The wagon rolled across another poorly placed stone, the wagon tossing Ashlette and the others to one side as its wheels dropped off the hazard. She despised these larger roads. The others insisted that they save time and resources by keeping to the main roads while going between large cities. Ashlette would have much rather taken longer and camped along favored campsite routes that were found on trails and paths which her mentor had taught her to follow. Even though she hated the main roads, even she couldn’t put up much resistance to oppose them. She looked down at her splinted ankle, still aching horribly and swelling against the cloth bindings. Grabbing hold of the side of the wagon, Ashlette situated herself again to where she had been seated prior to the jarring bump.
Fliss still sat as energetic as ever at the back of the wagon, singing a cheery tune. The small gnome was rarely agitated by travel, no matter the situation or setting.
Zolif sat in reserved silence as he held the reins in one hand, his other hand combing through his thick beard. The dwarf rarely spoke, and Ashlette didn’t know enough of him to assume what he could possibly be thinking of on these long journeys.
The final member of the group was Turmer. He was also human, as Ashlette was, but several years younger, only just now considered an adult. Ashlette had only agreed to allow him to remain with them after he had proven himself rather proficient in magical ability. Herself, Zolik, and Fliss had seen the boy fleeing from a few average goblins when they were caught in a particularly complex trap set by several other goblins still hidden in ambush. The whole situation could have proven dangerous had Termer not freed the group almost at once using magic. The four of them had then sent the goblins fleeing in no time before the pests could organize.
Termer sat with his knees drawn to his chest beside Zolik, his spellbook open to a recently added page which he studied. He bobbled as they hit another rock, and Ashlette gripped the side as pain shot up her leg as her ankle shifted. She once again was reminded by the pain that it was her fault that they were going to New Rimston. Had she been more aware she could have avoided the loose stones which had led to her tumble down the cliff face. Not only had her injury prevented them from completing their past bounty, but they had also run out of supplies for more potions to remedy her problem. Now they were playing the part of a common caravan, delivering goods like simple tradesfolk.
Ashlette let out a sigh that turned to a whimper as her foot tilted sideways. She reached down and shifted her heel over to a stable spot allowing her bare toes to lay against the side of the wagon. She grabbed her pack and lay it beside her foot to keep it from turning again. Her quiver fell over, now unsupported by her pack, scattering her handmade arrows beside her.
“Honestly…” she said to herself.
She picked up the quiver, pinning it between her thighs, and began collecting her arrows. The nicely fletched feathers were now pinched and ruffled in places, but not enough to affect functionality. She always preferred to have nicer arrows when in a larger city, she kept no special adornments, but this was something that made her feel somewhat presentable. Once all of the arrowheads were contained back in the bottom of the quiver she set to fussing about the fragile fletching. It was not what she had planned to be doing on the first day of the Tellas Reign, but it was at least something.
“Rock,” Zolik grumbled.
Ashlette gripped the quiver and wagon rail in time to prevent the bump from disturbing her much.
“Thanks for that,” she said. Zolik only gave a short “hmmph.” She began to reach back to fiddle with the feathers when she noticed Fliss was no longer in the back of the wagon. She shifted to make sure the smaller female wasn’t finally sitting still and out of sight but found the wagon absent of the gnome’s fidgety presence.
“Uhm, hey Zolik, I think…” Ashlette started but was interrupted by the clatter of scampering boots hitting the back of the wagon. Fliss then appeared in a leap that propelled her forward off of the back of the wagon where she landed on top of one of the large crates they were transporting. Fresh mud trailed behind her, though her small boots only managed to scatter so much. Ashlette quickly threw up a protective hand to her white feather fletching, needing them no further marred.
“Welcome back,” Ashlette said in a slightly amused tone. Fliss plopped down atop the crate enjoying her higher viewpoint. She gave a humorous little bow toward her friend below. Ashlette wondered how the nimble gnome had managed to fall out in the first place and opened her mouth to voice the question only to be hushed by Fliss who now stood staring out at the trees to the eastern roadside. Her slim pointed ears twitched, and she tilted her head. Ashlette pushed herself up with her arms to gain a few inches of height. She at once spotted a silhouette of a humanoid slip back behind a tree.
“Ambush.” She hissed loud enough for the four of them to hear.
She could hear Zolik’s crossbow string click into place where he kept it leaning against his seat.
“Yup,” he mumbled.
Then a figure stepped out onto the road ahead of them.