Brocton awaits.

***Garv***

Garv and Magar sat at the table, facing off awkwardly at a young pair of twin girls. Probably around five or six years old.

They were Skye's adorable children, Layla and Bria. They strongly resembled their mother and looked timidly at the men from across the table.

Cassandra had woken up a bit and was sitting next to Garv, eagerly awaiting the food. The smell of stew being brewed was tantalising and wafted throughout the house.

Garv felt himself beginning to drool.

How long had it been since his last proper meal?

Looking at Cassandra next to him. He could see the same thing was going through her mind. They both sat in a stupefied trance, hypnotised by the aroma.

Magar was a bit more reserved, unlike his two drooling counterparts he maintained a degree of decorum. Sat patiently at the end of the table, trying not to frighten the children in the room.

A few short taps on a cooking pot told them that dinner was on the way.

"Layla, Bria! Come and help me set the table." Skye said in the sing-song voice of a practiced mother.

The two kids obediently got to their feet and rushed into the kitchen.

A few moments later the three of them emerged, Bria and Layla had the bowls and spoons. The large pot of stew was carried by Skye. They marched over and set about placing all of the bits of cutlery out.

Bria popped back to the kitchen to grab a few loaves of bread while Layla passed bowls out to everyone.

"You've certainly got this routine down." Magar remarked at the trio's efficiency.

"Yes well," Skye started, "it's normally just us three."

"Normally?"

"Ah, my husband." She started, a frown creeping onto her face, "he normally spends most of his time in town. We rarely see him these days."

"I see." Magar said, trying not to pry.

"Honestly, it's better that way." She forced a smile, "we don't need him, and he doesn't need us."

Magar had clearly stepped on a sensitive topic and quickly fell silent.

Skye carried on as if nothing had happened. She pulled out a ladle and started to spoon piping hot stew into the bowls one by one.

Garv's and Cassandra's eyes dilated at the sight of the food being served. Even a simple vegetable stew looked like a king's feast to them.

They were practically sitting on their hands to stop themselves tearing into the meal like animals.

"Well don't just look at it! Tuck in!" Skye said with a chuckle, sending the table into a frenzy.

Garv had never had a stew this delicious, not eating all day probably had something to do with it. But Garv could almost feel tears of joy at the taste of the dish.

It took a while but eventually the initial frenzy was over and people started remembering their manners again.

"So, what brings you three this way? Have you news from Fenniton? There have been some terrible rumours lately." Skye said out of curiosity.

Garv and Magar exchanged a look, they had better keep their wits about them. Nobody would dine so freely with snatchers, even if they had recently renounced their oaths.

"Well, I expect most of them are true, unfortunately." Magar said with a low voice, "The Crusaders attacked the place and rounded up the locals."

"We, ah, only just barely managed to get away. We found young Cassandra in the ruins of Bandlehurst." Garv said tentatively, rubbing Cassandra on the shoulder. "We hope to reunite her with her parents, we swore we would help her."

Cassandra sadly mulled over her food, pretending not to hear their conversation.

Garv locked eyes with Skye and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, communicating without speaking. It seems she understood. Finding the girl's parents was impossible, they all knew it.

"How awful," Skye said, almost to herself, "well I don't know if I can help you on your journey, but I definitely have some clothes that will fit you!"

Skye looked at the girl with her warm motherly eyes, "What say, after dinner we get you a nice bath and try on some of the spare clothes we have, I'm sure we have something you'll like."

Cassandra smiled and wiped her face, trying to keep her emotions in check, "That's very kind of you Miss Skye."

"Oh don't be so formal! Come on we're practically sisters, you can call me big sis!" Skye said with a chuckle.

Cassandra laughed along with her, "Don't be silly you're far too old to be my sister! I'll call you Auntie Skye!"

Critical hit!

Garv nearly choked on his stew, he tried to avoid eye contact. It felt like all of the heat had left the room!

"O-oh," Skye said through gritted teeth and a forced smile, "how silly of me, yes, Auntie it is then."

Garv swore he could hear the spoon in her hand splintering.

They ate in silence for a while. Before eventually, Skye hurried the kids off to the bath telling Bria and Layla to show Cassandra where it was.

She returned to the table and sat with Garv and Magar.

"So," Skye said after a while, collecting in the bowls, "What about you two then? You don't seem like you're from around here. How did you end up here?"

"We are just travellers," Magar said evenly.

"Oh?" Skye raised an eyebrow, "Just travellers eh?"

"Yes, just travellers." Garv nodded along dutifully.

"Well, I suppose that's fair enough, if you don't want to tell me I can't make you." Skye said plainly. Placing the empty bowls into the stew pot to carry to the kitchen.

Garv wrinkled his nose, "We can help you wash up if you like?"

Skye smiled, collecting the last of the plates, "No it's ok, you guys just head out to the stable and find a spot to sleep. I'll come get you in the morning."

"Right, you are Miss Skye. C'mon Garv." Magar patted Garv on the shoulder as he stood up and headed to the door.

Garv went to follow him but stopped short of leaving, "Thank you for the food Miss Skye, it really was very good."

"That's very kind of you to say," She smiled as she walked them to the door, "goodnight."

She closed the door behind them as the exited out into the night. There was a slight chill in the air, but it wasn't too bad. They had slept through worse.

They headed over to the barn and picked a decent enough spot. There were even spare blankets in the stable. No doubt they were used for the horses, but a blanket is a blanket.

They settled down on a pile of hay and lay in the darkness for a while. Magar wasted no time throwing a blanket over himself and rolling over.

"Hey Magar."

"Hmm."

"We're doing the right thing, right? Helping that girl."

"Mhmm."

"Yeah I thought so too."

"Hmm hmm."

"Yeah, goodnight."

***Boots***

The meeting had finally ended. Boots heaved a tired sigh of relief as the last of the delegates of the newly formed town council left the meeting room.

Many things had been decided, overall, it had been a productive evening. But Boots was glad it was over. There's only so much talking one man can do.

Gerald's outburst earlier had really caught him off guard. He had hoped to keep Fenix's involvement under wraps. He didn't want anybody to think he was mad, or a liar.

They had agreed not to announce it to the townsfolk. But Boots knew that this sort of thing would eek out in rumours anyway.

In all honesty, that was probably the best way the news could get around. Just announcing that you speak to Gods is not a good way to inspire confidence in your people.

Boots leaned back on his chair for a moment, pondering the ceiling.

"Brocton." He muttered.

If he could take it, he might just be able to snatch victory away from the jaws of defeat once again!

But even he knew; his luck would not last forever.

Time was all he needed, yet it was the one thing he lacked.

The thought really frustrated him.

But it was a challenge he would have to rise to.

Boots got up from the chair and headed out of the room. It was time to find a place to sleep for the night. He remembered Gerald mentioning that there was some accommodation around here somewhere.

He went off in search of a bed.

***World***

The night passed quietly over the valley that nestled itself into a pocket in the Gemlock mountains. Sunlight slowly creeped over the horizon to birth a new day. There was morning mist and dew in the air. The birds were singing, and a fresh spring breeze was whistling through the mountains.

The township of Brocton soon bustled to life, with stall merchants placing out their fresh produce, and baker's ovens lighting to bake the first batches of bread.

In Fenniton, tired guards manned the walls, waiting for their replacements to relieve them. There were few people in the streets, save the newly appointed messengers setting out to speak to the people on the outskirts.

***Boots***

Boots walked out of the town hall; it was early morning. He'd had a chance to eat and wash. Overall, he felt pretty good as he took a long deep breath of morning air.

He'd thrown a dark green cloak over his normal garb. It had a nice big hood that he could use to obscure his identity should the need arise.

He was greeted out the front by Roman, who had secured several horses for his venture to Brocton.

"Good morning Roman." Boots waved his greeting merrily.

Roman finished adjusting the last of the saddle straps on the horse he was tending to before returning his greeting, "Moring m'lord."

"Who will be joining me? Did you managed to round some volunteers up?"

"Ah, yes," Roman nodded, "you will be joined by Oswald, Maria and Simeon."

"Fine choices." Boots said approvingly.

"Fiona would have wanted to come too, but she's out with the messengers. She wanted to swing by Mum and Dad's to let them know what's going on."

"She is quite responsible."

Roman laughed, "Yes, I suppose she is, when it suits her."

Simeon arrived and gave a crisp wave before heading to his steed, Boots acknowledged him with a nod and decided to introduce himself to his own horse.

"Does he have a name?" he asked Roman.

"Um, I don't think so, not that I've been told, I expect you can name him if you like." Roman said with a nod, giving one of the other horses a pat as he did so.

"I see."

Boots walked up to his noble steed and regarded its face. It was a chestnut reddish-brown colour with a white stripe down it's nose. It had a small scar that almost looked like a lightning bolt under its left eye.

Boots held his horses face in his hands and looked deep into its intelligent eyes.

"Such a noble companion, I am honoured to meet you, from this day forward, we are friends."

The horse's eyes glistened with understanding. Perhaps.

"I shall choose a name for you."

Roman and Simeon were half listening as they tended to the animals.

"A name most noble indeed!"

Passers by were slowing to see what the fuss was about.

"I shall name you…"

Roman and Simeon had now completely stopped what they were doing before and were paying close attention to the bizarre display.

"Oatmeal!"

Oatmeal let out a triumphant neigh!

Roman and Simeon couldn't contain their laughter, a few onlookers from the street also let out a few chuckles.

"Why are you two laughing!" Boots snapped at the men.

"We were just surprised," Roman said as he got a handle on himself, "Why did you call him Oatmeal?"

"Because it is my favourite thing to have for breakfast!" Boots said as if that much was obvious, "Now Oatmeal can be my favourite horse, too."

He smiled and rubbed his valiant stallion on the nose.

"Two favourites with one name."

Roman looked quizzically at him for a moment, "Out of curiosity, if you had a child, what would you name them?"

"Well, if I loved the child," Boots pondered, "I expect I'd name them after my horse."

Roman chuckled, "And if you didn't love the child?"

"I'd probably call them 'Boiled Carrots'." Boots said without a hint of irony, turning to his saddle and adjusting the straps.

Roman shook his head with a grin. Simeon was laughing into the side of his horse.

Oswald and Maria finally rounded the corner. Oswald was being led by the ear having apparently slept in.

"Sorry we're late," Maria said as she twisted Oswald's ear, "This one was flat out with a book on his face."

A very sorry Oswald yelped, Maria had a very good grip of that ear.

"You're just in time, lets saddle up and get underway." Boots said, checking his saddle.

After a few short minutes, the party was together at last. The four of them sat atop their horses as Boots gave a final farewell to Roman.

"The town is in your capable hands Roman; we shall be back in a day or two. I will send word if there are any immediate concerns."

"Safe travels." Roman said with a wave, "Try not to get in any fights."

Boots smiled and shook his head, turning on his horse.

The rest of his party followed on and just like that they were underway, trotting down the cobbled streets towards the northern gate.

Brocton awaits.