"But what if they arent the heroes you say they are?" King Beumont was furious at this point, he had been arguing with his thick headed advisor, Ciprian, for what seemed like hours. The King's tolorance and understanding seemed to be much more fleeting in his old age, its appeared that wisdom was not all that came with his grey hair. "How do we even contact the warriors, have you atleast thought that far ahead?"
"Your Magesty, you dont give me enough credit, I have a team of adventurers here in the city already, and I have paid them from my own pocket for the task." Ciprian, much younger and far more level headed than Beumont, was the only advisor that King Beumont had ever appointed in his fifty years of holding the crown, he trusted the man, especially in times like this. Ciprian knew the man before him had little faith in the the heroes of his kingdom, but Ciprian had traveled the land, spoken to the people, heard first hand accounts of them slaying great beasts, protecting the helpless, and destroying entire armies singlehandedly, they were infact real, they had to be, because he had no other options. "Sire, Give me three days, and I will have these Eight before you in this very room, you will not be disappointed."
"I should hope not, but you only have these three days, that is all the time i can afford to give, I suspect these beasts will be marching on my doorstep soon." He was unsure about his sudden change of heart, but the young man seemed sure of himself. The King watched quietly as his advisor respectfully bowed and bolted out of the room, off to the streets to find his team.

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It had been a few days since Grom had left Herthguard, and he should have reached Grumin a long time ago, but he enjoyed travelling and took his time when on the road. He hadn't seen too many people on the road today, which was strange because this was a common trade route between the cities, but the answer soon became clear as barricades appeared in his way. Down the road Grom spotted a few wagons, horses, and men standing in the middle of the road. Highwaymen. He laughed at the thought and continued on his way. "What the hell is that?" "It doesnt look like he has much coin." "Stop him anyway." Grom could hear all of these things as he inched closer to the thieves. "Woah there good traveller, may we have a word with you?" The Orc snorted in response and never broke his stride. The mans persistance irritated him, he walked backwards a few paces infront of Grom as the others surrounded him. "We request a Toll for passage into the swamps, your pack should be enough, throw it here and we'll let you go." To the dismay of the thieves, Grom kept walking, one of the men behind him drew a dagger, and without thinking, sunk it into his flank. Thick black blood oozed out of the wound, Grom let out an ear shattering roar and back-handed the man to his rear, His breathing grew heavy, and froth built around the giants mouth. Pulling the axe from his back he turned and struck the man who lay on the ground, his head violently exploding from the force of the Orcs weapon. One of the men let out a cry of terror and attempted to flee, but was cut short when the large axe buried itself in his waist, killed almost instantly save for some post-mordem figiting. As the axe was retrived, Grom turned to find the final man was gone, and a sharp pain growing in his side. Looking to his side he found the dagger and retracted it, it wasnt long and as far as he knew, nothing vital was struck. Pulling the shirt off of the headless man, he cut himself a bandage and wrapped the wound the best he could, and continued down his path.

A small bump in the road would not ruin his good day.

Tala sat in a bar in Herthguard, her gourd of wind at her feet, and a mug of ale at her hands. She drank it slowly, savoring the taste of the brew. She heard whispers behind her, people talking about why she would need such a cloak in a underground city. She let them talk, it was futile to teach them manners in such a place. The door opened, and some off duty guards came in, Tala looked to the door when it opened, but otherwise ignored the authority. No need to cause trouble, she liked it here in Herthguard, and was in no hurry to leave. She wondered if that huge Orc she had seen when coming to town was still here, but doubted it. Orc's in her experience, tended to like to travel, not staying in one place for long periods of time. Of course this could just be talk, like some of the legends and stories that surrounded her person. Some of what was said was true; she had defeated a whole army on her own, with the use of her hands alone. As for fighting the beasts that some said now roamed the land...well, that may not be as true. She had slain many a beast in her life, but none fit what she imagined when she heard people speak about these new beasts. She sipped more of her ale, glancing back as she heard a fight break out. One of the drunks had been foolish enough to confront one of the guards. She looked back to her drink, placing the fight to the back round. If it got to out of hand, she may join in...then again, she may not.

The swamps of Grumin that seemed to stretch out far across the continent, everything seemed to be quiet. Everything, except for one specific area, although the swamps of Grumin seem to be inhabited by small groups many areas are silent, perfect areas to set up a bandit camp. And it was this specific type of area that was rowdy, though many wild creatures feared the area for there were a small group of fearsome bandits, skilled with a blade and not afraid to kill anything that would obstruct them. Only the group of thugs did not know they were being followed, followed by one of the most feared hunters in Grumin. Maybe even feared in the whole world, it seemed the hunter's job was to bring back this small group of raiders back to the city, dead or alive. "Hurry up you slow pokes! We will arrive at the hideout soon enough!" One of the raiders yelled out, obviously the leader. His face, that was deformed from various scars and his straightened stance revealed the obvious. He would be the most dangerous of them all, the most experienced. A silent laugh escaped the hunter's mouth, slowly dropping down branch by branch until the hunter was close enough to observe them more closely.

The breaking of a small tree branch that lay underneath the leader's foot was the signal for the hunter to get started by clearing out the weaker bandits. As teh group started walking once more, the hunter took the time in the world taking the group out one by one. A slight mistake made one of the bandits yell out before he died. "What was that sound!" The leader turned himself around, unsheathing his sword. His eyes were burning from rage, the group that existed out of seven members got decreased to three. "Which beast is responsible for this... This insult?!" The two other bandits had unsheathed their weapons as well. "I know you are there! Reveal yourself coward!" The leader motioned for the remaining two to search the area. Ahh... Humans are such simpletons... They nearly make me regret the fact that I have to kill them. The hunter made sure the two remaining bandits would follow and fall into a trap the hunter made. "Found the culprit! No mercy!" The two bandits yelled as they chased the hunter down deep in the swamps. The hunter smirked and jumped over a small heap of leaves, the two bandits, dumb enough to not realise the obvious trap triggered the contraption and the two got send down into a deep dark pit, not just a normal pit. No, these two had claimed a long and painful death. The pit was filled with venomous creatures, surely the two unlucky thugs are silently begging for mercy.

The hunter sighed, retracing the way back to the bandit leader who foolishly waited for the culprit to return. It seemed he had anticipated that his followers would be slain. The gigantic man pointed his sword at the mysterious person who had just disabled his followers without getting noticed. "Are you the one who murdered my followers?! Choose your words carefully coward, they might be your last!" The hunter smirked once more, looking at the enraged human. "You're actually kind of cute. I'll regret having to put a handsome man like you out of your misery." The raider scoffed, raising his blade as he did so and charged the mysterious person. "You shall pay for my followers lives with yours!" The hunter easily dodged the enraged attack and immediately countered the attack with a kick in the man's side. "Now, now... There is no need to waste your life for those lowlifes... I'd say... Return everything you stole and you might life another day." But the raider refused to listen and once more charged in head on. The hunter reached for her weapons, ducking down so the swing would fly over her head and with a quick strike she disabled one of the man's arms and a pool of blood quickly formed underneath the man.

In one last raging strike, it was over. The clash resulted into the man getting impaled by two daggers that were now stuck in his chest. And with a large cough of blood he dropped to the ground and a large puddle of blood crawled out underneath his body. The hunter smirked, removing her hood from her head, revealing an elven woman with blackened eyes that stared at the dying man. The woman sighed, removing some of her hair that had fallen over her eyes. The raiders eyes widened, shocked that he got defeated by a woman, an elf no less! "W-Who are Y-You...?!" The woman now smiled, walking up to the man and kneeling before him, levelling her head towards his. "You might have heard my name before, Tyelka Milme..." With that the woman retracted her weapons from the man's body, quickening the man's death. The raider's eyes had widened slightly and just before his last breath he only could blurt out that could be heard as a feint cry of defeat. The elven woman sighed once more staring at the now dead raider's body. "At least you got me once..." Her hand covered a wound the raider made on her left arm, although not critical, it needed bandaging and with a quick 'rip' the elven woman removed a small part from her cloak and started wrapping it around the wound.

She pulled her hood up once more and started looting the dead body from anything that had value. Some money, a necklace that held a small fairy amulet and as a last; A feint shining rock. "They didn't mention about the raiders stealing a pebble. Ahh well, that means one more shiny object for me." The elven woman laughed and started placing the objects where they belonged. The money and the amulet would go into a separate pouch she had stitched on her bag. Allowing her to remember that those objects needed to be returned. The shiny pebble would be placed in one of the pouches on the woman's belt, as she did so, she sheathed her weapons and turned around to make her way back to Grumin.

Altras stood in the canyon staring at a large dragon nest, it held 30 - 40 dragons in it alone, but the dragons where not what took Altras' attention it was that above the dragon nest stood a mage. The other mage looked down at Altras, "You are here to destroy these dragons, are you not? You come to the rescue of those pitiful villagers who are helpless against my magic and they are mere farmers, so they can't try and battle the dragons. My plan to lure you here one of the near godly eight. I never really believed you existed but here you are in front of me, and now I can take your head." The mage pointed his staff at Altras and shot a lightning bolt out of it, quickly Altras put his arm in the air and a staff materialized, spinning in over his head for a moment before slamming the bottom of the staff into the ground causing a large wall to form, guarding Altras from the attack. The other mage looked furiously at Altras, "Big deal so you are strong but not invincible." The mage slammed the bottom of his staff into the ground, and a ringing sound was released and the canyon began to shake the mage had stirried the dragon's up and now it would be up Altras to stop them, "This is my true skill, the power to tame creature and make them do my will and all the dragon's are under my control right now. Try and stop them all."

"As you wish." Altras said to softly as he looked at the small army of dragons rushing toward him. He began to spin his staff quietly saying spells, his eyes closed as he spun his staff and stabbed it in to the ground, the ground began to shake and the mountain the mage was standing on began to crack and shake. In a mere moment Altras was standing behind the mage, "You have cause these people a great discomfort, and as a protector of the people I shall show you my true power," with a swing of his staff all the dragon's crashed into each other and the canyon wall falling into the deep canyon. Altras placed his hand on the other mage and in a mere moment a blast of energy was sent through his hand in to the mages chest sending him flying into the depths of the canyon with the dragons. "That village is now safe." Altras walked into the sunset as a large explosion came from the depths of the canyon, causing a slight avalanche that fell into the canyon, but would not effect the villages nearby.

Roland Berchingen was trudging through the stone road of the Royal City. He was just a passerby... Although his height and his huge sword strapped on his back did attract some attention. However, he ignored everyone who looked at him. Children looked at him and hid behind their mothers with fear as his features were rough and dark. The city folk avoided getting in the way as they didn't want to fall victim to that huge sword. However, several arrogant male teenagers with swords strapped at their hips swaggered towards him. It looks like they were from some noble family. Roland ignored them until one of them bumped into him with an intention to challenge him to a duel.

"Sorry," he muttered and walked off.

"Sorry?! Rude fellow! Get back here!" barked one of the boys while the others jeered at him.

Roland turned around at him and asked, "What? You got a problem with me?"

"You think everything can be solved with a simple... "sorry"?" jeered the boy, "I want compensation!"

"Your problem kid. See ya," was Roland's answer and he moved away.

Schiink...

The boy drew his sword and pointed at him, "Rude commoner! I challenge you to a duel!"

Roland scoffed as he stopped in his tracks, "A boy like you isn't worth anything in this world."

"Damn you! I'll make you eat your own words!" cried the boy as he charged at Roland.

Gachak!

The boy gaped at his sword being smashed into pieces by a punch from Roland's prosthetic arm. He fell on his ass and tried to move away.

"Next?" Roland asked with a smug tone.

"Damn you!!!" cried the other boys as they charged at him with their swords.

Gachak! Whump! Whump! Whump! Woosh! Whump!

They felt the prosthetic smash into their midriffs and skulls and catch their swords. Some of them passed out while others vomited on the stone road.

"Hmph... Not worth a damned thing," Roland muttered as he walked off to the exit of the city, leaving the noble children behind him.

Setel looked at the royal orders laid before him with some annoyance. It had been nearly a day since he had left the Royal City with all haste and taken to the sea in his prized vessel, Red Queen. And even nearly a full day later, the insanity of his orders still caught him every time. He rolled the letter back up and stood, moving to the tiller at the back of the vessel to adjust his course and muttering to himself all the while.

"Three days.. you want me to go aaaaall the way to Herthguard in three days and find a legendary hero. A hero, I might add, for whom the only description I have is that they carry around a large gourd. So I have to find a person carrying around an object used for drinking in a dwarven city. Thank you, royal intelligence." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his face cracking out into a grin. Venting to no one in particular was very therapeutic, he decided as he once again adjusted course.

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And finally on the evening of the second day he arrived at Herthguard. He didn't mind dwarven cities overmuch.. sure the atmosphere was oppressive, but they always had good drink and enough of that drowned out the oppressive atmosphere. So naturally, his first stop would have to be one of the bars in order to make his trip a little more tolerable. After all, hard to do a good job under heavy stress! With that decided he navigated the twisting corridors and hallways of the expansive underground city until he reached his destination. A small group of off-duty guards preceded him by a few paces.

He took in a deep breath. The smell of alcohol was one he greatly enjoyed! He then let his eyes scan over the inhabitants of the bar.. making his typical list. Who was most likely to start a fight, who was most likely to throw up all over the person next to him.. and then his eyes fell over a cloaked figure sitting at the bar. Well that was peculiar. But as his eyes scanned downward, something caught his eye. A gourd sitting at the person's feet. He shook his head incredulously. "There's no way it could be that easy.."

His train of thought was broken as a fight broke out in front of him. And wouldn't you know it, it was started by one of the people he had filed under 'most likely to start a fight.' He shook his head with a laugh.. something about this sort of atmosphere reminded him of his former career as a pirate. He made his way over to the bar, ducking under a stray hook from a drunk with little sense of balance. He turned around with a grin, walking backwards as he gave the brawlers a salute. "Carry on, gentlemen!" He bumped into the bar and fell back into the stool directly beside Tala's. Though he did try to play it off as intentional, leaning back against the bar and tossing the lady a grin. "You look a bit out of place among this lot."

Raenef woke with a start. People were being stupid somewhere....oh, wait, they do that all the time. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He got up from the gutter where he had been sleeping peacefully and started rolling up his sleeping bag. He started to slowly remember where he was and why he was there. Of course he was in Grumin because every other large city had kicked him out just for being a bum. His hate for other thinking things exploded and he grumbled as he rolled his bag up and put it in his backpack.

He lay down in his gutter and sighed again, much louder, drawing some looks from passersby. He took out his water skin and sack of meat and started enjoying his breakfast. As he ate some, he started playing his game. Poking into the passerby's mind and commenting. An Orc came out of a bar near him and he smirked. This jerk has five kids and a wife. They have next to nothing and here's the husband buying ale and whores. "She knows!!" he shouted at him. Seeing the Orc flinch and give off fear he was pleased. Wow....how corrupted he had become. It was bad he enjoyed that, but the wife should know....

He tortured a few more lowlifes as he finished his ration of breakfast and then he picked up something. People were being stupid. There was always the vibe he got and he was always right. He felt people dying near by and could feel the killer coming his way. As she came closer and closer he pulled out his spear and concealed it. The Elven woman Walked by him and he jabbed her with the spear point in the side. "Stop Theif"

Without the weight of the pair of hands that had held it, the tiny sheet of creased paper slowly rolled back on itself. Jaye sat unmoving at his workbench, staring unfocused through the small open window of his cabin. The messenger falcon, its burden now released, hopped down from the window and began its customary preening, blessedly unaware of what it has just delivered. All dead. The thought flashed through Jaye’s mind. The 300 elite marksmen and markswomen that the Silverbolt Company had sent to accompany the King’s army to combat the rising threat had all perished. When the battle was lost and the army routing, they had stood their ground to cover the retreating soldiers. Jaye felt a moment of fierce pride, but it was swift drowned by his grief. So many good folks, all gone. Men and women he had fought with, boys and girls he had raised, all gone. When the call came for the King’s Army to march against the strange creatures threatening the land, every able-bodied Silverbolt Archer had marched with them. Now all that remained of the Silverbolt Company are the elderly and the not-yet grown.

Jaye picked up the scroll once more. The tiny handwritten message on it was penned by a familiar hand. The same one that had written all of the monthly reports that the falcon carried to him. Although Jaye was no longer the Commander of the Silverbolts, he still kept contact with the Company through written letters. During the final moments of the battle, the Commander of the Silverbolts had asked one of the retreating soldiers to deliver the message he is reading now to the Company Headquarters. Another spasm of pain shook through Jaye as he recalled Mythral, his long-time friend who had taken over as Commander when he became tired of all the public attention.

No, Jaye forced the image of the ever-cheerful Mythral to a corner of his mind, there will be time enough later for grieving. Now is the time for action, if these creatures are able to defeat not only the best of the Silverbolts but also the King’s Army, they cannot be allowed to roam free, and a small voice in Jaye’s head added, nor can I sit still when Their death has not yet been avenged.



The next morning saw Jaye not in his wooden cabin by Silverglade but on the road to the Royal City heading towards the Headquarters of the Silverbolt Company which was located only a few miles outside the Royal City. He was lightly ladened, carrying only his weapons and only enough provision for the two days needed to reach the Headquarters. His mount is a small dun mare, breed for speed and endurance, and they moved along the broad highway at a ground-eating canter.

It was a shame those idiots were so quick to give up thier lives, maybe they would have changed thier minds if they had known that Grom's pack only had a blanket inside, and a few stones with which he sharpened his axe. This was all of little concern to him though, as he walked away with a prick that, to him, was unfit to slay a diseased rat. The wound still gave him a little trouble, but he had taken far worse in the past, and it had already stopped bleeding, so the Orc put it in the back of his mind. He had only been walking for a few hours and already he was in the swamp, which ment another hour before he reached Grumin's gates. The air around Grom was thick with humidity, and the ground muddy, he was certainly close to his destination, though he wasn't sure why he came here in the first place. As he hopelessly searched his mind for the answer, a young woman skidded through the mud and towards town, the sight stopped the Orc where he stood. Certainly strange, and above all else, he caught a whiff of the thick metallic stench of blood as she darted out of sight, all of this, effectivly destroying his train of thought.

Grumin's gates lie open before him as he reached the city, but no sign of the mysterious woman. His only destination was the tavern, deciding the best way to spend the coins he plucked from the thieves would be a few good drinks. The swamp city tended to attract the worst Grodden had to offer, and it had gotten much worse since his last visit. Grom estimated he had passed atleast six homeless families just from the gates to the tavern, including a man resting in a ditch beside the bar itself. Turning his attention from the man to the building in front of him, he saw all sorts of swill entering and leaving the... Rusty Boot? Not the name he would have gone with, but they looked like his sort of people, or atleast the kind that didn't ask alot of questions.

Inside, the tavern was dark, lit by only a few candles on either side of the room and no windows as far as he could tell. Maybe the woman was here, he scanned the room quickly but the lack of proper lighting hid the faces of the patrons well, so Grom quickly let the idea go. Finding an empty seat at the bar, between two rather shady characters no less, he dropped a coin on the bar.
"Ale" Grom grunted at the bartender, his voice sounded as if two stones were violently rubbing together. As his drink was sat in front of him, he lifted it to his lips and graciously drank, which he didnt put down until i was completely drained. The bartender returned to find the mug empty and another coin placed next to it, but Grom sat hazily with his chin in his palm.

Tala looked to the man who had sat by her. She instantly marked him as a sailor of some sort, but couldn't quite decide if he was a pirate or authority. She took a sip of her ale "Mayhaps I am." her accent was that of her homeland, which always made people peg her for a foreigner. She was used to this, so it didn't bother her. What did bother her was what happened next, one of the guards that had gotten into the fight staggered into her, almost causing her to spill her ale. The man went back into the fray, and Tala turned in her stool, now facing the fight. "Ye shall always apologize to a lady when you've stumbled into one." she said loud enough for the guard to hear. A hush went over the tavern, the guard looked to her and sneered. He walked up to Tala "Well if I see a lady, I shall apologize to her." with that said he grabbed the edge of her hood, and flipped it back. This revealed her white hair, and caused more than a few whispers to go throughout the bar. The guard was caught by surprise, Tala stood swiftly, and held out her now fisted right hand towards him.
The guard looked at this and laughed "What're ya going to do 'la-" his words were cut off as Tala flicked her index finger. The guard stumbled back a few steps, landing on his butt, and gasping for breath. There was a dent in his armor where she had flicked. A second guard came charging at her, sword drawn. "You would attack a unarmed person?" she said at the same time as banding her right elbow, and changing her fist into a flat palm. When the guard got close enough, she thrust her arm forward. The second guard went flying, knocking over two tables, and landing on his back. There was a crack in his armor now, Tala cursed herself in her mind, she had not meant to use that much force. The man was still alive, which had been her original goal, so at least that was good.The other guards didn't even try to attack her, instead they went to their downed fellows. They had no authority when off duty, so they couldn't arrest her then and there.
She turned to the bar and grabbed her gourd, tying it so that it rested on her back. She then reached into one of her hidden pockets and placed a good amount of gold coin on the bar. She looked to the barkeep. "For the damage I've done." She looked to the man who had sat beside her, giving him a small nod. She then exited the bar, feeling every eye on her. Perhaps it was time to leave Hearthguard, word would spread fast about what had happened. The last thing Tala wanted to deal with was prison, not that she couldn't break out easily. She stopped a little ways outside of the bar, thinking about where she should go to next.

The road to Grumin was muddy, though just at a level you were able to walk over it with ease. Then again, Tyelka was walking her way through bushes and trees as well. Deciding the quiet road would take to long, she decided to get herself and the main road, risking being spotted but it was the best choice if she wanted to arrive early, as that little 'entertainment' took quite some time. With a smirk the elven woman talked to herself, noting how gullible some people were. "Ah, at least they had some things of worth, and their weapons were in quite a good state, maybe I can sell them. When looting the rest of the bandits bodies, the elven woman ran across some quite new pair of daggers and of course the sword the leader was carrying was in perfect state. If only she could find a buyer, a blacksmith perhaps? Or a passing merchant might be interested as well. She would decide on that later, for now there was walking to be done.

The sounds of footsteps passed Tyelka's ears, for a swamp, the roads were fairly crowded. As the roads started to shrink in travellers, the elven woman took her time to enjoy the various sounds of nature. Birds flying though the sky, leaves making a sift cracking sound as they got moved by the soaring wind. It was peaceful, it nearly gave the elven woman the urge to lay down underneath one of the many trees and taking a small nap. Though she figured it would be better to rest inside the town, in the wilds there could be other bandits from the group she had slain. As the town gates seemed to grow closer Tyelka was stopped. A stranger, dressed in priest robes had dared jabbing his weapon into her side. Luckily, just scratching the elven woman's side. 'Stop thief!' The stranger yelled out, and that yell was responded to with a raised eyebrow, though that expression was concealed by her hood. Tyelka moved a few inches back, watching the weapon that just inju- Scratched her. A spear, a coward's weapon is what she called it. The long range is what makes it a dangerous weapon, though it seemed this person had yet to know what makes a weapon truly powerful.

"I wonder. It seems I accidently bumped into your spear while passing by. I apologize." With a small bow towards the man, the elven woman smiled pulling the spear out of her reach a slight bit more before continuing her road. She didn't have the time to be answering that motion in the right way. The stranger probably wasn't worth her time in the slightest anyway. For safety reasons, Tyelka had one of her hands on the hilt of her dagger, ready to counter any incoming attack would she need to do so and carried on walking towards the gate that separated her from Grumin.

There was a clank as the horse drawn trailer hit a bump. A man dressed in leather boots, leather greaves, and a brown doublet walked next to the trailer, equipped with only a metal buckler. He looked back at the insignia on the black tower shield that lay within the trailer next to a steel battle hammer. The silver insignia shone in the sunlight. Four years. Only four years ago had he been the biggest joke in Grodden, a fact that had never bothered him before, but now it made him smile. He was on his way to Herthguard to help a noble with a goblin infestation. A noble who had denied him not only knighthood but even respect. People were funny that way. Orith looked back, the Royal city was still in view but only barely. He'd only been traveling for abut a day now and he wasn't in any major hurry.

He noticed footsteps on the road. A small patrol, six men, probably not a threat. Orith continued only slightly more alert. It was about an hour later when he noticed the footsteps disappeared. That was incorrect, there was a scuffle site, obviously the patrol had been ambushed and then there were no footsteps beyond that point. Either the patrol had chased the bandits off into the surrounding forest or they had lost. Orith took a step back and reached into the trailer for his shield. Just as his hand connected with the metal a voice came from behind him. "What'cha got there?" Orith slowly turned, keeping his hand on the shield. Suddenly he let out a sigh of relief as he saw three worn and battered soldiers.

"Just protection. You look like hell."

One of the soldiers laughed. "I feel like hell. You wouldn't mind helping us out would you? We have three heavily wounded men and your cart there would save us the trouble of trying to carry them." Orith smiled and nodded, glad to help. "You go collect your men and I will rearrange my cart to fit them."