Desperation's Summit

1: Troll

It had been a long day's travel from town - if that's what anyone could call the tiny dollop of civilization they passed through - into the mountains. All funded by Cordelia Greaves. Well, her parents, at least. And Cordelia doubted they had a direct hand in picking her current entourage. At least, she hoped not. Otherwise, she'd be forced to admit some very undesirable truths.

The caravan was slated to assist her through Hinterel Pass, a notoriously dangerous and winding path that was soon to become impassable with the approaching winter. However, the members of the caravan were little more than mercenaries whittling time away between major jobs. All muscle and scars and crude conversation. Not that Cordelia wasn't used to the sort on her travels, but it would have been nice if her parents had chosen a team a bit more scrupulous.

At this rate, she just assumed her parents - or perhaps one of her older siblings - had just chosen the first name they came across.

As she rested in her personal wagon, lounging on the pitiful slab that constituted a bed, she sipped wine from a tin mug. This was one of the worst parts of traveling, Cordelia decided. Godsawful companionship and cramped, dirty traveling vehicles.

It would have helped if more refined guards had been hired. Cordelia wouldn't have found it necessary to haul all of her things in her same travel wagon. As it was, large and well-made trunks stood like sentries inside of the wagon. All of the boxes contained a collection of books, trinkets, and general memorability from her well-planned adventures, along with her finely tailored clothing and jewelry.

Alas, she didn't feel it was safe to allow her trunks far from her sight. Her nose wrinkled as she thought of the last time she made that mistake. Too many of her undergarments had gone missing and strange runes - meant to spy on her through a looking glass, she later learned - had been drawn on some key items.

Raucous sounds from outside infiltrated her meager serenity. Judging from the smell of rotten ale, the troupe blew the first half of their funds on booze.

Cordelia ignored the revelry and continued to read about her eventual destination by the light of her candle. There was no point in dwelling on her situation. This was a temporary moment between stimulating locations.

And the dryad city of Florifolia was certain to be a quasi-paradise, she thought as she found her spot on the page. Warm and sunny, with a near criminal abundance of lush flora. Along with the notorious greenery, beaches abound on its borders, which skirted Lathian Sea and seafolk territory. Cordelia kept a mental list of drinks and food and things try in Florifolia.

Cordelia mused it was a bit masochistic to read of such a blissful place while traversing the cold hells that were the mountains.

The thought solidified further as her wagon shifted and her door opened. A cold gust hissed around her room as the caravan leader - Jai - shouldered his way in, without a knock nor invitation. From her bed, Cordelia stared at him, her eyes narrowed. Beside her, the flickering candle sputtered in the uninvited breeze.

Jai was a slab of muscle, topped with long stringy blonde hair and a scruff of a beard. Judging from the smell wafting from him, he'd been soaking in booze with the rest of his cohorts. Seeing her watching him, his lips twisted into a snarl of a smile. Cordelia didn't much like it.

"Can I help you," Cordelia intoned, her tone deadpan and her expression none-the-livelier.

The gruesome smile broadened across Jai's face. Vaguely, Cordelia noted he was missing a tooth. "Just thought the princess was a bit lonely, out here all alone."

Her pursed lips tipped into a frown at the little nickname. There was no point in explaining she was not royalty, merely a count's daughter. To Jai's sort, anyone with money to burn was royal and worthy of scorn.