Maji Born

11 - Broker

The port city of Nerith sprawled out along the coast masked in a thick fog. The last two days of their journey had been miserable. The weather had shifted from the calm, lucky blue sky that had accompanied the trio on their journey, giving way to the murky fog and downpour of rain that now pounded against the track.

The trio spent a long day of plodding through muddy bogs and scrambling through heavily treed, thankfully dry, woodlands. Lavinia's feet had cut open several times and were caked with hardened earth and blood by the time they reached the road. She had complained only slightly, keeping most of the pain to herself.

At first, the others had been annoyed by her complaints. Eirian's feet had a healthy level of callous' to keep her protected and she still had her old leather boots which were worn, but leak-free. Devarak was used to cuts and bruises and had ditched the too-small boots for bare feet on the second day of their journey.

Upon seeing the shape of Lavinia's feet they took pity on her. Both were cut and blistered. Eirian had offered her boots to Lavinia, who had tried them on. They were too large which caused the angry blisters to become even more inflamed, even popping a few.

With the whimpering, amount of rain and being soaked to the bone it became appealing to risk the patrol for an even path. It was late enough that under hoods they would look average and as they had only witnessed patrols during daylight, Devarak felt it would be safe enough. So know they continued up the road feeling exposed but slightly less miserable.

The silhouette of the port town of Nerith was now becoming clearer, a soft shadow at the edge of their vision.

Devarak had entered from Midais from Nerith and so he had a vague recollection of how to reach the docks. He had known that there was a high likelihood of him being discovered before exiting Midais, but his original plan had involved a horse and a waiting boat to take him home. That boat had sailed. It would have left the day before sometime around noon. That had been the time he had been given by his informant. It had been a cargo vessel, trading in grain and wool, sturdy, suitable for smuggling a spy unbeknownst to officials.

Now, there was no telling what sort of ship they would get, or even if they would make it out of the port. There was a high likelihood, which Devarak did not speak aloud, that the port would be on high alert and be shut down, if that was the case they would be going nowhere.

Shaking off his negative thoughts, Devarak eyed the port city anxiously. There was only one exit to the realm. Sea. Midais was surrounded by it, an island and the only way to leave was by boat. Which was a strategic location and a highly inconvenient one for those looking to flee.

Eirian was humming to herself, short bursts of inconsequential noise. Devarak could not make out a tune, at least not one he knew. Eirian did this a lot. At first, this had annoyed Devarak, but after a short while, it had begun to feel calming. She only stopped when she was on edge and that made all their nerves quake. Eirian seemed to be extremely attuned to the Ardaer stone. Devarak hadn't let her near it, but he knew enough about its lore to know that Urdart felt the strongest pull from it.

They drew on its power involuntarily, strengthening their powers, energy, and mood. It was one of the small blessings of caring it with them. Unlike Lavinia who was miserable but bearing it with dignity, Eirian was rather content, Devarak suspected this was due to being out of the city and not dead...

Lavinia kept up a brave facade but spent most of their journey in silence with small gasps of pain escaping her every once in a while due to the many cuts and blisters on her feet. Devarak was unfazed by the journey, he was used to up sleeping with a draft, eating two meals a day, and being on the road. He knew how to survive and how to improvise.