The trail up ahead began to curve and slope upwards subtely. To the northwest there were mountains that were visible from the gates of Highmast, but were now lost among the trees and brush of the forest. All around them, armsmen marched and glanced toward the heavily thick treeline casually. Most wore boiled leather and chainmail, hefted spears and using them as walking sticks. Though some had plate armor and more armor piercing weapons such as poleaxes and maces. One larger man up front Markus knew by the name of Kerler had a spiked club made of ash. 

[i]She's quite forthcoming[/i], he noted. [i]A bit spirited, but there was nothing wrong with that. I am too. At least she wouldn't shy from a talk if I ever wanted one[/i]. Markus was not the most talkative person in the world, but he wasn't a shut-in either. The fact that it was a woman speaking to him also made him a bit more open. Not for any suggestive reasons, but he always felt that most of the men he traveled with were either going to be his fast friends, or someone he would just get annoyed. Most of them were not the former, and he had not spoken to many women mercenaries in his travels. There was one or two. Saerus the Ranger was now dead, he remembered. He had forgotten the other one's name. He wondered where she was. Probably dead within the caverns he had fled those months ago.

"Truth be told I have a bit of noble blood in me as well." he said with a friendly smile. The mule Markus guided sneezed and then snickered. He placed a hand on its muzzle and whispered to it. "[i]Dina[/i]," he breathed to it, using the Elven tongue. "[i]Lle maa quel[/i]." A few years being taught by an Elf, he learned a few things. He was by no means fluent, however. The beast seemed to calm somewhat, though from the words or the comforting hand, it wasn't clear. He glanced over the beast's back to see if something spooked it, but there was nothing. He did not yet have that sense of danger either. A sixth sense one gets from surviving more than a few skirmishes. It was a very quick look though, and he turned back to Valarie. 

Up ahead, Eloryen sat atop the back of one of the wagons and gave Valarie a tip of his wide brimmed hat, accompanied by a wink. Markus shook his head but could not help but smile. "I probably understand why you left a bit more than you'd think. But you're correct, if you're looking for work, this is the place." The road was now getting a tad bit steeper, and they curved back around as they arrived at the beginning of the mountain's foothills. 

"I hear Ogres make their home in the lowlands to the east, and Orcs as well. There shouldn't be too much danger between the town of Hillglen and Highmast," he told her. "I've walked this trail, but only once. If you ever need to hop on a wagon, no one will blame you." The young man reached into his pack, lifting his hand off his sword hilt, and produced some jerky. He idly began chewing on a bit, and he offered her some. He didn't give an audible offer however, his cheeks now fairly full.  
[@Luminosity]