Ceara patted the flank of her brown mare, now dressed comfortably in her own travelling clothes.  Her trousers were worn and dusty, her white blouse was oversized and smudged with dirt, but it was comfortably familiar.  She opened the flap on her saddle bag, making sure that the first payment that Lucian had owed her was securely packed.  She looked past her horse, watching Nima carefully fix his fiery standard across the withers of his mount.  His armour was returned and gleaming with polish, with she knew had him nettled.  Polish was for parades.

The thief swung around, scanning the courtyard of Mirador for the rest of the little group as they attended to their own steeds.  A small band of squires lead three destriers from the castle stables, each of the horses draped in gilded steel and padded surcoats.  Ceara rolled her eyes at the heavy armour, turning back and tying her bags closed.  The thief noticed a basket of apples sitting next to another couple getting ready to leave the castle, these ones with an entire wagon to prepare.  Ceara stroked her mare, gently leading the horse over to the bin and taking a large fruit from the top of the pile.  She raised to her horse, who brayed softly and then gladly accepted.

As the thief drew near, Erika moved from the wagon to greet her. The half-manticore had changed into a set of travel clothes and smiled at Ceara. "Ah, I do believe you are our item retrieval expert." She then extended her hand in greeting. "I don't believe we were properly introduced earlier. My name is Erika Nilsson."

Ceara tied her horse to a wooden stake beside the apples, raising her eyebrow.  “Item retrieval."  She grinned crookedly.  "I like it.  Did you come up with that just now?”

Erika shook her head. "No, I came up with it on the way out here. It seemed politer than your usual job title." She paused. "What did the Grandmaster tell you about the items that needed retrieving?"

"Documents on Htraknu, held by some spiteful dickhead."  Out of the corner of her eye, Ceara could see Nima approaching, probably to scold her about the way she had arranged her horse.  "My name is Ceara, by the way.  You could probably tell, but I'm from Cairnleath."  The thief pointed to 'Ser Leintke', who was still lingering near the wagon.  "Is he actually a knight?  Doesn't look like a knight."

"That I am not." Called Herbert from by the wagon before walking over to where the two were chatting. "I am but a simple monster hunter instead. Come to think of it, I am not entirely sure as to why actual knights would refer to me as 'ser'."

Ceara snorted.  "They sure as hell didn't call me ser."  Nima arrived at her side, silently staring at the monster hunter through the gaps in his aventail.  Ceara patted him on the armoured shoulder.  "This is Nima.  Didn't call him ser either.  I'm feeling a little neglected."  The thief leaned on her friend, propping herself up while he stood straight and silent.  "Do you have a stake in all this, then?  Killing the most dangerous monster that ever lived has gotta be good for business, right?"

The monster hunter's expression darkened somewhat and a touch of sorrow was displayed in Erika's. "We do have a stake in this, but it's more personal than professional." Explained Herbert. "The two of us are from Krossavik, and if the dragon's causing trouble again, then it's time to pursue the old vendetta." He paused. "Besides, if we don't go after the dragon, he might just come after us."

Ceara jerked her chin towards the Knights of Solanian, still strapping plates of steel and padded material across their massive horses.  “If mister holy fingers over in that castle is right, the dragon is hunting the gods.  I don’t think he’s going to have time to come after anyone else.”

"He probably is hunting the gods as I haven't heard of any particular feud between him and Hargash." Mused Herbert. "But if he is hunting gods and he manages to pull it off, he'll have all the time and power in the world for clean-up."

"Alright, you've got a point, but..."  Ceara shrugged.  "Not to undermine the morale, but if this dragon isn't stopped by the gods, do you really expect us to do anything?"

"The dragon has proved that anything that lives can die." Replied Herbert, seemingly unfazed. "As long as we can find the dragon's weakness, we can end him. We can learn from the dragon himself in this case. He only went after Hargash after years of planning and preparation - just as we must plan our attack carefully."

The thief looked unimpressed.  "We don't have years to plan our little excursion. I guess these documents are supposed to fill in the gaps, right?"  She paused.  "What do you know about the guy that's holding them?  Who is he?"

"His name is Milo Demetrios, and he is a distant cousin of the Ilyrican king." Began Herbert. "Somewhat cunning and ambitious, but greedy, spiteful and with limited self-control. While he's managed to amass a sizable fortune, his flaws and indiscretions have kept him from being too influential in the politics of Viarosa or Illyrica in general. Feel free to help yourself to a bit of his wealth while you're retrieving the documents - so long as it does not jeopardize your success."

Ceara smiled again.  "I'd be happy to bring you two a little gift, courtesy of Lord Milo."  She wiggled her eyebrows at the pair, her grin growing larger.  "Always nice to see young love, eh?"

"Very thoughtful of you." Said Erika good-naturedly. "But you don't have to go to any particular trouble for us youngsters." She paused, still smiling and continued with a twinkle in her eye. "We would, however, appreciate hearing some of the wisdom that you have gained over your years of life experience."

Ceara’s smile dropped from her face.  “Are you calling me a whore?"  She put her hands on her hips.  "Gods, I offer to [i]steal[/i] for you, and you repay me by calling me a harlot mere minutes after you’ve met me?”  Erika's expression shifted rapidly to one of embarassment and horror. "No, no! Not at all! I merely meant to play along with the age jokes..." She trailed off with the horror being replaced with more embarassment and just a touch of amusement. "You were joking again, weren't you?"

“Plenty more where that came from!”  The thief smirked, draping her arm around her eastern companion.  “Just ask Nima, he loves my jokes.”  The slave-soldier nodded absently, but his attention was busy elsewhere.  Instead of replying, he put his hand on his sword.  Ceara frowned for a moment, following his gaze and spotting the supposed danger - Mostafa Idrissi, the bard they had robbed blind and set alone on the road, stood directly behind the couple from Krossavik.  The thief sighed, grabbing Nima’s hand and pulling it away from his sword.

“What…?”  The bard’s eyes searched all four of the people gathered, filling with anger.  “How did this woman escape her imprisonment?  This…  this…  [i]witch[/i] was the one that left me for dead!”

Ceara raised her hands in her own defence.  "Hey, that's not exactly fair-"

"You, you, quiet down!  I won't speak to you!"  Mostafa looked to the pair of Krossavikers, visibly infuriated.  "Do you know that these two are criminals?  We should report them at once, there are guards all across this courtyard!"

"We are indeed aware of that fact." Answered Herbert calmly as he met the bard's gaze unflinchingly. "As are the guards all across this courtyard. Ceara and Nima have not escaped, they've merely agreed to accompany our band of adventurers."

"I was not told that these two would be accompanying us when I agreed to follow this retinue!"  Mostafa shook his head, jutting an accusing finger at Ceara.  "This woman took my clothes and my lute, and her mindless pet tried to kill me!  These two cannot be trusted, mark my words!"

Ceara rolled her eyes.  "You have your lute back, don't you?"

The bard shot her a sharp look, balling his fists.  "I do, but-"

"You've got new clothes as well, I see."  Ceara smiled wistfully, taking a small step forward.  “Shame, you don’t look half bad without them.”  Mostafa was taken aback, gasping at the sheer audacity of the woman's advance.  He looked to the Krossavikers, waving his hands at the thief.  "Do you see?  She is without reverence, a creature that seeks only to vex me!"

Herbert rolled his eyes at the bard's theatrics. "Well, whatever the case, she has skills that we require. You'll have to put up with her for the time being." He then turned to face Ceara. "As for you, perhaps you should leave the poor bard alone?"

Ceara shrugged, while Mostafa seemed to calm slightly.  “I apologize for appearing so unruly.  You and your fair lady do not deserve to witness such animosity.”  He glanced at Ceara, his eyes hardening for a brief moment.  “I will be speaking with Lucian about you and your murderous companion.”

“Nima’s a sweetheart when you get to know him.”

“I’m sure.”  replied the bard, his voice thick with sarcasm.  He nodded to the Krossavikers, raised his chin in indignation to Ceara, and continued on his way through the courtyard.  The thief whistled, watching him go.  After Mostafa had left her sight, she turned back to Herbert.  "Sorry about that.  He has a right to be angry, but I just hope he calms down during this ride.  I don't know if I can stand some dramatic minstrel raving on for a few days straight."

"I also hope he calms down." Said Herbert, gazing off in the direction the bard had gone. "We've got enough problems without infighting. So remind me, what exactly it was that you and your friend did to him?"

"Well, we saved him from a group of bandits."  The thief clicked her teeth together.  "Then, we stole his clothes and everything else he had on him."  She put her hands on her hips again, shaking her head.  "In my books, that makes us even.  Right?"

Herbert's mouth twisted somewhat, for a moment, as if he were trying to hold in laughter but it was soon replaced by a disappointed frown. "Winter's coming, the first snows are falling, and the roads are dangerous. Poor bastard must have had the Trickster's own luck to have run into the Order when he did. I'm of the opinion that you should apologize, as you nearly condemned him to freeze to death."

Ceara sighed, rolling her neck in exasperation.  "He was a man that lives on the road, and there were cities all around him.  I had every confidence he would survive, and he did."  She crossed her arms.  "Still, I will say sorry, as meaningfully as I can."

"Thank you." Said Herbert. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it, and be less of a pain to deal with." The monster hunter paused for a moment. "It was nice to meet you, but Erika and I still need to pack a few things. If you have any other preparations you need to make for the journey, you should probably take care of them now."

"Yes, a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well."  Ceara took the reigns of her mare once again, pulling the horse away from the wagon.  Nima nodded to Herbert, and then again to Erika, and then followed his friend back towards the other side of the courtyard.