[img]https://i.imgur.com/xkXbb0W.png[/img]

Well, they didn't fight in the middle of the town. That was a good sign. Though, that only meant that Renauld's expectations had plummeted down deep. Well, 'keep it to himself' was his mantra. His newfound companions got into some antics from their pure manic energy including (but not limited to) eating a chicken from a burlap sack, disrobing a small child, and getting very angry about stolen introductions. All Renauld could do in response was smile and give a slight chuckle. Oscar, the other straight man of the group, had suggested they go out on a meal to feed the starved priestess.

[color=C69E6B]"Sorry but I think I'll be busy with prep."[/color]

Renauld would not take the ranger up on his offer.

[hr]

His preparations were complete. In a sturdy gunny sack, he had three bricks of pemmican, some hardtack, a small scrap of iron and flint, a small bottle of clear booze, and a water bladder. All and all, the entire travel package cost him a silver. As the only saying went, you had to spend money to make money. His equipment was rather sparse, but that was because it was for only him. The hunter would usually have to prepare things like a shelter or the fire itself, so he could afford to prep lightly. For the most part. In a pinch, he might be able to make something like an igloo. What was the most important thing was, however, not dying in the god forsaken cold. His winter gear that he already owned would suffice. He didn't need to stay warm to keep his mobility. He was a mage, after all.

He did load up his calories, though. Not enough to make him feel sick, but enough to make him feel like he would be satiated in the biting cold.

Soon he arrived at the recruiting office to meet up with his party. Then he moved with them to the granary. The page gave them a basic rundown of everything. Don't die and do deliver. Those were the basics of the operation. All they had to do was load up the cart then haul ass to the fort. Katya had, meanwhile, flopped. In an attempt at lifting grain, she had fallen only to bounce back up. She was tenacious, Renauld could give her that. She struggled to lift it, but she did end up picking it up. Ettamri had, at the turnip's request, picked chosen a cart and given Renauld the 'weak mage job' of loading the cart. Well, he was decent at that. He was also decent at ignoring the overt threat that Ettamri had delivered to the group.

Picking up a sack of grain from one of the holes, he lifted it to the cart. He placed it directly in the corner, making a note of how much space it took in the bed of the cart. Quickly counting and doing some napkin math, he guesstimated the amount of bags that could fit inside of it.

[color=C69E6B]"About 40 bags? 50 if we use the tarp and rope as tension. Just put bags on the cart and I'll rearrange them all."[/color]

He wasn't exactly a weakling nerd that was picked on. His arms, were still adequately sized for lifting fourty or so pound bags. The mage lifestyle related atrophy hadn't struck him just yet.