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[indent][indent][indent][color=gray][sub][right][color=white][b]Location:[/b][/color] Approaching Auonar, Sókngarðr, The Frostlands[/right][/sub][/color]
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Gudrik Temfarrow didn’t like the cold much.

The frozen wastes were far from the warm sun and greenlander hills of his homeland—of most. He hadn’t spoken much since they left from Ordrin Entheys’ private estate in Aelia. He didn’t owe his old friend a favor, mostly given that he was typically the navigator in these kind of outings. He had been on many of them, but none that he had seen before that caused such unease in Ordrin’s face. Whatever that was in these frozen wastes, in Auonar, was surely important. But what could be so important? It was a curious thought that had crossed old Gudrik’s mind many times as he looked over the motley crew of scavengers, wayfarers, and survivors. One of them stood out to him. Cleaner than the rest with a full set of perfect teeth. Smelled nice, too. He wondered what exactly their role was among the rest of them. Perhaps she was Ordrin's designated leader. A leader of a group mostly composed of girls, well, save for the orc.

Though he’d never say such a thought out loud. He was just the driver. The delivery boy.

If Ordrin wanted to send a bunch of women searching for a chest they could barely lift without the help of the orc, then that was Ordrin’s choice. Still seemed strange. But everything about the job felt strange. He hoped the ladies were more brains than brawn, but he supposed that was why Ordrin found an orc for the mission. He just hoped Ordrin's instincts would not get the women killed, especially the small one who couldn't have been much older than his oldest son.

“We’re about at Auonar now. That’s it, ahead.” He uttered clearly over the movement of the horses and cold, northern wind. “When we’re inside, I’ll wait at the stablemaster until we need to move. Do you really think the caravan is still in the city?”

It was a question to nobody in particular. Part of it was smalltalk, but it was a good question.

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