The trip towards Zephyr left the party once again alone on the trail, at least at first. Despite being the one who had met the orc prior, Rala stayed apprehensive long after the party agreed to travel with him. Her hand never left her hilt and her eyes darted about looking for an ambush or a tell from the dire wolf but the road remained relatively safe.

Over the next couple of hours cascade regaled them with anecdotes and stories of her hometown. At first Rala tried to ignore them but a few stories managed to get a short chuckle from the brooding blade maiden. More than anything the stories made her yearn for home and reminded her of all the tales she could never tell, lest someone realized who she was.

Seeing the tavern gave Rala a sense of releif, she was weary to going back to sleeping on the side of the road. The stars only gave so much comfort and her pockets where still fat with coin. The rest of the group proudly and loudly entered and Rala couldn't help but shrink back, practically enveloping herself in her cloak. The giddiness of the tavern was too much for her gruff disposition, and she had a hard time believing that such hospitality could be real. Sheepishly she moved to join the rest of the group and sat down. She seemed worried abkut the orders the group requested.

[color=RosyBrown]"We're nearing Zephyr. Don't you think you should pace yourselves?"[/color] She asked in regards to the orders of whiskey and ale.
[color=RosyBrown]"Perhaps it would be a good time to work out a strategy"[/color]