Ruthnak listened to the others' comments in silence as he went over the route in his head. <i>There are shorter roads... this one is likely safer, though.</i> he frowned. He'd like to get this "mission" done with as soon as possible. Still, he wouldn't go against the rest of the group if they agreed to Crove's route. Half-orcs weren't the most popular race, as he'd found out many times.

(Crove and the mage aren`t the same person, and besides Crove is a sorcerer, in there lies a difference. Mage`s gain their magical powers trough extensive studies as for Sorcerers magic is a natural gift, but they lack discipline like the mages.)

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Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

(Whoops, my mistake. I'll edit. )

Kiana stared at Crove sharply, as if dissecting him under her gaze. Finally she gave in and said, "No objections. Let's get moving."

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"We should go." Arielle settled her quiver and unstrung bow more comfortably across her back. "To my thinkin', the sooner we're away from this ratden -" she nodded toward the city walls "- the better. We can argue - excuse me, discuss - the route on the way." She'd not be quitting this lot too soon; guards and thugs were usually the most wary on the first few days of a journey. Later, though, they got more comfortable as things settled into a routine.

"My thinking also suggests that we stay off the main road for a bit. We can follow beside it, but I'll not be easy being on it until I'm further away from here."

The mercenary stalked off in the direction of the road, hand casually on the hilt of her dirk. It was a comfort thing, a hint of solidity in a world where reason had ever so slightly been turned on its head.

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

"I see no harm... orcs and bandits tend to keep an eye on the roads so there is no reason to risk anything all tough I doubt that such a gifted group of criminals such as ourselves could handle it."

He said with a mock in his voice towards Jada who had earlier proclaimed her innocence, but to Crove no one was innocent and such petty thoughts of reasoning were beyond him. Crove placed the map back, scrolled, on his belt and picked up his bag that held some rations and threw it around his shoulder.

"And off we go, but should be interesting whom of us do reach Silverymoon"

Crove said and began moving along with the rest of them, but stayed with a number of thieves and from time to time exchanged a few words with them.

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Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

Jada, expression set, tossed her braid over her shoulder and stalked after Arielle, entirely satisfied to follow the one person in this group who actually felt the need to do something more in life besides trade petty insults. Or rather, something more in current circumstances.

Crove's snippets of information - the ones had had given out, anyway - might issue from one Jada would rather not be in company with, but they were certainly not lost on the dark-skinned young woman. Her scowl deepened as they walked on, now tinged slightly with anxiety. She would far prefer to avoid risking the wrath of some mage, seen or unseen. Jada's brand of magic, a desert one fitted precisely to that terrain and those surroundings, was essentially useless in any sort of conflict. It served more as an inner map and, at a stretch, a few survival skills unobtainable by mere foraging. She had found its uses sparse in the city, but had not bothered to conceal that she could use it. Why, when every dark-skinned, dark-eyed, dark-haired atom of her screamed 'desert'? Desert magic would not hurt any disguise she might be perpetuating.

And yet...in the last few years she'd dodged assassinations, several of them, and very likely planned to keep her from returning to claim her tribal right. This could be another scheme.

Quickening her steps Jada came alongside Arielle. "This...Crove," she began abruptly, jerking her head back in his direction, "what do you make of him?"

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The woman walked on in silence for a few seconds, considering her answer. "He certainly seems to have taken charge," she answered finally, keeping her voice low. Sound carried well at night. "And to my mind, he seems to be fair committed to this scheme. Beyond that, he's not one to make light of." She felt an odd impulse to fish out a knife and twirl it around her fingers, but she quelled it. Shows of dexterity would not benefit her, and this was strictly business.

Arielle raised an eyebrow at the dark girl. "And you? What would you be thinkin'? And what did you do, to end up in the Luskan dungeon?"

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Amaran let his worries simmer-for the time being. This Crove man seemed to take charge awful quickly. He wasn't quite sure of his allegience; heck, he wasn't sure of anyone's allegiance, but following the croud seemed to be the best bet at the moment.

Jada's first instinct was to snap, "Nothing," and let that be the end of it. She suppressed the urge, however, and eyed the mercenary beside her before answering. This story could spiral out of control, and Jada would not under any circumstances recount her flight from the desert to hide in the first large city she found - and over the years on to others, in order to hide her trail from those with less than amiable intentions. "Arrogant nobleman," she finally explained with a shrug. "I had been - learning - to be a scribe. He found the commissioned love letter not to his liking." Her lips twisted wryly into something resembling a grin. "Perhaps I was somewhat direct for his liking. Perhaps. In any case I charged him full price nonetheless, he was - ah - agitated, and in the commotion it was found out that I was unfortunately not of the preferred gender among scribes." She tossed her long braid over her shoulder. "It being males that are generally welcomed in the profession."

This was mostly truth. It did not explain why she had been posing as a scribe in the first place, but Jada was not inclined to bring that to light. Her speech, however, was almost lofty - the only hint of a desert accent was buried behind a practiced pretension at nobility - which she would certainly have learned from seeing a wide range of nobles requesting letters. The story fit, if a few elements were marginally lacking.

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"I do not think that what we have done is important. It's about finishing this and being on our way." Kiana said icily. She did not want anyone to find out what she had done to end up in jail. She glared and them and then settled on Crove, "I agree that you have taken the 'leader' title. Tell us, what makes you worthy of that title."
Kiana did not want to sit around and wait for bickering. She wanted to finish what they started.

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Hello, I'm Amoniel
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Crove let out an amused chuckle as everyone seemed to be wanting to know why he nominated himself as the leader of the group. He smirked at Kiana as they walked along the plains away from Luskan.

"I never claimed to be the leader of this group, besides you should have listened to my choice of words. I asked, if there were any objections to my propositioned route to Silverymoon, no one rejected my plan or had a better one so it was fairly democratic..."

He raised his voice slightly so that everyone could hear him and that they wouldn`t each by themselves question the current course of action.

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

Arielle eyed the girl as Crove's voice drifted up from somewhere behind them, trying to imagine her in a boy's garb. "Well, aren't you the lucky lass. I can't read a whit, myself, and can write even less." She felt no shame in admitting her illiteracy; it was a privileged few that received any formal education. Most folk were just trying to stay alive.

Privileged indeed, and her voice, refined enough, carried a hint of something extremely unfamiliar - but her eyes spoke of steel walls dropped between herself and any who questioned too far.

Arielle shrugged it off and offered her hand. "Arielle Merced. Sword for sale."

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Jada took the proferred hand. "Jada Cobaltin," she said in return, only the briefest of hesitations stopping her on the surname. It was a tribal title, and not much more - likely not known outside her homeland. "Scribe's apprentice until recently." A smile touched her lips briefly. Jada flicked her gaze backward at Crove behind them, but made no further comment, instead resting her left hand absently on the hilt of her scimitar and shrugging in reply to Arielle's earlier observation. "Not hard to learn, and a scribe's wages aren't bad by half. There'll be no returning to that, though, not now."

She didn't sound overly disappointed about this, and was instead eying Arielle herself with interest. "Is it hard to become a - a mercenary?" Jada queried, the word's unfamiliarity on her lips quickly disappearing.

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Kiana scowled and glared at Crove. Holding her head high in annoyance, she stalked away heading down their chosen path. If they wanted to get their job done, they would follow her.

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Arielle bit her lip, considering the question. "Well, it depends." And this time she did slip a knife from her cloak and flip it nonchalantly in her hand, throwing off faint shafts of light from the waning, clouded moon.

At Jada's questioning glance she continued. "If you're not the only bidder for the job, well, you'd best be the most dangerous, and ready to prove it. And the more jobs you've done, the more dangerous you become, for the experience, see. So it's naught but a vicious cycle, but for you being dangerous in the first place. And that," she made the knife disappear back into her cloak, "comes through training. Or plain dumb luck, which some of us seem to carry in generous doses."

Arielle thought back to some of her previous experiences and decided that she had more than her fair share, both of training and of luck. It was either luck or just the fact that she was an opportunist, and better than most at being in the right places at the right time. She wasn't so sure about this jailbreak, though. There were too many strings attached.

She turned her attention back to the woman at her side. "What, did you have an interest in my humble trade?"

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>