Roleplay

@ElphabaThropp

"I have a name." Garrett dryly said with a sigh, before complying meekly enough.

If they were really going to spend any time together out in the wilderness, he was going to have to work on that in particular.

@ElphabaThropp

Garrett pulled his arms into his coat, and shifted his weight between his two legs, listening to the hushed noise of his hauberk clinking against the inside of his gambeson. He took his blades, and slid his belt back on. He felt secure in his light armor. His belt clicked, and the familiar weight of all his equipment pressed back onto him.

He nodded to Gwendolyn.

"The cat should come with us."

@ElphabaThropp

Garrett whistled for the horse, and set the griffon head to his game hook. When the horse came near, he attached the hook to the back of the saddle, after wrapping it in oiled cloth. The man got a good hold of the reins, from where he stood. He then turned to look at Gwendolyn.

"I trust you can get into the saddle yourself?" He asked vaguely. He didn't want to out and out help her if she didn't need it.

@ElphabaThropp

Garrett was relieved. He didn't want this to be awkward because of her reactions. He then hoisted himself up into the saddle in one clean and learned movement, scooted in right behind her, and gave a soft cough to excuse himself as he reached around her to grab the reins.

A small kick and the horse was trotting away.

"Three miles away? Which direction?" He asked.

@ElphabaThropp

Garrett let her. He wasn't concerned so long as she wasn't mad. He watched where they were going, attempting to familiarize himself with the area.

The fresh air was nice. He closed his eyes for a half moment, and let in a deep breath, once again more than pleased to be on the road again. It filled him with a nice sense of purpose. Things were back on track.

Though he couldn't help but think again about the little enchantress with the porcelain skin in the court of Ferdenelle. What had her name been? Sarah? Sasha? He couldn't remember and it bothered him. She had been a canny and vulpine little thing, with a witty smile like glass.

But he was here, at least two years away from then. Two years away from his friends- the few of them, outside bootsmen. Two years and more than a few drinks away. But here--?

And with this curious little witch, Gwendolyn, who seemed unclear in her opinion of him. That was okay. If she was unsure of what to think of him, perhaps that granted him some safety in ambiguity- for if she were to attempt to use him she would have to consider the unknown risks.

Her hair did smell nice. He let out the breath he wasn't sure if he'd been holding for very long, and opened his eyes to look at the road in front of them.

Go to the town, get clothing and supplies, go to the next town across the marsh, receive your bounty, and then head next to the lowlands. There should be drakes in the cliff faces. Perhaps some vents. Somewhere hot, where salamanders might abide.

Find a well, get a wyrms' tooth. Easy enough. Gwendolyn can handle the herbs. Why would she need the heart of a Rusalka, a river vampire? Why the tongues of trolls and the eye of a kelpie? The ingredients became more and more exotic the farther along the list. Whatever the spell it was an older one, due to the variance of the ingredients. More recent and conventional spells were written with the knowledge of what existed these days. Garrett thought over his list of things to do, brow creasing.

After a short while of thinking over these exact things, the town rose into view.