On the Outside

[Rezantis]

"You've got a point.  Can you ask Mirallia? Even if we take wild guesses, we can't be sure we're going to be right . . ."

[Bjorn]

Bjorn grunts.  "I can try, but no guarantees.  There might not be a chance before we get to Stormwall."

He eyes Nathan.  "You don't remember anything about the 'storm-riders' either?"

[Rezantis]

Rez thinks for a few seconds.

"Nothing that springs to mind, sorry . . ."

[Dracos]

"I didn't think that.  It's obviously more complicated.  But it's possible there's been some levels of victory in the past.  No one ever got hurt by knowing more history."

Dracos shook his head, putting his blade down and focusing on the conversation again.  "I don't think we will really get a chance to talk much either.  Hmm...  We know our goals for the moment is to protect humanity, stave off the dreadmarch, and keep the world from being destroyed for fun.  This may be the entirety of the test or may not be.  Either way, we have to keep our eyes open."

Dracos

[Bjorn]

Bjorn shrugs and nods.  "We all agree on that."  He looks around.  "Any other thoughts?"

[Rezantis]

"I wanna go home?" Rez gives a quirky grin.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn snorts, and it's not clear whether it's amusement or irritation.  "Remember why we're here.  If we go home without winning...."

[Dracos]

"Q-Bert will eat your brains."  Dracos snickered.

"Anyhow, back into the act."  Dracos went back to practicing.

[Rezantis]

Rez wipes the grin off his face and nods seriously to Bjorn, then turns back to his previous study of his sword.

[Bjorn]

"You know," Bjorn says, critically eyeing Nathan, "I don't think you're going to figure much out looking at it.  Pick it up, swing it around, and just try to let your body remember what to do."

Bjorn pauses.  "But, uh, let me get clear, first."

[Rezantis]

Rez smirks.

"Actually, I'm more worried about cutting my own limbs off, but hey."

Dragging himself (and the sword) upright, Rez walks a short distance away from everyone and does a few practice (get clear!) swings, trying to get a handle on the weight of the damn thing.

[Bjorn]

"If you're really worried about it," Bjorn suggests from the (distant) sidelines, "tie the scabbard into place, and swing it around like that.  That way, you'll break bones, instead of splitting them."

[Brian]

Rez seems to handle the weapon decently, and after a minute of practice or so, even so far as 'pretty good'.  The sword is like a giant, sharpened crowbar, with none of the grace implied with such a weapon.  Blood channel aside, this is just as likely to shatter a limb as cleave into it.  These greatswords are made to be durable, and dole out an awful lot of punishment while being used.

You can kind of see why such a sword would have the owner's geneology listed on it, as Phil's has apparently been passed down a good twenty generations.

But, regardless, after you've practiced for a bit, a few wagons pull in through the gates, and a few of the soldiers here watch the practice fight.  Their own weapons are longer then Bjorn's but shorter than the greatswords.  When the wagons arrive, the soldiers all run out, and start taking supplies from them.  It appears to be dozens of reed mats, sharpened wooden stakes (hundreds of them), and shovels.  In addition to this there is a small wooden cask that is handled with some reverence and loaded inside.

From there, the soldiers put all their personal possessions into cloth bags, label them, and load those into the wagon -- if you had to guess (and for Bjorn, he knows) you would say that they're setting this place up as a deathtrap before they ditch the outpost and head for the keep.  How they intend to mask their pit traps after diging them and lining them with spikes is anyone's guess, though.

While the soldiers are loading up their personal things (and the warden's, as well), Liandral and Mirallia emerge, and you're all assigned to wagons to acompany.  There are six of them, and you each get to choose where you're going to ride (plenty of room in the backs, only enough for one person to sit up top next to the drivers).

Mirallia sets herself up in the back of the second wagon, and Liandral chooses to ride shotgun (he found a bow, somewhere) on the lead wagon.

[Ginrai]

"So, everyone here feels like sitting in the same wagon as Mirallia?  Probably better off that we all stick together."

[Bjorn]

By now long out of earshot of Parthipan (having set himself up by the side of Madame Mirallia when the caravan arrived), Bjorn heads quietly over to his assigned wagon.   If the option is available, he takes the seat by the driver; otherwise, he sets himself down in the back.