The wagon train of the Rhodok adventuring company had over a dozen wagons, carrying some 150 well-trained and well-armed soldiers. Some 30 mounted riders were dispersed throughout, to ensure communication and to serve as a light cavalry force.
Cael caught the attention of one of the Equitatus, who had just reported to the wagon in front of theirs.
The horse-mounted Eques rode closer, briefly checked Caelistis' rank, and saluted, "Decanus, the lead wagon has discovered something of interest. Do you have any scouts in your tent group skilled in tracking?"
Cael placed his chin against his fist in thought, "No, I don't think we have--"
The thin, hooded warrior stood up, her hand adjusting the sword on her hip. Everyone in the wagon gawked, including Justus. It was the largest motion Zehr had made since her silent introduction at their journey's beginning.
Cael's mouth twitched. It appeared he had also been caught off guard, "R-right. My mistake. Go ahead, Zehr."
"At once, Decanus, "An unmistakably male voice spoke from underneath Zehr's hood.
Zehr crouched down, grabbed the edge of the wagon railing, and hopped off. With the mounted warrior's horse at a trot, the hooded figure kept pace at a steady jog.
Rena half-stood as she stared at the departing warrior. When she was certain he was out of earshot, she kept her voice low to curse, "Flame take me! I thought Zehr was a girl this whole time!!"
Justus grinned, "That's what you get for making assumptions."
"And did you know, Munifex Justus?" Gianna asked playfully. She had placed a finger on her chin, accentuating a beauty mark next to her lips.
Justus laughed, placing his hand on the back of his head, "Haha, I didn't either."
"Miss Rena, if you were curious, why didn't you ask?" Giana offered.
Justus was curious of Rena's reasoning, as well. The archer wasn't shy about anything. She was the only fish capable of talking back to Decanus Caelistis without getting torn to shreds. Over the past several moons, even Cael had learned not to test her snake-tongue when she was in one of her... moods.
The brunette archer crossed her arms and shivered in exaggeration, "Ehehe... She seemed kinda scary-- err... I mean he did."
Cael scoffed, turning his body to sneer at Rena with his blonde goatee and wispy mustache, "So there is something the Bitch of Leopardon is scared of."
Rena stood up with her hands on her hips, "And how about you, Decanus? How can you call me and Justus fish, but you call Zehr by her-- by his name!?"
The Decanus shrugged, "Because you two look, talk, and act like fish. You're fish. And regardless of the shite-armor that hood-and-cloak wears, he's not really... fish-material."
"I see..." Rena sat down... but popped up again with a face full of fury, "Flame TAKE YOU, Decanus!! What do you mean BITCH of Leopardon?!?"
The wagon groaned as a collective whole as Justus placed his face into his hands. As clever as Rena could be, sometimes there were only clouds in that head of hers.
Cael swayed back as if moved by the archer's anger, "Heavens and hells, calm your tits, Fish."
"By. The. Flame. Sexual harassment!!" Rena cried out, "You guys are all witnesses! I'm being sexually harassed!!"
"C-calm down, Miss Rena. The Decanus didn't mean it like that," Gianna shot Justus a guilting look.
Justus coughed into a closed fist. He supposed it was time for him to stand up for his friend, "Decanus, if I may?"
Cael raised an eyebrow, "Yeah? What is it, then?"
"Asking Munifex Rena to 'calm her tits' is technically incorrect..." Justus calmly explained.
Rena's eyes lit up, "Yeah, Justus! I knew you loved me!!"
"--as she doesn't have any tits to speak of."
...
Tycondrius cut his hunting knife into the waste pile, grimacing.
One of the scouts approached from the woods, "Same tracks all around. They're too big to be wolves, though... and there's at least a dozen of 'em."
"Maybe... we've got some really big wolves to worry about?" Another scout offered with uncertainty.
"Hah. Flame take your head, man. That's a terrifying thought."
The cavalryman called the scouts over, "Munifex Zehr found some dung! Come check it out."
Tycon had joined the Rhodok adventuring company as a freelancer under the pseudonym of Zehr. He had a goal that just so happened to coincide with their latest Gold-Rank undertaking and he had a mind to ensure that the company survived at least until that could be achieved.
The scout looked over his shoulder, "It... resembles wolf-droppings. Stinks just as bad, that's for sure. What do you think, Munifex?"
Tycon shut his eyes, pretending to think.
« System, analysis: Droppings. »
⟬ Analyzing... The feces were produced by a male Iredar, approximately 2.5 bells prior. ⟭
Hidden within Tycon's psyche was a multi-functional System, capable of automating his Skills, translating languages, and most importantly, deciphering both the magical and the mundane. Unfortunately, the results of its analysis did not bode well for the Rhodok guild.
Tycon stood up, "Iredar droppings. Eques, please advise the Primus Pilus that we should find a way around this area."
The three men exchanged looks of shock.
The Eques grimaced and sucked in air through his teeth, "Heavens and hells, Munifex. What's an Iredar?"
"A kobold."
...
Word managed to travel faster than Zehr did. The cloaked gentleman returned with the sun illuminating his face beneath his cloak.
Bright green hair flanked the sides of his young face, no older than 19. His golden eyes were set into a hard stare, disappointed by recent events.
"Holy Flame... he's... really hot," Rena whispered.
Justus rolled his eyes, "You're drooling, Fish."
Rena wiped off her mouth with the back of her hand like a barbarian and glared, "You're a fish!"
Decanus Caelistis frowned at Zehr as he climbed back into the wagon, "I hope you're happy, Munifex Zehr. Now the whole cohort thinks our tent group's terrified of dog shite on the side of the road."
Zehr gave a noncommittal shrug, "I have provided my professional opinion. It is the Primus Pilus' right to ignore it."
Eques: Single cavalryman, one of the Equitatus.
Primus Pilus: The head centurion who leads the Rhodok guild.
Centurion: Leader of a century (100 troops).
Cohort: Technically 600 troops (6 centuries), but used to describe the whole of Rhodok’s 2 centuries.