Onward

Morning came gently after the fight with the seekers. Mostly anyway. Waking up to Argent squatting in front of the fire without a stitch on wasn't Jarod's idea of an ideal morning. It wasn't even on the list of acceptable ones. The reason behind it was quickly identified but didn't help to clarify anything.

"What do you mean you didn't pack pants?" Jarod asked, pointedly not looking at Argent's nether bits. He'd wandered into camp that morning to add a hare to a strangely large pile of hunting kills, completely naked, and completely unbothered.

"That I didn't?" Argent asked, like Jarod was the strange one.

The others were busy cleaning kills and making breakfast, doing their best to stay out of things.

"Seriously, since when do you hunt in the buck? Where is your kilt?" Jarod asked, sighing in resignation.

"It got stolen," Argent said with a shrug.

"Fine, just get another kilt from inventory…" Jarod said.

Argent looked confused for a moment, then casually plucked a kilt from the air like it had been waiting there for him. He'd clearly forgotten he could do that.

"Stolen by who? That coyote girl and she take it as a trophy?" Pip asked, scoffing. He didn't catch Argent's matter-of-fact nod.

Jarod almost said something but bit back on it. Questioning how Argent managed to find a lay in the literal middle of nowhere was likely a path to madness. The rest of them had to ask around and pay well even in a town.

"Right, next time just… put something on when you realize you're naked," Jarod said finally. He'd said variations on it before and didn't expect it to take any more firmly this time, but he lived in hope.

They got back on the road before long, Argent's over-enthusiastic haul went into inventory. They wouldn't eat them, but wasting wasn't done and they could barter with it later if needed.

Things were quiet until noon when they met a group of the earls men on the road. They yielded the road without fuss and were left alone in return.

"Got some extra?" one of the soldiers asked, noticing Pip's pipe.

"Enough to go around?" the leader asked.

"Sure," Pip said, pulling out a fresh pouch and tossing it over. The men helped themselves and passed back small coins in exchange while they took the chance to have a break. Jarod passed around a water skin.

"Careful on the road, most of them have been run off but some seekers are still slinking about," the leader offered.

"I heard about them at the post town. Something about paying off the mayor and hunting demi-humans," Jarod offered.

"Bunch of bastard slavers from the midlands on the other side of that asshole of a swamp," he offered with a shrug.

"Should be sorted soon," one of the others added. "Earl's taking it personal-like. Setting up a proper guard."

"Fair," Jarod agreed. They smoked in peace for a while, resting their legs. When the last of the soldiers tapped out his pipe, the group stood and formed up again.

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"Mind yourself in particular," one added, nodding toward Argent. "They've been known to just kill demi-folk, not always try to take slaves."

He offered Jarod the water skin back, but Jarod shook his head, jerking a thumb at the spare on his saddle.

"Keep it. We're not far from home," he lied.

The man just nodded, slinging the skin over his shoulder.

"You think they'd be a problem for the lady?" Pip asked a while later, the soldiers long having disappeared from view. Jarod considered for a moment. He was a fighter and could size people up to an extent but it was relative to himself. He could've taken any one of them, sure. Still, the more he had to fight, the worse it'd go.

Three was probably the max he could fight and expect to get out of it without serious injury, if he was quick anyway. They knew what they were about in terms of group tactics. Something he didn't need his weird intuition to know. The Earl was infamous for putting coin into training his men, even infantry.

"Depends on a lot of things I don't know," Jarod said honestly after a moment.

He knew how brutal the skeletons who trained him had been. Knew most of the valley's residents who weren't rabbit folk were skeletons in disguise. What he didn't know was how many of those hidden ones were of the same caliber or potentially worse. That aside, the soldiers definitely wouldn't fare well in the dungeon. The Daggers hadn't, and they'd been trained for it.

What the soldiers could do was blockade it. Close off the paths to the maze and the foothills. That would be a problem if they managed it.

"Probably be fine," Cord said with a shrug.

"Yeah," Quint agreed, popping a lemon candy into his mouth. Reading while riding made him sick, but that didn't stop him. He was paying for it with an uneasy stomach, as usual.

Jarod didn't get why it was worth the bother, but didn't question it either. A man was entitled to puke if he wanted.

"What, your precious mentor going to deal with it if an army shows up?" Pip asked. Quint just rolled his eyes.

"Lay off," Jarod warned. Pip hadn't had a proper bitching in a few days and was clearly itching to start something.

"What? He can barely cast anything," Pip shot back.

"That illusion yesterday says otherwise," Jarod said flatly.

"I meant a killing spell."

"I liked the ambush being easier better. Killing's something we can all do," Argent offered.

"Same," Cord agreed.

"But what if he's caught on his own? Hiding doesn't get you far," Pip said, tone sharp. He sounded angry, but Jarod caught the care tucked in underneath.

"Then we've already fucked up," Cord said with a shrug.

It was true. Their formations all prioritized giving Quint room to work, and keeping him from being an easy target. He wasn't totally helpless without his magic, but he'd be in trouble if things went bad.

"Maybe the lady will let us take a bit of a detour," Jarod said after a moment. "We could try to hunt down some of those magic things we couldn't afford before. Like those sticks that shoot sparks, or that glass-looking stuff."

Pip was an asshole, but the point under his bite wasn't wrong. Quint needed to move freely, which meant no real armor. That didn't mean there weren't alternatives. They'd just never had the coin, or chance, to chase any of them down.

Jarod hadn't even thought about it before. He was used to being too broke to look at that kind of kit for more than a heartbeat. Even lingering near a display had felt like tempting fate or accusations of attempted theft.

"Fuck, well you ask her then because I'm not begging for that kind of coin," Pip said, blanching a little. Cord and Quint nodded in agreement, both still remembering how little they'd sold their silence about her nature for. It was an absurd sum compared to what they made working. Compared with the weight of the truth they'd taken on, it felt like nothing.

"Right fine, she'll probably say no but it's worth trying," Jarod said. He took a few moments to steal himself before making the call. 42 picked up quickly, damn her.

"We'd like to try and get Quint some better gear, magic stuff, but it means looking for special markets or auctions. Can we, please?" Jarod managed in a rush.

He sounded less like a man prepared to bargain and more like a kid begging for sweets. He hated it.

"Yeah, definitely. I'll handle the bill, so buy whatever you can," 42 replied.

"Just like that?" Pip asked, eyes narrowing.

Jarod shot him a glare. There was probably a deal coming, and antagonizing her wouldn't help the terms.

"Yes? I'd like more magic items to work with," 42 said. "And like you said, he needs better gear. Keep me updated on how the search goes."

"Right," Jarod said, still braced for the catch.

"Great. Talk to you later, then," 42 added, and the call disconnected.

"I like her," Argent said with a sunny smile.

Everyone else just stared at him.

They all knew he was a couple marbles short on a good day. They'd just never realized it was this many. Honestly, it was impressive he could function and still have a thought like that in his head.

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