Dashyl's Quest

Dashyl handed the varyl-smeared bread to Fretly as his friend returned to their little camp. “Well, what did you see,” he asked.

“Sap sandwiches again? My favorite,” Fretly joked as he bit into his meal, ignoring Dashyl’s question.

“Until we get where we’re going, this sap and bread is all we have. I don’t think it’s so bad,” Dashyl said, licking his fingers clean.

“Ugh. You can have my share of sap, next time,” Fretly said, swallowing the last dry lump of his breakfast. “The road to Anchorwatch is not far off. It joins up with the Cerulean up ahead and follows it north along the east bank.”

“We’re not taking the road, are we?” Dashyl interrupted.

“Shush and let me finish.” Fretly admonished. “No, we’re not taking the road, we’ll find a place to cross the river and make our way along the west bank. Just far enough into the trees to be hidden from other travelers. Also, we can keep watch over the road to see if someone is chasing us.”

“Is someone chasing us? And how would we know it?” Dashyl’s voice carried a mock-panic tone. “Oh look, a big, bad group of curics is marching down the road with clubs and spears in their hands calling out our names.”

“Shut it, Dash. Seeing a curic certainly would alert us that something is going on, why would they have reason to come to Anchorwatch?”

“Who knows? What makes you so sure that you’re right, Fretly? So far, nothing seems to be how you say it is.”

“I know, but I’d rather be off the road, just in case. There could be other threats waiting for us apart from whatever is going on with the curics. It doesn’t seem to be well traveled. Come on,” Fretly implored, “once we get to Anchorwatch we can join a caravan and cross the plains to Trader’s Haunt. Once we get to the city, we can get lost easier, but until then, let’s keep our guard up.”

“Okay. I’m ready to go. I’m anxious to see Anchorwatch. I haven’t been to any cities outside the Legion lands,” Dashyl admitted.

“Ha. I’ve never been to any cities inside the Legion lands. Nor have I been to Anchorwatch. Let’s get going so we don’t have to be anxious about getting there any longer.”

“Agreed,” Dashyl answered as his companion slapped him on the back. The two slid on their backpacks and walked through the thick grass at the river’s edge.

The going was rough. The road proved farther away than Fretly made it seem. The river was narrower through this stretch but also became a rushing ribbon of whitewater as the land sloped downstream to the south. Eventually, they reached a plateau of sorts where the river widened out and the current slowed.

“I think we can cross here, Dash. It looks shallow and slow enough that we can walk,” Fretly called out.

“Right. Lead the way,” Dashyl called back.

The travelers held their packs above their heads as they made their way carefully across the slippery, rocky river bottom. Neither fell, miraculously, and the two collapsed once they reached the other side. They were cold, wet and tired.

Fretly was the first to speak. “Let’s make a camp in those tress over there and eat. Night is coming soon. We’ll get a good sleep and in the morning start out again. We might make Anchorwatch by the end of tomorrow.”