>>5219257After turning in the key, they were off.
What was a leisurely stroll for most, was a long, arduous journey for the injured half-orc, but she had come this far and was determined to see it through.
The group stood on solid land just outside the Inn-Between, the boat tavern that lay in the river, in the night-time cold.
It was past-midnight at this point, but still quite busy. A busyness she hoped to leave behind as they put some miles between themselves and the Divide.
The river lapsed against the stone reinforcements underneath the walkway. If the chill wasn’t enough to send the group going, the rank smell rising up from the river would certainly do it.
Fenton gave Grez a courteous, albeit slightly mocking, bow, “Lead the way.”
The group managed a decent pace as they travelled deeper into the lower district.
At least, for a while. No matter how hard Grez pushed herself, she eventually fell behind.
Which was a tad of a problem, considering she was supposed to be leading them.
The more lean man, Fenton, took little issue and, in fact, began to show some concern.
His brother Viktor mostly frowned and folded his arms as he waited.
Grez smiled apologetically, “Should really have worked on my stamina a bit,” she said with a half-chuckle.
“I did not know your lungs were in your legs,” replied Fenton, “It does explain the sharp breaths that follow every step.”
Not quite as convincing as she had hoped then, “Slight injury,” replied Grez.
Viktor scoffed, “Slight? You’re gonna lose that leg,” he said, arms still folded, “I can smell the rot of your flesh over here.”
Paling, the half-orc searched her mind for an answer, but found nothing.
She managed a chuckle, “Nothing quite so bad.”
The larger man shook his head and threw a glance at the position of the moon and stars to get a sense of the passage of time.
Viktor frowned then, he didn’t seem to approve of the pace.
Grez swallowed, she needed a reason. Thinking back she decided to rely on the reasoning she had almost believed herself, “You’re right,” she said, her voice cracking as she was forced to acknowledge what she already knew to be true, “My leg is fucked.”
In situations like these, it’s best to confirm the other person’s doubts rather than dance around them.
”I need the money from the treasure for healing,” she said with a voice that betrayed that she had begun crying, “I didn’t want to split the treasure, but I can’t wait – I don’t want to be a cripple.”
Viktor sighed and rubbed his forehead, “A charity case.”
