Gryphons in Greenden

"So lighting the fire was a bonehead call."

You turn. Erric's words are the first either of you have spoken since leaving the forest and coming upon the open road. You have both decided to ditch your uniforms in favor of the plainer clothing you brought along - the plain leather and wool gear declares you as swordsmen, but not Gryphon knights.

"Yes. A bonehead call it was."

Erric grunts. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize. We'll be sleeping in an inn tonight. And besides, you were prepared with your knife up your sleeve."

Erric's signature grin comes back. "Did you ever doubt me, ace? I'm glad you decided we could take those bastards. I doubted they were going to give us the benefit of any doubts."

"Probably not," you agree reluctantly. You don't like provoking fights, but you probably made two mistakes last night: lighting the fire and staying in uniform. You'll remember not to do either anymore.

Toward evening, dust clouds drifting across the road from your horses' hooves, you come upon a village, right where it should be according to your maps.

Erric is humming some bawdy tune about large-breasted milkmaids and you feel your spirits lighten as you anticipate a night to be spent with a warm dinner and a proper bed. Perhaps here will be a good place to start asking about Princess Dara's whereabouts as well.