Seryn smiles sincerely. “I’m glad we have professionals this time. You’ll want to speak with our guide Irumac about the route, there are a couple’a bottlenecks along the way. Our hunter Gori can help you with bows, and he knows the terrain extremely well.” She dusts her hands, and pulls out a small bottle of whiskey to calm her nerves.
“That should be it,” Seryn says and bids a farewell wave to the beast-kin. She climbs on top of the foremost carriage and stands next to Imri who is sitting at the front holding the horses’ reins.
“Owayou!” shouts Seryn as she hoists the long red flag above the caravan bearing the insignia of the Rhila Trading Company. She rallies the men and cries out,
“And we’re off to-!”
She’s cut short by a sudden thunder of explosions.
Bang. Bang. BANG BANG.
All eyes are on the sky as explosions rip upwards and blast into giant cylindrical fragments of various colours. They whizz and pop, flit, hurtle, whirl and whoosh into the air with deafening cannon-fire like sounds.
The horses are startled and Imri rushes to calm them, but not before they gallop a few feet away.
“What the hell-” Seryn shouts, angrily.
At the far back, there are cries and shouts as Malyvern rushes down the column towards the Beast-kin. The fireworks continue to pop and clap and the caravan crew scramble to secure the animals.
“Damn,” says Malyvern, clutching his collar in embarrassment. “They weren’t supposed to go off until we reached Avermore.”
The pops and bangs die down, and Seryn re-announces that the caravan is away. She casts an angry glare at the mage. Malyvern moves to walk with Mimi and Telwath as the mercenaries file around the perimeter. Ixuo and Glim are at the front, Phargought is at the back as per Glim's instruction. Ixuo sounds off with his horn as the carriages begin to move.
The carriages and wagons of the Rhila file off and depart from Kuasrine, they are heading west towards the Frigid mountains.