The sign says "Welcome to Stonebarrow", with a smaller scrap of board underneath that says 'No Hordes' and a few more scraps at the base of the post that might have one spelled out 'You must be this tall to enter.' To the south of the road (which is basically just two wagon ruts) the swamp is still covered in morning mist, and to the north is forest. Supposedly there are homesteads scattered through it, for people that don't care to live with the 'hustle and bustle' of downtown Stonebarrow itself. Somewhere to the west lies the town of Trollhaven, and the riverboat docks.
In a tree just off to the side of the road, not far above the ground, lies an otter. Her hat pulled down over her eyes and hre pack slung over a nearby branch. She swings her tail idly below the branch.
Aviri Chalk looks surprisingly good-spirited as he ambles dreadfully toward the sign. With his satchel, he almost looks like he's going for a usual herb-gathering spree somewhere, though his step lacks the bounce it would have had if he were.
Somewhere behind him, Trilup follows along with her pack, whistling and trying to not look like she's obviously following the Lapi.
"Ah, you're all here," Silv's voice whispers once everyone reaches the sign (if not the ground). "I'm really grateful for this, you know."
Lin grabs her pack and hops down when Silv speaks up. "Ya really think we could pass up summin' like this?"
"Well, that most of us would pass up sumthin' like this," Trilup offers.
Aviri nods to Silv and then again at Trilup's addendum. "Everyone ready?"
Trilup stands up straight and salutes. "All ready, Commander Chalk!" she claims.
Lin gives her gear a quick once over and adjusts her hat so it sits at just the right jaunty angle. "All set heir lapidant!" She chirps.
Aviri looks at each of them, in turn, as if they were crazy. "Wonder what I'm heir to," he says and begins walking down the road.
"You're a hare too, not just a regular Lapi?" Trilup asks, trotting to keep up with her shorter legs.
"Well he is hairy." Lin remarks, keeping pace alright at a speed just faster than a regular walk.
Aviri ignores his companions' words, focusing instead on the plants and lichens they pass along the road. At least he's not muttering to himself!
And so it goes for the next hour. Little side paths are crossed that lead into the forest, and occasionally there is a small jetty, but the swamp is gradually getting farther away from the road. It's also then their is singing, of a sort, approaching them from behind. "Oh, a wizard's staff has a knob on the end.." croaks a voice that has no business trying to sing, sometimes accompanied by the twanging of an untuned banjo.
Aviri sneaks a glance behind them.
Linyala keeps looking straight ahead. "What'chya see?" She asks quietly.
Further back, coming over a rise in the road.. is a covered wagon. It looks to be covered in old rugs, to be precise. Sitting atop it is a black Korv, wearing a derby hat and smoking a cigar, which might explain the bad singing, while occasionally strumming an ancient square-box banjo. The wagon is being pulled by a Rhian mare in rather plain skirt and blouse, but with a straw hat with a flower sticking out of the band.
Aviri keeps eyes on the carriage well beyond the awkward is-he-staring point, but turns his head slightly away to attempt to be looking to the side of the road, intent on some moss-covered rocks. "Carriage," he says to Lin.
"It's the shmoozy guy and the big woman," Trilup says. "She almost stepped on me once. And he tried to convince me mum that having the horse bang on his head with a hammer would make him better."
"Musta' missed 'em. Think they'd give us a ride ta Trollhaven?" Lin asks, now chancing a glance over her shoulder.
Aviri says nothing, turning his head back around to stare at mossy rocks on the other side of the road.
"Well, Dr. Fether does seem to move a lot faster than we do," Trilup notes of the mare. "Who's going to ask though?" The younger otter looks at Aviri, then at Lin - the more obvious choice.
Aviri casually angles off the road, partly to get out of the way, and partly to avoid having to speak with the raven or mare. He grips his satchel more solidly to his side.
"Just how is it that I turned into our spokesotter?" Lin asks then smirks and turns toward the waggon. "It's someone else's turn next time." She chirps over her shoulder as the pair on the waggon approach. "What ho there!" She calls and waves her hat.
Having a hat to wave does draw attention, as Dr. Fether brings the wagon to a stop. "Who said that?" comes the raspy voice from on high, as Tarr looks over the side. "Did you step on someone again? Oh.. Akwavi! What're you doing out on the road, young..uh.. ster. Youngster."
"Package deliv'ry through Trollhaven." Lin repplies. "If yer headin' that way we'd sure appreciate a ride." She gestures to her companions.
"Package delivery?" the Korv asks. "Three of you for dat? What's the delivery fee, eh? Don't want to tire out the doc here with lots of extry weight for nuttin you know."
Dr. Fether rolls her eyes and snorts at the suggestion.
"We can walk," Aviri says quietly, mostly to himself as he waits patiently by the side of the road.
"The package ain't heavy an it's a 'payment on proof o' deliv'ry' dealy so I don't 'ave shekkels ta pay if that's what yer askin'." Lin chirps, "Though if'n ya wanted ta hear 'bout how the frog prince keeps his room then ya might be inclined ta take us on. Buuut if yer not interested it's only a day ta walk."
The cigar rotates over to the other side of the Korv's mouth. "Well, a bit o' good conversation goes a long way, as my partner here is not one o' the world's great chatterers. Climb on, but don't be messing with any of the Miracle Elixir crates. We had a .. er.. bad batch, according to the town witch.. so have to get a good one, see."
"Thank'ee kindly. I'm Lin by the way." She waves her friends over. "These gents are givin' us a ride t'wards Trollhaven. Let's not delay 'em any more." She hops up next to the korv and sets her bag at her feet.
Aviri ambles shyly toward the wagon and climbs up beside Lin, hugging his satchel to his lap.
Trilup takes a bit to get up.. she's shorter than the other, but finally manages it. "Aviri here doesn't talk much either," she claims. "He mutters though! Like, a lot. For no reason! Can I try your cigar?"
"Only my wife is allowed to share my cigar," Tarr claims. "Gods forbid she ever catches up to me." Dr. Fether begins trotting again, hauling the cart along by two poles she holds in her hands.
"My muttering," Aviri says, "serves a very important purpose." He nods, as if the matter has been settled.
"Ent'chya s'posed ta be in love an all with someone ya marry?" Lin asks, "Sounds like she's comin' after ya with a knife."
"I sold the knives.. might be part of the problem," Tarr claims. "And love is sometimes fleeting. And sometimes her daddy has a pitchfork and a net. Don't you otters decide who to marry 'pending on who brings you the nicest fish?"
"It's a very special fish." Lin says sagely.
Aviri perks his head up at this little tidbit of inforation, but it quickly returns to observing the intriguing plants growing in the area.
"And what's yer story, pal?" the Korv asks Aviri. "These girls kidnapping you? Mebbe you're the package, eh? Chalk's trading you for a more talkative model?"
Aviri laughs. "Feels like being kidnapped," he says. "I'm here to ensure the package--which isn't me--is delivered properly."
"Ah, just wanna be sure, since the big one is wearing a pirate hat an' all," Tarr says, tipping his own hat and winking at Aviri.
"Wow, I've never heard him laugh before," Trilup notes. "Not a real laugh.. maybe one of those 'I'm about to go crazy and kill everyone' laughs.."
"Gotta watch them silent types," the korv agrees. "Never know when they'll snap. Except for the good doctor here, o' course!"
Dr. Fether snorts.
"Now that you point it out." Lin muses. "What have you done with our Aviri? Either ye'v been secretly replaced or yer dryin' out of bein' a wet blanket."
"Fairly sure I snapped a week ago," Aviri says quietly. He looks at the otters. "I'd laugh more if you ever said anything funny. Also, if we weren't in confusing peril all the time. Very unnerving." He straightens his shoulds. "Just feeling like I'm finally getting a grasp on things."
"Maybe Igor fixed him," Trilup suggests. "How come Dr. Fether doesn't talk?"
"To be fair we have spent a lot of time running away from things. 'Specially the past few days." Lin remarks and pats Aviri. "Good ta see ya lightenin' up."
"She's embarrassed by her voice," Tarr claims. "Silly, considerin' your whole town is full of tiny squeaky voiced folk."
The wagon hits a bump that jostles everyone. Did the mare hit it on purpose?
"Can you tell us a joke then, Aviri?" Trilup asks, all smiles.
Aviri shakes his head. "Don't know any jokes," he says.
"Not even about moss?" Trilup asks, looking shocked.
"I know lots.. but you folks might be a bit young to appreciate them," Tarr claims. "And Fether never laughs. At anything. I don't think she's even ticklish. But.. you know, she could do a bit of retrophrenology on your dull friend to make him the life of the party!"
Aviri looks at Trilup as if to say 'And who would I tell them to?'. "Retrophrenology?"
"That sounds complicated." Linyala says, "Ya said sumthin' was wrong with yer miracle elixer? What's it normally s'posed ta do?"
"Phrenology is the science of reading ones personality from the bumps of your skull," Tarr explains. "Retrophrenology is the reverse, putting in the proper bumps to create the desired personality. As for the Elixir, why it cures what ails you! Gout, dropsy, the wandering plerbs, trotting bladder, hysteria, halitosis and hair loss! However the witch pointed out the batch we had was actually just 120-proof alcohol, and that the otters already brewed that from apples.. well, mostly apples.. so we'd better go get some real elixir if we knew what was good for us."
"So ya could whack Aviri on the head just right an make him more friendly?" Linyala looks hopefully at Aviri.
"Not me.. only Dr. Fether has the precision and strength needed to rais bone welts properly," the korv claims. "She's got special hammers and a leather strap to bite down on.."
Trilup reaches towards Aviri, as if intent on feeling the top of his head.
"No, thanks," Aviri says. "My head's fine."
Aviri keeps Trilup's hand away from his head.
"Pleeeease?" Lyn mock pleads.
"Well, what you two young ladies like to improve about yourselves?" Tarr asks, switching his cigar to the other side of his beak again. "Or for one another?"
"Well I'm perfect." Linyala chirps. "Tril is pretty cool as well."
"Well... Lyn does kiss up to Emmett too much," Trilup claims. "And is too vain.. and smells funny.."
"It's SOAP!" Lin exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air. "Perhaps ye's be perfectly happy smelling like a rhugrat's backside but I like my fur unmatted and shiny."
"Also, she apparently sniffs the backsides of Rughrats," Trilup adds. "What do you think, Aviri? Which of us has the most perfect personality?"
"Moss," Aviri says. "Very dependable. And soft. Perfect bed."
Linyala says, "Ah Trilup, ye be so quick ta ferget yesterday's wagon." Lin says with a forced smile."
"I sat in the back," Trilup claims. "I thought that was just your scent!" She looks at Aviri. "So.. uh.. which of us is most mossy then? Do we have to let you sleep on us to find out?"
Aviri ponders a moment. "Dr. Fether," he decides.
Linyala gives herself a snif. She still smells like soap after the previous day's unfortunate Rughrat fumigation. Her fur could probably be used as a washcloth now from all the suds she worked into it. The smell lingers still in her nose like a bad dream.
"But.. she doesn't have a personality.. does she?" Trilup asks. Then it seems to dawn on her. "Oh.. you don't like personality, do you Aviri?"
"Everyone's got a personality," Aviri says. "Even if they're quiet. Dr. Fether seems dependable. Certainly more dependable than either of you, except for maybe your dependability to get into trouble. Not sure about Tarr, though."
"Oh, you can't depend on me for anything, I promise," Tarr says cheerfully. Fether snorts again, but turns her head to smile and not do Aviri.
"Mayhaps ye'd like ta go on with them an' les me an Tril dependably trouble ourselves with finishin tha deliv'ry." Lin huffs.
"When did I ever let you down or not be dependable?" Trilup asks, pouting.
Linyala says, "Is he searching the logs? He's searching the logs isn't he."
Aviri looks at Lin like she's crazy. "Kinda tied to the box," he reminds her. "But Trilup, you have been pretty dependable. Guess I just associate you with Ms. Collapse-the-Tunnel over here." He smirks at Lin.
Trilup puffs up and puts her arm around Aviri's shoulder, and sticks her tongue out at Lin. "I'm much more mossy than you it seems," she coos.
"Hey. That tunnel would probably have colapsed anyways." Lin sulks, "And if I hadn't been the one to do it it'd have prolly gone while you were climbing out the way you came."
"She's got her Scouts badge in deflectin' blame already," Trilup tells Aviri.
"I can't really blame the ship on you, either, Trilup," Aviri says. "Silv probably was forcing you to loot it." He casts a glance to Tarr and Dr. Feather, laughing at Trilup's comment. "See, now that's funny!"
Trilup asks, "How'd your magic elixir turn into 120 proof alcohol anyway, Mr. Tarr? My uncle makes scumble and would be really interested!" "Oh.. you know.. magic and stuff.." Tarr says, waving a wing. "Tricky things, potions. Clearly, the elixir should only be 80-proof at most, so as not to make the kiddies queasy."
There's another snort from Fether, which causes Tarr to add, "And yes, it should not explode when you jostle it too much." The wagon hits another rough patch, which does jostle and rattle things a bit.
The the brim of Tarr's hat does raise up slightly at the talk of ships and looting.
Lin casts a wary glance over her shoulder despite the reasurances that the crates are stable. "Say, you still interested in hearin' 'bout the frog prince's pad?" She asks.
"Ah, the Frog Prince, fine fiend of a fellow," Tarr notes. "Really seems to like a girl with spirit.. if not the ones with big sticks. Are you, perhaps, courting him dear girl?"
"Not if'n ya gave me the biggest fish in the swamp." Lin assures, "We did find his home though. Mess of a place. Not at all the kind of spot ye'd want ta take a girl."
"Don't knock the bachelor life," Tarr says. "If it weren't for that, wimmen wouldn't have nothing to work on the guy about."
Fether grumbles something unintelligible.
"P'raps lines should be drawn at piles of moulderin' cloths an old knives stuck in tables?" Lin suggests. "Guy should 'ave some degree o' class. Specially a prince."
"Aviri sleeps on moss, and he's .. uh.. well," Trilup starts to say. "Jack is classy! His play is a mess of stuff though, even if it is treasure!"
"A neat house is the sign of a man what's got too much time on his hands," Silv whispers to Lin.
"That's a good point there. Gotta keep an eye out fer guys who can't find summin ta keep themselves busy." Lin says out loud.
"I sleep in a bed," Aviri says. "'Cept when out in the forest."
"I almost always sleep in a bed!" Trilup claims. "Unless there's a really nice warm spot on top of the barge.. or the boat shop.. or other places. Once in the hot spring. And outside the bakery. And under the porch of the Frog and Peach.. but only ever in my own bed, for beds. Except last night!"
Lin catches up with the conversation. "I sleep in my bed too... Sometimes." She concedes.
"You don't sneak into other's beds when they're away, do you?" Trilup asks. "That's like.. advanced scout stuff.."
"Wouldn't you likt to know." Lin grins.
"Yes, I would," Trilup says. "That's why I'm asking!"
Linyala just smirks.
Aviri mutters something about heather on mountains.
"Fether's eaten heather, and most other growing things," Tarr claims. "Not sure that she's got any on her mountains though. I assume it's a rather sturdy fabric though."
"So.. what's this about a ship.. and loot?" Tarr asks, remembering that he wanted to ask about that. "Good story?"
"It's a long story," Aviri says pointedly at Trilup and Linyala.
"Long and booring." Linyala shrugs. "Just some rotten old boat full of junk. Ya know, bones and stuff."
"What sort o' bones?" the Korv asks. "Valuable things, bones."
"Unless ya want swampy, rotten bones." Lin laughs. "Tha whole swamp is full o' wrecked boats like that an bog sprites. Those are more fun though 'cause they get ya all turned around."
"The whole thing's at the bottom of the swamp, now, anyway," Aviri says, as if broken-hearted at the prospect.
"Shame," Tarr notes. "What about the loot?" he asks, tilting his hat back a bit, his coal-black eyes sparkling.
"It's at the bottom, too, I imagine," Aviri says sorrowfully.
"Which is funny, 'cuz it was an airship," Trilup notes, smiling.
Lin gives Trilup a look. "Yep. A rotten airship that we couldn't fix and that someone sunk."
"Ah, airships aren't much use in Sylvania anyway," Tarr notes, pointing his beak skywards to the perpetual overcast. "Wagons.. that's the way to go! Best way to travel if you have to. Lie back, relax, let the big Rhian do the work.."
"Do you ever pull the cart, Mr. Tarr?" Aviri asks.
Linyala braces for impact.
Fether turns and glares at her partner, before flaring her nostrils and going a little faster.
"My talents lie in other areas," the bird claims, as things get a bit more jostly. Bottles of elixir rattle together ominously.
Linyala grabs her pack and subtly nudges Trilup to do the same.
Aviri looks a little worried. "Do those talents involve not angering kind Dr. Fether?"
"It is all part of my long term goal to instill within her a sense of humor," Tarr notes. "And also that these methods of retaliation on her part are misplaced, because she seems to forget that I can fly if I need to."
The wagon slows back to a more sedate pace, and even slows. Finally it comes to a stop, and the Rhian lets go of the poles and turns to cross her arms against her ample chest. She clacks her big teeth together a few times as well.
"Ah, lunch break! Or late breakfast. Rhians need to eat a lot, you know," Tarr says, and pulls back some of the rugs to uncover a bucket of apples.
"Thank'ee fer not exploding us." Lin chirps, her eyes wide and her arms wrapped around her pack.
Fether sits down on the wagon, grabs an apple.. and offers it to Aviri.
"Thank you!" Aviri says, accepting the apple with a graceful bow of his head. "And thanks again for the ride," he says to Dr. Fether.
The mare smiles and pats Aviri on the head, then takes another apple for herself.
"She likes you," Tarr notes. "Not much to be done about that though. Still she'll get us to Trollhaven by late afternoon, just in time for supper!"
"If we're takin' a break, I gotta go visit the bushes," Trilup claims. "Riding around really loosens me up, you know?" She hops off the wagon and bounds up into the woods.
Aviri happily eats the apple, glancing distastefully at Tarr before putting all of his focus into a small yellow flower a ways off from the road.
Linyala slowly unwraps herself from her pack and leans back. "Lunch?" She asks.
Tarr produces a corn cob that smells strongly of brandy. "Early lunch. Late breakfast. Too early for beer, too late for tea. There'll be a few more though, don't fret!"
"Never too late for tea," Aviri says around his apple.
Lin sneaks an apple and takes a bite. "Thank'ee both fer the ride. Though I'll thank ye even more fer not explodin' the wagon." She adds with a smile.