Sarala tapped her fingers in her lap. Most of the trip she'd struck up conversation with Glasgoh, the friendly orc fellow, and his brother. The group didn't seem in the mood for cheery songs or tales of adventure, much to her dismay. She sang them anyway.
Glasgoh was seated next to his brother across the way of the woman, talking to him in a hushed tone as the others discussed.

Sarala took a moment to observe her travelling companions, some of races she had never seen. Then down to her swords beside her ankles. One scimitar, another her short sword she grabbed from Rhys and Rik. The journal lay there too, the place of her stories and experiences. The last entry was the eve of yesterday, after the dreaded funeral took place, most folks rested into their houses, stores, and the Goat. Picking it up, she read in silence.

The people lined up, dressed in black. I'm not the sad type, but seeing those bodies, those souls of the fallen pained me. I look for honor in what they did and even when I find it, it still seems unfair. They needed more musicians as they'd only obtained one, so Rhys and I were able to help out with that, thankfully. I've never played at something so sad. Not sure I want to do it again. But after all that, in the gloom and doom that engulfed Warfall, the folks at the tavern were in for quite the treat. Seeing sad faces as such gave me the urge I feel every time I'm in a social setting; entertainment! I grabbed my mug of ale and stood atop the counter, raising it in toast to those we lost. A song, a dance later, everything felt lighter, brighter. I loved it. Rhys even joined in and he hates dancing in front of people! Hope he won't get too bored when we set off.

The soft hiss of the page as she turned onto the blank surface, pen unclipped from the cover. And thus her new entry began, the men talking bout the plan for tomorrow. She, of course, had no valuable opinion. She was no warrior, no soldier. But she was an explorer. And when things went awry, that's when she could kick it into gear and at least save herself.
Thoughts about the elf, the orcs, and the knight ran among the ink. Orcs were a race she had never had the pleasure of seeing, and one elf at most. Humans, of course, were everywhere, but back home they were nothing like this knight. It was all worth noting.
A tune began to escape her lips quietly, a lullaby of her mother, yet only her father ever had the chance to sing it to the small child.
Kaine and Tei'ron were the most vocal with the soldiers, them knowing most about situations like this. In fact, they were heavily invested like no other she had seen. Professionals.

Gholis tended to the fire cooking small slabs of rabbit meat on sticks. The meat sizzled and charred beautifully, scent wafting into the air. Out here in the wildness all they could expect were wandering wolves or a curious bear, and it was nothing they weren't prepared for. Extra pelts and extra meat couldn't hurt. And the faintest sound of the bard's song soothed him.
Glasgoh had seemingly been shut out of all conversations by the four fighting men. His reputation preceded him. Looking around for entertainment, his brother wanted some time alone as it was healthier for him than a busy environment. These men were not an option. There just happened to be a single, unjudegmental soul left.
With that the orc left his shield on the ground and went over to sit with the bard he had met early on.

"This seat open?" He gestured to the emptiness of the green ground.
Her song went quiet and she looked up as if alarmed.

"Looks like it." She closed her journal in her lap, song ceasing. His eyes fell down to the leather book.

"Your singing is lovely. Orcs don't sing. Sad really." His eyes fell down to the book. A gentle smile crossed him. "And a writer, too?"

"Oh, definitely. But I mostly chronicle stuff I come across in here but... there are a couple works of my very own. Here," she let the orc take hold of it before standing. "While you do that, I'm gonna find a nice little bush to call my own." She jabbed a thumb behind her and made her way toward the woods.

One of the soldiers piped up, "Where are you going?"

"I gotta pee!"

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