“How much further?” panted Tumbor, struggling to keep pace with the others, who in turn were struggling to keep pace with the fleet footed Elf.
“Fraevon slow,” shouted Jax. “We’ve lost them for now.”
The dwarf, seeing the others had slowed and Fraevon had stopped to await them, he too decided to catch his breath and walk. Unless it was into battle, Tumbor had always seen running, especially away from a potential foe, as something very undwarven. Being separated, and the events in Willow Morass swamp had taught him discretion was the beter part of valour.
“What now?” asked Melvin, more at home in the streets of the city than out on the country roads.
“We keep going until we reach a coach house. Given we are on a main trade route, there should be one not too far,” replied Jax.
“If those goblin haven’t ransacked it already!” added Fraevon.
“A chance we should take,” said Rohlen. “My sister is in need of rest, and food would be welcome.”
“Did someone mention food?” added Tumbor, finally reaching the group.