-----With the temperatures climbing to where it is uncomfortable, many of the peasants this time walk away from Lovan; a look of disdain on their faces.
-----The blacksmith suddenly dashes from the main hall and makes his way toward the shouting priest. “Quiet you!” he says to Lovan. “We wish no more trouble from the soldiers!”
-----The storm priest then looks at the blacksmith with a dark cast in his eyes. “Fool!” Lovan calls him, “do you not see the Great Rager will show his Fury this very day?”
-----It's the beginning of Lovan's oft-repeated story of the green dragon that rouses Sol from a slumber full of restless dreams. Grumbling, he pulls himself to his feet and regards the rambling priest with a look of failing patience. He collected his thoughts for a moment, and strides over to where the blacksmith confronts Lovan. Sol stops a couple of feet away from the man and replies to his question in a tightly wound voice, "P'raps so, but time an' place, Lovan, time an' place. We're out o' here in less than an' hour, so keep from disturbing these good folk. If th' Rager decides t'show his fury here, well an' good, but there's little point in yer yelling fer now. Save it fer when th' foe's at hand."
-----As if almost on cue, Sol hears a strong neighing from the direction of the stables. Although their rest was short, Thunder sounded restless.
-----Garrison then strides up; the woodsman not yet wearing his chain mail. “It’s still quiet in the countryside,” he reports and his expression seems positive. “Earlier I did see some movement about a mile off to the west in and around the tangles there, but it could have been wolves or deer.”
-----“We should ride up behind the lines of battle,” Lovan suddenly says, his eyes glazing off into the distance. “Ride up behind our enemy and make our strike. Bring the Fury home!”
-----Dilton then walks up with a smile on his face. He narrows his eyes at the Storm Priest and then wipes his arm across his forehead. “Gonna be a warm one t’day,” he croaks as he greets the others.
-----"When we head out in an hour or so, we'll check those tangles off t'th' west first, just in case," Sol looks over to Dilton as the man approaches and shrugs easily, "Yes, not th' best time o' year t'be wrapped in steel, but I suppose it's a mite better than having a yard o' someone's sword in yer guts. Speaking o' which, are ye well enough t'ride Dilton?"
-----“Aye, that I be!” the warrior says with enthusiasm. “It be good we be helpin’ these peoples here.” Dilton’s eyes then widen. With a groan of recognition, he mutters, “That be right, we’ll all bein’ a’ ridin’ our own horses back. ‘Suppose I oughta pick one from th’ stables.”
-----“We did bring yours along,” Garrison reminds him. “We had him hitched to the end of the wagons. He’s there in the stables with the others. Now we’ll have to figure out if Jeilin is riding with one of us or if she rides.”
-----"Knew I forgot something." Sol grimaces as he waves a temporary goodbye to the three, before strolling back over to Jeilin. After mumbling a greeting, he asks her, "Do ye want t'pick out a horse from the wagon team fer riding? Or d'ye need t'ride double wi' one o' us?"
-----"Oh, hmm, what shall I do?" Jeilin looks up from the book she is reading and frowns. After a moment she says, "Perhaps it is best if I try to follow along on another horse. I will only hinder your riding into battle if there is trouble ahead." She purses her lips looking quite apologetic.
-----Sol concedes Jeilin's point with a small nod, then smiles as he suggests, "Well then, when yer ready, come over t'where they've stabled the wagon horses, an' I'll help ye pick one out." Without further ado, he begins heading that way himself, with the intention of spending some time finding the best mount for the job.
-----Sol then leads Jeilin over to the blacksmith’s shop where a stable is located next to it. In the fenced in area connected to the building, Sol recognizes the six dark horses that made up the team driving the wagons. Also there are the horses belonging to Garrison, Lovan and Dilton.
-----However, before Sol can get a good look over the steeds, Thunder strides spiritedly up to the fence, facing Sol and snorting impatiently.
-----Sol laughs good-naturedly and runs a hand down the steed's broad neck, then doing the same down Thunder's nose. Taking care not to bump his faithful stallion, Sol levers himself over the side of the fence, after deciding that vaulting the fence in platemail could potentially lead to embarrassment. The Gorian glances fondly at Thunder and promises, "Soon, Thunder, soon. In fact, if ye help me find a friend fer Jeilin here, we'll probably be out of here sooner." Clapping the stallion's shoulder a couple of times, Sol then turns to inspect the wagon team.
-----As Sol greets his horse, Jeilin walks along the outside of the fence, stopping a short distance near the wagon horses. She then seems to regard them anew and study them this way and that, trying to discern any difference among the six. Finally, she stops with a puzzled "hmm" and looks to Sol. "They all look the same to me," she frowns.