“Like the little man could refuse,” Beleg laughed. “Who would not want to ride with the august Red Feather Adventuring Company?”
“Keeping in mind too,” Kersath added in his snide, sly way, “that joining our ranks is the only way to travel with us. Else, we’ll have to say our teary farewell here and leave you in the forest. Alone.”
Kersath raised his hands in defense when Talimar turned to glare at him. No words needed to be said by their leader, the sharp look was enough to deter the dark elf and any others from speaking up.
Talimar turned back toward’s Kre and nodded. “Despite speaking out of turn, he speaks truly. We cannot allow you to accompany us if you are not a member, and we have work to get to as soon as possible. So while normally it would take us far longer to vote anyone into our ranks, and while we’d usually give someone more time to consider it, we are in a bit of a hurry here.”
Kre nodded. “Thank you,” he said in earnest appreciation, “for both the consideration you’re making given the time constraint and for the offer. I can say that joining up with an adventuring party had always been a dream of mine…”
Ras sighed and scrunched up his face, sensing the words about to come.
“But,” Kre added, noting the disappointment in his small friend’s face, “I must continue south. I’ve sworn an oath and, though I have strayed from it these past few weeks, I still fully intend to carry it out.”
“South, eh?” Ortho repeated, tugging at his beard. “That’s settled then.” He turned to face the others and called out, “Company, mount up!”
The group dispersed with such alactrity that Kre was left standing in an empty clearing, wondering if he had insulted them with his refusal. He heard packs being cinched to saddles, the jingles of harnesses, and the familiar clip-clopping of hooves as the horses eagerly awaited the opportunity to get to work.
“Kre!” It was Ortho’s deep voice calling out from behind him. He spun around and spotted Ortho already astride a wide-bodied pony and leading another, much larger horse by the reins.
“Talimar may lead the company,” the dweorvkin called out, “but I’m in charge of the company’s day-to-day operations. When I say jump, you had better be in the air before the last breath leaves my body.”
Kre blinked quickly, his mind racing to parse what was going on and coming up empty. “I’m sorry?” was the only thing he could come up with.
“Sir!” barked the bearded man. “Since you’re just a probationary member, you’ll address us as ‘Sir’! Understand?”
“No sir,” Kre replied quickly, adding in the honorific almost instinctively. “I apologize if there’s a misunderstanding, but I can’t join your ranks.”
Ortho glared down at him and muttered something into the thickness of his beard. He tugged at the reins in his hand and led the horse forward a few steps towards Kre. “Mount up boy,” he said, his voice a bit calmer this time. “You need to head south, and south is where we’re headed. It only makes sense that you ride with us, at least as far as you can until we need to split up.”
“And,” Ras said happily, leading his own pony into the clearing, “if you happen to realize that being part of our company is more to your liking than whatever it is you have to do, you can decide to stay with us.”
“Now,” Ortho growled, “get on the damn horse so we can leave already.”