Ranar Bolijyr
With things quieted down, Ranar tends to setting up their companions’ bodies in dignified postures as well as he can. Blue Hawk with his drum and spear, Jibril and de Courcy with their weapons at rest, Aronn resting peacefully.
That unpleasant act done, he heads to the armory pile. He’s not going to leave all this loot to centaurs and assassins. After a brief longing look at the mace and morningstar, he leaves them, instead gathering up the easier-to-carry swords. Along with one of the elven assassin swords, he ties the hilts together and wraps the bundle in a bit of cloth and slings it from his backpack.
Back in the entryway, he sorts the coins and jewelry into two piles (just by chance of the order that he draws the coins, gold tends to go into his own pile while Thwip’s pile gets an equivalent value counted out in other metals).
“I’ve got these weapons, they’ll be worth something and we’ll split that when we get it. Th-Think you can carry that box and those potions?” he asks Thwip. “I don’t know much about that sort of thing, but they could be pretty valuable. I’m going to take a look topside.”
After a quick peek out the entrance looks all clear, he returns to Thwip. “Let’s get outta here. T-t-try to find a local that can guide us to the nearest river crossing and into Cardiel. Then I think best to head downstream. Don’t seem a good idea to show ourselves in Tredroy quite yet after the incidents there. Downriver though, there’ll be a port. We can sell off some of this stuff, maybe find out what’s in that box and what we’ve gotten ourselves into.” He shudders. “What think ye?”
Aronn had said, ‘the Master must not find it’. Having seen the boss’s power, Ranar silently cringed at the thought of what Aronn would call ‘the Master’.
