His tail swished from side to side swatting at the flies that dared to nip at his hindquarters. Underhoof, sharp and uneven stones made walking down the last bit of mountain a somewhat slippery and dangerous venture.
When Iorwerth had left the meeting place he had not exactly picked the door he had intended. By mistake the pair had exited right on the mountainside of Northwatch and had the lovely task of venturing down the slope to the town's below.
They were making steady progress and could already see the bottom in sight. Once they reached there though, the centaur was not sure which way his companion would desire to go and therefore addressed Tick concerning the matter.
"Do you have a particular town in mind, friend? We could go left, right, or onward and hit a town in any direction. All of them are good of course and ripe for adventure and tales. It's just a matter of choosing, lest wish to see them all and that is fine as well."
Tick thought it over carefully, he enjoyed the trek down the mountain, being more focused on the view than the footing. "If we head on the left hand path we will pass an old man who sells wonderful stuffed breads. If he still lives, it's been a few years since I was last in this area."
((sory for the small post the heater in my truck doesn't work and the library is having boiler issues so my fingers are Popsicles.))
"Left we shall go then. Food sounds heavenly! I'll take your word on their taste as I admit I don't recall ever having them. Do you remember the fellow's name? That might help us in finding him," he said good-naturedly, practically skipping with joy.
"His name was Ross. Very nice man, if I'm any judge of character. Tell me though have you heard about a young man who killed a hundred bandits in a single day? I heard part of the story from a merchant. Apparently the young man came upon a merchant caravan that had been attacked by these bandits and something they did enraged the young man so badly he went of a murder spree. I don't know all the details but I know it took place near the border with Connlaoth."
((he doesn't have to know anything, I'm testing a plot line for a short story Ive put it on three other sites so far just to see what people think.))
The Centaur's eyes widened and his mouth fell open in surprise. "A hundred man," he spoke almost reverently. Now this was a story worth hearing. He gladly hung onto every single one of Tick's words.
"No I'm afraid I have heard no such thing. I have been away from home recently and have not yet collected the stories out in that region. Do tell, is there more to this story that you know? Even the smallest detail would be worthwhile. Perhaps we can find someone who knows more. I know I would be interested in knowing more."
Tick chuckled. "I too have been trying to find more on this man. His name is Ragnr and he's from Connlaoth originally. He is a Warrior Smith with a great deal of skill and talent. He keeps the most interesting company from what I hear. The one I heard the tale from heard it from a young Forest Spirit girl who traveled with him. He also has a rare Fire Fox as a traveling companion. He's in a relationship with noble woman. Which apparently frustrates the Forest spirit who seems to be head over heals for him." Tick counted off the facts on his fingers.
"Oh yes, and he is apparently just this side of immortal and can shapeshift."
Iorwerth gasped at the news. "Now him I'd like to meet! Can you imagine the tales we would hear from them, Tick? The adventures, they've encountered, the romance, the fighting," he practically brayed in excitement as his hooves danced about in the dirt.
"What are the odds you think that we could find this band of interesting people, should they truly exist of course?"
Tick laughed. "Yes my friend they are amazing, if real. From what I understand they travel frequently. We could run into them almost anywhere. When I heard of this man he had last been seen in the area of the the dragon mountains, apparently looking for some kind of metal that only forms in dragon droppings. A bit odd if you ask me."
The little gnome let out a surprisingly loud laugh. "I must say though, if he's half the man the stories say he is he'll be the start of a great ballad."
"A ballad? Nay, an epic! Oh what I would give to be the one to tell them, to share and pass on such tales to the whole world! Can you imagine Tick? Just think all the things your gift could inspire in them."
He sighed, already dreaming up the tales to be told before the first thing the gnome had said registered in his mind. "Droppings? You did say that correct? Can't say I'd be too keen to go mining for gold no matter how precious given that source. Although," Iowerth winced as he paused in thought.
"Well it would certainly be another tale worth telling, yeah?"
Tick chuckled. "The metal Silverite is made when dragons eat silver ore. No one is quite sure why the dragons eat it to begin with, but the metal it makes is many times stronger than steel, yet as light as tin. To top it of the metal shines and glows when polished properly." Tick recited the information in a confident manner. "My father often inspires metal workers so he ha a large grasp of the craft."
"I suppose that's what makes me the story-teller and not the hero of the story then," Iorwerth said, laughing it off. "I honestly could not imagine mucking about in...well muck. On another note though your father sounds like quite an impressive man. You too seemed to have picked up a thing or two from him if what I'm hearing is true. You know the more I heard of your people the more enthralled I become with them. That's not your gift talking now is it? Is there a muse of flattery?"
Tick laughed aloud, clutching his sides. "The Muse Gnome magic has many properties, but I have not used my magic recently, not since out initial meeting. And thank you for the complement, Our work is usually thankless, since we tend to work in secret. You know," Tick paused a moment "The old man should be just up ahead."
Even as the gnome spoke a small cabin became visible just ahead, with a thin trail of smoke coming up from the chimney."
Iowerth's hooves did a form of a four-legged jig in his excitement. He hummed in joy to himself, although the two sounded strangely like a chorus of 'food, food, food, fooooooood' repeated over and over.
"Hopefully he'll be in the receiving mood. Your high praise of him has certainly stirred up quite the appetite. Problems with having an equine disposition I'm afraid, you end up eating like a...well a horse. I don't suppose you have those kinds of problems though," he commented as they approached the cabin.
Tick chuckled. "Gnome eat twice their body weight a day at least. We have to. The problem with being so small our metabolisms are outrageously fast. We could starve to death if we didn't eat for two days." A they got closer and old man could be seen rocking in a chair on the huts front porch
"Welcome strangers. Ah young mate Tick, a pleasure to see you again, and it seems you've brought a friend this time. I've got some stew on the fire. I'll bring you some out eight away." The old man went in and came back out with a gnome sized bowl (a thimble) and a small trough full of the rich creamy strew. "Eat up lads."
"Oh wow," Iorwerth exclaimed, eyes widening at the idea. "Now that's just impressive, although it does sound a bit trying. Remind me if you ever need to break for food in the future then. I would hate to starve my best traveling companion," he ribbed with a wink.
The centaur bobbed his head in greeting, a warm smile greeting the man back. The stew smelled delicious even it's delivery was slightly comical. He had to admit a trough was a first for him in this form. Certainly separated into horse and rider Ylli had eaten out of troughs but never the part that remained as Iorwerth.
He warmly thanked the older man, praising him on the presentation of the food and introducing himself. "I cannot thank you enough. It smells heavenly and looks just as good. I'm Iorwerth by the way. Tick here has been telling me all about you. He's given some mighty high praise of your baking skills," he commented with a nod.
The old man chuckled. "I have some of my stuffed breads in the oven now, they need just a bit longer to finish cooking. Master Tick seems to have enjoyed them the lat time he was here, though most who try them come back for more eventually."
Tick nodded. "The breads are wonderful. Do you have a potato bread cooking? The one with cheese?" Tick was delighted to get a nod. "That one was my favorite."
Iorwerth smiled to hear the excitement in his little friend's voice. It brought him equal joy to see others happy and he dug into his meal with fervor. A hum of pleasure rumbled through his broad chest as he nodded his head before swallowing his mouthful.
"Sir I must say that Tick's praises while numerous and true fell short of your skills. I feel as if I have been cheated all my life over good food. How did you learn? And what exactly is this tantalizing sounding potato bread?"
The old man laughed aloud. "I thank you for the praise, though it is a bit much. My food is good and hearty and that I know for sooth. A for the potato bread. It is thinly sliced potatoes rolled into into the core of the bread with goat's milk cheese. The potato slices get tender during the baking and the cheese melts into a fine sauce."
Tick practically drooled during the description.
((this is a bread my grandfather used to make it is delicious.))
The Centaur's own mouth began to water at hearing the man's description and despite having already begin to fill his belly, it gave a mighty roar of protest at going without the delicious bread it had heard described in detail.
Iorwerth flushed in embarrassment, placing a hand over his torso as if to silence it. "Pardon me good friends. It seems my stomach has decided to run at the proverbial mouth without me again. And forgive me sir but I don't believe we have been properly introduced."
Offering the older man a hand in greeting, he smiled brightly at him. "My name is Iorwerth. I'm a traveling bard."
The old man chuckled. "Names Bennington, most call me Ben. And your stomach has the right of it. My bread wins baking competitions all the time."
Getting up Ben walked into the kitchen and came out with four fist sized lumps of bread that still steamed from the fire. The mell wafting off the bread nearly drove Tick into a frenzy. When his bread was set down beside him he cut in to it immediately with his little eating knife.
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance sir!" he called after the man. When the delicious aroma of the bread reached Iorwerth's nostrils he sat up straight, eyes closed as he enjoyed the deep inhalation he drew of it. He followed Tick's example and cut into the bread, amazed as some of the cheese leaked out onto the plate and a wave of steam was released.
The centaur clapped a hand to his belly and moaned. "Angsar it looks good! Thank you so much Ben!" A hurried bite forced his eyes closed once more as a second moan of pleasure hummed past his lips. "Best thing I've ever had," came his praises. "May I have the great honor of bearing your tale and word of your food to other hungry listeners? This," he waved his hands in front of him, "feast cannot go without telling!"
"Tell who you like my friend, my daughter and granddaughter help me sometimes and they take the bread to be sold in town, but fresh like this is so very much better." Ben settled into his chair, the creaking sound as he moved could have been the chair but it would not be incorrect to say that some of it was his body. Despite looking like a healthy sixty something he was in fact almost eighty years old.
Tick finished his bread quickly dipping the last bits into the pool of cheese that covered his plate.
Iorwerth gasped, looking appalled as he stopped eating to stare at the man. "You mean to say they are not lining up at your door? They indeed are missing out then. I don't think I could be so compelled to buy in town having come straight from the hearth now. Am I wrong Tick? This man is one of the great wonders of the world!"
Tick laughed so hard he nearly fell from his perch. "Indeed my friend. I have tried several times to get Ben t open a shop in town where he could feed the masses with his delicious breads and stews."
Ben grinned. "My breads are nothing overly special if someone put their mind to it they could come up with their own stuffed breads."
"Ah but my good man that is exactly the point! No one else is and that is why now is the perfect time to go into business for yourself. Not only do you provide the world with your wondrous meals but you also turn a profit. It's flawless and appetizing!" So saying, Iorwerth took another hearty bite of the food, making sure to hum in pleasure and appreciation. "This really is the best food I've ever had Ben, honest!"
Ben smiled and sat down in his rocking chair. "You might be right. I'll discuss it with my children and grandchildren. They'll be doing most of the work."
"You really should Ben. It's a wonderful idea I wonder if maybe one of my own kind did some magic in your home to give you the thought of stuffing breads. They'd make wonderful trail food you should sell the ones you make with meat and cheese to the Inns along the road so they can provide to travelers." Tick was a Muse Gnome, so ideas were his specialty and since the breads were delicious even when cold or baked extra long to keep for longer periods.
Iorwerth nodded his head enthusiastically. "Exactly! And just think of what good it would do for the town as well. Why people would flock just to get a taste of this! Oh and all the stories that will be told at those inns," his voice drifted off as his gaze became distant and the centaur fell into deep thought over all the possibilities.
"Such tales," he sighed happily. "Can you imagine it Tick? Why it would be wonderful!"
Tick nodded his mouth full of hot cheese and potato. Swallowing he spoke. "The trend could spread across the whole continent and maybe even to the Islands!" The Muse Gnome shivered at the thought of finding this delicious bead in almost every town and city.
Crumbs of bread fell from the Centaur's mouth unbidden as he considered such a venture before shaking his head fervently. "No I think that is going too far my dear friend. A massive undertaking indeed and I would commend you Ben if you tried but I think it undermines the specialness of such delightful dishes. It would lose it's preciousness if it became such a common commodity that everyone in the world could obtain it. Besides how ever would his family manage it, no offense of course my good host," Iorwerth hurried to add with bowed head.
Ben laughed. "That would be quite the venture but our friend here makes a good point young Tick, it would lose its value if everyone could get it anywhere. No these few towns should do. Now Tell me Master Bard, from whence do you come if ye don't mind my asking?"
"Ah," Iorwerth declared cheerfully, clapping his hands together, "now that is an easy question to answer. I am of Connlaoth, born and bred. My travels though oft take me far from home but tis there where my heart lies and ever shall it remain. Have you ever been there Ben?"
Ben looked up startled a bit at Iorwerth's place of birth. "I've been there, not a place I'd go again. Saw some poor lad burned at the stake just because he could see things no one else could. I've nothing against the majority of the people but with extremists like those that burned that poor boy it's safer for an old man who uses magicked creams for his aching joints. I will miss that city of art work though, twas a beautiful place." Ben ddi not voice the question that came to the front of his mind. 'in a place that doesn't like magic how can person like this be from there?
The Centaur nodded his head in understanding, the ever-present smile not leaving his face for a second though. "It still is," he added cheerfully. "Sure it's a bit rough at times to be a Centaur there but the people aren't all that bad. They just have a difference of opinion. Most feel sorry for me or for magic users in general. It's the radicals that give them all a bad name, but I'm sure the same can be said for any group of fanatics."
Clapping his hands he continued, "no you see what really gets me into spots of trouble is when I-" Iorwerth froze and looked at Tick for a moment before looking to Ben again. "You know I don't think I've preformed my one and only magic trick for you, have I Tick? Would you gentleman be interested?" His forelimbs pranced eagerly as he practically bounced up and down in place.
Tick and Ben both grinned at the thought of a magic trick. "By all means." Was Tick's response.
Ben laughed aloud. "Let us see it then my friend."
((sorry muse is a little shot I've been working with the new puppies who have begun to open their eyes!))
"Ah then give me but one moment to acquire the special magician's cloth necessary for this miraculous feat!" He joked even as he worked quickly to free a rucksack from about his withers. Once the aforementioned horse blanket had been acquired Iorwerth giddily shook it out for them both.
"Observe!" He declared, "an ordinary blanket no different than any other and yet it possesses the majestic ability to transform and transfigure." Holding the blanket in front of his body as he faced them so that only his upper chest and head could be seen, he once more gave it a shake to demonstrate there was nothing special about it.
Clearing his throat, the Centaur opened his mouth to speak and promptly sneezed, doubling completely at the waist. Behind him a horse nickered and shook its mighty head as if in laughter before stepping out from the still sneezing Iorwerth.
When he was at last able to straighten again, he scowled slightly at the horse and shook his head while wrapping the blanket about his human form. "He never waits! My apologies gentlemen I have an incompetent and stubborn assistant."
Tick nearly jumped when he realized that Iorwerth had become man and horse separately. "Amazing. I'd no notion!"
Ben took the transformation in stride for one of his age. "That's a nice trick my fellow. I've heard of shapeshifters but fold that can freely become more than one creature, that's a nice bit there." Ben thought of the few shapeshifters he knew. "There's a man as calls himself the windmaker can turn into a two headed goat."
Taking a seat, Iorwerth returned to filling his belly as he listened appreciatively. "A windmaker eh? Is that akin to a cheese-cutter by any chance?" A boyish smile lit up his features as he chuckled quietly to himself. "Does he live around here? A two-headed goat would make a good story, now wouldn't it Tick? I can already imagine the adventures and mishaps such a predicament could bring."
Ben chuckled. " Old Windmaker lives in a valley two days north of here. From what I've heard he either angered the wrong god or drank the wrong potion. His anti pregnancy charms and the other healing bits he makes are top notch though. A woman that bought his fertility charm had eleven children over the course of twelve years, after spending ten years trying and failing with her husband. I suspect he was making a potion to shapeshift and the results were permanent."
"Eleven children," Iorwerth repeated back in awe. "He sounds like quite the interesting character. If you don't mind Tick perhaps we can head there next? Or did you have somewhere else in mind. Ben's good food has made me not want to leave but I don't think he'd relish having a Centaur guest around forever." He laughed slightly, his smile reaching from ear to ear as he did.
"That sounds like a wonderful idea my friend. Windmaker indeed sounds like quite the individual, perhaps I could inspire him to make a potion of muse." Tick wondered at the possibilities of it. "If we Muse Gnomes could bottle the magick of our dance we'd make a small fortune in no time."
The man nodded his head even as he worried his lip between his teeth. "I must admit my friend I worry about such an endeavor. Would it not lesson the unique beauty that is the gift of your people? Though I suppose that is every man's challenge no matter his form: money and renown versus humble service that reaches so few." Noisily, Iorwerth finished draining the last of his soup and tearing into the last hunk of bread with embarrassed fervor.
"Potions like that wouldn't have long lasting effects. But you are right it would make our magic less valuable. However, you mustn't begrudge a Gnome his dreams!." Tick chuckled using a bit of bread to wipe cheese from his cheek where it had stuck after a particularly big bite.
"Oh I don't!" Iorwerth hurried to ensure his little friend. "Just would have you dream bigger is all, my friend. You're thinking a bit small-scale don't you think? Instead of marketing it all perhaps you should just...travel the whole world and spread your goodness that way!"
Tick laughed, a surprisingly deep laugh for such a small creature. "Muse Gnomes travel all over as it is. we search for the best possible people to share our magic with. the Greatest of Bards usually have a Muse Gnome traveling with them, whether they know it or not."
Iorwerth pondered the statement for a moment before smiling cheekily. "So you're saying I'm either not one of the greatest bards, or I'm about to become one. I can live with that," he chuckled. "Or," he trailed off looking side to side before continuing, "I haven't had one with me this whole time have I?"
Tick flushed scarlet. "Well not ALL great Bards have one but most have had contact with one of my kind at least once in their lives. And you could be on your way to becoming the next great Bard, I just give the inspiration I don't plan out the career." The Muse Gnome sat down suddenly. "Ah so full."
He scratched the back of his head reflectively before giving a well proportioned belch. Flushing slightly, Iorwerth quietly excused himself while likewise pushing his bowl away from him. "Well with your belly full does this mean you will be unable to travel for a bit my good man or should we soon be parting sad but dear company from the wonderful Ben?"
Tick laughed and then flinched placing a tiny hand on his belly. "I think a bit of rest is needed before going anywhere, I'm fit to burst." The Gnome sighed in a way that said he was content. "Perhaps you could regale us with a story or a ballad, something simple and relaxing if you know any."
((sorry for the wait besides my stepdad my computer became embattled with a virus that almost won))
"How fortunate then that we have been graced with this time and beautiful scenery for story-telling!" Iowerth declared excitedly, practically bouncing in his seat at the opportunity. "I hope I do not disappoint. A relaxing one you say hmm..." He stared up at the sky with his hand rubbing his chin in thought before his features lit up with pleasure.
"Ah yes I believe I know just the one!" Iowerth cleared his throat and licked his lips, sitting up all the straighter before launching into his tale. It was the tale of a mother and daughter and their wandering milkcow that always managed to find itself missing and in a spot of trouble. It was a silly story and a short one but given the heavy meal, the man had felt a light story would be best.
Tick chuckled at the story and the old man smiled. The Gnome looked up at the Bard. "That was a fine little story. I think I may have heard a similar one a few years ago but it involved a little lamb who wound up on the roof of a school house."
The old man nodded. "Sounds likely to me. Used to tell my granddaughter a story about a goat that always had an adventure when it went out of the barn. These are the good tales perfect for a quiet afternoon after a good meal."
Iorwerth chuckled at such notions while shaking his head. "Perhaps you gentlemen would be willing to share your own versions of such tales? I have found over the many years that each new rendition of a story is just as thrilling as the last no matter how the story goes. I would be honored to learn of new ones if you are willing."
The old man let out a long breath. "Lessee. The story starts with the usual. Once upon a time..." The story went on about a little white lamb who followed butterflies into the woods and was cornered by a pack of hungry wild dogs. her owners had to come to her rescue, using their wits to convince the dogs that a tastier sheep was waiting on the other side of a raging river. The story ended with the wild dogs being swept down the river.
Iorwerth winced at the story's conclusion. "Poor dogs. I certainly would not want to be in their place at the end of the day. Can you imagine how hard it would be to get all that river-mud out of their fur?" He shuddered in displeasure, shaking his head as if to drive the very thought away.
"A wonderful story nevertheless my good friend. Thank you very much for sharing. A tale is truly the greatest gift any man, woman, or child could ever grant me," the man continued with a sincere smile. "Between the two of you I think I barely repay the favors. Excellent food and good stories, it certainly doesn't get any better than this now does it?"
The Gnome and the man laughed. "A gift is best repayed with a gift to another. " They both chorused.
Tick gave the bard a sideways look. "All you have to do to repay us is help someone else. Muse Gnome philosophy is that the best gifts are those that are paid forward. If everyone did their best to help just one other person it will eventually make the whole world a better place. That's why Muse Gnomes are part of the broken shackle movement. Slavery is pretty bad, though some slave owners are very nice people who treat their slaves with kindness but most are bad people who abuse them or take advantage of them." The Gnome had a very serious expression on his face.
"Have you perhaps heard of the bard Svaterna? She was a slave but bought her freedom by singing stories to her masters children at night. The children loved her stories so much they begged their parents to free her so she could travel the world and learn more stories. Even though she didn't have to return to them she did every few months with a new story. She paid the favor forward too by buying the freedom of other slaves and teaching them skills to survive on their own."
The man shook his head with a smile. "Nay I had not heard of her but she sounds like yet another wonderful person. It is my firm belief that story-telling is one of the greatest arts of them all. For her not only to endeavor to expand upon her gift but to bring it back home as well as share it with the world only shows her great wisdom.
"What you say though my little friend is quite true though," Iorwerth commented with a nod of his head in Tick's direction. "A kindness paid, is a kindness earned and while it may not be today or even tomorrow, that kindness will come back when it's needed most. It is a shame though there are people in this world who are not so accepting and open minded though," he added quietly, thinking of his own home country where he would be persecuted if they ever knew of his magical gift, nevermind the ridicule he had already endured as a nonhuman sentient being.
Tick nodded slowly. "Muse gnomes hardly dare to go to Connlaoth. The humans there, if they find us try to kill us and being stomped to death is the most common death for a Muse Gnome as people see us and sometimes their minds trick them into thinking we are rats." The Gnome shuddered. "I lost my elder brother to a Connlaoth soldier who stomped him into mash."
The old man placed a comforting hand on the gnomes back. "Tis a sad thing, but every Muse Gnome I have ever met has been the forgiving sort. and you are no different Master Tockin."
"My sincere condolences, Tick" Iorwerth murmured softly, his own gaze lowered. "While there are a great many good people in Connlaoth, there are always the bad apples that make it worse for the rest of us. My own eminence, herd as humans call us," he added with a nod towards the old man before continuing, "has been driven more and more off our lands with each passing year. They do not even know of our gift for if they did we would surely all be slaughtered. It is a shame that there are such places of knowledge and yet still they perceive different as dangerous."
He shrugged with a sigh, "but what can you do? Hope I suppose. Hope the good will weed out their own rotten cores."
Tick looked at the bard. "I know a young man, the one we were talking about who slaughtered all those people. He is consumed by rage but he is not a bad person. He is of Connlaoth he was raised by a master smith after his parents died trying to smuggle him out of the country. I have met him twice. The first time he was fighting a horde of necromantic creatures that had been brought to life by a foolish mage trying to make new life out of bones and metal. The second time he was healing a little girl who had been paralyzed after being run over by a cruel merchant and his heavy cart. Ragnr Fenris, mostly called Fen. He has the power to manipulate living flesh he can shape-shift and heal almost any wound. He can talk to animals, and he makes some of the finest swords in the world. He can even make charms that heal or give the wearer the ability to speak to animals themselves. He frees slaves, smuggles mages out of dangerous places, and hunts down bandits on the plains. He is truly a hero but he is hated by many for his bouts of rage. He told me he once slaughtered a whole village after the men of the village murdered a group of young women. When he came to his senses everyone was dead except the children. He is a strange case of a caring man who cares so much he loses his mind."
Iorwerth shifted uncomfortably in thought as if mulling over if he should comment or not. At last though his mind was made up and he did open his mouth to speak. "Perhaps he hasn't lost his mind after all. Isn't one man's villain someone else's hero? It is a matter of perspective. We all have someone to love, to fight for, to die and kill for even. When threatened, those of us who are capable often end up in unfortunate situations. I don't believe that makes them evil or monsters though." He shrugged tiredly. "But maybe I'm wrong. Happens after all."
The old man and the Gnome looked at the bard. "That is a wonderful perspective." The little gnome replied. "I think that's a very good way of seeing it. I am sure the young man in question would prefer that to the monster stories that many believe."
The old man nodded his head in agreement. "Here have some bread for later, I must get to work on tomorrows dough, or there won't be any for the coal burners tomorrow."
"Thank you," the man replied, ever grateful for the gift and accepting it eagerly. "We should probably be going ourselves to be honest. Shouldn't bother you any further sir, right Tick? I'm sure I speak for both of us though how much your kindness has meant after all our travels. It was good to rest hooves and feet. Speaking of which," Iorwerth muttered while trying to wiggle his way off the bench while still holding onto his covering. "I should definitely be getting back to normal, or rather as normal as one can get these days." He laughed to himself as he hobbled to become a proper centaur once more while not losing his sheet and blinding both men in the vicinity. "Remind me again Tick where did you say we should head off to next? Did we change our original decision?"
"I say head north, there is a village not too far, and they have a young woman who needs some inspiration for her weaving work. She's done well by me before, and she deserves the chance to make it big." The little Gnome snapped his fingers and was suddenly on a tree branch some feet away. "I say we be off!"
He pulled a cape out of his tiny, yet somehow massive, pouch. "Must stay warm you know?"
(sorry my muse for Tick is a little rusty....I will get into the flow again soon)
"The North we shall head!" Iorwerth declared as he finally managed to re-situate himself. A ripple went through his body from his human shoulders down his back and all the way across his withers to his tail as if the feeling of once more being back in his proper skin tickled him. "You can tell me more about her along the way my friend. But I agree off we should be. Was it not mid-morning when we arrived, and look already the sun is headed for it's lazy afternoon descent." He held out a hand to allow the little gnome carefully join him so that the journey would not be too taxing him and the pair could travel once more.