...With Tails Between Their Legs

With loot summarily gathered into ruck sacks, the scouting group mounted and disembarked on their way to the safety of their city. Having been disgracefully nullified by the clerics of Cyric, who had mirthfully fled to safety of their own camp, those of the Order hung their heads riding back north.

Blaine shook his head and took a long swig from his water skin, passing it off to Bulk.

"So...tactically...what'd we learn from all that?"

Although the question was asked of Bulk, Balen interrupts with a comment. "I was not through with those bastards." He adds, "It might make to our advantage to have mind protection available and flying mounts."

He thinks about what he had just said for a moment. "Perhaps some training with flying mounts as well."

"Aye, that'd help." Blaine replied, staring ahead and absently. "We should probably consider scouting ahead before we charge next time. We are a scouting party...I'm just saying." He turned about in his saddle to view the others, seeking their input.

Still kinda stunned by what just happened Amero chirps in, "Yeah some scouting ahead would be the much smarter move, that was one of the reasons I was sent out to help y'all. But for now let's put some space between us and them, there are after all more of them than there are us."

Amero keeps his eyes forward instinctively keeping an eye out for any movement.

"Scouting?" Balen asks as they continue their trek home. "I thought that was what I was doing. I halted the party and let Sir Vangerhuge know of what we were approaching." Balen reaches into a small gray bag that hangs off of his belt and pulls something from it. "Or do you mean something a bit more careful than keeping one's eyes open for trouble?"

Balen tosses the object from his hand to the ground and a [[rolls 52]] rat pops into existence and follows Balen at his beckoning. Balen chuckles as he awaits a response.

"Yeah, Balen--and up until that point I'm on the same scroll as you. But, I mean, look at us. Look at what happened back there. We come upon a group of infidels, we see them first. From there on out, the scouting ended, y'know? We've gotta slow down a bit, think it over. Gather some information on these guys, sneak around their camp and figure out what they can bring to bare in battle. We scouted to a point--we just need to remember to wait until we've finished the job before we move on to further issues like battle."

He pauses a moment, digging tiny bits of grass and gravel from the contours of his cloak seam.

"If we do that, if we can figure out exactly what we're up against before the chaos begins, then we can present our full gamet of talents against the enemy. We need to do that, because we are not a direct assault company. If we are, then I'm in the wrong outfit."

He shakes out the bits undone from his meddling fingers, having prised them from their holds.

"Maybe I should invest in a suit of plated armor, eh?"

"No no no. We are on the same scroll my friend." Balen ponders Blaine's last statement. "I mean, we can all sit in a tin can and swing a war hammer, but that does little to utilize our individual skills."

The young man measures his distance, at a glace, from Bulk and lowers his voice. "Perhaps the hairy one knows not where our talents lie. He strikes me as a bit single minded and a tad dim."

Balen urges his horse forward to keep pace with Blaine's after falling a bit behind in quiet mirth. "Blaine. I have been meaning to ask. Why the difference in speech? Were you performing some kind of charade?"

Deadpannedly, Blaine replies, "I don't know what you're talking about." He waits a moment, just a beat or two of hoof clops on the dry, rutted road. Just as Balen is about to retort, he cuts him off with a chuckle and a wry grin.

"Yeah, I wasn't sure about you lot. So, I played my hand close and bluffed that I was a very, very bombastic kind of fellow." He shrugs and turns his eyes back ahead. "Honestly, I wondered why nobody mentioned it sooner."

Ignoring the part of the conversation about Blaine's accent, because frankly he didn't care Amero interjects the question "Who exactly decided rushing into an unknown group was a good idea? Scouting is after all considered advanced recon. So what happened to the recon part? I'll admit while everyone else was resting I guess I could've gone and checked them out, but I kinda assumed that's what we were going to do after everyone had rested up just in case we happened into trouble."

Amero noticing Balen glancing towards Bulk a few seconds before while he was talking to Blaine, simply draws his own conclusion as to who's in charge. After that he sits quietly on his horse wondering exactly what kind of scouting party he's been assigned to.

Checking to see if the three scouts are still far enough removed from the others to continue speaking freely, albeit quietly, "Here's the deal--we're in charge of scouting. Sir Vanderhuge is in charge of the group, for sure--the Order dictates it. But scouting is something he obviously doesn't understand or doesn't care to see through to its end. So, if we're gonna be doing it, we've gotta ensure that it gets done properly. Understand?"

"Yeah, yeah." Amero responds rather half-heartedly sinking a little lower into his saddle. I've had leaders like this before, he thinks to himself, "about as strategic as a pissed-off badger". Realizing he had whispered that out loud, he glanced about the group to see if anyone else notice.

"Agreed." Balen exclaims after Amero's half-hearted response.

"I think it best if we..." Balen stops abruptly and turns to Amero. "Did you just say..." Balen pauses and thinks for a moment before grinning and continuing on with his original thought.

"I think it best if we push the issue of scouting first with our leader. He may do things differently, but it is all of our necks at risk. I like to know what challenges we face before we take up arms against it."