They accepted the weapons and waved farewell to the blacksmith, setting out down the road to find a place to sleep in the middle of the night. The land sloped upwards to the highlands of Greihold's villages. The forests of the Turbulent March ended near refuge and a rough country of rocks, bushes and grasslands replaced it. Rhun’s angry, pounding footsteps didn’t last long, her gait slowed and her shoulders slumped. 

"Sorry I missed your fight." Bron said.

"Where did that come from?" she asked.

"Well, Guluss said it was a good one. I would have liked to have seen it."

"I fought with the man who held our only hope of getting a real life out here, and you are worried about the fight?"

"Yeah. I have been in a few scraps in my time. We should start sparring more. We probably should have in the forest, but I was almost always injured or too hungry."

"It's not a terrible idea, but isn't going to be much use until we get a job. How do you feel about going bandit?" she asked sarcastically.

He frowned. "I think you're joking, but I will not steal from others. I would rather be a hermit hunter in the woods over that."

"Hmm. You won't get any stories about you as a hermit. Didn't you want to make your mark in the world?"

He shook his head. "Not the kind of mark a bandit leaves. I would rather live in peace with the world if possible. But the god of Light would never let me hide away like that, with no deeds to my name. And we do not live in a peaceful era."

"What do kind of era is it, Bron?" she asked.

"A heroic era, of course. Of course, the term seems almost ironic. An age of heroes is the most dangerous time to be alive for the average person. Would be better to have strong laws and strong nations, but we will have to make do."

Rhun's night vision was much superior to his. She pointed out nearby buildings in the distance. They left the road to investigate. They weren't far from Refuge and they had already found their first burned out farmstead. The people inside had been given the decency of a burial, four graves marked the location. Nearby was an old open stable. It wasn't a very secure spot, but both of them were dead tired. Bron questioned its safety. Rhun told him she'd leave her Golem near the entrance, hopefully any intruders would trip on it. Bron thought it a joke, but she stretched the stones across the doorway.

Exhausted from a long day and a good chunk of the night, Rhun and Bron were asleep almost instantly. Normally they would have slept in shifts, but neither had the presence of mind for it. Morning brought a dreary day, drizzle rained on them through the worn-out roof. They gathered their food and weapons and set out again.

Bron was in good spirits and asked Rhun to slow her pace. After all, if the villages would not be much of a solution, why rush? Rhunal was impatient, but she went along with it. Bron asked again about her fight. She told him about Kyvril's fighting style, how his punches seemed unending, and it was difficult to make him miss. She had still evaded his blows enough to avoid serious damage. She told him about the end of the fight, where she deliberately took two hits to guarantee a haymaker of her own. She asked Bron what fighting experience he had.

He explained he was a noble's son, but preferred to hang out with the servant's children. This earned him the ire of the noble's children and created rivalries with the poorer children. Because of his size, he got drawn into fights with older children as big as him. His father being king's bodyguard made people more likely to target him for clout. He stated that he eventually became a competent fighter.

"Maybe you get to fight Kyvril next time then. See how you do with one arm," she said.

"You are spicy today. Perhaps I will show you sometime how well I do," he bragged.

"Why are you walking so slow? It's going to take us ages to get to the next village," complained the she-orc.

"Because I expect something good to happen soon, but I do not expect it to happen ahead of us."

"What? Is a grand quest going to drop out of the sky and into our laps?"

"I can't say, I've got a hunch, but nothing more right now."

Soon, they stumbled upon another homestead. More intact than the previous one, the one room dwelling had its door smashed in. The remains of violence were everywhere. No bodies remained, but a dark stain marred the floor near the kitchen. Smashed furniture was scattered across the floor. But before they could explore everything, hoof-beats resounded up the road. Rhun and Bron quickly darted to the door. Galloping down the road at a furious pace was Kyvril.

Rhun's hand was instinctively on her weapon, but Bron reached out to her with a big smile on his face. "I do not think he is here to exchange blows this time."