Kenneth
Kiervan Czerich, Drygrass Steppes.

They were all tired. Czerich had insisted to go trough the lush forests of north as quickly as possible. Even once they reached the drygrass steppes, he insisted to put as much distance between them and Azarya.

When Lias had asked the reason behind it, all that Czerich answered was: "Here be hides."

Thankfully, the strange machineries that Lias had attached to the carriage meant that the horses could be pushed to their limit for longer than might've normally been expected.

Encamping in the middle of the steppes wasn't ideal, but the group turned out be lucky enough to not get raided. 
It was autumn. No black banners flew over the villages. But the threat of bandits remained ever present.

They ate their meals at dawn, and continued the journey with haste. The region was dangerous, and there was no time to lose. But there was a lot of time to kill.

Czerich soon discovered that this second day of travel would be just as boring as the first one. He spent the better part of an hour sitting on the back of the carriage next to the kid, while Lias held the reins.
Eventually, he broke the silence with a question. A question that was directed at both Giallo and Lei, as well as himself.

"If you had the chance to know anything, what would it be?"
Eleanor
Giallo Strizzare
Drygrass Steppes

Young Giallo considered this question for a few moments, looking casually about as he mulled it over. He'd then answer Czerich, softly saying, "I want to know what everyone is thinking. Making choices would be easier then."
Giallo had been in high spirits ever since he'd had the chance to ride in the carriage, but he'd become withdrawn and observant once they'd begun traversing the steppe. He seemed to be uncomfortable in these new surroundings. 
He'd mentioned that he was a sneakthief orphan from Iron Gate, so until recently he'd probably been used to having the shade of buildings and walls for cover. Indeed, Giallo felt vulnerable without a convenient alley or treeline around.
Elizabeth
Lei Linas
Drygrass Steppes

Lei looked over his shoulder from the front seat to peer into the door window frame that led into the carriage. He could easily see the two other gentlemen seated comfortably inside. That question was an easy answer for Lei although he was surprised by Giallo's reply. That was far from what he would expect a child to say. He reminded himself to stop thinking of him as just a naive boy as it was clearly not the case. 

"I want to know how to make an efficient flying machine. That would make travelling so much easier." He looked forward again as he allowed the horses to follow the trail.
Kenneth
Kiervan Czerich
Drygrass Steppes

"It is said in Azarya that the Melsh is a land of superstition and chickanery. But it is also filled with other things.

Old things. Things older than Azarya, older than the shifters, older than mankind. Faeries, spirits of the marshes, and many more.

I believe that all myths contain a grain of truth, and that therefore, an abundance of myths in a region is the sign of a great truth waiting to be discovered. At least if one manages to navigate the lies, that is."

Czerich paused.

"What will you be looking for once we get there?"
Michael
Wisdom Serafina 
Chapel, Castle Grunewald, Vallen

As the sound of the bards voice bounced off the walls, Serafina smiled and let her eyes open slowly to the unfortunate display of a pig in front of her. The Wisdom would never publicly disrespect a religion, but in her eyes, the Hog God faith was the largest farce across Marin. She didn't consider it a true religion - one might call it the Shitblood equivalent. Serafina stood, the dark green silk hugging her body on top before flowing to the floor gracefully, as she turned to look at the bard. 

"Is excessive drinking a hobby of yours? For inspiration sake?"
Eleanor
Giallo Strizzare
Drygrass Steppes

Giallo's brief answer to Czerich was, "My fortune, sir."
In his head however he started to ponder what he'd do once he had wealth. He'd climb on things with impunity, get a warm bed in a home that never grew cold in the winter, he'd eat whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted...

And despite these very rational desires, he also realized he'd become bored rather fast with such a life. He stared out at the horizon and wondered what kind of a life he would truly enjoy.
Kenneth
Kiervan Czerich, drygrass steppes

'My fortune', what a poetic way to dodge the question. The kid was clever, maybe too clever for his own good.
Yes, there was a fortune to seek in the Melsh. Czerich was heading there for the same reason. But he had an agenda. A trail to follow. A trail that would no doubt be made out of rumors.

And he didn't need to get to the Melsh to start gathering info. A good lead could come from anywhere. Especially from a kid like Giallo.

"Say kid, do you know any horror stories?"
Eleanor
Giallo Strizzare
Drygrass Steppes

The lad folded his arms, frowning ever so slightly.
"I never learned to read, and nobody's ever told me any tales before."
Kenneth
Kiervan Czerich, drygrass steppes

"It is a terrible thing not knowing how to read."

The answer had caught him by surprise. Most of the Azaryan population was litterate, and he had taken for granted it would be the same.

"You know, I used to tutor my siblings, albeit in other things. The point is, I have a lot of patience, and we have a lot of time."

He pulled a paper and a quill from his pouch.

"I can teach you if you want. No one can learn in a day, but even the smallest step will prove to be useful. Here take this."

He handled Giallo the quill and the paper, then pulled out a tiny bottle of ink.

"Can you write your name?"
Eleanor
Giallo Strizzare
Drygrass Steppes

He accepted the implements, examining the quill as if he'd never held one before. He'd then clench it in his fist like a knife as he shook his head 'no' in response to the question. He didn't even know how to hold it.
Kenneth
"Easy."

Czerich guided the boy's hand.

"Pin it down. Three fingers. What you need is not strength, but precision."

He held the quill in his hand to show Giallo how it was done.

"A teacher of mine once said that names are powerful things. That they're who we are in truest sense of the word. Learn to write your name Giallo Strazziore, but more importantly, don't ever let yourself forget it.
This is a universal truth, it's not Kiervan Czerich telling you this."

And so, under the cold sun of the steppes, the three men and their carriage kept moving forward. It would be a while until they reached, the swamps. But they were men of fortune, and they had come to the bogs to make it.

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[TIMESKIP —BOGS OF TAEMAR]
Shelly
Charity Lane
Castle Grunewald, Vallen, Taemar

Charity was no stranger to political marriages, having been in one herself. She'd attended the ceremony moreso because she felt she had to rather than actually having any sort of stake in it. Throughout the wedding she focused less and less on the events happening before her, lest she be reminded of her time married to Vronti Kelwynd, the 'Fishfucker' as some have accurately called him. Charity didn't remain at the festivities long, but it was in the halls that she found another leaving as well.

The South Feyshore Queen also apparently didn't want to stick around and it made Charity worry if it was her injuries getting worse because Anya kept making appearances despite it. Approaching the Grand Duchess, she started talking, "We haven't seen much of each other this entire council, but now since everything seems to be settled, we've got several months of catching up to do."
Katherine
Anyanka Durkhan
Castle Grunewald, Vallen, Taemar

She had only just left the ballroom when Angelica tapped her shoulder. "I'm going to go find my husband, make he's finished with preparations for the trip home tomorrow." 

Anya gave a nod, waving her chancellor off and heading up to her own room. Before she got to her assigned room though, a familiar voice spoke behind her. Turning, she smiled to the Terresolian queen. "Charity." Her voice sounded full of relief, and she felt her shoulders drop as the tension left a bit. 

"It's good to see you. This council had been a shitshow." She breathed. "Your room or mine?"
Kathleen
Viola Godwin
The bogs apparently named after the lizard from Monsters inc

The dark of the Taemar bogs made Viola feel weary. The whining of the cool wind droned into the soft cries of a *Bean-nidhe* And the darkness made her unfairly unaware of where she was stepping, making a pit form at the bottom of her stomach.

"Nice enough, we were mostly by ourselves - bar a few neighbouring houses." She told him, mostly hoping he wouldn't recognise her from anywhere."I don't think I learned your name, apologies."