At the sight of Karrlandren's feeble attempt at appearing lighthearted, Elandris nearly smiled, himself. He and the Knight had more in common, perhaps, than he had previously assumed. "The life of a merchant is a difficult one," he observed. "Cheat, or be cheated."<br/>He did not concern himself with questioning the nature of the Knight's purchases; a man who carried the obvious mark as a veteran of many campaigns was aware of the necessities of light, efficient travel. Karrlandren's inclusion of his mount and a packhorse were somewhat contrary to Elandris' own preferred means of readiness, but he allowed that a man accustomed to fighting in heavy mail was not going to be quite so sprightly in any event, and his sword arm would undoubtedly be useful in the likely event of an Orc encounter.<br/><br/>Elandris turned and surveyed the forest, its grim, arboreal eaves beckoning with dark, clawed branches. "Time is wasting. We should reach the river by sundown tonight."<br/>He took one last glance at Billian's Rest, before nodding to the Knight and starting off down the road towards the forest. Whatever lay within would not be, he assured himself, anything that he and the Knight together could not survive intact. It may have been folly, but the attitude of supreme confidence had served him will in the past, and he was unwilling to abandon them at a moment when they seemed so necessary.