From the promontory above the trail:<br/>Azula, Wild Heart and Fortune scan the trail below as the caravan passes slowly beneath the three. To the West and just around the bend of the cliffside out of sight the voices of Kiko, Bobo, and a reluctant and pained woman's voice had only just recently faded from earshot. The others had taken residence within the woods below to hem in the caravan. The wagons were first rate and newer, the oxen healthy and strong. Docile as they were the drovers had little skill to spread between them, so confused and agitated oxen pulled in the traces at a plodding pace, still, they were making better than carrying speed for what was travelling. The brute who had been described earlier was no longer riding in the back of one of the wagons, he now paced evenly beside the oxen, one hand in the traces, guiding the beast this way. Over his shoulder, the massive pillar of white marble now rested, the iconography shining in golden scripting, one end tapered as he casually draped his unattended hand over the grip.<br/><br/>From the woods below:<br/>Canticle crouched in the brush, the thought of silence measured in her stillness. The lowing of oxen, the creak of wagon, traces, and sometimes even stone-on-stone can be heard. From the bushes, the top of the carts and the massive giant of a man with the plinth of marble could be seen. Kedo and T'yara looked on with more interest than the others, numbers were what they were told to be, dash between the trees, throw rocks and keep at a distance. Stir the pot, aggravate and agitate and run, stay out of direct conflict.<br/><br/>The plan was to cripple the front wagon and the last wagon to close the path east or west. Allow the heavy hitters to come out and be isolated, then confronted.