On the way

The longboat inched forward as the crew pulled hard on the oars, fighting against the current as it moved up the mountain river.

Brian was at the oars, stripped to the waist as he strained against the oars, the physical exertion combined with his elven blood to keep him warm even in this frigid conditions, as snow drifted down from the sky. He was of about average height, but lean and muscular with scars that cris-crossed his torso. He had a strong jaw and bright blue eyes and was usually considered quite handsome, but at the moment he would look a lot better after a full night's sleep and a shave. He was twenty-two but his elf heritage made him look a few years younger.

At the front of the boat, Skargar was consulting a map and shaking his head.

"We're going too slow," Brian heard him mutter before he turned back to the rest of the crew.

"If we put our back into it lads we'll be there by sunset tomorrow!" His bellowing voice carried even over the crash of the oars against the water.

A collective groan rose from the crew at the thought of another day of rowing. Shargar grinned.

"Ah it's not all bad, I'll get the first round when we reach the next village."

The man next to Brian on the oars shook his head.

"Don't listen to him, he never pays."

What the man's real name was nobody in the crew knew, perhaps not even the man himself. To them, he was Fourteen. He had told them that as a child he had been **** to work as a shepherd to a rich man's flock of sheep, the previous thirteen having been killed by the wolves that harassed the sheep. Not confident enough in the child's survival to bother learning his name, the rich man had named him Fourteen and the name had stuck. He was a thin man from Phebis, quick to anger but also quick to laugh. His longbow and arrows lay at the back of the boat with the other weapons and his almost unnatural skills with the weapon was talked about in whispers by the rest of the crew.

"Maybe I can help...motivate?" said a soft feminine voice from behind Brian.