April had been an adventurer for almost two days now, and she was sick of it. Her feet hurt, her legs hurt, her back hurt, her whole body was one giant ball of pain. The maddening bit was that Maron had told her this was going to happen. He’d gone over, in detail, all the misery that being on the road entailed. She had though he was kidding.

A descending whistle from the advance scout alerted the party that a suitable campsite had been found, and there was a ragged cheer from the marchers. Any semblance of order disintegrated as the more energetic adventurers charged ahead, leaving April and her cohorts to trudge grumpily onwards.