Lythe was greatly pleased and relieved to see the rejuvenating effect that food, water, medicine, and rest had on Rhocanth's demeanor. Those, and hope, and perhaps even their temporary company as well. What she had not been pleased by was how quickly the sky had begun to grow dark as they marched through the woods along the mountainside, following Nivak's uncanny sense of direction. She knew the merchants in Gherlen's Pass would not keep their goods out long after dark and Rhocanth needed a great many things to be prepared for the surface, starting with clothes. If the merchants had closed shop by the time they arrived... well, they'd deal with that if necessary. She and her troop had saved Rhocanth's life and so she considered them responsible for him, to a degree.
But here at last was the Pass, and they'd stepped from the trees onto the road proper, with campfires and torchlit stands visible not far off... and Rhocanth had apparently lost his marbles -- as in the actual ones he carried at his waist -- or at least was counting them to make sure he hadn't. Which was understandable. They were gemstones and he had to pay the merchants somehow. The Legionnaires didn't have a single copper bit between them to offer.
So Lythe stood beside the rock Rhocanth sat upon, holding up a freshly-concocted firebomb (as the soldiers all now carried, thanks to Daermal) to give the boy light. Her troop all clustered nearby, armor clanking as they shifted and turns of their heads revealed longing glances at the campfires across the way. They were walking around in full plate, after all, and their padded undergear was not made to insulate them against frozen surface temperatures. Their breath, and Lythe's, puffed from the slits in their helmets in warm steamclouds.
"Guth." She looked towards the man, identifiable in his plate by his bulk alone. "Go make sure the clothing vendor keeps his merchandise out while Rhocanth counts his barter -- if you can find one."
"Throwing my old name around probably won't work anymore," he reminded her idly.
"No," Lythe agreed, "But your weight still will."
"Aye, sodding might!" Guthor chortled appreciatively, turning and starting away.
Trusting her big medic to get the job done, she looked back down at Rhocanth. "We can give you one of our packs, waterskins, some supplies and rations," she suddenly decided and offered. "Save you some coin. We can replenish our supplies when we go back down through the city to the Deep Roads."