Valka
We rode west for three days without stop. Voss is crawling with guards, the walls holding unflattering portraits of us with bounty prices that seemed to double with each passing day. Ten thousand gold coins for a tip off, and double that price for leading the enforcers straight to us.
As such, we couldn't afford to stay at an inn, for the sake of ambiguity. But it got better on the third day. Lucien's ruse must have worked because the Silvermoor patrols were drawn east, leaving us with a mostly clear path east.
I hated having what few friends I have facing the line of fire on my behalf, but I could do nothing on that account but hope they were alright. The plan, after all, was to get close enough to be seen, far enough not to get caught in the pursuit.
We'd split the trail to aid in their confusion and rode around in circles until we lost them.
