| Quarion Holimion, Elven Druid 3
Quarion looks hesitantly at the creaking carriage. "Someday I will have no use for such contraptions... but today is not that day." He sits down, clearly uncomfortable. "Will you accept our services as protectors of your goods as payment for the ride, sir human?"
As the cart moves out into the wilderness, Quarion whistles sharply every few minutes. After a short while, a patch of gray fur can be seen every now and then, darting among the undergrowth of the forest alongside the road, trailing the passage of the cart. | 
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