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Arcanis: Gonnes, Sons, and Treasure Runs (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 3578149" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Grains of Sand - Part 2: Caravan Duty</strong></p><p></p><p>The predawn air was crisp as they find their way to the eastern gate of Manteii, where the caravan was forming up for travel. A dozen or so large wagons, drawn by four draft horses each, were laden with sacks of “grain.”</p><p></p><p>Vlad had switched to studded leather instead of his usual plate, a concession to the brutal heat of the Forsaken Wastes. “They look nervous,” he said.</p><p></p><p>In sharp contrast to the smiling faces they saw elsewhere in Manteii, the men and women of the caravan appeared grim.</p><p></p><p>“Certainly understandable,” said Beldin. Most of the caravan members wore some sort of makeshift armor and many carried weapons. All of their equipment looked as if it’d been in an attic for decades.</p><p></p><p>A balding, pale-faced man wearing worn leather walked down the row of wagons, tossing fresh handfuls of grain into the back of each one. </p><p></p><p>”What are you doing?” asked Ilmarė. </p><p></p><p>“Masks the smell of sawdust,” said Varus, the caravan master. He dusted his hand off before offering it to Quintus to shake. “I hope this plan of Master Gratian’s works. I’ve seen what those hobgoblins can do to a man when they have a mind to, and I wouldn’t want to see what happens if they figure out they’ve been tricked.”</p><p></p><p>Quintus offered little comfort. His eyes were scanning past him. “You’ll be fine,” he said. “Where’s Kham?”</p><p></p><p>A swaying figure answered Quintus’ question. “Oh, hi guysh,” said Kham. </p><p></p><p>“Kham,” said Quintus, “are you ready to go?”</p><p></p><p>“Ready for what?” asked Kham. He looked around in confusion. </p><p></p><p>“You didn’t get my note? I left it at the inn.” </p><p></p><p>Beldin slapped his forehead. “Drunk again.”</p><p></p><p>“The Bounty of Shaluwe?” asked Kham. “Oh, I haven’t been back there shince yeshterday. The grain wine they’ve got here ish the besht!”</p><p></p><p>“Figures,” said Ilmarė. “We’ve got an extra horse for you, but I suppose you won’t be needing it.”</p><p></p><p>Kham drunkenly waved off the sentiment, gesturing in the wrong direction. “Oh, no, no, no. I’m fine. Here, shee? I can ride a horshe…” He stumbled up onto the mount. After the third try, he managed to drape himself over the saddle.</p><p></p><p>Varus tried to not look at Kham, but ended up staring at him the entire time he conversed with Quintus. “I’ll give you a signal when we start getting near the area where we were ambushed the last time. I’ll take my hat off and fan myself with it; how does that sound?”</p><p></p><p>Quintus nodded. “That will do. We’ll stay back far enough so we shouldn’t be easily spotted, but close enough to keep you in view.”</p><p></p><p>“I sure hope this works,” said Varus. He looked away from Kham.</p><p></p><p>Kham looked up from his saddle, his bloodshot eyes concealed by his lenses. “Don’t worry, we’re professhionalsh.” Then he sank back into unconsciousness as the caravan left the safety of Manteii.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 3578149, member: 3285"] [b]Grains of Sand - Part 2: Caravan Duty[/b] The predawn air was crisp as they find their way to the eastern gate of Manteii, where the caravan was forming up for travel. A dozen or so large wagons, drawn by four draft horses each, were laden with sacks of “grain.” Vlad had switched to studded leather instead of his usual plate, a concession to the brutal heat of the Forsaken Wastes. “They look nervous,” he said. In sharp contrast to the smiling faces they saw elsewhere in Manteii, the men and women of the caravan appeared grim. “Certainly understandable,” said Beldin. Most of the caravan members wore some sort of makeshift armor and many carried weapons. All of their equipment looked as if it’d been in an attic for decades. A balding, pale-faced man wearing worn leather walked down the row of wagons, tossing fresh handfuls of grain into the back of each one. ”What are you doing?” asked Ilmarė. “Masks the smell of sawdust,” said Varus, the caravan master. He dusted his hand off before offering it to Quintus to shake. “I hope this plan of Master Gratian’s works. I’ve seen what those hobgoblins can do to a man when they have a mind to, and I wouldn’t want to see what happens if they figure out they’ve been tricked.” Quintus offered little comfort. His eyes were scanning past him. “You’ll be fine,” he said. “Where’s Kham?” A swaying figure answered Quintus’ question. “Oh, hi guysh,” said Kham. “Kham,” said Quintus, “are you ready to go?” “Ready for what?” asked Kham. He looked around in confusion. “You didn’t get my note? I left it at the inn.” Beldin slapped his forehead. “Drunk again.” “The Bounty of Shaluwe?” asked Kham. “Oh, I haven’t been back there shince yeshterday. The grain wine they’ve got here ish the besht!” “Figures,” said Ilmarė. “We’ve got an extra horse for you, but I suppose you won’t be needing it.” Kham drunkenly waved off the sentiment, gesturing in the wrong direction. “Oh, no, no, no. I’m fine. Here, shee? I can ride a horshe…” He stumbled up onto the mount. After the third try, he managed to drape himself over the saddle. Varus tried to not look at Kham, but ended up staring at him the entire time he conversed with Quintus. “I’ll give you a signal when we start getting near the area where we were ambushed the last time. I’ll take my hat off and fan myself with it; how does that sound?” Quintus nodded. “That will do. We’ll stay back far enough so we shouldn’t be easily spotted, but close enough to keep you in view.” “I sure hope this works,” said Varus. He looked away from Kham. Kham looked up from his saddle, his bloodshot eyes concealed by his lenses. “Don’t worry, we’re professhionalsh.” Then he sank back into unconsciousness as the caravan left the safety of Manteii. [/QUOTE]
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