Tylkin
"Good morning to you, I trust you all slept well?"
Troi nods, yawning. "Yeah, we slept well."
He adjusts his whip slightly, then does a quick check of his arsenal - his rapier on his left hip; his shortsword on his right; his whip on his belt; his longbow on his back; and his quiver, hanging next to his rapier.
"I think we're ready ta go when you are, Tylkin." He says.
...a wagon with a single mule harnessed to it, stacked high with bolts of cloth tied into bundles and protected from the road dust with canvas wrapping, and then with a tarp thrown over the whole affair to secure it.
"Hrm..." Troi takes a look at the wagon, rubbing his left shoulder absent-mindedly as he does so. "Here's what I'm thinkin'... when we get ta th' forest, Tylkin, some a us're gonna hop up on th' wagon, prolly under th' tarp. If we get ambushed - an' I'm not sayin' we will - then we'll have a bit a an element a surprise, y'know? Don't worry, we won't steal anythin' or whatnot, but better safe'n sorry."
He looks to the others. "I'm takin' point. Don't want anybody messin' up any tracks't might be around. Pick a spot that ya think ya'll have yer best... uh... effectiveness at. An' don't ferget ta keep in sight a th' others - if we hafta make a quick get-away, don't wanna hafta leave anybody behind."
He looks to the road ahead. When he speaks again, his voice is softer, and devoid of his accent once more. "The journey of a thousand miles begins beneath your feet..." He then looks to the others again. "Well, we should be gettin' started... this job ain't gonna get itself done, y'know? Oh! Hey, I just remembered... I got all the cash." He smiles. "Let's split it up now... if I fall, ya'll don't want ta lose yer money, eh?" He pulls out the pouch that held the money they'd received thus far, and divvies it out equally.