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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Dursk Starkfire" data-source="post: 698213" data-attributes="member: 7561">THE CREW:Seeming that Silverymoon was an incredible distance away, and obliged to fulfill a debt to Perrens for saving his dignity, Ishmael agreed to venture with the spice caravans of Jonrad as an extra-hand in the security detail. The final destination was slotted for Arabel, a small town south of Tilverton, that had become a refuge from the recent Goblin Wars. It wasn't Silverymoon, but it was forging the path. In retrospect, it was Ishmael's first ever job, and the pay was rather promising to a near broke gypsy.The caravan began in the early crisp of morning, a small crew managing three horse-drawn wagons packed with exotic spices. The fore-wagon would be lead by Jonrad, escorting his son Rael on his first run of the family business. A brute of a man, Keegan, would helm the horses of the second cart, with Ishmael and Arwyn manning the flanks. And, the final wagon, would be managed by Jonrad's right-hand man, Perrens.The journey to Ordulin was rather uneventful, and allowed Ishmael to better acquaint himself with the company that Jonrad had hired. Keegan was a barrel of a man, short on words, and short on temper, but he had many years of experience escorting caravans on the dangerous paths throughout the Dales. His eye for perfection and his stature allowed him to quickly gain the respect of the crew, for his high demands were not as much to stroke his gentle ego, as much as they were to ensure survival on the road. His voice was gruff, and his words short, but to the point. Ishmael quickly found that conversing with Keegan would result only in discovering the tasks for the day. The township of Ordulin was in reality nothing more than a depressed farmhouse converted into a tavern to house travellers and their mounts. It was agreed that the stop would be brief, with Jonrad making some quick business transactions and Keegan meeting an acquaintance at the Leaning Mount. ------------------------------------------------"Pick a card", Ishmael playfully fans a deck of cards for Arwyn to try her fate at chance. "What is this, some game gypsy? I'm not going to regret this, am I?""Of course not. It is believed that my people have the ability to see into the future through the cards of fate. These are but ordinary cards, the only pain you'll have to suffer is my company." Ishmael lets out a convincing grin that eases her concerns. "The Queen of Spades. Well, lets, lets try something different... Maybe I can read your palm?", he quickly pulls her hand free from her scabbard as a shock of light bursts through his mind. Images of horses running free through the green meadows of the Beastlands pulls Ishmael from reality. And overseeing them is Arwyn, as if she were orchestrating their movements with the flowing movement of her arms. It was a majestical sight, the color of the fields were greener than Ishmael had ever seen. An ease flowed over him as the image flashed away and darkness consumed him."Ishmael?" Arwyn grips his shoulders and looks him in the eyes. "What is up with you? First you offer to tell me my fortune and then you billow off into some unholy slumber. Strange indeed.""I apologize. Perhaps I shall rest before we head off to Highmoon."</blockquote>

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