The Caravan

Happily dancing out of the camp with a sack packed to the brim with pointy swords and other ouchy looking things, Majvoc thought it was best to leave the companions to fend for themselves. He was busy, he had things to do. People to do, privates to see. That was the phrase, right?

Well, it didn't really matter anyway as Majvoc soon found himself down from the slope of the Hoff and onto the long and winding road that led to the next city. And promptly coming down that road was a slowly shuffling wagon dragged along by a tired looking horse.

As it got closer, Majvoc could make out the details more clearly. It was a large, enclosed caravan with lanterns dangling from the sides. They cast their soft light in a protective shell from the dark. The roof of the caravan was made of colourful canvas, propped up in the centre by a pole. It was like a tent on wheels.

'Hail,' said Majvoc, flagging down the caravan and trying not to drop his looted items at the same time.

The caravan slowed from its painfully slow pace to an even slower grinding halt as it pulled up beside Majvoc on the side of the road. On the top of the caravan, holding the reigns of three horses, was a squat man. Or it could have been a dwarf, Majvoc supposed. He had a red piqued cap of the of the Vǫlsungr Merchants, a powerful clan of traders that had de facto control over Trenø, a city-state nestled in the crook of land where the mountains met the sea.

'Traveller,' murmured the suspicious driver, 'What can I do for you?'

'I don't suppose you would be able to take us to Trenø?'

'Us?' grunted the driver.

Behind Majvoc came a bundling of characters. Balar, Tiella, Luna and the newcomer Dyvia all crashed into a pile as they fled the chasing bandits that were crashing down the hill.

'Us,' said Majvoc with a pained smile, 'Why is it now us?'

'It won't be cheap,' said the driver, eying the approaching bandits, with Sigrid at the spearpoint. Then his eyes drifted down to the bag of valuables at Majvoc's feet. 'How about you give me that bag and I see what I can make from it when we get back to Trenø?'

'How about half?' said Majvoc.

'This is not the time to be bargaining, thief,' said Balar, and the bear of a man grabbed the sack and hauled it onto the seat next to the driver. Majvoc tried to protest but was silened by Tiella, who equally had had enough of Majvoc's antics.

'We'll be in Trenø the evening of the day after next. Oh, and try not wake my passenger. They won't be happy you did.'

The companions bundled into the back of the caravan and the driver cracked the reigns, sending the horses flying in a gallop.

<OOC- Who is our new passenger? Do the bandits try to chase us and catch us?'