"Ah, a bit of rain never hurt anyone, my friend." A calm voice came from behind the merchant from within the caravan itself. Moments later, the blue scaled head of a dragonborn poked out from behind the merchant and began looking upwards at the sky ready to pour down rain on them. "I mean, I could do without it right now, but it never hurt anyone other than a little cold."

Torinn looked at the sky only for a few moments before turning his sight away from it and straight ahead at the forests ahead of him. So far, nothing had dared to attack them, perhaps thinking the caravan either not worth the hassle, what with it having so many defenders and all. "If anything, we should probably worry about anything dangerous that might assail us, like a pack of wolves or a goblin raiding party." The dragonborn said, now actively scanning the forests ahead of them, trying to scout for any enemies that might be hidden away.

"Say, I know you've done this route a lot of times, Carron, but since it's my first time serving as your bodyguard here, what is our final destination, if you wouldn't mind me asking?"

Atanase Malkoth sat idly as he watched outside the rolling wagon. The hunter pondered if his demise was going to be by the hands of some horrid monster, or to succumb to the deathly droll of boredom. His light crossbow sat across, his lap, eager to release death upon some unlucky beast or bandit. Scanning both the woods to the left, and the woods to the right. He would search his mind for any tales of supernatural sightings Before whispering to what seems himself. "Well Zandra, know of any history of creatures in this area?"

The Tabaxi known as "The Jester" was sitting inside the rear Caravan with her long time friend. As always, she was dressed in head to toe in the usual garb of the harlequin. From the mask affixed to her face, to the purple and black garb she was dressed in. And for most of those unfamiliar of her... she had never once removed it. Her legs was kicked up onto a crate while she was laid back on the ground of the wagon. Her foot bobbing as she hummed a small tune to herself.

But eventually, the tune cut off as she glanced to her elven companion. "What say you Elaran, when a blind man crosses trots the road. He knows the route, but not what's around em?"

The half-elf Elran, amateur entertainer and accidental paladin, shifted uncomfortably on his seat. All his armor and weaponry had been crammed in a bag that was currently pressed against his side, jostling against him every time they hit a bump in the road. Not paying attention to the darkening weather or the crazy mutterings of the man he knew basically nothing about that shared his wagon, Elran busied himself fiddlling with the lute lying across his lap, now and again giving it an experimental strum before grimacing and returning back to his tuning of the instrument.

"It's Elran. El-ran. Not El-ah-ran." He responded in rote monotone, reciting a conversation he was all too accustomed to having every single time they stopped someplace new along the road. It was as though people saw his slightly pointed ears and found the need to jam as many extra vowels into his name as possible to fit to their notion of how elven names were supposed to sound. Shaking his head as he came out of his personal reverie, he finally looked up from his intrument. "I'm sorry, that was rude, it's just-"

Realizing who had been addressing him, he gave an exasperated sigh yet grinned nonetheless- the reaction of one who realizes he's being made mock of but doesn't hold it against the instigator. After all, his companion had probably been there half the time he had found himself correcting some passing villager or shopkeep and likely knew exactly how he felt on the matter. "So, uhh, what were you saying? I'm afraid I wasn't really paying attention. Something about a blind man and a road?"

When it comes to finding work, Cayden hadn't ever had the luxury of it. He had also certainly never been a guard. He'd picked some things up, though, over the course of his life, and, well, now it was going to pay off. Hopefully.

The halfling glanced up at the dragonborn he had seated himself next to. Thorin was his name? Whatever his name was, the dragonborn was tall. Frighteningly so. And Cayden had no idea on how to react to him. Instead, he just shrank away, hiding himself in the shadows of the carriage.


As the rain began to pour down, Cayden lifted his hood, and then reached beneath the collar of his shirt to grasp at his amulet. A simple iron pendant, a shield with a cornucopia etched into its surface. A familiar warmth radiated from Yondalla's emblem, and he took a deep breath in. Before he let go, however, something small nipped at his knuckles. Cayden let out a small, quiet laugh, before nuzzling the mouse's head with his thumb.

"You'll get your food soon, Pepper, don't worry."

Seeing that there was nothing interesting outside and his merchant friend, Carron either chose not disclose any information and ingnored him, or he simply had not heard Torinn speak. Eitherway, he pulled his head in the back of the wagon and turned towards the other person who had climbed in the wagon with him to start a conversation while they continued their travels.

However, much to his confusion, there wasn't anyone there as he looked. For a moment, he briefly turned his once more towards the man that had hired him to ask him where the other fellow in the carriage had vanished.

"Hey, Carron wasn't there..."



However, as he looked around the carriage a bit more closely, Torinn could not help but see a small shape in the back of the wagon, probably having tried to hide in the corner from him. He didn't entirely blame whoever was hiding from him, it was part of Torinn's job description to be intimidating.

"...nevermind."

Stretching his long hand, the dragonborn placed a hand on the cowering halfling, sporting a reassuring smile in his face in order to draw him out of his hiding place.

"My friend, no need to hide from me, I only look this scary."

When Thorinn put his hand on Cayden’s shoulder, there was an audible squeak. One that was most definitely not a mouse. Cayden met the dragon’s gaze. The halfling was shaking like a leaf, but he managed to get out a small smile.

“I - I’m sure you aren’t, I just... I don’t know you, you don’t know me, and I’m not really that good around new people. Especially when they’re scaly giants that can breathe lightning. I’m not even four feet tall, you know. And I usually keep to myself.”