The Caravan
A Halloween Mini-RP
Day 3, Morning - @Sombrero
The bookshelves were composed of a wide variety of books, small, large, new-looking and some that looked like they should have by rights fallen to ashes decades ago. Most of the titles were not in the common tongue, typically having the apperance of books written in Arcanic, the language of magic, by authors ranging from unknown mages to the well known Jarjestys Magi order.
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Day 3, Morning - All Characters
Regina tapped her fingers on the table, staring at the door with a small frown and weary eyes. The caravan master himself stood by the door with crossed arms, gazing over the group before walking to the chest near the door and pulling out a blanket and a few pillows, which he then arranged on and around Ivan before returning to his position by the door.
A few moments passed before a loud banging knock sounded, to which Regina flinched ever so slightly. The caravan master turned to open it, revealing a small, diverse crowd of figures.
"Caught by the storm too, eh? Come'n in, come'n in..." he waved the figures in as he stepped aside.
The first was a young man in common clothes, looking soaked despite the porch's enchantments, a few years older than Ivan. He walked over to the chest and shook the mat of hair on his head around. "Can't be more rainy..." he muttered as he fruitlessly brushed at his clothes. He looked around. "Hmm. Company?"
Regina nodded as the next figure came in. The next was an older man in a reddish brown, rune-covered cloak, plainly a magic user of some sort. Should Skylar have looked at this newcomer's left arm, he would see a rune familiar from the cultists in the south. The third man was bulky and barely fit through the doorway, scantly clothed and with every appearance of an uncivilized barbarian, almost shoving his way past the second arrival as he plopped down on the stool near the door groaning as he massaged his legs. His age was difficult to tell, considering the majority of his body mass was hair. The fourth and final arrival was different altogether, with every appearance of a highwayman, sporting dark clothes and two long swords on his back. "That'll be all," He said in a British accent to the caravan master, who closed the door and went to the right hand corner.
"Shall we?" He asked to Regina as he climbed up the ladder to upstairs. Regina, shaking slightly and using the table for support, followed slowly.
