The Trade Caravan

[Rue]

Rue nodded as she looked around the caravan.

"I've never seen something quite like this before, it's amazing!"

She walked over to a table laden with jewlery of all different sorts, some with styles like those back home, but most unlike anything she'd ever seen before. She turned back to face Chaz.

"Looking for anything specific here?" she inquired. She'd heard of the wondrous inventions of the town blacksmith but had never seen them up close, and she was curious as to what he planned to create next.

[Ursine]

Gathering what meager belongings she wasn't wearing, that is to say her spear and nothing else, Ursine looks about the expansive, and rather shabby, set up of the caravan from the back of one of the wagons, she sighs through her nose. "Wistvale at last," she mumbles under breath, a few stray hairs wafting lazily in the breeze. She pops her hat on her head and pulls her scarf over her mouth. Raising her free hand lazily, she brings up a crude staircase of earth, each step descending to the ground as her foot left it.

"Thinking of leaving without paying, Miss?" a voice reminiscent of stones being gargled calls from behind her, and Ursine hunched her shoulders, screwing up her face in dismay. "You may have that fancy magic, but don't think of running from me."

She turns around to see a stout, bald man, with a hairy paunch hanging over his belt, out of the crude wolf's-hide vest he wore. "Yeeeeees," she says, elongating, voice dry and just barely rasping, "payment." Truth be told, she'd spent her last gold piece on a hot meal in the last town, rather than endure nothing but beans and trail biscuits for an entire month. "About that..."

"Spent it, didn't you?" the vaguely greasy merchant said, eyes roaming.

"I did," she says, head inclining apologetically, "yes. You obviously didn't get where you are today without being a good judge of character. Which," she says, faux puzzlement creeping into her voice, "really does not explain what I'm about to do."

"Whu-?" is all he manages before a large dirt clod slams into his chest, sending him to the ground without really harming him. He looks up in time to see a scrap of green and white scarf vanish around a large stall. "Guards!" he shouts, clambering to his feet. "Get that b****!" Then, under his breath, to himself, "I knew she'd be trouble."

[Margrett]

The man looked at Orp thoughtfully.

I'm in need of some...financial contacts in the area. You see, in the east we do not have this thing you call...Jingleberries?

-----------------

The singers faltered a moment, but he could pick up some fluctuations as they smiled at one another in pleasant surprise and kept going, ever stronger. The song was children's tune, a rather naughty one at that, full of bodily functions and slapstick comedy and rather graphic violence if all were told. Apparently a man traded his mother for a cow and one or the other was butchered; it got complicated from there, with the chorus repeated with an extra stanza added each time to reflect the continuing story. The audience clapped along, some of them pointing at him and laughing in surprise at the lute player, obviously small children. The sound neared its end and Dom could feel confident he'd learned the final chorus well enough.

------------------

Margrett nodded cheerfully, looking around.

Well, shouldn't be too hard. Hell, could probably find a solid gold teapot if you looked hard enough. Probably an antique or junk seller around here--

She was cut off by the call for a guard and the flash of green that sped by. Being the only guard in the area, she smiled and pulled down her hat, saluting at the two women.

Duty calls. I'll check up on you later. And the key, remind me about the key.

She nodded again and took off after the girl running away, trying to track her down through the crowd of people.

[Ursine]

Spear now hanging from a leather thong, draped over her shoulder, point down, Ursine sprints towards what seems to be the vague center of the massive bazaar. She melds into the middle of a crowd, standing before a man, traipsing about on his wagon, extolling the virtues of the newest tonic he'd cooked up.

"It can cure the greatest of ills!" he booms, walking the makeshift tightrope of the side of his wagon, balancing and reversing direction without the slightest falter. "Aching joints, thinning hair, amassing weight, and hellacious halitosis!" he shouts.

I'm sure he just made up those last two words, Ursine muses, blowing a stray wisp of hair out of her face. Eyes falling upon her, the man thrusts a hand out, the one not holding the green glass bottle, towards me. "Miss Ursine!" he booms. "This, ladies and gentlemen, is a woman that's been travelling with the caravan for some time." All eyes fall on her, despite her best effort to shrink into he clothes and disappear. Prodding hands force her towards the front, against her straining leg muscles.

Reaching the front, finally, the man pulls her up to the side of the wagon. "Aleron," she growls, meeting his eyes over a hand clamped onto her shoulder. "Now is most definitely not the time."

A worried look washes over his face, and his hand tightens momentarily on her shoulder. "Ancestors," he sighs, looking over the crowd and further out, into the roiling sea of bodies and faces. "What did you get yourself into this time?"

She reaches up, pulls the scarf down and tucks it below her chin. "Didn't pay him."

He sighs once more, heavier. Stepping down into the bed of the wagon, he looks out to the crowd once more, and puts his best schuckster's smile on - and it was pretty damned good. "I am sorry, good men and women, but my friend here needs some assistance only I can offer. If you return in an hour, I should be all sorted." Grumbles come off the crowd, but they disperse, albeit slowly, without any fuss. Grabbing Ursine around the knees, Aleron picks her up with a practiced motion, and sets her down in front of him.

She clears her throat, and smooths the dark green fabric of her doublet over her stomach. "You know we can't be that close anymore," she says, reciting rather than meaning the words.

"I know," he says, sadness creeping into his eyes. "Let's go deal with him, huh?"

"Yeah," she mumbles, stepping down carefully, without any theatrics. "Yeah." Walking a ways in the direction Ursine had come from, she snaps her fingers. "I think someone followed me, and I didn't recognize them as one of his guards."

"You don't say," he mutters, as a cadre of heavily armed guards stomp to a halt before them. "Did you notice these men, as well?"

"Well..." she trails off, then shakes her head, mute.

[Kiko]

Kiko spun in time to catch the flash of a body. She gave a short wave as Margrett took off, too.

Sure. I'll remind you.

Kiko accepted duty without so much as a change in her step. She glanced down at Kat, the girl had been inordinately quiet, though Kiko had not been very talkative herself, so perhaps she was just taking in the sights.

I've a mind to wander through the clothing tents, Kat.

She caught an odd whiff then. A smell that did not belong in this caravan, or this close to town, and most especially not near dozens of defenseless people. Her eyes flashed from pale amber to an vivid gold. No, that smell belonged to a pack of werewolves inside a horseshoe shaped stand of trees buried in the gloom of a swamp.

[Margrett]

Following the girl and watching her talk with the man in the wagon, she saw the guards coming up to them after a moment. When they'd stopped, she approached and cleared her throat.

Gentlemen. While I appreciate your enthusiasm, I'll relieve you for now. This town is my jurisdiction.

She smiled confidently, tilting her head up, daring them to say anything.

Any disputes are settled by me. If you have a problem with that, well...that's also a dispute that gets settled by me. Do I make myself clear?

[Orp Boon]

"Don't have jingleberries?! How do you survive!? Your lands must be rife with constipation."

Orp rapped on the counter.

"I have just what you need, my friend. I happen to own a large share of the local jingleberry crops. If you were to offer something juicy in return I'll consider selling them to you."

[Ursine]

After several shared glances and a few muttered words, an exceptionally large man steps forward. Closer inspection of his face would reveal a radically upturned nose and a pair of jutting canines. Tiny tusks, marking him as a half orc. "No can do, local," he says in a gruff, guttural voice somewhat garbled by the jutting canines. "Jagang wants the little lady there in his tent to deal with her personally." He pulls a wickedly curved blade a few inches free of its scabbard and places an easy, practiced hand on the hilt and the five guards with him follow suit, readying their weapon of choice. "You can let the little derelict come with us, or we can crush you. It's all up to you."

[Margrett]

Margrett lowers her head a little, her hat covering her eyes. Her hammer is on her back, but she makes no move to grab it, putting her hands out to her sides as if moving to grab something at her belt.

Now now, I can't be sure she'd get a fair shake. The crime was committed on my turf. I'm sure we can work something out. All we have to do is settle this like rational, civilized folks.

She smirked.

Or you can rush the unarmed blue girl. Think about it; would she be standing here smiling if she wasn't absolutely sure she could wring your necks with her bare hands? 'Cause I'd carefully consider it.

--------------------------

The man smiled wryly.

I am prepared to offer an array of foreign goods in a steady flow along the normal trade routes. We'll work out the details later. But there is a...small problem.

[Orp Boon]

Orp smiled. Small problems were usually easily fixed with a little lubricating money. And an investment in a deal like this would pay itself off quickly.

"All right, I'll bite. What is the problem?"

[Zaedus]

Kiko had smelled correctly. The scent was strong in the clearing not far from the caravan, and the all too familiar scent of a particular sanguine fluid also accompanied the foul scent of the werewolf.

Had there been an attack? Was someone dead or dying? Had they followed her and Grayell back to Wistvale? All was unsure at the moment.

[Liseth]

Liseth watched the two of them turn away, feeling a little scorned. Immediately, her bemused curiosity turned to aggresive scorn. She leaned forward on her table, eyes shifting a little and smirk spreading across her face.

Always willing to help an old man and his thrall.

She rolled her eyes and made a small shocked gesture.

Oh, I'm sorry. I meant "granddaughter." My mistake.

[Renquist]

Renquist turns, but he does not drop the illusion for one moment. His hand was in Lily's but his voice now hissed with warning.

Yes. I am most fond of her. I... had a dog I was fond of once. A mutt. I had to put it down because it simply did not know it's place. It put it's nose in everything. A stupid, clumsy mongrel. But I don't miss that dog.

And I know who's patch this is. Perhaps you should leave, as I am.

He said nothing else and simply led Lily away from Liseth and toward town.

[Lily]

Lily followed her Cavalier. Well, follow was not the correct term. She mirrored his motions exactly; her body, hand, and mind tucked up against him. She did not know exactly how they got to the mass of merchant tents and she did not know where they were going. The stage was not important.

On the other hand... Lily's thoughts halted right then.

Yes.

His hand.

Lily shivered inside. Touch. His touch held her enthralled.

[Ursine]

A deep rumbling vibrates the half-orc's chest, and his left hand rises to rub at the thick stubble on his jaw. After a moment, he slams the blade home in its scabbard with a disgusted sound. "Fine," he growls. "When you're done with her," he continues, hiking a thumb over his shoulder at a tent rising above the general height of the rest, with elegant-looking embroidery on it, "I'd appreciate it if you could see to it she makes her way to that big tent." Then, under his breath, "I'd rather keep the skin on my bones."