Over the River and Through the (Dol)Woods [S'Lon]

[Lichen]

5th Brightening of Imperos

Era II of the Celestine Mandate
Era XIV Post Fractum

It was, indeed, early as sin when the caravan gathered itself to leave. The darkening was still upon them, dark despite the bright light of the moon, and the noise of preparation was a soft shuffling sound barely audible beyond the bank itself. Two large wagons were being loaded with goods right outside it, great barrels of honey and sheafs of wool piled inside with great care and planning. There weren’t that many people there, a few portly folks who stood back and gave commands – the merchants, most likely – and then a few more people of various races and genders and sizes loading things into the cart.

”There you are!” The voice was unfortunately familiar, grating and distrustful as per usual. ”What are you doing standing here,” the old woman said to him, her voice quieter than normal, ”go and help load!”

OOC: This is a close thread for S'Lon and myself. If you can think of a good reason to be involved, please PM me and let me know.

[S'Lon]

It was early, most sensible people would doubtless still be in their beds snug against the chill of the darkening, but it seemed that a surprising number of people were in fact out and about. Somehow it often seemed to him that he was actually about more in the darkenings than he was in the brightenings, so it wasn't so strange.

The bank manager saw him before he saw her, distracted as he was by the goings on in the dark.

He smiled at her reproach, an attitude that she seemed unable or unwilling to change, even if the early hour and the dark seemed to hush everyone for sound travelled so much more clearly in the dark.

"On my way," he replied with a nod that did not hide his smile, and he made his way into the fray, applying muscle to help load the wagons, knowing that he hadn't the skill to know where and how to set the loads.

[Lichen]

Fortuntely, S’Lon didn’t have to know much in order to help out. A small, grumpy looking dwarf was sitting perched on top of one of the wagons, barking explicit directions in heavily accented Standard, blurred by lack of sleep or caffeine. ”You there!” he said, pointing imperiously at S’Lon, ”go, grab that bag there, pack it in the right on top o’ the barrels.” This was not the last order the dwarf snapped at S’Lon, but within the next twenty minutes everything was loaded and the two wagons began the slow crawl out of town, squeaking quietly on their axles.

”You,” the dwarf said, crooking his finger, ”yer the new guy, I tak't. Ms. Bertha was tellin’ me ‘bout you, says you’re a bowman, is that right? I’m Filius,” he offered a grubby hand, callused and a little sweaty, ”I’m in charge o’ keepin’ things tagether on this trip. Repairs and the like.” Filius was short even for a dwarf, with a well-rounded belly and incredible curly brown beard and head of hair. Even his eyebrows were curly, long enough to occasionally obscure his eyes if he didn’t tilt his chin just right. A shiny silver earing dangled from his right ear, clicking quietly against itself as he walked.

[S'Lon]

S'Lon stretched out the muscles that the loading had tightened and was rubbing abstractly at a slight graze on the side of his hand when the dwarf spoke to him with something other than merely an order.

"Filius," he replied taking the grip with a hand that was equally dirty and sweaty. "Yes, that would be me, S'Lon is the name."

He smiled at the dwarf, assuming that he was understating his role. "Bow is what I do yes, though I can use the long knives when I need to. I need more work on those mind, I'm not good enough with them to make me happy."

He took the chance to look more closely at the dwarf. "How would you like me to work on this trip?"