Small lights could be seen through the tall hemlocks, the driver knocked the carriage three times and whipped the lashes one last time. As the carriage finally rounded the last bend, the last beams of light faded from the sun, all was dark save for the torch light of the small settlement’s walls. Two guards stood guard, both clad in leather armor, slick with rain water, the older more experience stood with his arms crossed in an intimidating posture, the younger rubbed his arms furiously for warmth. They both picked up their swords and approach the carriage, the older said, "Sate your business and your cargo."
The driver simply held out a pouch, heavy with coin, and said, "Just point me to the nearest Inn." His brisk Tenor voice sounded although it was eastern, but the guards didn't care, they just got three days pay in seconds.
"Three buildings down on yer left," the guard said, shoving the coin pouch under his breastplate, "It's a slow night, Anneth will be happy to have ye."
"Thanki Sai." the Driver whipped the reigns again and the carriage lurched forward, heading for the steeple. He opened a small hatch behind him, "Anyone thirsty?"
A slightly merrier voice called out, "So long as it's Ale and not that piss water from the last place, I'm happy."
The driver smiled, "Stop complaining, at lest we were well rested."
Another voice, this one deeper, older, said "They kep me up all night."
"Keep yer weapons sheathed," a third voice said, "We ain't lookin for a fight unless they want one."
As the Carriage stopped, the back opened up and a small set of stairs fell to the dusty ground, First walked out red haired Wood Elf by the name of E'lar; Though he was the second oldest of the party at 86, looked and acted as if he was still 24. The second out was Willhem Dawsland, his dark brown beard was groomed neatly as always, but he kept a small area around his Scar bare. Next was another human of southern decent, Murahn, his fierce golden eyes scanned the room, finding nothing of interest, he puffed at the pipe in his mouth and blew smoke from his nose. The last out was Gruan, a Mountain Dwarf, his knotted blond hair hung in braids to keep out of his eyes, the chops of his beard were braided similarly, but were not grown around his mouth. Last to dismount the carriage was the Driver, Huan Lu Bana, he pulled back his hood to reveal the scars left behind after an encounter with a Were-Jackal, the Easterner's blond hair was cut short, as was his goatee.
"E'lar, pay the stable master, we'll see you inside." said Willhem, "The usual three gold."
"C'mon, let shorty back there do it this time," the Elf said mockingly.
The retaliation was quick, the Dwarf pulled on E'lar's pony-tail, "Don't call me 'shorty'," pulling a small Ax from behind his back, "Else you'll be a wee bet shorter tomorra."
"Let him go Gruan," Huan said.
He did just that, letting the Elf go to his business. The songs from the tavern could be heard outside the Inn, as rain pelted against their armor, Willhem said, "Remember what I said. Don't start anything." In the back of his mind however, he thought 'Easier said than done.'
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