Alliria - Outskirts
Thren sat quietly on the edge of a cart, his heavy armor resting on his shoulders, the two daggers he carried settled into place on the small of his back. Half a dozen men and women scrambled all around him, some of them loading crates, others busying themselves with one task or another.
The Barbarian watched all of them quietly, eating an apple and waiting for everyone to be finished with their tasks.
After the recent Naga attack and reports of bandits people, especially merchants, had become more than a little paranoid. It was a fortuitous thing for people like him. Every Caravan, every ship, and every traveler now hired a Sell-Sword to travel alongside them.
That was of course why he was here now.
A local Merchant was sending some of his goods to Vel Anir over land, traveling just above the Falwood and below the Steppe.
Thren had never particularly liked the Falwood. Dense forest and Trees made him paranoid about ambushes, but the Merchant paid well and he was one of four mercenaries that had been hired. He figured the paranoia was worth a bag of gold, and at the very least he would get a chance to get more work in Vel Anir.
The crazy nobles there always had someone to kill.
A yawn passed his lips as he leaned back, the caravan workers loading the last of the supplies onto the carts as he finished his apple. It was time to go.
Thren sat quietly on the edge of a cart, his heavy armor resting on his shoulders, the two daggers he carried settled into place on the small of his back. Half a dozen men and women scrambled all around him, some of them loading crates, others busying themselves with one task or another.
The Barbarian watched all of them quietly, eating an apple and waiting for everyone to be finished with their tasks.
After the recent Naga attack and reports of bandits people, especially merchants, had become more than a little paranoid. It was a fortuitous thing for people like him. Every Caravan, every ship, and every traveler now hired a Sell-Sword to travel alongside them.
That was of course why he was here now.
A local Merchant was sending some of his goods to Vel Anir over land, traveling just above the Falwood and below the Steppe.
Thren had never particularly liked the Falwood. Dense forest and Trees made him paranoid about ambushes, but the Merchant paid well and he was one of four mercenaries that had been hired. He figured the paranoia was worth a bag of gold, and at the very least he would get a chance to get more work in Vel Anir.
The crazy nobles there always had someone to kill.
A yawn passed his lips as he leaned back, the caravan workers loading the last of the supplies onto the carts as he finished his apple. It was time to go.