The cartwheels and axle delivered the jab of every rock on the road to Baobao's behind. Till now, the roads had remained civilized, paved with cobblestone or at least tamped smooth by thousands of pairs of feet or hooves. Now, she swallowed to calm a pellet of nausea in her gut and tried to catch her lips in the little bronze mirror. The cart went over a wart of Woki-Tal, and she dodged as her arm jerked upward and stabbed the lipstick into the air, catching Amada looking out of the corner of her eye.
"What? Interested?"
The Rider barely managed to hide a laugh, pressing her lips together to hold in a snort. She had, clearly, been watching Baobao fight with her make-up most of the way.
"No, apologies. Cosmetics tend to run in your eyes when you sweat, and in the sky you sweat quite a lot," Amada said. "But I certainly don't mind holding your mirror for you, if you wish." Baobao's eyes flicked from the vibrating lipstick to mirror, and it took only a few checks to convince her.
"I would like that."
The arrangement was probably worse than doing it herself. Unable to stabilize the mirror like a chicken, she kept losing sight of her lips, and felt a little bit of cartsickness forming in her stomach. She blinked hard and took a break to look at her neighbour.
"Do you think you're going to need to use your sword?"
She tried to look nonchalant, but gave away her nervousness with the way she looked up, her face blank as she was preoccupied with anxiety about the answer. Amada did her best to try and maintain a steady hold on the mirror as they rocked lazily over the road, and her eyes flickered up to Baobao as she asked her question. The Rider pursed her lips in thought.
"Most trips, no. It matters most not what road you take, but what travelers are in your company. A crew with a calm disposition is unlikely to anger other travelers or soldiers, as they follow orders and share the road," Amada answered. "A traveling party prone to disagreements and heated arguments inspires the ire of everyone around them, including their own, and violence happens often."
Perhaps picking up on the slight tremor in her hand as she tried to apply her lipstick, Amada reassured, "Sokkari and Mobeen are experienced travelers themselves, and handle disagreements well. We would surely need to meet true desperadoes on the road before I come to blows with anybody."
"Do you even know what we are here for?" she nearly hissed, meaning confusion but coming out more of an accusation. "I've just been told to keep the costs tightly accounted, but from the ledgers, we're stocked for a long journey!"
"I know a recipe for aker fassi if that interests you?" the merchant, Sareen, offered, always quick to find a bargain, even if he knew Baobao to be frugal in her expenses. Yet, by the very act of applying lipstick he could tell that the bookkeeper was someone who cared, which was always nice to capitalise on.
"It is very easy to use and travel friendly," he continued to supply, turning to Amada as well in case she was interested.
To the question what they were here for, Sareen remained guilty of an answer, having long since decided to just take whatever the journey brought him. With so many personalities on deck it was impossible to draw a plan anyway.
Arriving at the same rope bridge was Pyre; lured by the promise of a mud bath that was meant to take some years from him. And his smell as the few passerby's the vagabond had meant suggested. He had a possible answer for what the newly bounded travellers were here for, though it was mostly his own reason for being here.
"Where are you headed? Mind if I hitch a ride?" the man had boldly asked, not bothering to find whose permission he needed, or figuring out who to address. Instead he had already planted his hands onto the ride, seating himself in one swift move next to the rider.
"If we're passing the rope bridge it doesn't matter whether there is one more or less, right? I don't weigh much anyway!" the middle aged man said of himself, and despite being a little malnourished, for food was hard to come by on the road, Pyre was still a fully grown man of average sizes.
At least he didn't seem malicious, Sareen noted, though the smell and build-up of sweat in the stranger's clothes was harder to ignore. Amada's reaction to Pyre's sudden intrusion was immediate, a hand stealthily reaching for a dagger as he helped himself to a seat. She did calm, however, as it appeared he simply wished to mooch a ride to the bridge, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Honored Sir, we are a traveling band with the Explorer's Guild," Amada informed drily. "From my understanding — we do indeed plan to pass the bridge. Sareen, I believe I shall live without the cosmetics, though should we be meeting a dignitary, I shall certainly toss a coin in your direction."
Her eyes tracked back to Baobao, chewing on the question presented.
"You want to know why we are traveling? I believe it is to find… opportunity. Trade, partnerships, knowledge— all for the benefit of the Empire."
Baobao's defrosting character disappeared, melting into the cracks to leave behind frightened brickwork. She moved a bit closer to Amanda, trying to put the bulk of the warrior between the two of them even while she knew that it risked them all, by blocking her from unsheathing her sword.
"My pay is slim," she tersely informed Sareen. "It will have to wait until we get our bonus." If there is one.
While the light chatter flittered around him, Karim was content to listen quietly while reading his book. The doctor knew that times likely wouldn't be this peaceful once they crossed into Woki-Tal, so he wanted to take advantage of the calm while he still could.
Though, as the stranger Pyre invited themselves onto their wagon, Karim lifted his eyes from his novel. The person appeared well-traveled, worn, and dripping with sweat. Pyre seemed friendly enough, a man just looking out for himself. But Karim didn't think he was dangerous. Or, at least, he would rather believe he wasn't.
"You look tired, sir. Would you like some water?" Karim offered, extending his canteen towards the other.