The elven courtesan pursed her ebony stained lips. Trapped between a feral child with clear bloodlust issues and a mentally deficient, obviously inebriated, ultra-loyal retainer she found herself devoid of any real choices. It looked like she was going to have to help this orc and hope that whoever it was that she needed to help was appreciative of her aid.
While the orc, who apparently was named Malcan, interacted with Umbra Assallya grasped the brass pole down the side of her carriage and carefully shimmied down to the forest floor from her perch atop the vardo wagon. Malcan, she thought to herself as she made her way to the back of the wagon, another interesting name, derived from the word "malcontent" obviously. That also did not bode well. She quietly pulled out a key the size of her hand and turned it in the lock and slid the bolt. Entering she quickly gathered the books she needed off of the shelf and pulled a canvas satchel bag from a peg by the door and shoved them in.
"I am ready," she said, descending the small steps at the back of the wagon, "Wherefore is this person that needs aid?"
While the orc, who apparently was named Malcan, interacted with Umbra Assallya grasped the brass pole down the side of her carriage and carefully shimmied down to the forest floor from her perch atop the vardo wagon. Malcan, she thought to herself as she made her way to the back of the wagon, another interesting name, derived from the word "malcontent" obviously. That also did not bode well. She quietly pulled out a key the size of her hand and turned it in the lock and slid the bolt. Entering she quickly gathered the books she needed off of the shelf and pulled a canvas satchel bag from a peg by the door and shoved them in.
"I am ready," she said, descending the small steps at the back of the wagon, "Wherefore is this person that needs aid?"