When: 9:44 Summary: Guarding a merchant's shipment to South Reach is usually eventful, but what happens when it brings clashing personalities face to face in conflict?
Rating: T for violence (just to be safe)
Completed
It was early morning when the group of mercenaries gathered at the gates leading out of Denerim. The shipment was loaded into a sturdy wagon with a pair of Oxen harnessed to the front. The driver, an older gentleman with a grizzled face and bushy grey beard was standing near the animals, running a hand over the smooth flank of one as he talked to a Dwarf, most likely the merchant who was selling the weapons. Imenry spared a glance into the back of the wagon, spying boxes piled atop one another, bound down with thick ropes. A canvas was pulled tight over the top and fastened into place, probably to conceal the contents from prying eyes.
Others were gathered around, muttering about the clouded sky, the grey forboding masses rolling in and promising another wet Ferelden day. Likely the wagon would get stuck in the mud more than once along the journey, but hard weather didn't bother Imenry. She'd been through more than her share of icy showers and soggy winter storms. It was spring now, so even in the rain it wouldn't get terribly cold. Her eyes scanned the small party, and there was a face or two she had seen before, but many she hadn't.
Tall with a shorn head and a scar over his left eye was Barial, a man with a drinking habit that kept him from holding down a regular job. She'd run across him once before in a tavern, where he'd drunkenly propositioned her (failing) and sobbed out his sorry life story face-down on the bar top before she'd made her escape. She'd be sure to avoid him.
Imenry circled the wagon, eyeing it's sturdy new wheels, the two replacements strapped atop it. At least they were prepared. The journey to South Reach would take at least a week by foot, barring any delays be it by attack or due to weather. It was a winding path, and had recently been plagued by bandits, clearly seeing it as an opportune area to strike merchants. It was the only road leading from Denerim to South Reach, and beyond towards Redcliffe. As these places weren't accessible by water, this was the only choice. Mercenary guards for the shipments were the best solution. She vaguely hoped that the frequent attacks was true and not a mere rumor passed by frightened merchants. She was looking forward to a good fight.
She shifted her pack off her back, leaving the sword there slung horizontally. It's weight was a comfort to her, and despite it's large size she could wield it well. It was a part of her now. She double checked her supplies, rations and water. They'd have to make camp and hunt on the way no doubt, but she was well prepared as she preferred to be.