The Sound of Metal

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The Sound of Metal

Harvest caravans are plentiful during autumn, as are bandits who like to attack the caravan and make off with the supplies. Your party of misfits happened to be the closest to the door and, in need of some coin, or perhaps an adventure, or maybe you signed up just for the hell of it. Either way, you all signed on to guard the wagons of grain and produce as they make their way from Otem in the eastern marches of Zentomar to the port of Grunwald. Along the way, you are to defend the caravan from bandits, wild beasts, and lend a hand in repairs, if needed.

The caravans have left Otem and are on their way to Grunwald, passing numerous farms and small villages. A few days later you have reached the end of the farms and tonight will reach a forest where they will camp for the night.

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Bakro was riding on a wagon, fiddling with his guitar. He had not played it yet, he wanted his performance to be perfect, not a single mistake. He plucked one of the strings and listened. Perfect. He smiled and put it away. He climbed to the front and nodded to the driver. "How much farther today?"

"We be goin just to that forest over yonder today." The man pointed to a forest off about an hour away. "We'll make camp there. It the halfway mark."

"Thanks. I'll walk a bit. I want to stretch my legs." Bakro said as he jumped down from the wagon full of grain. As he walked along the caravan he looked forward to that nights, when he'd make his debut.

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Davion decided to dress in his unarmed attire for the journey, he had a odd feeling he would'nt need to be armed to the teeth for some reason. He kept his equipment close by though in the second to last wagon just in case. The journey was strange for Davion, mainly because he was not use to the humid air of the sub-tropical Zetomar. His lungs felt alive instead of the usual dry shriveled up felling the desert gave them. During the journey a large behind women caught Davion's attention and he had been attempting to woo her in the last wagon filled with furs.

After succesfully taking her, Davion jumped down from the wagon and hoped in the back of his mind she didn't have some sort of diesease. While walking (with Komu) Davion began watching the trees for any sign of movement. When he was content he walked alittle distance past the wagon with his equipment in it and he overheard a seemingly stupid man tell a dwarf about the resting point. That didn't really catch his attention though, the dwarf with a rather odd looking instrument caught it. In the dwarf's hand was a stone something .....maybe a lute but it didnt sound like a lute. Davion sped up to the dwarf in a rather excited voice, "Hello there i'm Davion" pausing for a second "I was wondering what that was in you hand, if you don't mind me asking" . Davion could'nt stop thinking how much gold he would get for it on the market.

[Lorryn]

8th Oreania, AoS 4010
Eastern Marches, Zetomar


Lorryn shifted in the saddle and leaned back some, stretching and trying to get her mid back to crack as she pressed a hand to her lower back, Driscoll’s reins in the other hand as a clear, beautiful note rang in the air somewhere ahead. By the third time doing this, one would think it would get easier, but this time there had been barely any adjustment time as whatever was effecting them made her sprout a small belly just the night before when they’d had their fun in the furs and if she didn’t know better, she felt her stomach pushing up against the pommel more and more as the day dragged on. She’d be riding side saddle come morning. There was no doubt she was again with child, but now it was clear it wasn’t simply the two of them being really fertile. Whether anyone else in the caravan, besides her lover, had noticed yet the overnight change in her figure remained to be seen.

Across her chest, bundled in one of the two supple soft leather slings she’d acquired in Trandantum was Signe, sleeping soundly for the time being as she basically rested atop her mother’s progressively swelling belly and newest sibling. Her older sister, Traisa, Lorryn had passed off to Jericho for a time as her back had begun to bother her. Again she thanked Ishana for finding the mage that enchanted it for the way it made the babe feel one-quarter it’s weight made it a great deal easier to bear.

In the wagon behind her, she heard odd sounds and after a moment realized what they meant. After a small chuckle, she looked over at Jericho. “Maybe we should have tried a wagon this once?” Lorryn smiled then, her tone joking but her eyes not. Already it felt as though she was getting to that one troublesome point where her appetite increased, and not for food, not that Jericho ever seemed to mind. Signe whimpered then in her sleep, a little fist popping up into view before it grabbed the fabric at her bosom and clamped on tightly, tugging it down some. Absently she rubbed the curve of the soft bundle and turned back to the procession.

A rather handsome man dashed past her horse shortly after, running up to the dwarf that walked along the wagon just ahead. She hadn’t meant to overhear them, but couldn’t stop herself either. “That was you, sir?” she called to the dwarf, curious as the note had a tone to it completely foreign to her.

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Jericho had never before in his life, which was, by all accounts, full and industrious in all things unheard of and unseen, been the victim of having to tote a small child along on a caravan destined for disaster; that time he had taken the mageling girl from Res-Khan, through the Forest of Eire, and all the way to Contobur with the help of Minerva having been the exception. Well, hardly an exception really when the child had been the precious cargo. Having to carry Traisa, however, in some sort of silly ass girly sling, cradled across his chest while he sat atop of Vakr with his weapons ready, scanning for ambush…well that was just silly. Stupid. Retarded. He supposed that was the price he paid for “setting his roots down”.

”A wagon.”[/color] Jericho said, somewhat annoyed at the thought, simply because he had Traisa slung across his chest and knew that in the event of an ambush he was fucked. ”Well. I don’t suppose it’s a bad idea. Perhaps someday we’ll invest in some of these more homely matters.”[/color]

He was unsure what else to say. He was a warrior, and, by his measure, Lorryn was too. It didn’t make much sense for them to be gallivanting around on a hired job with their kids in tow…but that was exactly what they were doing. He could hardly believe himself.

He watched the verbal exchange between the Dwarf, the under dressed fellow, and Lorryn as it began, and his brow furrowed. What had been him? Had he missed something. Content for the moment that they weren’t in imminent danger of being attacked, he sat back in the saddle and listened to the conversation unfurl, barely conscious at the moment of Traisa as she squirmed and mewled before adjusting herself back into some more comfortable position…

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Catching herself in the midst of nearly snoring, the small drow snorted lightly, startling herself awake. Her muscles shivered under the skin as she stretched and yawned. Seated next to the dwarf in the wagon with haversack seated next to her, Haeldor tried to get more comfortable. Though the fact that even now she felt her formerly comfortable vest growing tight and had to adjust it made her feel a bit self-conscious. Deft fingers carefully adjusted the strappings currently holding her growing chest and waist a bit too much. Her body was still changing without her say-so. Not that she had much say the last time either…in her expanding form. Luckily, her cloak covered her head and the conspicuously loosened laces. Cursed draconic seed. She mentally grumbled. Sniffing lightly and yawning again, she glanced to the familiar small body pressed to her side. Soscena was more than a little eager to ride inside of a wagon. It certainly beat traveling on foot. As an added bonus, the cloaked child could also get in a nap.

Something her mother was trying to fight off to the best of her ability. She was just so tired these days, her body constantly trying to get her to stop and rest.


Looking around as a means to wake herself a little, the small woman spied a sight that forced her to suppress a smirk. Riding near the wagon and on his steed sat Jericho next to a smaller woman on horseback. Haeldor assumed they were life mates, but so far had not been given ample opportunity to ask. Seeing him carry the infant was a definite sign though. And… he did look sort of lost with the lerg strapped to his chest. It almost looked out of place…a man that huge with children so small in comparison. Her enhanced hearing enabled her to not only hear the amorous romping in one of the wagons behind them, but also part of the conversation of Jericho and the other woman.

Lorryn…that had been her name. Rubbing her eyes a little, the drow fought off another yawn with a pointed grimace. Hearing a small beating of wings, she lifted her head. Pale brows arching over ice blues, the amused drow watched Ssussun return to his spot in the wagon, a mouse in one claw. Once out of the air, he proceeded to eat the furry rodent. The sounds of flesh on flesh continued behind her and glancing to the dwarf she shared the wagon with, Haeldor listened intently as he tested notes on the stringed instrument he held. “Not bad.” She murmured. With ears like hers, she would have complained if she had to be subjected to off tuned playing for the entirety of the trip. She heard a grunt behind them, a rustle of clothing and heard a voice speak to the dwarf beside her.

For the trip, the drow had to put a lot of her tightly held reservations about being around others aside. There was a promise of payment for protecting this caravan. Or at least that’s what her exhaustion drugged mind had heard.