Adventurer Party

Rackshar's journey was far more comfortable sitting next to the driver of one of the supply wagons. The air was cleaner, the company less depressing and he had a chance to eat, which he hadn't done in quite some time.

Eraldu rode next to the wagon, making small talk when he could, but he quickly came to realize that Rackshar was not a talkative person. He would answer questions directly and then return to silence.

Unfazed by this abruptness, Eraldu assumed that Rackshar was still dealing with the deaths of his teammates. Knowing what it's like to lose friends Eraldu was trying to keep Rackshar from brooding over his loss as much as possible. Eraldu was anything but a subtle person. Even so, he hoped his crude efforts would help in some small way.

Rackshar, for his part, was annoyed and confused by this human's pestering. He already had to make up a story, something rather unnatural for him, and now this chattering human was picking at the threads of his deceit. Asking question like "Where are you from", "How did you become a worthy?", "What merchant do you work for?", etc.

Although he was playing it off the best he could from what he remembered when Kaleb was in the Bazaar, Rackshar was realizing that if he actually went to the Bazaar with these people his story would fall apart rather quickly. They wouldn't even have to dig too deeply to discover his deception. After all, it may come to light with the guards at the gate recognizing Kaleb's body. Also, Rackshar didn't remember the name of the merchant that Kaleb had met, so he had made one up. All this human had to do was mention the merchants name in the Bazaar to find that there was no such person.

What it came down to was Rackshar could not arrive at the Bazaar, preferably at all, but definitely not with this group. So, while he continued to feed Eraldu misinformation, he began to think of a reason that a heavily injured man could have to set off into the wilderness on his own.

Several hours passed with longer and longer stretches of uncomfortable silence between Eraldu and Rackshar. The sun had just begun to set when Eraldu signaled for the wagons to halt.

A few of his riders approached from along the wagon line to see what the cause of the stop was.

"Whats the holdup boss?" One of the riders asked as they all got near.

"We only have a few hours of sunlight left and we aren't going to make it to the Bazaar tonight. I say we set up camp now."

"Yeah, but a few hours traveled tonight is a few more hours we get to spend in town."

"Where you'll be too tried to do anything anyways. Happens every time with you, we get to town, and you crash for a day before you can even leave your room." Several of the riders laughed and jeered at the man in question, who smiled good naturedly at their jabs.

"We set up camp now then we make it to town around noon tomorrow actually well rested." Motioning to a clearing to the side of the road, Eraldu added, "Besides we probably won't find a better camp site further on."

The setting up of the camp went smoothly, with each member knowing his role and carrying it out swiftly. As a group that spent their lives on the road, they were very adept at making camp.

Rackshar spent his time at the outer edges of the camp, leaning against the back of the provision wagon. He wanted to avoid being asked to help with tasks when he had no idea what they were. Instead he wanted to observe how these humans interacted with each other and what went into setting up a "camp".

The process seemed rather simple. A large fire was quickly erected in the center of the clearing while another group started constructing tents between the fire and the wagons circling the clearing. A third group took the slaves out one wagon at a time, taking them for a walk around the clearing and allowing the to relive themselves.

From what Rackshar observed this was probably the first time the slaves had been let out of the wagons all day. The way they almost collapsed when they dropped from the wagon, their muscles obviously cramping after being confined in a box for hours on end. Rackshar speculated that after this they would be locked up in the wagons for the night, so the Slavers wouldn't have to worry about them. Then they would be let out one more time in the morning before the caravan set out for the day.

This routine continued for weeks, or even months, on end would have obvious physical and psychological repercussions. Their muscles would have signs of atrophy, many would have sores, rashes and other skin ailments from being pressed together in unwashed masses. The slaves eyes would become dull for the constant physical stress and few of every batch would always break. The broken ones would either snap and go crazy, screaming gibberish and even attacking those around them indiscriminately. Others would lose their minds, becoming nothing more than a husk, a empty shell with no reaction even if a whip was taken to them.

Regardless of which case it was, the only way they could be delt with by the Slavers was disposal. A broken product had no value and to continue to transport it would have costs with no benefits.

And thus was the cause of such treatment, these slaves were seen as little more than a commodity. They were kept in cages because it was convenient, not because it was optimal, but these Slavers didn't care about optimal. They were only here as transporters. The slaves would be sold wholesale once they reached the Bazaar. This was little more than a numbers game for the Slavers. The Slave market merchant who bought them would have to worry about their quality and if they could be sold to customers.

Rackshar understood all this because he had controlled such systems in the past when he still ruled over his dragonborn. But the fate of the slaves was of very little interest to him right now. What was most interesting to him right now was watching the movements of the humans, of particular interest to him was the discussion of the guard duty. Particularly who would be watching the provision wagons during the night.

As he watched Rackshar felt a shiver down his spine. Glancing around he saw a small group of humans approaching from the road.

Seven humans, 3 women and 4 men, dressed in traveling cloths of obvious quality, stopped just outside the ring of wagons.

"Hello the camp!" One of the males called out through cupped hands.

Quickly Eraldu met with the new group, a few of his core members backing him in case there were any problems. One could never be too careful out in the wilderness.

"What can I do for you, mister...?" Eraldu said, his face stern and his arms crossed over his chest.

"Gearish," The man who had hailed the camp stepped forward with a friendly smile on his face. "We're an adventurer party just out of the Bazaar on an exploration expedition. We were looking for a place to camp for the night and it seems you've taken the best spot for miles. We were hoping that you wouldn't mind if we shared the camp for the night?"

Eraldu's face only became more stern after hearing that they were adventurers.

"Sorry friend, but as you can see our camp is quite crowded, so it would be hard to squeeze y..."

"We can pay." Gearish interrupted. Pulling a leather pouch off his belt.

Eraldu froze for only a brief moment before a smile spread across his face.

"Well why didn't you say so." He said stepping aside and gesturing Gearish into the camp. "it may be a little tight but we can always find space for a fellow traveler."

Rackshar watched them walk into the camp chatting like old friends. He was leaning concealed in the shadow of a wagon where he had been listening to the whole exchange.

His lips curved up as he watched the group of adventures approach the fire.

'This I can use.'