Snippet #1825198

Klarus hastily made apologies to the crowd as the driver's auroch forced a wedge into the hustling masses. One ogre forced to step aside glowered down on the human and halforc with such intensity, that the monk could not even manage a, "so sorry." Instead he felt like retreating back under the cover of the wagon. "Do we have to be so disruptive?" the monk asked his misshapen companion.

"No, but this is more fun." The half-orc laughed as he watched an elf nearly get closelined by one of the bull's long horns.

"Ah... why don't you just drop me off here. Don't want to start out on the wrong foot with the good people here."

The half-breed shrugged, "suit yerself," and reined the beast to a halt. Meanwhile Klarus wrestled his meager belongings from the wagon. Once he had his two small bags in hand he said his last thanks to the driver, paid him the last of his silver, and stepped off directly into a large pile of horse shit. He could hear the half-orc laughing as he road off. Undetered, Klarus kicked the filth from his loafers and made his way to the side of the road. There he beheld a most puzzling sight. A goblin, much like the ones which infested the sewers of his home city, though clothed not in rat-hide but the trappings of civilization. The little creature appeared to be haggling potions and curatives from a ramshackle stand astride the road. 'Surely a merchant would be knowledgeable of the locale.'

"I say there, good sir...goblin, might I ask you where I one can find the nearest house of lodging?"