Snippet #2562203

(I'll do the carriage driver to help you along, if you don't mind. Btw sorry for being gone so long. I got into some financial trouble I had to dig myself out of >.<)
A few more hours pass as the splintered oaken carriage creaks and bumps and jolts over the road, its axels sounding to be barely held together. Certainly, it wasn't in the best condition, but the driver didn't ask as exorbitant a price as others, and so it was ideal for those who had little money and weren't in any hurry to get somewhere extremely fast. The seat that Adrian lays upon is soft enough, however, padded with linen stuffed with hay, and although it's not well-lit, Adrian will be able to see in this darkness better than the average human. A very dim lantern hangs on one wall, and some scant sunlight filters through the crack of the heavy crimson curtains upon the other side that serve as a shield to the world without, closing off the portal to the quickly-rising dawn.

The carriage driver, a gaunt, dark-haired dark-eyed man in his middle ages with a perpetually scowling, wrinkled face opens the carriage's curtain as they arrive at their destination, looking down at Adrian with a not-entirely-pleased expression as he holds the oil lamp he's lit over the nearly dead kid's face. By the light filtering in through the opening he's made, it would appear to be dawn, the sun just now rising slowly over the horizon "Ah, well, yer awake, then. Ye were jus' 'bout dead as a doornail when I lifted ye inta tha' thar seat. Yer lucky I don' charge ye extra, wut fer makin' me do all tha' 'eavy liftin'. I'm an old man, y'know!" he rants in a gravelly, gruff voice, although he doesn't seem to be particularly angry, as he doesn't, in fact, charge Adrian extra for the inconvenience. He beckons to the kid as he steps back down from the carriage, his walk hobbled slightly by a faint limp. "Aye, well, 'ere we are," he says, holding out his hand expectantly, "Tha'll be one gold denar, sir."