Grango stretched himself out on the back of the horse-drawn wagon, yawning sleepily. Aralynn envied him; he seemed so relaxed while each and every bump in the road made Aralynn jolt.
Not to mention their mission; a few hours earlier, Cyren, their Brass Hand proctor, had given them their objective: to pull off a heist of a casino's bank vault in Agemön, a metropolitan elvish city. Normally, this heist wouldn't be necessary, as Cyren had explained. However, this specific casino, the Devil's Hand, was owned by a devil like its name suggested, and its illicit funds were being used to fuel nefarious activity throughout the empire. Given this, the Brass Hand hand had deemed it necessary to shut it down.
"You will take a horsecart to Agemön," Cyren had said. "From there, you will navigate to the city's pier, where there is a stone tower. I will provide you with a map. We will reconvene there, and I will give you further details."
She leaned back against the side of the wagon as well, yawning and stretching. She crossed her arms. Besides her, Perona was very much the same, seemingly trying to sleep but jolting awake at each bump on the road. As another bump on the road made Aralynn hang her head against the wooden frame of the cart, she gave up trying to sleep and resigned herself to couple more hours of this torture.
It was lucky that Perona had healed her thigh wound from Cyren's test, or else the rough road would 100% open up her leg again. Speaking of that, she'd never thanked her. Aralynn turned to Perona. "Thanks for earlier," she tried to say, but the rattling and bouncing of the cart made it come out more like "Tha-a-anks *CLUNK* for earl-ie-ier *CRASH*."
Luckily, it seemed as if Perona had caught her words. "Don't mention it," She said. Aralynn could see that her face looked a little green.
"Are you wagon sick?" she asked.
Perona closed her eyes. "Nope. Not at all."
Yep, definitely wagonsick…
"Look at a point in the distance," inserted Amon. "It helps." Somehow, the devilkin was unaffected as well and leaned drowsily against the wooden frames. He yawned. "Still got a couple hours. Can't have you throwing up in the cart," he joked.
Perona stared off into the distance and nodded. "Thanks."
"Anytime. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll take a little nap…" Amon tugged his hood lower to cover his eyes and soon fell asleep.
"Jesus. Wish I had that power," Aralynn said.
"Tell me about it." Even staring out into the distance, Perona still looked a bit queasy. Her straight, smooth strands of hair glimmered like dew as it bounced around in the cart.
The silence was palpable between the two as the rest of the party had fallen asleep, Hadarai conked out, leaning against a pillar, Grango flat-facing on the floor, and Amon sleeping while sitting stoically. Eve tried to come up with a conversation topic. "What was that skill you used earlier? To knock them back."
"That wasn't a skill, actually. It was a spell," answered Perona. "You're new to the system, right? Some classes are labeled as mages and can use spells. My class, minstrel, is one of such spellcaster classes. The spell I used earlier was-"
"Saizlef's Thunder?" recalled Aralynn. "Now that I think about it, I've seen it used before in my previous job. I don't think I've ever seen it look like that, though." The elven developed spell, frequently employed among front-line mages in the imperial army, swept a wave of concussive force, damaging and pushing enemies back, making it an ideal hordebreaker. Normally, though the spell had a visible effect, based on the spell caster: thunderclouds rolling forwards, a blinding shockwave, etc. However, Perona's Saizlef was curiously invisible.
"Mmmn. And what was your previous job, pray tell? You know that I'm a bard and performer." Perona asked, her eyes glinting.
Aralynn thought. She probably has something similar to Comprehension as well. Aralynn closed her mouth and said nothing.
"Fine then. I won't pry." Perona conceded.
After that, the two rested in awkward silence, both trying to catch some sleep but ultimately failing.
- - -
Aralynn awoke from her restless slumber to Amon screaming. "Jack! Jack, what's going on?" The devilkin had his bow drawn and was reaching for an arrow from his quiver. The wagon had halted.
"There's dire wolves," the wagon driver replied, his voice shaking. "Goblins as well."
"Everyone up and out!" ordered Amon. Aralynn was closest to the wagon exit. She kicked the half-door down and slid out, drawing her rapier as the wagon had already halted. Next was Grango, bow drawn as well, then Perona, Hadarai, and finally Amon himself. Indeed, a pack of dire wolves had encircled the wagon, three of which had goblin riders. There was a small squad of goblins on foot as well.
"Alright," Hadarai sighed, sliding his longsword off of his back. "We have a ferry to catch. Let's wrap this up quick."
The next few minutes went by as expected; the wolves were quickly dispatched, looking like pincushions by the time Amon and Grango were done with them. Of the goblins, only one remained, the rest slaughtered between Aralynn and Hadarai.
The last goblin, looking around and seeing it was the only one left, kneeled and raised its hands in surrender. "D-Derrick does not wish to fight. Derrick surrenders. Derrick only attacked because others forced him to."
Grango and Perona exchanged glances. "I guess that means you're coming with us," Grango decided, pulling out rope from his rucksack.