Cloaked figures in the night.

The wagon rolls along the road south as the cool night's breeze blows along the river. You have been traveling a few hours now and suspect the crossroads should be just ahead. In the distance, you can see two figures on the road. Despite the light of the full moon, you can't make out much detail. Only that they are wearing dark cloaks. "Bandits?" You wonder to yourself. Surely they have spotted you by now. But, if they are bandits, why are they out in the open and not lying in wait to ambush you. With the wagon, it will be hard to avoid them. You decide to press forward to deal with them if need be, your dagger at the ready. Deciding it best to keep the demonic canister and the beast within hidden, for now, you place it beneath the bench and cover it with your own cloak.

The distance between you and the figures shrinks and you can see they are walking south towards the crossroads. Their cloaks are dirty brown woolen and you notice one is much larger than the other. The smaller figure walks with a certain grace while the larger with a noticeable limp. As you draw closer, they stop and turn in your direction. You can clearly make out that the smaller figure is a woman with black hair tied up under the hood of her cloak dressed in leather armor binding her breasts down but you can tell they are at least of moderate size. Her slim waist ringed with a leather belt supporting a few pouches and a pair of slim daggers. Black leather pants hug her slim legs down to the brown supple leather boots on her feet. The larger one is a bald man clad in a worn steel breastplate, a longsword visibly sheathed at his hip. Despite his limp, you see no cuts or rips in his brown leather pants. Adventures or mercenaries by the look of them. They step to the side of the road to clear the way for your wagon and watch as you approach.

"Excuse me, sir." The woman pleads as you near. "Please. We were attacked a few miles back. We managed to kill the bandits but not before they killed our horses and wounded Amon here." She indicates the large warrior to her side with a quick gesture. "My name is Nisa and we would be grateful if you could please give us a ride to the next town. Wherever you are going is fine with us."

"I'm sorry to bother you with this" the man's gruff voice cuts in. "At this late hour we are tired and I need to rest this leg. Damn horse fell over dead with me still on him. Twisted it up good." Amon spits to the ground with a curse. "We have coin and could pay you a couple silver for your trouble."

These two could be trouble if they discover who you really are. On the other hand, if you gained their trust, they could help you on the rest of your journey to Gramsby. Maybe even make fine sacrifices to Zporaflor. You could feel the beast stirring from within the demonic canister below your seat. It's hunger growing.