The carriage is late

Morgala trundles out of Brandt Keep with a heavy suitcase in her hands.

A strong wind blows her modest cloak about as she waits for the stagecoach to arrive. It's autumn, and the weather has taken a turn for the worse. It must have rained last night too, because the ground is wet and everything just feels kind of yucky out.

I can't wait to get away from here!

Morgala's been planning this vacation for months, and has been saving up her money for more than a year. Compared to the things Tina gets to do on a regular basis, her trip to the coast is nothing to sneeze at, but for our poor, put-upon elf, it means the world.

I hope they get here soon...

The chilly wind picks up, forcing Morgala to set her suitcase down in the muck and pull her cloak close.

Maybe I should go back inside and wait. No, they'll be here any minute. I don't want to miss them...

Three miserable hours later, the stagecoach finally arrives.

Morgala looks at it as if she could will it to die with a stare. She's cold, shivering, her feet are numb, and she's soaked to the bone.

"Hop in!" Says the overly-cheery driver. She's a spunky lady, orc from the looks of things, with green skin and black hair kept under her big hat and thick, warm coat.

Morgala just looks at her with cold, silent rage. Rage, and jealousy at how warm and dry the driver looks while she feels so, so cold and wet (but not in the good way).