**Just south of the Great Road, along one of the smaller pathways, a smallish caravan had made camp for the night. It was the sort of sight many weary, lonesome travelers dream of: a cheery fire, a large pot of stew bubbling cozily, and a good handful of serious looking, well-armed guards.
All in all, it seemed like a perfectly normal caravan made camp for the night. But when watchers turn to wolves, nothing is as it seems, is it?**
**As they neared, one guard nudged another and both put hands to the hilts of their swords. But they didn't move forward and a voice called out from the fire.**
Voice - "What ho, more travelers? I say, you must join us; you really must join us!"
**The voice belonged to a short, round man in fine merchant's clothes with a truly prodigious mustache who happily waved the two to come to the fire with his spoon. Beside him sat a young, pretty girl with short reddish hair, presumably his daughter, who spared the travelers a few glances as she rather noisily slurped from her bowl.**
Dirk was far too busy slurping at tasty stew. But soon, he had finished a little bit and spoke up.
"I am Trader James Parcheesi, But please call me James. I managed to sell my whole caravan at The Kinf of Adventure, horses and wagon and all! Don't look now, but my pockets are so fat, even my Stash can't carry it all!"
Chuckling, he almost went back to his soup, but that differently.
"Oh, and this is my long time bodyguard and friend and associate .... B ... S."
CT laughs and finishes his stew, then he looks around to see how many guards there are and where. "You seem to have quite the protection accompanying you! Are these roads dangerous?" He asked making up something to talk about
**At that, one of the guards looked over, a slight look of anticipation crossing his face. Monty, for his part, merely nodded in agreement. Perhaps his mouth tensed a little, but if the man truly took anything from the investigator's words he masked it masterfully. The girl, however, was not quite so disciplined.
Mira sputtered into her soup, nearly dropping the bowl as she croaked at the guests through a poorly-swallowed mouthful**