The old fart scrambled to the cart and hopped on, swinging his feet off the back while laying his back against a crate. "Ahh… That's much better…"
Before they had even crossed the gate, the old drunk was already sound asleep.
Plenty of people laughed as they left the city behind them and watched the drunken fool cuddling with his wine gourd. Since the trip wasn't short, they would be marching for hours just to enter the Taltin Mountains. Betting on the old man and his sleep schedule quickly became one of their favorite past times.
Most everyone bet that the old man would sleep past the first break. Plenty bet that the old man would sleep past two breaks. A few bold betters even bet that the old man would be passed out the entire trip.
When the first break arrived, the whole fifteen minutes passed without the drunk even flinching. After three hours of travel, they stopped for another short break.
