"These people are crazy. I would never stop in a shithole like this if it weren't for the wargs. Our destination was Shaku. Do you know if my goods are safe?" Asked a scrawny middle aged woman with more wrinkles than a crumpled paper.
"How did you escape the wargs?" Lith couldn't care less about their cargo.
"We didn't escape. They ignored us." Said a lean man in his late fifties, with grizzled hair and beard. "They were too focused praying to pay us any attention."
"Praying?" Lith was even more incredulous than he sounded.
"Well, they were kneeling on the ground, doing nothing but chanting some gibberish." The man shrugged.
"It wasn't gibberish, master Dihel, but magic." Said a young man about Lith's age who looked more like an artist than a wannabe merchant. He had handsome features and arms so thin Lith doubted he had ever lifted something heavier than a toothpick.
"How can you be so sure?" Lith asked.
