Arland perched on one side of the fire, his eyes intent on the hooded figures on the other side.
Wen tried not to roll her eyes. Since they'd joined, Arland had had an unabating curiosity about the new passengers. She couldn't blame him; they were secretive, and secrets were attractive to curious youngsters dodging their alchemy lessons.
The new additions that had joined the caravan didn't have a wagon and thus, had paid for space in the passenger wagons. They kept mostly to themselves save for dinnertime.
Wen had a theory that they only participated as much as they did to keep the suspicions down. The leader of the group, Kylen Horald had said that they were traveling to Crestfield to join a caravan. He neglected to give any further information, and Rockland, the caravan leader and Arland's big brother, hadn't pried.
As Rockland had commented to Wen, where the man and his little entourage was going wasn't any of his business nor did he want to know.
Currently, the new additions were sharing Wen's fire because she honestly didn't care what they were up to as long as it didn't involve her broken statue. It was that attitude that led to them relaxing just a bit around her.
At first, she'd thought that the hooded figures were old dwarves. She'd heard that they usually went traveling in their old age, shrouded in cloaks because they were unsure of the open skies.
Now, she wasn't so sure. They didn't move like old dwarves. If you paid attention, the hooded ones moved like sprightly young people. There was a certain air of youth to them that was unmistakable.
There was also the matter of Kylen and Enlais being so protective. Enlais was the female dwarf that accompanied Kylen. Wen had been surprised to see her. She was the first female dwarf Wen had seen in the game.
Unlike the million and one versions Wen was familiar with from various fantastical milieus, Enlais was a revelation. She was short, stocky, and clean shaven. There was no sign that a beard ever grew on those smooth cheeks.
She was also pretty. Wen always had an itch in her fingers whenever she saw Enlais. There was a clean-cut androgyny about her that made Wen wish for a canvas or a nice piece of stone.
"Your eyes are going to freeze that way if you don't blink once in a while," Enlais groused, using a stick to poke at the fire.
Wen watched Arland as he jumped and then blinked ferociously before rubbing his eyes with a muttered curse. She knew that situation. She'd been in it a time or two but never over an actual person. The last time had been at a waterfall, trying to piece together how to put that ferocity into a static image without losing that fierce, fluid tenacity that had attracted her attention in the first place.
That piece had paid her college tuition for an entire year. She'd just smugly banked the overage the bursar had sent her without mentioning it to her parents. It was one of the reasons she could afford her capsule and current apartment.
"I wasn't really staring," Arland protested halfheartedly.
Kylen and Enlais exchanged semi-amused looks. The hooded figures just clustered together a bit more tightly, though the one on the left was a little slower, a glint of light showing that it was staring at Arland as well.
"If that wasn't staring, then I surely don't know how it works," Kylen chimed in.
Wen fought back a smile. Then she paused. It was as if a veil had suddenly been lifted. Kylen and Enlais were deflecting attention from the cloaked trio.
If she thought back, it was always that way. Anyone who showed interest was deflected by either Enlais or Kylen moving or talking. Sometimes it was as simple as a trip over a root or loose brick, and sometimes it was an argument or question over something simple.
Wen watched as Arland stormed off, ears red, clearly experiencing teen angst. It stirred a sympathetic pang of remembrance. It hadn't been that long since her last teen tantrum, but the consequences had been more severe than a little embarrassment.
"And with that, dear hostess, we are off to bed," Kylen said, standing.
Wen smiled at him. It tried to freeze a little when the smallest cloaked figure stumbled a little, rising and threw out an arm to stabilize itself. The arm itself was a work of art.
It glittered in the firelight like finely veined marble, streaks of carnelian and gold threaded through. Then it was gone.
They had all froze for a second.
"Have a good night," Wen said, striving for her usual pleasant tone.
The artist in her screamed. She so wanted to rip the cloak off and see if it was an automaton of some sort. She'd heard that there was a town somewhere near the Dwarven borders where the craftsmen made marvels.
And yet there had been a suppleness to the stone that argued against outside creation. It was as if it was a regular arm of a regular being which stirred up her curiosity a bit.
But just a bit.
"We will," Kylen said, eyes searching hers for a long second before he nodded gravely and stepped away, shepherding his charges before him.
Enlais waited until he was a bit aways before giving Wen a nod just as solemn.
Wen let out a breath she wasn't quite aware of holding. Then she tossed another branch onto the fire. She stood up, realizing her kindling and firewood pile was getting low. She kept a small store in her cart, scavenged as the caravan plodded towards Crestfield, one of the hubs of the caravanserai.
She turned, starting as she saw one of the guards, Ruster, standing near her wagon. He was one of the vice-captains of Rockland's guards.
Since Rockland was an alchemist and ran the caravan for his family, there was a need for the abundance of guards. Rockland was transporting potions, ingredients and related goods in his wagons as well as providing protection for those willing to pay to travel with him.
From what Wen could see, it seemed to be a lucrative thing. He earned a bit of side money doing something he had to do anyways, but she wasn't sure he needed quite so many guards. Arland had told her it was because they were under contract from a couple of trips ago when Rockland had to transport a hundred pounds of dragon scales to the Outer Lands.
The contract was supposed to be up in a trip or two. Arland hadn't been clear on the details and Wen hadn't wanted to seem too interested. There was no reason to arouse enmity because she was being nosy. She just wanted to make it to a caravan heading towards Farthenham Woods.
At least that was the info her fellow mentee had passed her. Any caravan heading that way would take her by the town her mentor was currently at, painting some weird scenic view he'd discovered. The others would take too long to get there, diverting to other places much like a Greyhound.
Only the straight shot would avoid that, according to Mavis. The route was long established, just not that frequent due to its length. Just a few caravans took it, but there was a new one that was heading that way that had listed itself on the caravanserai a couple of days ago.
Wen warily watched Ruster who was watching Kylen and Enlais depart. His eyes darted to her, and he nodded slightly before wheeling and disappearing into the darkness.
Wen resisted the urge to shiver. Who knew who else was watching just outside the light of her fire?