We have taken an extra day of rest, just west of Dragonspear Castle, to celebrate the feast of Greengrass. As a Beshaban, this feast-day holds no significance for me. I am unfamiliar with the customs. It seems as though someone has give Tegan a well-used horse, so perhaps that is part of the tradition.
A roguish looking, gnomish looking female appears to have taken an interest in our group, and like us, she he seems to be interested in the suspect wagons, too… I will keep my eye on her.
Though the rest of the caravan members are mingling today, with many of the travellers exchanging gifts of wildflowers and sharing polite pleasantries, the crew from the suspect wagons remain dour, and keep to themselves, lending further confirmation to our suspicions. By Beshaba’s will, their lives will soon be our playthings, klaatu barada nikto amen.
