The glaring sun cut through the arid skies with a sharp, golden heat. Wearing naught but a linen kilt, Gozer knelt behind a loaded wagon. He deftly tied the hempen rope holding the goods in place. A squat woman with more years behind her than most had ahead tossed him a wineskin.<br/><br/>"Thankee, young'un. If ye do that each eve and morn on the road I'll keep ye well fed fer sure." She waddled to the front of the wagon, screeching at one of her brood. "Quit yer gawpin', ye scandalous tramp!"<br/><br/>Wine spilled from the sides of his mouth and down his chest, Gozer payed no mind. He knew the young girl was more interested in his tattoos than anything else. Jessirat were not common in these parts, one of the many reasons he was here.<br/><br/>Gozer gave the girl a tight lipped smile he did not feel before she turned away hurriedly. One of the boys he had payed to watch his gear ran over. Kol was his name. "Don't worry 'bout Meeshay, Suh Gozuh. She be moon eyed today, Granmarm say so."<br/><br/>Lok, the younger, smaller brother hefted Gozer's armor and falchion into view. With a grunt of exertion he dropped it all and gave the large man a gap toothed grin, eyes shining expectantly.<br/><br/>Gozer pretended not to notice their drooping faces as he donned his gear, even going so far to take a swig of of wine before flipping the boys a tarnished coin. They squealed with glee and scampered off to parts unknown.<br/><br/>Two nights ago he had traded hands with the old woman, known only as Granmarm . Promising the matronly old merchant that he would safeguard her goods until the first village. If he found the job distasteful he would find work there or leave, and at the very least negotiate a more lucrative deal for the rest of the journey.<br/><br/>Her sons and daughters, grandsons and granddaughters went to and fro securing baggage and brokering last minute trades. She had quite the clan, and it reminded Gozer a bit of home. Aside from the evident lack of lascivious women, with a few exceptions.<br/><br/>The city was the biggest he had ever seen, an immense gate guarded the entrance. Temples that payed homage to more gods than he could name lined the streets beside taverns, brothels, and the occasional guard station. As he walked down the line, passing by other merchants and laborers, Gozer got a feel for the caravan. There was no way of knowing how things would turn out until it was all said and done. But things felt promising. His real aim was to find the priestess he had glimpsed the night before. There was a brand he wanted to add to his left arm.<br/><br/>As he thought he must be close; two men rounded the corner sharply, almost bumping into him. "Aye, the fools says the spirit of the Veil murdered Hurk and his gang- Whoa, fella watch your step. We're headin' out."<br/><br/>The men passed him without a second glance, "Nah, but I'll tell ya who done it. Yart has had a score to settle with 'im for months. Both gangs disappear into the wastes and only one returns with tales of spirits? Ha!"<br/><br/>Gozer headed towards Grandmarm's wagons, he would find the priestess later. He chuckled to himself, startling a woman hanging tarp over her cart bed. Spirits.<br/><br/>