Wraithvine wakes up to find a group set up a camp around hir camp. Under the cloche by him is tea, some now cooled, fresh buns, and some fresh fruit. His friends were also being offered friendly repast. -- Anon Guest
Wraithvine returned to consciousness and the grip of gravity to the early rays of dawn. As well as the realisation that someone had been in their camping spot.
There was a nice herbal tea waiting in a nearby teapot, as well as some fresh camp cakes. There was even a basket of fruit and nuts. Looking around, ze saw a lot more tents than what they started with. Tents, and merchant's caravans.
And one muscular Halloblood with wings spread, watching over all of them from a handy tree branch. "Good morning," they said, gliding down to the ground. "We saw your camp, but everyone was out when we pulled up. Given your ward-work, we kind of invited ourselves to your protection. Is that lot adequate payment?"
Ah. Right. Grurg the Hefty was a sound sleeper and Drevan was essentially dead until dawn[1]. "A fair exchange for certain," Wraithvine allowed. This caravan train had a Halloblood on their side, and had not tried to do any violence on Drevan while ze was insensate. That had to be a good sign.
Enlightened self-interest was always the first instinct of a traveling merchant. Whether or not that self-interest was going to become toxic was another question. A question that the Eternal Wizard was determined to answer.
It was, after all, just about time for some Xenophobia Wars to roll through this area again[2]. Ze was not looking forward to another century in an Oubliette. Or worse.
This group was refreshingly diverse. Elves, Orcs, D'varuv, even Hellkin and other Unwelcome People within the caravans.
There was even the phenomenon of jocular aggression between the caravaneers.
Well. That was a refreshing change.
By the time Drevan rose from hir shallow trench and Grurg untangled themself from the knot they tied themself into, Wraithvine and the portable kitchens of the train had cooked up something of a magnificent feast for all to share.
A happy reward for a happy circumstance.
[1] Such is the ur-life of Inverted Vampires.
[2] The Xenophobia Wars are not one incident in time, but rather a cyclical tide of hatred and prejudice in which varying sides remember the previous atrocity that justifies the one they're about to do back.
[Photo by Joshua Newton on Unsplash]
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