Ad aspera

- I hear that a lot. People aren't used to the beard, - Krait tugged at his bushy beard and chuckled, the sound echoing like a boulder tumbling into a mountain gorge. - And even if I were a bandit and attacked your caravan alone, I still wouldn't be able to carry much loot on my back, - he added knowingly.
Relaxing, he glanced towards the city:
- It doesn't seem far now. If any scoundrels show up, they'll think twice before messing with me.

-- Heh. N-yeah. It was even quieter in winter; all this rabble hid in their burrows. Now they're crawling out...
One of the riders slowed down, deftly maneuvering, and pulled a wineskin from the cart and took a swig.
- Martin, not again, or I'll make you eat it! Put the wineskin down.
- What's the big deal, boss? We're almost there, - he took another swig. - Now we have a mighty Knight of the Cart with us; what could possibly go wrong?
The man called Martin offered the wineskin to Krait.
- Have you ever been to Tirr?