The Man Behind the Ass

	"Hail traveler"
	Jarad had watched the covered wagon approach him for at least fifteen 
minutes, doubt gnawing at his gut if the wagons occupants would find 
means to do him harm, but the warm greeting the driver gave, plus the age 
of the man, set his worries aside.
	"Hail" Jarad responded. "If I may, can I enquire to your destination?" 
Jarad had a good guess. The trail they both occupied eventually lead to 
Escembra, and then further south.
	"Escembra, last stop for this shipment. Would you be wanting a ride?"
	"You read my mind."  Jarad offered a lopsided grin to the driver. It 
was about time his luck changed. "I cannot offer you much in return 
unfortunately."
	"If you can swing that blade at your hip with any hint of ability then 
you would have no debt with me.  The brigands Rufus hired to guard this 
shipment helped them selves to six barrels and took off three days into 
the journey. Plus I'd like the company.  The name's Hawk"
	The gray haired man offered his hand down to Jarad, and to his 
surprise, practically lifted Jarad into the seat of the wagon.  He may look 
old but his grip could have strangled a wolf.  After rearranging himself 
on the hard wooden bench Jarad took stock of his benefactor.  Human, 
looked to be 50 or 60 years old, but built quite well.  From the road his 
cloak hid the lethal body mass the Hawk possessed, but up close it was 
almost intimidating. If the driver didn't have on his purely cheerful 
grin as he set the horses in motion again Jarad would have declined the 
offer of a ride.
	"I can see it in your eyes, your wondering why my name is Hawk," the 
driver said.  Jarad rolled his eyes, no wonder his guard left, this man 
was a rambler.  Lia knows how many cold nights he spent in warm inns 
listening to his type weave stories of heroism or debauchery.  "It's a 
nickname Rufus gave me some twenty years ago.  It fit more back then, 
when I could see well.  Used to be able to shoot the eye out of a rooster 
at 100 yards before dawn.  But that was then, now I just crush 
roosters."  Jarad forced a grin; this was going to be a long two days.  It was 
better than walking though.
	The old one continued.  "Yep, became big, slow, and half blind in my 
age.  My youth was much wilder.  Trailing hither and yon fighting 
whatever would let us.  Foolish activities but I wouldn't give up that time 
for the world.  You seem the type that still enjoys those same 
activities, what manner of circumstances finds you alone on this road at times 
like these?"
	Jarad blinked himself out of a self-imposed trance. Great, not only 
was he going to ramble, he wanted to hear his life story too, he sighed 
to himself in resignation.  Hawk did seams to be a good read of 
character though. "I was riding to meet my companions in Escembra when my damn 
fool horse stepped in a gopher hole, fell, and broke its neck, near 
crushing me in the process."  Jarad noted the Hawk showed a slight hint of 
a frown for a mere moment, and made note not to speak to harshly of his 
late horse from then on.
	If someone was going to ramble about his life story, Jarad preferred 
it would be Hawk. "So who's Rufus?"
	"Rufus is my current boss, prior traveling companion, long time 
friend, and constant pain in my ass."  Hawk chuckled to himself before 
continuing.  "Rufus 'The Mule' Cornwall.  Occupation: Alcoholic. I meet him 
many many years ago in a tavern far north of here, back when we were 
both green and ready to conquer the world, or at least sleep with all the 
women.  He looks human but from his stature and winning personality I'd 
say his great grandmother was a dwarf.  After a brief scuffle him 
giving me this scar," Hawk pointed to what was once a large gash on his 
neck, "And me pinning his hand to the table with my dagger we became strong 
friends at the clerics, and eventually travelers.
	"His stubborn streak earned him his nickname, and our way out of the 
sword play business.  Somehow we ended up being hired to defend this 
little fort or something from an attack from a second little fort.  After 
it became quite apparent that we were loosing, Rufus took it upon 
himself to be the rear guard as everyone escaped.  The fool was determined 
to fight off 50 men by himself, and by Lia he was going to win.  The 
other side had a different idea, and blew him up.
	"Afterwards in Lia's temple Rufus and I decided that we were done with 
the adventuring thing, his missing leg being the deciding factor.  Thus 
we started making and shipping this."  On the word this Hawk gestured 
with his head to the back of the wagon.  Jared looked behind him.  
Sitting on the floor of the wagon were ten or so large barrels with a mule's 
head labeled on the side of each one.  Not surprisingly they smelt of 
alcohol.
	"Ass ale?"  Jarad asked in bewilderment.
	"No, not ass ale, 'The Mule's Brew'," Hawk grinned. "Don't ever let 
Rufus ever hear you call it ass ale.  As far as he knows no one calls it 
ass ale, it would break his heart if he knew the truth." Hawk grin 
spread father around his head.