“Watch out!” the dwarf bellowed in warning but was too slow to do much stop the cart.
Recognizing the arraignment of a fellow Traladaran–albeit one of the wandering folk engaged in questionable enterprise–Stephan lunged to keep the poor woman from being pummeled by the runaway cart.
His feet were swift, and he veritably tackled the old woman in what he hoped was not too jarring an impact for her old bones. “Ahhhhaaie,” the scratchy voice of the woman pierced the air. “Kitne duuk ki bahaat te!,” she managed to screech as the woodsman made what seemed to be an attack upon her.
The two, flew into a nearby pampoon cart landing, for the most part, on the juicy ripe fruit. The pinkish, yellow fluids from the pampoons erupted in a dying rain, coating Stephan and the woman. The warrior looked about to find the cart’s vendor, but it seemed as though he must have ran off.
The runaway cart continued it’s perilous run down the rough street.
Ludo ran forward to help the old lady to her feet. “Good save Stephen! T’was a close call, that cart would have flattened a dragon.” Turning to the fortune teller he asked her, “Are you all right?”
“Thank ye young man. I be all right thanks ta this strong one ‘ere,” she said with gratitude toward Stephan.
He watched, impressed as Stephen saved the old woman and followed the carts travel down the incline, where it crashed into a building. Luckily, no one else was in danger. He glanced back up the street to see where the cart had come from as he headed to where his companions were grouping together to talk to the old Traladaran woman. The cart’s vendor was nowhere to be found.
“My name be Mafka,” she said as she dusted herself off. “The least I can do for ye kind sirs is render ye fortune. Free o’ charge of course. Who of ye shall lend me yer hand?”