A long line of drab-colored wagons rolls along the bumpy merchant trail, accompanied by a number of Jupani and Cervani guards. At the front of one of the wagons, a lepine merchant looks out, his long white ears grasping at any sounds that might be heard, his eyes glancing nervously toward the vast graveyard not far enough away, his mind filled with legends of the horrors associated with that cursed ground.

A Cervani stag glances toward the nervous rabbit. "Worry not, sir. The tales are but tales. There are no ghosts."

Hidden in the branches of a nearby tree, Vorgulremik eyes the caravan with interest. The dragon is tired of eating bugs and being cold, but hasn't built up enough strength yet to bring down anything big enough to satisfy his immature digestion. Seeing the sharp-eyed sentries, he huddles closer to the treetrunk. It's colder there, but there is no sunlight to betray his presence.

Another wagon passes. A rat in multi-colored garb, wearing a single black glove, looks about almost as nervously as the rabbit, though his gaze does not gravitate toward the graveyard as much. An old bloodhound seated next to him keeps a watchful eye on the surroundings.

{ Surely, they'll camp for the night. I should be able to find something edible then. } o . thinks Vorgulremik from his perch.

Eventually, the wagons roll on past Vorgulremik's perch, leaving only a straggler guard who paused at a nearby tree to … er … answer the call of nature … and the stag is about finished.

Vorgulremik scuttles down from his tree, and hides in the underbrush alongside the road. He keeps one eye on the stag at all times.

The stag grumbles and mutters under his breath, "Ain't afraid of no ghosts or ghoulies. Bah. Forget the legends. But that witched art-ee-fact. (grump) Got a curse on it, I wager. Can't ever trust a rat. Black magic, no doubt."

The Cervani turns his head, just now realizing that he's been there a wee bit too long. He curses under his breath, pauses a moment more, then dashes after the retreating wagons.

Vorgulremik perks his ears at the language. It has apparently changed a bit since the person he 'acquired' it from was alive. It is still understandable to the dragon though, and something other than hunger kindles in his breast. Greed.

Vorgulremik follows the rear guard as fast as he can without making too much noise.

The wagons continue their course along the winding, diving and climbing road … doing more climbing than diving, as the foothills eventually give way to the gradual slopes of the mountains. The trees and underbrush are much thicker and wilder here, giving ample cover for bandits – or large dragons – and while the caravan certainly would have no reason to suspect the latter, the risks are certainly not lost on them as they make their way onward.

Vorgulremik grumbles to himself, hoping the caravan will stop before he's completely out of breath. It's getting harder to keep up AND stay quiet, even at a distance.

Despite the dragon's wishes, the caravan seems to show no sign of stopping. To think – a caravan travelling at night? But nonetheless, that's exactly what it is doing.

Vorgulremik risks coming closer, until he's almost parallel to the trailing wagon. { There must be a way to get onto that wagon without being spotted. } He begins to look around for a suitably large rock to distract the outriders with.

The dragon fails to find a suitably large rock immediately. But he does notice a few odd shapes lurking amongst the trees. Well, not that odd. Humanoid, to be more precise, and armed.

A raccoon archer in the shadows draws back his arrow, taking aim on one of the caravan guards. His comrades take similar actions, bending their bows.

Vorgulremik stops in his tracks, and hunches down under a bush. { They may have seen me already, but they can't do anything without revealing themselves. And when they attack, I can take advantage of the confusion. } the dragon reasons.

A bird call in the near distance breaks the silence. So do the sounds of arrow shafts cutting through the air … and through the soft parts of Jupani and Cervani guards.

Vorgulremik's nostrils flare at the scent of fresh blood, but he holds his position.

"AMBUSH!" is called out, as the guards react to the obvious. Chitin shields are brought to bear, and some dive for cover as the next wave of arrows fly.

A shaft hits Vorgulremik's flank.

Vorgulremik yelps out in pain, and turns on the ambushers in anger! A nearby tree blazes, scattering anyone that was using it for cover.

Vorgulremik bites down on the shaft and yanks it free of his flank.

A howling raccoon falls out of the tree, his fur aflame. His howl abruptly silences as his neck snaps against the hard ground. Nearby, a burden-beast pullling a wagon rears up, then falls over as the wagon topples sideways, spilling a pair of scared rabbits from the seat in the front. The camel-like beast bleats and bellows and struggles against its harness.

Vorgulremik pounces on the fallen raccoon and sinks his fangs into the throat to get at the blood while it's still warm. He needs the energy.

The flames lick and sting at the dragon's hide, threatening to consume him as it consumes the dead raccoon.

Vorgulremik spits out a mouthful of gore, and abandons the burning corpse to the flames. He dashes off towards the next tree.

A bejewelled rabbit lady shrieks as she sees the dragon bite into the fallen raccoon. She immediately swoons as Vorgulremik flees past.

Vorgulremik pauses as he spies the rabbit. A bit of higher thought contaminates his instincts, and he heads towards the fallen lady, intending to drag her out of the conflict.

At last, the arrows cease, and raccoon brigands charge into the open, bearing spears and polearms against the chitin blades of the remaining Cervani and Jupani defenders.

Vorgulremik grabs the lepine by her feet, and tries to drag her off to the opposite side of the road.

A raccoon bandit reaches for the fallen rabbit, but his eyes go wide at the sight of the dragon. A sudden scent alerts the dragon to the raccoon's fear, before he dashes away.

Vorgulremik smiles inwardly. It's heartening to know the locals have a proper respect for dragons.

Vorgulremik stashes the rabbit under a bush. Emboldened, he stands up on his hindlegs to survey the situation.

The bandits seem to be making short order of the merchants, despite their precautions … but that seems to be largely due to the sheer number of those involved. The attackers are not particularly well-armed, and quite a few look far too old or young to be in this line of work – and they take significant casualties – but still press on with unmatched savagery. (Save, that is, in the demonstrated case of coming face to face with a very large dragon.)

{ At the very least, I'll be able to eat tonight… unless this rabble is overly zealous in their funeral rites. } Vorgulremik looks over the mayhem from a distance, trying to find the rat merchant…

As the dragon surveys the action, more of the combatants notice his presence. Both sides seem to be assuming that he must be with the OTHER side. A few more arrows fly from the trees in the dragon's direction, though they are hastily and poorly aimed.

"DEMON!" someone cries. "GHOST!" cries another. Something akin to "AAAAAAAAAAIEEEEE!" is the most common response, however.

Vorgulremik growls and ducks down again. He considers setting the wagons on fire, and therefore depriving BOTH sides of their prize… but he still needs some time to recharge.

At last, the dragon spots the rat – His multi-colored mismatched garb is far from ample camoflage. The rat is charging away with a bundle under one arm, accompanied by the elder bloodhound at his side and a couple of rabbit merchants. A Jupani guard accompanying them is cut down by one of the bandits.

Vorgulremik makes a mental note of the direction the rat is fleeing in. He ducks down again to examine the rabbit, trying to determine her ransom value before risking himself to go after the rat's 'Artifact'. He checks the unconscious rabbit's hands for signs of manual labor.

The fallen rabbit is a bit plump, is wearing too much jewelry (some with only semi-precious stones, but some of genuine value), and doesn't appear to have done a day's work in her life.

Vorgulremik nods to himself. At the very least, the rabbit will be easy on his stomach. He risks another peek at the battle.

Screams and shouts and curses carry on the wind. Some of the toppled wagons are aflame, though quite possibly by accident rather than intent. It seems the battle is pretty much over. The only ones moving about are the raccoons, and a couple of badly-wounded camel-lizard-burden-beasts. Pillaging, looting and other such activities are happening will much vigor and enthusiasm.

Vorgulremik hmms, then strips his rabbit of as much jewelry as he can hold in his mouth. Confident the lady won't get far even if she awakens, he begins to make his way through the underbrush towards the ruined caravan…

Some of the raccoons bounce about, waving their prizes over their heads. A couple of fistfights have broken out among some of the raccoons over some of the more valuable items.

Vorgulremik hides behind a bush, and spits out one of the jewels. He places it in the open, nearby but still off the road, and waits to see if anyone takes the bait.

The dragon now notices a raccoon staring directly at his hiding place. How long has he been watching? "Th-the-the GHOST!"

The raccoon waves a hand in Vorgulremik's direction. "I saw … he … he grabbed the rabbit … to suck out her heart and take her body! AaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAA!"

The raccoon drops a handful of baubles and runs off screaming into the woods.

Vorgulremik grins. { Plenty of ghosts in this place, now. } He clears his throat, and makes a keening, moaning sound. It's a bit higher-pitched than he'd like for the effect, but there's not much he can do about that.

Confusion ensues. Apparently some of the raccoons must have either forgotten about the dragon earlier, marked it up to the haze of battle … or were simply overcome by greed. But many of them grab what they can and run. The others pick up their weapons again and take a more bold approach. They charge.

Three raccoons with newly-acquired chitin blades charge toward the source of the moaning. "Aha! Ghost, huh? Come on out and take what's coming to you!" one boasts loudly.

Vorgulremik stands up now, and spreads his wings to make himself look bigger. He hisses at the attackers, spraying out a mist of blood from their fallen comrade.

The raccoons don't take long at all to ponder the situation and come to a conclusion: They turn about and flee just as quickly as they charged.

Vorgulremik waits for the raccoons to vanish before spitting out the rest of the rabbit's jewerly. He'd almost swallowed it during his display…

Several more screams and shouts later, and the scene is pretty much cleared of moving bodies save for the dragon, and a couple of almost-dead burden-beasts.

Tendrils of smoke curl upwards into the night sky, quickly caught up by the wind as they reach past the treetops.

Vorgulremik carefully makes a circuit of the caravan, keeping his ears focussed on the surrounding trees in case a few archers decide to come back. He checks the fallen for any survivors, and pretty much ignores the dray beasts.

No survivors are to be found. It seems the bandits did a thorough job of dispatching the fallen, and did not bother with trying to make hostages out of any, armed or no.

{ There are still armed bandits and defenders with the rat. Whomever is left will come back here eventually. } The dragon gathers up the remaining valuables, dissatisfied at the lack of precious metals and the poor quality of the gems, and buries them at the base of large tree that he marks with his claws. Only then does he go back to search the remaining wagons for food and other supplies.

While a couple of overeager raccoons have left a couple of kegs spilling their contents out onto the ground, the food supplies – those which were not on the burning wagons – are pretty much untouched.

Vorgulremik looks over the food. { Rabbit fodder. No meat I can digest. } He leaves the food and begins dragging the corpses off in the direction the bandits fled, adding a few decorative mutilations to discourage any that might return. He doesn't want any local predators attracted to the remains of the caravan itself, either.

Vorgulremik takes a moment or three to snack on the stomachs of the younger looking herbivore guards though, before returning to the road. He scavenges some bedding to make a nest in one of the overturned wagons, and drags his hostage into it. Starting a small fire outside the wagon, he settles down in the nest to wait for the others to return.