Adventurer who put all their points in horses and vehicles so they can drift the party's wagon.
The archer poked his head out of the back of the covered wagon, taking a out another of their pursuers before dipping back into hiding. “Can’t this thing go any faster,” he yelled as an arrow dropped through the cover and thunked into the flooring next to him.
“What do you think the wizard is doing,” Penelope screamed back, not taking her eyes off the horse and road in front of her. Behind her, the wizard continued chanting her spell, the only thing keeping them ahead of their pursuers. If she had space in her head for anything else, Penelope would be praying that the horse would survive this.
The job hadn’t seemed bad upfront. Simply deliver a merchant and his (admittedly suspiciously light) cargo to the next town over. One way trip by horse and wagon, well worn path, easy job. Too easy. She had expected some sort of trouble. Possibly bandits, maybe a few of some noble’s men attacking them in an ambush.
What she hadn’t expected was a goblin war wagon led by a team of the fastest worgs she’d ever seen.
A yell of pain from the back made her grip the reins harder. She didn’t need to hear the following yell from the cleric to know that the archer was down. Penelope cursed, sparing a glance at the wizard. The sweat beading her forehead told her they didn’t have much time left.
Eyes back on the road. And she saw salvation.
“Grab anything nailed down,” she screamed at the top of her lungs. The wizard looked up and somehow turned paler.
The path ahead took a sharp turn to avoid a dense grouping of trees. An easy turn to make, at a walk. Less easy when you were barreling down with a magically enhanced draft horse.
She yanked the reins to the left, the horse following suit with an ear-splitting neigh. The wagon turned with him, wheels skidding along the ground. The wizard grabbed the side. From the back came the sound of clattering supplies and falling bodies.
The wagon started to tip, all its parts screeching in protest.
SLAM
The wheels crashed back down, jolting the wagon again.
But everything kept going, nothing broken (yet), the horse still galloping far faster than he should. Over the sound of rampaging hooves and creaking parts Penelope thought she could her the high-pitched screaming of their pursuers, worgs howling, then a massive crash of flesh and wood. A few seconds later the victorious shouts of the archer confirmed her imagination and she allowed herself a tight smile.
The wizard stumbled to her feet and looked back at Penelope in horror. “…Never…Do that… Again”, she said breathily as the horse started to slow to a manageable pace, panting heavily.
