[h1][COLOR=Silver]Abd al-Rahman[/COLOR][/h1] [hr] "The Caravan Master says to shift the load into the other wagons and leave this one!" The man had to shout to be heard above the tempest of wind and al-Rahman eyed him incredulously for a moment. To empty the wagon, and move it to the side of the trail, would require a ridiculous amount of time, far more than they likely had in this blizzard. His cloak, made of bear fur, was pulled tight about him as he waved toward the dark line of shapes that showed where his own soldiers waited. They were a stoic lot, much like their master, and equally as well dressed. Never let it be said al-Rahman did not care for his people. The mage, still trying to work her magic on a problem that al-Rahman could have fixed some time ago, was pushed aside and the crew went to work. They had not been in this business for as long as they had without a decent knowledge of how to replace a broken wheel. Skis would of course have been more practical given the weather but he had believed the astronomers and was now paying the price. He resisted the urge to snarl at the mage. It wasn't her fault but but it sure felt that way. Using several blocks of wood as a base they quickly drew two long sturdy logs, reinforced with iron brackets, from another wagon. Using a simple lever with four men sitting on the end, they were able to lift the damaged wheel mere inches off the ground; high enough to remove the offending piece and push the spare into place. The locking pin was hammered into place and the lever lowered until the wagon rested firmly on its wheels again. The whole procedure took less than half an hour, far less than the hour or two it might have taken to empty the wagon and repack the others. al-Rahman flashed a thumbs up at Master Pan since speaking was impossible. The two lever logs and their supporting blocks were returned to the wagon and the signal to move out given. At the head of the wagons, their huge shaggy backs almost like moving snow drifts, the Kanaliz Oxen, bred by the locals for just such a climate, bellowed whips cracked and the wagons slowly began to roll forward again. al-Rahman walked alongside, as did his crew. There was no advantage to being mounted in this chaos, it would only serve to put his head above the magical barrier, and horses were no meant for such poor weather. The horses, along with some of their equipment, had been left in Guanyo under the guard of four men to sick to travel into a winter wasteland. The journey was already days overdue and al-Rahman planned to drop what he had brought, turn around and get the heck out of town before real winter closed in. He had no interest in staying this far north longer than needed. The cargo was paid for, the trip was paid for, all he needed to do was make the delivery.