Hamnish leads the two men to the campsite and tells them to sit between him and Chenris, facing him. After easing his friend to the ground, Barley sits himself next to his companion. "What are you going to do with us?" he asked. "Well, the two of you tried to steal my horse," Hamnish answered, "and I would kill to protect my horse" He let the words hang for a few moments, then said, "Perhaps you can tell us your story. Your whole story, please.
Barley glances at Jim, who only groans in pain. Barley shakes his head. "You'd do the same, wouldn't you, if you were in our position... not to say I'm trying to justify horse thieving...but by the Light that shines no more, if they catch us..." he shudders. "East from here is the river, and if you go south, you'll hit the Road of Ruin crossing it, but farther north, that's the Road of Salt and Tears, and that stops in Arwich." He glances at Hamnish, then at Chenris. Staring perhaps a bit too long at the halfling, as if he's never seen one before... or maybe seen too much of them. "If you're going that way, you might want to reconsider. The whole country was burned down by orcs, but probably in my parents' lifetime, they forced everyone back onto the land to grow food for their armies."
"They know all that, Barley," Jim mutters. "Everyone knows that."
"I don't know what they know," Barley says. Then he continues. "Our village is... was... two day's travel to the east of Arwich. You know, it's the same story. The tithe-takers came. They always come. Right before winter hits. The reeve of our village thought it would be a good idea to hide a grain stash to get us through the winter. Well, the legate with the orcs found it. We don't have a reeve anymore. Actually, we don't have a village anymore. And they chained up all the survivors and marched us on that Road of Tears... the Road to Salt... thank the Light that doesn't shine anymore it wasn't that long of a journey or we wouldn't have survived it. But then straight to work in the salt mines of Aarl we went. They send all the slaves there. Or at least, a lot of them. I guess they didn't need us to grow food for them anymore, but they need the salt. Gotta keep all that boro meat edible, I suppose, after you've wiped out the nearby population. Oh, where was I? Salt mines of Aarl. Yeah. We aren't allowed in light in there. The salt rocks cut us up something awful. Mostly humans. Lots of little folk." He looks at Chenris again. "We all die there eventually..."
"Not us,"Jim pipes up. "We escaped."
"We did,"Barley agrees. "There was a cave-in. Cut us off from the foreman. Of course we were trapped in a tunnel with no way out, we were going to die. But Jim here wasn't going to give it up, and he took his pick, and started in on the ceiling. I didn't stop him. Crushed by stone ought to be better than dying of thirst down there, so I thought. But the cave-in, it collapsed a whole section of tunnel, twenty feet up. I don't know how long we dug, but we got out. Out in the middle of the salt flats. Man were we thirsty. All that salt in the air, salt in the ground. We were sucked dry. But we ran. No one was thinking to look for us. We've been running. We're dead if they catch us and send us back there."
"My pap used to always tell stories about the elves," Jim says. "How they never fell to the Shadow. If we could get to the elves... if we could get to Erethor. We would be safe." Defeated, Jim's shoulders slump.
"Yeah," Barley says, "I don't know how we're going to make it. On horseback, maybe. But I don't think there's much chance now that we'll survive the journey without being found, or killed."
Chenris rolls for insight. Rolls a 9+3 = 12. Are these two above board? Should we believe them? Should we continue to try and find out why they want to go to Erethor? Maybe their purpose will align with ours.
The two men seem sincere, and dejected, nearly hopeless to achieve their goal. If their resignation is a ruse that would let them make another pass at stealing something to get them to Erethor, Chenris can't tell, but she sees no reason to doubt their story. They are clearly desperate, but it's obvious also that they were willing to rob and leave someone else in a dire plight to try and save their own skins.
"An all too common story", mused Hamnish. "But you escaped... That's not a tale you often hear. How many days have passed since you escaped the mines?"
"Four nights... five? Maybe more," Barley says. "All of them running as fast as we could, with no food." He closes his eyes.
"That's about right," Jim says. "So... what are you going to do with us?" He gives Hamnish's horse a nervous glance. Even before the reign of Izrador, stealing a horse was always a crime punishable by death.
The two men look quite desperate, physically and psychologically. Hamnish has seen the wasted look of slaves up in the North, both the farm slaves around Bastion and the slaves in the mines at Steel Hill, and it is a familiar look that these two men share. There are very few under Izrador's oppression who look well-fed, but the hollow desperation takes many forms, whether it be an adrenaline-spiked energy that drives them on and on, or a resigned depression as they just go through the motions waiting to die.
After a confirming glance to Chenris, Hamnish stands up and looks down at the two desperate men. "I am here to rescue a friend. Chenris here has joined up with me after her folk were taken by orcs. We are desperate." Hamnish mused, "You are also desperate, enough to steal a horse to put greater distance between yourselves and the salt mines. We have a bond of desperation between us." Looking at them in the eyes, Hamnish declared, "I beg you to understand that I am in command here. The decisions are mine alone." Hamnish paused, looking for any rebellion in the men's eyes. Seeing none, he smiled and said, "And so I bid you welcome to our little band. He turned to Chenris. "Perhaps you would be so kind, Chenris, to get Jim more suitable for the hard travel before us."
"Everyone in this land is desperate," Barley whispers. "Rescue a friend? From where? You want us to help you?"
Jim looks wonderingly, and maybe a bit suspiciously, at Chenris, quite possibly unsure what is involved in getting him more suitable. He says to her, "Your people were taken by orcs? I always felt bad every time they'd bring the little halflings to the mines. They work us all there until we die, but those little folk, they had a strange resilience. They stuck it out better than a lot of folk did..."
Chenris stands and casts a healing word spell on Jim to heal the wounds he sustained when he fell off the horse. Then she tells Jim and Barley, "I cast this spell as a good faith act that you will be willing to journey with us to Erethor. We will stand together helping you, and expect that you will help us in turn so that we may all arrive at our destination safely to each accomplish the tasks we have set out to do. We would be honored if you would join us.
Jim's face melts in amazement as he feels the pain ebb away, replaced by a warm vigor. "By the Silent Ones! Halfling magic," he mutters. He stretches and tests his limbs, and amazement is written on his face. "Well, I'll be," he says, and to Chenris--almost warily, as if beholding something uncanny--"Thank you, little one."
"Be careful with that magic,"Barley says, his voice catching. "The Legates have ways of tracking people using magic...but... ah... yes, thank you. Journey with you to Erethor? Well, that's where we were headed anyway. I don't know where else to run to. Izrador rules over everywhere else. It's only the elves that are still free. Oh, and maybe the dwarves, eh? But they're buried so deep in the mountains... what do you say, Jim? To Erethor with these fine folks?"
"Absolutely," Jim says, and then, meekly, "I don't suppose you've any food to spare? It's not been a day since we passed the River Orh."
Hamnish cleared his throat. "Umm, perhaps I spoke unthinkingly about our journey. Although, yes, Erethor is any free beings' eventual destination, my immediate goal is the city of Eisin. It is there that I hope to rescue my mentor. After finding him, I would then turn my horse in the direction of Erethor. But not before."
"Eisin?" Barley groans and covers his face with his hands. "We'll all be killed..."
"That's the most likely outcome no matter where we go," Jim says, cheerfully. It seems his good mood at his ribs being healed hasn't faded even with this news. "Now, not to say miracles can't happen... it's a miracle that we escaped the way we did."
Barley says, "But Eisin is where all the orc armies muster to march to the front lines. Do you have a plan for this rescue? Or more people to help?"
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Hamnish leads the two men to the campsite and tells them to sit between him and Chenris, facing him. After easing his friend to the ground, Barley sits himself next to his companion.
"What are you going to do with us?" he asked.
"Well, the two of you tried to steal my horse," Hamnish answered, "and I would kill to protect my horse"
He let the words hang for a few moments, then said, "Perhaps you can tell us your story. Your whole story, please.
Hamnish and Chenris
Barley glances at Jim, who only groans in pain. Barley shakes his head. "You'd do the same, wouldn't you, if you were in our position... not to say I'm trying to justify horse thieving...but by the Light that shines no more, if they catch us..." he shudders. "East from here is the river, and if you go south, you'll hit the Road of Ruin crossing it, but farther north, that's the Road of Salt and Tears, and that stops in Arwich." He glances at Hamnish, then at Chenris. Staring perhaps a bit too long at the halfling, as if he's never seen one before... or maybe seen too much of them. "If you're going that way, you might want to reconsider. The whole country was burned down by orcs, but probably in my parents' lifetime, they forced everyone back onto the land to grow food for their armies."
"They know all that, Barley," Jim mutters. "Everyone knows that."
"I don't know what they know," Barley says. Then he continues. "Our village is... was... two day's travel to the east of Arwich. You know, it's the same story. The tithe-takers came. They always come. Right before winter hits. The reeve of our village thought it would be a good idea to hide a grain stash to get us through the winter. Well, the legate with the orcs found it. We don't have a reeve anymore. Actually, we don't have a village anymore. And they chained up all the survivors and marched us on that Road of Tears... the Road to Salt... thank the Light that doesn't shine anymore it wasn't that long of a journey or we wouldn't have survived it. But then straight to work in the salt mines of Aarl we went. They send all the slaves there. Or at least, a lot of them. I guess they didn't need us to grow food for them anymore, but they need the salt. Gotta keep all that boro meat edible, I suppose, after you've wiped out the nearby population. Oh, where was I? Salt mines of Aarl. Yeah. We aren't allowed in light in there. The salt rocks cut us up something awful. Mostly humans. Lots of little folk." He looks at Chenris again. "We all die there eventually..."
"Not us," Jim pipes up. "We escaped."
"We did," Barley agrees. "There was a cave-in. Cut us off from the foreman. Of course we were trapped in a tunnel with no way out, we were going to die. But Jim here wasn't going to give it up, and he took his pick, and started in on the ceiling. I didn't stop him. Crushed by stone ought to be better than dying of thirst down there, so I thought. But the cave-in, it collapsed a whole section of tunnel, twenty feet up. I don't know how long we dug, but we got out. Out in the middle of the salt flats. Man were we thirsty. All that salt in the air, salt in the ground. We were sucked dry. But we ran. No one was thinking to look for us. We've been running. We're dead if they catch us and send us back there."
"My pap used to always tell stories about the elves," Jim says. "How they never fell to the Shadow. If we could get to the elves... if we could get to Erethor. We would be safe." Defeated, Jim's shoulders slump.
"Yeah," Barley says, "I don't know how we're going to make it. On horseback, maybe. But I don't think there's much chance now that we'll survive the journey without being found, or killed."
Chenris rolls for insight. Rolls a 9+3 = 12. Are these two above board? Should we believe them? Should we continue to try and find out why they want to go to Erethor? Maybe their purpose will align with ours.
The two men seem sincere, and dejected, nearly hopeless to achieve their goal. If their resignation is a ruse that would let them make another pass at stealing something to get them to Erethor, Chenris can't tell, but she sees no reason to doubt their story. They are clearly desperate, but it's obvious also that they were willing to rob and leave someone else in a dire plight to try and save their own skins.
Chenris nods to Hamnish to continue the discussion and negotiations with Jim and Barley.
"An all too common story", mused Hamnish. "But you escaped... That's not a tale you often hear. How many days have passed since you escaped the mines?"
"Four nights... five? Maybe more," Barley says. "All of them running as fast as we could, with no food." He closes his eyes.
"That's about right," Jim says. "So... what are you going to do with us?" He gives Hamnish's horse a nervous glance. Even before the reign of Izrador, stealing a horse was always a crime punishable by death.
Hamnish ponders their reply? Do they look like beings who have been running for four nights with no rest and no food?
[Rolls Perception check: 9]
The two men look quite desperate, physically and psychologically. Hamnish has seen the wasted look of slaves up in the North, both the farm slaves around Bastion and the slaves in the mines at Steel Hill, and it is a familiar look that these two men share. There are very few under Izrador's oppression who look well-fed, but the hollow desperation takes many forms, whether it be an adrenaline-spiked energy that drives them on and on, or a resigned depression as they just go through the motions waiting to die.
After a confirming glance to Chenris, Hamnish stands up and looks down at the two desperate men.
"I am here to rescue a friend. Chenris here has joined up with me after her folk were taken by orcs. We are desperate."
Hamnish mused, "You are also desperate, enough to steal a horse to put greater distance between yourselves and the salt mines. We have a bond of desperation between us."
Looking at them in the eyes, Hamnish declared, "I beg you to understand that I am in command here. The decisions are mine alone."
Hamnish paused, looking for any rebellion in the men's eyes. Seeing none, he smiled and said, "And so I bid you welcome to our little band.
He turned to Chenris. "Perhaps you would be so kind, Chenris, to get Jim more suitable for the hard travel before us."
"Everyone in this land is desperate," Barley whispers. "Rescue a friend? From where? You want us to help you?"
Jim looks wonderingly, and maybe a bit suspiciously, at Chenris, quite possibly unsure what is involved in getting him more suitable. He says to her, "Your people were taken by orcs? I always felt bad every time they'd bring the little halflings to the mines. They work us all there until we die, but those little folk, they had a strange resilience. They stuck it out better than a lot of folk did..."
Chenris stands and casts a healing word spell on Jim to heal the wounds he sustained when he fell off the horse. Then she tells Jim and Barley, "I cast this spell as a good faith act that you will be willing to journey with us to Erethor. We will stand together helping you, and expect that you will help us in turn so that we may all arrive at our destination safely to each accomplish the tasks we have set out to do. We would be honored if you would join us.
Jim's face melts in amazement as he feels the pain ebb away, replaced by a warm vigor. "By the Silent Ones! Halfling magic," he mutters. He stretches and tests his limbs, and amazement is written on his face. "Well, I'll be," he says, and to Chenris--almost warily, as if beholding something uncanny--"Thank you, little one."
"Be careful with that magic," Barley says, his voice catching. "The Legates have ways of tracking people using magic...but... ah... yes, thank you. Journey with you to Erethor? Well, that's where we were headed anyway. I don't know where else to run to. Izrador rules over everywhere else. It's only the elves that are still free. Oh, and maybe the dwarves, eh? But they're buried so deep in the mountains... what do you say, Jim? To Erethor with these fine folks?"
"Absolutely," Jim says, and then, meekly, "I don't suppose you've any food to spare? It's not been a day since we passed the River Orh."
Hamnish cleared his throat.
"Umm, perhaps I spoke unthinkingly about our journey. Although, yes, Erethor is any free beings' eventual destination, my immediate goal is the city of Eisin. It is there that I hope to rescue my mentor. After finding him, I would then turn my horse in the direction of Erethor. But not before."
"Eisin?" Barley groans and covers his face with his hands. "We'll all be killed..."
"That's the most likely outcome no matter where we go," Jim says, cheerfully. It seems his good mood at his ribs being healed hasn't faded even with this news. "Now, not to say miracles can't happen... it's a miracle that we escaped the way we did."
Barley says, "But Eisin is where all the orc armies muster to march to the front lines. Do you have a plan for this rescue? Or more people to help?"