The next hour's work is hard and grim. Gand, Keith, and Corrigan salvage what's left of the burnt wagon, using the wood from the farmhouse to make enough repairs to get half of the ore shipment back on the road. Throrin's terrified pony is recovered and yoked to the makeshift vehicle in the absence of the oxen. Keith insists that Saula is not bred for such work, and he fusses over the mare. Throrin and Draggert stack the bodies of the dead in the abandoned farmhouse. The sun dips low on the horizon.
Draggert regards the farmhouse when the hauling of the bodies is complete. He speaks quietly.
Draggert: There is Achook Tribe, they hide in tiny castle like this and wait for you.
Throrin shoots Draggert a nasty sidelong glance, looking up from a prayer.
Draggert: Trymak has a soft voice and say, "Come in, please." Then Achook Tribe attack. I like Trymak. I not like other Achook Tribe.
Throrin: What in the nine hells are you talking about? Quiet! You disrespect the dead.
Draggert: Would you like prayer with me, dwarven man? For your dead friends?
Throrin turns slowly to the orc. He lets out a long sigh and seems to make a tough decision. He nods. Each speaks a solemn prayer, Throrin in guttural dwarven and Draggert in even more guttural orcish.
Throrin: May Moradin build your departed soul a fitting body for the next life.
Draggert: May they not be ghosts.
Throrin: Humans, I know you'd rather be put in the dirt, and Moradin knows the dwarves would rather be laid to rest on the stone, but we don't have time. Fire will have to do.
Throrin tosses a burning brand into the building, and he and Draggert walk slowly away from the blossoming red flames.
Draggert: So you are dwarf, Moradin is dwarf god. You could have been stumplike human with facial hair.
Throrin ignores Draggert and goes to help Gand drive in the last few nails.
The group heads along the road toward Drellin's Ferry. They arrive at the small human settlement in the last fleeting minutes of twilight. The road descends into the small town built mostly on the near side of the broad, sluggish Elsir River. Six old stone piers jut from the water, marking the spot where a bridge once stood, but the span itself is long gone. Instead, a couple of long, thick ropes attached to flat-bottomed ferryboats span the river. Brown fields and green orchards surround the town. A group of armed townsfolk stands guard just ahead, watching the strangers approach warily. As they near, a man with a thick handlebar moustache and bushy black eyebrows addresses them. He is wearing chainmail and holds a halberd at rest by his side.
Town Guard: It's late! State your business quickly, strangers.
Keith steps forward.
Keith: I need to speak to Norro Wiston. I was sent from Brindol in the east.
The town guard seems to relax slightly.
Town Guard: Town Speaker Wiston, you say? Oh, all right, then. I'm Sergeant Hersk. I sure hope you well-armed bunch are here to help.
Keith: Charmed. Say, Corrigan, why don't you open up that pouch and show the Sergeant what we've encountered?
Corrigan: Without a doubt.
Corrigan swings a large sack from his back and exposes the hobgoblin weapons and armor inside, including the well-made steel blades of the leader.
Sergeant Hersk looks in the bag, bewildered.
Keith: A nest of hobgoblins, on the road.
Draggert leans quietly in.
Draggert: They do not make nests, Keith. You are confused.
Sergeant Hersk: You fought them?
Throrin: No, we played drums for them and told ghost stories.
Sergent Hersk eyes Throrin with a look of distaste. The expression is returned twofold.
Keith: They were goblins, Hersk. There is no fight. If you are alive, you crushed them like bugs. If you are dead, they took you by surprise.
Sergeant Hersk: Bands of those murderous bastards have been skulking the outskirts for days, avoiding our patrols. It's a good thing you got through it! I'd be interested to know exactly where they were so I can send a few scouts. There could be more. At any rate, go on in. You must be tired and hungry. You'll want to head down to the Old Bridge Inn for a room.
The guards wave Throrin, Gand, and the crude palette with wheels passed, while Keith explains the exact location of the ambush to the guards.
Draggert pauses on his way in to the town, and addresses the guards.
Draggert: I will not put your people to death, Sergeant Hersk.
He grins and lopes away down the road.
x
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