Our venture into the Lone Lands has been eventful for sure.
We arrived at an inn of sorts in the Lone Lands just off the main road at evening. The Forsaken Inn it was named... Perhaps because the innkeeper had outright forsaken the building as it was in disrepair and half the roof had collapsed at one point, the windows were smashed and the place just looked in a poor state indeed.
There were several hardy people at the porch who gave us odd looks, though for the most part we fitted right in with these travellers, vagabonds and homeless men. Our attire was rough from many days of hard travel and the grim look about us made us more or less welcome among these forsaken people.
We sat down around one of the empty tables and ordered drinks, a big mistake! For the drinks were watered down with old water and tasted rather foul. Though I was thirsty so I downed the drink, perhaps another big mistake. For I feel rather ill as I write this and might just throw up all over my journal if I am not careful.
We talked amongst each other about our plan. We were given a tip off that brigands roamed the hills not too far from the inn, and that they could have very well been in allegiance to Sharkey. Indeed, we were pressing hard on the enemy now and I very much feel like we were on the attack once again.
Despite the general sense of mistrust among the people here, we spoke perhaps a bit too loudly as a rather nosey Dwarf had overheard our entire conversation. He introduced himself as Garram and told us some rather concerning news. A trade wagon that was bound to Ered Luin laden with goods had gone missing, it was bound to stop perhaps at this very inn but it had not come. He was convinced that our business was somewhat connected to his as the brigands around these parts were very keen to hold up caravans and ransack them for whatever they could find.
Garram seemed like a hardy Dwarf, he carried a crossbow on his back and looked as though he has been involved in many fights. We accepted his deal to aid us track down this caravan in the hopes that we find more clues of the whereabouts of these brigands.
We ventured off into the wilds and came across a dried riverbed, there were clear tracks that a wagon had been through there not too long ago. We proceeded up through a wide gully that lead to the abandoned settlement of Minas Eriol. Though we needed not to travel that far... For we found yet more tracks of the wagon.
Garram stooped low to pick up an ingot of iron, we knew then that we found our quarry. The wagon was stolen and taken up into the gully and its goods were stolen by brigands as we thought...
we gazed down upon a crudely set up campsite down below the bank we had stood upon. One of the men had come up towards us, he wore a Dwarvish helmet and carried with him a blade, he was clad in mail and looked like he was ready for a fight.
He gave us a sea of insults and boasts, I was ready to cleave the bugger with my blade, if it were not for the respect I had for my Captain, I would not have helped myself to this fiend's challenges.
I will admit this now. I am no diplomat, some people understand only threats and fights. These brigands were not going to be talked into giving back the Dwarven cargo.
Tensions rose and the Brigand's fiends arrived carrying axes, knives and clubs ready to see us off. Garram had lost his nerve and fired a crossbow bolt straight into one of them. A battle ensued and we fought them off. Though there was no song or cheer for our victory against them... I begin to wonder now if the fight was really necessary...
Agacyra looked horrified that we had killed a man like so. And she was right to be so. These were no willing bandits of Sharku, we should not be so keen to shed blood in judgement. For we may be able to deliver death, but we cannot bring them back...
It was interesting to note that the rough blighter that met us first had realized the error of his ways. Or at least realized who exactly he was working for. He introduced us as Remdir. His 'boss' was quickly dispatched and he decided better than to work with such dark overseers.
He was no hero I shall say... And nor were we, we had just done battle with people who weren't really our enemy. They were unfortunate souls from the South who were dragged in with the wrong crowd. Willingly or not so...
