|Cobblethwaite's Companions (l to r): Charles The Mule, Davian Battlebeard, Kirchin, Harry Cobblethwaite, |
Peter Enwhistle (back), Marigold Weaver, Holly (foreground) and Kahl.
Davian wiped the sweat from his brow. He was tired, but satisfied. During the recent cross-river tension with the orcs, the populace of Bendwyn had suddenly decided they needed swords, lots of swords.
As he made his way there, he noticed a throng of townsfolk around the Great Tree and recognised a voice addressing them he hadn't heard in a while.
It was Marius. The Miser, folks called him, although not to his disfigured face. As he drew neared, Davian could make out the hunched, cloaked figure of Marius, flanked by his two servants (or were they slaves?).
He was telling the assembled crowd that after much thought he had decided to shoulder the burden of paying the orc king the monthly blood money that had been agreed.
Davian scowled, his short-lived good mood was at an end. He spat on the road, muttered something about "kowtowing to those no-good green skins" and sped up his pace towards his first pint of the day.
A naturally suspicious character, Davian was sure the usually reclusive Marius had an ulterior motive to his uncharacteristic generosity, but at the moment all the dwarf wanted was a drink.