Apparently this man is named Helm, and he’s a [Blacksmith] from another village nearby. Well, nearby is a relative term. His village is a good fourteen miles east of here, located by a big prairie. It is called Windrest, and it is burning.
I listen in grave silence with the other adventurers. A group of around sixty Goblins had hit Windrest last night. They’d slaughtered a dozen people and torched a few buildings, but what they were after were the animals and winter stores the people had. They made off with two thirds of the village’s goods and a lot of their supplies—and two young women. The villagers had sent word to the nearest town and received assurances that adventurers would be sent out. But the village as it was right now was practically helpless.
“Sire, we’ve nothing to offer you. But Windrest will perish as sure as I’m speaking if the Goblins come back. If you could spare your adventurers to guard us, give us just a bit that we might live, I swear we’ll repay you!”
But still, I can’t give him either adventuring team. Goblins. If they hit Windrest, they will come to Riverfarm. I know it and feel a chill. But the people…
Helm tries to kiss my hands. I order him to get some hot food in him and tell him I’ll send an escort to Windrest. When the man is eating a second meal—he looks half-starved—I glance over at Prost.
Today’s a big day. Just like yesterday. The man from Windrest, Helm, is due to return with his villagers tonight. I sent him back with an escort and the Wildfrozen Riders will have left already to escort the villagers down the road to my village.
“I welcome you to Riverfarm, people of Windrest. Please know that you will be safe here. However, while you stay in my domain, you must obey me as your ruler.”
Silence. Then I hear someone clapping. Prost. This time it’s what’s needed. The people of Riverfarm begin cheering my name, and then I hear the people of Windrest take up the feeling. They shout my name and cluster around me.
“We’re ready to work, sire! I know there’s houses needing to be dug out and more built—us Windrest folk have brought our tools and there’s some good [Carpenters] and [Builders] among us! Just say the word and we’ll do what needs doing, milord! I’m a [Blacksmith]! I have my anvil—I’d sorely love to ply my trade here, if your lordship’s willing?”
I walk away from the group and watch Prost get to work. He’s efficient. The people of Windrest know what to do, and when he tells them where to put their belongings and what needs doing, experienced workers like the [Carpenters] immediately peel off and get to work on the felled trees, while other [Woodcutters] grab axes and head towards people cutting.
“Trouble, your majesty. Windrest was mostly devastated, but it’s hardly the only village. I met a group of travelers on the road heading straight for Invrisil—they say their village was attacked and torched. The Goblins took everything and slaughtered everyone they caught. They’re killing this time, not just raiding.”
I hear a squawk as another group of rats makes it to the surface to be pounced upon by the dogs the villagers of Windrest brought with them. I look over and hear fluttering wings.
“The people of Windrest, silly! You promised to keep them safe, remember? It’s as good as being protected by a [Lord], they say, only you’re real. I don’t think they’d go anywhere even if the Goblins were gone.”
