You signal to the driver to stop. The wagons halt and a small, moon-faced man in a bright pink tunic throws open the rear door of the leading carriage. He shouts and curses the driver as he descends the ladder, pausing only to adjust the cummerbund that barely covers his huge stomach. Seeing your men, he lets out a strangled shriek and fumbles for a short sword hanging at his side. ‘Bandits! Robbers!’ he cries, and wrestles to free his sword from its ornate scabbard. A row of anxious faces appears at the wagon windows, but the expressions soon change to a smile when they recognize your Sommlending uniforms.
‘Calm yourself, Yesu,’ shouts an elderly woman. ‘They are Sommlending rangers. They will not steal your gold.’ Laughter ripples along the carriages as the little fat man suddenly unsheathes his sword with such force that he spins around and tumbles to the ground.
‘You must forgive Yesu,’ says the old woman. ‘He means you no harm. “Raider’s Road” has made him a nervous wreck.’
You question the old woman, asking her where they have come from and their destination. You learn that they are a troupe of players and have journeyed many miles from their native land of Cloeasia in the east. They last played for the people of Eshnar, but it was a disappointing show. It seems that the town was as quiet as the grave; those who did come to see them were a sad and sorry crowd. They are now bound for Holmgard, and hopefully a more appreciative audience.
‘Light is fading,’ remarks the old woman. ‘Perhaps you and your men will camp with us tonight? We would deem it an honour, and would be happy to entertain you all with songs and dancing.’ You notice a hopeful look in the eyes of your men as they await your decision.
If you wish to set up camp with the troubadours, turn to 182.
If you decide to press on to Ruanon, turn to 247.