>>5322668>sspel>Ask about nearby settlements, adventurer's guilds, and political/economic infoThe warrior holds his tongue for a while, even after witnessing the berserker’s fate. This lasts until you threaten to cut it out, after having kobolds likewise remove his genitals with their rustiest traps.
“Cooperate,” the half-elf mutters, sounding broken. “There is nothing we know that is worth our lives.”
He glares at you, furious but not as angry as he is dejected. The half-elf is broken, too broken now to be properly defiant.
“Tell me about nearby ssettlementsss,” you say. “Adventurer’ss guildssss… Local politicsss and economicssss.”
The range laughs, while his armoured warrior-friend stares at him like he’s goen mad. Maybe he has.
“We aren’t anybody important. Guilds? You think we’re GUILDED? We don’t know about politics, or economics… Redwell’s nearby. The dwarves ‘own’ the mountain on paper, but none of their corporations has established anything more than a company town or two, last I heard. There’s a few other baronies nearby—Blackpine, Sunset Lake, Undershadow. All small potatoes—only Redwell has a decent army. They’re all under the alliance of the Paladin King of the Silver Order, though.”
“Basssed out of Hawksssong,” you note. You’ve HEARD of this Paladin King.
“Yeah, that’s right,” the half-elf acknowledges. “But they’re too focused on internal problems, from what I hear, to properly watch the roads, let alone crusade on you.”
He shrugs.
“As far as anyone like me knows. This information could all be nothing, rumours.”
“You just wait,” the warrior interjects. “The Paladins WILL come, when they hear there’s some freak playing dragon-king-of-the-mountain up here. IF the dwarves don’t kick your scaly arse first!”
You loom over him.
“If they don’t,” he continues, “an actual GUILDED adventuring party, with PROPER mercenaries… They’ll make you WISH Armod had bashed your fucking head in.”
“Armod isss basssilissk-food.”
“Better fate than you’ll get, lizard-lips.”
It seems the warrior will need further breaking. Very well. You have some frustrations to take out. The half-elf is dragged away, throwing one last sad look back at his fellow, and then you get to work.
