I had lost track of the days since escaping the Hammerfist holds. The first night, camping on the road, we could almost pretend that all was well, and that this was just a normal scouting mission. At least while in training with the Hammerblow clan, you could count on backup, Here, you could count on nothing.
We split watches, once again guarding each others backs. Eyes would glint in the dark, reflecting our firelight. Animal or humanoid, none seemed to want to bother two armed Hammerblow dwarves.
Several days, however many it was, we came upon an inn on the crossroads. It was, at best, the worst inn I’ve ever been in. The beer was terrible, but at least there was a lot of it. The entertainment, if you could call it that, consisted of The Chicken Show, as well as a mediocre bard. The locals seemed to enjoy it. I had a gold piece riding on the show; 5 chickens minimum.
We never really got a chance to see the end. Some raw recruit, jumped on the stage and made a plee for help. It sounded like the usual small town issue, until he mentioned pay. I nudged my brother. We were cut loose from the clan, and would eventually have to take up some work. This seemed like some easy money. We joined up with the others lured in by the promise of gold.
We barely made it back on the road before getting beset by what, I assumed, were brigands. Brother waded in with his usual gusto. Hammer swinging, making short work of some heavies. I added my own skills, darting in and applying my blades. My way is more subtle than Haemish, but no less effective. Blade and hammer, we worked our way through the assailants, leaving a bloody trail behind.
The others did their parts well. We started to work as a team, like a group of professionals at least. Two of them seemed to have some history together. Not a blood bond, but effective none the less.
After the battle, as we were collecting ourselves, we rooted around in the assailants. There was a symbol, that seemed familiar. I swear I’ve seen it before, but I can’t place it.
We made our way, finally, to what passes as a main town in these parts. We seem to have impressed the recruiter, and secured a place as unofficial guards.