“Halt!” the human said. He was armored in simple studded leather, and waving a sword. His helmet was odd, showing his forehead. The half-orc noted that there was a brand that said ‘thief.’
Delegado slowed his horse, and took stock of the ten men before him. “And why are Aundarian dregs so far from home halting a blood son of House Tharashk?”
“Because we are here to rescue you from the scourge that is now or momentarily will begin to destroy your village!” It sounded badly practiced.
“Aye!” the other men called out.
“Hunh,” Delegado said. He could sense the man’s nervousness. The other brands also read thief, except for one that read ‘rapist.’ He nodded to himself. “Reject squadron, is it?”
“We have escaped out former masters and we seek to aid you!” the man said. “Prove that you do not threaten us by putting your bow down and getting off your horse!” Feather screeched at the man. “And, um, tell your bird to be quiet.”
“Not a ranged weapon among you,” Delegado said, taking his bow off his shoulder. “And range beats numbers, every time.”
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