Part 25: Day 51: Ekkill RevisitedIt was a contentious vote, but:
If nothing else, Ekkill's going to feel it when his food suddenly vanishes. What's your name?
Onef. Why do you...
Just wanted to know whose face I'm going to break if things go wrong.
Yikes. This was probably a good idea.
Oddleif promotes, filing out her lacking Exertion and Break.
So does Alette.
Tryggvi promotes for a point each in Armor and Break.
Iver has the kills, but I need to conserve Renown right now.
The prices of supplies here is atrocious, but I still buy enough to last us another three days.
We'll take a bigger haul from Ekkill.
I'm in no shape for a prolonged fight, so let's take what we can and run.
The entire store of goods would take a long time to gather. You have each person in the caravan make a pass through and take what they can. Before too long, Onef has led you out of the city with his trusted fighters. You prepare to leave the city behind.
Outside the walls, things are a mess. Dredge are everywhere. Fortunately, they're going around the hill on which Frostvellr sits, heading south, and show little interest in following you as you cross into the wastes.
You're finally free of Frostvellr, but find yourself facing new problems. You hope that whoever Iver knows at Wyrmtoe is willing to help.
Goodbye Frostvellr, hello frozen wasteland.
Taking a moment to get things in order, one of the Brothers is looking for me.
Oh, they've noticed, have they? We're on the edge of dying daily and you want me to take it easy? Gods, I should be plowing twice as many fields! You understand?
Don't get us thrown out of this caravan, Mogun. It's not just you who suffers!
Right, so you get married? Have kids? Now I'm supposed to settle down too, yeah? What happened to...
The two brothers clam up as you approach.
That's right, I've got a kid to take care of. Cool your head, Mogun.
Hogun departs, leaving Mogun looking awkward.
Rook, what brings you around?
You come running every time you hear yelling? Must be why you look so tired. Look, it's not secret. I like women, Rook. They like me. They like the scar. Feh, forget it. Listen, all this? All this death? Every night half the caravan cries itself to sleep. Pathetic. Come on, Rook. Be honest. This is good living. Half the world just tilling soil till they keel over. What kind of life is that? We're lucky. You could go your whole life with no goals, no purpose, nothing to fight against but boredom and hunger.
Look at it like this. We're fighting to the death almost every day, yeah? You can curl up in a little ball of fear. You can go hide in the woods eating nuts and appreciating leaves or some nonsense. Or you can enjoy the struggle. Know which one I pick. Anyway, just so you know, I'd never go for Alette, promise you that. Or Oddleif. All yours.
You depart unsure whether your opinion of Mogun changed for the better or worse.
This is our next destination. Cross the Nordfelling Wastes and reach Wyrmtoe, a varl town that sees few visitors.
Day 52. Morale is down to average, our supplies will last 18 days.
From here on, there will sometimes be random events that aren't hard-scripted into where they happen. There are twenty randomized events in total, this being one of them.
You fill a basket with food, needle and thread, and a few poultices. The varl growls as you place the basket close to him and walk away. The next day, the giant catches up to the caravan and says, "I will fight for you." His eyes are clear and determined.
Day 53 sees us deep in the middle of nowhere.
"Gods be damned," chokes Onef, standing on one of the carts to get a better view. "Worse than dredge. That's Ekkill."
"Get ready! you shout, turning the wagons to form a wall. With weapons drawn you wait. Eventually, you hear a shout on the wind. "Rook, my good friend! We come to parley!" He throws his weapon on the ground and approaches alone.
Rook! We were good friends! What happened?
You tried to kill us! Just go back to Frostvellr and leave us alone!
Ah, Rook, it's your pretty girl. I'm glad nothing happened to her. With the dredge, I mean. My friends, how could I forget everything you've done for me? Broke into the city. Took my warriors. Took one of my best men! How are you, Onef? Do they treat you well?
Shove if up your ass, Ekkill. If you came out here to kill me, let's get it over with.
Nothing like that. You must think you know me... or people like me. What'd Onef tell you? I'm crazy? I haven't survived because I'm crazy. I did what had to be done to make it in Frostvellr. The only mistake I made was you. What kind of man are you, Rook? You look like an average man to me. A man worried about his daughter, maybe. Just making his way. But then look behind you. How many people is that? They follow you, fight for you. Why?
It's more than that, isn't it? You think everyone was born to lead? Make hard decisions? Who do these people think you are? You saved them. You're a hero. Maybe that's more important than who you really are.
What's your point, Ekkill?
I'm your prisoner, Rook. Bind my hands. Frostvellr is done. I can't survive there, thanks to you, my good friends. You may not have cut my throat, but you sentenced us to death. I don't believe that's who you are.
Is this some kind of apology?
You can't trust me, I know that. Take me and my men, as prisoners, if that's what it takes.
Ekkill looks down at the ground, and the words come slowly to him.
I think we know what Onef will have to say about this.
Ultimately, this is a choice to send Ekkill away or take Ekkill with us, so I will group votes accordingly. If you want us to send him waay, it's a death sentence - do we leave him to starve or kill him on the spot? If you want him with us, should we take them as prisoners or welcome them openly?
Voting will last 24 hours.