Choice 1. Alert the guards about the slavers?

Almost questioning his own sanity for even bothering to waste more time on this, Gregor took a look around the quiet village. The fresh scent of manure and bales of hay thick in the air as wagon drivers trundled through the streets, dragged in by borels that were essentially green-scaled bears that had round white eyes, and fangs the size of daggers. Usually placid creatures, they had a fair degree of intelligence and were often treated as part of the family.

Head turned to follow one such wagon down the street, he saw the driver, a robust orc in tight-fitting breeches and shirt, drop down to speak with one of the guards. A tall, straight-backed soldier with long golden hair, fair blue eyes, and a clean red uniform that had medals on the collar that marked him as an officer.

The orc clearly agitated by something he had seen, wrung his hands in frustration. "Blasted hell! Surely there must be something you can do, soldier! This is the fourth time I've been stopped on the road. It's bad enough my wagons are attacked by goblins, but these bandits take most near everything I have, except for my sweet Shianti." The weathered orc making it clear that he was speaking about the borel as he rubbed her neck, and she nuzzled his chest.

Face a mask of patience drawn thin, the red uniformed officer shook his head, his blues eyes unable to hide his boredom as he spoke by recitation. "I am sorry, sir, but by order of the Grand Council, we cannot venture beyond the village. For your own safety and that of your loved ones, join one of the caravans that travel through here, and stay on the King's Road."

But if the answer was supposed to appease the blunt-nosed orc, it had the opposite effect with the driver throwing his hands up in the air. "By the blasted light and the accursed Lightbearer! We haven't seen a caravan in weeks! How long am I supposed to stay here waiting?! I ask you that! How long?!"

"I am sorry, sir, but there is nothing we can do."

Hands wrung dry in frustration, the orc jumped back on his cart, growled another oath about the uselessness of staying here, before heading off with a curse, the wagon's wheels bumping along the surface.

Close enough to hear the soldier sigh, and rub a hand to his temples, Gregor wondered if it would not be better to head to the inn, when the man looked up at him, and said, "Oh good, another outlander, that's just what I needed. What can I do for you?"

The disgruntled tone of his voice suggesting he would rather be anywhere else, but Gregor had more pressing concerns on his mind. "Guessing by that look on your face, I'd say you probably know about the slavers. Seems like there's a lot of problems in these parts."

Face crinkled up into a wry chuckle, the man shook his head. "If only you knew the half of it. I've had complaints from just about everyone here. The goblins have stolen my sheep. The pixies keep annoying the borels. The hobs are digging through the granaries. And on and on the list goes. You know I actually signed onto this post, because I thought it would be quiet. But now all I get is complaints."

Letting out another heavy sigh, the man scrubbed a hand through his long golden hair, before he met Gregor's gaze, and asked, "so what did you want, outlander?"

Lytan who seemed equally confused, drawing an eyebrow up, when Sara woke, the little girl, wriggling around to get a better look at the village as Gregor replied, "just that you have one less problem to deal with I suppose. The slavers are gone or what's left of them."

Blue eyes hardened into stone, the man's face darkened with worry, before he drew in closer to Gregor, and looked around to make sure no one was near them. "I'd suggest you leave, outlander, and as soon as you can. And don't mention this to anyone else, if you want to stay alive."

The soldier then looked around again, and hurried off with a warning glance in Gregor's direction as if afraid Gregor would follow him.

An odd fellow, if ever Gregor had met one, and yet the fear he had heard in the man's voice had seemed real. It made him wonder how deeply the Blood Rings were entrenched in Orkeylium? If so, perhaps it would be best if he left sooner than he had planned.

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