"Jazzel's Decision"
Jazzel was a proudfoot. They are a group of halflings that are a little taller than most. With her bouncy red curls she stood almost four feet tall. Her dress was splattered with grease and food stains, but a smile was never seen to be removed from her face.
For more than six months she had been traveling with the Black Talons, a mercenary group working north of Cormyr. She had been living in a little village, running a small pottery shop, when a band of marauding gnolls had sacked the little community, leaving her fleeing into the woods for her life.
She had stumbled through the woods, half dead from her wounds for more than ten days, living off berries and other fruits she scavenged along the way. Fortune had smiled upon her for she had stumbled upon a Black Talon scouting party.
The mercenaries had fed her and bandaged her wounds. In return for their kind actions Jazzel had promised them a year of servitude to repay their actions. It was a hard life, cooking and caring for a band of mercenaries as hardened as the Black Talons, but Jazzel blessed herself and thought she was lucky to be alive and not dead at the end of some gnoll's spear.
"How's that mutton coming along?"
Jazzel looked up to see Rigard, a tall grizzled warrior, walking her way. "Oh just fine my liege," she joked. Rigard, an experienced adventurer with more than thirty years of traveling the wilds under his belt, smiled back at Jazzel. He thought that Jazzel's addition to the group was certainly an improvement. The pair had spent many evenings talking together and sharing stories since her arrival half a year ago.
"Any sign of the Red Wolves?" Jazzel asked. "Only a couple of tracks, but they're more than a week old," Rigard replied. "We're planning to go into the valley tomorrow if the weather holds."
The Red Wolves were a band of mixed band of goblins, orcs, trolls, and gnolls. The evil group was wreaking havoc on the area. Their leader, a vicious hobgoblin named Ka'az, was known for his cruelty and habit of putting his victim's bodies on pikes, minus their heads.
"Well let's hope that you catch the vermin," Jazzel said, handing Rigard a plate of steaming mutton. "Thanks," Rigard muttered, already dipping his spoon into his bowl. Jazzel was busy for the next hour, serving the tired mercenaries their food and chatting to the few men who looked lonely.
Later on that night as Jazzel relaxed by the fire, sipping a glass of wine, she heard a conversation that would shake her body to the bone. She would play the conversation back and forth in her head for days. She was slowly falling asleep by the fire when she heard two voices coming from the darkness.
"You mean to tell me that we can cut a deal with Ka'az?" said one voice. "That hobgoblin doesn't have an honest bone in his stinking hide!"
"I know that," replied a second, much older voice. "But he said that if we leave the area he will hold the Red Wolves in this area and not go any further."
"And you are going to believe him?" the younger man asked. "You know what he did to that halfing cook's village. He wiped that town off the face of Toril. The halfling was the only survivor."
"Now, now, don't get upset," the older man said. "Nobody knows of Ka'az was responsible for that massacre. That's only idle gossip and tavern talk. There are a few signs that point to the Red Wolves being responsible for that town's destruction but Ka'az was never linked to it."
As the two men walked out of earshot Jazzel sat stunned by the fire. Her drink had dropped to the ground but she didn't notice the spilt glass. Her shock at hearing who was responsible for her home's destruction was fresh in her mind. "How could the Black Talons cut a deal with the Red Wolves? It was insanity! The Black Talons were hired by the kingdom of Cormyr to stamp out the band, not cooperate with them," the halfling thought.
For the next couple of days Jazzel went about her business like a golem. She laughed at the typical jokes, responded to questions aimed her way and continued to serve the group three square meals a day. The whole time the conversation she had heard was bouncing around in her head.
The fact that someone in the Black Talons was dealing with the evil hobgoblin and his band of monsters was too much for Jazzel to keep to herself. She had to tell someone. "But who?" she thought. She had know idea if Ly'shin, the leader of the Black Talons, would believe her or laugh in her face and call her crazy for thinking of such a thing.
This inner struggle continued for more than two days. By the comments she heard coming from around the camp it sounded like the men weren't having much luck finding the Red Wolves. From what conversations she listened in on, it sounded like the scouts had lost all trace of the monsters. That was surprising to Jazzel since the Black Talon's were known for the skill of their scouts.
Jazzel seized her opportunity to tell her story when she saw Rigard sitting on a stump polishing his massive two handed sword. Jazzel hadn't seen the man for five days. He was one of the group's leaders and was expected to supervise the scouts when they were out on expedition. Jazzel quietly walked up to the graying veteran and put her hand on his massive armored shoulder.
"Looks like you're not having a good time of it," Jazzel said. "The men have been muttering for almost a week about how the Red Wolves have eluded us."
Rigard looked at the halfling, who was almost eye level with him now that he was sitting. He stared into Jazzel's deep almond eyes and sighed, "Well I think there's more to it than bad luck. Our scouts are some of the finest in the region and for them not to find any signs, at all, is disturbing. I'm beginning to suspect that someone is aiding those monsters."
"Do you think someone from the Black Talons perhaps?" Jazzel offered. She could hardly believe that she had so bluntly stated what had been running around in her head for the past week but it was now up to Rigard to make the next move.
"You mean one of us?" Rigard asked. "How is that possible? We are all well paid for our work and what's to gain from siding with Ka'az and the Red Wolves?"
Jazzel looked up into the dark eyes of her tired friend and simply stated, "I only know what I heard."
Jazzel spent the rest of the afternoon telling her tale to Rigard. She started with the conversation she had that night by the fire and moved to her more personal story about her past and the destruction of her village and her past life. Tears welled up into her face a great many times during the telling of her tales but Rigard was always there with a comforting hand and a shoulder to lean on.
After the exhausted halfling had finished her story the two friends sat in silence for a long time. Jazzel's thoughts were flung back into her past memories of her life and Rigard was simply trying to digest all that the halfling had said. What he had heard from Jazzel was too much. "How could one of his fellow warriors betray the group and the region to a band of monsters led by a mass murderer?" the troubled soldier thought.
Rigard finally broke the silence, "Well it seems that I should take this matter up with Ly'shin. He will know what to do," Rigard paused, "I hope."
Jazzel watched her friend stand up stiffly. Rigard nodded to her and walked into the camp to talk to the leader of the Black Talons. The halfling prayed that she had made the right decision in telling Rigard what she had heard.
Rigard walked passed many of his friends without even acknowledging their greetings. He had served with the Black Talons since its creation and was greatly respected for his firm leadership and honesty. As he approached Ly'shin's tent he grew steadily more nervous. "What if Ly'shin is part of this plot?" he wondered. Where would that leave him? The veteran of a thousand battles summoned his courage and walked into his leader's tent.
Ly'shin was a tall half elf who had seen forty-five winters. He was known throughout the region as a tough fighter with the ability to get a job done quickly and efficiently. His reputation rested on the result of every job he took. The contract to wipe out the Red Wolves was proving a thorn in his side.
"I need to talk to you," Rigard announced. Ly'shin looked up at his favorite commander. Ly'shin was tall for a half elf with short blonde hair and sharp features. The setting sun reflected off his magnificent silver plate mail and his tall spear, resting in the corner. "Indeed my friend, sit down," Ly'shin said. He looked at regard and noticed instantly that there was something wrong with his commander.
"What seems to be the problem?" Ly'shin asked. Rigard seemed to pause for a moment, as if there was something very important he was about to say. "Well sir, I have heard some disturbing news regarding our hunt to wipe out the Red Wolves." Ly'shin leaned forward and looked at his obviously distressed friend. "Such as?"
"Well sir, it seems that certain members of our group are in league with the red Wolves and that seems to be the reason why our efforts to hunt them down are proving fruitless," Rigard answered.
"Who told you this?" Ly'shin asked.
"I'm not really at liberty to say sir, but it seems that whoever might be behind this alliance might also know who was responsible for the attack on Jazzel's village six months ago."
"So," Ly'shin said, standing up. "The halfling cook was the one who told you this news."
Rigard bowed his head, frustrated that he had given up his friend's anonymity. "Yes sir. Jazzel was the one who heard two people discussing the proposed alliance."
"And when did she hear these people talking?" Ly'shin asked. "About a week ago sir, she wanted to tell someone earlier but she was afraid that she would tell the wrong person and put herself and the rest of the group in danger," Rigard replied.
Ly'shin paused for a moment. It was clear to Rigard that what he had told Ly'shin was news to the leader. "Don't say a word of this to anyone else and tell Jazzel to do the same. I don't want this rumor to turn into something that could destroy the group's morale." Ly'shin said, staring right into the eyes of Rigard. "Do you understand Rigard? If this gets out it could prove more dangerous to our group than any ambush could."
All Rigard could do was nod his head in agreement and walk out the door. He had done his part and the rest was up to his leader.
The next morning Jazzel woke up to a shocking sight. Hanging from a nearby tree were two bodies. One, a young man she recognized as an archer. The other body was of Kierth, the head scout, who had been with the Black Talons as long as Rigard.
She didn't question Ly'shin's decision. Jazzel trusted the man enough to know that he would only execute a member to right a horrible wrong.
Jazzel heard the familiar sound of Rigard's armored boots coming up from behind her, and then felt his calloused had take her smaller one. The two friends stood there in the early morning watching the two bodies swinging slowly from the tree. Jazzel closed her eyes to block out the sight and hoped she had made the right decision ...
****
Jazzel was a proudfoot. They are a group of halflings that are a little taller than most. With her bouncy red curls she stood almost four feet tall. Her dress was splattered with grease and food stains, but a smile was never seen to be removed from her face.
For more than six months she had been traveling with the Black Talons, a mercenary group working north of Cormyr. She had been living in a little village, running a small pottery shop, when a band of marauding gnolls had sacked the little community, leaving her fleeing into the woods for her life.
She had stumbled through the woods, half dead from her wounds for more than ten days, living off berries and other fruits she scavenged along the way. Fortune had smiled upon her for she had stumbled upon a Black Talon scouting party.
The mercenaries had fed her and bandaged her wounds. In return for their kind actions Jazzel had promised them a year of servitude to repay their actions. It was a hard life, cooking and caring for a band of mercenaries as hardened as the Black Talons, but Jazzel blessed herself and thought she was lucky to be alive and not dead at the end of some gnoll's spear.
"How's that mutton coming along?"
Jazzel looked up to see Rigard, a tall grizzled warrior, walking her way. "Oh just fine my liege," she joked. Rigard, an experienced adventurer with more than thirty years of traveling the wilds under his belt, smiled back at Jazzel. He thought that Jazzel's addition to the group was certainly an improvement. The pair had spent many evenings talking together and sharing stories since her arrival half a year ago.
"Any sign of the Red Wolves?" Jazzel asked. "Only a couple of tracks, but they're more than a week old," Rigard replied. "We're planning to go into the valley tomorrow if the weather holds."
The Red Wolves were a band of mixed band of goblins, orcs, trolls, and gnolls. The evil group was wreaking havoc on the area. Their leader, a vicious hobgoblin named Ka'az, was known for his cruelty and habit of putting his victim's bodies on pikes, minus their heads.
"Well let's hope that you catch the vermin," Jazzel said, handing Rigard a plate of steaming mutton. "Thanks," Rigard muttered, already dipping his spoon into his bowl. Jazzel was busy for the next hour, serving the tired mercenaries their food and chatting to the few men who looked lonely.
Later on that night as Jazzel relaxed by the fire, sipping a glass of wine, she heard a conversation that would shake her body to the bone. She would play the conversation back and forth in her head for days. She was slowly falling asleep by the fire when she heard two voices coming from the darkness.
"You mean to tell me that we can cut a deal with Ka'az?" said one voice. "That hobgoblin doesn't have an honest bone in his stinking hide!"
"I know that," replied a second, much older voice. "But he said that if we leave the area he will hold the Red Wolves in this area and not go any further."
"And you are going to believe him?" the younger man asked. "You know what he did to that halfing cook's village. He wiped that town off the face of Toril. The halfling was the only survivor."
"Now, now, don't get upset," the older man said. "Nobody knows of Ka'az was responsible for that massacre. That's only idle gossip and tavern talk. There are a few signs that point to the Red Wolves being responsible for that town's destruction but Ka'az was never linked to it."
As the two men walked out of earshot Jazzel sat stunned by the fire. Her drink had dropped to the ground but she didn't notice the spilt glass. Her shock at hearing who was responsible for her home's destruction was fresh in her mind. "How could the Black Talons cut a deal with the Red Wolves? It was insanity! The Black Talons were hired by the kingdom of Cormyr to stamp out the band, not cooperate with them," the halfling thought.
For the next couple of days Jazzel went about her business like a golem. She laughed at the typical jokes, responded to questions aimed her way and continued to serve the group three square meals a day. The whole time the conversation she had heard was bouncing around in her head.
The fact that someone in the Black Talons was dealing with the evil hobgoblin and his band of monsters was too much for Jazzel to keep to herself. She had to tell someone. "But who?" she thought. She had know idea if Ly'shin, the leader of the Black Talons, would believe her or laugh in her face and call her crazy for thinking of such a thing.
This inner struggle continued for more than two days. By the comments she heard coming from around the camp it sounded like the men weren't having much luck finding the Red Wolves. From what conversations she listened in on, it sounded like the scouts had lost all trace of the monsters. That was surprising to Jazzel since the Black Talon's were known for the skill of their scouts.
Jazzel seized her opportunity to tell her story when she saw Rigard sitting on a stump polishing his massive two handed sword. Jazzel hadn't seen the man for five days. He was one of the group's leaders and was expected to supervise the scouts when they were out on expedition. Jazzel quietly walked up to the graying veteran and put her hand on his massive armored shoulder.
"Looks like you're not having a good time of it," Jazzel said. "The men have been muttering for almost a week about how the Red Wolves have eluded us."
Rigard looked at the halfling, who was almost eye level with him now that he was sitting. He stared into Jazzel's deep almond eyes and sighed, "Well I think there's more to it than bad luck. Our scouts are some of the finest in the region and for them not to find any signs, at all, is disturbing. I'm beginning to suspect that someone is aiding those monsters."
"Do you think someone from the Black Talons perhaps?" Jazzel offered. She could hardly believe that she had so bluntly stated what had been running around in her head for the past week but it was now up to Rigard to make the next move.
"You mean one of us?" Rigard asked. "How is that possible? We are all well paid for our work and what's to gain from siding with Ka'az and the Red Wolves?"
Jazzel looked up into the dark eyes of her tired friend and simply stated, "I only know what I heard."
Jazzel spent the rest of the afternoon telling her tale to Rigard. She started with the conversation she had that night by the fire and moved to her more personal story about her past and the destruction of her village and her past life. Tears welled up into her face a great many times during the telling of her tales but Rigard was always there with a comforting hand and a shoulder to lean on.
After the exhausted halfling had finished her story the two friends sat in silence for a long time. Jazzel's thoughts were flung back into her past memories of her life and Rigard was simply trying to digest all that the halfling had said. What he had heard from Jazzel was too much. "How could one of his fellow warriors betray the group and the region to a band of monsters led by a mass murderer?" the troubled soldier thought.
Rigard finally broke the silence, "Well it seems that I should take this matter up with Ly'shin. He will know what to do," Rigard paused, "I hope."
Jazzel watched her friend stand up stiffly. Rigard nodded to her and walked into the camp to talk to the leader of the Black Talons. The halfling prayed that she had made the right decision in telling Rigard what she had heard.
Rigard walked passed many of his friends without even acknowledging their greetings. He had served with the Black Talons since its creation and was greatly respected for his firm leadership and honesty. As he approached Ly'shin's tent he grew steadily more nervous. "What if Ly'shin is part of this plot?" he wondered. Where would that leave him? The veteran of a thousand battles summoned his courage and walked into his leader's tent.
Ly'shin was a tall half elf who had seen forty-five winters. He was known throughout the region as a tough fighter with the ability to get a job done quickly and efficiently. His reputation rested on the result of every job he took. The contract to wipe out the Red Wolves was proving a thorn in his side.
"I need to talk to you," Rigard announced. Ly'shin looked up at his favorite commander. Ly'shin was tall for a half elf with short blonde hair and sharp features. The setting sun reflected off his magnificent silver plate mail and his tall spear, resting in the corner. "Indeed my friend, sit down," Ly'shin said. He looked at regard and noticed instantly that there was something wrong with his commander.
"What seems to be the problem?" Ly'shin asked. Rigard seemed to pause for a moment, as if there was something very important he was about to say. "Well sir, I have heard some disturbing news regarding our hunt to wipe out the Red Wolves." Ly'shin leaned forward and looked at his obviously distressed friend. "Such as?"
"Well sir, it seems that certain members of our group are in league with the red Wolves and that seems to be the reason why our efforts to hunt them down are proving fruitless," Rigard answered.
"Who told you this?" Ly'shin asked.
"I'm not really at liberty to say sir, but it seems that whoever might be behind this alliance might also know who was responsible for the attack on Jazzel's village six months ago."
"So," Ly'shin said, standing up. "The halfling cook was the one who told you this news."
Rigard bowed his head, frustrated that he had given up his friend's anonymity. "Yes sir. Jazzel was the one who heard two people discussing the proposed alliance."
"And when did she hear these people talking?" Ly'shin asked. "About a week ago sir, she wanted to tell someone earlier but she was afraid that she would tell the wrong person and put herself and the rest of the group in danger," Rigard replied.
Ly'shin paused for a moment. It was clear to Rigard that what he had told Ly'shin was news to the leader. "Don't say a word of this to anyone else and tell Jazzel to do the same. I don't want this rumor to turn into something that could destroy the group's morale." Ly'shin said, staring right into the eyes of Rigard. "Do you understand Rigard? If this gets out it could prove more dangerous to our group than any ambush could."
All Rigard could do was nod his head in agreement and walk out the door. He had done his part and the rest was up to his leader.
The next morning Jazzel woke up to a shocking sight. Hanging from a nearby tree were two bodies. One, a young man she recognized as an archer. The other body was of Kierth, the head scout, who had been with the Black Talons as long as Rigard.
She didn't question Ly'shin's decision. Jazzel trusted the man enough to know that he would only execute a member to right a horrible wrong.
Jazzel heard the familiar sound of Rigard's armored boots coming up from behind her, and then felt his calloused had take her smaller one. The two friends stood there in the early morning watching the two bodies swinging slowly from the tree. Jazzel closed her eyes to block out the sight and hoped she had made the right decision ...
****