Riders!

The caravan of traders advanced slowly in the mountain pass of Zäghal, with the carts rolling slowly, and the burdened mules walking, lead by the guides.

It was then, when nervous, somebody yelled the signal of alert.

The hired escorts of the caravan quickly drawed their swords.

"What is happening?" asked one of the escorts to one of the cartmen.

"riders!" he answered.

It have been sighted a group of armed horsemen, galloping in direction to the caravan, and soon this make nervous the people of the caravan.

"Bandits?" asked one, nervous.

"Maybe it is a feudal lord? I thought we already had paid the tolls!"

"Maybe some new bandit lord decided to make his fortress up there" said annoyed a trader, thinking annoyed of paying even other tax.

The riders where, however, very few: only four horsemen, who came from the east, keeping their distance.

"Somebody should ask them what they want" said nervous an old cooper.

The hired escorts looked at each other. "I don't want a spear in my throat" quickly said one.

"Leave it to me!" said one swordmam "I have some diplomace skill levels, and I feel lucky today for my charisma rolls."

Smiling, he went forward to meet with the riders, leaving the other escorts confused.

"What the hell did he say?!"

"No idea. Better him than us" said other of the mercenaries. "Better to asume our defensive possitions. Just in case!"

---

As Bog walked forward, one of the riders came closer to him.

"Good day, sir!" said Bog, who had already tested how quickly he can draw his sword. "What business bring you there?"

The horseman looked down at him from the back of his horse.

"We are looking for a wanted criminal" he said.

"...and who do you say you are?"

"It's not your business"

"Well, as guard and escort of this caravan, IT IS EXACTLY my business. So you are?"

"I should stake you to the ground." said the horseman, impatient.

Bog quickly drawed his sword, with a cold expression in his eyes. This make the horseman change a bit his attitude.

"We are guardsmen of they valley of Fronhost. We are looking for a dangerous criminal, we know it in this caravan."

"From the valley? Wow. It must surely be a dangerous criminal and a great reward for him!"

"It's for her, not him" said the guard. "It's not much of a reward, but is personal. The crazy hooker killed one of our men before escaping, and it's wanted as well for the assault of the local innskeeper and relations with wild werewolves."

"Sounds dangerous" said Bog. "So who is this woman you are looking for?"

"Bogilla Sybill’innu. It's a quarter human slut, with elven ancestors, dark hair and a dangerous attitude. We have been following her as she tried to escape to the dwarven city of Fornhost, but as we where there before she, she headed to the mountains, before joining this caravan."

Bog shifted his weight from one leg to other. The guardsmen, thinking that the mercenary was delaying them, trying to gain something, added.

"If you want gold, we can give you a share of the reward. Ten silver coins." said the guardsmen. "We know she is in this caravan, so you should just hand us the girl.

"I'm afraid you aren't anymore in your lands, guardsman" said Bog, with a cold tone of voice. "So I suggest you to go home now, or leave your bones here in the snow."

"What is your problem? She is a criminal, wanted by the justice!"

"Well, If she is in my caravan, she hadn't done nothing on it. This isn't your valley, soldier, but the mountains. There doesn't matter your law."

As Bog said this, he pointed his sword toward the confused guardsmen. Often, mercenaries and escorts would be happy to earn some extra silver, and wouldn't oppose some armed horsemen!

But now, with a sword pointed to his face, he doubted, before turning back with his horse.

"We will be back" he said. "And you will regret this" he thought.

Meanwhile Bog, thought that he really need to speak with this daughter he just found out he have.

"Man, parenthood is hard." he thought.

---

Horses, horses. It's so difficult to draw them! ;___;

This horse look like made of wood