in larger cities but not the rags that Skharr had seen in other, similar villages across the continent.
"It seems like a pleasant little place to live," Brahgen commented. "I could see myself settling here in my later years."
"No palisades."
"Hmm?"
"It has no palisades. No wall, moat, and no defenses. They've become lazy. Eventually, the fear of the Druums will not be enough to drive deserters and bandits away and they'll push through and burn this settlement to the ground. If you were to live in this region, the first thing to do would be to build some defenses around the outside, if only to keep the weaker groups away."
The dwarf nodded. "I think I would be able to turn my mind and my skills, such as they are, to that kind of work. But if there were walls, wouldn't that attract larger groups?"
"Possibly."
The barbarian didn't like that his mind went immediately to what could go wrong for the folk in this village. Perhaps he would find himself in a better situation if he was able to better focus on the nicer things in life.
Of course, that wasn't quite in line with his reality. There would be enough time to indulge that later, he decided, possibly in his old age but almost certainly not before.
Signs along the road through the village indicated an inn where they could find rooms for the night closer to the lake. To reach it, they needed to walk across a planked pier to the entrance, which overlooked the water.
It was an interesting choice. Skharr liked the idea but it meant the rooms were likely pushed out to the back with the stables.
"Welcome, welcome." A stout, shorter man greeted them, stood from his seat on a barrel, and coughed a lungful of pipe smoke. "Not many outsiders come to visit us here but we do have a few rooms available if you have a mind to spend the night."
He nodded. "We'll need stables for the beasts and food for us all."
"Right then, of course. Where did you come from if you don't mind me asking? I didn't see you along the main road around the lake."
"We came the other way," Brahgen answered. "Through the woodlands."
"Well. Huh." The man tugged his beard gently and seemed genuinely flustered by the idea that someone would willingly come through the forest. "What would you do that for?"
"Shorter route," Skharr responded bluntly.
"Aye, if you’re willing to die on the road. I didn't know that any folk of character wandered through those roads. Well, except one. A mad barbarian set up a little farm on the other side of the woodlands from here. I cannot tell you what might have touched his mind to see him make his home that close to the Druums but then, barbarians have always been a little off in the head. Speaking of which, you do seem to be…would you happen to know the man?"
The warrior realized that the innkeeper talked more than he meant to and had allowed his tongue to run rampant before he had an idea of what he was saying or the consequences that could result from what was said. He soon realized how his guest might have taken what he had said if the redheaded giant wasn’t, in fact, a barbarian.
"The farm was mine," Skharr admitted. "But it has been handed to another family who is in the favor of the gods."
"Ah. I see. Well, your beasts should want for nothing as we bring in the freshest and sweetest hay that can be provided."
"Apples too, if you can spare," he requested. "Does this village have a Guild Hall? For mercenaries?"
"Ah, you are a fighter? Yes, you'll find it closer to the road. Not many travel this way but enough for a small guild to be established."
Skharr nodded. "Right. Dwarf stays for the evening. I return soon."
"What?" Brahgen asked. "If you think I'll be hidden in a corner while you find extra work, you're a madman."
He tilted his head and shrugged. "Do as you please."
It was his job to keep the youth safe but there likely wasn't going to be any trouble for him in a tavern this small. And in an area of the village where there were fighters, he was the most likely to be involved in a dangerous situation anyway.
Once it was clear that Horse and Jenny would have a comfortable place in the stables, Skharr followed the innkeeper's instructions to the outskirts of the town where the guild’s sigil was raised