Against the Forces That Would Threaten Us

Demalo cursed, realizing too late how winded the trip downhill had made him, or perhaps how tired he still was from his earlier mad dash.

Tav had her Admantine scimitar in one hand and a makeshift torch in the other. "Whoever you are step into the light with your hands raised. Explain yourself."

He acquiesced and did as he was told, first raising his hands and then taking cautious steps toward the light. His figure soon came into view for all to see. He was a modest and not very imposing young man, wearing a simple black cloak over travel clothes. He possessed no obvious weapons, and save for fisticuffs, or perhaps a spell, he didn't appear to be very capable of harming anyone.

I don't have my dagger, Demalo suddenly thought as his eyes glanced over the tiefling's blade, which he noted seemed rather comfortable in her hand, I must have dropped it when I ran.

As they beheld him, he immediately began to survey the group, doing so as quickly as possible in hopes of avoiding being seen as belligerent. They were mostly a mix of hard eyes and tense stances, each member bracing for trouble or weighing his intentions. He noted their weapons, their varying outfits, the way they stood, and came to the conclusion that his, Baelen, and Warren’s assumptions before were accurate; everyone here seemed extremely capable.

Not a problem. It’s only my life at stake here.

His brows furrowed with what he hoped the camp's sentries saw as intense focus rather than frustration or anger, “My name is Demalo Harrieta.” He let that sit for a moment, pausing with his hands raised. If these people were also from Waterdeep, they might be familiar with the Harrieta family, and the many crimes attributed to them. Even so, Demalo would not shy away from his heritage, ultimately believing that its revelation would receive a much more fair reaction as an early statement rather than a late surprise.

“I was a member of a caravan with orders from the Lord’s Alliance to travel to Neverwinter. On the road, we were beset upon by roving bandits. Organized, capable bandits,” His tone grew stern, “There were few survivors.”

Demalo put faith in the emotion behind his appeal, taking a step toward the scimitar-wielding tiefling, hoping a show of confidence in his intentions would make his words seem more sincere.

“There is only myself, and two other survivors who are on the hill behind me, all of us exhausted and shaken. We seek shelter, for the night at least. But—the three of us alone will never reach Neverwinter considering the threats in this region, and likewise there is no guarantee that our path back to Waterdeep will be safe. The bandits may have already begun to encircle us. And so I ask to join your caravan, and band together against the forces close and far that would threaten us.”