Druk steps out of the forge tunnel into the open bowl below Worr Croa, where cold wind slides over grass and packed dirt. The caravan waits near the track, bundles lashed tight, iron softly clinking against wood.
Roggo
All is set. The scabbard sits right, and the loads hold. We can move when you say.
He leads the way toward the outer yard, where the grass gives off a wet, mineral smell. Ahead, the cairn path climbs toward the north pass, pale under the mountain light.
Hrokk
You come with iron, as promised.
The Thruhhul giants loom beside the track, waiting by a rough ring of stones. Their gaze fixes on the bundles as the first carts roll into place.
Bruk
The bargain holds if we deliver cleanly.
A gust rattles the lashings and tugs at cloaks and hair. Druk reaches the caravan edge as the load settles, and the long climb to the giants begins.
“I tell them theyre welcome to order anything from us their clan needs for fair trade and even to drink with us if they are every interested in hot food and drink”
SUCCESS (Legendary Leadership, rolled +1)
Druk speaks plain, offering the giants open trade and a place at Worr Croa’s fire if they ever want hot food or drink. The carts keep still, but the mood loosens at once.
Hrokk
That is a cleaner word than most chiefs give. We will take it.
Roggo
Good. Clear terms travel better than threats.
The Chieftain steps closer to the nearest cart and runs one broad hand over the iron rims, not as a judge now, but as a partner counting a fair measure.
Hrokk
Bring iron, bring salt, bring meat that still steams. We bring wool, horn, and stone work fit for your yard.
Bruk
He means it, Druk. Their clan remembers every bargain that feeds the table.
Hrokk
I am called Hrokk. If your fire is truly open, I would drink from it when next we meet.
Bruk gives a pleased grunt, and Roggo glances from Hrokk to Druk, already thinking in ledgers and cauldrons as the first friendly laugh passes between ogres and giants.
Quest Complete
Deliver the forged goods to the Thruhhul giants