Merchant

AMID THE CHORUS of snarls and growls, the merchant could be heard crying out for kindness, for mercy, for his sorry, luckless life. His pleas fell on deaf ears, his scream rising to a terrifying pitch before suddenly being cut short, alongside his life. Trent felt relieved for the poor man, his torment finally over, and more than a little jealous, too. Such a release would be a blessing for him.

Lucas and his Wolfmen had stumbled across the merchant and his caravan that evening. They had killed the guard in short time, but the trader’s death had been drawn out, the Wyld Wolves taking great delight in torturing him while Lucas rifled through the wagon like a common highwayman. He was in there presently, getting roaring drunk on a cask of Haggard ale.

B6 P4 C1