Chapter 14: Extradition
Two nights passed and I still haven't talked to every new arrival. Båb and Dodåk manage to maintain some semblance of order as we try to accomodate and employ them all.
Ritharthikthog needs a mayor at this point, and Asmël rose to the occasion until we can hold a proper and informed vote. While he doesn't seek or accept help with the position per se, he doesn't enforce decisions either, rendering his title neither de-jure nor de-facto. That said, I appreciate what he does.
Amöst does not want to be seen as a guard of the pantry, therefore we agreed I will maintain official stock records from now on, kept separate from these histories.
A human has arrived. We do not understand his language, but he was armed with a longsword and shrouded with frayed purple cloth. Now that he has calmed down and holstered his weapon, Asmël and I are trying to find out—
As I was writing, the gallop of horses drew near. Twelve humans, armed with whips and swords, rode a circle around Ritharthikthog. Our earlier guest fell quiet and hid in the excavation site.
One woman, by the name Jeñe, was fluent in Commontongue and explained that they were chasing the bandit Pum-Pik. He had been stealing livestock and even murdered a herder to that end. The thought of a murderer hiding among the children was blood-chilling, but Jeñes manner of speaking was also disturbing. Her tone was vicious, never soft nor grieved. The wide brim of her hat was upturned at the sides, but downturned at the front, giving her eyes a menacing contour against the summer sun.
Then she asked "You don't happen to know exactly where he is, will you?" With only two armed dwarves, we were vastly outnumbered, yet they made no direct demand. Perhaps they had heard rumors of what a martial trance can do to a dwarfs opponents, without knowing that neither Amöst nor Såksël are capable of such feats. Asmël is, and in a stroke of genius proclaimed "A criminal must be judged. Assemble the ting!"
Of course that was a bluff. We haven't had the time to agree on a ting yet. But it meant we could stall and discuss our options. While the humans pieced together what a ting is, the ad-hoc šöfs of the Weary Warriors consulted.
Immediately, we agreed not to surrender Pum-Pik. Even if he is a bandit and a murderer, he has so far made a more civilised impression than his persecuters. We couldn't count on hosting a fair trial ourselves. All combat scenarios lead to unacceptable risks and casualties. Some dwarves could join the humans and keep eyes on the matter, but odds are none would be willing to leave with these strangers.
Ultimatively, we agreed to have Asmël continue the guise of obtuse dwarven laws, with a dash of merchandise to keep them hooked. "The human Pum-Pik has been found guilty and sentenced to a year in the dwarven dungeons!" As we feared, Jeñe took issue with that, replying "The kaiser won't take that as answer. We'll take Pum-Pik to the royal jail." "Hmm, but *dwarven* dungeons have their prisoners make trinkets to repay their debts. Can we trust you to deliver said trinkets to–" A man cracked his whip and growled. Jeñe translated the wordless message as "He comes with us." To my surprise, Asmël didn't even stutter. "Very well! The Empire of the West shall conduct the punishment of Pum-Pik to precisely the intended extent. We will gladly trade our miraculous metalworks when you return him next year–" "Return him?!" "-for the ting to formally conclude the retribution, and handsomely reimburse the kaisers expenses of course! Just as dwarven law sees to it."
Some of the dwarves overheard this and managed to communicate the gist of the agreement to Pum-Pik, who then voluntarily joined the begrudged but compliant humans.
The Weary Warriors dearly need an audience with queen Inet.