((This is another point of view, from the NPC named O, I role played in a small event regarding the life of Wealden and Yllfas characters. This is a story from another point of view from Oaths upon oaths.))
Those yellow forgoils are turning into a bloody nuisance. First the old gafr and his hag killed my men, then he even managed to conflict a wound upon me, forcing me away from a sweet camp I had planned to launch my raids from. And to add more insult to injury, that cunning grey bastard have managed to scramble numerous riders, patrolling the area around my former base, making it impossible for the moment to return and take my revenge. But I’m patient and more cunning than they will ever be. Instead of fleeing towards my homeland and towards Isengard, I went east and further into their country. Their country indeed, after invading and killing numerous of my ancestors, before driving them further west. There will be a reckoning, a bloody revenge in return, but that will be for later.
There are some patrols searching in this direction as well, but they are far away and seems to stick to the rustic roads between the settlements. I feel safe at my current hideout, a small holt with enough trees to hide amongst and a clear view in all directions. Beside travelling in a direction they would not suspect, I have decided to travel only during the night and rest during the day, to reduce their chance to spot me. Also the gods are with me, with the dark rainy storm they have provided, reducing the visibility and covering my tracks. I would like some fire and some hot food, but will not risk it, incase there are a cursed forgoil with sharp eye around.
I need to raid a farm soon as well, since food is low and I could use some herbs for my wound. Curse that gafr for inflicting it, but I will take my time returning the pain, the next time we meet. And how I will enjoy having my way with that hag, maybe in front of that grey devodiad, to make him despair. Aye that will be a sweet payback.
My stomach is rumbling and I should eat something, but all I got is dried up hard bread. My attention turns to the steed I stole and its promise of raw fresh meat to gore upon. It is time to slay the beast and inflict some revenge on the pair that have destroyed my plans. Pulling out my dagger, I rise up and slowly approach the beast, doing my best to avoid scaring it. The beast have only been a pain to ride anyway, skittish and have several times tried to cast me off her.
I suddenly notice something. Out in the open plains under the heavy rain I see a figure, a man looking at the holt I’m hiding within. I’m sure he haven't spotted me or the beast, but something must have alerted the man who just stand there and not moving at all. He is a large man, nothing like me though and he is dressed in the green colors and clothes of a forgoil. He seems to be traveling light, with only a leather armour, sword, knife and a small backpack strapped to his back. And he just stands there, not moving. REGH! Had that old gafr had sent an experienced tracker after me as well? A slight rise of panic is growing within me, maybe there are more and the man out there is baiting me into a trap? Or maybe more are approaching from other directions? I move slowly around to the other sides the holt and to my relief, there seems to be none other around it. When I return, the other man seems to be like a rock, being at the same spot, not moving at all in the heavy downpour of rain.
REGH! This man is a patient one and no doubt skilled at what he does. I cannot let him walk away, if he have the scent of me. That would be the end of my story, which is too soon. The other options is to trick or fight him, but deep within myself I know this cursed fellow will not be easily fouled. As for fighting, I would have smashed him if I had been fully healed. Now, I’m not sure, it seems that the man are in his prime and he have venture out all alone, meaning he have confidence enough to fight whatever cross his path. This forgoil might be as hard as me and it seems fighting is the only way to deal with this man.
I decide to show myself and walk out of the holt and put up my own stone act, to see what the man would do. We both stand there for another long time, REGH! That man is stubborn, giving me nothing to work with. Very well, lets see how skilled he really is. I use our peoples silent hand speech and gestures to the man, asking the man what he wants. And when he respond right away with a gesture that say horse, I’m not at least surprised. This man have hunted my people before and know our ways. Under my breath I curse him, while I signal him that I need the horse to leave these lands and that he should leave as well or die. The man just nod his head towards the south and signal that there are enough riders there to kill me. Off course he knew about those riders, they are probably working together. Then he surprise me by offering me safe passage, if he can get the horse.
Why is he just asking for the horse and why give me safe passage for it? There is something amiss here and I need to figure it out and fast, so I signal him to offer me more than just safe passage. As quickly as last time, he signal back that he would also give me his food and herbs and would return to the farm, instead of following me. And for the first time the man moves, taking off his backpack and takes out its content to show me, before stuffing it back and stepping away from the backpack.
His movements reveals at last why he is acting like he does. The man is still recovering from some kind of wound, at least his left arm seems to have stiffer movements compared to his right. He is in the same situation as me then, unsure if his wounds would be the end of him, if he had to fight. His offer seems good enough for me, food and herbs I need and getting rid of the beast and the man in the progress. Still on my guard and not sure if I could trust this devodiads word, I signal him that I want a blood oath on his offer. Oath are sacred to both our peoples, blood oaths even more so and these forgoils do take their oaths seriously.
The man seems to pause this time, but then picks up the backpack and walks quickly over to me. When he gets close I pull out my dagger and offer it to him, while my mind is laughing if this trick would work. But he shakes his head and draw his own knife and offer it to me. Well it was worth a try and I laugh while asking the man if his friend have survived my poison attack with the same dagger. He does not respond to my taunt, but stretch out his knife towards me with the hilt first. Very well then, I take his knife and slice my arm, before returning the knife to him and he then does the same. I grasp his arm trying to measure his strength, but he is weak compared to me. Still, there are no fear in his eyes. He then start reciting his oath, but I do not care for his words and even rudely interrupts him and tries release my grip, in attempt to bait more information out of him. Then the man seems to use all his strength, refusing to let go of the grip and he swears another oath that I would be killed if I attacked his friends again. This little piss ant wanted to show his bravado? Fine! I pull the man towards me, with all MY strength and like a little ragdoll I draw him very close to me and stare down into his angry eyes and swear that I will kill him next time, if he interfere with me. The man does not reply, but just stare back. This is indeed at hard man, but easily killed if I put my will into it.
We let go of each other and I fetch the damn beast and hand it over, while he hands me the backpack and we walk away in two different directions.
