The Missing Workers
15 Mirtul, The Year of Twelve Warnings (1494 DR)
Phandalin, The Sword Coast
Errich Alderleaf knew an adventurer when he saw one.
The half-orc had worked for him for two days, working alongside the dwarves from Thornhold who promised to finish the task of repairing Tresandar Manor before the onset of winter. The dwarven foreman, Daerwin Beardfist, told him the half-orc’s name was Caradoc. From what the foreman knew, Caradoc arrived from Neverwinter on a caravan just a few days before. He had rented a small hovel on the Alderleaf farmstead with what little money he had. In need of a job, Caradoc applied to work at helping rebuild Tresandar Manor.
But after leaving Stonehill Inn and hearing the half-orc’s footsteps behind him, Errich knew the half-orc wasn’t just your average worker.
“I don’t suppose you followed me to ask for a raise,” Errich asked the half-orc as he turned around to greet him. The half-orc stood tall. His features suggested he had been through enough in his life, yet seemingly lacking in experience in how dangerous the Realms could truly be.
“No.” Caradoc said. “I heard you talking to the foreman at the inn about going north to find out what happened to the wagons of supplies bound for Phandalin. It’s days late, and you’re planning on going by yourself.”
“And I suppose you’re thinking of going with me,” Errich said.
“I am,” Caradoc replied. He looked towards the unfinished manor just up the road. He could even see the tents and temporary buildings where the dwarven workers slept. The work was simple and paid enough, but something in him wanted to do more. Life was always full or risks, he once heard. Why not take those risks and get paid well doing it, he figured.
“It’ll be dangerous,” Errich warned. “There’s been talk of goblin bandits attacking travelers from Conyberry on the Triboar Trail. But, if you’re willing, I can offer you 10 gold pieces and a share of whatever we find.”
“You can keep the gold.” Caradoc said. “Instead maybe you can convince your aunt Qelline to let me stay at the farm for free.” Caradoc didn’t have much money, and he knew 10 gold pieces can pay for his lodging for quite some time. By then, he should have enough money to buy his own place in Phandalin or move on to wherever he chose to go.
“That can be arranged,” Errich said. “To be honest, I could use the help. Meet me here at sunrise tomorrow. Be ready to travel for a few days, just in case. By the way, are you equipped for the journey?”
“I have everything I need,” Caradoc said. The half-orc turned down a side path towards the Alderleaf farm.
Errich watched and smiled as Caradoc made his way home. He definitely knew an adventurer when he saw one. The question was, just how skilled was Caradoc? Errich supposed he’d find out soon enough.
If only his former adventuring companions were around. He wondered what Ghesh Goldscale, the dragonborn fighter was doing. And Randal Sunbringer, Paladin of Lathander. What was he doing now? And, of course, how could he forget Xander Wayfinder the duelist sailor who could outdrink anyone, even a dwarf.
It had been five years since Errich and the others had helped save Phandalin from the Redbrands. He couldn’t help but wonder if they were even still alive.
***
Two days after leaving Phandalin, Errich and Caradoc had not seen any sign of the missing workers. They were going to considering giving up the search when they were ambushed by three goblins soon after morningfeast.
The goblins were armed with crossbows, though fortunately their aims weren’t true that morning. Caradoc’s aim, however, was on target. He shot and killed two of the goblins, alone, one while it was fleeing towards the southeast.
After searching the goblins and breaking camp, the two followed the goblins’ tracks, thankful for the previous day’s rain which made it easy to see the tracks the goblins made.
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