"My friends and I are looking for a caravan to guard though the Sheer. What can you offer us to keep you alive?"
"Oh. My. Word," the man says, his pale eyes going very round. "I thought you were dead!" He makes an abortive gesture, as if he were about to try to clasp you hands, then thinks better of it. "Sorry, rather. I saw you fight a few years ago - amazing! And-." He stops himself as one of his employees tosses a nutshell at his head. He glares at him and turns back to Duncan. "The name's Sevarr Trim. I'll be frank with you; I know I can't pay you what you're worth. But if you need to get through the Sheer, I'll feed you and shelter you if you make sure me and my goods and my people get there safely. If any bandits have something you want, I have no qualms with you liberating it. But I don't have any spare shins." He grimaces slightly and gestures to the tough-looking man beside him. "Wisco here is coming with us, but things have been bad lately, and I really could use as much help and I can muster." Sevarr looks back over at Wisco apologetically, "No offense, but you've heard the rumors."
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