In fact, "the owner of the caravan leaned over and poured a cup of hot tea for Kerriben - though in a sense the drink was not at all like a cup of tea, with only two or three lemongrass sticks in it, and a spoonful of white snow honey." I've always wanted to get to know you, but the god of fortune, Tymorrah, is of course in other ways favoring me, but every time I have the privilege of visiting the mage Alva at Cape Beach, you've either left or haven't arrived, and you know, as a merchant, my time is always at the mercy of the venerable Woking, and your whereabouts are as unpredictable as the clouds in the sea breeze - but I think I should make a solemn sacrifice to my gods Wojin and Timorrah, after we have left here. See, they made me meet you, or when I was in the worst situation of my life. ”

"You may be exaggerating," the ranger smiled slightly, "Isn't there a spellcaster in your caravan?"

"Of course. "The owner of the caravan said that it was impossible for a caravan that could go to the Wuthering Plains through Thundercastle to trade with the orcs without spellcasters, and that the fierce mercenaries could resist the invasion of a small number of orcs, but the poisonous insects and beasts released by the orc priests could only be defended and resisted by the casters. "They are also excellent," said the master bluntly, "and at least I will be able to return to my house safe and sound, the problem is that I still have my goods, my apprentices, they are the most trustworthy and good boys, and as for the mercenaries I have hired, they are also loyal, and I will not leave them alone and flee alone unless absolutely absolutely necessary—that will cost me a great loss, both in terms of property and reputation." ”

It has to be said that the owner of the caravan is a person who knows how to observe words and feelings, and is good at dancing with long sleeves, and he does not blindly ask, demand, or even coerce their group. Perhaps he was tactfully asking for help, but not so aggressively or pitifully, talking and laughing with them, and making the slave girls play musical instruments and bring delicious snacks to create a warm and calming place. In a cheerful atmosphere—not like a stranger in the snowy swamp, but like a friend reunited after a long absence—the former undead looked down at his cup, and his servants were equally understanding, and they did not offer everyone the same food and drink, as mentioned earlier, the elf's cup contained two or three sticks of dark brown lemongrass and a spoonful of snow honey, and the mage's cup also contained snow honey, but it was twice as much, and under the snow honey that had not yet melted was thinly sliced olives. Peppermint floated on the surface, both of which moistened the lungs and throat and avoided hoarseness, and was the first choice of spellcasters, and in front of him was a heavy and thick glass of mead, a strong winter wine, heated with a few large spoonfuls of mellow honey, sprinkled with a thick mixture of walnuts, hazelnuts and other nuts, stirred well, and then tossed in a thick, sweet butter that might have made the average person swoon. Especially when the cup was the size of Berdwin's head, but it was a great addition to the knight in need of nourishment and calories, and Plum was given a round silver cup with a beautiful carving. The inner layer was gilded, with fine rose petals floating inside, and the caster noticed that she looked at Leona from time to time, and the Norman princess of the Highlands was holding a high-legged porcelain cup, judging by the shape. It's almost not worth mentioning, but perhaps because it doesn't need more decoration to dominate the crowd. It was black, but not rigid and monotonous, but velvety black with peacock blue and crow blue, with only thin gold threads inlaid on the base and edges—a color that was said to be only firing by the Serris. A mineral more precious than gold is used in the firing process, and only one of the thousand finished products can be found to be perfect, and the others are always with regrettable flaws, which are so rare that only direct members of the royal family and powerful lords are qualified to touch and use, and the fragrance of cinnamon rippling out of the cup is simple, better than lasting and pungent.

The food was simple rice cakes and roasted meat, snake meat coated with spices, rice cakes were also the food of the Seris, and the thief leaned lazily, squinting his eyes, and looked imperceptibly at the owner of the tent - he was black like the caster, with dark brown eyes, a flat forehead, and less defined features - Probably of some Thiris blood, Gülen spun the golden cup in his hand, which was also hot mead, but the base was not winter wine but a kinder ale, and it was more suitable for a thief who needed to be vigilant at all times, he raised the cup to cover half of his face, and his eyes quickly touched the spellcaster sitting opposite, the caster obviously had the same idea as him - the thieves really wanted their small team not to become famous because of the presence of Berdwin and the princess.

While many adventurers want their name to be on the lips of every bard, Glenn is a thief with the curse of the god of death, and he just wants to get rid of the bounty of the new Norman king of the Highlands as soon as possible - he is not familiar with the Dragonfire Islands, but Drake, his former accomplice, has described the situation there - Unlike the Azores, which consisted of three large islands and several small islands, the Dragonfire Islands were made up of hundreds of islands of similar size, numbered more than ten fingers, ruled by lords who were not only kings of the Dragonfire Islands but also gods of commoners and slaves - or you can ignore the commoners, the number of civilians in the Dragonfire Islands was very small, and the rest were slaves, and the ratio of the latter to the former was almost one hundred to one. The slaves fished, fished for pearls, planted tobacco, beets, and delicious fruits of all kinds—the wealth they earned fed the lord's treasury, allowing him to arm his armies with stronger and sharper weapons and shields, to hire spellcasters and thieves, to build fortresses towering above the walls, and to buy more slaves.

"You can see slaves in every country, every city, and even every village," Drake said drunkenly after drinking too much rotten liqueur at one time, "but nothing worse than the slaves of the Dragonfire Islands...... Well, you see, whether it's in the Castle of Capeland, or in the Norman Highlands, or in the Azores, or even in the Seventy-Seven Islands. Slaves will always want to run away, or at least they will be lazy from time to time, and when you whip them, they will always cry out, and when the sword slashes at them, they will also struggle. But in the Dragonfire Islands. Beloved, the slaves I have seen are no more than a herd of oxen, they seem to know no weariness, no pain, much less joy, nay, maybe there are still a few times—slaves in the prime of life, gathered together in batches at a fixed time, and then drink the so-called honey water. Urge them to love each other, so that they may give birth to more little slaves, but they are not allowed to have husbands or wives, and after that night the men and women are separated, and the babies born by the women are mixed up and raised together, like chickens or sheep - and that's not all, do you know what happens to slaves when they die? They are not burned to ashes. It won't be thrown into the sea, that would be a waste. They ......"

At this point, even Drake, who had always been denounced as a devil, shuddered: "They will be put in a stone mill and crushed into plasma, which will be mixed in sawdust and dried on a stone slab to make a dry cake, which will be eaten as a reward by some hard-working slaves." Think about it, they are eating their fathers and their mothers...... Eating their own siblings...... Eating his own child who died young...... This is a rare blessing......"

Glenn had to admit that he was feeling a little uncomfortable at the time, even though he and Drake were cruel and selfish enough. Ruthless fellow, but the thought of tens of thousands of humans toiling desperately to eat a bite of their own blood relatives makes even the always bold leader of the thieves unconsciously want to gag - Drake has been to the Dragonfire Islands a few times since then, after all, the lords there are the most generous, but he has never mentioned a word about it to Gülen again.

But for a guy who needs to be forgotten by the entire plane, the Dragonfire Islands are a good hiding place, precisely because the lords there have unshakable authority, so it is difficult for the thieves guild to gain a foothold on the Dragonfire Islands, and the rights of the followers of the major gods are also suppressed there to a minimum, and because the lords of the islands are always constantly fighting each other, robbing the relationship between the islands and slaves, the rulers are quite welcoming capable people to work for them, and they neither care nor care about their past lords, so you may see any face on the Dragonfire IslandsBecause of this, unless there is a hatred that runs deep in the marrow, they always try to turn a blind eye and a deaf ear as much as possible.

Gülen intends to find one or more lords in need of thieves and assassins on the Dragonfire Islands, serve them for a short period of time, and accumulate the reward to ask for a certain red robe, which can be found in every chaotic land, not to mention the innumerable "materials" in the Dragonfire Islands - the red-robes will make a special mask that will cover the face like a real face, unless the master dies or no one can take it if he wants to.

In this way, he can at least escape the eyes of the guild and the new Norman king of the Highlands, and then, he is slowly looking for a way to lift the curse of the god of death - Glenn feels that the guild is reluctant to lift the curse for him purely because his identity and talent are not enough for the guild to use more resources, not that he can't, he doesn't believe that no one has killed the priest of the god of death before him, but he has never heard of anyone being permanently banished by death, only that those who have been cursed have finally escaped its control.

It may take a long time, but the thief remains optimistic, and he has a former paladin by his side who has vowed to regain favor from Tyre, and he doesn't think that Cranvo will be more troublesome than Tyr - and then he can become a member of another guild by his own means, "stab" or the newly abrupt and unstoppable "fine web" of the other two major guilds, and the curse of the god of death Glenn is no longer as frightened and frightened as he was at the beginning, in "habit" Later, he thought it might be one of his killer features.

While the thieves were planning their future lives, the conversation between the master and Kerriben had come to an end, and the owner of the caravan had no need to worry about having to abandon his goods and attachés in the endless snow-covered swamp, and they became one of the caravan's host's guests.

Most notably, they didn't have to walk out of the snowy swamp on their own feet, and the apprentices and mercenaries, under the guidance of the elves, concocted new reed boats, which the Black-footed Halflings could use to move freely across the swamp waters, except that the reed boats were smaller, and the reed boats were now about twice as large and could carry more people and goods. The reeds are used to pull the reed boats, a scavenger commonly found in the swamps, and people call it a multi-legged toad, but if a soul from another plane is here, it will think that this creature is more like a lizard in toad skin, it has six or eight claws, and between the claws there are frog-like webs, and its way of movement is not to jump but to move the left and right paws in turn, and its body is very light. The bulging lumps on its dark green skin do not contain a thick slurry like a real toad but store air, and with its wide, webbed claws, it can run swiftly across the surface of the swamp - if the enemy is below the water, if the enemy is above the water, those translucent nodules will burst, releasing the air inside, and at the same time retract its claws, burrowing into the loose silt in the blink of an eye.

After encountering the giant snake, most of the multi-legged toads domesticated by the black-footed halflings were devoured at once, and the rest were also ridden away by the black-footed halflings, but as long as there were elves familiar with the swamp, they could always find new "horses".

"I thought they only ate carrion. The leader of the mercenaries said in surprise.

"They do prefer carrion," said the elf, "but they also like sour pulp, because it removes excess toxins from their bodies - humans can eat it, and it tastes good, would you like some?" he spread his palm to the mercenary leader.

The leader of the mercenaries took a fruit with a strange face, this fruit called sour pulp was very strangely long, it looked like a small red fruit covered with a strange and dry "net", but as the elf said, the fruit was very good.

"I've never seen this fruit before. The leader shook his head in disbelief.

"They are covered in a green sepal before they are ripe, so they are hard to spot. The elf said.

"I'll keep an eye out," said the mercenary leader half-truthfully, "and we'll have one more food when we pass through the snow swamp again." ”

"It's better not to," said the elf bluntly, "that the average human will have diarrhea all day after eating just three of them." ”

The leader's face turned strange: "Huh...... Well," he pinched his fingers, "I think I'm going to have to get back to my job...... He bowed to Kerribben if necessary, "Please feel free to command, my master has said that you have the same rights and status as him." (To be continued.) )

PS: There is another chapter in the evening, but it will be later.