Duendewood: Children of Ruin, part thirty-one

It was four hours later when Graznir returned, with Crack-bone carrying a small chest behind him. "My apologies," he said immediately. "The ancestors are... touchy, about their resting place. There was much discussion: who I am, who I brought with me, how many, how many others we might bring home. But they do have some resources, so I can keep my word to our captured workers."

Crack-bone set the chest on the ground and opened it, then called to the workers. "Form a line! One at a time. Come and get yer pay!"

The kidnapped farmers exchanged glances like they couldn't believe this was finally happening, and Azrael gave Tybalt a similar look. Tybalt just shrugged. The gnolls weren't necessarily trustworthy, but they were practical -- and this was a good way to build trust with the people around Aldpond. Plus, with the opening of the crypt it seemed they could spare some wealth. 

It suggested that there were few of them and much stored away in the depths, but Tybalt wasn't even vaguely tempted to go looking for it. Seven dead kings could likely overwhelm them, regardless of what they tried, but also... whatever was down there in the dark belonged to Graznir and his people as a rightful inheritance. Jacques was either entirely too trusting or else he pulling a friends-close-enemies-closer maneuver, but either way... if the Formorians became a problem, they could deal with it later. And if they didn't, well, powerful allies were hard to come by and good to have. His father had understood that.

Graznir and Jacques both watched as Crack-bone counted out ten gold coins for each of the farmers -- probably more than they made in a decade of farming -- and handed it over. Blunt-tusk had shown up at some point, and was standing at the back of the line to make sure nobody tried to circle back into it. 

It was late afternoon, and with the farmers paid and released Graznir turned his attention to Jacques. Tybalt stepped up to listen, but Graznir merely said, "What remains in the chest is yours, if you want it."

Jacques waved that away. "Sol Povos is not stretched so thin that we cannot get by, and you will need money for any rebuilding you do. Besides, I would rather have you feel that you owe us a debt, if you or one of your kin is going to be numbered among my father's barons."

Graznir blinked at him. "As you say, and I hope your father shares your wisdom... and your charity."

"Send word to Caristhium if you need assistance," Jacques replied. "I'm sure my cousins would be happy to assist me in answering any reasonable requests."