Sven pulls Orgoth aside for a moment, out of earshot of the singing hoodlums, and whispers.
“I know you don’t want to stoop to being someone’s torchbearer any more than I want to be their scribe. But I have seen guys like this before. My own brothers acted like this at one point. And I have a theory.”
“These gentlemen are clearly nuts. Overzealous to the point of being dangerous to themselves. They appear willing to take all the risks, while we simply follow along. I don’t know anything about these downs they seek, but I can’t stop thinking about the five of them dying at the hands of some horrible undead, while the two of us make off with all the treasures and coin. A quick and hopefully painless trip for us, with minimum risk of getting hurt, sounds almost too good to pass up.”
“I understand that you aren’t looking for heavy labor, and would probably rather make a name for yourself, but if we do this my way, the worst that happens is we waste a day or two out there, and end up right back here to start something else. I assure you that I am not willing to put myself in harms way for a measly half share, so I won’t be getting into anything overly dangerous, and you wouldn’t have to either. I intend to write up a short contract along our journey, excluding the two of us from unnecessary danger.”
“Does any of that change your mind?”