Snippet #2527212

"Are you mad?" Richter asked incredulously, "How about we just go and punch a bear? It'll end in exactly the same way: we'll be brutally murdered and eaten. Sure, I have a sword, I can take a few bandits, but if it took Roland, a legendary hero, ten companions to fight off the Boneshapers, what chance do we have? Besides, the Duke's almost certainly dead by now, not to mention they've probably eaten most of him and done gods-know-what with the inedible parts. We wouldn't even be able to bring his corpse back!" Richter slung his rucksack and began to make his way towards the door, "You can feel free to dive head-first into this pit of spikes, but you'll be diving alone."

Just as Richter had his hand on the doorknob he began to consider what good might come of venturing into the Boneshaper mountains as opposed to picturing how horrifically he might die. If the duke did still happen to be alive he and Rahiq would probably receive their weight in gold for saving him. He'd be able to buy a horse and caravan and travel around with ease instead of having to walk continuously until he found a town. He hadn't a clue what he'd do with the rest of the money, but it would certainly be nice just to have it. Going into the Boneshaper Mountains and living to tell the tale would certainly make for a good song, perhaps one that would live on on the lips of bards for years to come. Even if Duke Emeric had been eaten, as was entirely probable, Rahiq said she'd reward Richter somehow. What if she really was a misplaced noble who could reward him with just as much gold as Duke Emeric? Of course, she could well just be the penniless waif she appeared to be, but Richter was prepared to take some chances.
"Right now you don't have a copper to your name," Richter began as he released his grip on the doorknob and turned back to face Rahiq, "How exactly do you intend to reward me?"