Choice 2. Help repair the wagon?

Back stiff as a post, he strode away to see what could be done about the wagons. Bad enough to be stuck out here with goblins on their trail without being bogged down as well. The orcs that were gathered around the damaged cart ahead of him, a small knit family with one little orkin, a heavyset woman with grey hair in her bun, and a muscular male in brown leather work clothes that sat trying to mend the wheel. The flow of people that swept past, all but focused on reaching safety, that they ignored the family, except for other wagon drivers that scowled darkly, unable to go around.

Eyes hard as steel as he saw a party of big warriors push their way through the crowd, Gregor could smell trouble a mile away, and quickly hurried forward.

Sword flickered out from its sheath in an instant, he growled and shoved his way through the tightly packed mass of bodies, the threat of bared steel enough to open him a path, when he heard a scream. The ax swing that was meant to kill the farmer from behind, who still hadn't noticed the danger to his life, parried at the last second by Gregor's blade, before he hacked off the offending appendage with a snarl.

Flame-colored eyes widened in shock, the orc stared at the stump of his bleeding arm, when Gregor booted him back to join the others, a mixed group of minotaurs, humans, and angry orcs, led by a sullen faced vancloren merchant in brocaded purple robes. The familiar pale green skin and golden eyes of a vampire, easy enough to identify as he stepped in between the family with drawn steel.

Voice a croaky rasp, the vampire growled, "step aside, human, our business is not with you."

Expression cold as deep winter, Gregor smiled back. "You just made it my problem. Either you walk away or you die."

Hands reflexively held up in a placating motion, the merchant rubbed the sweat from his brow, and placed an ingratiating smile on his lips. "Now, now, there's no need for that. We are all friends here. We only wished to move the wagon aside, so we can leave this place. Please, you must realize the longer we stay here, the more dangerous it will become for us."

(Start counting.)

Face dark with menace, Gregor started to count, "one...two...three--"

"--I would, ah, tread very carefully here, mercenary, I have very powerful friends."

"Four--"

Sweat beaded on his bald scalp, the vampire wiped a hand across his face, golden eyes darting left and right. "Well! Do something! I didn't hire you fools to just stand around!"

But one look at their wounded friend who still moaned in pain, and they turned tail and fled, leaving the merchant all alone, before he too turned and ran.

The voice he heard from behind him, deep and strong. "Thank you, stranger. I do not know what would have happened if the fates had not intervened."

Head turned to look over his shoulder to see the craggy features of an orc that had worked the soil his entire life, Gregor looked down at the child hidden behind him. The young orkin, no more than two or three years old as the mother with unshed tears in her blue eyes, whispered, "thank you," as well, before Gregor walked away. (Commended for your service, you've been paid an additional ten gold pieces by the quartermaster.)

+1 Morale.

+10 GP.

Move onto the next Scenario.

(Help the merchant.)

Not in the least bit surprised, that the merchant cared more about his own life than anyone else, Gregor grunted, "how much?" And felt the orc tense up behind him, before Gregor spun around, and clobbered him on the jaw, leaving him dazed with the mother wailing again, her child clutched tight to her chest as she stared up at him like he was a monster.

The merchant however unfazed by the cries, watched the passing crowds that tried to avoid his eyes, and replied, "fifty gold pieces."

(Accept.)

Head nodded in agreement, Gregor slammed a boot into the farmer's ribs for good measure, before he hauled him away. The hired swords that worked for the merchant, quick to help Gregor as they hustled the family away, before they returned to shove the wagon off the road.

Gold pouch pushed into his hands once the job was done, Gregor turned to leave, and despite knowing better, he glanced back at the family on the roadside, and felt a dull ache at the tearful faces that were imprinted into his memory. But so it had to be. (You've gained your first infraction, break the law again, and you will be forced to pay a fine of 100 Gold Pieces. If you're unable to afford such a fine, you will be summarily executed for failure to obey.)

+50 GP.

Move onto the next Scenario.

(Kill them.)

Eyes tightened into small slits of anger, Gregor knew he could not go through with the deal, leastwise not for that sum of money, and with that decision made, he snarled, and danced in among them, sword a blistering flash of light. The clunky poorly armed bodyguards no match for Gregor as he deflected a minotaur's hacking thrust, severed his spine, and killed two more with strokes to their jugulars.

The rest of the cowards who saw how quickly their friends had fallen, ran away, leaving the merchant all alone, staring around him with growing horror, his yellow eyes filled with terror, before Gregor planted his sword in his chest, and kicked him down to join the others.

But if he expected thanks for his sudden backflip, all he got were angry glowers, and sullen looks. Not that he had expected much different. The guards that had been alerted at last, rushing in from all sides as Gregor vanished into the crowd. (In light of your recent aid to the Legion, this matter will be overlooked, so long as it does not happen again.)

Move onto the next Scenario.

(Kill them.)

Eyes tightened into small slits of anger, Gregor knew he could not allow them to live, and with that decision made, he snarled, and danced in among them, sword a blistering flash of light. The clunky poorly armed bodyguards no match for Gregor as he deflected a minotaur's hacking thrust, severed his spine, and killed two more with strokes to their jugulars.

The rest of the cowards who saw how quickly their friends had fallen, ran away, leaving the merchant all alone, staring around him with growing horror, his yellow eyes filled with terror, before Gregor planted his sword in his chest, and kicked him down to join the others.

But if Gregor expected thanks for siding with them, all he got was fearful glances as they tried to shield their child from the bloody corpses. The guards that had been alerted to the bloodshed, rushing in from all sides as Gregor vanished into the crowd. (In light of your recent aid to the Legion, this matter will be overlooked, so long as it does not happen again.)

Move onto the next Scenario.