"You want us to kneel at your feet and lick your boots?"

Standing as the spear tip of the tribe is an old crone. She steps forward, clearly speaking on behalf of the people. Her wrinkled features define her ancient wisdom and her commanding presence.

"I want you to live. Kneel before me and find salvation from those who would dare keep you as pets."

"You expect us to follow you? To become the pets of another master?"

The Wirrian land speaks with them, whispering knowledge into the Jaec's ear. What were excitable and curious people now have become sullen. Who the Halfling people used to be is no more and it brings sorrow to his heart. Binding his blade in the tattered shawl wrapped around his shoulders, he levels himself to the people. To the crone. "I expect you to thrive, little creatures. I expect for you to find home."

"Our homes are gone, we have nothing!" Dissonant shouts erupt from the crowd. Families turn up in arms, seeking to drive their shoddy weapons into his chest. All but the withered old crone turn red in rage.

Jaec knows that the Halflings were once driven by unyielding wanderlust. The little folk used to be a cheerful lot. Now bogged by humanity's incessant drive for advancement and sovereignty their demeanors have been crushed by the burden ever growing nihilism. There is nothing less to expect.

The crone raises a halting hand, silencing them all.

"We no longer hold any place of our own in this world. We have nothing. No home, no livelihood. We are a people without a single thread to our names."

Lifting from his knee, the wanderer beams with a reassuring smile.

"Seek the highest hills and the greenest plains. Once I deal with whatever it is that comes, I shall find you. Even if you do not trust me, what do you have to lose?"

The little crone faces her people, raising her walking stick and booming her following orders: "Go, my dears! We will flee the oppressive reign of the humans and find a home. Take all that you may walk with. We will find ourselves a new home!"

For a moment, the crowd is silent. Terrified looks are exchanged then drastically altered. Commanding shouts are issued and the people soon take up their belongings. It is not long before they begin a new journey, at the behest of their matriarch.

"We will see each other again, I'm sure." She aims her wry smile towards Jaec.

"Something tells me I will know exactly where to find you. This realm is..." He stops. That something yields certain wisdom in ways that cannot be described. "This realm is certainly asseverating. Go."

Jaec remains. Standing at the peak of a gentle hill, he seeks a calming breath. The excitement is too much. The thrill of this world brings him close to tremors.

The Halflings have all left, leaving nothing but packed dirt and stomped grass. A mix of trails that becomes a mess. It is exciting, to turn the tide of a people for the better. To let a piece of this place exist just a little longer. Resting his hand on the pommel of his blade, there is a comforting in knowing that at a moment's notice, the gilded edge will slice through the air in a crimson flurry.