You explain to Joral that her people cannot be allowed their freedom, as her kinsmen are rampaging through your lands. However, you state that they will be treated fairly, and that, perhaps at some future time, be allowed to work the land if they prove to be pliable subjects. She nods her head, and soon you find yourself on the outskirts of Torchester.
The fields are muddied and put asunder by the passing of the army that has been assembled, an army that, if Joral is to be believed, is woefully inadequate to relieve the Capital and save the King. You inquire around, and find that the majority of the army, save your band, has ferried across the bay and is marching at a leisurely pace towards the siege.
Feeling that you must reach the Duke with word of the potential size of the enemy host, you are torn. On one hand, you have given your word to Joral that you will see her people safely guarded. This fact is further compounded by the reality that Torchester is not set up as a military camp anymore, lacking a dungeon or stockade large enough on hand to hold the nearly 100 refugees, let alone feed them and tend to their needs. Given the animosity towards the Sea Raiders, that would likely entail marching them back to your own lands. Marching back, however, would put you well out of range of reaching the Duke before his men potentially walk into horrendous odds.
You glance over at the bright, informative woman whose fellow villagers you have promised to protect. Sighing deeply, you begin to ponder your next move. It seems your sense of duty has put you into a bit of a bind, as it were.