Ashcroft moves to the side of the commotion and shouts out to the crowd, more like a dwarf than a halfling.
Are they all BLOODY DAFT? Have you gone soft in the head? Come, people, look at your very own militia, ganging up on someone asking for help. Are you sure you have enough men to kick a single unarmed man into a bloody pulp? Let's give them a round of applause, people, the brave frontier guards of Fewhope, always ready to protect you from... ah, right. From unarmed travellers. Scared, unarmed travellers looking for help. One scared traveller looking for help, really. Brave and resourceful lads, aren't they? Why should they get dangerously hired, when a robbery in broad daylight is so much more convenient? Shame on you, mister mercenary.
Ashcroft theatrically spits on the earth.
Ah, fuck it. I'll have you know, sir Björn, halfling hospitality still counts for something around these parts. On behalf of Fewhope, I'd be glad to assist you.
And you, mister mercenary? This is the day these fine men of Fewhope are going to remember... as the day when a halfling told you how to be a bigger man.
Shit. Either the crowd's on my side or I'm royally fucked. Still, always wanted to be a king.