Suddenly, Grumgh raised his hand in a gesture that looked surprisingly competent.
"Quiet. I hear something."
Tamira froze, listening. Her elven ears, though not perfect, were still sharper than human ones. After a moment, she heard it too. From beyond the nearest trees came muffled grumbles, the clinking of metal, and… loud, impatient stomping.
"Those aren't wild animals," she whispered.
"An accurate conclusion," Grumgh whispered back. "The frequency and intonation of the sounds suggest sentient beings, most likely in a state of severe agitation. The probability that they are bandits is 64.2%."
"And the probability that they have food?" asked Tamira, hope in her voice.
"Statistically, bandits often possess food supplies," Grumgh conceded. "Though acquiring them involves a high level of risk."
"We've already taken the risk," Tamira grunted.
They crawled through a dense bush and peered out into a small clearing. The sight that greeted them was not typical for bandits.
In the middle of the clearing stood a wagon. Not just any wagon, but a solid, dwarven-built construct with iron fittings and massive wheels. It was immobilized, its rear wheel sunk axle-deep in mud. Around it bustled four short, but broad figures. Dwarves. Their long, well-groomed beards were bristling with fury. Two of them were trying to pry the wagon up with a large lever, a third, standing as if on guard with a spear, was poking at the mud, while the fourth, issuing loud grumbles from behind his mustache, was stomping his feet and waving a scroll of parchment.
"…and paragraph 3, subsection G, clearly states that the maximum permissible load for this wagon model on a dirt track is ONE THOUSAND KILOS!" roared the dwarf with the parchment, hitting it against the side of the wagon. "And it weighs at least eleven hundred! This is ARBITRARINESS! A BREACH OF REGULATIONS! The waybill was filled out IMPROPERLY! Where is appendix B? WHERE IS APPENDIX B?!"
One of the dwarves at the lever, red-faced from effort, shouted back without turning his head:
"Quiet already, Bofur! And put your back into it instead of yelling your stupid paragraphs! If we don't get this old girl out of the mud, no appendix will help us!"
"These are not 'stupid paragraphs'!" shrieked Bofur. "This is the LAW! And the law is like stone! Hard and unyielding! And it says this wagon is overloaded! We must immediately remove 10% of its cargo and file a supplementary form F-12 at the nearest district office! Otherwise, we face sanctions!"
The third dwarf, the one with the spear, cleared his throat uncertainly.
"Appendix B…" began one of the dwarves trying to free the wagon, then fell silent under Bofur's icy glare.
"Speak, Fundin!" growled the official, crushing his companion with his stare.
"Appendix B… was submitted for verification last week at the customs office in Garagz. It's awaiting a stamp. The estimated processing time is… fourteen business days."
"FOURTEEN DAYS?!" roared Bofur, his mustache seeming to bristle. "And you, you fool, are transporting goods without a valid appendix B? This isn't overloading, this is PROCEDURAL SUICIDE! We will all go to the dungeons for complicity in a crime against the Imperial Transport Code!"
At that moment, the lever, which the two dwarves had been straining against with all their might, suddenly broke with a loud crack. Both dwarves tumbled to the ground, landing with a splash in the mud. The wagon only sank deeper into the mire.
"Well, that's that," muttered one of the fallen dwarves, spitting out mud.
Bofur made a sound that was a mixture of fury and absolute despair. He began tearing at his beard.
"Catastrophe! A disgrace! They'll revoke my transport license! My children will be ashamed to bear my name!"
Grumgh and Tamira exchanged looks. These were not typical bandits. These were… bureaucrats. And they were in serious trouble.
"Could we… try to help them?" Tamira whispered uncertainly. "They have a wagon. And probably food."
"Aiding individuals in crisis is ethically justified," stated Grumgh, his brain beginning to analyze the problem. "Especially if there is a possibility of mutual benefit. The physical parameters of the wagon suggest that extracting it requires a pulling force exceeding the capabilities of four dwarves of average muscular build. My physical contribution could be a significant factor."
"So you're saying you're big and strong, and they are small and weak?" summarized Tamira.
"In a vast oversimplification… yes."
Not waiting for further discussion, Tamira stepped out of hiding.