Trouble in the distance

Travelling further west towards the Capital, you finally start see human life. The first humans you spot are man, his wife and their two small children. They are all looking dirty and somewhat frightened, and you notice that their clothes look damaged and covered in a fine layer of ash or soot. Looking as non-threatening as possible, you call out to the man. He turns to face you, nervous at first, but when he realizes you are human, he relaxes. He pulls his wife and children to stand behind him, and faces you cautiously. You speak with him casually but his replies are terse and clipped, as if he wants to leave and quickly.

You learn that he and his family are refugees. They are survivors in another battle, where his home was destroyed by Vanarim, like you. Noting the travelling pack on his back, you ask him where he is running to.

"Where else? To Morgent." The haggard looking man replies, "The capital is the only place left that's safe."

Quickly bidding you farewell, the man quickly ushers his wife and his dirty children away, leading them down the road while he warily watches the horizon for danger.

You run into more refugees the further you go. Men, women, children, travelling alone or in groups. Most of them, carrying only the clothes on their back. You stop to talk with the friendlier ones whenever you can, asking for little tidbits of information and learning what you can. After numerous conversations, you begin to get a clear picture of the strategic situation between the Island of Seven Stones and the Great Pretender.

The war is not going well. Vanarim's forces crossed the border of the kingdom more than a week ago, and the main bulk of his army has already advanced several miles deep within her territory, essentially ravaging all the land they claim. Morgent has fought bravely and spilt blood for every inch of ground lost, but they seem incapable of mounting a proper counter-offensive and retaliatory action has been token at best.

You trek a few more miles and as you approach the ruins of another village with cracked buildings and gutted roofs, you hear a heavy thundering of hooves that seizes your attention. You hear it from deeper within the burnt-out village and, possessed with a sense of curiosity, you investigate the sound.

Creeping between buildings and peeking around corners, you carefully approach the source of the commotion in the centre of the village.

You see about five or six humans, soldiers, judging by the armor they're wearing, sitting atop horses in the ruined village square. All around the humans are more than a dozen goblins riding wargs, the bulkier and more vicious cousins to wolves. They are carrying wicked-looking polearms, with hooks, cleavers, and jagged iron tips but wear little to no protection. It looks like some of those goblins are even naked. The warg-riders are swiftly encircling them, darting between buildings and leaping over fences, hemming the soldiers in so that there is no possibility of escape.

You recognize at that moment that they are one of the lightning raid teams a refugee told you about, sent in small groups to disrupt communications and harry supply lines.

Morgent's soldiers are known to be the finest and most disciplined on the island. A full compliment of men-at-arms, cavaliers, and auxiliary troops could give pause to even Vanarim's forces, but an army can only march as quickly as its logistics can bear. It is these small teams of a dozen or so lightly armored attackers that are probably causing the gradual retreat.

You watch the human riders form a tight circle, their blades facing outwards, preparing to meet the encircling raiders. Their swords and axes shine in the mid-afternoon sun, but they are outnumbered and their weapons lack the range of their opponents. Their survival seems unlikely.

Do you put yourself at risk to try and help them? Or leave them to their fate?