Drawing your weapons, you order the assembled men to hand over their supplies. Your mission is far too important to let these villagers endanger it with their hoarding. Any edge you can get in the fight to come must be secured at any cost.

One of the villagers lashes out in anger, brandishing a dagger he had concealed in his flax sleeves. You effortlessly cut the man's hand off at the wrist and level your weapon at him. The man screams in pain as he sinks to his knees, cradling the stump. The others cautiously take a step back, raising their arms in submission. You proceed to take what you need from the supply stash before heading back out into the storm.

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