DAY 1
Weather: Overcast with morning fog
Time: Mid-day


Jorr's Cabin

Jorr listens intently as Novalis and Telrayel explain their mission, his expression remaining unimpressed and somewhat irritable. His gaze shifts from Novalis to Telrayel, his eyes narrowing slightly as if assessing their words and intentions.

After a moment of silence, Jorr responds gruffly, his voice tinged with a mix of skepticism and begrudging acknowledgment. "Hobgoblins in Vraath Keep, you say? That's troubling news indeed. Those bastards are nothing but trouble." He spits again to the side, his disdain for the hobgoblins evident.

Jorr crosses his arms, leaning back against the wall of his cabin. "I've seen signs of increased activity in these woods, more than usual. Tracks, broken branches, and the like. Seems like you might be onto something with your warband theory."

He then turns his attention to Telrayel, his gaze softening just a fraction. "And you're right about the woods. Can't have those hobgoblin scum ruining my backyard. It's bad enough dealing with the usual critters without adding an army of them to the mix."

Jorr sighs heavily, a rare moment of contemplation crossing his weathered face. "Alright, I'll help you out. But I'm not doing this for you or the town's authorities. I'm doing it for these woods and to keep the peace around here. I can show you the way to Vraath Keep, point out some of the signs I've seen. But once we're there, you're on your own. I'm no babysitter, and I don't do well with company."

With that, Jorr seems ready to lead the way, his hunting dogs now calmer but still watchful. He steps off the porch, signaling for you to follow. As he walks, he mutters under his breath about the nuisances of hobgoblins and the incompetence of town authorities



The Dawn Way

Henrick, looking pleased as punch at Ringel's compliment on his pie, wipes his hands on his trousers before responding with his characteristic country charm. "Oh, I'm right glad ya like it! Ma's recipe, that is. Never been to the Gap m'self, but sounds like a right nice place, especially with all them orchards and apples. I'd surely like to try some of your ma's cookin' someday. Sweet stuff, you say? Sounds delicious, it does!"

His face lights up at the mention of possibly being repaid in kind. "Well, now, that'd be somethin'to look forward to, wouldn't it? Always good to try new things, especially when it comes to food. Don't you worry, I'll be remindin' ya!"

He chuckles softly, then leans in a bit closer, his expression turning to one of gentle amusement. "As for 'peckish', it's not about quarrelin'. It's just a way of sayin' you're a bit hungry, like when your stomach's grumblin' and you could do with a bite to eat. It's one of them words we use 'round here. Always funny, the different ways folks talk about the same thing, ain't it?"

Henrick's eyes twinkle with good-natured humor as he shares this little piece of local vernacular, clearly enjoying the exchange. He continues, "But hey, if you're still peckish – I mean, a bit hungry – after that slice, there's more pie where that came from. Ma always says it's best to travel on a full stomach."

As he talks, his relaxed and friendly demeanor makes the conversation feel like a cozy chat between old friends. It's clear that Henrick's simple yet genuine nature adds a touch of homey comfort to the journey, making the wait not just bearable but downright enjoyable.