3. Wyvern Tor

Redhawk will step forward and address Tomas"My name is Redhawk and I am a hunter and tracker. I examined the area and the orcs came later and had nothing to do Joren's abduction. It seemed like he was talking to two humans who came from the east. There were no signs of a fight." He will pause for a second"We have been sent to look into the orc problem."

"Just so, good man," Boggart says, stepping up with Redhawk, "I commend your resolve to see your homes defended, but I fear your brother's disappearance is another matter. We came from the town of Phandelin, and I'm out jonder came upon two men traveling in the same direction the of the unknown party. We suspect they may be the same, but have no proof. When met, they suggested adventure to The Temple of Truth to share it's bounty, but we judged this task to be of greater urgency. Thus we came upon the scene of the disappearance. Does any of this sound familiar to you?"

Tomas shakes his head before either Redhawk or Boggart has quite finished.

"No," he says firmly. "It doesn't fit. Joren is my brother. He knows everyone for miles around. Every farmer, every shepherd, every peddler that comes through. If two strangers had been wandering these parts before today, someone would've mentioned them. The only enemies we've had lately are the orcs."

He points toward the Wyvern Tor.

"They're clever enough for tricks. Maybe they disguised themselves. Maybe they wanted Joren alive. Maybe they found a way to hide what they did."

He shakes his head, clearly wrestling with the evidence.

"I don't know how they did it, but I know this: green monsters have been raiding these farms for weeks, and now my brother disappears on the very day he takes the flock out. That's too much of a coincidence for me."

Elsa gently places a hand on his arm.

"Tomas..." she says softly, then looks back at the party.

"If it truly wasn't the orcs... then who were these two humans? And what business did they have leading my brother away?"

Redhawk will look to Elsa"Have you heard of any type of religious cults or anything popping up in the last few weeks?"

"There is more than meet the eye in this matter, friends. Orcs might be the scapegoats of some malignant group." says Igrem to the farmers. "I have no proof, but I wonder as much. We come from Phandalin to investigate in this matter, and have... some experience in conflicts. Let us inquire on what happened to Joren before starting an ill prepared fight." He looks a few seconds at Elsa. "She might be right, you know."

Elsa shakes her head.

"No. Nothing like that."

She thinks for a moment before adding, "We've had a lot of trouble with orcs, and also the occasional goblin and highwaymen along the roads. But no preachers, strange pilgrims, or new religious folk passing through."

She pauses.

"If anyone would know more, it'd be father. Travelers stop here often, and folk tend to share news over a mug before continuing on."

Looking toward the western sky, now turning amber with the setting sun, she adds,

"It's getting late. My husband should be back from the orchard before long, and father will want to hear everything you've told us."

Her expression softens.

"If you're planning to stay the night, you're welcome to rent the guest cottage. That's what it's there for. It's clean, dry, and you'll have a roof over your heads."

"A kind offer, thank you," Boggart says, "We'll want to talk to your father, as well. Is he about?" He looks around to see if he espies anyone or anything not currently accounted for.

Boggart, as your eyes wander over the farm, everything appears to be exactly where it ought to be.

The barn doors stand open, revealing stacked hay and tidy pens. Chickens scratch lazily around the yard, and smoke curls from the farmhouse chimney. A wagon stands beside the woodshed, while well-used tools rest where they were last set down. There is no sign of fresh violence or anyone lurking nearby.

---

Elsa nods to your question.

"Yes. Father's inside."

She turns toward the house and calls,

"Father! We've visitors!"

A moment later, an elderly man steps out onto the porch, holding the hand of a little girl no older than four. The child clutches a carved wooden sheep and smiles broadly when she spots the flock.

"The sheep!" she chirps.

The old man smiles at her before looking toward your party.

Though age has bowed his shoulders, there is still an adventurer in Narth Tezrin.

He was not always a farmer. Years ago, Narth was a respected merchant of Triboar, making his living buying and selling goods across the North as a member of the Lionshield Coster. During those years he worked closely with a woman named Alaestra Ulgar. The two became inseparable, married, and eventually decided to leave the hazards of caravan life behind in favor of quieter work tending sheep on this farm.

His smile fades as his attention falls upon the broken shepherd's crook and the leather satchel, now in Elsa's hands.

"...Those belong to Joren," he says quietly.

His gaze settles on the flock, then returns to your faces.

"I see you've brought my sheep home."

A heavy silence follows.

"But... not my son. What happened?"

Boggart bows. "Hullo, good sir. I'm Boggart Frimble and this is Redhawk, Igrem, and Alexander Simonnet Natalis de Bertier du Puy. My faithful marten's name is Puck. We traveled from Phandelin to..." and he launches into a retelling of the events thus far.

Boggart's account takes several minutes to tell. Narth listens without interrupting.

Only when the tale is finished does he lower his eyes to Joren's satchel, turning the shepherd's whistle over in his weathered hands.

"If Redhawk's reading is true," he says at last, "then my boy left that meadow alive."

He exhales slowly.

"I'll cling to that hope."

He looks toward the fading afternoon light beyond the fields. Elsa quietly ushers the children back inside while Tomas paces the yard, still unconvinced the orcs are uninvolved.

Narth turns back to your party.

"You've had a long road, and tomorrow will likely be longer still. My family is grateful you brought the flock home."

---

Options for the night
Camp in the wilderness
Advantages: Free. Less predictable if someone is searching for you; easier to depart before dawn without notice.
Disadvantages: Less comfortable, slower recovery from the day's travel, and no shelter if the weather turns.

Rent the guest cottage, but keep watches and your guard up
Advantages: A warm bed and roof overhead while maintaining vigilance if orcs or whoever abducted Joren returns.
Disadvantages: 10 gp for the night. Sleep will be lighter, and this won't be considered a Safe Rest.

Stay in the guest cottage and rest without keeping watch
Advantages: Everyone gets a full night's rest, leaving you at your best for tomorrow. If nothing bad happens, this will be considered a Safe Rest.
Disadvantages: 10 gp for the night. If trouble comes to the farm during the night, you may have little warning before it reaches you. Moreover, in that case, your Safe Rest will be forfeit.

Igrem counsels his companions: "Friends, I believe we should stay here tonight. This expanse is reasonable, and we would be in better position to help if something bad happens tonight. The family already lost a son. I would hate for them to lose even more..."

Redhawk will nod"I agree with staying here. It is not my first choice to stay inside but I can. Unless y'all want me to bed down outside for quicker warning. I am a very light sleeper."

"'tis very kind of you, Master Narth, but methinks it best if we keep our guard up. On the morrow, we would seek your council on the orcish raiders. Master Harbin of Phandalin made mention that your would be a good source of information on that scourge."

"I'll happily chip in for some lodging," Boggart says. He plans on sneaking outside to sleep, in any case.

The guest cottage proves small but comfortable. A sturdy table, six simple beds, a stone hearth, and a few shelves stocked with blankets and crockery provide everything a weary traveler might need. Outside, Gertrude is tethered beneath a lean-to beside the cottage, happily chewing fresh hay while the sheep rest safely in their pen.

---

---

Igrem, you take the first watch.

The hours pass slowly. Above, the first-quarter moon hangs high in the southern sky, illuminating the countryside with a pale, silvery glow. Half the moon shines brightly while the other half remains in darkness, casting long shadows from the orchard trees and the fence posts. The night is bright enough to make out the outlines of the farmhouse, barn, and surrounding fields without a lantern.

A cool breeze stirs the orchard beyond the farmhouse, carrying the scent of apples and damp earth. Sheep occasionally bleat from their enclosure, an owl calls from somewhere beyond the fields, and once or twice you see Tomas emerge from the farmhouse to look toward the road before returning inside.

Nothing unusual disturbs the quiet.

Eventually, you wake Alex and Boggart for the next watch.

---

Deep Night, 29th of Ches (early hours)
Narth Tezrin's farm
Alex, Boggart, the moon has climbed higher by the time the two of you start your watch, with Boggart outside.

Its half-lit face bathes the farm in soft silver light. The sheep sleep huddled together, Gertrude flicks her ears lazily beneath the lean-to, and the only sounds are the chirping of crickets and the whisper of leaves stirred by the night breeze.

Then... A faint rustle.

From the branches of a large tree a short distance beyond the guest cottage, something shifts among the leaves.

A twig snaps. The sound comes only once, then the night falls still again.

Alex cocks his ears at the sound of a twig snapping. That sounds odd, he thinks. Alex motions to Boggart to be quiet as he creeps to the window, trying not to be seen [(1/round) You may either Move or Hide for free]. Perhaps it's Jeroen returning; but why would he sneak if this is his house?

Boggart nods at Alex as the man creeps to the window. He keeps still, straining his ears while he waits, sifting through the sounds of the night for anything out of place.