Hashing it out with Ralston about missing girls
A woman approached the table. She was tall, but bent with age, and wore the robes of a matron of the Mother. She sat down, pulled off a hunk of Doven's bread, dunked it in his beer, and the ate the whole beer-damp chunk in a single mouthful. Swallowing she motioned for Doven to slide the beer over but took up the mug before his hand to make it to the mug. She took several deep swallows then belched through a warm smile. Setting the mug down she spoke to the taken aback group.
"Good afternoon, and well met, the bread in not as good as the beer here." She waved her old hands in arc indicating the whole tavern. "But it is filling. Now, Ralston has a habit of talking to me about certain things that weight on the old scoundrel's heart. Even if he is just feeling guilty by association. Go to a town called Montizo. It is ten days north by horse, about one hundred fifty miles as the crow flies. A bit more on curving swamp roads. Seek out the manor of Carzin Wren, a Drow who gives a bad reputation to the race, and have a care to not get murdered while you search for your missing girls."
