For several days, Norsten and Phillian have been looking at Mirna oddly. They haven’t said anything, but she’s worried that they discovered her stash of supplies, or maybe her latest ‘workroom’ out in the woods. She checked her supplies the next chance she got, and was relieved to find none missing, but the looks from Norsten and Phillian continued.
Early this morning, her reading was interrupted by a knock at the tower door. One of the townsfolk, breathing hard after running clear across town, asked for Phillian. When the elf emerged from his study, the townsman spoke up. “A traveling trader arrived today, but there is something very wrong. He is injured, so much so that he passed out as soon as he was safely in the village, and he came on foot, with no goods. He usually drives a wagon.”
“Why do you come to me with this, ” Phillian asked.
“Norsten is out, collecting things for the tribute, ” the townsman replied. “You seemed the most qualified left in town to deal with this. Please, come and help us keep the people calm. ”
“Oh, very well, ” was the elf’s reply. He then turned to Mirna. “You might as well come along, child. You’d probably follow at a distance anyway. ”
With that, Phillian grabbed his orb and a few supplies and headed out the door, with the townsman behind him.