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Message: <blockquote data-quote="pathfinderq1" data-source="post: 3815113" data-attributes="member: 48394">Tyrla said little during the conference with Jorr, and even less once they were back on the road- she was coming to a very high opinion of the instincts of her new traveling companions.  It was easy to see why they were experienced, successful adventurers- they asked many of the questions that she would have asked herself, and they were often better phrased; they even made points she would have missed.  As they travelled, Tyrla tried to keep the bulk of the group between herself and Jorr (or rather, his dog)- that habit was a hard one to break.The possibility had occured to her that the old fellow might be the canny lone woodsman he claimed- or he might have survived the depredations which had wiped out larger households in another way.  Perhaps he was in the hobgoblins' pay, and he meant to lead them into danger.  For now, she was content to simply watch, merely adding the old fellow to her list of things to keep an eye on.  When they reached the causeway, and Jorr came to a halt, Tyrla grew wary.  She looked out towards the water-logged wagon, then swept her gaze around the area and over the far shore.  Beneath the shelter of her swirling cloak, one hand crooked in a warding gesture, ready to call the forth the arcane fires she wielded.  Perhaps one of the more sharp-eyed or woodswise of her companions would see something...OOC: Any way to tell from here whether the wagon is an old wreck or something recent?</blockquote>

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