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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Halford" data-source="post: 4526931" data-attributes="member: 64844">The night passes uneventfully and as the first rays of dawn lap across the parties faces Tyrion rises and stares to the north."Langton is not far from here, there we can take a boat to Fullerton and be upon the Branders within the day.  I just hope there is a ship ready to take us." The Eladrin glances anxiously to the north continually as the group eat a breakfast of trail rations.The group then head out and after three hours of walking enter the village of Langton, a tiny rural place with a single large stone mill with a waterwheel looming over perhaps ten dozen squat thatched cottages.  There is one barge docked by the side of the largest of these cottages, and beside this cottage is a large vine covered wooden awning under which are a dozen tables.  A sign over the awning dubs the establishment the Golden Grape.Sitting in the dappled light under the awning is a stout man who is rubbing his temples and groaning fervently.  He is swarthy with thick stubble and wears a dark blue bandanna with a cockerel embroidered upon it in silver thread.  Before him is a platter laden with bacon and fried eggs which he occasionally pushes around the plate.Other than this diner the rest of the townfolk ared dressed in simple working clothes and are obviously extremely poor.</blockquote>