It has been a fine morning and the skies are clear as you approach the gates towards out of town. Clearly the human guards have filled the ranks with the half-orcs retiring for some rest before night-fall, it seems an endless cycle of the guards at the gates.
calls one guard as you leave.
marching order and any rolls, survival to predict the weather, tell direction etc. Plan of action?
Thedrin's pose relaxes somewhat as the truth comes out "How did I do that? Was it the orc ear or the booze? - just wanted the wee mutt tae enjoy the same as we were... was he up the night... you know..." making pukey motions.
As you travel, you pass through brooding pine forests and deep vales several days north of the mining town of Blasingdell. From where you stand now, you catch sight of a tall, steep hill that rises to a prominent bare knob of rock—the Stone Tooth. A thin spire of smoke rises from some unseen point high on the hill’s slopes, and you can make out a steep, narrow road or track that runs back and forth across the face of the mountainside.