Jarlben Trookshavits's page

Ah, good question. Curren is a dwarf, short, even for a dwarf, dark of complexion with oil-slicked jet black hair he usually keeps in a tail bound by a silver ring. Ardan's a tall older chap, gray hair, gray beard, muscular, seen a lot, was a ranger in the Arthfell for a good stretch o' years, but came up here at the beginning of the summer. They'll both be wearing leather armor, and be pretty well armed. That's one way to tell 'em apart from the Jacks. Jacks'll have an axe or a hatchet at most, and none of 'em'll be wearing armor. Trookshavits says, then sits back down in his chair and begins looking at the page of the book he was examining when the door opened.

If there's nothing more, I'd like to try and finish my bookkeeping for the day so I can get a meal myself. You can set up tents anywhere in the grass east of here. You'll see some out there already on the other side of the buildings.

Kreed's foreman takes the writ, and like everyone else looks it over, then hands it back. He looks Kairon up and down, and Lunarinus, still in the doorway, as well. I'm going to go ahead and guess you're not heading into the woods tonight. Not sure exactly what Kreed meant by aid, he tends to be a tight-pocketed boss. I've had more than a few of my Jacks that went into town on their regular leave not able to come back to work 'cause they picked up this illness, so far, thankfully, he says and looks up to the ceiling, thank the gods, it hasn't made it's way out here to the camps. He pauses a moment again, and both Kairon and Lunarinus feel scrutinized. If you want you can grab a meal out of the mess hall. He says and jerks a thumb pointing to his left, apparently indicating another of the buildings. Most men eat out by their tent fires, he again jerks a thumb pointing to his left. I wouldn't exect too much camaraderie from 'em. They're usually drunk or tired or both, and 'less they know you it wouldn't do much good trying to fire up a conversation. If you get my meaning. At this point Jarlben's look changes, subtly, but still. As for Milon, he pauses, well there I've got to be the bearer of bad news. He hasn't come back from his ranging for two days now. It's not unheard of, man loves the outdoors and that hawk of his more than people I think. There're other rangers here you could question, Ardan or Curren. I think I saw them stroll in this afternoon. They won't know near as much as Milon, but they might be able to answer whatever question's you've got about the woods. Jarlben stands up from his desk chair then, and begins to stroke the fur of a stuffed fox that rests on his desk. Seeing him pet the dead fox opens your eyes to the fact that his office is stuffed with stuffed animals. Taxidermy creatures are present everywhere, birds, rodents, even some strange creature with a shell-like hide and a long snout. He pets the long-eared fox from its crown to its tri-colored tail. If there's more I can do, let me know. I want this disease cured as much as any Valer. I've got relatives in town. He says, letting that explain everything.

What's all this now?!