[color=00FFFF][b]Djonn[/b][/color] - [color=CCCC00][b](within earshot of Silhainlé)[/b][/color]

"I haven't visited them myself," Thorpe admits, offering you the map. "But here's what I know: each house oversees the surrounding farmland and townships for the magistrate, around five-thousand acres each; each employs a staff of more than twenty; each is run by a family who has lived there for at least three generations; and despite the entitlement that I would have expected, as it turns out they are capable of gratitude for the Guard's protection during the greyskin invasion." He nods, contemplative. "Whether that gratitude is due to the preservation of their people or their position, I cannot say." He smooths his gold-gray locks, pushing them back to reveal his receding hairline, pale, wrinkled forehead. "I know little else. Only that they're expecting you."

[color=00FFFF][i]"Is everything alright Thorpe?"[/i][/color]

He regards you, taken aback. "Of course," he says, in a halting voice. "Quite alright. Frankly, just ready to be done with this job." He smiles, tightly. "Now, is there anything else you need of me?"