Dorje sipped his mead as the commotion rose keeping an eye on the one with the red hair. [i]Nimblefingers, eh? Almost as strange as Hearthstone[/i], he thought as a young boy burst through the door, flooding his senses; Dorje could hear the boy's pounding heartbeat and smell the scent of burning flesh and ruin on his clothes. One side of his face was burned badly, and his hair was singed quite a bit. The boy had seen destruction the likes of which Dorje never had, and it troubled him as the small woman comforted him. Was this type of thing as common in the world as pleasant conversation? If so, then maybe the others of the order may be right to seek solitude and peace. He stood from his chair as the tiny lady gave the barmaid a substantial amount of money, and followed her out the door, seeing her offer a ride to the one with the sword.  

[i]Why this detour? If we are truly to save the world, what use is it to tarry here and risk more lives by letting this evil fester? Though if my quest truly lies with them, and the journey is as difficult as the letter suggests, then I will need their help[/i]. His musing was broken by the sound of hoofbeats galloping away.

Dorje closed his eyes, focusing intensely as his stone amulet grew warm against his neck, and began to run, faster and faster until he was keeping pace with the riders.