Carver turned at the survivor's voice and spread his hands wide. "Love the skeptic, for the light needs not thanks to fall upon one's face. You are permitted to your theory, and I to mine." He patted the gnome on the head. "That she is, my friend. She is made of power, bent to noble purpose. And how magnificently she shines!"

He glanced around the camp. It seemed almost everybody was waking now - even the witch was attempting to assert her feminine wiles upon the survivor. The sight interested Carver little, however - he was much more relieved to see Alula, sitting up and rubbing her eyes from the light. He smiled warmly and nodded to her slightly - the two could speak privately later about the symbol, and Carver's obviously mystical dream. The others need not be troubled about it, not yet.

"My friends," he said to the general company, "We have much to discuss. First, know that I received a visitor last night - I woke up to find a child sleeping beside me. I know not where he came from, as I did not wish to disturb him; he slumbers still. Secondly, we must chart a course towards the next town or city, warn someone about the evils we have witnessed. I know little of this land, so I will leave this portion of the plan to you. All voices are welcome, and none need fear to share their opinion."