[color=8dc73f][h3]Mission: Blackmarsh[/h3][/color]


Gris sighed inwardly as the little town of Blackrest came into view.  Though outpost on the fringe of civilization might be a more appropriate description for the group of dilapidated structures ahead.   Perhaps he'd learned a little of the motives behind going into the Blackmarsh, though not nearly enough paint a clear picture.  And he was already figuring out how they were going to procure means to follow the group discreetly.  

"Much obliged, folks," he said when the fisherman docked the Wavehalk long enough for the pair to climb out.  "Good luck hunting your alligators.  Looks like the weather might take a turn for the worse," he warned and pointed to some heavy clouds forming in the distance.  

"Now what, Gris...?"  one might just catch the quieter "Jacob" saying as the pair turned away and the small craft was pushed away from the dock.