"If you want to parlay with the goblins, be my guest," Gwenaël said, "but just because some of the onion isn't bad doesn't mean it isn't rotten. A good soldier does as he's told, even if the orders are bad." He continued, "But speaking with them and trying to learn their intentions if a good idea, if you can do it without becoming a pile of cinders first, as you say your god allows."

The ranger looked up towards the sun, squinting, "Regardless, we should strike out. The more time we waste, the more likely we are to miss out opportunity to stop whatever trouble is brewing. Is everyone ready?" He checked his sword and his quiver at his belt, and then fingered the bow slung across his shoulders, making sure he had everything he'd need. His bird, [url=http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/c8/Falco_rusticolus_white_cropped.jpg] a handsome, white creature,[/url] sat perched atop a nearby pole, staring at the party quizzically. Gwenaël gave a sharp whistle to the bird and it floated down from its vantage to rest on the boiled leather jerkin he wore as armor. He was ready.

[i]Would that I had the coin for a horse[/i], Gwenaël thought while eyeing the two mounted companions, [i]I'll have to see about getting one before this is over[/i]. He waited for the others to depart, anxious to return to the wilds.