"They seek answers, Master Torletarte. The goblins may know something of what happened here, and Messrs. Anchor and Wormwood are, like the learned Nzegwu before them, 'drawing answers from any source that speaks its truth to them.'"
"Myself, I think we'll have the full story from whoever stalks yonder keep." The Tumari youth points to a window high in the tower. "I know not if whoever flies the fox and rose is a friend, though, and so would hear the goblin's tale myself."
Turning back to the guards, Marcon spies his own rucksack among the baggage carried. He grins widely as he takes it, shouldering his bow.
"My thanks, gentlemen, for your bravery and your encumbrance. You were wise to hold back, for there was some violence." He gestures to the arrow wound in his shoulder.
