...still lingers in the Nomad. Some furniture there is damaged, and Griff can be seen grumbling about yaks and scrubbing the floor.

Several people had noted a troupe of barbarians, with their wooly yaks, arriving by ship early that morning; they can be seen leaving by the north gate, without incident, on the evening of the next day.

_________________
One thing I know for a fact:
Moustache stays
Right where it's at.

After returning from escorting the northmen up the mountain with the help of Kald and Vaelian, Zenith returned to Cordor all the more amused with the experience. And, apparently as the wife of one of the axe-thrower. But those were details that would have to be discussed later; for now, she set herself to helping Griff get his tavern back in yak-less order and covering the scent of the beasts with some sort of fruity solution.

Wood from Chinchona trees is brought in to make new furniture to replace the damaged ones, which Zenith cheerfully offers to craft herself, "Being as amazing as I am!" she'll exclaim to poor Griff.

Estara giggles a little as she smells the yak smell drifting out from the Nomad. How goofy.. I just hope that man doesn't come looking for me to be his wife again.. huh, actually, I didn't really ever get his name did I..

Dashfur was just minding his own business, when one of the Yak Farmers came out of nowhere smelling of Yak. Dashfur ask for some yak meat, but the farmer declined. Instead the farmer wanted to trade rare metals for some Yak skin breeches. Dashfur laid down some metal the farmer could use, and the farmer gave him some new breeches.

Oh what a happy day!

_________________

"Theres no point crying over every mistake.
you have to keep on trying untill you run out of cake." -Portal

Jelly seemed to have left through this parade, as he noticed as he stared into the bar trying to keep a straight face. He walked up to Griff and said still holding onto his twitching mouth:

"Why does it smell like Yak in 'ere?" He simply burst out laughing afterwards.

_________________

News travels quickly around the Grove of some barbarians felling some trees on the eastern fringes of the forest. Rumors abound as to their numbers, their motives, the extent of the damage, and what, if any, sinister force lurks behind them.

Of course, anyone actually inspecting the deforested area will note that only two or three moderate-sized trees have been reduced to stumps. Most of the forest is untouched.

Good trackers might notice the prints of at least two large humans and a heavy hoofed quadruped leading into the Skull Crags, where the trail is lost in the snow. The depth of the prints suggest that they were running, and that the animal was either very large or heavily laden.

_________________
One thing I know for a fact:
Moustache stays
Right where it's at.