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Herkk finishes his prayers and rises, then steps out of his inn room and walks downstairs to the common room. For the past two weeks, there have been no sign of any of the others he had been adventuring with, but his prayers to Torm have left him with a sense that they, too, had escaped Hell alive. Now, he prays to Torm for guidance of a different sort: he seeks a paladic mount, a noble steed to carry him into battle.
Thus far, his prayers have been less than fruitful, but all things come to those who wait. He orders a plate of breakfast and begins eating, but his meal is disturbed when he overhears two men talking.
"Did you hear? It attacked another farm three days ago."
"Yeah, they say it killed all but one this time."
"Excuse me, gentlemen," says Herkk, walking over. "I couldn't help but overhear. What are you talking about?"
The two men stare at the half-orc in plate armor, but one of them gulps and says, "They say there's a dragon attacking the farms these days. One girl went to the Flaming Fist today; it looks like she was the only survivor."
Thus far, his prayers have been less than fruitful, but all things come to those who wait. He orders a plate of breakfast and begins eating, but his meal is disturbed when he overhears two men talking.
"Did you hear? It attacked another farm three days ago."
"Yeah, they say it killed all but one this time."
"Excuse me, gentlemen," says Herkk, walking over. "I couldn't help but overhear. What are you talking about?"
The two men stare at the half-orc in plate armor, but one of them gulps and says, "They say there's a dragon attacking the farms these days. One girl went to the Flaming Fist today; it looks like she was the only survivor."
