The Storyteller pauses a moment, his blind eyes seeming to stare intensely into the distance. "A dirty roadsid

The Storyteller pauses a moment, his blind eyes seeming to stare intensely into the distance. "A dirty roadside tavern. It smells of sour beer and burnt bread, and all I hear are these rough, barbaric tongues. I question travelers incessantly for news out of Rushwood — and what I hear makes me want to grab the swill they serve here and drink myself into a stupor."