Grugga sits down and waits for the gruel. He half hums - half sings along with the performer:

"Mean old levee taught me to weep and moan
Mean old levee taught me to weep and moan
It's got what it takes to make a Mountain Dwarf leave his home
Oh well, oh well, oh well"

Once the Orcish woman is finished cooking he purchases a bowl and asks a few questions. "We're planning on passing through Maggie's Woods," he says, "But we've heard some strange stories about the place. Would you be able to tell us a little more about it?"

The elf smiles and nods as Grugga sings along.  The bootless human rolls his eyes.  “Don’t encourage him.  I made the mistake of liking one of his songs once… been stuck with him following me around ever since.”

The old orc looks up from her ladle as she begins portioning out the gruel.  “Them woods?” She looks your group up and down, and it’s at this point you see one of her eyes is grey and sightless.  “You folk look like you know how to take care of yourselves.  But I wouldn’t go traipsing through those woods without good reason.  It’s an old forest.  The edges… what do you call it.. the periphery… that’s fine.  Probably won have no issue.  But deep in that wood things change.  Paths turn around and lead you back the way you come in.  Wolves bigger than a bear stalk amongst the giant old pines.  And the lady of the wood, if she don’t take a liking to you… well you’re likely to not come out of those woods at’all.”

Aubrey too purchases a bowl. "The lady of the wood? Sounds intriguing, tell us more, please." He says and starts eating.

Before heading inside, Leelan takes off his beret, revealing a thinning hairline, and wrings it out to take out the excess water. He then heads over to the fire to warm up. 

Listening in on the conversation, the gnome chimes in. 
"As big as a bear, you say? If memory serves, that sounds like dire wolves. Vicious beasts. I’d be curious to watch one up close."

"The lady of the wood? Would that be the eponymous Maggie?" He takes another bite of gruel. "Isn't there anyone around these parts who knows their way about the woods?"

He also turns to the other group, "Bad day for travel, eh? Say, where'd you learn to play like that?"

Rohuzar has sat and just gives the stink eye to the other party. 

“Vhat do you think, Guilim? Competition?” 

"Possible. I can't say for sure but to be cautious we should keep any details of our reasons for being here to ourselves." Guilim suggests quietly as he looks over the other group with a quick glance.

The old orc woman rolls her good eye - the other remains unsettlingly stationary - at the questions of Grugga and Aubrey.  "Maggie... perhaps.  Or at least that's what folk called her back when these woods got their name."  She carries bowls of gruel one by one to the eight travelers sitting in her dining room... and a piece of hard roll as a utensil.  "Most folk here have been to the woods.  Hard to live your life so close and not do a little wandering, or foraging, or logging or what have you.  But that's just on the edge.  Just those thin woods that are the border between our world and the deep forest.  The deep woods?  You won't find many souls who've been there... and returned."  She finally fixes herself a bowl and sits down.  She extracts some wooden false teeth from the roof of her mouth and sets them on the counter in front of her and eats a few mouthfuls.  "There's one man in town who might remember.  He's old though, and his family won't care for it if you get him upset.  But when he was a young man, his brother disappeared in those woods and he led a search.  Gord.  Gord Jones.  He lives with his daughter and her family on the north edge of town.  The home has a crushed stone walkway leading to the door... only house up there to have one.  You can't miss it. " 

"Aye, big wolves," she says to Leelan.  "Careful what you wish for, wee fellow.  A wolf like that wouldn't even need to chew a little thing like you.  Just gobble you up whole - nom nom nom," she adds, with a laugh that suggests she finds this idea very funny.

5

The other group doesn't notice Guilim and Rohuzar's scornful gaze as they chat with Grugga.  "Yeah.  The only thing this weather is good for is keeping me inside and away from ogres.  So... its actually pretty great, I guess," says the dour human, checking his boots and apparently disappointed with their continued dampness.  "Which way are you folk coming from?  We're supposed to be tracking an ogre but we've lost the trail."

The elf finishes his playing and gives a polite nod to Grugga.  "I've picked up a bit of music here, a bit of music there.  Are you from Pentwater?  That verse you sang is unique to the western highlands."

Grugga looks to his companions, "Hopefully Gord won't mind if we ask him a bit about the woods." He stares back out the window at the rain and shivers. "Hopefully this rain lets up, too... feels like it's following us."

Grugga responds to the human first, "We're coming in from Bardstown. We were, uh, uh... sorry... lost my train of thought." Grugga buys himself a few seconds to think of a lie. He feels Guilim's and Rohuzar's eyes on him from behind. "We're sightseers on our way to Ars Dinodont. Ahem, how did you end up getting talked into tracking an ogre?" Deception: 23

He then turns to the Elf, "Aye, you've got me pegged. From Raven's Hill, near the border with Dunngenor, south of the chasm. Grugga, by the way." He stands up to introduce himself to the other team with a handshake.

Leelan has himself a bowl of gruel during the conversation. "And what subject might this Gord fellow find…upsetting? Tis surely the last thing we wish to do, but I find that knowing is half the battle."

The elf and halfling don't appear to give Grugga's lie a second thought.  The human looks at Grugga and his strange machines for a moment, then to the well-dressed Aubrey, and then small, scholarly Leelan.  Then he takes a closer look at the obviously more martial Guilim and Rohuzar.  "I guess these two must be your escorts," he states matter of factly.  "Wise.  It isn't a great time to be traveling.  We are after an ogre, because the nobles of Silver Creek are paying good coin to finance it.  Being from Bardstown you may not have heard, but ogres have been an awful nuisance in the mountains this year.  Something's got the big idiots riled up.  Hitting merchants and even nobles out on the roads, burning caravans instead of just eating a few horses... weird behavior.  Worse, they are acting... smarter.  They don't just stand there swinging their club until they bleed to death from sixty arrows.  They hit and run.  This big fellow we were tailing, he doubled back on his tracks twice to try to throw us off.  I'm pretty sure we've lost him for good."

"Alls for the best," the halfling says, still not looking up from the table.  "I've had my fill of ogres."

"Aye," retorts the man.  "But when your belly isn't full because we've got no coin to eat, your tune will change quick."

"Kiteborne," says the elf as means of introduction.  "Kiteborne Deftfinger, as I'm known in the performance halls of Easton and Tucker Hills -"

"And all the brothels in between," deadpans the halfling as he puts his arms down on the table and rests his head on them.

The human sighs.  "You know, he doesn't consider that a burn," he says sadly to the halfling.  Turning back to Grugga, "I'm Cliff.  I run this sorry crew.  The halfling questioning his life choices is Kurt Vonnigut.  And now you've met us all."

Meanwhile Aubrey finishes up his simple meal and walks over to Rohuzar and Guilim. "I guess we should have a look out for ogres then, but perhaps we should just move on now?" He suggests in a lowered voice with a look out the window in hope of better weather soon.

"It looks like we're heading out soon. Cliff, Kiteborne, Kurt, It was a pleasure meeting all of you; good luck in your travels."

He turns to his companions, "Shall we see if Gord can tell us anything?"

The old orc woman looks at Leelan.  "He's an old man now.  He doesn't visit much anymore and I can't rightly say what may or mayn't upset him.  But his daughter is protective of him and won't take kindly to her elderly father being agitated or upset by a bunch of strangers.  So tread carefully."  She shrugs.  "If you do talk to him, tell him old Phlox misses our card games."

Outside, the rain has reduced to a light sprinkle and there are gaps in the clouds where the sun attempts to poke through.  Further north, over the forest, the sky looks darker than ever....

“An ogre that doubles back… That must be mistake. Not ogre. But yes, ve be careful. Set watcheach night. For now, the old man is the means. Good job, again. Ve are making good progress for big job.” Rohuzar looks in remarkably good spirits for not being that dry yet. 

 You file out of the Crowfoot and search the northern part of the village.  With the rain letting up, a group of villagers has gathered at what looks like a bakery, where part of the roof seems to have failed.  They look to be pitching in to help the baker make some quick repairs.

There is a final row of homes at the north end of town with only a few fields and orchards between them and the edge of the forest.  It isn't long before you spot a nicer home, with some birdhouses lining a crushed stone walkway that must be the place.

As you approach the home, the front door opens and an old man emerges, dressed in night clothes and wrapped in a heavy red plaid blanket or robe.  He slaps the seat of an old rocking chair on the porch to clear some rain and then slowly sets himself down.  Ignoring you for a moment, his eyes are drawn off north toward the forest... though the skies are clearing here, great grey and purple clouds hover on the horizon over the forest.  There is a strobing flash of lightning and soon a low rumble travels across the hills and fields.  

8

 The old man slowly turns his face back to you.  Before you can greet him, he speaks to you in a strong, clear voice. 

"Travel northwest until you reach her forest.  Know her rule.  The rule of three."

"The first of her rules; the rule of three.  Knock three times on the dead man's tree."

"The next of her rules; the rule of three.  Follow the blue lion... until it turns on thee."

"The last of her rules; the rule of three.  Offer treats to the children, upon bended knee."

"Keep to her rule and the wood will let you be; If you meet the lady, show her courtesy; Your quest complete, if you be worthy."

After finishing the rhyme, the old man looks down at his hands and starts to rub his face and eyes, rocking quietly in the chair.

"What an excentric performance." Aubrey says to the others in a lowered voice before nodding and smiling politely at the old man. "Perhaps that is the help we can hope for at this place or should I try to talk to him some more? I wouldn't be surprised if doesn't even remember he just said that rhyme to us." Aubrey goes on, looking to Rohuzar.

Taken aback by the old man, Leelan stops and looks at his companions. ‘’This seems oddly conveniant that he should tells us exactly what we need to know as we approach. I would thread carefully here.’’

The old man looks up again and sniffs, sounding a bit stuffy.  He stares at the sky for a minute.

"It looks... it looks like rain."

He glances at the party, smiles and waves kindly, then looks back south toward the village, continuing to rock in his chair.

Rohuzar looks back towards the inn they just came from. “The innkeep… if she knew to send us to him… No, not enough to speculate further. Ve need treats. It’s not smart to ignore the locals.”