Avaria gives Hammerdasher a good, solid pat on the back as he answers and with a big grin, "I figured as much.  Just wanted to be sure, you know?"

Glad that plans were finally coming together, Ava hangs back and lets the others decide up the details.  She was curious about this Soren kid that Marrin just met.  "Are most bards you come across typically on the up and up or are they typically shifty?  And not like me... a shifter.. you know what I mean!"

"You mean shifty like Marrin?", Jan asks innocently.

To Jan and Ethel,

"Okay, I'll get Soren and we can interview him. Just a bit on edge given recent, past events. Twice."

Then to Ethel,

"We have enough for horses. We can also offload some of the old Captain's weird knickknacks to pay for them."

Seeing they are agreed she will find Jenny and let her know they want the horses and equipment, minus one for Geffroi.

Once she is back she will smile at Ava's question and give Jan a slightly narrow eyed glance,

"Free range bards like Soren and I tend to be... Well, we have to look out for ourselves. It is honestly part of the draw of the job."

She gestures loosely around them,

"New places, adoring crowds, no attachments. That also means we don't have much in the way of support, which is fine. We expect people to try and get the better of us so we tend to try and beat them to that."

Shrugging she adds,

"Soren wants to help because he expects a big payout at the end. Had he just offered to help out of the goodness of his heart, I would have known he was aiming to rip us off."

"I'm familiar with that mindset. Working with you ladies and gents is the first time I've worked with a group for more than an odd job here or there. We might occasionally have our differences, but I think our strengths complement each other."

She holds an extra beat of eye contact with Marrin by way of apology.

"He's the slim fellow, yes?" Jenny says when Marrin mentions they'll need one less mount. Jenny does some quick mental math and nods. "I think we'd though a pony for him. Take off the pony and gear and you probably bring your total down to 440 gold or so."

She moves off and you see her in conversation with the very rotund barkeep from last night. He, presumably Olaf, smiles and nods and heads out the door.

By this time, you can all see that Soren, looking a little bleary eyed is sipping a coffee and willing his mind and body to get the day started. And Tas is close to finishing breakfast with the merchants she was with last night.

Marrin nods towards Soren,

"I'll go check if Soren is ready for his interview, if we like what we hear we can head down to the harbormaster while he gets ready."

Marrin heads over to Soren and smiles before saying,

"Good morning Soren. Your offer to be a guide still good? If it is, my group would like to meet you."

She'll indicate where the team is sitting.

Soren looks up, blinking a little, then nods when his eyes finally focus on Marrin.

"Sure," the tired bard says. "What changed your mind?"

He picks up his coffee and moves to join Marrin and the others.

"It honestly came down to how much walking there was, you'll get it once you've talked with the others."

At the table she'll introduce everyone and then say,

"Everyone, this is Soren. Soren says he can guide us through the Rawlinswood, right Soren?"

"How long is the trail?  Once we cut north, can we make it through the forest in a day?  Two?  And are there any established campsites along the way?"  Ethel jumps in to ask.  

When the bard answers, she watches his body language to try and guess if he is actually answering from memory, or just making things up to satisfy her with answers?  Insight:  23

The half-elf gives a partial bow to the group and smiles at Ethel jumping in with questions.

He spots the map you have rolled out on the table in front of the group and he puts a finger to the narrow point, northwest of Bezentil.

"The narrows here is about twenty-five miles across. Were out of the summer so that should keep the mosquitoes in check, but the muskeg bogs are still there. And we'll want to stay well clear of Clymph Tower, here" he says pointing to the location on the map.

He then looks at Ethel "I've made it through in a day before. We'd camp as close to the edge of the woods as we dare, then push hard through and hope the trails are where they're supposed to be and ride hard to the other side."

Then Soren sighs and holds his hands up.

"Last time I came through it was okay, but the trails, well" he says with a pause, not taking his eyes from the map. "Sometimes they move. Or maybe it's the forest itself that moves."

He looks at the group and takes a breath before continuing.

"Absolutely no cutting wood. No trapping. No hunting. Avoid stepping on anything in bloom. Anything. No campfires. And we might keep the forest on our side. If we don't it might lead the Rotting Man to us."

Soren pauses then laughs. "At least that's what the last ones who lived in Denderdale would say. But yes. We'll need to be careful and hope to get through before nightfall but make plans to camp if we don't. There was a clearing about halfway across, a bit of a ridge just at the start of the eastern rise. It would make a decent spot to camp if we have to."

As Ethel watches Soren carefully as he speaks, she feels confident that he has made the crossing before and knows the distance and trails. While he tried to spin the warning as superstitious stories, Ethel gets the impression that he doesn't necessarily think they're stories.

Avaria stands back and lets the others decide the trip.  She was looking forward to getting a horse, she had never done that before and thought they were beautiful beasts.  She was almost lost in her daydream about it, but then perks up, "What is the Rotting Man?"

Marrin shrugs,

"Sounds doable."

She looks to Ethel and Jan while Ava distracts Soren.

Jan purses her lips and bobbles her head in a 'I guess we can try him out' sort of way.

Soren looks at Avaria when she asks about the Rotting Man.

"Bit of a bogeyman the locals out there use to scare their kids," Soren says with a laugh. "The Rotting Man was supposed to be some druid or nature cleric that got overzealous about protecting the woods. Nothing to worry about."

He finishes off his coffee and then adds that he just needs to pack up a few things, and grab his horse then he'll be ready to go.

As Soren bounds up the stairs, Jenny comes over from where she had been near the bar.

"My father told me stories about the Rotting Man when I was a child. He was no corrupted druid. There was nothing of nature in his powers. His was the power of waste, rot, and madness. He relished the opportunity to turn beautiful things to rot and to turn joy to loss. That dark decaying power came from somewhere else." Jenny appears to realize what she's saying now and looks worried that she may have become overly dramatic. "But there has been no word of the Rotting Man for a generation. Still, there have been stories of a dark blight reappearing in the Rawlinswood. Just don't linger if you're going through the forest."

Ethel listens to the comments about the forest and the Rotting Man, taking note but offering no comment.  

Once Soren has left, she turns to the others.  "I think this will work out nicely.  I trust that he is familiar with the forest and its paths.  While I'm no Diviner, nothing in his answers or mannerisms gave me concern that he was lying or otherwise conspiring against us."

Avaria's eyes go wide as Jenny interjects with what the Rotting Man might actually be.  That coupled with what she is hearing about the forest herself makes her pale a little.  And to no one in particular, "That doesn't sound like the forest I grew up in at all.  I wonder what could have happened to it?"

Marrin nods to Ethel's comments and adds,

"And I suppose we will take up the payment amount when we get to that point."

To Ava's open wondering Marrin can't do much beyond give a 'I don't know shrug' and hazard,

"Twisted magic?"

If they feel good to go, Marrin will rise and ask,

"Down to the harbormaster?"

Ava rises with Marrin, "Yep, let's go see what they know."

Geffroi decides to stay at the inn for now, pouring over his notes and looking at the map again for any detail he may have missed before. He wishes the party well and says he will see you when you come back to the inn to collect your gear and horses.

Once the group steps back out into the streets of Uthmere, you're immediately hit by the smell of the sea as well as the smells of storm drains and refuse you've come to associate with cities and towns, smells that were completely absent inside the Captain's Loft. In fact, if you'd had to swear to it, you'd say the inside of the inn smelled more of forest than town.

The traffic of carts and sailors coming and going, and the increasing volume of squawking seagulls make it relatively easy work to navigate your way back to the port.

Though your breakfast has just ended, the port is in full swing. Stevedores load timber from the interior on to waiting ships. Crates and barrels move in both directions and anyone walking the docks needs to keep an eye out or risk getting run over.

Through all the commotion, the group can see Bigge taking possession of what appear to be building supplies - lumber, rope, pitch, tar, canvas and more. He appears to be arguing with a stevedore who is walking away from the pile. "That's what it costs to deliver to your ship," the stevedore calls as he walks away. "Bloody thieves," Bigge can be heard calling. Seeing the job that needs to be done, Ula and Hammerdasher let the four of you continue on your task of finding the harbourmaster while they split off to go help Bigge move his supplies to the Wish.

"Come get us before you head back," Ula says.

Ahead, at the end of the stone breakwater, you all spot the sturdy stone office of the harbour master. When you arrive at the closed doors to the building, you notice that from here you can see pretty much all of the harbour.

Knocking elicits a gruff "Come."

Entering into the building, you discover it is little more than one big office with plenty of windows. Seated at a large desk is a large muscular orc with reading glasses.

"What do you want?" he growls.