Harshnag lifts a huge dead branch from the ground nearby and uses the campfire to set it alight as a torch before leading the way off the road, towards the moors. He stops after a few minutes, where the Inn is well out of sight, and proceeds to kneel down where he can better see your faces. 

“So then, what’s this about a personal matter?” His white beard is as tall as any of you. 

"We are looking for barbarians that kidnapped one of own's family." He nods toward Rip. "Rip can tell the story better of course."

Rip will cast fly on himself and float up to harshnag's eye level so they don't have to bend uncomfortably to see each other and brings him up to speed on the family and barbarians issue (didnt want to type all that out lol) "And that's where we are, so do you have any idea where this hideout might be at?"

Harshnag meets Rip’s eyes, appearing slightly amused as the sight of a flying halfling. “So a wizard saw this location, but you did not? It sounds familiar, but it is hard to say for sure. The place I am thinking of is called Beorunna’s Well, a spirit mound of the Uthgardt tribes, deep in the Cold Wood—you would call it Glimmerwood nowadays. It’s about half a week’s travel north of Citadel Felbar. If this is indeed the place, I can guide you there to save the children, as long as we can continue in partnership from there, as I need assistance for a quest...but how confident are you in this description?”

"It's the only lead i have so complete confidence do to lack of options. Realistically 50/50, but we intended to go to Citadel Felbar anyway so it's in a convenient direction. As for aiding you I cant speak for my friends, but as for me? Help me save my children and i'll follow you into the deepest of the nine hells if your quest demands it.... it... it doesn't does it?"

 Ink responds, "Well, we're certain that it was the Red Tiger clan that took the townspeople as slaves. Is this Beorunna’s Well a gathering place for that tribe?" 

"Could you tell us more of this quest you are on?" 

"Will ye  tell us what ye got in mind? When ah give me word, ah want ta make sure ah can keep it."

“No, that’s the thing,” says Harshnag in response to Ink’s question about the barbarians. “That spirit mound is the Black Lions’ territory, and they have been at war with the Red Tigers for centuries. What’s more, I happen to know that the Red Tigers are allied with the Stone Giants. I tracked and killed a pack of them not too long ago, in fact. They are a bloodthirsty bunch.

“We might be better off making the pilgrimage I had planned first, rather than searching for a needle in a haystack. And since you asked...there is an ancient temple to Annam called the Eye of the All Father, in the Spine of the World near the Valley of Khedrun, where there resides an all-seeing Oracle. If we travelled there straightaway, we could easily learn the location of your family, and at the same time receive answers regarding the Storm Giants and the Ordning.”

"I stand with Rip, but I do have a question. What do you need us for? Doorway too small?" Marav grins at his own joke.

"The Storm Giants? What do the storm giants have to do with this? I've only heard bare whispers of them in my studies," inquires Ink.

"How much further is this temple from Beorunna’s Well? Perhaps we can scout the Well on our way to the temple Citadel Feldbarr is along the way - perhaps we can find information or even reinforcements."

Then, as if realizing who he was talking to, Ink follows up, "Although I doubt we'd have much use for reinforcements with you walking among us."

Rip tosses Marav an approving nod at the joke

Harshnag laughs very loudly at Marav's words, a sudden and almost violent departure from his calm and quiet demeanor. He slaps his knee and the trees around you shudder.

“A joker, you are! Ha ha!" Wiping a tear from his eye, he chuckles before sobering enough to answer Marav's question. "The reason I am looking for partners in this endeavor, my good half orc, is because the gods have deemed giantkind unworthy. I would wager that small folk have a big part to play, and thus, I search for worthy ones. And I seem to have found!”

In answer to Ink’s question, Harshnag explains, speaking as briefly as possible. It is clear he doesn’t enjoy talking history or politics. “Well...the storm giants were in charge, traditionally, you understand. That was the way it always has been in living memory. But that all changed when the ordning was broken. Around the same time, King Hekaton, the most powerful among the Storm Giants, went missing. No one can find him, and now the Storm Giants have not the power to keep the smaller giant races in check. I believe the events are linked, so that is why I am traveling to the oracle.”

Harshnag pauses when asked about routes, and looks as if he’s counting various numbers in his head. “The Valley of Khedrun is...over 100 leagues from...Beorunna’s Well," says he, drawing you a scratch map in the dirt as he speaks. “It is just...east of Mirabar. We are...here, in between them, near Silverymoon. The path to...Citadel Felbar...would take us north and east, while the path to The Eye of the All-Father would take us nearly twice as far from here, to the north and west. Unless you happen to have a faster means of travel, it would take less than a tenday to get to the Khedrun Valley and the slopes of the Spine of the World. Were we to go there from Coldwood, it would be a journey thrice as long on foot, and much more treacherous. And really, Beorunna's Well is only my best guess. I would hate to be wrong, for many reasons, not least among them these halfling children.”

Harshnag smiles, as if flattered, when Ink mentions the lack of need for reinforcements.

“I would prefer to go to the Eye of the All-Father sooner, rather than later. There we can receive real answers and solid direction. But as I said, small folk have an important role to play. What do you think?”

"It may be we can shorten th' journey some. Ink, d'ya think our friends would approve?"

"In theory, he could travel through teleportation circles, however, in practice, it would not be a good idea given he's larger than the rooms he'd teleport to. If we could shrink him to down to our size, perhaps," Ink responds.

“What’s this about shrinking?”

"Well, we have access to a teleportation circle that can get us to Mirabar instantly - I imagine the trip to the Temple would be much faster leaving from Mirabar than from here."

Ink pauses.

"But," Ink opens his arms wide, "you're a little too big to use this network. It's supposed to be a secret.... And you don't fit in the rooms where these circles are... but if we could shrink you..."

“I see. And do you have the kind of magic to do this shrinking?” Harshnag sounds genuinely curious. 

"Come on Harshnag, don't tell me you've never thought about becoming little to see how the world looks from down here." 

He leans in close to Ink and in what is probably the world's worst stage whisper, "Can you really do that?"

Crownsguard leans in on the other side, “Yes, can you? I cannot recall you displaying such an ability beforehand.”

 "Hmm...." Ink says as he pulls a book hidden between his armor. 

He flips through it... Furiously. Stops at a page. Then sighs. 

He responds, "Seems I cannot. Looks like I was working out some transmutation magic that would allow me to make a creature either larger or smaller, but it seems I stopped working on the formula in favor of some pyrotechnics. It was during my 'fire' period. All those that study the arcane go through such a period. Then they learn to throw a massive fireball and drop that sort of magic going forward."

He looks up at Harshnag, "Sorry, but I cannot shrink you."

There's a little shame in Ink's eyes as he says this.