Rorik nodded. "Good day, sir" he said, bowing again. He walked outside, looking towards the forest. He knew, if anywhere, that's where they'd be. Rorik ran through the town, and into the trees, where he began to jump from tree to tree, doing athletic flips and tricks in mid-air, when he suddenly bumped into a clearing, and fell.<br/><br/>Getting up, Rorik assessed the area. he immediately got down, getting into the prone position hiding in the weeds. Up ahead, there was a group of odd looking beasts, no doubt with the same master as the moth-things. Rorik could see about three weird looking things, although a name came up to him, "Balrogs..." he said quietly to himself. 'If they're here, they're probably on lookout...and if they're on lookout, then that means the camp has to be around here.' he thought.<br/><br/>Rorik snuck through the weeds until he was near one. Suddenly, he jumped into the air and unsheathed his knife, yelling a war cry he had picked up somewhere he couldn't remember.