<span class="bbc_u"><em><strong>GM POST</strong></em></span><br/><br/><hr/><hr/><div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/47/c7/18/47c7189c8c949970e912b682ff941c86.jpg)<br/><div class="floatright"><em>The Leonin Guard, on Alert for danger.</em></div></div><br/>While<strong><em>Garrus</em></strong>is unable to pull his attention away from the impressive mane of the Leonin guard on high-alert,<strong><em>Tali's</em></strong>own feline instincts recognise many of the Lion-Man's tells. Game recognises game, and she could tell where his gently flickering ears and the soft rise of his neckhair was leading.<br/><br/>Glancing about, then she spotted it.<br/><br/>There was a shadow in the far distance. Something observant and cautious. The glint of glass was the thing that gave it away, but some two-hundred feet up and a quarter-of-a-mile away there was a Centaur., watching the pass with an eyeglass. The wind was behind the creature, blowing its scent towards the pass – which is what the Leonin had picked up. Only Tali's competitive nature and natural talents for perception allowed her the full on glance of the onlooker. After catching Tali gazing in its direction for an extended few seconds, it seemed to notice and retreat.<br/><br/><em>[GM Note: The DC to catch the scent was 15. The DC to spot it was 25.]</em><br/><br/>Meanwhile,<strong><em>Ashala's</em></strong>curiosity paid dividends, as did her gently persuasive nature. The Farmer seemed to be briefly shaken by the sudden intensity of the woman now that he had her full attention, perhaps reminded of some distant memory. His lips chapped as he mumbled to find his verbal footing. “<strong>W-w-well that is t'say that uh...I used t'trade with one of them good ones, y'know? Before they all gots together. Shana – That's the Centaur's name I traded with – She told me that there was four tribes in the valley. Last time I talked with her, she said there was some big Meetin' called by a Big Centaur. Shu somethin'. Shu the Strong? Shu the King? Shu the...Shu-somethin' the Somethin'. That was 'bout a month back.</strong>” He rubbed his chin, apparently tapped of any obvious insight on the situation after that brief pontification. Whether there was more to be gained or not, further question might uncover.<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/><br/>The Overseer stroked his chin as he sent another group of farm-hands and worried husbands away, refusing them access to the valley just yet. His scouting party had failed to return from Krinsest yet, having been sent a day and a half ago now. There were people he trusted amongst that group, which meant that desertion or dereliction were not at fault here. Something was either keeping them occupied, or had waylayed them. He was confident that there was a good reason...Surely there was a good reason?<br/><br/>He glanced from his seat at the gathered groups of individuals, knowing well enough that he wasn't going to be able to send anyone away that had a settled group. He needed a solution, and when he glanced at some of the groups he thought he spotted one in the form of one of Asteri's greatest exports: Adventurers. There was rarely a shortage of would-be heroes in the land, and he could see a dozen or so. He whistled at a group of his soldiers, flagging them down before giving them silent messages to relay.<br/><br/>One-by-one, they vanished. Each approaching Garrus, Tali, Ahshala, and Amberyll separately. Leaning in, they patted each of the would-be heroes on the shoulder, relaying a simple message to them in private, so as not to draw any obvious attention from the outsiders they might be chatting with.<br/><br/>“<strong>Overseer Viryian would like to speak with you. He needs skilled hands, and thinks you might be suitable.</strong>”<br/><br/>The guards retreat to the tent, nodding for you to follow when you are ready. If you choose to do so you are let in individually to chat with this Viryian, who waits for you all to gather before speaking. Once you are all gathered, he speaks bluntly, and with a sort of tired finality.<br/><br/>“<strong>I've seen plenty of your sorts before. There are others out there who can fight, but few who are free to do so of their own volition. I've lost a scouting party out in the space between Krinsest and here. It's about half-a-day's walk from here to there, so they should have been back by now. It's unusual, but I want you lot to go and figure out what's keeping them. Fifty Gold Each, and not a coin more, if you're back by Sundown tomorrow. One rogue tribe of Centaurs shouldn't be able to cause my trackers any trouble...</strong>” He reached into a pouch at his side, pulling out a pinch of Sheep's wool. Rubbing it between his middle finger and his thumb, he traces a shape through the air.<br/><br/>Apparating in front of them, a miniature sculpt of a man appears. Tanned like the Overseer's, but much younger. This soldier has plentiful brown hair and a messy set of sideburns. He wears the same uniform as Viryian.<br/><br/>“<strong>This is the man who is leading my scouts. His name is Kythis. Hopefully he's still alive enough for me to tan his hide for being late, but he is the one to look for. Any questions?</strong>”<br/><br/><div align="center">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/b3/07/ff/b307ff8dd520a4fa62753151f712d112.jpg)<br/><em>Kythis, leader of the scouts, as conjured by the Overseer's Minor Illusion</em></div>