The mad sat with a nod of thanks, accepting the stew and drink with a smile, “My thanks, may the Spirit of the land bless you.” In-between taking bites of food he told his tale.<br/><br/>“I have a small holding slightly out of the village, on the edge of the forest. My wife and three young daughters, I have not been blessed with sons. Inside the forest there is a ruined tower, some say it was home to a mage but it has been deserted for a long time. The Kobolds occasionally venture near but the young men of the village normally get together and drive them away.”<br/><br/>He breaks off a chunk of bread, “But the young fools have heard of a ruin being found up at Little Meadow and they have gone up there with their heads full of gold, a king’s ransom from the way they talk. So the Kobolds came and there was no one to drive them away. They set up camp in the ruined tower and then they stole my Daisy, the little sods, may their balls drop off.”<br/><br/>Dipping his bread he eats and then, “I followed the tracks and they have her at the ruins. Milking her for now but I fear that soon their thoughts will turn to steaks. But as much as I fear for Daisy I fear for my daughters even more. The Kobolds are bound to become more daring if there is no response to the theft and they take slaves.”<br/><br/>He stopped talking apparently by the thought of his daughters being dragged away to slavery.<br/>