<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/fuUkYn0.jpg)<br/><br/>(http://i.imgur.com/GXGrxKt.jpg)</div><br/><em>"That *is* strange," she murmured, touching a hand to her chin - "Why would they...?"</em>Color suddenly rising to Lucille's cheeks.<br/><br/>The priest nodded his head,<strong>"Indeed.  No one wants to speak of it, but doubtlessly you have reached the same conclusions as the rest of the town."</strong><br/><br/><em>"Then - I shall travel to the homestead as soon as possible. Their trail should be simple to follow from there. I'll bring them back, Father. This I vow, in Pelor's name." </em>Lucille said with conviction.<br/><br/>The old priest nodded and smiled again,<strong>"Of this I have no doubt.  Arcadia would not have sent one of your order had they not thought you capable of dealing with a few orcs.  But before you leave town, see Timir, the owner of the tavern.  Tell him I sent you and to give you some trail rations to take along.  It is about a three hour walk at a swift pace to the Yinil homestead, and might take you longer with your heavy armor.  From there, our militia men reported that they saw signs of orc trails heading north west.  Not sure how far you might have to track them, but you'll go faster if you don't have to try to stop and hunt, and while I'm sure Pelor strengthens your arm, faith alone does a poor job at filling a belly."</strong><br/><br/>He turned and spread his palm, an old sign of Pelor, one that wasn't often seen in more civilized lands, but wasn't terribly rare.<strong>"Go with the sunfather's blessing daughter, and best of luck on your journey."</strong><br/><br/><hr/><br/>The streets of the small town were not crowded, but they were active, as locals bustled about in the early morning light.  They seemed eager to get the market square, bake bread, or do one of a thousand other things necessary to life in a small town.  Eyes glanced her way as she passed, but it was unclear if it was due to her fantastic shining armor, or the soft supple curves beneath, visible through the gaps in said armor.  While some knights preferred hulking suits of plate and chain that left no amount weakness at least partially covered, Lucille had never fully subscribed to that theory.  The weight of such armor was a major impediment, and the lack of mobility would allow a nimble opponent to stick even the smallest blade into the creases of said armor, killing a knight as they bled inside their tomb of steel.  No, Lucille's armor covered all major vitals, but left her with enough flexibility to swing her sword or dodge away from blows as needed.<br/><br/>She found the tavern at the back of a bright and open air alley way and pressed inside.  The sign on the door showed a stylized rock rolling down a hill above gilded letters announcing that it was the "Bouncing stone" tavern.  There was likely a story behind that name, but now wasn't the time.  Entering she found a few patrons hunched over bowls of stew, their morning meal no doubt.  But a small bell over the door announced her presence and only a moment or two later a very clean looking half elf stepped out from a door behind the bar.  With pierced ears, a partially shaved head, a light white linen shirt, and a wry grin on his face, his gaze took in Lucille for a moment before he gathered a beer mug from the bar top and began cleaning it, saying,<strong>"Stranger, you must be the knight that showed up last night from Arcadia eh?  Name's Timir, welcome to the Bouncing Stone, what can I get for you?"</strong>