Grimbjorn just stood looking silently at the swashbuckler, his eye seeming to trap his visage in amber once again. His face was stony, like the face of a mountain with thunderclouds looming behind it. But before the first roll of thunder could be heard, others were asking him questions. He turned his gaze to them.<br/><br/>"The map is here for you to look at. If you want to try to copy it go ahead. But it only stays as long as I do, so scribble with speed." He growled before pinning his gaze on Viktor. "You are the third group I have told this story in the last tenday. I just came back from a brief three day scout in the Moor. Both of the previous parties didn't even survive a full days travel into the Moor. Which is unusual this close to Secomber. Seems someone else is interested in preventing interested parties from entering the Moor for awhile. Since you asked so nice, I'll even show you my souvenir from the last battle site."<br/><br/>With that he tossed a small black badge, the sort that would be used to clasp ones cloak, onto the table. The mark of the Zhentarim was clear to see upon the badge.<br/><br/>"You brave lads and lasses aren't afraid of the boogey men are ya?"