Horek decides that subterfuge is not likely needed here. These three have somehow figured out their intent, though the barbarian is sure that most who come this way eventually wind up within the mysterious mine.

"Many thanks for your warning, strangers." Horek states as they begin to leave. "But if you would stay another moment, I would ask a question. We met a dwarf, who died a few yards from our camp last night. He apparently suffered a fatal wound that glistened with a bluish fluid around the edges. Was he of your group also? Do you know anything of that substance?"

If the three men stay to answer the questions, Horek will invite them to share their fire and food. Whether they refuse or decline, he will also ask them one last question.

"The dwarf carried a note with a riddle..." He looks to Duras to see if the paladin's memory of the words is clearer. "Something about a cart and a shrine? Does that sound familiar? Perhaps one of us should get the wizard girl..."

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Horek Varshot
Deep bronze skin and the red body paint that decorates the face of this large man combine to mark him as one of true Flannish origin. The plainsman carries a sturdy longbow and a huge sword is strapped tightly to his back. Studded leather armor peeks out from beneath a cloak made from the hide of a large black bear and a necklace decorated with huge claws completes the picture of this fearsome barbarian. The scowl upon his face along with hard, piercing eyes warn you that disturbing this quiet man might be considered foolhardy unless there is good reason.