Talton takes a few minutes before speaking. With a deep sigh he addresses those gathered.
I will pray on it. I have no access to a library this far North. While I would recognize some of the runes and possibly some of the ceremonies…I’m really not sure.
He slowly wipes the wet snowflakes forming on the brim of his helmet to the ground and takes another glance around the village.
As for the possibility…after what I’ve seen in my short life I’m open to anything under the bright sun. Pelor knows, if this beast made a pack with a fiend or found a long forgotten mystical formula it is possible. It wouldn’t be my first guess without some proof; but, I think I trust Alma’s judgement. In terms of assessing an opponent that is.
Letting the great weight of his armor and gear shift to his other leg Talton tries to get everyone’s attention by looking them in the eyes.
I will check out the Hoffsteader farm again and then head out to the Mill. Keep this in mind though…what are we doing? Are we going to track these godless creatures so they can’t rampage the Northmen…or do we strike out for the Plainspeople so that we can compare stories and find a fix to this mess?
He stands there, as if expecting everyone to give an answer.