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The Dwarf seemed the most restless of anyone, but in a different way from everyone else. There wasn’t an edge of nervousness to him: he purely seemed to desire action, and discussion obviously wasn’t quite his forte. He had been quiet for some time, except for a few grunts, and so Parkun had nearly forgotten he was there. But apparently this topic interested Kuric: perhaps the old warrior was perking up because he thought they were close to the kill.
“There have been stories about Old Jak for years, and people like to talk about sightings. He’s a man of sorts, a strange one, who lives like a wild beast in the forest. Or so it’s said. I’ve heard some interesting things about him…things about him eating raw meat and even still skulking about the town sometimes, watching people.”
He paused again, casting his eyes about to see several faces who knew precisely what he was talking about, but who still found themselves wanting to look over their shoulders. Parkun kept his expression and tone somber, though he made it seem like he was trying to speak more lightly and optimistically when he continued.
“Well, they are just stories…”
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