I pocket my 90 coppers and look around for anyone else in need of my services. I see a Hobbit standing nearby, which is a pleasant surprise.
It really is nice to see a friendly face at eye level for once. Maybe one of the reasons I hate humans so much is because I always end up looking them in the crotch?
Posco Burrows is worried about his uncle. It seems the two of them were having tea when his uncle Filbert heard about these brigands and their attack on Archet. Outraged, he got up, left his tea, and went off to give them a piece of his mind.
"Oh Posco, I'm sorry to hear that." I place a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Old people do sometimes go senile like that. Heartbreaking. If it's of any comfort, he probably didn't suffer too much."
"What?" he says, shrugging my hand off, "No, I was hoping you'd find him for me!"
I nod my head, "Of course. Sorry. You want me to recover his body so we can give him a proper send-off. Understood. Sorry. I've been hanging around humans lately. You wouldn't believe what their funerals are like."
"No, no! I just want you to see if he needs help."
"Posco, your elderly uncle ran off alone and unarmed into the heart of the brigand hideout to say rude things to them. The only help we can give him now is to make sure we pick out a good suit to have him buried in."
"Please, No more talk of him being dead!" Posco protests, "Just go and talk to him."
The poor lad is in denial, but I guess I can't blame him. I charge off into the bandit-infested woods in search of poor Uncle Filbert.
He's about twenty paces in, looking fiery and indignant.