Godric is set to help the good folk of the hillside refuge. They speak of men driven to plunder old graves by lack of food and hardship. So respect dies in the north it seems; pushed to the edge by hard times. The local folk speak of evil-enamoured men and women, moving towards the ruins of the lake-side city. Leaving Godric to work with them may reveal more of what is happening here.
For myself, I return to Tinnudir. It seems a reasonable site for what few fighting men there are. An island with one bridge, ruined fortifications - one of many scattered like dice across these northern hills - and what seems an intact hall. They deny me entrance however.
Again I have met the northerner. I do not know if it is chance, or if he is deliberately seeking me out. He seems drawn to the lake, as though it has set some charm upon him. What he sees in it I cannot fathom. The water is iron grey most times, and bitterly cold. There is little joy to be gained from bathing in such waters. Grey lake, grey sky, grey rain - even his eyes are grey and the hair at his temples. Is there no colour or life in these stone-hearted lands?
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