The party spoke with the mayor and his cousins for a short while longer before deciding to retire for the evening. They would meet Dorbin the following morning at Jon Harkin's farmhouse, which lay a short distance outside the village.
The inn had a few larger rooms upstairs directly above the tavern area. They had been built specifically to accommodate visitors of larger stature, and had a handful of moderately sized beds in each. The innkeeper led Morgan, Zanadar, Renna and the old man to an empty one and thanked Elandar again for his story. The halfling lit a few large candles, which adorned the walls, before bidding them goodnight.
The room, while bigger than most at the inn, was still quite cozy. A small window about midway up the far wall overlooked the back of the building. The wooden floorboards creaked slightly as they walked into the room and the muffled voices of the few patrons who still remained at the tavern below could barely be heard through the thick timber. Morgan was tired though, he knew the soft noise would not bother him at all.
The old man glanced around the room, muttered a few curses under his breath, set his staff against the wall and placed his hat atop it. He then collapsed into bed, falling into a heavy slumber almost immediately. Within minutes, the big man had removed his traveling gear and also lay stretched out, sleeping deeply. Morgan sat on the edge of his bed and took off his boots. He rubbed his eyes wearily and looked towards Elandar. The old wizard was snoring loudly, he sounded oddly content.
Just then, Morgan felt weight on the bed next to him.
"I bet he's doing that on purpose," Renna said quietly, sitting down beside him.
Morgan nodded in agreement. "That would not surprise me at all." He turned towards the stable hand. She was staring at him, a peculiar look in her large brown eyes.
"What?" he asked suspiciously.
She shifted her gaze away from the ranger, eyeing the two occupied beds on the other side of the room. "What are we doing with them?" she asked seriously. "I don't understand anything that has happened today."
Morgan yawned slightly and exhaled. He looked down to his worn backpack, which sat on the floor at the base of the bed. He stared at it for a moment, and then shrugged. "We're here to see what is killing the Halfling's pigs," he said finally.
"And you need them for that?" Renna retorted, unconvinced.
"I don't know why Adlus sent Zanadar along with me... or sent me along with him. Or why Elandar is even here."
"And what about this morning? What was that?"
Morgan could only shake his head. "I don't know," he said helplessly.
"Those men..." she trailed off.
He gave the stable hand a reassuring look. "I don't think that had anything to do with us."
She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Morgan!" Renna whispered harshly, her voice catching briefly, "They tried to kill us."
"Listen," he said, "All I know is that the worst place to be right now is in New Targonor. We should just stay down here for a little while, find the wolves that are probably killing the pigs and then go back after things have settled down. We don't even have to go back with those two," Morgan added, "We can let them go first and follow later.
"I don't know why what happened this morning happened, Renna, and I don't know what it is they aren't telling us. But what I do know, is that I will not let anyone else try and hurt you, all right?"
She gave the ranger a crooked smile. "You'll protect me from anyone?" she asked with a mock innocence.
Morgan frowned. "Don't push your luck," he said, trying not to sound embarrassed. He hated it when she did that. She always did that.
Renna smirked, then stood up and began to walk back towards her bed. She paused after a few steps, and turned.
"Morgan?" she whispered softly.
"Yes?" he said, still frowning.
"Thank you."
As most had recently, morning came sooner than Morgan would have liked. He awoke to a bright ray of sunlight streaming through the window and across his face. He squinted and looked around the room.
Elandar was still sound asleep. Renna sat on her bed, running a simple looking brush through her long dark hair. The big man was nowhere to be seen, his sword and armor noticeably missing.
"You look like you are not ready to wake up yet," the stable hand observed, seeing Morgan look about the room.
"When this is done I am going to sleep for a week," the ranger stated matter-of-factly. Morgan groaned audibly and sat up in bed. He had a sour taste in his mouth and an uncomfortable cramp in his neck. "Where is Zanadar?"
"Downstairs," she answered. "He said to wake Elandar up and come down whenever you are ready."
Morgan stretched his arms out in from of him for a moment, and then yawned expansively.
"You don't look ready," Renna offered.
"I'm fine," the ranger protested. He swung his legs out of bed and stood up gingerly, peering over at the sleeping old man. "This ought to be fun," he said under his breath. He glanced at the dark haired stable hand, "I don't suppose you would like the honors?"
She shook her head and smiled sweetly. "All yours."
"Wonderful," Morgan muttered as he walked over to the other side of the room. He stopped just next to Elandar's bed and leaned in closer, though making a careful effort not to touch the old man.
"Elandar," he said briskly, "We need to go."
He did not move.
Morgan sighed and sagged his shoulders. "Elandar," he repeated, louder this time, "wake up."
Still, there was no response from the old man. The ranger leaned back for a second, thinking. He glanced contemplatively at the old man's staff, which was leaning against the wall next to the bed. He looked back to the sleeping wizard and cautiously began inching his outstretched hand towards it.
Just as the tips of his fingers were about to touch the worn old stave, Elandar's eyes shot open, immediately focusing squarely upon Morgan, with a markedly unfriendly look. The ranger recoiled back, taking his hand away from the staff. He smiled slightly.
"That worked well," Renna called from the other side of the room.
Elandar, still glaring at Morgan, shot the stable hand a quick sidelong glance, his beard twitching slightly. "What worked well?" he asked dubiously.
"We need to go, get up so we can go downstairs," the ranger explained.
The old man narrowed his eyes. "I see," he said coolly. He slowly rose from bed, snatched his hat from its perch and placed it on his head. He turned back to Morgan, his wrinkled purple robes swishing about, staring at him coldly.
"Stay away from my staff," he growled.
A few minutes later the three were coming downstairs to meet Zanadar. When they arrived back at the inn's tavern the big man was sitting at a table, tapping his foot impatiently.
"What were you doing out so early?" Elandar inquired.
"I was just looking around a bit," Zanadar explained.
"Oh?" Morgan said, his interest slightly piqued.
"Yes, we need to go right now."
"Why is that?" Renna asked.
"Because I saw the footprint Dorbin was telling us about."
Morgan tried to search the big man's face for answers. "What did it look like?"
Zanadar leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table in front of him. "We are not dealing with wolves."
