Neverwinter Forest I lost 'im, gov.

Despite the increasing rain giving him the appearance of a great drowned dog, and his failure being even more of a downer than that, Goldhawk could not help but smile through the rain as he caught sight of the strapping pair. Ah, he really was very fond of them both both. Little flashes of the time he'd spent with each of them kicked him back into optimism — he remembered bowing to Eshe as she faithfully welcomed him into Neverwinter, he remembered running at Scimitar's side, teaching Eshe how to shadow-box with a tree, showing Scimitar the ballad he'd written, and conversing with them both about Silvertip and Goober and other such matters. Yes... they were fair and gracious leaders, and he had faith that they would not cast him out for this.

So, after repositioning himself so that all three warriors were stood beneath the cover of a towering pine, Goldhawk gave a low bow and raindrops slid off the end of his handsome nose. Our quarry has vanished — I'm gosh darn sorry to admit that I had to either give up hope or spend a lifetime out there. I was very close, he explained, as I reported to you, m'lord, he blinked up at the man, avoiding his eyes submissively. I got so far as to become acquainted with a self-proclaimed friend of Goober's — Samuel was his name, or is his name I should say. But then that was it, lack a day, he sighed. I kept to our innocuous story good and proper, but my wager is this: when Samuel told Goober of a friend-of-a-friend, Goober smelt a rat and bolted. But who can say what really happened? Not ole Goldhawk here, he admitted in sad conclusion.