Deepwood Weald Damsel needing forest guide

He had settled into a nice, easy gait when her voice brought him to a standstill. Rusalka. It rang in his ears like church bells, and it took him a moment to find his tongue again, turning to stare at her. Rusalka? he confirmed, his brows arcing high. I've heard of 'em. What brings you out here seekin' 'em out?

Ah, this could be it. This could be the valuable intel they needed. Vulcan suppressed a giddy grin, thinking about how proud Eartha would be that he had seized the means to give her what she wanted.

If they found Rusalka, they would find the ones who'd wronged his captain. Blood would be shed. Vengeance would be theirs.

I came from the seashore, Vulcan replied, trying to keep his nose trained on the path he'd taken as he began to forge ahead once more, careful not to leave her too far behind. I'm lookin' for a friend of mine that might be around these parts. But I've had no luck on the coast.