(IC) The Witchwood
As you see Redoran, the one leading the horse, you see him turn to the dwarf walking next to him. "You were right!" He says in a friendly manner, patting the dwarf on the back, "Not hobgoblins. Hopefully these are the ones we're looking for." The scales on Redoran's skin glint in a slightly darker silver then the mithril breastplate he wears, as the light of the fire reflects off it.
He puts on a friendly smile as he calls out to the individuals, waving his hand, "Well met fellow travelers! It's a pleasure to meet you. The mayor of Drellen's Ferrey said there might be some individuals looking for a little aid in these dark times. My name's Redoran, and this stalwart fellow," he gestures towards the dwarf, "Is Kharath. The one with a long face behind me," he nods in the direction of his horse, "Is Iron Foot. How do you all fair?" he asks in a friendly manner.