Lispeth glared at the giant. He seemed to shrink before her glare, and despite being over 10 feet taller than the Eladrin, he just seemed so much shorter than her. “What did you see?!”, she demanded angrily. “Where did they go?”
The giant fumbled his words. His sense of loss and hopeless clearly written on his face and shrunken shoulders. “They went that way.” He pointed North-East. “They took the bound man and threw him on the winged thing and flew that way.”
“Who were they?” came the Eladrin’s next question.
The giant, his eyes darting among the rest of the party members, replied, “Torg doesn’t know. Only know there were four men. Two looked the same. They looked like soldiers. One man wore green gloves, red robes, and a red cape. One man had a patch and many blades.”
“I want names!”, yelled the Eladrin.
The giant, who could finally crouch no lower, blurted out quickly, “Torg doesn’t know names. Just know man in cape was leader. Man with patch ordered other two men. All of them got on winged beast and flew away. The cloak had a symbol with a swirl, with crescents with circles with rings, and a wave. Had many tattoos.”