Lorenor decided that he'd best offer the beef and meats he'd been rationing for some time now.

He was a fair games-hunter on occasion when the moment provided need for such. Lorenor considered the injured state of Garron, and everything he'd just learned. "Salvar." The old man repeated carefully, his eyes went distant for a brief moment as he thought about his past. He'd been to Salvar before on many an adventure, and even had license to practice the arcane arts there. The Hammer is Dwarven craftsmanship...I should have known... He mentally took note of the blacksmith that Garron mentioned.

Torgrin is a fairly interesting Dwarf-name. I've only met a few personally...but they've been agreeable fellows. Good mead drinkers... Lorenor thought back for a long moment as he attempted to remember anyone named Torgrin in his adventures. "The man certainly likes secrecy for I have not heard of the fellow." Lorenor explained. "Rangers are good folks...a little bit strange at times. But good folks nonetheless." Lorenor rubbed his chin as he looked at Nevin and Garron. "I have rations I can spare in case you fellows don't want to go back into the city. I personally don't care for the noise either." The old Paladin said calmly. He hunted boar and other such small game and monsters from time to time. More out of raw habit than anything else...he didn't need to actually eat or sleep.

The man waited to hear what Nevin and Garron would say at that point. He looked at Garron one more time. "I've been to Salvar a few times in my...life."