A mountainside. A few modest houses.

Brimley: Were there others?

Jamet: Aye, but no many. Reckon they’s a just be passing through.

Brimley: Fish will keep them a few days. Once they have their lot, they’ll be moving on.

Jamet: True. They’d already been working the nets when I sees them.

Brimley: Nets? Them sounds organized, like. You sure they didna have no uniforms.

Jamet: Not that I could sees. A few hats looked professional made, right, but that don’t mean more than they been for a stop at the milliner down in Colston.

Brimley: Still curious. Make sure you keep eyes on them, like. Travellers in fine hats with nets are no nomads.

Jamet: Aye. You’s think it’s unwise try and trade with ‘em. They didn’t look hostile, mind. I could use some tools and I’ve plenty of chickens I could offer.

Brimley: No harm, no. They’ll spot the village when they clear the pass sooner or later. Better to make ourselves known first.

Rustling of a strong wind gust through the trees. A dragon flies overhead.

Jamet: Not sure if that changes much, like?

Brimley: Aye.