Paladins: Laina and Raven in the Sitting Room.

Laina shook her head. "It was a nudge from the goddess," she said. "There was something she wanted me to see here."

The old man Choran nodded and looked over to Raven, who shrugged and said: "I go where she goes."

"You've seen them, then?" the old man asked, stroking his silver beard. "The things that try to come onto our lands?"

"What?" asked Laina. "No, what do you mean?"

"They're little things," said Choran. "We can't see them, mostly. They giggle when they make their mischief. I think they caused the illness that made the workers so hostile."

Your workers are dead, Laina thought, but decided not to have that conversation again.  "How often do they come?"

"A handful every week. But excuse me, I'm being rude. Would either of you like some brandy?" He picked up his glass from the side table, gestured with it. 

"Not yet, but I thank you," said Laina. Raven just shook her head. 

"Ah, well," said the old man, and tossed off the glass. "That'll make it awkward to propose a toast."

"We're not much for toasts," said Raven. 

"Not until we've had a chance to actually help out," Laina added. "Can you tell us what's going on here?"

The old man looked at his empty glass, then set it aside with a look of regret. "It's not really my story to tell," he said. 

"No," said a woman's voice from behind them. "It's mine."