It was a small and simple room. Rough stone walls, a wooden ceiling with old beams, and the smell of dirt and smoke hung in the air.
Daniel sat on a wooden chair, one leg crossed over the other, his elbow resting on the armrest.
In front of him stood a thin old man with a long white beard. Beside him, an elderly woman with a kind but tired face nervously clasped her hands together.
"Let me introduce myself. I'm Garol, the elder of this village. And this is my wife, Mira," the old man said with a cough.
"We're truly grateful to you, Hero. If it weren't for you and your companions, today… today they'd be collecting our corpses," Mira said with her head bowed.
"It's fine. But I'm curious… does this kind of thing happen often? Attacks by red orcs?" Daniel gave a faint smile.
When he asked about the village chief, the old man and woman had come out and introduced themselves.
