"I don't know, Marin. Whatever it is, they took the time to conceal it.. so I'd think it may have some value." Caedmon continues probing amongst the barrels.
"You know, Marin, I have a feeling that the letter refers to the legions of gnolls that stormed through here about forty years ago. The same legions that burned down my village, Oakhollow. It was during this raid that my grandfather quickly got my grandmother out of the village and into a hiding place along the river with her one and only son, my father. He stayed behind to defend Oakhollow and that is where he took his last stand. Many died that day, and those who managed to escape have since rebuilt the town and instilled a deep resentment for all gnoll kind."
Upon that last sentence, Caedmon, gives a good strong thrust of anger into one of the barrels, his visage slightly darkened as the word gnoll rolls off his tongue.