You spend most of the day riding over high moors on a well-worn path. Come the afternoon, you spy a few dozen figures walking along the road toward you, all of them on foot. After assuring the couple who seem to be leading the group that your warriors pose no threat, you ask where they are headed.
"Away from Stonerun," says the woman, "now that both Garulf and Myrshala have laid claim to it. My sister lives in the Dragon Islands and says there may be work for us there. Perhaps you could spare some supplies for our journey, and we could give you something in return?"
The man brings forth a cloth-covered bundle containing a finely made mail shirt and a talisman featuring a large claw set into a bronze fixture. "The talisman was my mother's," he says. "She claimed it helped her talk to the gods."
"The shirt is a gift from my sister," explains the woman, "made by a smith of the Dragon Islands. It's meant to be a fine piece, but thankfully I've not had to use it. Help us, and we'll happily part with one of these. The talisman or the armor, it's your choice."