The road to Ashvale is supposed to take two days. It took three, mostly because the party stopped to negotiate with a crow that claimed to know where the vault entrance was, in exchange for “a shiny thing, any shiny thing, please.”
The ambush on night two was a highlight — a pack of quill-backed hounds that nearly took down our newest member before the crow, unprompted, dive-bombed one of them. Longtime bird truthers at the table felt vindicated.