It was an especially sullen Gimgroth that plodded along the path with the Company of the Burning Slug. The death of Regine, a woman he had not had the pleasure of getting to know deeply, was dwarfed by his grief of leaving Beatrice in the care of others. No matter how much sense it made Gimgroth felt deep down that he was betraying the memory of Beatrice's father by once again leaving the girl in the care of others. With his head buried into his chest he was one of the last to notice the approaching horsemen. As they rode up he shook his shield into place and rested his warhammer over his shoulder as he waited for the more well spoken of the company to make the proper introductions.