"Winter... quiet winter... let's hope it justs stays that way!"
"You know that chap with the feather in his hat? I hear he's quite the devil of a thief he is."
"What's with all these Gypsies of late? They're worse than rats, that lot."
"I was sitting by my fireplace, stirring a pot of stew, when suddenly a horde of flaming rats came pouring down the chimney, spitting fire all over the place until my hut was a pile of embers. Only by the grace of Valos did I make it out before the roof collapsed... the last thing we need here are fire-breathing rats."
"Truth be told, I don't think we'll be any better off this year"
"Nobody knows I bury m'gold behind m'barn *hic* but hey, buddy, don't tell anyone"
"But I tell you I'm not crazy, all that howling can only mean one thing!"
"My daughter's been going about the house singing the strangest song... I think it goes "Bellum Clamor Labor Laboriositus." I wonder what it means"
"Did you hear old Jeb says he saw some old witch livin’ in a cave just outside the proper out by the Johnson place? Says she knows things would raise the hair off the back o’ yur neck!"
"Luke and Tom was out hunting for supper when they come across an old tomb. Was being broken into and all ransacked. Only this time…the robbers weren’t alive! Was the undead themselves. Like they was lookin’ for somthin’."
"I tell ya, the wolves have been getting much bolder lately. They've come and stolen away a sheep or two every week."
"The inn is now coming to the folk and making reservations!? hot diggity!"
"Have you heard? That travlin' priest fella, August King, finally made his way over to Travance!"