Kissingersee

I stopped by the roadside inns en route. The road from Balon to Kissingersee also heads northwards into the grasslands and the halfling villages therein. I chatted with any workers in the inns who would have been old enough to remember my mother. I thought perhaps a woman, especially a pregnant woman, traveling alone might be remembered. But I didn’t turn up anything useful. I did learn that Aunt Nim and her wagon goes to Balon about once a month. She takes a wagon of bread and other simple foods and such to Balon, and then heads home a few days later with an empty wagon.