They have options up until Caspar hears that shout. After that, they really only have one. He gives Nikos a quick look and a very small nod, then he turns back to the men, stepping forward and raising a hand in answer.

"You've heard correctly, yes. We are here in service of the Grand Cleric. You may be with her as well, if you're willing— we've come seeking help."

He speaks loudly enough to be distracting, gesturing liberally as he does; it's a very good impression of friendly modesty. His accent sheds a full decade of exile, thicker than it was a few seconds ago, and each step forward puts him farther ahead of the group. It will be difficult for their suspicious friend to watch all four at once.

"Perhaps you've also heard that our trip through these woods was not planned. A worthwhile diversion, paying tribute to the dead. But we've run into some trouble with the wheels in all this mud. We were hoping your smoke might lead us to more bodies, admittedly, but one man more might be enough."

With her and more bodies are, of course, the direction.