The sleepy village of Heldren has rarely seen so much excitement or concern. Even though it is the height of summer, hunters from the nearby Border Wood speak of unnaturally cold weather that descended on the forest just days ago. Heavy snow followed, and those who returned spoke of an uneasy presence in the woods, as well as new, dangerous predators. No one knows what this event means, but the town’s soothsayer, Old Mother Theodora, claims dark times lie ahead.
As if in proof of that dire prophecy, the story of a badly wounded mercenary arriving in town yesterday is on the lips of every villager. Apparently, he claimed to be a bodyguard of Lady Argentea Malassene and told the village council that the noblewoman’s escort came under attack. But not just by bandits - they were accompanied by strange, wintry creatures.
He alone escaped, and Lady Argentea was dragged away into the forest. Many of the townsfolk cast fearful eyes toward the Border Wood, worried what else might emerge to threaten their peaceful village.
Bryce walked into the village a flood of memories rushing through his head, there was the general store his father would come to trade at. He could remember the sweet taste of the rock candy they kept in a jar on the counter. I wondered if they still sell those, dad would often buy me a stick when I was well behaved on our trips into town. Farther along he passed the barber shop and cringed remembering when he got nicked in the neck while squirming in the seat. I must have been about five summers old then. Passing the temple and then the hut the old wise woman lived in he pondered if she was still alive and if so would she know anything that could help him. What was her name...Mother Pheoda? The sounds of the tavern drew him and the smell of cooking food rumbled his belly and he entered the Silver Stoat removing his hat and kicking the dust from his boots.
Looking around the place looked the same as it had the day he left Haldren twelves summers back, but he didn't recognize a soul. Chilled from the unseasonably cold weather he strolled up to the bar, "Pardon keeper, might I get a hot cider and a bowl of soup or stew? Anything that might warm me up after my long trek would be nice. There is an unusual chill in the air for this time of year I must say." Waiting for the drink and food, he listens to the murmuring of the gathered townsfolk, Lady Malassene, missing and wounded escort is in town? I faired well alone on the road, Thanks be to Pharasma.
Ragnar had collapsed at the edge of the village days ago. He didn't really remember his trek through the frozen wood. Just bits and pieces. Lots of walking. The children's excitement. Seeing smoke in the distance.
He didn't know why the villagers had decided to help him. He didn't know how they had gotten him into the tiny bed that his feet hung out of so far that they nearly touched the ground. He didn't know what they had made him drink. He didn't know who the man in the other bed near him was, or where the man had gotten such savage wounds. He just knew that for the first time since he was a child, so very, very long ago, he was warm.
It had been a long journey for Nosh, and despite his best attempts, his journey had been rather dull. Still, he had added a few new pieces to his collection, particularly a nice piece of glass from Sandpoint and odd shaped metal piece of cold iron resembling a lowercase "r".
Just a couple more pieces, perhaps I can find what I need near Heldren. I wonder if anything interesting happens here? Is it always this cold? I'm hungry, ooo a Tavern.
Entering the tavern, Nosh makes his way to the bar, stopping along the way to adjust his pouches and gear. luckily he also manages to pick up pieces of the gossip. Reaching the bar, he climbs a stool next to a man, noticing the mans pistol and overhearing his order.
"I'll have the same!" Nosh calls after the Tavern keeper.
turning towards Bryce "Nice pistol, I'm working on building one of my own, just need a few more pieces. Sure is cold out there, I wonder if those wintry creatures from the border woods brought the cold. Maybe I can see one of them..."
Bazikian skipped into town, though he was weary - an old Varisian storyteller had once told him that the ancient people of Varisia, the mighty men of old, had skipped while travelling overland, as the body could go further than walking that way - his backpack jouncing on his back. Slung over his shoulder was a gnome-sized crossbow, and at his belt bounced numerous flasks and pouches. His carrot-coloured hair flopped around madly behind the gaudy Varisian scarf that served as a bandana.
He slowed to a walk as he entered the village proper and, panting slightly, he adjusted the scale armour that chafed on his shoulder. His eyes darted left and right as he walked, taking in his surroundings. How quaint this hamlet is! I hope the people are friendly... Ahead, he spotted the smoking chimney of what looked to be an inn, or at least a tavern. Hot food and ale, that's what this body needs, he thought with a smile, and he turned his feet towards the comfortable-looking building.
Bryce is startled by the arrival of the little man, copying his order and prattling on like the two of them where old chums. Should I remember him? I don't recall any gnomes living here back then but.... His hand drops to the grip of the pistol slung on his waist, "Uh, thank you it is nothing special but it serves me well. Yes it is indeed a might cold for the season, not sure if some creatures cold bring the cold or not. More likely they cold brought them, still never heard of such a thing happening around Heldren before." As he spoke Bryce tried to place the mans face, capture any memory that would give him a clue to who this gnome was. "I beg your pardon, have we met?"
Morrigan listens from where she sits a few tables down, finishing her dinner of stew, bread, and butter. All the talk lately had been the unseasonable weather, and of course the arrival of the wounded guard and the tales he brought. It was all very... unsettling. If what he said was true, then there was no getting around it now... unseasonable cold snaps might occur on their own, but when they did they soon moved on - and they did not bring with them fell creatures out of the north. In truth, she did not know what to make of it all, and that bothered her. She did not like not knowing. Perhaps she should look into it.
Pushing her chair back, she rises and walks up to the barkeep with her mug in hand. "That hot cider does sound good on an evening like this. I would take some as well."
Seeing the newcomer Bryce enter the tavern, Menander Garimos, the owner of the tavern slides over and greets him with a smile. "Welcome, sir. Glad to get those for ye," he says warmly. He then yells back to the kitchen, "Kale, bowl o' soup, if ya' would!" He repeats that effort when Nosh arrives and then moves back to talk with three other villagers nearby.
"As I was saying, the word is some Qadiran agents are responsible for this damnable cold," one of them, a wiry, older man said. "It's snowing in the wood - what sort of magic did those Qadirans get their hands on?!"
"Ai, tis possible," a grey-haired, haggard-looking man says. "I was chatting with ol' Man Dansby this mornin'. He claims that someone has been stealing from his fields. His plot o' land's closest to the Wood, so maybe those agents are stealin' his crop? Poor man - losin' have to theivin', half to the frost. Don' seem right."
"Ya think those agents are responsible for the attack on that mercenary? Why'd they do such a thing?" the final man says. "What do those Qadirans want with us?"
The three are interrupted by Morrigan's coming to the bar and placing an order. Menander smiles warmly and pours her a flagon as Kale, his wife, brings two bowls of piping hot soup for Nosh and Bryce.
Moments later, a third newcomer - amazingly also a gnome - enters the tavern.
"What in the Divines?! What brings you all to Heldren? You here to investigate our wintry mystery?" Menander, the owner of the tavern, asked with a smile.
"Have we met? I don't think so, I would remember, I have a good memory you know. I'm Nosh. Mmmm this soup is good, wonder what's in it. Qadirans, wonder if they have any useful items on them?"
it's not very nice to steal a poor old man's crops. Wonder who that mercenary is, would my new friend mind if I took apart his pistol, just to see how t works?
While finishing his soup, Nosh casts a few glances at Bryce's pistol, a look of wishful longing creeping into his mind. By the time he's done eating, Nosh's attention is back on the conversation the other patrons are having.
"Ah, Well met then Nosh. I am Bryce and yes the soup here is good." Seeing the gnomes eyes dart to his weapon curiously mixed with the echo of the phrase "wonder if they have any useful items on them?" makes Bryce wary of his new acquaintance. He slides his stool a short arms distance away and turns his attention to the soup curious that a second patron has followed his lead and ordered a hot cider. I have never been a trend setter before. He sips the hot soup and cider letting it warm him inside out as the barkeep and his friends chat. Dansby, I wonder if his plot was near ours? Then the chill from outside fills the room as another guest arrives, and Bryce starts to ponder the fates that a third stranger would stroll into an off the track town like Heldren in the same day, especially with such strange events occurring. "What is the latest news bar keep? Seems to be some strange goings on around here?"
"Aye, strange indeed," Menander replies. "Ya' musta felt the bite in the air - it's colder than than the calendar says it should be, don't ya think? With the cold have come rumors of strange creatures in the Wood. Creatures of the sort we ain't seen around these parts before. Add the fact that we've had not one, but two strangers - one of 'em a giant of a man - stumble into our village half-dead in the past few days and I'd say 'strange' might not be strong enough a word for it."
Bazikian through the common room straight to the bar. Reaching an empty barstool that sits beside another gnome, Bazikian climbs up to stand atop the stool. Hands behind his back, he waits patiently (but obviously) for the attention of the barkeep, humming an old Varisian melody.
Bryce starts to ask a question and then thinks [i]I was so young when I left I have no idea who runs this place...mayor, council...,"So what are the powers that be doing about it? A threat from Qadir is not something to ignore. Has word been sent to the stronghold at Zimar, have defenses been prepared?"
The past few days have been little more than a blur as you've passed from cloudy consciousness to blacked-out peace. Today, the clouds seem to be lifting a bit and you're more aware of your surroundings. Voices fill the air, speaking a strange, foreign language.
You feel a hand on your arm. It is warm. Soft. Human.
The owner of the hand is a middle-aged woman. She smiles warmly and speaks in the same foreign tongue. After a few moments, she shakes her head and says something to a young man standing nearby, who leaves the room in a hurry. She turns back to you, smiling again and pats you on the arm. Her words - though they are unintelligible - are comforting.
Seeing the new arrival of the gnome, Menander's jaw drops. "Is there some sort of gatherin' happenin' in town that I don't know about?" he says, a wide, joking smile on his face. "What can I get you, my friend?"
After finishing Baz's order, he responds to Bryce's question. "Ah, see, there's the rub. We don't actually know it's the Qadirans responsible for the mess."[b]
[b]"By the Divines we don't! Who else would it be?" the haggard-looking man interrupts.
"Well, apparently Jarvis knows for certain," Menander says with a playful smile. "Unfortunately, our little problem hasn't grown worrisome enough yet to trouble the powers-that-be in Zimar," he says with a shrug.
Bryce listens as the bar keep says, "Well, apparently Jarvis knows for certain," Menander says with a playful smile. "Unfortunately, our little problem hasn't grown worrisome enough yet to trouble the powers-that-be in Zimar," he says with a shrug.
"What about the people in charge here? I serve the Church of Pharasma in Zamir and could send word back to my superiors, who should I speak with regarding these strange occurrences in the official capacity?"
"It does seem a little odd to me that a desert kingdom with their sun goddess would be behind a cold snap, yes?" Morrigan inserts into a lull in the conversation. "But then I know little of Qadir and I suppose stranger things have happened. Did you say there were two strangers? I have heard of the mercenary, but not the second. Perhaps if they are well enough I shall go speak to them in the morning and hear their story."
"You make a good point miss, are you the local constable? If you are going to be interrogating the strangers might I offer my services. I am Bryce Eivanson, Circuitor of Pharasma's Church of Zamir at your service."
Nosh is uncharacteristically silent as Morrigan joins them.
warm cider.....what are they saying...boring....desert kingdom......boring......look at that compass she has, maybe I can borrow the needle.......hear their story?!
At the mention of a story Nosh's ears perk up. "Do you really think they would tell us a story, that sounds fun. Maybe after that we can go visit the woods. There are strange creatures living there now. Maybe they brought the cold weather." after a brief pause he adds "I'm Nosh, I like to travel and collect things. What do you do?"
Morrigan smiles faintly at Nosh, amused by the gnome's mannerisms and speech. "I am called Morrigan. Nice to meet you Nosh, and you Bryce. Have the two of you come far? To answer your questions, I am a bit of a traveler and now... a temporary resident of Heldren, I suppose you could say. But no, I am not the constable. With all the rumors floating about, I thought it might be wise to speak with someone who has actually seen these things, and perhaps to offer what assistance I may to aid the wise one in her efforts to tend the unfortunate. My 'interrogation' would not be in any sort of official capacity, but you are welcome to come with me if you so wish."
Seeing the second gnome come up and take the stool beside Nosh, she asks curiously "One does not often see two gnomes in a town this size. Did you two travel together?"
Bazikian looks up from his food in response to Morrigan's words. "Well met, lovely lady and fellow gnome," he smiles. "I have only just arrived in this town, having travelled many miles and long to get here. Bazikian is my name. It seems there may be some troubles in these parts, no?"
"Well there is indeed something strange going on in these parts, whether the Qadirian's or something else is behind it. If there is some Evil at work here it must be rooted out and dealt with. Heldern is a small town, the folks here might get a bit suspicious of a group of strangers arriving in town poking into things they trust their leaders to take care of, particularly when some of the strangeness is strangers showing up in town. In the morning I shall go speak those in charge and offer my services as Circuitor, if you are interested in volunteering I suggest you come with me Miss Morrigan, Mr. Nosh. and Mr. Bazikian. This is indeed a curious coincidence or a intervention of divine fate, I shall have to pray and reflect this evening on the possible meaning of six strangers showing up in the same place while all this is going on. Pharasma may have some insight. Barkeep, I did not catch your name, can you suggest a place I can board this night and who I should seek out in the morning?"
The big man doesn't understand, but he smiles.
"Well there is indeed something strange going on in these parts, whether the Qadirian's or something else is behind it. If there is some Evil at work here it must be rooted out and dealt with. Heldern is a small town, the folks here might get a bit suspicious of a group of strangers arriving in town poking into things they trust their leaders to take care of, particularly when some of the strangeness is strangers showing up in town. In the morning I shall go speak those in charge and offer my services as Circuitor, if you are interested in volunteering I suggest you come with me Miss Morrigan, Mr. Nosh. and Mr. Bazikian. This is indeed a curious coincidence or a intervention of divine fate, I shall have to pray and reflect this evening on the possible meaning of six strangers showing up in the same place while all this is going on. Pharasma may have some insight. Barkeep, I did not catch your name, can you suggest a place I can board this night and who I should seek out in the morning?"
Strange happenings afoot! Could it be..? Perhaps sweet Desna has guided my skipping feet to this village for this very reason, and this is indeed The Quest that Mother Keshka saw in her cards. If I see the blue swallowtail butterflies, I will know for sure.
Bazikian wolfs down the last of his stew. Wiping his mouth with a kerchief, he nods. My goddess of the stars bids me help wherever I can, and I feel my destiny tugging at me. Plus," he adds, looking at Nosh, "I've not seen another of my kind in a good long while." He bends his head towards Nosh's ear, whispering, "It'll be nice to have someone else around that doesn't over complicate things!" With that, Bazikian waits to hear the barkeep's suggestions regarding board and the authorities.
Menander shakes his head, "We don't get too many visitors to Heldren, so we don't have a proper inn. You're welcome to carve out a slice of floor over by my hearth for the night, though. You wouldn't be the first do have done so." he says, smiling warmly. "As for who you should talk to, that'd be Councilor Teppend. She'll know what's going on and what you can do to help. I'm sure she'd appreciate the assistance - not sure our little militia is equipped to deal with such threats."
Almost precisely as he finishes speaking, the door to the inn opens and young man bursts in. "Morrigan? Is Ms. Morrigan here?" He spots her at the bar. "Ionnia - I mean, Councilor Teppend - has asked me to fetch you for your help. That big feller we found outside the city gates a few days ago is waking, but he don't seem to understand a word. She thought you might be able to help."
"Well, why wait till the mornin'?" Menander asks. "I'll be sure to save you a patch of floor, don't worry."
Bryce gives the woman at the bar a knowing look, "It seems you are better connected then you let on Miss Morrrigan. With your permission I would like to come and assist, I can be a persuasive interrogator if need be."
"I did say that I was a temporary resident. With a town this size, stay more than a day and you will be known by all." She gives another of her small smiles. "But you are certainly welcome to come with me."
Turning to the young man, "I will come. Please, lead the way." With that, she settles her bill with Menander, gathers her few things and then heads for the door.
Bazikian drains his beer mug and jumps off his stool to accompany the others. He tosses a smile to the barkeep over his shoulder, calling out, "I'll take you up on a floorboard or two, kind sir!"
"Well met cousin, always good to see more of our kind about" Nosh nods in agreement at Bazikian's words, whispering back "They do have some strange notions about how things should work, too many rules."
"Save me a board near the fire!" exclaims Nosh to the Keeper. "I have to go with my new friends."
As Nosh prepares to step back outside, he wonders outloud "I thought everyone spoke common. Except for stinky kobolds, they aren't very bright and smell real bad. Maybe he speaks sylvan or gnome!"
"You are very kind Miss Morrigan, it seems you have a sizable entourage." Turning to the tavern owner, "Thank you for the excellent meal, and I indeed will take you up on the offer for a place by the hearth. Would you like me to settle of the cost of dinner now, or wait until after I break my fast in the morning."
"Bah, we'll settle up in the morning. Least I can do if you all are able to look into these issues for us. See you in a bit."
The young man leads your group out of the tavern and two doors down to the Willowbark Apothecary.
The Apothecary shop is lined with shelves bearing various herbs, substances and a few potions. You are greeted by a female elf who introduces herself as Tessaraea Willowbark. She then leads you to the back of the shop into her home. There, lying on one bed is a blonde-haired Ulfen man wrapped in bandages. His face and body is scraped and bruised, and his nose, fingers and toes are all a deep black.
As astonishing as that site is, your attention is quickly drawn to the bed next to him - in it is likely the largest person you have seen.
Tessaraea introduces you to a woman seated next to the giant - this is Councilor Ionnia Teppen. She looks surprised to see so many of you, but she greets you with a smile.
"Hello, Morrigan, and thank you for coming so quickly. I didn't realize you were bringing a crew with you," she says playfully. "This gentleman here has been with us for a couple of days now, and he seems to be recovering quite well from whatever ailed him. Unfortunately, we've been unable to communicate with him - whether due to injury or some strange possibility he's never learned the Common Tongue. We've found you to be quite resourceful and intelligent, friend Morrigan, and you were the first person I thought to ask to see if you could figure out how we could speak with him. And, perhaps if you can't - one of your friends can?"
The big man seems a bit nervous at the room suddenly filling with people. He looks at the woman who had been taking care of him to gauge her reaction to the newcomers. Seeing that she is not on edge or frightened he relaxes and simply watches them with big brown eyes.
"Good evening, Councilor Teppen," Morrigan greets the other woman, her manner friendly but businesslike. "you are too kind. These with me are Bryce Eivanson, Nosh, and Bazikian. He does not speak common you say?" Her gaze swivels to the large man, considering.
"He looks as if he may have a bit of giant in him. Unfortunately I have never studied their tongues. Still, many of their kind hail from the North. Have you tried Hallit?"
Without waiting for an answer, she draws a stool near the bed, sits, and leans forward toward the man, peering at him as she begins to speak in one of the northern tongues.
Hei, Olen nimeltään Morrigan. Miltä tuntuu?
If he does not respond, she will try again, this time in Skald.
Hei, jeg heter Morrigan. Hvordan føler du deg?
Bazikian tries to introduce himself in all of his known languages: Gnomish, Varisian and Sylvan.
His eyes narrowed a bit at her second attempt, apparently hearing some things that he almost recognized, but he shook his head.
"Жал ми е, јас не ги разбирам."
Whatever he's speaking, it shares some structural similarities with Skald, but is different enough to be practically unrecognizable.
"By Brigh, he's big! Is he a giant? I've never seen a giant, I wish I spoke giant"
Turning to Tessaraea, Nosh addresses her in Elven "Γεια σας, είμαι Nosh, θέλω σας κατάστημα, όλα τα είδη των μονών μυρωδιές. Συνάντησα ένα elf κάποτε, ήταν ωραία, μου δίδαξε γλώσσα σας. Δατ τρελός όταν ζήτησα από σκοτεινά ξωτικά, δεν έχω μιλήσει μαζί του στα έτη"
As they enter Bryce is sure to thank the elf, "Well met this night Miss Willowbark, thank you for welcoming us into your shop and home." Once gathered around invalids, Bryce skirts around the group as they surround the giant of a man and approaches the Council woman. "Greetings to you Miss Teppen, and apologies for intruding on your efforts her. I am Bryce Eivenson, Circuitor of Pharasma's Church in Zimar and have just arrived here in Heldern this very evening. The rumors of the weather and strangers are, of course, the main chatter of the folks in the tavern. I was planning on seeking you out in the morning, to offer you my services, when your man came to summon Miss Morrigan here tonight. Seeing that fate and destiny may be playing a role in the events that are transpiring here I felt delaying until the morrow might have been unwise. If these men are agents of Qadir, I am sure I can discover the truth." Bryce's ears tingle when he hears the northern tongue of his father, odd indeed this far away from there.
Morrigan looks at the man curiously. That is not a tongue I recognize at all. What could it be?
Dia duit is ainm dom Morrigan. Cén chaoi a bhfuil tú ag mothú? Cad is ainm duit?
Then... Γεια σας το όνομά μου είναι Morrigan. Πώς αισθάνεσαι; Ποιο είναι το όνομά σου
When Ragnar speaks, the Councilor looks to Morrigan, hoping for some sign of recognition or understanding.
Tessaraea smiles at Nosh. "Καλά πληρούνται, Nosh. Εκτιμώ τον ενθουσιασμό σας. Κάτοικος gnome μας είναι πολύ λιγότερο διαχυτικός. Είχατε την ευκαιρία να ανταποκριθεί Tengezil ακόμα;"
"Well met, Nosh. I appreciate your enthusiasm. Our resident gnome is far less effusive. Have you had a chance to meet Tengezil yet?"
In response to Bryce, Councilor Teppen says, "Qadirans, eh? You have been at the tavern. There are some who suspect their agents are at work, but we on the council have our doubts about such claims. Our Ulfen friend over there, Yuln Oerstag, is certainly not an agent of Qadira and has he requested our help. Let's have a chat with him in a bit, shall we?"
"Yes councilor, whether these occurrences are the acts of Qadir agents or some other Evil my heart tells me the personal journey that has lead me here, has done so at the most opportune time. I am at your service."
Bazikian turns also to the elven apothecary. "A fine place you have here, Miss Willowbark. Out of interest, do you have any alchemical supplies? 'Tis a hobby of mine, and I may be looking for some raw alchemical materials in the future."
The big Man's eyes go wide as the others begin speaking Elvish. He hesitates for a moment, then replies in a whisper.
"Η γλώσσα των World-φύλακες απαγορεύεται χωρίς εντολή τους. Είμαι Ragnar, γιος του Kul. Έχετε τις ευχαριστίες μου, στόχος μας είναι shoulds δεν συνομιλεί με αυτόν τον τρόπο."
"Ionnia... It appears he knows a dialect of elven, though he seems afraid to use it."
Turning back to Ragnar, she speaks in a low voice, "Καλά πληρούνται, Ragnar, γιος του Kul. Μιλάμε τη γλώσσα των ξωτικών. Ποιοι είναι οι φύλακες-κόσμο, και γιατί φοβάσαι τη γλώσσα τους; Ποια ομιλία θα προτιμούσατε;
Ragnar seems confused.
"Ξωτικά είναι αυτό που ο κόσμος-φύλακες αποκαλούν τους εαυτούς τους. Γλώσσα τους είναι λιγότερο γνωστό σε όλους τους λαούς, στοχεύουν στην αξιοποίηση ωθεί τους ... θυμός. Εμείς shoulds μιλούν τη γλώσσα των ανθρώπων, που δεν στοχεύουν φαίνεται να το γνωρίζουν. Ο μόνος άλλος λόγος που ξέρω είναι η γλώσσα Jörmungandr συγγενείς."
Nosh whispers to Brazikian in gnomish "Mae'n credu y bydd y corachod yn dangos eu llid os yw'n siarad yr un iaith, syniadau mwy cymhleth gan y werin fawr"
Quicky dismissing Ragnar's fears, Nosh continues in Elven
"Τα ξωτικά, οργιστώ; Εγώ δεν έχω δει ποτέ ένα εξαγριωμένο elf πριν. Όλα τα oens συνάντησα ήταν ευχάριστη και όμορφη εκτέλεση χορών και τραγουδιού είχε σαν φωνές. Νομίζω ότι τα σκοτεινά ξωτικά είναι θυμωμένο όμως, ίσως επειδή ζουν υπογείως. "
Ragnar just blinks at the tiny pale person, understanding the words but clearly confused by the way they were strung together.
Morrigan returns Ragnar's look of confusion. Clearly he is from the North, with his mention of the world serpent. And yet what is this 'speech of men', if not that which I've already used?
Πιστεύω ότι τα πράγματα είναι διαφορετικά εδώ από ό, τι έχετε συνηθίσει. Εν πάση περιπτώσει, δεν ξέρω τη γλώσσα της Jörmungandr, και έτσι ξωτικών είναι η γλώσσα που πρέπει να χρησιμοποιήσετε. Δεν νομίζω ότι θα Tessaraea μυαλό παραπολύ, εσείς Tessaraea;
This last part she pitches in a voice meant to catch the apothecary's attention.
Tessaraea responds to Baz. [b}"I have an assortment of herbs and substances - is there something specific you need? I do have an assortment of alchemists' fire prepared if you'd be interested in that."[/b]
In response to Morrigan, she says, "Σίγουρα όχι." Turning to Ragnar, she says quietly, "Τα ξωτικά δεν έχουν ζητήσει οι ίδιοι Κόσμος-φύλακες για πολύ καιρό τώρα. Από πού είσαι, Ragnar; Είναι ένα μέρος όπου Golarion του κανόνα ξωτικά εκεί;"
Certainly not.
The elves haven't called themselves World-Keepers for ages. Where are you from, Ragnar? Are you telling us there is a portion of Golarion where elves still rule?
"Alas, my funds are low, fair elfmaiden, but hopefully soon I will have a chance to purchase some of your wares." Bazikian bows low to the apothecary.
Ragnar was clearly confused. He shook his head. "Elves κανόνα παντού." Then he seemed to realize something/
"Ηλικίες; Ω, пекол..." the big man said, his face going white.
"Πώς ... πόσο καιρό;"
Bryce listens, not understanding the elvish conversation but notices the large man's face as he seems to come to some kind of revelation, he is either going to pass out or attack from sheer fear. "All right easy now friend, we do not need you swing those arms about." Bryce figures the giant of a man won't be able to understand the words but hopes his soothing tone will keep the giant from doing something dangerous towards the gathering.