DM Harpwizard’s Heroes of Elsir Vale (Inactive)

Game Master GM Harpwizard

Lord Jarmaath extends a hand to each of the elves and welcomes them personally.

"Welcome to Brindol, my elven friends. I thank you for coming in our time of need. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance! How was your flight over?"

"Fine."

Killiar replies succinctly.

"I am glad you have come. You look like very able warriors, but are there any more of you, by chance?"

Diplomacy 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12

"No, there are no more of us! We are the best hunters in all the Tiri Kitor and one of us is equivalent to five of your human hunters."

Edvard keeps a steady distance from Jarmaath and Killiar, content for now to allow the discussion to play out organically.

Tirion, figuring that this chest bumping is not going to benefit anyone chimes in:
I have never seen Lord Jarmaath fight, but his Lions are great tacticians and swordsmen. At the same time, the elves of the Tiri Kitor are masters with their longbows. If the Lions managed to close, my money would be on them. If kept afar, say because the elves were on a flying steed, then it would be the elves. Both of you are masterful warriors in your specific element and I know few who would not consider it an honor to fight beside either of you. I for one am glad that in this battle against the evil horde you both will be fighting together for undoubtedly with you and the dwarves, the sum of the whole will greatly exceed the individual parts.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (17) + 12 = 29

"Tirion, I have no doubt that these Elven warriors are the finest in all the land and I will not argue how great they are, but the fact remains that while these nine elves are here to assist, we have an army in the thousands as well as dragons and giant kind all coming here to Brindol to wipe out the last resistance of the people of the Elsir Vale! Killiar Arrowswift, I welcome you and your men. I am sorry that there are no more of you, but I will gladly accept any help that you can offer us. Please join me at your convenience and we can discuss battle strategy and I can figure out how to best use all of you. In the meanwhile, I can try to house all of you near the barracks, but I confess, I am not sure where to house your owls."

"Very well, Jarmaath! However, you need not worry about our housing for we will live in the trees of the forest just north of your walls. If you need to speak with us, you may come and find me."

Arrowswift and the other elves mount their owls and quickly depart.

Wait, before you go, Killiar . . . might it not be noble and wise both to meet with the Captain of the Guard, and to at least discuss overall strategy in a cursory way? If you are going to be kind enough to aid these folk in their time of need, would prudence and manners both not dictate you at least introduce yourself to the leader of the warriors here, and to coordinate your efforts? I'm certain that at least Trinia would agree, don't you?

Bofus is hoping that dropping Trinia's name will remind Killar of exactly what the elves owe to the group, and soften him up a smidge.

You must be referring to Trellara not Trinia.

"I will comply, Bofus." The elf responds. "Bring me to him. Let me see the leader of these warriors!"

"Come with me, Killiar, and I will introduce you to Captain Lars Ulverth. I will be relying on both of you to help me with decision on our defense in the days to come. Bofus, Tirion, Mantooth, Thordak, and Edvard, come along and I will show you your room for tonight. Most of the shops are closed at this time, but tomorrow morning you can get an early start to your trading and visit with the Harpwizard."

Kerden Jarmaath leads you to a large guest room set up with several single beds laid with feathered mattresses, cotton sheets and warm woolen blankets. A great fire place against the outside wall is lit and radiates a warm glow. Several pictures of the surrounding landscape hang from the walls giving the room a very comfortable feel.

It was around eight o'clock in the evening when you arrived at the gates of Brindol. It is easily past nine o'clock now. Do you wish to go to bed now or is there something else that needs done tonight?

I think that Edvard, Mantooth, Thordak and I are likely to call it a night. Bofus will probably head out and pick the pockets of some destitute villageless villagers and then bring some of the fine ladies of this good town into disrepute..

Before Killiar departs with Jarmaath, Edvard calls to him in Elvish "Killiar... De tout s'avise a qui pain faut." and holds gaze for a few moments before following Jarmaath into the provided guest room.

Once within, Edvard frowns at the comfort and seeks at least a place where he might open the windows and feel a breeze. He draws no comfort from the fire or the feathered matresses. If needed he will drag a blanket into a garden and spend the night there.

Roll on the daytime, and Edvard would be making a beeline (with all others interested) for the Prof)

"Killiar... De tout s'avise a qui pain faut."

Killiar gives Edvard a knowing look and a grin as he replies, "Hah! Vous n'avez pas besoin de vous soucier de moi, Dark Ermite! Je sais ce que je suis ici pour faire. Rappelez-vous, je suis le sommeil un à l'extérieur avec mon peuple, et non celle reposant dans le luxe!"

• Toilday, Lamashan 9, 4710 • 8 o'clock in the morning •

The following morning brings more rain to the city and most of you are grateful to be inside under the roof of Brindol Keep. Although you do not see Lord Jarmaath this morning, you do spend a little time visiting with Captain Lars Ulverth at one of the tables room in the Great Hall before hitting the town.

"Good morning, folks. I trust you slept well last night. There are many folks just outside of this keep that would have killed for such a place to sleep in Brindol. Well, I guess being in the service of the Lord has its privileges. So what do you have planned for today? I sure hope going anywhere near the Fortress is not in those plans. I know Jared Kaal would like to find any excuse to throw you in jail, and I'm not sure that I have the time to go bailing you out today."

Tirion grins: You sure you do not want me to go and cast a bunch of webs around the jail just to annoy him? Or, if you would prefer, I could turn invisible and then go into his office and every time he goes to sit down, I could slide his chair back. That would be amusing, even better would be doing the same thing to the hag he calls a mother.

As he finishes this, Tirion is almost laughing thinking of the look on the pair of Kaal's faces as they fall on their a$$es.

I love low wisdom.

"Tirion, I would not put it past you, but that is just the thing the Magistrate is looking to catch you on. And although my assessment of her mother is the same as yours, you would be wise to keep that to yourself. The Lion Guard is Jarmaath's army, and they keep order in the town as such, but they do not have the skill and experience of those who have been rewarded the title of Lion of Brindol, which you can recognize from the yellow stripe and emblem emblazoned on their blue tunics. You see, the Lions of Brindol lead the Lion Guard and are completely loyal to Jarmaath and myself. However, there are some members of the Lion Guard who have sympathies for the Kaal family and you would do well not to arouse their attention. They are a powerful family in this town and we do not have a choice at this time. We must work with them. That is Jarmaath's order to us!"

Tirion sighs: Well, that certainly takes the fun out of things. But as soon as this horde is finished, I am going to have a lot of fun embarrassing that pair of buffoons.

You must be referring to Trellara not Trinia.

Sorry, we just helped a "Trinia" in another campaign, got the mames nixed!!

Bofus will probably head out and pick the pockets of some destitute villageless villagers

Now, what self-respecting thief would steal from a destitue homeless person?? They gotz NUFFIN for da lewtz

Good morning, Captain! I don't think you or the good Lord will have to worry about us. I don't think we'll be here all that long, not long enough to cause irreperable harm anyway! In any case, I'll keep out of the Kaal's hair, or my name isn't Bofus Beechnut.

Now, perhaps we should stick around for a few minutes when you meet Killiar. I'd like to make sure you two are at least able to speak together and you don't need a babysitter, eh?? I give Ulverth a friendly elbow to the thigh.

But after that we'll take care of some of our personal business, then discuss our next steps. sound good gents?

"Aye, I've met the elf and you don't need to worry about us. We are getting along just fine. He certainly appears to be a competent and able warrior and those owls could prove quite useful. I also know that I need to keep my mouth shut and try to use a little more of Jarmaath's diplomacy if we are going to win this battle. But that's my own issue. You folks just go ahead and enjoy the city and I'll get on with my own business. So will I see you later today, or are you planning on making a hasty departure before the days end?"

Oh, I'm thinking we're probalby going to want to confer with you and Jarmaath at least once before we head out. I'm thinking we take teh day to resupply, rest up a bit, and head out at first light? Captain, here's to a booring day for you and your men!

Later, discreetly enough to not be overheard . . .

By the way, Edvard, I'm going a little incognito here in Brindol. The Kaal family is *quite* influential here, and there's some bad blood between the Kaals and the Beerswizzlers. I took on my older family name of Beechnut so I can operate in this city without having to dodge Kaal dogs every minute. The others all konw about this, and I forgot to mention it before we entered the gates. Sorry.

Let's not role-play the trading. You may sell items at half the price and purchase items at the standard prices. While you are determining that out of character, let's move forward to Brindol Academy.

It is impossible to miss the fact that Brindol is a city at war, even though as yet there are no smoldering fires or war-torn battlefields. Soldiers toil in what only a few weeks ago were idyllic orchards and productive farms, digging trenches, raising watchtowers, and securing wooden palisades.

The city is almost completely surrounded by a twenty-foot-high wall of stone. The only stretch not protected in this way is the section along the river that marks the city's northern boundary. Two bridges cross the Elsir and connect the city with the river's far bank. This is the entrance you came in last night. The highest point in town is a hill nestled in the southeastern quadrant. Brindol Keep surmounts this hill, its majestic towers rivaled by the presence of the grand cathedral, better known as the Cathedral of Peace Through Vigilance.

You travel through the streets of Brindol and it is clearly packed with refugees and travelers. Pushing through the crowds, you reaches the wooden doors of Brindol Academy and you are greeted by the headmaster, the former chief judge of the Elsir Vale Tournament of Champions, Harmon Stipplelock.

"Good day!" He greets you. "Well, well, well. If it isn't our tournament champions. What a pleasant surprise. How can I help you?"

Edvard keeps his words to himself at breakfast, having already been up for a couple of hours with the dawn to focus upon the powers locked within his iron ring.

To Bofus he shrugs "If you wish little one, it matters not to me"

At the Academy he states with simple bluntness "We need speak with the Harpwizard on a matter of some urgency"

"We need speak with the Harpwizard on a matter of some urgency"

Harmon Stipplelock looks to Edvard and replies. "Well, Professor Manturiel is a very busy man and he does not have time to entertain questions form just anybody. Perhaps I could help direct your line of inquiry to somebody less, well, busy."

Diplomacy Check please.

Bofus steps up, giving Edvard a gentle but firm nudge away. Sir, believe me we understand D. M. Harpwizard is a very busy man. Let's say . . . we have some history. Could you kindly send him the message that his friends Bofus and Sir Longbrow would like to see him, posthaste? I'll tell you what--if you could kindly realy that message and that we'l be back in, oh, two hours, I *promise* he'll want ot see us then! Deal?

Bofus gives his most charming smile and extends his hand for a shake.

diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (12) + 10 = 22

"Hmm?" Stipplelock considers your request carefully as he strokes his beard, and then he pushes his glasses further up onto his nose and replies with a handshake. "Very well, young man. I will let him know, but don't be late for your appointment and do not overstay your welcome. He will see you promptly at half past ten o'clock today."

""Very well, young man. I will let him know, but don't be late for your appointment and do not overstay your welcome. He will see you promptly at half past ten o'clock today."

"Thank you, Sir. We will be there on time as promised."

Mantooth departs with Edvard and Bofus.

"Nice work, Bofus. I was not sure that the good headmaster really wanted us to visit today. You would think that he would know that we work for Lord Jarmaath and that we would not impose upon the Harpwizard unnecessarily. Well, no matter. At least we will see him soon. So, Bofus, what do you have planned for us now?"

Edvard does not hide his displeasure at the dismissive tone of the academic. He takes hold of his focus and is just beginning to shape it when Bofus intercedes. He does not attenuate his open displeasure and keeps his eyes affixed to the man. I wonder how he would fare if the horde did come... flayed and flensed...

He is broken from his reverie at Mantooth's question and shakes his head. As an open question he asks the both of them "Why do you give the most respect to those that least deserve it?"

Bofus sees the seething only beginning to subside in Edvard's eyes. Ah, yes, politics!! Yeah, I can see where it seems kinda bass-ackwards. But in my experience, sometimes you have to, um, compromise a little. If we'd tried to strong-arm our way past that professer, we'd have engendered bad blood and caused a kerfuffle that we don't need. By giving him a little of what he wanted--respect--it greased his wheels, and at no cost to us. And *showing* respect is not the same as *giving* respect. In other words, yes I'm a liar! I embrace it, because it's one of my tools to get me what I need. ;-)

Now how do we fill two hours? HERE'S how.

Bofus leads them business-like through the familiar streets of Brindol like the minor celeb he is, greeting old acquaintances while unloading their dragon horde to the local merchants. They find their way to the Stone Wyvern.

MASTER YAB!! Hey, how's business?!?! Good to see you!! After exchanging a few mommetns of pleasantries . . . Say, do you have a private dining room I could share with my fiends here for maybe a half hour? With maybe some tea and pastries apprpriate for Second Breakfast? we've got some very pleasant business to attend, and that would us tmake it *dandy*!! Here's 5 gold, that shoudl cover it, no?

Once they get situated and the door is closed, Bofus is positively beaming. Heheheh, my favorite part of the advnture!! Well, no--STEALING it is my FAVORITE, but this is a close second!

He dumps out the sizeable mound of coins, and the division is quick and painless over Second Breakfast.

OK, 10% goes to The House. That's about 700 gold. (Sorry guys, I did the dividing late last night and simply added the Group Share in, so I don't recall exactly hwo much that was) And we each get 25 platinum, 1,080 gold, and 1,880 silver! Our group pot is up to 3,074 gold! Do we want anything? Tirion, you're keeping that lovely mace? Who has that peripat? Now, I'm going to buy a few odds and ends, and we'll meet back at the Universtity to talk with the Harpwizard! Sound good?

Who is carrying the 2 black eyes for Acid resist: 10? Edvard?

"MASTER YAB!! Hey, how's business?!?! Good to see you!! After exchanging a few mommetns of pleasantries . . .

"Bofus Beechnut! My favorite halfling! Well, I'll be snookered! And look who else? Manfred Lonbow isn't it? And who is this young man?" he asks as he peers up at Edvard. "I haven't seen you before. Welcome to the Stone Wyvern. You are most welcome here. I just ask that you please do not touch the statue of the Wyvern in the common room. Hehe!" He laughs nervously, "We certainly do not want to wake it up now do we?" Turning back to Bofus he comments, "I had no idea that you were still around! I was sure you would have gotten out of this town long ago! Have you heard the news? There is an army of hobgoblins coming to town. I am nervous to think how this is going to end, but in the meanwhile, business has not been better. We've got a full house every night these days! I am trying to bank most of it so I can take a vacation to Druma some day. The tough decision is to to decide how long to wait before I escape from here!"

"Say, do you have a private dining room I could share with my fiends here for maybe a half hour? With maybe some tea and pastries appropriate for Second Breakfast? we've got some very pleasant business to attend, and that would us make it *dandy*!! Here's 5 gold, that should cover it, no?""

"Why yes, that will do nicely! Please, come and take the conference room. I will serve you personally with whatever your heart desires! I can never thank you enough for all that you did for my cousin Stumblemoss Sniveluffikus! If you and your friends had not intervened, I was sure that we would still be lost in that crazy magical plane he was trapped in. So please, make yourself at home and let old Trabalard get you all settled."

The old gnome scurries off and soon comes back with a plate of apple pastries. As he catches a glance at your treasure pile his eyes bulge out and he remarks, "My word, Bofus! I see you have been doing very well! Dear gods, have you robbed a dragon's horde since I last saw you?"

My word, Bofus! I see you have been doing very well! Dear gods, have you robbed a dragon's horde since I last saw you?"

Bofus answers nonchalantly. Weeelll, I *would* have stolen it, but we ended up just killing the dragon instead. Amounts to the same, though, dunnit?

Pretty sure I kept the black eyes.

To Bofus' explanation of politics Edvard merely scoffs "Until you teach it otherwise a dog will continue to crap inside your house. Next time you should let me burn him... teach him some humility. Your massaging of his ego merely reinforced his false perception of his import..."

Edvard greets the inkeep with his first name only before raising an eyebrow and asking honestly "Is it truly a wyvern petrified?... if so it could be of use..."

"Weeelll, I *would* have stolen it, but we ended up just killing the dragon instead. Amounts to the same, though, dunnit?"

"My dear Bofus, I do hope you are jesting. Dragons are not real are they?!"

"About when you should leave . . . it's a new development that Brindol just got some new, very effective, scouts for allies!! These guys should give plenty of warning when the siege is imminent. But definitley listen to them, and if they say "run," you RUN, savvy??"

"I will run, my friend, by I am not very fast and I do not know where to go! What do you think I should do? I love Brindol and my lovely Inn and it was passed on to me by my father. I really do not like the idea of leaving it, but then again, I really don't like the idea of dying either! How much hope do you think we have in the Brindol Lions?"

"Is it truly a wyvern petrified?... if so it could be of use..."

"Well, the way I heard it, a wyvern was petrified more than a century ago by a group of adventurers who were defending some local farmers. My father, Yabaling Yab, who was a very enterprising gnome, bought the plot and built a building around the wyvern thinking that it would make an excellent conversation piece. Well, he was right! Today, I'm proud to say, the Stone Wyvern is Brindol's most successful inn. My only worry is that somebody will come along and unpetrify the creature. On the other hand, I worry that I would lose a lot of business if I got rid of it!"

Pretty sure I kept the black eyes.

I thought we all agreed that since Thordak decided to put the black gems in his loincloth, that he should keep them there. The green gems do the same thing, I figured they were given to Edvard.

With Edvard and Bofus outside of Brindol Academy . . . .

"Why do you give the most respect to those that least deserve it?"

"Harmon Stipplelock is the headmaster of Brindol Academy and was a very fair and honest judge when we all competed in the Elsir Vale Tournament of Heroes. He is a good ally to have, and although he does not know us well, he always treated us fairly and with great respect. In fact there were times when a rogue named Rotskill was cheating and we were grateful to have a judge like Stipplelock around. Although I know the old man was being very particular this morning, I know that he is probably under a lot of pressure and I am happy to comply with his wishes. But just wait until you meet the Harpwizard, he is a very interesting character and you will see that it was worth the wait!"

At the Stone Wyvern . . .

"And look who else? Manfred Lonbow isn't it? "

You are nearly right Trabalard. I am Mantooth Longbrow. I am now a knight of the Elsir Vale appointed by Lord Jarmaath himself. I am pleased to see that your inn is doing so well!"

Yeah, Tirion is right but I don't care much whether I take green or black. Up to you Ed.

Greetin's Master Yab! Thordak says, smiling. Oi'll just have an' ale if ye please.

Oooh, treasure! Thordak says, licking his lips and rubbing his hands together in excitement. Oi think Oi'll be makin' a trip to tha blacksmith's today, Oi wanna see wot Oi can do fer this crossbow o' moine.

"You are nearly right Trabalard. I am Mantooth Longbrow. I am now a knight of the Elsir Vale appointed by Lord Jarmaath himself. I am pleased to see that your inn is doing so well!"

"Ahh yes, Mantooth Longbrow. How could I forget! The champion of the sword! My goodness, you are a real knight now? It sure is scary the way the young folk grow up so fast nowadays. Mantooth, you look like you could use a good meal. Have you been eating enough these last few weeks?"

"Greetin's Master Yab! Thordak says, smiling. Oi'll just have an' ale if ye please."

"Bless me! It's another one of the Heroes! Yes, yes, I know you! You wond the Bolt and Arrow competition. If it isn't Thornbut son of Thogar! Oh wait, it really isn't that. What was your name again? Thordek? That's it. Thordek, It is so nice to see you, my friend! How have you been doing? You beard appears to be growing longer than ever! Yes, yes, an ale, I can help you with that. Coming right up, my good sir! Please make yourself right at home! Tell me, my dwarven friend, what ever happened to that nasty villain that use to come around here and threaten you and all the good folk of my inn?"

• Toilday, Lamashan 9, 4710 • Half past ten o'clock in the morning •

The heroes arrive at Brindol Academy promptly at the appointed time and Harmon Stipplelock greets you cordially at the door. "Well met again, gentlemen. Please follow me." He then leads you down the corridors of the academy to a door that has a metal plaque on the door with the name Deitrovicca Manturiel engraved upon it. Harmon knocks politely and opens the door.

In the room, the white bearded wizard appears to be sitting at his harp playing a fabulous piece of music. While the music plays, several glowing spheres appear to be floating around, moving in the rhythmic pattern of the music. As the dynamics of the music grows louder and softer, the luminescence of the spheres increases and decreases as if the spheres were part of the music itself. Finally, as the piece comes to a close, the glowing spheres fade out as the sound decays. Standing up from his harp, a smile grins under his bushy beard as he greets each of you personally with a handshake and a smile.

"Thank you for bringing my guests down to me, Harmon." Harpwizard dismisses the headmaster. "Well, well, well, met indeed. Bofus, Thordak, Mantooth, and Tirion, and it is a pleasure to finally meet you as well, Edvard. I am glad to see that you have safely arrived. Please come in, come in. May I offer you a hot cup of Elma Chai? I find it really rather delicious. However, I do have a rather sweet tooth."

The harpwizard summons several mugs from a shelf and a steaming tea pot appears and begins pouring a hot amber liquid into each of the mugs with a gesture from his hands.

"Please, please sit down and share with me all that you wish, and I will share with you all that I may."

Edvard does not respond to Stipplelock's greeting, but does allow himself to be led within.

To the Harpwizard he cannot restrain a sneer at one who clothes himself in such frippery and comfort, shaking his head at the offer of tea. He does give recognition of his name when called - but is direct when Deitrovicca opens himself to questions "We seek the lair of the Ghostlord."

"We seek the lair of the Ghostlord."

The harpwizard smiles at Edvard and summons a cup of his Elma Chai to his hand and takes a slow sip as he savors every drop. He then levitates the cup back to the table, leans back and replies.

"Ahh yes, the legendary Ghostlord. A tragic old story. Yes, yes. Many of the old books will tell the tale that the Ghostlord was a once proud druid who dwelt in the verdant plains south of Rhest and led several tribes of nomads. These nomads were said to have built a massive lion of stone in honor of this great druid, who taught them the ways of the lion and how to live at peace with those proud creatures. Yet when dark times fell on Rhest, their shadow also fell upon the lions' plains."

The story began when nobles visiting from Rhest arrived in the region. The nomads befriended the nobles but were betrayed by them when the visitors hunted down and killed a lion monarch for his pelt and claws. The nomads reacted with violence, slaying the visiting nobles to a man. Rhest answered in kind, and its army marched against the southern plains. The disorganized nomads stood little chance against Rhest's military might, and the tribes were slaughtered despite the fact that the lions rose to defend them. The warriors of Rhest confronted and slew the druid between the paws of his own massive stone shrine.

But the night after the warriors returned to their city, doom came to Rhest. Ghost lions prowled the streets, stalking and killing anyone they came across. When the dawn came, the entirety of Rhest's cavalry, including families, servants and squires, lay dead. Rhest never recovered from this night of terror, which marked the beginning of the decline of that once-proud nation. In the years since, the once-verdant hills to the south have grown horrid and tangled. The Thornwaste is all that remains.

Although this story is accurate in its general outline, I found that it gets several important facts wrong. Urikel Zarl, the great druid of the story, was in fact the leader of a cruel lion cult based in the southern regions of the kingdom. His people were not the noble nomads legend recalls, but feral cannibals who believed that in death their bodies would transform them into lions and thereafter live forever. Urikel Zarl was their undying lord and master, who had long before turned him back on the natural world for the tainted promises of eternal undeath. When the Rhestian lords sought to challenge his power and subjugate the region, their cavalry and the cultists destroyed each other; in the years to come, both Rhest and the Thornwaste fell to ruin as a result.

The reason behind Urikel Zarl's fall from grace cannot be found in libraries. I suspect that it remains hidden in the depths of his great stone lion in the Thorwaste. So tell me, Edvard, why do you seek this fallen druid?

Edvard listens attentively as the chai drinking academic elucidates him. At the query he slides around the question "We need to trade words with this Urikel... Do you recall if he carried a specific sigil?"

"We need to trade words with this Urikel... Do you recall if he carried a specific sigil?"

"I am not familiar with a specific sigil, but even so, I am not sure that this Urikel would like to hear your words. He is a dangerous evil being that has been undisturbed for many years. Why would you wish to wake him and stir up his wrath. The Elsir Vale has enjoyed a relative peace for many years. Do you really think it is wise to wake this Ghostlord?"

With a knowing smirk "Oh we have reason to think that he slumbers no longer... and we believe that we have words that might stave his wrath"

"Bless me! It's another one of the Heroes! Yes, yes, I know you! You wond the Bolt and Arrow competition. If it isn't Thornbut son of Thogar! Oh wait, it really isn't that. What was your name again? Thordek? That's it. Thordek, It is so nice to see you, my friend! How have you been doing? You beard appears to be growing longer than ever! Yes, yes, an ale, I can help you with that. Coming right up, my good sir! Please make yourself right at home! Tell me, my dwarven friend, what ever happened to that nasty villain that use to come around here and threaten you and all the good folk of my inn?"

Er...Actually it's Thordak, Son of Throtgar. Thordak says, a bit annoyed. Wot villain? Oh whoever he was Oi'm sure he's been dealt with.. Ah, thanks fer tha ale!

DMHW: I would like to buy (or make) a masterwork crossbow and have the Harpwizard enchant it (+1 or +2, depending on cost). Can I do this between or should it happen after our visit?

Greetin's Master Harpwizard! Thordak says, accepting a mug of tea and dropping in a splash of brandy. He offers the brandy to others who are interested as well and savors his tea.

Aye, like Ed said, hah, Ed said, well like Ed said, we're lookin fer tha Ghostlord. We're here fer advice. We've heard that he's workin' fer tha Red Hand an' we've gotta try te stop that. We also found wot we think might be his necklace. We were thinkin' we've got two options: destroy his necklace, cause it's really evil, or sell it back te him te fight tha Red Hand with us...or somethin' like that.

While Edvard may speak with wisdom and intelligence, Tirion usually just speaks with emotion and heart: Good Harpwizard, what our my companions are attempting to say is that we believe the horde took something very precious from the lich that once was Urikel. Lets just say they took his soul. As a result, we believe that he is being forced to create an army of undead to fight for the horde. I have no love for evil druids who become liches. However, since we have come into possession of that which the horde was using to compel compliance by the Ghostlord, we are hopeful that we can use the object to compel him to return to his eternal rest or turn the undead on the horde rather than against Brindol.

"Oh we have reason to think that he slumbers no longer... and we believe that we have words that might stave his wrath"

For a moment, you believe you see a flash of concern cross the Harpwizard's face as he sits forward. "What makes you think the Ghostlord has awoken?"

"We also found wot we think might be his necklace. We were thinkin' we've got two options: destroy his necklace, cause it's really evil, or sell it back te him te fight tha Red Hand with us...or somethin' like that."

"What necklace are you talking about? Did you find his Phylactery?"

"Good Harpwizard, what my companions are attempting to say is that we believe the horde took something very precious from the lich that once was Urikel. Lets just say they took his soul."

The Harpwizard actually stands up and continues asking probing questions.

"It took the Ghostlord's soul? This definitely sounds like the Phylactery of a Lich! Where is this necklace? Do any of you have this item right now? Did any of you actually touch it?"

Which of you actually carries this item?

Slight retcon back at the Stone Wyvern . . .

"Wot villain?"

"The one with the tatoo. You know, he came by being all fancy and lovey with that poor Elven lass who died."

"Oh whoever he was Oi'm sure he's been dealt with.. Ah, thanks fer tha ale!"

"You are most welcome, my fine dwarf. Sorry about the name mixup. I've been doing that more and more lately. I am most sorry. Can I get you another drink, my friend?"

At the Wyvern:
Oh, you mean that Rotskill clown! Hmm, I think he got left locked in a room somewhere in his father's keep. If he lacked the skill and ingenuity to get out, that's his own bloody fault.

At D.M. HW: uh, I dont' think anyone actually touched it. And, well . . . Bofus gives the HW a long look . . .yeah, you've earned my trust. I've got it, pretty well hidden too.

Slight retcon back at the Stone Wyvern . . .

Thordak wrote:

"Wot villain?"

"The one with the tatoo. You know, he came by being all fancy and lovey with that poor Elven lass who died."

Thordak wrote:

"Oh whoever he was Oi'm sure he's been dealt with.. Ah, thanks fer tha ale!"

"You are most welcome, my fine dwarf. Sorry about the name mixup. I've been doing that more and more lately. I am most sorry. Can I get you another drink, my friend?"

Well, Oi can't say no! Har, ye sure know how te make customers come back, Trabbi!