"Use the power of evil to do good, hey? Every time I hear that old tune, I ask myself, 'Wouldn't it make more sense to use the power of good to do good?' I mean, people like to say Fight fire with fire, but whenever something actually is on fire, sensible folk end up fighting it with water."
"Anyway, be careful about promises of power whispered from the dark. I know a story about someone who listened just once...and the whispers never stopped. Doesn't sound like a story with a happy ending, does it?"
"Let's be on our way to the courthouse, then. We've a friend who seems to need less sleep than us; she's probably there already."
The group heads to the courthouse with their new friend in tow. The courthouse is even more packed as everyone seemingly wants to be part of the momentous occasion.
The group enters into the courtroom as they find their usual seats near Gustav. The Beast is brought in and placed into his usual, over-sized chair and shackled into place. Boos and jeers accompany the arrival of Andrew, but the entrance of the judges quickly silences the onlookers.
The judges take their seats and Judge Khard takes the lead by speaking for the panel. "Now, we have come to a decision as to the accusations of the prosecution in regards to Andrew." Khard says solemnly.
"On the charges leveled, this court finds Andrew innocent, however the testimony of the adventurers has shed some light on the nature of the defendant and, in good conscience, we have decided that Andrew is to be exiled from Lepidstadt. Based on Eloise's testimony, this is for both his safety and the safety of the residents." states Khard as the crowd reacts with mixed emotion, some gasp and some look strangely at this turn of events.
"The defendant will be taken to the outskirts of town and released with express instructions to never return to Lepidstadt." finishes Khard as he bangs his gavel and the judges exeunt the courtroom.
Andrew is escorted to a holding cell in the courthouse as the bailiffs clear the courtroom of everyone except you four. Upon finishing clearing the room, a bailiff approaches you and tells you that you are requested in Judge Daramid's office.
---
You enter Judge Daramid's office and see a woman in heavy armor emblazoned with holy symbols of Pharasma. Judge Daramid greets you warmly, hugging Iesha, Sour Heck and Eloise in turn. She looks surprised to see Gruoch however.
"Peredur, you have had some misfortune?" she says to Gruoch with a wink. "I apologize. My name is Embreth Daramid. Your friends were instrumental in delivering a prized possession to me and I am thankful." she says with a smile to the other three.
"Sadly, I have a favor to ask of you." she says with a more somber tone. "Andrew told the guard last night that he is from Schloss Caromarc and that his 'father' is there. Upon his release, we believe that Andrew will return there and I need you to investigate the castle at Schloss Caromarc: the likely home of this 'father'."
"I contacted the Pharasmin temple about this castle, but they were unaware that any possible issues with manipulating life and death was occurring there. They did, however, know that it was rumored the Whispering Way had an interest in the locale. This 'father' might be the reason." she remarks. "They have sent this glorious woman to be the temple's representative on this mission. I will let her introduce herself."
Sour Heck theatrically suppresses terror as the prominent judge embraces him. "Oh! This is a thing that is happening. I'm going to stay out of Judge Khard's office until I'm sure he's not a hugger too."
Sour Heck considers Judge Daramid's proposal. "So you'd owe us a favor, Your Honor? Hmmm. Seems to me there'll be a lot of work for a good dirge bard just now, with all the bodies they pulled out of the alchemical works. Then again, it might be good to get out of the city until all the country folks who came into town for the execution of the Beast return home, or at least run out of torches."
"Andrew's 'father' would be the graverobber who sewed him together out of corpses, then commanded him to steal the Seasage Effigy? Too bad we didn't get a name; that will make a social call awkward. Should we just present ourselves at the moat as new bodies for his next project?"
"Well, if you say the Whispering Way is out there, naturally we'll want to stick our necks out. What were these rumors exactly, who in the church heard them, and who from? I'd hate for people to get the idea they can get me to clean their privies by telling me they heard the Whispering Way was at the bottom."
"Be warned, your honour," Eloise says in silken tones. "If we find the Whispering Way at that castle, it will be their necks stretched out if I have anything to say about it."
The Magus frowns. "Andrew does not know where we are going, does he? His master could pick the knowledge right out of his mind - and turn him on us. This is not a desirable event."
Eloise's frown deepens. "Did Andrew just volunteer these facts about the castle and his master? That seems odd. Suspicious."
"When we told him of his release, outside of town, the creature seemed happy and said 'Now I can go see Father at big stone house!'" relays the Judge at Iesha's prompting. "When pressed further about the big stone house, my people determined that he meant the castle at Schloss Caromarc."
"If you truly want to know that Heck, then you will need to take that up with the Pharasmin leadership, though I would bet that the information is accurate." she reassures the man.
"Also, I wouldn't necessarily offer yourselves for up, perhaps some sort of middle ground between that and being a group of murderers should suffice." she finishes with a wry grin.
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Gruoch, is still uneasy and unaware of what is really going on here. Clearly there is some history between these individuals, but she can't make out what all their agendas quite are.
"Chuck and I will not be 'offering ourselves up' for anyone, and down right murderers doesn't sit well with us either. Wait... what was that part about sewing together body parts? What hell is going on here?!
I'm all for tracking down the Whispering Way, but now there's a monster involved?"
"Gruoch, good lady, if we are going to travel together for any length of time, you must learn not call anyone a monster before you have all the facts, even if she has made an unfortunate choice of judicial wigs."
"You may be the only person on the streets of Lepidstadt who hasn't heard some version of the Trial. Come drinking with us tonight and you'll hear the real story. What you need to know right now is that someone out there has figured out how to animate dead bodies as something other than undead--as golems. Sounds like just the kind of person who'd be recruited by the necromancers of the Whispering Way." The bard shrugs. "It's a good lead. We might even get some justice for the bodies he's defiled before dying horribly ourselves. "
"Amaia," says the tall paladin with a nod. Her face remains unchanged as she watches the proceedings, trying to get a feel for who these people she will be travelling with are. Besides her height, her most noteable feature is an almost iridescent tattoo of Pharasma's holy symbol. The spiral starts at her right eye and swirls out across her cheek.
"The church's faithful are always listening for whispers about The Way," she responds. "It came to our attention that you were seeking knowledge about it. Once it was determined that you were not following to become immortal undead yourselves, I left for Lepidstat."
"I have no intention of offering myself up to anyone," she finishes.
"I like you already," Eloise says, grinning at the Paladin. "If you haven't taken holy oaths against strong drink, I'll spot you a beer."
"The church seems pretty good at finding people it thinks want to be necromancers. Of course, the Whispering Way's been around for centuries, so maybe it's not so great at finding actual necromancers. Might be that's a good thing--means we'll run into less church folk that were killed and made into immortal undead."
Sour heck stares searchingly into Amaia's face. "Now that's a tattoo! One of my sisters has the Grey Lady's spiral tattooed on her cheek. Seeing how well yours turned out, I wonder if she oughtn't had it done on her face instead."
"We'll need a day to get ready for the trip. Maybe more, if Schloss Caromarc is more than a day's ride."
"I know that Peredur has offered to stay behind to guard the town, but what of your other friend, Iesha? Will she be venturing with you?" asks the judge, ignoring the crass man's veiled barb.
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Gruoch briefly looks toward Sour, "Monsters are monsters, Sour. Spare me your cultural sensitivity to abominations and the like. I won't be shocked or moved if it gets you killed."
Moving her attention to the paladin, "Immortal undead... What have I got myself into? I agree, let's gather what provisions we need and be on our way."
"Where is this Iesha character you all keep talking about? If she is to join us, the stronger we shall be."
"I expect Iesha will come to the castle. She's not going to pass up a chance to see me get killed." The bard turns to Gruoch. "Iesha's one of the Heroes of Harrowstone. I'll tell you their story at the tavern tonight as well."
When things with the judge seem settledand folks are ready to move on, Sour Heck asks the newcomers to wait outside a moment, then hands Daramid a slip of paper.
"Here's the address Peredur will be staying at. And here..." he says as he hands her another slip, "...is Talia's. You can send them the money the Professor left them--doubled, for investigating the Beast, as you promised. Two hundred platinum coins each. You can save your servants a walk by giving me and Iesha and Eloise our money now. We've kept your secret, as promised, and a good thing too. The crowd at the trial was muttering darkly about conspiracies by the end. If they knew you hired us, there'd be another mob at the courthouse door."
"Speaking of mobs at the courthouse...Justice Khard made mention of a reward if we helped the guard the other night, but that seems to have slipped his mind. Since we're doing you a favor, perhaps you could remind His Honor and see that the money gets to us? We'll need it to outfit ourselves properly."
"I will collect my things, where and when shall I meet you?"
"All of a sudden we're rolling in money," Eloise murmurs. "Better we hide our new riches from the people who were at the court, or we'll be giving them even more cause to believe in a conspiracy."
"Amaia, we're staying at Gorlak's tavern and inn. Meet us there tonight, so I can tell you the tale of our search so far at the same time as I tell Gruoch, and so we can plan our journey to the castle."
Daramid takes the note and nods at Sour Heck. "Thank you for your discretion. I will handle Peredur and Talia's payment." she says as she hefts a jingling bag and passes it to the man. "This should cover your payments as well."
---
Night sets and the newly formed group meets up at Gorlak's, though Iesha still appears to be missing.
The meal for the evening is goat stew with terrible grog as the only drink option.
Sour Heck weighs the bag in his hand. "Eloise, you're right--we need to get rid of this evidence as quickly as possible. I might have an idea or two about that. Here." He passes the coins to the magus. "Put your stone of alarm on that and tuck it away somewhere. We'll be visiting some shady places this afternoon."
The bard gives Daramid a deferential bow as they leave, heading from the courthouse to the pawn shops near the university. "I've heard that desperate scholars part with all kinds of interesting things to come up with the coin for classes and books. Anything you're interested in picking up, Eloise? A new cloak, perhaps?"
As the two shop for gear, Sour Heck finds opportunities to converse at length with merchants and students, burying among half a dozen other topics some seemingly casual questions about local sights such as castles.
Along the way, he stops at Gravecharge cathedral, where he offers to trade the Wand of Gentle Repose for a stack of coin and a new Wand of Cure Light Wounds.
The bard hunts through pawn shops until he finds an enchanted leather pack, a Handy Haversack.
Along the way, he discovers a runestone worn smooth, a Fortifying Stone, and buys it for himself.
"I'm thinking of some adamantine weaponry, just in case," Eloise says. "I don't like the notion, but Andrew could be turned on us. Apart from that, I'd like to do some shopping for anti-undead gear... and some potions against disease and poison."
Iesha greets the group in the morning, just finishing up some breakfast when they come down. She's sitting with a stranger, a Varisian looking man bearing a symbol of Erastil.
"Hi, everyone. I've been hearing how it went. How's Andrew? Where are you all hiding him? The Crooked Kin are willing to let him travel with them...Kaleb was rather impressed with the idea of a huge, monstrous creature who could both defend the group and quote, and possible even write, Taldan poetry. Though the defense part was more of a draw."
She pauses to sip some hot tea, then continues. "It seems our asking them to try to calm the good citizens of Lepidstadt backfired somewhat. Some of the locals decided they were already involved with -Andrew- and, well, there was a bit of a mini-riot. I tried to calm the group but someone...I think it might have been that woman you were feuding with in the courtroom, Eloise...yelled that I was an ally of the Beast and trying to get Andrew free 'to kill again'. Things got a bit messy then. Someone hit me from behind, and the next thing I remember was waking up to this gentleman healing me." She gestures to Kaven.
"Kaleb decided to move the Kin away for a bit, though we can still hook up with them once we get Andrew. We went with them to make sure they stayed safe and that we could find them again."
As you are about to leave, Judge Daramid kindly looks at you four. "If you do find Andrew's creator, perhaps you can learn how to control him, or convince his creator to keep a tighter leash on him." she says asks as she ushers you out.
On their way back from Judge Daramid’s meeting, you notice a large number of people gathering on the streets with torches and various weapons and farm tools. People are talking in hushed tones and you get the sense that the townsfolk have heard that Andrew is to be released and they intend to rectify what they see as a fault in the justice system.
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Gruoch sees the crowd. "Time to do a bit of investigating. Give me a sign or something if plans come up."
Gruoch slips into the crowd, listening to conversations to gather intel.
unless she should use Perception, then +2 : )
Whispering to Chuck, "I don't think I'm going to pick up much. What do you hear about this Andrew character, my love?"
Chuck hears the chattering of humans, but can't possibly understand as he is a scorpion, while Gruoch seems to flit between groups, not quite understanding the purpose of the mob or really what their end game is.
Sour Heck steers his path past the gathering mob, keeping his head down until the party is past them. Then he stage-whispers to Eloise just loudly enough to be heard by some of the more gullible-looking townsfolk, "Don't worry about a thing--they'll never find him in the basement of that burned-down sanitarium Sanctuary!" He then glances back long enough for his face to be recognized, and hustles away quickly.
"Of course not," Eloise chimes in, loud enough for the targets of Sour Heck's deception to hear her.
"These folks would never be able to open the three puzzle-locks on his sanctuary door. Good thing, too; they could just slaughter him if they got to him while he's still in the sanctuary."
Once the group is past the building mob, Eloise smirks.
"Methinks we should go and see Andrew off. I need to visit a wizard's shop, too, though. Time to turn all of this coin into equipment for the days to come."
Amaia jogs over to the others, "This mob here to see us off? You've really got a knack for making friends it seems. Any last minute stops?"
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Seeing her newly found comrades attempting to spread rumors and moving onto to stores and whatnot, Gruoch decides to ebb her way out from the crowd.
She murmurs to herself, "By Desna, are ever going to investigate this castle at Schloss Caromarc? This group really likes to take their time."
Gruoch follows Elouise to the shops.
Sour Heck nods at Amaia. "Yes, we're headed to the pawnshops by the university in search of spells for Eloise and castle-storming gear for us all. I wonder if I could find an Inferno Cloak?"
"Eloise is hoping to find an adamantite weapon. Ordinarily I'd think she could--all kinds of trade metals come down through Lepidstadt from Numeria, and the university keeps many smiths and alchemists in business--but I suspect every scrap of adamantite has been snatched up since the Trial began. We'll see."
Sour Heck attempts to purchase supplies over the course of the day, including:
A cooking kit, 3 g
Five mess kits, 1g
Twenty days of trail rations, 10g
A scrivener’s kit, 2g
Three flasks of acid, 30g
Three flasks of alchemist’s fire, 60g
One dose of antiplague, 50g
One smokestick, 20g
One tanglefoot bag, 50g
A spare spell component pouch, 5g
Four waterskins, 4g
The bard also tries to sell some excess alchemical items: two vials of grease for 5g and eight doses of bloodblock for 100g.
If all goes as planned, he stuffs everything in the party’s newly acquired haversack, which he secures with their stone of alarm and fortifying stone. “I’m leaving plenty of room for bottles,” Sour Heck says, clearly not meaning potions.
The group seems to maybe throw off a couple people, but there doesn't seem to be an organized leadership yet, so their efforts might be in vain or it might buy them a few days until a guard or hunter spreads word of Andrew's true position.
---
"All sales are final..." utters the droll man who sells Sour Heck the goods that he requests, taking the man's money easily.
Sour Heck's final transaction of the day is selling three masterwork handaxes and a set of thieves' tools to a Sczarni tinker. "I wouldn't try to sell those locally, friend, especially to any orange-haired, scarred gnomes"
He then returns to Gorlak's and claims a table by the fireside for the party. "Is that stew I smell? No, don't tell me what's in it--there are some things man was not meant to know. I'll have an ale--no? Sold out of the good stuff? All those folks in town for the trial, no doubt. Well, bring us what you have, and plenty of it."
Sour Heck waves everybody to a seat. "Most of you have met, but to be proper: This is Eloise, this Iesha. Here's Gruoch, and here's Amaia. This I've heard is Kaleb, and I'm Hecsadmir Chevedzku, though folks mostly call me Sour Heck. Heck, if you're short on time or breath."
The bard is standing near the center of the table, talking loudly enough that his voice carries through the tavern, perhaps catching the attention of the innkeeper and the other guests. "Well, it'll be a long night, and we'll need a distraction from what we're about to eat and drink, so here's the tale of the Haunting of Harrowstone, of five convicted killers who escaped the grave and the heroes who put them back down. How do I know the story? Why, I was there. It all started with a letter telling me that an old friend of mine, Professor Lorrimor, had left me something in his will. Now, I've never been comfortable about getting gifts from dead people..."
Sour Heck moves through the room, making the whole tavern his audience as he spins the tale in his usual mordant style. After drawing them in with that ghost story, he moves on to tell his side of the Trial of the Beast, without mentioning Justice Daramid.
By the time he's done, the stew is long gone and the fire burnt to embers. Heck bows to the other guests, then sits down at the party's table and gestures for them all to lean in close. "This next part is just for your ears."
After listening to the tale, you seemingly bed down for the night at Gorlak's, letting the mob of people tromp past the door to the inn into the night, seeking harm on the newly freed Beast.
In the morning, the town is quiet. Many of the mob have no returned and it is whispered that they are still searching for the creature, though the hint that he was at Sanctuary turned out to be false.
The group heads out after the party reconvenes with Iesha and meets their new friend Kaven and makes for Schloss Caromarc.
---
The fens give way to a deep, rocky gorge at the northern edge of the swamp, where a peculiar building, or rather group of buildings, clings to steep cliff edges above half a dozen plummeting waterfalls. Beyond a fortified gatehouse, a stone bridge arches gracefully over the raging torrents below. Perched precariously beyond this is a fine, fortified manse and a ruined building that appears to have partially collapsed into the river below. A slender rope bridge, replacing the fallen remnants of a stone bridge, links to a strange tower pierced with beautiful stained glass windows depicting bizarre beasts. A further building teeters to the north of this, but how it is reached is impossible to see from here. Far above, a great tower rises from an isle of stone to the sky, ending in a great steeple topped with a huge lightning conductor.
In front of you, you see a guardpost at the gatehouse. The two-story stone gatehouse leads into the castle, topped with a crenellated tower at each corner. The main gate is closed.
Outside the gate, two large, green hounds rest in the grass, though their eyes and ears appear alert.
"There's a kind of necromancer at work in Vieland, someone who sews corpses together and animates them--not as undead, but as golems. Maybe he tells himself that makes it all right---maybe he excuses graverobbing and desecration and maybe murder too because he's working towards some goal. He's planning something, too. He forced the Beast to steal an idol from the local library, for who knows what horrors."
"Sounds like a job for Vieland constablary, yes? Here's the catch: the necromancer is most likely Count Caromarc, who used to rule Vieland, and who still has money and power and influence. Only a bunch of fools would meddle in his private affairs. He's either a sinister, merciless resurrectionist who will chop up trespassers for spare parts, or he's a paranoid recluse who surrounds himself with death traps. Or, likely, both."
"We leave for his castle, Schloss Caromarc, tomorrow morning. Try not to think too much about what's waiting there for us...you'll need a good night's sleep."
For the green hounds:
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Taking a look at the green hounds too.
unless it's somehow Arcana then add 2 more.
"I look to you all as experience adventurers who clearly know much of the history surrounding this quest of sorts. Do we blast our way through the front door? Try a lie or two? Slip in through the shadows or while invisible? I rather not attempt any climbing or swimming... how base."
"Well, looks like the Count likes pets. I wonder if they're more friendly than the one that belonged to Vorkstag & Grine?"
"These do look like different creatures, though" she remarks, commenting in an aside to the new group members "They had a golem hound."
, Eloise pays a visit to the magic store, where she purchases two scrolls and the inks she needs to scribe one of them into her book. In addition, she buys a pearl necklace.
Afterward, she insists on visiting a moneychanger, where she swaps some of her remaining gold for platinum.
"That's me done," she says. "Time for some scribing."
And scribe she does, later that day, while Sour Heck regales everyone with the group's adventures.
"Might not be a necromancer," she comments. "Any kind of spellcaster with sufficient power could do it. Sleep on that, if you dare."
, Eloise eyes the defences appraisingly.
"This is a proper castle," she says. "I wouldn't try climbing in for a bet. Those hounds'd sniff out anyone trying the old invisibility trick. Don't suppose anyone can cast the Fly spell, can they?"
"Sorry, not me. I wish we'd thought to pick up a scroll of it, though."
"Couldn't cast it with ease just yet," Eloise says, shrugging. "Bit above my reach - for now."
Gruoch looks over the beasts and quickly remembers seeing them in the past.
Sour Heck eyes the dogs warily.
"Do any of you heroes have a spell that would let us pass by without hurting them? I don't know what the Count does with trespassers, but I'm sure he does something worse with trespassers who kill his pets."
Sour Heck seems to recognize the hounds, but isn't quite as knowledgeable as Gruoch, though he doesn't know it yet.
"Iesha, I think you're right, those aren't golem hounds. They're trollhounds. When I was growing up by the Graidmere, a pack of them caught up to our taxman on the road and pulled him and his horse down. The whole village morned his loss. He was on his way out of the village, you see, and we knew the countess would send another."
Sour Heck surveys the area, trying to find a place where they could approach the walls of the schloss out of the trollhounds' view. As he looks around, he spots a hawthorn growing in the fen just beside the road.
"Have a look, Eloise, Iesha, it's our heraldic beast." The bard steps over and admires its blossoms. "Not as fearsome as a lion or direwolf, granted, but not something you'd ever want to take a bite out of," he says, gingerly touching the inch-long thorns that line the tree's branches.
He addresses Gruoch and Amaia and quiet Kaven. "Traveling here with us to bracket the Count takes...courage? Foolishness? Suicidal urges? Something in that zone. You folks can consider yourselves part of the Hawthorn Society for attempting it. This isn't some chivalrous order with oaths and dues or anything. Just a group of companions willing to stand together and stubbornly, mulishly, thornily hold back the shadows that haunt this land." The bard pauses, as if listening to a faint whisper. "You know, this might be a grave? Country folks often plant trees instead of headstones, to avoid the notice of graverobbers. They like a hawthorn for that, to protect the body...or hold it down. Doesn't feel like there's any malicious spirit lingering here, though. Just the opposite."
The bard's eyes close, and he seems to have a short, whispered discussion with a presence in the tree. "Huh. Might be there's some spirits that wish our Society well."
Sour Heck looks back at the entrance to the schloss. "In the absence of any other plan, I could possibly distract those trollhounds long enough to get us to the gatehouse door. There's a lot of dumb beasts that can be bewildered by a beating drum. Won't know if it's working until it's too late to back out, though. If someone else has a better idea...which shouldn't be hard, since I can't imagine a worse one...speak up quick."
"Perhaps this could help," Amaia says as she pulls a tanglefoot bag out. "We can slow them down and knock them out."
"If they've the bloos of Trolls, we need do more than knock them out. We must burn them to death."
"All right, we'll try Amaia's slow-them-down plan when my plan backfires horribly. We'll call Eloise's set-the-Count's-pets-on-fire plan 'Plan C'." Sour Heck retrieves his Rope of Climbing from the party's haversack. "Knot up," he says, and the rope convulses into an easier-to-climb form. "All right, Eloise, take Walter here. All of you stay close. If it looks like the dogs are bewildered by my drum, move quick as you can to open the gatehouse doors, hustle through them, and shut them when we're all in. Don't make any hostile moves towards the dogs--don't touch a weapon, don't cast a spell, don't look them in the eyes. If the door is locked, Eloise will tell Walter to snake his way up the gatehouse wall, and we'll all climb for the battlements. I'll go last through the door or up the rope--we'll have ten breaths or so after I stop drumming before they recover their senses."
The bard pauses. "I promise you this is only about the third worst plan I've ever made sober. Time to see if that spell I read over a wizard's shoulder at the university really works."
Sour Heck waves his hankerchief around theatrically while pronouncing words of power badly. Suddenly there are several of him standing sheepishly in the road. "I guess Stoneskin was the spell on the other side of the page." All the Hecks sigh, get out their bodhráns, and trudge down the road towards the trollhounds.
When everyone is ready, he begins to knock out a startlingly eccentric beat on his bodhrán. If the trollhounds seem affected, he ushers the rest of the party quickly past them while he continues the performance.
The two trollhounds perk up as Sour Heck begins to bang on his drums. One of the creatures sit down and wags his head from side to side, while the other begins to bay, but it sounds quite odd to those not used to the creature's noise. The combination of snorting and howling seems to have alerted whomever might be in the guardhouse.
Initiative
Initiative:
1st: Sour Heck
2nd: ???
3rd: Amaia; Kaven; Gruoch; Iesha; Eloise
4th: ???
Status
Trollhound (Red) - Fascinated
"Now, why would I attack such an attentive audience?" Sour Heck nods amiably at the one captivated hound. "And however tempted I have been in the past, I make it a rule not to attack audience members unless they attack first," he says, nodding at the howling one. "Plan A is definitely out, but I think we'd all rather this end with drinks in the Count's salon rather than blood at his gate. Let's see if the guards like a little gabber."
Sour Heck leaves off his drumming and hails the gatehouse. "Hello in there! You have a traveling bard and his retinue at your gate, bringing the news from Lepidstadt to Count Caromarc and his household! Prepare to thrill at the account of the Trial of the Beast! Hear all the market gossip, and the latest discoveries from Lepidstadt university! Learn important facts, such as how the flesh of bards can ruin a dog's digestion!"
Sour Heck moves to interpose himself and all his images between the trollhounds and the rest of his party, presenting some obvious targets to the dogs. He makes ready to avoid snapping teeth.