You have been stationed at the Grand Lodge in Absalom, awaiting assignment for a mission that you hope will be of utmost importance.
Things finally seemed in motion when Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng sent out a summons for available agents. Specialized in the history of Absalom, Dreng is known for putting off-duty agents to work on sundry tasks when he finds them resting within the city’s limits.
You were asked to all come together in one of the meeting rooms of the Grand Lodge and have been waiting for a couple of minutes already but Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng has not arrived, yet.
Drandle Dreng is the venture-captain of the Pathfinder Society who handles Pathfinder assignments concerning Absalom's history and mysteries. He has a remarkable memory: he recalls hidden truths about the city's most important people that even they have forgotten. These secrets are not just gathered from Pathfinder agents: he gathers information personally.
|
A tall tiefling in expensive garments befitting a noble and a bejeweled cane whose gem protrusions could probably poke someone's eye out arrives at the appointed Grand Lodge's meeting room. An impatient prehensile tail with an apparent life of its own sways from left to right through a knee-length long coat that is unbuttoned the whole way through, allowing a glimpse of the man's muscled chest through a half-opened frilled silk shirt, his skin a deep crimson.
On his back, a backpack of impressive size rests easily upon his massive shoulders, over a large scythe and a quiver of javelins, while a dagger with a bejeweled scabbard hang on his right hip from a wide belt engraved with dizzying yet elegant patterns.
Taking in the scene for a moment, he then flashes a fanged smile at the assembled Pathfinder agents.
"Here you are, gentlemen. Allow me to introduce myself. Visbaron Maaldrek of Oppara. How do you do!"
|
A young red haired Taldan woman stumbles into the meeting room, pack over one shoulder, books falling out of the other.
Sorry...sorry...sorry.... she apologizes, for what the others have no idea. My summons didn't make its way to me until this morning. Had to leave in a hurry...as you can plainly see. Arioch! the girl drops her stuff and hugs the half orc. Nice to see you again...uhh.. she collects herself and blushes. Sorry...got a bit carried away. Arioch and i were on a mission together recently...my first as a Pathfinder. I'm Cara, servant of the Dawnflower...nice to meet you all... she says as she lowers her head and tries to not die of embarrassment.
|
Illyndar sees the others enter the room and nods them in turn. "Well met new friends. I am Illyndar Erlathan Arazorwyn of the Fylvendor Family of the Greenblood Clan. You can just call me Illyndar Greenblood or just Illyn. The other formal names came be a handful to say." He pulls out a spare pipe from his backpack and offers it to anyone if they care to smoke with him.
"I just recently joined the Society, family debt to be paid and all, but I have family members, mostly distant cousins, who are members and they mostly say it is fun and rewarding."
|
|
Illyndar sees the others enter the room and nods them in turn. "Well met new friends. I am Illyndar Erlathan Arazorwyn of the Fylvendor Family of the Greenblood Clan. You can just call me Illyndar Greenblood or just Illyn. The other formal names came be a handful to say." He pulls out a spare pipe from his backpack and offers it to anyone if they care to smoke with him.
"I just recently joined the Society, family debt to be paid and all, but I have family members, mostly distant cousins, who are members and they mostly say it is fun and rewarding."
"Did you say 'discount cousins'? Those are the worst!"
Suddenly a little female gnome with pink hair opens the door to your meeting room and asks “Are you the team waiting for Drandle? He won’t be able to meet you here but left an address for you to meet him. Here you go!“
She hands one of you a piece of paper with the address and runs out as fast as she had arrived.
~
The little female gnome with the pink hair puts her head into the room again and says "Oh sorry, I forgot to tell you that Drandle wants you to introduce yourself properly to each other. He said that this mission can involve a lot of ale and he wants you to know each other at least a little before you see each other completely drunk!" she says with a sly smile and closes the door.
|
Not even five seconds later the door is opened again and a muscular dwarf in a basic yet a little exotic outfit (sandals, breeches and a loose shirt, bound together with sashes) enters.
His hair, beard and skin are light brown - nearly the same tone as his clothes.
On him you can see some rather uncommon weapons: three sticks of metal, connected by short chains, and also a sword with several branches.
He gives each of the pathfinders in the room a brief look, followed by a nod.
"Hello. I am Baldrum Battlehand. Our group isn't complete yet, I assume..."
Then he walks to the wall opposed the entrance, turns around and sits down cross-legged on the floor.
Not one for much small talk, it seems...
|
|
"Well met Brother Battlehand. You are correct that there is a straggler yet to arrive. I wager 10 silver that this person has probably experienced delays due to some uncooperating and boorish beast of burden. Any takers?"
The tiefling flashes a smile, awaiting a response from the assembled Pathfinders.
You decide to go to the address and any Pathfinders that are late will receive the address from the lovely young gnome.
Coming to the meeting place—an odd choice of venue, as it is a street corner far from the Grand Lodge—a lone beggar garbed in baggy robes approaches. The only figure visible in the constant drizzle, the beggar sticks out his hands for currency.
“Have you any coin to spare, fine folk?”
|
|
"Since I did not lose any in gambling misadventures yet, why yes, my good man. Here's a few silvers, which should be able to get you a warm meal and a pint somewhere, even in a vaunted city like this!"
Maaldrek sets a few coins in the man's hand, trying to discern his immediate intent. Was the man licking his lips at the thought of food? was he swallowing in anticipation of a welcomed refreshment? or was he holding his cloak closed tight to ward off against the weather? The burdens of the flesh were as numerous as the joys it could yield, and life was always a dance along the knife's edge that separated pain from pleasure...
The question hangs in the air for only a scant moment when Maaldrek offers his coins before the figure pulls back his hood to reveal the wizened face of Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng. He gives a crooked smile, soaked head to toe from his unprotected time in the rain. His clothes smell faintly of cabbage.
“Sorry about that Maaldrek,” he says with a wink. “I always like to play a little joke on agents when I stumble across them during my jaunts into town. Now, why did I summon you fine folk here again…?”
Dreng shakes his head from side to side, as though trying to knock water out of his ears, despite the constant downpour.
“Ah yes, the Wounded Wisp! I’m undercover now and can’t stray far from the site I’m watching, but I need someone to retrieve a package for me from that fine establishment. It’s among Absalom’s most storied taverns, you see, and one that holds a special place of privilege in the Society’s lore as the place where the organization began. Well, I could drone on and on about it, but standing out in the rain is doing none of us any favors.”
As if anticipating agreement, the bedraggled Venture-Captain produces a small slip of folded paper from one of his many stitched pockets. Dreng quickly shows a glimpse of the page’s contents: a map detailing the location of the Wounded Wisp bar.
“The bartender is a woman by the name of Heryn Gale, a fine lady who came to own the Wisp after the passing of her father from—oh, bah, it’s really getting too cold for me to give a proper history lesson! If you could just go to the Wisp, and tell Heryn you’re there to pick up my parcel, it would be most appreciated. I’ll be around here for several more hours at least.”
The Wounded Wisp was a bar once frequented by the original members of the Pathfinder Society before the Society was even formed. Inside the Wisp, acquaintances would share stories about their adventurous exploits with one another.
Many volumes of the Pathfinder Chronicles came together under the Wisp’s roof. Famous Pathfinders like Eando Kline and the Seeker Osprey often stopped by for a drink while they relaxed in Absalom between assignments. Though not officially affiliated with the Society, the bar maintains good relations with Pathfinders, offering discounts and prompt service. The owners have always kept themselves and the Wisp afloat through the generosity of Society agents who spend coin at the establishment.
Selmius Foster was one of the founding members of the Pathfinder Society, known to have frequented the Wisp often and occasionally taken up residence in a spare room between his travels. His celebrated exploits first appeared in Volume 1 of the Pathfinder Chronicles.
Following the death of Selmius Foster on the island of Bhopan, his assistant Adolphus made several donations to maintain one of his mentor’s favorite sites. The exact arrangement between Adolphus and the owners of the Wisp was never disclosed, but it is said that some of this gold came from the same fortune that Adolphus used to found the Pathfinder lodge in Quantium.
“Do you have any questions?“
|
|
Of course, my good man...here....wha...? Cara almost drops the coins she fetches from her purse to give to the man, then realizes it's Drandle Dreng himself.
Umm....ok...sure... she says, puzzled at the request, but willing to do it regardless.
None come to mind, sir. Here...this might help your cover... Cara whispers as she gets out her holy symbol and utters a minor prayer to Sarenrae, as if blessing the man.
Sarenrae, grant your warm touch to this poor soul, that he might take the right path on his journey through life...
|
|
"My apologies, I am schooled in a variety of topics including alchemy, arcane arts, magical beasts, aberrations, under-life, animals, fey, plants, the weather and seasons and even planar magic but not this is my first time to this city and I do not know enough about this locale to make an educated guess.... oh never mind... it seems our new friend Cara knows some things we need. I wonder if there will be gnomish berry wine?" The elf tells the others trying to impress them with his academic schooling while also staying on opposite ends of the group from the rude dwarf...
|
|
Maaldrek is taken by surprise by Dreng's disguise but smiles in appreciation. After hearing what the Pathfinder master has to say, Maaldrek adds, "If it wasn't for that delightful glimpse of your abilities for subterfuge, master Dreng, I would say no to such a boring request. Fetching packages is what goes for assignments at the Society these days hmm? However, I trust that this seemingly simple task will get us involved in your twisted machinations somehow, and on that basis, I accept."
Maaldrek looks at the map, and on the way there, nods in thanks when Cara reveals the local history behind the place.
"Gnomish berry wine maybe!! But: Twisted machinations?!? What, no, No! It really is only a wine bottle! After I have my bottle your real mission is going to start but you see ... I cannot leave now and would so much like to have a good glass of wine." Dreng says with a smile.
|
|
The question hangs in the air for only a scant moment when Maaldrek offers his coins before the figure pulls back his hood to reveal the wizened face of Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng. He gives a crooked smile, soaked head to toe from his unprotected time in the rain. His clothes smell faintly of cabbage.
“Sorry about that Maaldrek,” he says with a wink. “I always like to play a little joke on agents when I stumble across them during my jaunts into town. Now, why did I summon you fine folk here again…?”
Dreng shakes his head from side to side, as though trying to knock water out of his ears, despite the constant downpour.
“Ah yes, the Wounded Wisp! I’m undercover now and can’t stray far from the site I’m watching, but I need someone to retrieve a package for me from that fine establishment. It’s among Absalom’s most storied taverns, you see, and one that holds a special place of privilege in the Society’s lore as the place where the organization began. Well, I could drone on and on about it, but standing out in the rain is doing none of us any favors.”
"Wait one second. I thought the bloody Pig's Paunch was the place the Society got it's stahrt." says a man with a broad smile and a rough and ready look about himself, and perhaps an even rougher accent. "Anyway, I'm Ierwin Vest, Any one 'ere seen a moose ahround town? I usually find 'im 'angin' out at bahrs like this place drinkin' 'imself rotten."
"THERE YOU ARE BUZZ!" says Ierwin to the smallish moose at the bar. The ruminant belches long and loud and looks glassily around.
"Oh Buzz." Ierwin says with a sigh. Then the outdoorsman makes introductions with broad sweeps of his arms. "Everyone, this is Buzzwinkle, 'n Buzzwinkle this is everyone. Bahrkeep I'll 'ave what 'e's 'avin'."
Upon noticing Illyndar fox companion Ierwin gets down on hands and knees, and greets them with pets and chin scratches. "Oh ayyn't you just the cutest little fennie*. I'm Ierwin 'n that's Buzz. What's yah name aye? What do they call ya mate?"
Dreng laughs.
”Ha ha … The Pig's Paunch's role in founding the Pathfinder Society was in doubt for much of its history, with some Pathfinders contesting that the Society had been formally created instead at the Wounded Wisp. However, writings of founding Pathfinder Kerinha Napsunar recovered confirmed the sequence of events — that the ideas coalesced during a pub crawl from the Pig's Paunch to the Crimson Coin and Vert Pippen, then ending at the Wisp — but also further cemented the Wisp's claim as the home of the Society's naming, foundational concepts, and plans for the first Grand Convocation!!“ he says.
|
|
"I do not gamble, Maaldrek", Baldrum answers. That's all he says.
When the group finally decides to go to the address where VC Drend should be, he swiftly gets up and goes quietly with them.
---
Oh, this elf surely thinks he knows a lot, doesn't he? But can he fight, huh? Nothing of that will help him when he is faced with a fist - or worse... Baldrum rolls his eyes.
"Don't know nothing about the place at all. Doesn't matter. Let's go and get this bottle of wine quickly so we can start the real mission. Maaldrek, Cara, please lead the way."
---
Baldrum raises an eyebrow when he sees the drinking moose. But he has manners, of course, so he introduces himself with a small nod.
"Hello Buzzwinkle, hello Ierwin Vest. I am Baldrum Battlehand."
The monk then turns to the bartender.
"Heryn Gale, I presume? We were summoned here to collect a package..."
[dice=Perception]1d20+4
Arioch makes his way to the bar and asks the bartender where they might find Heryn Gale.
"Pardon me do you know where we might find Heryn Gale? We've been sent to retrieve a parcel for someone. So what on the menu do you recommend?"
The bartender gives Arioch funny, glassy-eyed stare. As if he weren't a bartender at all, but instead a large woodland animal.
It snorts loudly, and wiggles it's ears, before moving it's huge head, and looking across the bar at someone who looks more like a professional barkeep--but in Absalom you never really know.
|
|
Oh! A moose? I've never seen one before. They're just like big horses, right? We have a couple back at the abbey...for workibg on the fields to grow food for the priests and the poor. He's so cute... the awestruck priestess says as she moves closer and reaches kut to pet the moose's face gently.
Does he like berries? I have some left over I think...dried.. but still tasty... she asks as she rummages about in her pouch for some snacks
When you decide to leave the VC waves goodbye.
"You can find me here again when you got my bottle. I am not going anywhere at the moment.”
He suddenly stares to corner to his right and hesitates moment – then looks at you “Run, run, otherwise you might be too late!“
Following the instructions you arrive at the Wounded Wisp bar.
LOCATION
The Wounded Wisp is located in the Foreign Quarter district of Absalom, close to the grounds of the Grand Lodge. Dreng’s hastily sketched map provides basic directions. You have no difficulty finding the establishment with the map Dreng provided. Almost every initiate or member has heard of or seen the building at some point.
* * * * *
DESCRIPTION
Built from dark, discolored wood, the exterior of the Wounded Wisp is the image of an iconic dive bar. Stained and barred windows obscure direct vision into the establishment, though ruddy yellow light bleeds from a window in the front hall. In the hours just before dawn, the building closes long enough for menials to clean and to give staff a rest.
The only distinguishing feature on the Wisp’s exterior is a thick wooden sign hanging from above the bar’s entrance. A brass ring fitted onto the sign anchors a lantern—referred to by the staff as “the wisp”— that hangs there during the evening hours.
A1. Entry Hall: This long wooden hallway is the entrance to the Wounded Wisp, heading north into the building itself. The walls are covered in numerous decorations and trophies left by successful Pathfinders who’ve donated minor paraphernalia to the bar.
A2. Coat Check: This large closet contains various coat racks and shelves for patrons to place any equipment they don’t want to lug with them. Typically a teenager works here and manages any garments the patrons wish to stow.
A3. Main Hall: Tables fill the main floor of the Wounded Wisp where patrons sit with colleagues and share stories over drinks. Three sets of stairs lead up to a raised dining area (area A5).
A4. Bar: Staffed by at least one employee of the Wounded Wisp, the bar holds a variety of different beers, while hard liquors are kept in a glass case on the wall behind the bar.
A5. Dining Area: Four feet above the main floor of the Wounded Wisp, this section is sectioned off by elegant metal railings. On this level, patrons can enjoy a more private meal without the noise of the area below.
* * * * * *
YOU STEP INSIDE
The smell of smoke and spilled ale assails the senses in this wide-open area. Walls of dark-stained wood make up the sides of the Wounded Wisp, while well-used wooden tables are spread throughout the space. A raised area in the back of the establishment houses several additional tables and eating areas for groups seeking more than just a good drink. An austere bar supported by kegs instead of wooden panels commands the northern end of the room. A stained-glass cabinet stands behind the bar, its dark panes cracked in several spots, yet not so opaque as to conceal the several dozen types of hard liquor within.
As you arrive, a handful of different groups are already relaxing around the bar, enjoying drink and food offered by the Wisp’s staff.
You all notice that the current talk of the bar is that Sir Reinhart of Kenabres, a Mendevian crusader who recently arrived from the north, plans on attempting the Test of the Starstone, the legendary trial by which one might ascend to godhood.
+++++++++++
Standing here in the Wounded Wisp you see a lot of Wayfinders in the open and realize that this tavern is still very much frequented by Pathfinders
You look around and some of you see the faces of people that you have once or twice seen in the Grand Lodge.
On the other side of the bar sits the military historian Yargos Gill, one of the few patrons who bear no direct affiliation with the Society. Despite this, Gill has often found himself wrapped up in the Society’s affairs and he has come to accept the Pathfinders as allies. The older man is sipping from an oversized flagon of ale while reading through a large and ominous-looking tome.
Next to the bar sits Janira Gavix. Having completed her ow n Confirmation several months ago, the female halfling bard enjoys taking breaks at the Wounded Wisp. You have heard that Janira has an extraordinary memory, and that she spends much time here learning about the exploits of other adventurers and relating her own tales with oratorical flourishes.
Looking at her table you have the impression that Janira already has a group of newly confirmed Pathfinders listening to her tales of Society founder Durvin Gest and the fabled Lens of Galundari.
For those of you who know her, Heryn Gale works the bar of the Wounded Wisp tonight, catering directly to those sitting on stools while simultaneously preparing drinks for those at tables and coordinating the wait staff.
Baldrum raises an eyebrow when he sees the drinking moose. But he has manners, of course, so he introduces himself with a small nod.
"Hello Buzzwinkle, hello Ierwin Vest. I am Baldrum Battlehand."
The monk then turns to the bartender.
"Heryn Gale, I presume? We were summoned here to collect a package..."
"Oh hello gentlemen, I am Heryn, hard to believe that I still need to introduce myself." she says laughing. Then she takes your orders and serves you everything you need.
Heryn stares at you when you mention the package.
"Oh of course, I was wondering when Drandle would get his bottle. I cannot accompany you down at the moment as I have to wait until my replacement arrives so that I can step away from the bar. Look, up there are two free tables. Take a seat and have a drink and I will be with you within the next hour, ok?"
|
|
Well, that's just great. Another hour waiting where I could be on an important mission... This time, however, Baldrum refrains from rolling his eyes.
"In that case, do you have any dwarven ale? If yes, I'll take two pints, please. Otherwise, I'll have just a mug of water."
With that, the dwarf waits for his drink(s) and heads for one of the two free tables.
Hm, that halfling over there must be Janira Gavix. Another Know-it-all, it seems. I heard her confirmation was just a few months ago. Hardly an experienced agent, so surely not worth paying attention to. But if I have to wait, I can as well listen...
|
|
Cara tries to see if her sunny disposition can help break the ice with the locals and glean some information.
Ooh, a fellow Sarenite. I'm going to go and chat with him. He looks like a nice fellow... Cara says as she orders a cup of tea for herself and a plate of biscuits and snackbreads with spreads.
She nods in deference to the man, clearly a higher ranking member of the clergy than she is.
Blessing of the Dawnflower upon you, sir. Would you mind if I sat down and chatted? I brought snacks...in case you were deep in contemplation and forgot to eat. Happens to me all the time when studying... she says politely as she sets the plate down on the table.
|
|
Maaldrek immediately begins to strike conversations with his the other Pathfinder groups.
Maaldrek notes that he has better luck with those who shunned Arioch, while Arioch seems to make headway with those that shunned him!
"Arioch, between the two of us, and with the help of Cara and Baldrum, I think we've talked to everyone here... mind comparing notes over some brandy?"
Buzzwinkle moves up to the counter and introduces himself by knocking the bowl of peanuts off the bar with his huge snout.
|
|
"....be with us in the next hour..... hmph.... indeed..." Illyndar mutters under his breath... "Do you have a wine list?" he asks. "I was hoping for something rather light to the palette. Fruit based- maybe apple flavored?" he inquires thinking he is in an elven establishment back in Kyonin. "If not then I will take your finest red. I'll let you decide. Surprise me."
He then sits down in a chair then moves when the dwarf sits next to him... and then moves again when the orc sits where he was going. He tries to sit next to the moose which he has taken a keen interest in.
"I'm not sure alcohol and spirits are good for animals, especially one so young."
"In that case, do you have any dwarven ale? If yes, I'll take two pints, please. Otherwise, I'll have just a mug of water."
"Of course we have dwarven ale! Here you go!" Heryn says with a smile.
She nods in deference to the man, clearly a higher ranking member of the clergy than she is.
Blessing of the Dawnflower upon you, sir. Would you mind if I sat down and chatted? I brought snacks...in case you were deep in contemplation and forgot to eat. Happens to me all the time when studying... she says politely as she sets the plate down on the table.
The Kelishite man looks at Cara and answers "Oh young lady of course you may join me discussing the book I am reading and we can eat together. Please sit down and let us have tea first."
He politely starts pouring you a cup of tea and sets his book aside.
"My name is Aram bin Kaleel. You being in this tavern most certainly means that you are a Pathfinder. But I have not seen you here before. Any advice that I can share is yours."
"Aye mates! Don't mind Buzz heah. He knows his way ahround a bahr." says Ierwin to the table of half-humans. "So wat's shakin'?"
Arioch visits the two other half-orcs and checks the local scene,
"Hey how are you doing? Arioch is the name. Anything on the menu here any good?"
Giving Schrade a wink he will sit closer to her.
Garl and Shrade look at you Ierwin and Arioch with a curious look on their faces.
Garl scratches his head "Hmmm ... do I know you?!"
Suddenly, Shrade hits her brother with her fist. "You idiot! These are Ierwin and Arioch! We met them in the Grand Lodge!" she says with a smirk.
You start an easy conversation with the the two half-orcs and they are eager to share stories of battle over a mug of ale with you.
You notice that they’re on friendly terms with the Wisp’s staff, mainly due to the large tab they rack up over the course of an evening.
The Boartusk Twins come off as familial comrades, especially to those that share their more martial mindset.
Maaldrek immediately begins to strike conversations with his the other Pathfinder groups.
Janira suddenly turns around to Maaldrek and smiles at him.
"Oh hello handsome! You know me? You look familiar. Wow, guys look I am already famous! Maaldrek is your name, right?!" she says laughing to the group around her.
"I need to get another drink!" Janira says to the group she is sitting with and comes to the bar where the moose and Illyndar Greenblood are standing. She orders ale and starts to observe Maaldrek and Illyndar.
Janira winks at Illyndar "What is his name? Does this fresh agent belong to you Maaldrek?" she asks Maaldrek but also lets her view wander to the moose.
|
|
Thank you. I'm Cara. And yes, my first time here. I'm a rather new agent, this being my second foray for the Society. My two older brothers, Therin and Goran are somewhat seasoned agents. They don't know I've joined up...I just left the abbey a few weeks ago. How hard is it to follow the tenets of the church while balancing the needs of the Society? I've heard that some missions can get...difficult for those with certain beliefs. Are you an active field agent? I know some agents are behind the scene types...researchers, scholars and the like. It's all so much t process... the wide eyed priestess says as she sips her tea and nibbles at a biscuit.
Aram bin Kaleel nods at Cara after her comment and smiles.
He starts a deeper discussion with you. "Actually, it is easy to be a cleric of the Dawnflower and an agent. You have to follow your heart!" He opens his cloak for you to see his holy symbol of Sarenrae.
"I am not an active field agent. But I like how Pathfinders stand together when they are pushed. We all are here and share similar roots ... and are so different ... I see a little of myself in your current situation as new Pathfinders." he says smiling.
During the discussion you feel that Aram bin Kaleel wants to give advice to younger Pathfinders but never steps in directly on their behalf. If you want to know something you could surely ask.
"One warning for you. I espouse a belief in a balanced approach when acting on behalf of the Society — particularly when it comes to Pathfinders with little knowledge and an overabundance of brawn."
Aram continues “A Pathfinder should stand on his own two feet, but be able to lean on a fellow agent when needed. That is a common mantra espoused by Keleshite and also my philosophy ... but tell me more of yourself - what are your goals in the society?"
|
|
Maadrek smiles, his pure-white fangs glinting in the torchlight, clearly flattered at being called handsome by the halfling woman. "Ah, dear Janira Gavix! of course I know you! your reputation precedes you, as always. One day you'll have to take me to that mountain test of yours. I'd love to go camping with you for a few days my dear..."
Maaldrek sits next to her, grabbing a few drinks and clinking each one of them with Janira's when it is time to start a new one. After a few minutes of hushed talk, Maaldrek raises his voice once more and answers Janira on the subject of his companion. "This fine agent here is Illyndar Greenblood, and no, he is not under my supervision. Him and I are seemingly on the same Dreng-errand right now. Get this: the man wants us to fetch wine for him tonight. It's a good thing that Illyndar here is a fully trained wizard. I don't know who Dreng speaks to for his job assignments, but they seem to err squarely on the side of overqualified agents if you ask me..."