The Northlook was Bryn Shander's closest approximation of Easthaven. And though its clientele consisted of ruffians of some caliber, it still fell short of the bestial atmosphere Brasn fostered. Here, the people were more subdued. Scramsax, the proprietor, certainly heard talks of things typically kept from proprietors' ears, but seldom did anything illegal actually go down within the establishment's walls. The people here held Scramsax in high regard, that much was clear.

Music was a rare occasion in the Northlook. Typically, bards and minstrels preferred to play in Kelvin's Comfort or the Hooked Knucklehead, where the patrons were more numerous and pockets deeper. So Torgrim was welcomed to offer up his lute by Scramsax. He would, however, have to earn the approval of the patronage.

And earn it he did. As the day crept on and evening set, as moods were lifted and ale became fast flowing, Torgrim found himself with quite a yield. His particular style of play, born from familiarity, intuition, or a bit of both, complimented the hardened crowd perfectly. And not only did he draw the attention of the living patronage, but the dead as well. One somber looking fellow with a slack jaw and dull expression stood in the corner, invisible to all but Torgrim, and listened intently to the music. But when hell momentarily broke loose — for it inevitably did — the ghost was gone. The large and bulky Scramsax had walked on over to a belligerent drunkard to heft him up by his collar, drag him through the crowd, and toss him headlong out to the streets. Not only had the offender threatened the other patrons, he had made his intention to not pay for his drinks crystal clear to Scramsax. Then, while on the ground, he was ransacked for what he owed and left out in the cold to be on with his night.

Torgrim was eventually offered a drink by one of the tables. A group of brigands who let it slip they'd been robbing travelers between here and Easthaven set to talking about tales both tall and small.

"I'm tellin' ya! Ship! Frozen ashore a few miles from here!" He leveled a finger at his companions, steadying his speech. "The Dark Duchess. As long as this winter lasts she ain't goin' nowhere. And let me say," he said as he leaned in closer and lowered his voice, "if she ain't full of treasure, I'm a monkey's uncle . . . it's just a matter of who pounces on her first!" In his efforts to persuade his drinking pals, he seemed to forget to keep his voice down. The ending was even emphasized by his prominent fist against the table.

"That evil wizard?" a lanky man with a mouthful of chewing tobacco had begun. "When I was in Easthaven a couple o' days ago, he burned at the stake, and the townsfolk warmed their hands at the spectacle. I don't know what the authorities around here are playing at, wanting to take credit for his apprehension. Hired some adventurer's to search for a tower, word has it. Now, no-one knows, but I know—". The individual stopped himself from elaborating and turned away to draw some more tobacco from his pocket, laughing sheepishly to dissuade any ears he'd earned.

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Torgrim's Performance (Instrument) [24]: Torgrim earns himself 5 gold, 49 silver, and 12 copper for the night. And some free drinks.

Torgrim's Investigation [12]: Torgrim earns himself some loose information on the criminal activities in the Ten Towns, and two rumors.

1. A pirate ship that lies frozen to the coast a few miles north-west of Bremen.
   
2. Half-baked intel on the Red Wizard's actual fate. Roll a Persuasion/Intimidation/Deception to press for more information.

This message was last edited by the GM at 14:10, Fri 22 Mar.

~Now that sounds more like the Easthaven farewell I remember~ Torgrim thought to himself upon hearing the supposed end of Dzaan one's story.

As the evening grew longer Torgrim used his natural charm to buddy up with all "the right people" at the tavern, which to every upstanding member of society were known as "the wrong people".

Persuasion: 27 using 1d20+9 ((18))

"What say you men?" the brigand who had spoken of the Duchess said. "Be thee brave enough? You," he continued as he wrapped an arm around Torgrim's shoulder and tightened his grip. The man was large and burly, and clearly used to being able to bully others physically. "You seem like someone with some sense in yer noggin'. These fellers around here might be too scared of the cold, or of Draaagons~," he whimpered theatrically, as if the very notion itself was ludicrous, "be WE," he pulled Torgrim tighter, "know better, don't we? We leave tomorrow at dawn and return so rich the highborn in Waterdeep would weep!"

"Want to hear a trick?" the man who had been to Easthaven, the rather lanky individual, said to Torgrim. "Whatever he says, do the opposite. That way you'll always come out on top. There's a reason he's taken to robbing merchants by the roadside . . ."

It was then that Khulekani entered. The men currently engaged in conversation with Torgrim had stayed in town for a bit and noticed her — most of the townsfolk had — and spared her little regard. For after all, do-gooders and brigands rarely got along.

"Shut yer mouth," the man said sternly and nodded subtly in the direction of the Knight. "Watch who hears."

Be it from intoxication or disrespect, the lanky man leaned in closer to the center of the table, tossing the tobacco around in his mouth as he kept on. "If we're looking for a real opportunity and not some horseshit sowed for idiots to entertain, it's the tower we should go for . . . that Wizard I spoke of was after it, and he didn't seem like to type to bother himself with trifles. The Geese too, I've heard. This thing is big. A few miles eastward."

Scramsax was quick to nod in their direction when prompted by Khulekani for any individuals who might know anything of the Red Wizard. The lanky man had spoken rather openly of him, after all. And while Scramsax didn't make it his business to concern himself with the affairs of his patrons, neither was he inclined to stand in the way of justice. And Khulekani, if anyone, was justice.

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Give me an Intimidation/Persuasion, Khulekani?

And an Investigation to account for the day leading up to that point.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:16, Fri 22 Mar.

Khulekani's investigations had yielded little result. Not many knew of any Red Wizards in the area, and those who did knew exactly as much as the authorities here or less. It was a frustrating search, with little leads.

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Khulekani's Investigation on the Red Wizard's antics prior to his death [4]: Khulekani unearths no new information.

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But something else did go right. Something surprising. Earlier that day, Isiliva, daughter of the stars, had sung. Selûne hung above, bathing the streets of Bryn Shander in bright, milky light, and beyond, the rest of the Sea of Night slumbered. The soft lights of streetlamps and windows, however, dimmed her stars. It was not as drastic as in the larger cities, so some constellations could still be made out — Mystra's Star Circle, with the Sleepless Knights marching up with the onset of winter. Opposite, the Centaur could be seen steadily drifting away with summer, where his eternal opponent, the Woman Warrior, had already gone. High above, the Firbolg kept watchful gaze of the valleys.

And halfway between the Firbolg and Mystra's Star Circle, one lone star twinkled briefly, calling out to her lost fragment. The starforged steel conveyed the message to its bearer — 'find me where my voice may reach, and I will grant you guidance'.

---

With steady steps, Khulekani made her way through the toughest crowd Bryn Shander could muster. Which wasn't much really, as most of the people here looked mostly like ordinary folk.

She sat down beside Torgrim, trying to don a disarming attitude. A difficult task for a knight embellished in the outfit of her holy order, and all she received in response were some sullen stares. Getting a drink for herself might have helped.

"Look . . ." one of the brigands began . . .

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Khulekani's Persuasion to press the brigands for information [11]: While these individuals wouldn't typically be inclined to indulge Khulekani's inquisition, she does get them to tell of the Red Wizard and the spires location, which lies east of Lac Dinneshere. Furthermore, while in Easthaven, he had been seen with an older woman bearing a weasel for a Familiar, and been privy to talks of Chardalyn, a black mineral, and its increased value on the market. Certain Dwarves had been gotten a penchant for the stones, to the point where anyone possessing even tiny motes could sell for hundreds of gold. Certain merchants in the area had gotten their hand on some, and word was beginning to spread.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:17, Fri 22 Mar.