Knightfall
World of Kulan DM
The burned section of the Market District was mostly likely the work of some disgruntled arsonist trying to get back at the rulers of the city. Instead, all he, she, or it did was hurt those suffering with less. The southern edge of the district sits on the edge of the Canal District, and, indeed, the fire consumed parts of that district as well. The ramshackle building sits across from the home of Lady Garga -- a known fortune teller for the bold (and foolish). While Shrough hadn't been in the city long, he had arrived in Bard's Gate only days after the fire.
The aftermath had been brutal. Many died that night or so he was told by the owner of The Last Stop -- a funeral parlor that sits on the northern side of the street known as Merchant's Circus, near the Canal Bridge. Queltin was one of the first of the city's citizens that Shrough befriended. As much as an elf can befriend a short-lived human, let alone one surrounded by death.
If Ozolinsh was in Bard's Gate, he was in hiding. The Market Watch hadn't seen anyone matching his description. The Market District's dedicated guards were a helpful bunch who didn't seem concerned with race, gender, or affiliation. As long a newcomer could pay his way, they were welcome in district. The Lyreguard have been less helpful in Shrough's search for the treasure hunter. In fact, they had warned him not to hassle any merchants dealing in magical goods. His questions had already gotten him banned from Xacanthia's Magical Transcriptions.
The mask is a elvish treasure that could be dangerous in the hands of any other races. Shrough must get it back. Failure is not an option.
Meghan couldn't tell Shrough anything about the note after she gave it to him. She had found it in her pocket a day ago with instruction to find Shrough and deliver it in person. She had behaved oddly about it. It was almost like she was under some sort of magical compulsion, but Shrough hadn't detected an aura around her. The half-elf harlot disappeared back into the Canal District. She didn't know of this Wilie, but she had heard of a halfling by that name who works as a toll-taker in the Grand Plaza.
It is nearly dusk when Shrough arrives in the plaza. The nightlife is still in full swing. Bard's Gate rarely sleeps and its never truly quiet in the Market District. Night hawkers start selling cheap goods to the tipsy and naive. Trollops and young nobles crawl from one tavern to another. The Felled Ogre was in full revel already. Bards and lesser musicians dueled outside its doors. Locals danced in the street and coins flowed out of peoples pockets into the eager hands of tavern-owners and the occasional sneak-thief.
The Market Watch were good people but a bit overwhelmed on the warmest nights. If things got truly out of hand, Shrough had already learned that the watch 'whistle for the Lyreguard'. These tough guardians can even handle unruly spellcasters.
Shrough quickly finds his way to Market Bridge. Once he had the bridge in sight, he remembered the halfling who stood on his soapbox and greeted newcomers to the city. Shrough had failed to hear the halfling's name over the noise of the plaza. It had been very loud that day. A festival of some kind. The halfling had seemed nice enough. Could he be this Wilie fellow?
Shrough came upon an unusual scene. The halfling was there. He was more excited than normal. There were two obvious adventurers standing in front of Wilie. They looked like they could handle themselves if a fight broke out. What was unusual was that one was a tiefling while the other was one of his kind. Another gray elf! Here in Bard's Gate! What were the chances?
"Hey there friend," the halfling notices Shrough and calls him over. "You're not going to believe it. There here! Hmm, I can't remember if I told you last week or not. I got this cryptic note that told me eight heroes were coming to see me. That all has been arranged for the wealth that is supposed to be waiting for them. And here two of them are! What a great day this is turning out to be!"
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