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Rollfar's "Thirty dozen dragons" = 30 x 12 x 10 = 3600 gp. Apparently there's a Fallonese publisher who failed a Will save against the power Attraction and at least 1000 idiots willing to pay through the nose for Barry Lakeward novels (including old favourites 'Raw Daybreak: The Tale of a Hero...

Rollfar comes to a decision. "Anyway, and you don't deserve this, and I don't know why I bothered, but this is yours. Well, most of it." She rummages in her backpack and produces a bulging coin purse. "Thirty dozen dragons. No small amount." "What's this?" asks Keldar. "I can't take your...

And a few minutes later, Rollfar Lightpurse storms back in, this time carrying an adventurer's pack, complete with weapons strapped to its sides, which she plunks down on Keldar's table. "I'm not finished, Keldar," she says. "I sold nearly everything I own, I even sold Spelding Row! I bought a...

The tavern door slams open and a halfling woman bursts in in a flurry of red skirts. She's tall for a halfling, though slightly plump, but the main impression she gives is of extreme irritation. "Keldar!" she snaps, pointing at the human standing at the bar toying with his wine goblet. He leaps...

There is a 50 mile scale marker in the bottom left of the map. At this scale, I think a small island, even 5 to 10 miles across at widest, would hardly show up. There are unmarked islands in Lake Kithsul, for sure. If an island were not near Orussus or the Vastermarch cities, then I'd say it...

OOG: I'm happy to act as judge.

"It's just something I do off the top of my head," says Keldar with a shrug. "I'll tell Tarag you were asking after him. Wait! Tarag, that's it. Not Turnip."

"It's on the tip of my tongue," says Keldar. "Target, Tragic, Taradiddle, Turnip... oh, what is it? Ah, I know what I can do." With a snap of his fingers and a muttered word, Keldar is gone. In his place stands a shorter, broader figure, a dwarf with blond beard cropped short, his...

Keldar squeezes back against the bar to give Edwyd more room. "The pie! Galwynn, that fool. I had forgotten," he says to himself. A wry sad smile twists his face. His gaze flicks to the door to take in Petra, but he pays her little heed. His eyes drift out of focus momentarily. Then he...

The previous speaker stands poised with his mouth open while Kaleva promotes his business, then jumps in. "Keldar Warb- that is, Keldarion. The Golden. My acquaintance is, oh, not an important person at all. He spends all his time... what is the expression? Carrying out forgery? He doesn't...

"You're not the first follower of the forge god I've known," says a human in golden clothing standing nearby nursing an almost full glass of wine. "My acquaintance is quite the piece of work, of Chennet's hands or anywhere else."

"Galwynn makes it look easy," Keldarion sighs, and wanders over to Joe at the bar. "My usual," he says, and when Joe looks blank adds, "Saltwater wine, the way the merfolk make it. Oh, just add a few spoonfuls to one of the... less good vintages." Joe shakes his head dubiously, but complies...

"That's just what I said," says Keldarion equably.

"Artur," says Keldarion, "you must promise not to take advantage of this man. For you see, if he had first thrown poorly and only then suggested playing for money, then he would most likely be a shyster intending to empty your purse. But as he has offered after putting a dart right in the...

"Offering to wager for pennies now? Keldarion is disappointed," says the man in gold.

The door opens a crack and a lithe young man dances backwards through it on nimble feet, laughing and waving out into the square. "Ha ha! To the public baths with you, Galwynn, though I doubt they'll let you in again! I'll have your problem with the new spells sorted out soon, Atomerasu! Hey...

"They call me Cay Riggle," the man introduces himself. "I am not as light on my toes as some and cannot use a shield. I have a fine shirt, mithral as you see, but it is not magic. Can you make it so? I know something of the art of putting something of oneself into a thing. Perhaps I could...

Phew, glad that's been sorted out. Logic is restored! Now, the other day my pixie rogue shot an arrow into an elder black pudding, and you'll never guess what happened :p

A shaggy headed human comes into the Forge. He lets his heavy cloak fall open to show a mithral shirt beneath. "Is there one here who has the skill to bind magic to metal?" he asks.

"Can find most things back here if I search hard enough," says Joe. He reaches beneath the bar without actually looking. "Darts set," he pronounces and at once brings out a small hinged box. "Darts make my ribs ache, especially when it's kobolds throwing them," Cay Riggle comments. "With...