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Enchanted Trinkets Complete--a hardcover book containing over 500 magic items for your D&D games!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Sparky" data-source="post: 1381264" data-attributes="member: 13681">Puffing the old man, wearing one of Yattro's spare robes and wrapped in a blanket comes out, not so much side by side, as trailing in Fendric's enthusiastic wake. He looks better - eyes brighter, step a bit firmer - from a good rest in a dry place. Though, his pale skin doesn't look any healthier. Manderock the Merciless... that was decades ago. So old. His eyes, as they follow Fendric, are tinged with envy, that flashes and vanishes into a more thoughtful expression. An old man's wish. Long years would bring me only long sadness. Long years without her. The tufts on his head wave wildly in the cool morning breeze as he tries to keep up with Pelor's young devotee."Wait! You are the one from Hedrogura?" He stops, puffing, assessing the group at a glance, his gaze is bright, piercing. I've stumbled into something here. He nods a greeting at the assemblage with a grateful smile for Nurthk and Raven."You are in a hurry. I will see you off." He links arms with Fendric, a custom in Hedrogura for those who walk and speak. He leans less heavily than he did last night, though, a few times, he leans on the half-elf's arm. "Hedrogura has been attac--" He breaks off, mouth falling open as Niccolo nudges Alexander closer and the half-elf and the gnome are both in sight. "Niccolo? I do not believe it. Fendric?" He signs himself - a stylized symbol of Pelor. "Where is the Knight? Exantrius!" He looks hopeful, the wild tufts on his head wave slightly. The light in his eyes fails and he looks to the ground, "Fendric... the Temples."Niccolo, it's Oliver. From Caval's Horde. The drunken, dusty, out-of-tune, dried-up, old lutist. Oliver!</blockquote>

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