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<blockquote data-quote="GruTheWanderer" data-source="post: 755786" data-attributes="member: 3119">No clues about the crystal staff are found by searching the hobgoblins, nor do the survivors have much to say when they awake.&nbsp; They claim they were ordered to search the road at night and find a blue crystal staff.&nbsp; They had a few steel in their belt pouches, which Tasslehoff kindly liberates.Puzzling over the mystery of the staff, the friends move through the trees of Solace to the eastern shores of Crystalmir Lake.&nbsp; The autumn sky has grown dark, and the deep stillness of the lake is felt rather than seen.&nbsp; You know that soft forests border the serene waters on the eastern, southern, and western shores.&nbsp; To the north, a patchwork of fields stretches toward the distant mountains.Suddenly, soft music begins.&nbsp; Its source is a slim, beautiful girl near a small campfire.&nbsp; Lyre in hand, she sits gracefully as she plays; nearby, a large plainsman raises a flute to his lips.The girl's eyes are a blue; her skin is a buttery tan.&nbsp; Most striking of all is the flowing white gold of her hair.&nbsp; Plush white furs trim her woven cape.&nbsp; A single feather folds back long the right side of her head.Her voice clear as winter air, she begins to sing...</blockquote>

[QUOTE="GruTheWanderer, post: 755786, member: 3119"] No clues about the crystal staff are found by searching the hobgoblins, nor do the survivors have much to say when they awake. They claim they were ordered to search the road at night and find a blue crystal staff. They had a few steel in their belt pouches, which Tasslehoff kindly liberates. Puzzling over the mystery of the staff, the friends move through the trees of Solace to the eastern shores of Crystalmir Lake. The autumn sky has grown dark, and the deep stillness of the lake is felt rather than seen. You know that soft forests border the serene waters on the eastern, southern, and western shores. To the north, a patchwork of fields stretches toward the distant mountains. Suddenly, soft music begins. Its source is a slim, beautiful girl near a small campfire. Lyre in hand, she sits gracefully as she plays; nearby, a large plainsman raises a flute to his lips. The girl's eyes are a blue; her skin is a buttery tan. Most striking of all is the flowing white gold of her hair. Plush white furs trim her woven cape. A single feather folds back long the right side of her head. Her voice clear as winter air, she begins to sing... [/QUOTE]

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