Winterhaven and Beyond

"Valthrun the Prescient," Angus replied, running his hand through his hair. "I think. He's been living out in this area for a few decades now, though I can't be sure that he was in Winterhaven."

"Well, should we go in and see him?" Geldon asked. "I've never been in a wizard's tower before."

Azareth pursed his lips. "I don't know. What do you think, Angus? I know wizards can be a finicky bunch."

"Mostly the ones who live alone. From everything I've heard about Valthrun, he's a pretty friendly guy. Let's knock and see what happens."

Geldon, who was closest to the tower's door, reached up with a fist and banged on the door. "Anybody home?"

Moments passed without a sound. Just as Angus was about to say that they should move on, they heard footsteps and then the door creaked open. A slightly wrinkled old man peered out at them from the darkness behind the door. "Can I help you?"

"Hello, sir. We're new to town, looking for a friend of our, Douvan Stahl?"

"Douvan? How do you know Douvan?"

"We're all friends with him from a variety of ways. He traveled through each of our villages when he was younger, and we became friends with him. We're here on travels of our own, and we heard that he was in Winterhaven. Do you know where he might be?"

"Douvan is studying the Shadowfell Keep. I'm sure he's up there. Why don't you go wait for him at the tavern? I'm sure he'll be there shortly." Valthrun began to swing the door shut. Angus reached a hand out to stop him.

"As a fellow wizard, I was hoping that we might have an opportunity to speak, perhaps share spells and scrolls?"

"Perhaps," Valthrun replied. "When I know you better. Until then, good luck finding Douvan."

The door closed in their faces. "Perhaps it is time to go elsewhere?" Bergeron asked, eyes sparkling and tongue flicking between his teeth in the dragon-born version of a smile. "I for one would like to pay my tribute to the local Gods."

"That's a great idea," Azareth said.

At the temple they met one of the Priestesses, who told them that Sister Linora was out in the surrounding area. As the sun started to go down, they made their way over to the tavern. Inside, they were greeted warmly by Salvana, who seated them against the back wall. On the way in, they noticed an elven woman sitting alone in the corner. "I'm going to talk to her," Azareth said. "It's not often that you see an elf in these parts."

He diverted to her table. "Greetings, sister. May I join you?"

She looked up, eyes dark and piercing. "No."

Azareth was flabbergasted. "Well, can at least offer you a drink?"

"Only if I can remove your bowels with a rusty dagger. Go away."

"I don't appreciate being spoken to that way!" Azareth yelled, drawing stares from the rest of the bar. Bergeron stood up behind him. "I am a cleric of Bahamut, and a member of the River Elves! I..."

"You're a half-elven bastard, unwanted by either race and despised by the Gods. No leave me be."

"I swear, I will not this insolence," Azareth muttered. "I'm going to cast Sacred Flame on your..." He was yanked backwards by Bergeron, who plopped him in a chair. "Are you kidding?" he asked.

"Sorry," Azareth said, sheepish. "You don't know what an insult she just paid me."

"Nor do I care," Bergeron replied. "Stay here and shut up."

Azareth opened his mouth to reply when a large man in an oversized hat and a fur coat bounced into the tavern.

"Hello everyone! How is everyone tonight?"

"Good, my Lord, how are you?" Silvana replied for the tavern-goers.

"That must be Lord Padraig," Angus whispered. "I'm going to invite him over and buy him a drink." He raised his hand. "My Lord! Come over and join us. Drinks are on me."

"I never say no to free drinks!" Padraig replied. He lumbered over to the table and flopped his bulk into a chair. "How can I help you gentlemen?"

"We're visitors to your town. Heard that you might be looking for some help?"

"Oh, ya'll are the folks who stopped by the manor earlier today? Great, great, I was hoping I'd run into you. Heard you took care of a bit of a kobold problem on your way here. Much obliged. Been trying to rid the world of them little critters since I got here. Only problem is these blasted farmers won't form up and wipe them out." He took a sip of his beer. "Don't know where all of them keep coming from. I take an expedition out when I can put one together, wipe 'em out, and the next year they're back again, like nothing happened. Don't know that I've ever seen a kobold female. I've got a theory that they spend all their time either in labor or pregnant. Little bastards."

"They've been getting more aggressive, I hear," Azareth said, leaning forward.

"That's the rumor. I haven't seen any direct evidence. If you're looking for a job, though, the kobolds are down to the south east, typically. They've got a lair down there somewhere." He sniffed. "I'll give you ten gold pieces for 5 kobold heads. Deal?"

"Done."

"Good. Come find me when you've got them." He shifted his bulk out of the chair. "Good evening gentlemen."

They continued drinking in silence. The elf in the corner stood up and left, shouldering her way past Atoll, who was just getting off duty. "What a day. What a boring day!" Atoll said. "I need an ale, Slivana."

Azareth looked around. "If he's off duty, that means the gates are closed. Where's Douvan?"

Angus stood up and went over to the bar. "Did Douvan come in?"

"Umm, no, I don't think he did. Weird. He's only ever not come in once, and he let me know in advance." He sniffed. "He probably just forgot and is staying up at the keep tonight."

"I don't like this," Geldon said, back at the table. "We need to go looking for him."

"We can't do that. We won't get back, and we don't know exactly where they keep is. We need to stay here tonight."

The next morning they woke up, left, and headed out to the keep. They got attacked by some kobolds, kicked their asses, and then the Dungeon Master got tired and went to bed.