Chapter 1 (Arc B): Drunken Ramblings

You find yourselves standing outside a dingy looking tavern with a sign proclaiming itself "The Splattered Scroll". While there aren't a ton of people inside, the business is steady. Several people are visible through the propped open door, and the woman behind the bar looks like she's broken up her fair share of physical altercations over the years.

As you get closer, the light greenish tinge to her skin and set of her jaw reveal that she's a half-orc. She looks at you with a mixture of aggression and repulsion.

Olidammara's left nut to you, duskskin. You've asked one, make it quick with the others. she says, exasperation plain in her voice.

The half-orc glowers at you both, her eyes hard. Lots o' folks come in here blabbering. As for unkept robe wearin' fools, we get our fair share. We aren't too far from the University. she quipped, as if that was enough of an explanation for the look and cut of most of her patrons. Now, if you aren't drinkin', you're wastin' my time. OY! KNOCK IT OFF OVER THERE DWABIN! she finishes, the last bit rising up as she looks over your shoulder to scold a tipsy looking dwarf that is trying to climb up onto his table.

As you look around the room, you see a handful of tables that would likely be willing to talk. As the bartender alluded to, there are several tables with what appear to be students from the university bent over stacks of books and scrolls, edges held down with tankards. A few dwarves sit talking to one another by the fireplace. On one side, near the door, a lone elf sits staring forlornly into a small cup.

A door at the far side swings open, and you hear the boisterous sounds of a party carrying on beyond it.

The elf looks over at you, his eyes red.

Everything is wrong. My application for admittance to the university was rejected. he says, chest hitching.

Those backwards fools. They are scared that my proposed course of study would cause the 'destruction of the good morale fiber of society" or something like that. They just can't see the benefits!

One of the students perks up at the mention of C'thalet, the others are fixated steadily on the flashing gold coin.

Oy, right, so C'thalet is this historic wizard. One o' them lesser mages from the mage war, ya know. Supposedly invented all kinds of neat magic things. Even made up a spell or two! the first student says. The others take a hefty drink from their steins.

One of them, a half-elf, sets his mug down and looks at Shannout steadily. That's not a name you should be tossing around, ways I hear it. Vile being, more evil than all the Mage Lords combined.

The three students look to themselves, smiling. Well, I've got a spellbook with me. I can show you the one that C'thalet invented. he said.

The other slapped his hand. No you don't, you liar! Those spells were all outlawed! he looks back to Shannout. He's a bit of a moron, I wouldn't trust his information at all. No, what you need to do is spend a few nights in a deep meditation. You'll see that I'm right.

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The study of form and figure! Sure, it required some cunning necromancy, but show me a good healer that hasn't studied the necromantic arts, huh?