Spirits were low as we fled Lord Angar’s castle. The sewer came out at the ocean. A few of us took the opportunity to wash off in the (relatively much) cleaner water, while bickering over what next grew.
I’m reasonably certain that Lord Angar didn’t know who I am, but I’m regrettably recognizable. I’d like to blame my good looks, but… anyway! The town (still unnamed) containing my store is under his auspices, and it’s starting to look like I won’t even have the chance to go back and have a liquidation sale.
Ah well. I’ve always had “other” means of finding income.
Some of which came into play today! Eventually we agreed to deliver the money from the hay back to the farming town (after reports came in that the Keep was apparently burning! I really don’t want to be around to get that blamed on me, too). When we got there, the town hag informed us that she wanted the full 3000 GP promised.
I don’t see why they’d need that much money, as the village seemed self-sufficient, but eh, whatever. It was time to take my starring role! For my share of the money, I went to the local playhouse and put my talents on display.
Okay, so my singing didn’t go over too well. The crowd enjoyed my rendition of the Lay of Lothingriel-Iggy-Iggy, but it was my acrobatic display (much like before, at the Keep) that won everyone over.
And that’s the story of how I raised half the money wanting.
What, the others? Okay, the warlock — creepy fellow — just watched me. I carried his weight. The paladin and the dwarven cleric went healing, the paladin the ill (for money), and the dwarf the paladin (for he’d caught a sickness from the others). The other halfling spoke to a shady fellow and apparently tried to gamble her way to wealth, but didn’t have enough coin for the minimum bid. The wizard–
Right, hold up. We didn’t just directly appear at the town. We spent a few nights in the woods, and a few of us engaged in horseplay happened to get singed by the fire. The wizard, spry tho elderly, managed to burn off all his robes, leaving his modesty protected by a beard. Anyway–
The wizard talked to the butcher (hopefully after getting clothes) and found out about a stray cow. He and the halfling ventured into the forest, where they came back with the cow and several bison. They too made a lot of money, blah blah blah, this doesn’t directly concern me except that with their help we paid the woman and secured our temporary freedom.
Flush with success and lack of incarceration, we asked a guard for information in a totally non-violent manner, and were informed of the City further down the road. Next stop: historians!