Prologue: How I Came to Know Them
There was once a man of notable intellect and talent, and you dear reader, are fortunate enough to have found one of his many masterpieces. Perhaps you should take a moment and reflect on your good fortune, my friend! Take your time, this book will still be here when you are finished.
All set? Very good, let us continue!
I began my journey in the town of Neverwinter, over a glass of merlot in a place called The Driftwood Tavern. I had been admiring the fine architecture and fine collection of art, you see, as this Inn also serves as something of a museum. The drinks a bit overpriced, yes, but it was a fabulous opportunity to hear the latest gossip.
I had overheard the tale of a common man, a laborer, who had taken up a life of heroism and joined an adventuring party in order to earn the gold needed to buy himself a farm. "What a fool", I thought to myself. "There are so many more civilized ways to make coin!". I paid no mind, and went about my business.
Something about this common man's tale, this "Peter Shovelslinger", seemed to resonate with me. I did not understand why at the time. It was distracting enough that my performance the next evening, while receiving a standing ovation, felt devoid of any meaning or purpose. Even as I lauded with praise and tribute, it remained as empty as the many goblets of wine later consumed that evening.
The next morning, I was delivered the Neverwinter Gazette when I saw the headline that changed my life. "Tell No Tales Slays Cryovain the Merciless". I began reading through the roster of this "Tell No Tales", a bunch of nobodies they were! But one name was familiar, "Peter Shovelslinger", the same man I had learned about just a few nights ago. These people, these... previously unknown agents of justice, they were able to slay a dragon! Could it be possible, with a wit and intellect tempered by life threatening challenges, to slay even greater beasts? Or to perhaps... even outwit a fiend or a fey? My imagination ran wild! I quickly finished by coffee, and began preperations to departe for this "Phandalin", to see if I could... make a deal with this Mr. Shovelslinger.
I gathered my most loyal associates, my tailor and lifelong friend, Bilben Stichensew, my promising squire, Branfield Blackbrand, and my loyal messenger, Crelista. Together, we secured a ride to Phandalin through way of a horse drawn carriage traveling along the Triboar Trail. Our journey took three days. Branfield was excited, the impetuous young opportunist he is, at the prospect of fame and fortune. Bilben lectured me most of the way, claiming I was "suicidal" and "had a deathwish" and so forth. Crelista was rather indifferent, as she often is, but seemed to enjoy the ride well enough.
When we arrived, Tell No Tales were already celebrating their victory over the dragon Cryovein! Did you read Peter's log at the beginning of the book? If not, you should experience this tale the way I did! The words of the "fighting farmer" himself. Peter Shovelslinger was more than a simple farmer, my friends. He truly loved his home, and while I could not say the live of a rural farmer is for me, I can say that Peter's love of home soon brought me a wonderful opportunity.
You see, Peter was something of a businessman himself. He and his wife, a fierce yet quite lovely woman, had taken Peter's earnings as an adventurer and invested them in their farmstead. Peter's farm was impressive, serving the town of Phandalin well, and creating jobs for the townsfolk. They even employed, with great efficacy, a few neighboring goblins to forage for valuable resources. What a genius! I could not wait to make a deal with this man.
But then, after hearing his story, I knew we had even more to discuss. The agreement we arrived on was simple. I gave him the money he needed to pay off his farm. Peter would allow me to have the publishing rights to his story, as well as the text from two months of his personal log. I would also enjoy a fair percentage of the profits from Shovelslinger Farms as well, as it's first shareholder.
Not long after I had established a business interest in town, a courier showed up looking for "The Party". Bah! "The Party" indeed! If you are unfamiliar, good reader, this band of pillagers known as "The Party" plundered the lands of Chult quite efficiently, but their hubris brought the wrath of an archlich down upon the fair city of Port Nyanzaru. They commonly provoke the gods and are known to tamper with forces beyond their comprehension. How the fools were able to end the Death Curse and destroy the Soul Monger is beyond me!
As I informed the messenger that The Party had not been in Phandalin for some time, it seemed my knowledge of The Party's activities was of particular interest to the people; and especially Debeid Hannah! Once she heard, she departed immediately in pursuit of her brother, and Warlock of The Party, Heu Jhazman! She seems quite convinced Heu killed their father, but I believe it was their family's involvement with the Graydance that got him killed! I digress, I hope the two of them sort out their familial issues.
The messenger surrendered the message to Peter who, as a member of the town council and associate of The Party, believed it must be something important.
[Insert Lirea's Vision Hook]
Peter and Sahar both decided to remain in Phandalin to ensure it's defence and tend to the farm. In their stead, I kindly offered to accompany Tivran and Lirea, as we embarked to Bryn Shander at once!
All set? Very good, let us continue!
I began my journey in the town of Neverwinter, over a glass of merlot in a place called The Driftwood Tavern. I had been admiring the fine architecture and fine collection of art, you see, as this Inn also serves as something of a museum. The drinks a bit overpriced, yes, but it was a fabulous opportunity to hear the latest gossip.
I had overheard the tale of a common man, a laborer, who had taken up a life of heroism and joined an adventuring party in order to earn the gold needed to buy himself a farm. "What a fool", I thought to myself. "There are so many more civilized ways to make coin!". I paid no mind, and went about my business.
Something about this common man's tale, this "Peter Shovelslinger", seemed to resonate with me. I did not understand why at the time. It was distracting enough that my performance the next evening, while receiving a standing ovation, felt devoid of any meaning or purpose. Even as I lauded with praise and tribute, it remained as empty as the many goblets of wine later consumed that evening.
The next morning, I was delivered the Neverwinter Gazette when I saw the headline that changed my life. "Tell No Tales Slays Cryovain the Merciless". I began reading through the roster of this "Tell No Tales", a bunch of nobodies they were! But one name was familiar, "Peter Shovelslinger", the same man I had learned about just a few nights ago. These people, these... previously unknown agents of justice, they were able to slay a dragon! Could it be possible, with a wit and intellect tempered by life threatening challenges, to slay even greater beasts? Or to perhaps... even outwit a fiend or a fey? My imagination ran wild! I quickly finished by coffee, and began preperations to departe for this "Phandalin", to see if I could... make a deal with this Mr. Shovelslinger.
I gathered my most loyal associates, my tailor and lifelong friend, Bilben Stichensew, my promising squire, Branfield Blackbrand, and my loyal messenger, Crelista. Together, we secured a ride to Phandalin through way of a horse drawn carriage traveling along the Triboar Trail. Our journey took three days. Branfield was excited, the impetuous young opportunist he is, at the prospect of fame and fortune. Bilben lectured me most of the way, claiming I was "suicidal" and "had a deathwish" and so forth. Crelista was rather indifferent, as she often is, but seemed to enjoy the ride well enough.
When we arrived, Tell No Tales were already celebrating their victory over the dragon Cryovein! Did you read Peter's log at the beginning of the book? If not, you should experience this tale the way I did! The words of the "fighting farmer" himself. Peter Shovelslinger was more than a simple farmer, my friends. He truly loved his home, and while I could not say the live of a rural farmer is for me, I can say that Peter's love of home soon brought me a wonderful opportunity.
You see, Peter was something of a businessman himself. He and his wife, a fierce yet quite lovely woman, had taken Peter's earnings as an adventurer and invested them in their farmstead. Peter's farm was impressive, serving the town of Phandalin well, and creating jobs for the townsfolk. They even employed, with great efficacy, a few neighboring goblins to forage for valuable resources. What a genius! I could not wait to make a deal with this man.
But then, after hearing his story, I knew we had even more to discuss. The agreement we arrived on was simple. I gave him the money he needed to pay off his farm. Peter would allow me to have the publishing rights to his story, as well as the text from two months of his personal log. I would also enjoy a fair percentage of the profits from Shovelslinger Farms as well, as it's first shareholder.
Not long after I had established a business interest in town, a courier showed up looking for "The Party". Bah! "The Party" indeed! If you are unfamiliar, good reader, this band of pillagers known as "The Party" plundered the lands of Chult quite efficiently, but their hubris brought the wrath of an archlich down upon the fair city of Port Nyanzaru. They commonly provoke the gods and are known to tamper with forces beyond their comprehension. How the fools were able to end the Death Curse and destroy the Soul Monger is beyond me!
As I informed the messenger that The Party had not been in Phandalin for some time, it seemed my knowledge of The Party's activities was of particular interest to the people; and especially Debeid Hannah! Once she heard, she departed immediately in pursuit of her brother, and Warlock of The Party, Heu Jhazman! She seems quite convinced Heu killed their father, but I believe it was their family's involvement with the Graydance that got him killed! I digress, I hope the two of them sort out their familial issues.
The messenger surrendered the message to Peter who, as a member of the town council and associate of The Party, believed it must be something important.
[Insert Rime of the Frost Maiden Hook]
[Insert Lirea's Vision Hook]
Peter and Sahar both decided to remain in Phandalin to ensure it's defence and tend to the farm. In their stead, I kindly offered to accompany Tivran and Lirea, as we embarked to Bryn Shander at once!
