Returning to the town of Brenthas, the party (consisting of Geurk the dwarf, Osbourne the halfling paladin, Eledhwen the beautiful elven ranger, and Quarrion, the elven wizard) returned to the town, and broke apart to deal with their own projects.
Eledhwen, the ranger, carried a clutch of owlbear eggs to the druid’s hut at the edge of town. The druid, an elderly man who enjoyed farming herbs and plants on the edge of town near his hut, was glad for the company. He took the eggs, promising to raise the owlbears and train them to be fearsome defenders, and gave the female ranger what he could.
Quarrion, the elven wizard, sought out other wizards in the area, asking at the tavern if anyone knew of a local wizard. A few of the locals, much to Quarrion’s surprise, snickered at his question, and then suggested that he should find the wizard Gerzack, the local mage. Quarrion wandered outside, asking directions again, and again received the same sniggering answers. Quarrion was completely mystified by this, and proceeded to the house he was directed to, a small hut built against the base of a plain tower. A knock at the door was answered by a plain looking woman, who happily smiled and invited Quarrion inside. She seemed to know something of Gerzack, and she suggested that Quarrion visit him in the small tower. She showed him the way into the tower through the hut, but also explained that the tower had a small door that could be used as an entrance. She seemed reluctant to enter the tower herself, but allowed Quarrion to enter the tower, finding it a clutter of papers, books, tomes, scrolls, maps, and globes. Wandering around these stacks of papers and books, he found nothing but an owl, chewing on the remains of a rat. Suddenly, one of the piles of papers snorted and sat up, displacing the papers that had been lying on his chest. He blinked, staring at Quarrion, and without asking why he was there, smiled and held out his hand to shake. “Hello there, youg elf. I don’t believe that I’ve met you before,” he said, warmly shaking the Quarrion’s hand, “My name is Gerzack.” Looking at the young wizard, he noticed the robe and spellbook of a recent graduate, and patted the fragile elf on the back, congratulating him on his graduation.
They spoke for several minutes, Gerzak even presented the young elf with a spellbook containing more advanced spells, and then suddenly Gerzack blinked and looked away. After a few seconds of silence, the mage looked at Quarrion and said “Hello there, youg elf. I don’t believe that I’ve met you before,” he said, warmly shaking the Quarrion’s hand again, “My name is Gerzack.”
Quarrion, uncertain of what to make of this development, quietly had the conversation with Gerzack a second time. And a third. Suddenly, the snickering and laughing made more sense, as did the happiness of the wife in seeing wizards visit her husband again. Politely he excused himself, and rejoined his companions.
Geurk busied himself at the Adventurer’s Guild, using a small bit of stone to carve a likeness of an owlbear. When he was finished, a few of the older adventurers commented on how well-done the likeness was, and Geurk heard them sending another group of new adventurers off on a fools errand in search of the Lost Tomb of Agrinor. Shaking his head, Geurk left the adventurer’s guild in search of his friends. What he found was an excited crowd of people gathered in front of the tavern, shouting and waving their hands. When he approached the crowd, he found out what his friend Osbourne had been up to.
Entering the town, Osbourne stopped to watch the local constabulary train and participate in mock battles with each other. Several of the guardsmen noticed him watching, and mocked both his small stature and the fact that he carried a very large blade. Indignant, he bristled at their insults, and was only satisfied once the largest had challenged him to a bloodless duel. Word of this duel spread, and inside several minutes the entire town was ablaze with the news of it, with shady characters taking bets on the outcome of the fight.
The fight was interesting, with a crowd containing every man, woman, and child in town gathered to see it, including the local Baron. The fight was drawn out between the two, with the halfling favoring a much more brutal style based on strength, and the human fighter relying on his skills to keep the halfling’s blade away from him. The much stronger halfling, although winning, won by a matter of inches, not only earning the respect of every warrior in town, but also learning to respect those same guardsmen. There was much drinking and celebrating that night.