BAR

The bar before you is well-worn and sturdy, with a polished wooden surface that has obviously seen a lot of use over the years. There is a line of shiny taps rising over the countertop. The sweet-sour scent of fresh poured beer rolls over you like a wave. The elf bard, Korellion, is sitting with his back against the bar, playing discordant notes on his lute as he attempts to adjust the strings.

LOOK AT THE TAPS

The taps are made of polished brass and stand out against the dark wood of the bar. There are four of them, each with a different handle indicating a different type of ale or beer. The first tap is labeled "Bugbear Ale," an ale so strong there was a running joke as to whether it is made by bugbears or made of them. The second tap is labeled "Elven Mead," a sweet mead imported from the deepest elven forests. The third tap is labeled "Dwarven Stout," a dark and rich breakfast stout touted by dwarves as the best way to start the day. The fourth tap is missing its handle…
If you find it, you can input the ID here:

tap

You connect the "Library of Lemuria Lager" handle you found and give it a pull. Nothing comes out, but you do hear a loud *click* and a sliding noise. Looking down you see a panel in the bar has opened, revealing a heavily stained paper document.

TALK TO KORELLION

You walk up to the bard, ready to question him. He scowls at your approach, rolling his eyes in annoyance but facing you nonetheless.

“Still searching for answers, eh wild one? Well, if you happen to find all the gold that was owed to me, let me know. Otherwise, if you don’t mind…”

Korellion waves a hand over the strings of his instrument, and they seem to sparkle with a bit of magic before the bard gives them a strum. Unfortunately, the sound is pleasing to your ears – not that you’d ever admit it.

“Honestly, the audacity of you wilderness types never ceases to amaze me. Weren’t you supposed to be solving this murder? Instead, you’ve allowed more murders to happen! Are you not the ones at fault? Between that silly wizard in that eyesore of an outfit threatening everyone with that glowing red staff of his, and you folks stomping around making wild accusations, I really think it’s high time we called it a night, for everyone’s sake.”

♫ (strum) ♫

In the inn she worked, a dwarf so bold,
A strange tongue she spoke, or so I’m told,
With a dagger sharp, she struck him down,
Claimed his wealth and stole his crown.

The patrons all whispered, who is this maid?
Where did she come from, with her strange way of trade?
But she served them well and with a smile so bright,
They never knew her plans that fateful night.

Now she’s the owner, the mistress of the inn,
Serving up ale with a wicked grin,
But we all know the truth, the story untold,
Of the dwarf barmaid with a heart so cold.

Oh, beware the dwarf with a tongue unknown,
For she’ll claim your riches and your throne,
With a flick of her blade and a devilish grin,
She’ll take what’s yours and leave you thin.

♫ (strum) ♫