CORK BOARD
The cork board is filled with various announcements, notices, and job postings written on parchment and pinned to the board. It’s made of rough wood and looks worn and weathered from years of use. Behind the cork board you notice what appears to be a closet. Nearby, the lute-toting elf is pacing the floor, occasionally strumming a tune.
As you examine the cork board, you notice a wide variety of postings, ranging from requests for adventurers to recover lost belongings to upcoming events in the area. Some of the postings catch your eye, such as a call for the quiet recovery of a misplaced personal item and a notice from a wizard seeking rare components for a powerful spell. A wanted poster grabs your attention as well:
The closet door appears to be made of wood and is set into the wall. Only a few feet tall, it has a simple brass knob, but refuses to open. There isn’t even a lock you could pick. As you turn away in frustration, you think you hear something move inside… hmm, must have been the wind.
You slip closer to the elf, a tall and slender male with long blonde hair neatly pulled back behind his pointed ears. His sharp, angular features catch the lantern light dramatically as he finally notices you and tilts his head questioningly.
“Do you need something?
♫ (strum) ♫
Why would I know anything about what happened? Auberon likely upset the wrong person this time and they poisoned his drink, but I have no idea who it was.
♫ (strum) ♫
Do you think I did it?
To be forthright with you, Auberon owed me a lot of money.
♫ (strum) ♫
I often played here in the past, drawing mass crowds of all sorts to hear my lovely little melodies.
♫ (strum) ♫There’s nothing quite like an elven tune, our heightened senses allow us to pluck the perfect chords right as they’re needed.
♫ (strum) ♫
In the forest’s shady glade,
Where the leaves and branches sway,
I’ll sing a song of debts unpaid,
And the gold that’s yet to come my way.
For I’ve lent my skills and art,
To those who promised coin and more,
But now they lack a beating heart,
And I’m left standing at the door.
So I’ll keep on singing my tune,
Until my purse is filled with gold,
And the sun and moon above me swoon,
For the elf who’s paid what’s owed.
♫ (strum) ♫
I don’t suppose I’ll ever be paid now – which is why I certainly wouldn’t have wanted to kill the man. It’s not as if I needed the gold, of course, but rather more it’s a thing of pride. And here I thought Auberon had invited me to right his past wrong, to pay what was owed. Maybe he had intended to? That is, before being struck down by some oaf with little regard for life.
No, murder is not the way of my kind. Neither is thievery, mind you, and what’s the ultimate heist if not the theft of a life? Yet, I don’t suspect this was the work of a mere thief. Have you by chance asked the beastly brute by the bar? The half-orc? Not a very intelligent creature, one likely to be easily swayed by his emotions, especially considering that Auberon killed his brother on one of his previous adventures. Who knows what little thing it might have taken to send him over the edge.
♫ (strum) ♫
In the end, I care not. It was an undignified death for a dishonorable man. Point your fingers as you wish, but if you dare point them at me I’ll snap you like a lute chord.
♫ (strum) ♫
Now, go on, or do you need me to play you out?”
♫ (strum) ♫
♫ (strum) ♫
♫ (strum) ♫
The closet door appears to be made of wood and is set into the wall. Only a few feet tall, it has a simple brass knob, but refuses to open. There isn’t even a lock you could pick. As you turn away in frustration, you think you hear something move inside… hmm, must have been the wind.
You slip closer to the elf, a tall and slender male with long blonde hair neatly pulled back behind his pointed ears. His sharp, angular features catch the lantern light dramatically as he finally notices you and tilts his head questioningly.
“Do you need something?
♫ (strum) ♫
Why would I know anything about what happened? Auberon likely upset the wrong person this time and they poisoned his drink, but I have no idea who it was.
♫ (strum) ♫
Do you think I did it?
To be forthright with you, Auberon owed me a lot of money.
♫ (strum) ♫
I often played here in the past, drawing mass crowds of all sorts to hear my lovely little melodies.
♫ (strum) ♫There’s nothing quite like an elven tune, our heightened senses allow us to pluck the perfect chords right as they’re needed.
♫ (strum) ♫
In the forest’s shady glade,
Where the leaves and branches sway,
I’ll sing a song of debts unpaid,
And the gold that’s yet to come my way.
For I’ve lent my skills and art,
To those who promised coin and more,
But now they lack a beating heart,
And I’m left standing at the door.
So I’ll keep on singing my tune,
Until my purse is filled with gold,
And the sun and moon above me swoon,
For the elf who’s paid what’s owed.
♫ (strum) ♫
I don’t suppose I’ll ever be paid now – which is why I certainly wouldn’t have wanted to kill the man. It’s not as if I needed the gold, of course, but rather more it’s a thing of pride. And here I thought Auberon had invited me to right his past wrong, to pay what was owed. Maybe he had intended to? That is, before being struck down by some oaf with little regard for life.
No, murder is not the way of my kind. Neither is thievery, mind you, and what’s the ultimate heist if not the theft of a life? Yet, I don’t suspect this was the work of a mere thief. Have you by chance asked the beastly brute by the bar? The half-orc? Not a very intelligent creature, one likely to be easily swayed by his emotions, especially considering that Auberon killed his brother on one of his previous adventures. Who knows what little thing it might have taken to send him over the edge.
♫ (strum) ♫
In the end, I care not. It was an undignified death for a dishonorable man. Point your fingers as you wish, but if you dare point them at me I’ll snap you like a lute chord.
♫ (strum) ♫
Now, go on, or do you need me to play you out?”
♫ (strum) ♫
♫ (strum) ♫
♫ (strum) ♫