When we finally arrived in Shadowdale, a young girl ran up to us and proceeded to sell us a map of the area. (I think her name was Betra?) The first thing we did then was look at a bulletin board. There were all kinds of interesting things posted, but three in particular caught our eyes. One was addressed "To Landril". The inside of it said, "Must work tonight. Postpone 'til tomorrow, at the usual place." We had a few laughs imagining the illicit tryst that must have referred to. The important ones though, were job offers. The first offered a reward of twenty silver pieces to anyone who brought vandalizing cattle drivers to justice. The second wanted an adventuring party to perform reconnaissance, with a reward of 100 gold pieces and some of any booty found. However, some jokester had crossed out the reconnaissance part and replaced it with "suicide mission," and had replaced the part about a percentage of any found booty with "burial of body if found."
After some heated debate, we decided to first check out the cattle job. We were so excited about finally getting to do some real adventuring; we didn't even explore the town or stop in an inn to drop off our backpacks. After questioning some nearby farmers, we learned that someone had been driving herds of cattle through the farmers' fields during the night, destroying the crops. We examined the tracks, and Mical determined that cattle did not cause them. He also tracked them, finding that the tracks appeared to originate from the Old Skull, a steep hill in the center of town. (The hill really did resemble a skull!) The tracks then seemed to go into the river, disappearing from sight. I am not sure if any type of priest is that skilled at tracking, so I am not sure of Mical's profession now.
After wandering around for a long while, we decided to get some rest. Mical wanted to sleep outside, but no one else seemed interested. I would have if he had asked me to, but I am grateful he didn't, since I wanted to get a decent bath at the inn. After learning what the inn was serving, Lagasse hauled a huge iron kettle out of his backpack, causing some laughter from Lyra. It turned out he really was a decent cook, thank goodness. Although we smelled like we had been in a garlic patch afterward.
The next morning, we wandered the area near the hill, and once again found nothing to help us solve the puzzle, though we did pass Elminster's tower. I feel as if I have seen a national monument. Every apprentice mage, and most master mages, dream of consulting with Elminster. The spells he must have in that tower of his? I knew he didn't like visitors, so we avoided trespassing. Perhaps someday I will get to meet the famous mage.
The Rumormonger:
Eventually Lyra and Lagasse seemed to be getting tired of fruitlessly looking for clues about supposed cattle, so we went to see the warden of Shadowdale to inquire about the 'suicide mission.' On the way there, we heard a commotion in the distance. Someone was calling out "Rumors, rumors for sale!" The voice kept getting closer, and finally a human male dressed in a ludicrous manner appeared. His garb consisted of an oversized coat of assorted garish colors, a plumed maroon ranger's hat, orange pantaloons, and knee-high eelskin boots. Noticing an audience, he broke into a story of gladiatorial combat between a small boy and a half-orc, complete with different voices and sweeping hand gestures. After introducing himself as "Llewellyn the Loquacious, also sometimes known as 'the Loud'," he began his sales pitch again. "Rumors, rumors for sale! Would you like to buy a rumor?"
I was already trying not to laugh, and seeing the way his moustache wiggled each time he yelled about rumors for sale made me nearly collapse with silent laughter. Won over by his clownish manner, I asked how much rumors cost. I was informed that better rumors could be purchased with more money. So I purchased a rumor for one silver piece, asking whether he had any rumors about the 'suicide mission' posted on the bulletin board. He promptly pulled a small folding stool and a crystal ball out of his cloak. Peering into the ball, he spoke:
"Chambermaids of the Twisted Tower sometimes whisper about the Legend of Lost Lovers. Young women would return frightened and alone from what was supposed to be a secluded flirtation with a handsome young member of the guard. The stories vary, but usually the two get separated and the young member of the guard is never seen again. Since it is forbidden to be in the passageways, the disappearances go unreported and uninvestigated, though knowledgeable masters of the guard shake their heads knowingly when notice is posted of a guard 'lost on patrol.'
We thanked him, and declined any further rumors. We were puzzled enough about what importance, if any, the rumor we already knew had. Shrugging our shoulders, we continued on to the ominous sounding Twisted Tower, hoping the warden would clear up the mystery.
A guard led us into the building into the warden's presence. The warden immediately seemed like a boor, and rather unsure of himself. His deputy must have been recruited from the nearest country bumpkin patch. We asked about the sign on the bulletin board, and he started in on what sounded like a memorized speech. Essentially, he said that we were to map out the area under the Tower. For this we were to be paid what sounded like a good deal of gold to me. However, several other groups of adventurers had set out on the same mission, and never came back. This understandably made us a bit leery. This uncomfortable feeling increased when the word 'drow' was mentioned.
Luckily for us, my companions had more experience in haggling and money matters than I did. They grilled the poor warden until he was completely flustered, which he deserved since he was trying to mislead us. He's lucky we didn't just leave. I have to admit, I did feel sorry for him. Lyra was especially brutal, and Mical didn't take any guff either. The end result was that we would be paid 250 gold pieces each, and get to keep seventy percent of any loot we found, on the condition that we mapped out the entire area. In addition, we were to receive a rock of continual light, a potion of extra-healing, and an elixir of health when we departed in the morning.
We were slowly walking back to the inn when a now-familiar figure jumped out in front of us. "Rumors, would you like to buy a rumor?" As I covered my ears I understood why some called him Llewellyn the Loud. Lagasse decided to buy a rumor for one gold piece. Once again, Llewellyn studied the crystal ball.
"The Old Skull is the real fortress of the drow. The Tower is not, as it just sits on top of the passageways. Great wealth and magic still reside within the Old Skull, and can be accessed by the tunnels beneath the Tower. Lord Mourngrym sent parties to try to get the wealth he claims for himself as the Lord of Twisted Tower. Other groups trying for themselves have gone below and not returned. Guards found one dying adventurer, bruised and clawed, who said, "Leap, do not look. The spring is death."
We thanked Llewellyn, and pondered the meaning of his words all the way to the inn. All this drow business worried us, but after all, it was all just a rumor so far. As long as we didn't see any dark elves, we would try not to focus on the thought.
Eventually Lyra and Lagasse seemed to be getting tired of fruitlessly looking for clues about supposed cattle, so we went to see the warden of Shadowdale to inquire about the 'suicide mission.' On the way there, we heard a commotion in the distance. Someone was calling out "Rumors, rumors for sale!" The voice kept getting closer, and finally a human male dressed in a ludicrous manner appeared. His garb consisted of an oversized coat of assorted garish colors, a plumed maroon ranger's hat, orange pantaloons, and knee-high eelskin boots. Noticing an audience, he broke into a story of gladiatorial combat between a small boy and a half-orc, complete with different voices and sweeping hand gestures. After introducing himself as "Llewellyn the Loquacious, also sometimes known as 'the Loud'," he began his sales pitch again. "Rumors, rumors for sale! Would you like to buy a rumor?"