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Frazzled looking, Nellie Duncan enters the tavern of Brennondale. "Is anyone up for one last adventure? I could really use some help killing a Doom Worm and possibly it's handlers in order to recover some stolen items from my family's ancestral hall."

The Winter Witch answers Nellie's call.

"Ah, there you are. So what exactly is this stolen treasure that you have lost?"

The Seer draws closer to the Master Craftswoman.

"My gift of divination could be of use to you... But if we are to face Doom Worms along the way, we cannot embark on this mission alone."

"I know we can't do it alone," Nellie says sadly. "When I found out about the tunnels that had broken into the Hall's Throne and Treasure room, I paid for an investigative team to hire some guards and go in to find out where the tunnels lead while I attempted to repair the walls of the Treasure room. Very few returned with news of the Doom Worm that was making the tunnels. The rest were eaten."

"As for what's been stolen, the Doom Worm or Worms have eaten some of the treasure before I managed to repair the walls to that room. The thieves I believe that control the Worm or Worms have stolen 4 of these," Nellie pulls out 5 obviously non-steel spheres from one of her many pouches with engravings upon their surfaces. "They were created by my ancestors to help power the defenses of the Hall. I'd like to get them back to restore the defenses. They've also taken the ancestral tree tapestry from the Throne Room, which I'd like to recover to confirm that my family is indeed descendants of the Dwarves that once lived there. More things may have been stolen though, as I don't have an inventory of what was there, one of which may be the clan's prized weapon, a hammer that called upon storms to defeat its enemies."

(OOC: PM me if you believe your character would know the metal the spheres are made of.)

Kolvar opens the door to the inn and looks around with a mildly amused look on his face. "This place looked a little better on the outside. Oh well, good enough for some food and drink."

He makes his way a small table and sets himself up in the corner. He pulls out a ratty old journal and beings writing into it. As time wear on it is quite certain that Kolvar is oblivious to his surroundings as hours pass since the food was brought to his table and he hadn't touched it. He is seen furiously scrawling into the journal and humming to himself whilst doing so.

"A hammer that calls upon the power of the storm?" Mogause's eyes widen and the jewel in her forehead crackles with a hint of lightning.

"I would like to see such an artifact with my own eyes. As the last remaining oracle of the weather tradition, I am certain that the secrets of that hammer would prove invaluable to one who commands the elements, like myself."

The Valkyn'vi hears a slight commotion as a stranger walks into the tavern. She looks at the newcomer as he takes his seat and orders his meal. Morgause examines the man as he writes in his journal. She smiles and points her finger at him.

"By the stars, I believe our pleas have not gone unnoticed. I sense that that man there is an adventuring sage such as you and Khorvalis. Look at the journals he carries with him..."

Silvery white mists flow from the witch's fingertip and begin snaking towards the stranger [Resourcefulness]

"Nellie, let us get his attention," Morgause laughs as her snake-like apparition coils its way onto the traveler's corner table.

As the misty phantasm sways in front of its quarry, Morgause begins to walk towards the sage and his journals. As she reaches his corner, the witch snaps her fingers and the apparition vanishes in a crisp gust of wind, rustling the stranger's many papers in the process.

"I see you don't scare too easily," Morgause sits herself at the corner table and then beckons to Nellie to join her. "That is an admirable trait, elf. You may just be the person my friend and I have been looking for. Welcome to Brennondale... or what's left of it."

It takes a while before the elf takes note of the two.

"Oh my deepest apologies, it seems I have once again gotten absorbed into my novel. Fascinating magic you did there. What do you call yourself my lady and how may I be of assistance?"

As he says this he lays down the journal and quill,he props himself up comfortably after being hunched over for some time.

"She is called the 'Winter Witch' but her heart is anything but cold."

The voice of an old man harkens from the back room of the tavern. It grows closer.

"I see you have found your way to Brennondale, Keldor... or was it Khervil... nope that wasn't it."

Into the light steps forwards a venerable Ga'vin man. A pendant shaped like the sun hangs about his neck. He makes his way to the traveler's table and takes a seat next to Morgause.

"Kumar! That's it! Your name, elf, is Kumar?! I remember it clear as the daytime. We met at the Feast at Hagar's... you had traveled there with our dwarf friend, Ruscion."

Ordrak would wander on into the tavern, his footfalls heavy and accompanied by the clack of his bone clad staff. He heaved a heavy sigh, his family were out and about doing only the Gods knew what and he had chosen to stay back and get some research done but truth be told the old Orc with his mottled skin had a feeling in his gut that some new adventure beckoned him soon. Grunting as he made his way to a table off to one side he'd motion a server over and order a meal and drink, though before he could properly tuck in his ears would perk up at the sound of familiar voices.

"Ah the Witch of Winter, If I may call you that. What can I be of service to you for.? I don't really do much except chronicle the stories of my adventures. Or at least I will be, as soon as I find an adventure worth writing about. So far its the usual bandit ands skeleton jobs i've seen so far. I was hoping that this area would provide me more than just the typical."

"Why hello there Khorvallis, it has been some time. The name is Kolvar Syntrell , adventure novelist, scholar and chronicler of all things exciting. But most people back home...wherever that is now...called me Kol. So please, call me Kol.

"Yes, the hammer either gave the clan it's name of Stormhammers, or the clan created it to be it's namesake. I'm not quite clear on that matter myself, though chronologically speaking from what I know it was probably the later," Nellie says sheepishly, embarrassed at not definitively knowing which.

At Morgause's suggestion, Nellie brightens. She follows the Witch to the table silently impressed by her conjuration, sits beside her and listens to their conversation. At Khorvalis' voice, she turns her head in surprise.

"Ah, Khorvalis! It is good to see you here as well. Come, sit with us - I have much to explain about a matter dear to my heart that is long overdue." She raises her voice once more, for anyone else that might be seated in the tavern proper, outside on the porch, or in the kitchen. "Any and all are welcome to join to hear me out. Whether or not you wish to accompany me will be up to you after."

She turns back to the elven scholar with a nod of her head. "Elen sila lumenn omentilmo, hodoer."

"My name is Nellie Duncan, and I'm afraid it is I who have the problem in need of aid."

She waits patiently for anyone else to come sit with them.

"Well I don't know how much help I will be, my blades are rather new and have not seen much battle if that is your problem. However if you require someone to write a biography for you I will be more than happy to oblige."

"Write a biography?!"

Morgause rolls her eyes.

"Now, now, Morgause... let us not judge our new friend so harshly."

Khorvalis places his wrinkled hand on top of the Witch's, as if to calm the Seer.

"Do not forget, there is a human adage... the quill is mightier than the sword," Khorvalis says with a gentle smile.

"Well, old man.... unless this elf's writings can somehow kill Doom Worms, I don't know what good he will be to this mission."

Morgause notices Odrak walk into the tavern. She motions to the orc mage to join them.

"What we need are capable individuals, with sharp swords... or skill in sorcery. Something, you know... useful."

Morgause again addresses Kolvar.

"Unless the ink in your elven quill is laced with poison... then perhaps we could have 'Kol' poke the Doom Worms with that."

The Seer playfully runs her finger over Kolvar's plume.

"Write that down, elf... 'the pointy-eared sage slew the nest of a dozen Doom Worms and saved the lost treasures of the Stormhammer Clan... not with a sword or mace, but all with just his feathery quill!'"

"Yes what you need is someone whose blades run red with blood, whose eyes blaze with the fury of the sun. I am afraid my days of the sword are behind me. The last time..." Kolvar stops here not finishing his sentence, a wrinkle of grief appears slightly in his face.

"Well lets just say that it has been a while. However, I will never turn down someone in need. If you need a body for this I will gladly assist in anyway I can."

And while he claimed his blades were new, this can be easily seen as not so. The longer blade he had on his hip, a slightly curved blade about a hand and half long definitely Elven in make still had old crusted blood on it. The other one, a shorter blade, has never clashed against steel.