Starlight survived the wyvernling’s sting. Once they were all awake, the three of them easily defended the camp, killing the three winged creatures.
Starlight: Do you think they taste good?
Murri: Ha! Now there is a thought.
Alina: I wouldn’t trust her taste buds, Murri. She’ll eat anything.
A few days later, just after sunset, they arrived in Eastbrook without further incident.
Alina led the pony pulling Murri’s goods to the back entrance of the Winter Wolf and helped him unload.
Meanwhile, Circe and Starlight headed towards the Temple of Pelor.
The front chapel was dark and empty. A light source flickered underneath the door to the Patriarch’s study in the back. Circe gave the door a good knock that incited a rustle of papers behind the door.
Patriarch: Come in.
Inside the study, Starlight hefted the large book on to the Patriach’s desk. The Patriarch put down the papers he was going over. His eyes grew wide. Dumbfounded, he stood up.
In his haste to take the book he bumped into the desk, rocking a single white burning candle that illuminated his study. Wax spilled on some of the papers he had been looking over.
Patriarch: I can’t believe you found it! And it was really there!
Tess: What about the candle?
DM: What do you mean?
Tess: The wax spilled on the papers?
DM: Ya, he was just excited and knocked into his desk.
Tess: Is there anything funny about the candle?
DM: Uh, it looks like a lit white candle.
Tess: Why did you focus on the candle?
DM: If you want to ask the Patriarch about his candle, go for it. Right now he seems distracted by the book.
Kay: Oh! That reminds me. I want to ask him about our stuff.
Without trust in her gaze, Tess looked at my confused face across the table. Maybe she’s played too many CRPGs?
Kay started listing all the items Starlight was holding up for him to identify. Having helped the halfling deliver his goods, Sue had Alina join them, so she could have him identify her items as well.
The patriarch sniffed the uncorked bottle. The smell of peppermint filled his nostrils.
Patriach: Healing potion. Here. Smell.
Alina: Do all healing potions smell like that?
Patriarch: Yes. What else have you got?
He explained that the gnarled stick was a Wand of Magic Missiles and could only be wielded by a mage or apprentice. He was unsure of how many charges it had.
He gave back the silver ring to Alina, explaining that it was a Ring of Fire Resistance. She placed it around her finger.
The Patriarch held up the gold ring and examined the etching inside the band.
Patriarch: Goitre? Sounds like the name of a kobold. Did you come across any? Either way, there doesn’t seem to be anything magical about it.
The Patriarch handed the ring back and walked over to a small chest on a shelf. He turned around and dropped a large sack on the desk in front of them.
Patriarch: For finding the book and for your trouble.
Starlight pulled the drawstring on the bag and peered inside. Her eyes met hundreds of gold coins.
The Patriarch excused them.
They headed for the Winter Wolf tavern.