On a Quest - For Quests!

Well, if I can draw any conclusions at this point in my very young adventurer career, I can without a doubt say, Anathaea was right. There are two things in this world that connect every form of life. Two things that, if distilled down, soon can be unified in the marvellous world of sounds. The first part in this happy marriage is played by conversations. Words can be extremely powerful in conveying information, emotion and intention. The second, complementing side is of course reflected in music.
 
After our arrival in Phandalin on yesterday’s eve, we stopped by the local tavern Stonehill Inn, where we were warmly greeted by its keeper Toblen and his lovely wife. After such an arduous journey, a warm meal and a safe place to stay were particularly welcome, and as a small acknowledgement, I offered to fill the room with what humble talent I possess in the latter half of the afore mentioned couple. And it was a pure joy, to witness how bright the mood within the tavern quickly became, how much more laughter could fill each and everyone's throat. Whether they knew the songs or not, regardless of which race or profession they belonged to, every guest seemed to welcome the sound of a good song. Music truly can bring us all together, its power cannot be overstated. Not even a day ago, it helped me ensnare a bunch of nasty goblins to fall asleep, now it is just the bond that binds us all in this world. There lies true beauty, to master this craft will open up all else and bring with it peace, knowledge and wisdom. Toblen seemed to be pleased as well, he offered free meals and a room for my services in playing for his guests. Nothing to sneeze at, I have performed for fees a lot worse in my day.
 
Today was more reserved for the articulating side of the ever-prevailing ribbons of sound. We got acquainted with the town surrounding the inn, starting with the adventurers shop of the Lionshield family, where we delivered their stolen goods. Here Nysqwen also made a very lucky discovery, as she found on the top of one of their storage shelves a rather old lyra of still good quality. What was even more impressive was the engraved and seemingly real name, marking it as once belonging to Will Rattlepike, THE pioneer in modern poetry and sonnets.
 
Apart from that small venture, we visited almost all other points of interest in the town. In the towns centre is located a shrine of luck, guarded and maintained by sister Garaele. She asked for our help in talking to an old banshee - yes, a banshee! We all have heard stories about these ghastly creatures, yet this particular specimen seems to be willing to talk to strangers on occasion in exchange for gifts of beauty. Therefore, she gave us a very pretty comb, as a sign of her and our good will in exchange for the question, where the old spell book of a master Bowgentle might be. We promised her to do our best. Who knows what we are up for this time...
 
In an orchard in the north of the village, we spoke to Daran Edermarth, an old adventurer who switched from the exhausting life in dungeons and caves to a much more peaceful existence in tending to his fruits. His apples sure are quite a feast! He still told us about undead, who had been seen close to the old ruins of Old Owl Well in the east and asked us to see, what we may find as a cause for such occurrences.
 
All our research in this town so far had spoken volumes about the struggle the locals were facing with these red band bandits, their "hide out" - the old manor, standing on a hill overlooking the town was in plain sight, their harassments were affecting everyone, yet apparently the town chief, a man named Harbin, took no measures to do anything about it. We went to the town hall to speak to him, yet his fear was written plain on his face. He did not want to have to do anything with the whole business, instead he sent us after some orcs, marauding to the east. While we certainly will have a look into this affair as well, this man was for sure of no help to us whatsoever. Before we could leave though, Sildar came into the room, arguing on behalf of the lords' alliance with Harbin over the same matter - the faction apparently wants to gain some foothold in Phandalin as well. These power struggles are of no further concern for me, as long as no one has to suffer from them, but the affair with these red bands is an immediate threat to Phandalin and must be taken care of. A least so far, Sildar and we are of the same opinion. Sildar also shows great concern regarding master Gundren, another hint that he is a good soul. He mentioned the name Craigmaw Castle in his tales about their capture by the goblin raiders already yesterday, yet no one in this town seems to know anything about this at all. It just seems to be some goblinoid name for a place or stronghold...
 
Leaving Harbin and Sildar arguing behind us, our path next took us to the miners’ exchange, led by lady Halia Thornton. If we hoped to have here the best chance to gather any information regarding the dwarven brothers, we were disappointed. They have not been seen for a few days, they seemed to claim to have found the ancient lost echo caves. Miss Thornton however finally more or less officially entrusted us with the task of ridding Phandalin from the plague posed by the red bands. For some obscure reason, she also wants us to deliver any kind of written conversation by the ominous leader of the bandits named Glasstaff. What she could want with these letters, she was not willing to tell us. And there, even in withholding words, lie hidden meanings, messages to be encrypted by those unrecieving. We will try our best to help this town in eliminating the threat, what we will do about the letters we can decide when the time comes. I don't like to not know what someone intends, if he or she has not proven trustworthy above any doubts.
 
Finally, it was time for us to face at least some of these red band marauders and so we sought for the establishment known as the Sleeping Giant's Inn. Before we could enter this lousy excuse for a tavern, we made the acquaintance of four fine gentlemen in ragged clothes and with unmistakable red bands marking their allegiances. Once more, yours truly just wanted to exchange a few words with these scoundrels just to know their motivations and whereabouts, but faced with what I can only describe as disgusting rejection, I saw myself presented with no other choice as to... convince one of them to a more reasonable language. Yet, after working my charms, the other three struck down their companion and went on to attack our party. That should prove their last, fatal mistake. After hearing so many troublesome news about their pillaging, our toll taking journey to this town and suffering then such an attack, something in Grum must have snapped. Within the blink of an eye, this broad, gentle, mostly quiet friend of mine was gone - and his place occupied by a wolf. We must have been as surprised as our foes, but thankfully wolf-Grum still kept his dwarven friendships and went to attack the scoundrels in front of us. We followed his example and quickly disposed of this dreadful company. After finishing this grizzly task, some townsfolk appeared, visibly relieved to see us dealing with these bandits. These new skills of ours, albeit strange in acquiring, seem to grow in power quickly, sometimes frightingly so. Yet my hope remains, as long as we can help the good people of Faerun to the best of our ability, we shall do so! As should anyone, gifted with abilities to bring peace and protect beauty and harmony.
 
The last bandit still lay unconscious at the ground after our short battle. We took him into the inn, where a grumpy bar maid provided us with a small drink. As this inn usually works as a meeting point for the bandits, we figured we should not stay long, however it was a good place to have some quiet words with this short-term ally of ours. He at least could tell us a little about the numbers we were facing in these red bands and that there was some secret way into the old manor other than just the front door. He was neither the most talkative nor the brightest so we had to do something with him before realisation struck him, that we may not be too familiar with one another. So, we decided to bash the poor fellow into unconsciousness yet again and leave him in the town halls prison cell. Harbin objected at first, yet he surrendered under the pressure of Nysqwens formidable broad shoulders. It was not the most elegant way, but at least that ensured we would not have to deliver the scoundrel to some nastier fate.
 
The last hour we spent again at our cosy little Stonehill Inn. After our small deed this afternoon, the room seems even more crowded then yesterday, hopefully this will be a more common sight in future days. Our task tomorrow will be one of courage and may be our greatest test yet - to infiltrate this bandit hideout and hopefully cleanse this village from its nightmare. While it is easy to smile through the evening, this still leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. And not the usual abyssal sulfuric taste when someone shrieks at my sight. Even if we are only a company for such a short time, Nysqwen and Archie grow on me every day. They bring this world a joy, it might not deserve but very well need. And even if I am glad in calling Grum my friend for some years now, my trust in and fondness off him as well has reached new heights. I pray to Mystra with every song this evening that this will not be our last evening in this tavern.
 
But here comes Toblen, he wanted to tell us something about his son. So, let us see, where this evenings tale may take us to.