As they all speak their willingness to help, Yovir lifted from his gardening with a soft sigh; he wasn't old, but he wasn't young either, and his back was starting to notice. He looked each of them in turn with his solemn, long face.<strong>"Very well..."</strong>he gave a little wave of his trowel at Lyanna.<strong>"It's not my city in the least, which is part of why you are here. My temple tries to stay out of the city's politics. But I feel there is a threat looming, and the factions and leagues and power blocs..."</strong>he sighed and shook his head.<strong>"I'll spare you, but a dragon could be burning the town down and they woudl argue over who appoints the committee to discuss candidates for addressing the issue."</strong><br/><br/><strong>"That's why I needed outsiders, people without ties to the town."</strong>he stood with a small achey groan.<strong>"Acting in the interests of the temple, of course."</strong>He dusted his hands off and tucked htem into the sleeves of his robe.<strong>"Several credible witnesses speak of a ghost ship terrorizing the coast of the Moonsea, headed North towards Phlan. The restless dead are, sad to say, not an uncommon sight in this region."</strong>His jaw set in a firm line; his own order maintained a perpetual crusade against such abominations, after all.<strong>"And just yesterday, my temple received a man from Vendel, a small fishing village two days south. He's... not altogether there, it seems, and we're caring for him within the temple. But he speaks of a... <em>thing</em>."</strong>Yovir's brow furrows in deeply creased lines.<br/><br/><strong>"He speaks of a dracolich."</strong>