<strong>"Probably should na' be surprised."</strong><br/><br/>The fat man leans forward, knowing that he has his "audience"- three younger bards, none of whom have earned the golden mark of the Cirrdain Performer's Guild on their instruments yet- exactly where he wants them. More likely than not, the three will be competing to see who can best tell the tale, and within a month one of the them will be sitting where the fat man sits now, prepping their juniors with the next big "scoop."<br/><br/><strong>"A'ter all, he always <em>were</em> fond o' ale. Why would na' his descendants follow in his footsteps? O' course, he were always one for the drinkin', not for the makin'." </strong>The portly loremaster chuckles at that, and looks around the room conspiratorially- though you can see in his eyes, as they pass over you, that he<em>wants</em>to be heard, rather than the other way around.<strong>"But where were I? Ah, yes... It were an alchemist that confirmed it. Father, daughter, gran'mother... each an' every one o' em had the blood of the Hero coursin' through their veins." </strong><br/><br/>Of course, this isn't the first time you- or anyone else- has heard the story today. It's been the buzz in every tavern, on every streetcorner... but the loremaster is certainly putting more effort into the telling than most.<br/><br/><strong>"An' every one dead in the same fire. Mother, brother, all o' em... their bodies were counted, an' identified by tha local cleric. A whole family, lost in a night... 'cepting for one. The youngest, a ten year ol' named Kade- if that don't beat all- who's up and vanished." </strong>The fat man chuckles and goes through the motions of leaning forward, acting as if he'll be telling some great secret... at the top of his voice, of course.<strong>"An' rumor has it tha' the Pathfinders got involved within tha hour. 'The blood of a god is missing,' they cry. 'We have ta find him, ta protect tha bloodline o' the Drunken Hero.' You know why that is, don'cha?"<br/></strong><br/>One of the three- an extrovert among extroverts- pipes up, playing along with his master's act.<strong>"Why is that, Master Gornan?"</strong><br/><br/><strong>"Because, ya daft fool!"</strong>The fat man's hand<em>slams</em>against the hard wooden table, the resounding slap echoing all through the Dancing Drow tavern.<strong>"The boy has tha blood o' a god rollin' through his veins! An' as any old wizard worth his salt will tell ya, blood has power... an' the blood o' a god has more than most!"<br/></strong><br/>-------------<br/><br/>On the other side of the bar, the old owl-tengu who works the night shift sighs and shakes his head, returning his attention to you and the other patrons now that the old man has finished his tale.<br/><br/><strong>"Whoole bloody world is in an uproar now..." </strong>the tengu says, his big round eyes turning to meet yours.<strong>"What's your take on all of this, Master... erm...?"</strong>