Shole Strikes A Deal...
The door to the tavern burst open and a young man in student's robes rushed in. A crowd of his fellow students, gathered conspiratorially around a round table in the corner of the Tapped Keg, looked up with anticipation.
"I got it!" the young man shouted, thrusting his fist into the air to reveal a tightly rolled piece of parchment.
The crowd of students broke into a cheer, but quickly quieted when the tavernkeeper glared at them. The young man rushed to the table, wiped it off with his sleeve, and then spread the parchment out before the students, all of whom leaned in eagerly to get a look.
"How did you get it?" a female student with a thick northern accent asked.
"There's a cheebat with a contract to supply ink and quills to the chroniclers. He goes in each night to refill their stock. He promised to sneak Eathen’s letters out for me, but he can only take them out one at a time, otherwise someone might notice. We may not be able to see what's in the journal yet, but at least we can see the letters he sent to Master Wineman."
"Wait, a cheebat? What did he ask for in exchange?" responded another student, older than the others, with hair graying a bit at the temples.
"Nothing! He just said I could do him a favor later."
All the students at the table groaned.
"Oh, by Zevas' eye, Shole. He's a cheebat!" complained a dwarven woman wearing the red robes of the Alchemists' School. "You should have insisted on terms up front. No telling what you've gotten yourself into now."
"We'll worry about that later," stated the older student. "Let's get a look at this letter."
"It's the second letter he sent to Master Wineman," Shole said, his enthusiasm only slightly dampened by the dwarf's admonition. "It's about one of the adventurers..."