"She sails up'n'down the Tristis River. All them river folk see her an' give her a wide berth. Superstitious lot, them river folk. 'Course, we adventurers kill of monstrous superstitions of the rich type on a daily basis! Who're we ta judge? So's anyways, she is said to only appear when the moon is full and the werewolves howl. And though she's ne'er violent, you can always 'ear a moanin' sound. I got no idea what's aboard that ship, but whate'er it is, I want nothin' to do with it."

-Old Gerald, man in the pub

The swirling snow fell on the soldier's shield,

covering the symbol of Hrothen's Hope.

The swirling snow fell on the dwarf's black beard,

and melted into the darkness.

-opening poem of Hrothen's Curse, a dwarven tale

"The Walk. Oh, aye, I've heard o' the walk. Its this peninsula, south of us, where the sides o' this peninsula are cliffs. At the end o' this peninsula is this big area, riddles with caves. In them caves is a huge treasure. At least, according to these rumors I've heard. 'Course, them caves have been taken over by orcs. I'd go take the treasure meself if I was younger."

-Old Gerald, man in the pub

Something is killing and eating the people of Th'gil. This monster displays cleverness, strength, and a thirst for blood. The PCs have stumbled into this town. Will they leave by walking or by dieing?

Money=zombies. Who knew that the room with pictures of people getting killed would spawn undead things trying to kill you?