50 pieces of gold! That is what I have left. Four years of no work, and all I have to show for it is 50 gold pieces. My “friends” at the Hoghead has said this day would come, but I will not allow them to get the upper hand. There has been some talk about this hero of Stannisberg … “Jane” … no … “Bart”. Some alchemist-bard is singing this uncivilized refrain, very irritating. I bet there is money to be made in this adventuring. I need to find some flesh proxies, my living shield. I know one of the hero’s group stays at the grove. I can’t find the little gnome but I do find a better auxiliary … mud faced IDontThinkHeKnowsAboutPersonalHygiene-Bellweather. Bellweather agrees to go on an adventure, because that is what Pippy would do(?). Bellweather knows an elf, NotAllHere I think is he name. And to round out the three misfits and me, we find a Serge. Serge the Brain-less, Serge the Thoughtless, Serge the Stupid. I don’t think he understands spoken words. So, Bellweather, NotAllHere Elf, and Serge the Animal Intellect is a perfect group, when only I return no one will think any thing of the fact the others died tragic but humorous deaths. Now the angle, the alchemist, apothecary and herbalist must need supplies, and the hero’s group went in to the woods and returned, so the idea of anyone who leaves the town will never be seen again is wrong. The alchemist has a list of things he would trade for potions, the Apothecary also has a similar list, and the halfling Tumblefoot has a list. Mud-Man Bellweather know that some of these things can be found in the swamp. Success. Plants found, and amazingly no one died. But the only problem is no cash, two weeks until we have our payment.