“So what about the festival then?” asked Makaria. “The weather certainly hasn’t improved much.” The locals round the bar exchanged glum looks.
“The only entertainment we’re likely to see this season is the hanging tomorrow” said the cobbler.
“Hanging?” asked Dirk. “A bit unusual in a small town like this?”
“The wizard – the tattooed man” chimed in Korvin the brewer. ".They say he’s a Red Wizard of Thay. "
“Pfft that sounds most unlikely” said Rhistal. “What would a Red Wizard be doing so far from home? And in a small town like this?”
“Well Master Elf” continued Korvin. “They say he was magically disguised and working for Lord Floshin as a gardener, of all things! The same Lord Floshin whose estate was attacked and looted by orcs and half-orcs a fortnight ago. They say the Red Wizard was behind it, and that’s why he’s doomed to hang tomorrow.”
“A good job Lord Floshin wasn’t home during the attack” added Giles the baker. “He could’ve been captured and taken away by the orcs. That’s what happened to his servants, gods protect them! One can only imagine their horrible fate!”
“And who is this Lord Floshin?” asked Perrin.
“Sir Floshin’s an elf noble-keeps an eye on the family estates in Delimbyr Vale like” explained Korvin. “Lived alone on his estate for centuries they say. And keeps an active interest in his tenants.”
“Too much interest if you ask me” slurped Filarion Filvendorson,. “A busybody they all complain.”
“Orcs are a big problem hereabouts?” asked Perrin. “We had some trouble on the way north”
“Always been a problem hereabouts” said Glenys. “But it comes and goes: more recently, that’s for sure.” The locals shook their heads.
“Still” said Giles. “Nothing like a hanging to bring out the crowds and do a little extra business for local traders”. His cronies nodded their assent.