When we arrive, Bernard worriedly comments that Jaheira looks “about ninety” due to the curse. The thing is, I’m not entirely sure how bad this is. She’s a half-elf, after all, so she ages a lot slower than a human does. Wouldn’t ninety to a half-elf be something like thirty to a human? What’s the big deal here?
Well, anyway. As per usual, we find out that Belgrade is, in fact, dead. Told you this was pointless. However, handing Shazzellim over definitely turns out to be worth the effort, since there’s a 3000 gold reward for it. Sweet. Who needs the scimitar? We can buy all kinds of Harper-slaying gear with that kind of money!
Of course, given that Bernard has something like three hit points, anyone who happens to be looking to get their hands on the sword now has a golden opportunity to pilfer it off the corpse of a weedy bartender, rather than first having to contend with a battle-hardened group of adventurers led by a demigod.
But hey, Jaheira, you know best, I’m sure. If some Harper-hating mercenary manages to get a hold of it and shiv you in the gut while you sleep, none of us will hold it against you.
To be fair, though, I suppose I can’t really blame you for not wanting to let someone like Vespero go around carrying a weapon that is designed to kill you, specifically. Especially not if you’re going to be travelling with him every day. He’d probably cut your head off with it just to see if it really worked or not.
With that out of the way, we’ll now be heading straight to the Government district to track down those damned mages and make them pay for crossing us, for their misdeeds in general, for being yet another group of spellcasters that the Cowled Wizards pointedly ignores in favour of descending upon us in all their fury for so much as casting Infravision, and for their awful fashion sense.
They’ve got a lot to answer for.
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