Three figures stood around a bulging sack that sat squat on the floor of Winterhaven Keep like a black pudding, complete with black congealing slime trail from where the bag, and it’s contents, had been dragged across the flagstones.
“I have heard that it is customary in human lands to provide evidence on collection of a bounty.” announced the first figure, a tall armoured Eladrin knight. With a gesture he invited the man opposite to investigate the bundle. From around the oaken table stepped Lord Padraig, tentatively.
“I am a man of action,” he assured, “I have seen a thing or two in my time…” He reached into the sack with both hands and, with a grimace, retrieved a grizzly ball of blood-caked hair. Within the hair lurked a face that bore an expression of agony.
“That’s Irontooth that one!” chirped the last and littlest figure, a young halfling, “You can tell from the nashers!”
Lord Paraig discovered that the thing in his hands did indeed bear metalwork within its silently screaming maw.
“You must understand, we abhor violence. At least… the tiefling does.” continued the halfling brightly, “But I can assure you the goblins had no ear for reason!”
Lord Paraig pondered this for a moment.
“Perhaps your friend may console himself that you wouldn’t be getting paid if they had.” spoke the elderly warrior. “You have done this town a great service, brave adventurers. I would shake you by the hands… were I in a position to do so.”
Leaving the keep the two curious fellows blinked in the cold sun, the frost of the night before made slippery work of the steps as they descended.
“Well Aran, my fine and furtive friend, I have it that, in human realms, the next stop after collection of a bounty is traditionally the tavern…”
“Tis the case all over, Elwanen,” replied Aran, “And of that you can be certain!”