Onyx inkwell

The Onyx Inkwell loresong

Located on a table in the South Exhibit Room of the River's Rest Museum, this loresong from the onyx inkwell is about looking on the bright side.

You remove an onyx inkwell from on an oak table.

The First Song

A brief moment of befuddlement overcomes you as you begin your song. Your vision blurs and the sharp smell of pickle brine fills your nose. A pair of bright blue dots appear before your eyes. Gradually those dots coalesce into the deepest blue eyes you've ever seen, set in the ruddy round face of a rather chubby man sitting at an inn table. He holds a pickle in his hand, waving it thoughtfully back and forth as he listens patiently to an irate halfling man sitting across from him. Standing nearby, looking out a window with a vacant bovine stare, is a woman who appears to be more of a dwarf than a halfling.

"You said she was petite, Jaffar," the halfling whispers angrily "She's half again taller than I am and weighs more. You said she was clever, yet she has to actually think about which end of her hat is the front. You said she was beautiful, but she looks like a lopsided duck."

"So she's not perfect," Jaffar says softly. "But she'll make you a good wife. Honest, trustworthy, faithful. You want something pretty in the house, go buy some flowers. Trust me, could do worse." Jaffar takes a bite of his pickle. "You don't have to whisper, by the way," he says to the halfling. "She's also hard of hearing."

The Second Song

The sound of a loud *SNAP* almost causes you to interrupt your song. It is the sound of a pickle being bitten, and you quickly find yourself back at the table in the inn. Jaffar sits across the table from a half-elven woman, who stares at him with a look of horror. "Are you mad?" she asks Jaffar. "You want me to marry HIM? Why, he's nearly blind!" Jaffar takes another bite of his pickle before answering. "A blessing," he says. "He won't see half of what you do. What freedom that gives you!" "But he stutters!" the woman says. "Such luck you have," says Jaffar. "A man who stutters doesn't talk very much, so you'll be left in peace." "He has a limp!" she exclaims. "Only when he walks," Jaffar says.

Jaffar puts his pickle down and leans forward, looking the woman soberly in the face. "He's a good man and he'll make you a fine husband. He won't stray far from the house, he won't bore you by telling you how wonderful he is, and he won't notice if the house isn't perfectly clean. You could do worse."

The Third Song

Once again your song transports you to the table at the inn, where Jaffar sits across the table from a middle-aged dwarven couple. Jaffar's ruddy face is beaming with delight, his blue eyes sparkle with satisfaction. "So, you want to renew your contract again," he says happily. "This is the third time. You must be very happy together."

The dwarven couple don't appear particularly happy. "He's a miser," she says. He says, "And she's a spendthrift. Just this morning I gave her five silvers and I'll bet my beard she's frittered it all away." "I bought a little of this, a little of that," she says. "That's two silvers," her husband says. "And I spent a silver here and a silver there." "That's four silvers," her husband says. The wife furrows her brow as she thinks. "Now, what did I do with that fifth silver?" The husband slams his fist down on the table and exclaims, "See?! She doesn't know where she spends twenty percent of the silver I give her!"

Jaffar frowns a bit. "Then why do you want to renew your marriage contract?" The husband and wife look at each other for a long moment, then turn to Jaffar and say in unison, "We could do worse."

The Fourth Song

The feeling of disorientation returns as you renew your song. Once again pair of bright blue dots appear before your eyes. As your vision clears, you see that the blue dots are the matching coats of a middle-aged dwarven couple who are holding hands and walking away from an inn. Kemal Jaffar stands on the wooden steps of the inn and watches them with a satisfied smile. With a sigh, he turns and trundles steadily down the lane. Others greet him as he walks, and Jaffar shares a smile or a quip with them in passing.

Eventually he enters a small gate and follows an overgrown walk leading to a humble cottage. The door is unlocked and Jaffar enters without knocking. He removes his coat, hangs it on a peg near the door, and takes himself into the cottage's tiny kitchen. In a drainer beside a wooden washstand is a single cup, a single plate and a single knife and fork.