This is part two! Stick with me, for this get's wild! Date: Gods-knows-what, thanks to the grog. This takes place later on on the same day. When I woke, my mates were at it again in the square—sparring as though the night before hadn’t seen half our party nearly die. I joined them briefly, then wandered into the tavern where the Thrae vanguard, Phethjeld, was enjoying some peace with his drink. The man’s a tough nut if there ever was one. This reminded me of two days ago… long story short, I’m no Bard, but I somehow convinced myself to try playing alongside Raelyn and Almiri on their instruments. Look, I was stupidly plammered, alright? Don’t blame me entirely. In my grog-fueled wisdom, I picked up a lump of mushy rotting something-or-other (not sure what it was, but gods did it stink). Tried playing it like an instrument. Safe to say it was not well-received, and the patrons shouted me into submission. Fortunately, Almiri, sweet Aelandri that she is, took pity and gave me a Blue Chitin Tambourine. Lovely thing—a weird, buggy instrument from some shrine of Aeton. Gods know what creature it came from, but it made nice music! I noticed it seemed to wiggle several times while I was holding it though. And here’s the kicker: I lost it. Yup. When I woke up two days later, that lovely tambourine was nowhere to be found. Someone had told me about the events of the night before, so I thought, maybe the strange thing might be in the community box, so off I went hunting for it again. Aye, there’s somethin’ strange about that tambourine. It wiggles, vibrates, and hums with some odd supernatural energy. All the searching I could do. Hell, I even checked that mysterious left pocket that box randomly grew. Still, I couldn't find it! Phethjeld must have sensed something was off because, mid-chat, he sat bolt upright like he’d seen a ghost. Turns out, there was an intruder in the city. Someone, or something, was climbing the rock walls around Altheria, and all of us were put on high alert. Now, I may drink like a giant (which I am), but when danger calls, I always answer. I told Phethjeld he’d come to the right Eldeguy. I had this sneaking suspicion—the tambourine is involved in something far greater than me. The hunt led us Along Cyrcline Street where—surprise, surprise—we found the King of all Grex blobs: The Maximus Grex himself. This monstrosity was ripe for a fight. The crew was all there: Leya, Shahn, Lysandra, and me, of course, alongside Phethjeld, our radiant vanguard. We went at it with Nightblade style, primal energy, divine smiting, and good ol' rage. We killed it! But no tambourine! And wouldn’t you know it, the cursed thing reformed into another Maximus Grex. Twice we put it down, and twice it rose. After all the commotion, we found runes inside the pocket of the community box—runes that hadn’t been there before. But, lo and behold, Lysandra found the tambourine! I swear by Aelandra herself, I’d searched that box for hours before! But there it was, safe and sound. Phethjeld brought over a historian named Roots, who figured out the mystical nature of the instrument—a powerful thing, perhaps too powerful to be left rattling around in a city pocket. By now, I’d grown attached to the plucky little tambourine, but the smarter heads in the room thought we ought to lock it away forever or return it to Aeton. I hugged it one last time and played a song Raelyn wrote called “Raise a Glass and Sing.” By the gods, it loved it! The tambourine wiggled and vibrated lively to the beat (even if we played it horribly). Poor thing seemed to have a soul of its own, didn’t want to be forgotten. I realized then that it wasn’t mine to keep. But before we gave it away to some dusty vault, Shahn said something that made a lot of sense—maybe, the tambourine wanted to be played. Being locked away might upset it—and history has shown us how well that turns out. So, I proposed something clever. We’d leave it where any soul could play it, but after the song was over, they’d return it to the community box until the next musical wanderer came along. Everyone loved the idea! So that’s where the tambourine stays. Maybe it’ll find new musicians, new hands, new songs. As for me? I celebrated by getting happily drunk with my friends and passing out in a familiar haze of grog and laughter. All in all, a great day! Grog, fights, magical tambourines, and saving Altheria from yet another menace. Life’s good here, despite all the Blight and darkness beyond the walls. We’ve got plenty of mysteries left to solve—so long as we’ve got grog and friends to see us through. Ever your loyal, groggy writer, Malthius, Slayer of Grex and Seeker of Tambourines