Voddick leaned back and sipped at his ale. “Something is wrong,” he muttered.
Gollaon nodded, watching the other patrons in the common room. “The newly arrived noble and retinue are . . . impressive?”
“Yes, they are dressed to overawe.”
“Indeed, expensively if not stylishly,” critiqued Gollaon swirling the wine in his glass.
“And something is the matter with that noble’s hat.”
“I suspect it is covering up more than just a bad hair style.”
Horns of Ambition
If found, unused, they are but a pair of small bone nodes with a concave side. Picking them up, the person will hear whispers promising power all they must do is attach the nodes to their skull. If so done, the node will, painfully, meld with the flash and bone and reemerge where they thing is aesthetically pleasing as small horns.
