The proposal

“And a good evening to you, Sir Gnome,” the gorgeous elven maiden said to Norman.

He watched, entranced as one by one, she tested and adjusted each string on her lute, tightening or loosening them as need be. Oh, to be one of those strings...

"Do you perhaps have a request?” she asked.

"Eh... I do... I mean, I would. I mean...," the words tumbled out of his mouth like vomit from a drunken imbecile.

He clenched his teeth and shook his head to rearrange his scattered brain cells.

"Would you happen to know anything by Twisted Sister? T'was a popular gnomish group, once upon a time. I still hear folks humming their tunes every now and again," he responded.

And so the petite elven beauty began to play. Her fingers danced across the strings of her lute so gracefully that he could hardly tell they were even making contact. And yet the notes were as sharp and crisp as the edge of a hardened blade. Soon a crowd began to gather. Some, drawn out of the nearby tavern, brought their tankards and began to waive them about in tune with the lively melody. And then they began to sing. And then Norman began to sing!

"...We're not gonna take it, anymooooooore!" the final chorus surely made its way to the furthest reaches of the most distant field, beyond the palisade.

As the tempo of the boisterous crowd began to subside, an idea worked its way into Norman's head. Pieces came together and a plan emerged. So he composed himself and approached her.

"Milady, if you don't mind me saying so, you have the look of an adventurer like myself," he said. "Have ye come to find the source of the troubles in these parts?"

He listened intently to her response.

"If I might be so bold, I'm forming an adventuring company and I'd be honored if you'd join me at the Governor's Office in three days," he said.

Never mind the fact that he'd been forming the adventuring company for all of twelve seconds... If the old man in the bar was more than a drunken figment of his imagination, then it'd take more than the ad hoc efforts of unaligned adventurers.

As gnome and elf wrapped up their business, Norman became aware of a dark figure approaching. Unnoticed, but not unseen by those around him, he was utterly alone despite the crowd through which he moved. The figure glanced his way and then quickly looked away.

People are strange, when you're a stranger, when you're alone...

When Norman glanced back to the elven minstrel, there were no fewer than a dozen men gathered around her to leave tips, make song requests, and possibly ask for her hand in marriage. He cracked a walnut and moved on. Their paths would meet again soon enough.

...a short time later, in the Haven.

As he sat in the corner booth, Rezp relished the opportunity to observe the complexities of other races, primarily human, interaction, each moment adding to the tapestry of his own experiences. The Haven, with its vibrant energy and diverse cast of characters, became a stage upon which he could witness the intricacies of life unfolding. He made sure to keep a low profile, wanting to do nothing out of place...

And then there was a gnome sitting beside him. His pointy red cap barely came up to the drow's shoulders. Either by exceptional skill or sheer dumb luck (probably the latter), the diminutive creature had evaded all detection until that very moment.

"Greetings, friend! My name is Norman," he said, offering Rezp a tankard of bubbling ale. "You may have heard of me. I'm the renowned Gnomish warrior, and I lead a daring adventuring company. I can tell that you've got a skillset that we could make good use of. Care to hear more?"

The drow regarded him skeptically with a raised eyebrow.

"I can appreciate your skepticism friend, but think about it: there's a great deal more we can achieve together than through our own separate efforts. My company is a tight-knit group, and we look out for one another. Imagine having friends who've got your back when the odds are stacked against you," Norman said.

The drow crossed his arms, still unconvinced. ...but, perhaps a little bit less so?

"You know the troubles facing these parts, I'm sure. Keenly, I'd say. Shadowspawn, say the old and the feeble minded. But... I have it on good authority that it might just be true. Deep down, they all know it too. Can't you see the fear etched on their faces?" Norman said, gesturing broadly at the many patrons about.

While it was true that they were all drinking, eating, laughing, and talking, there was an undeniable tenseness in the air. Like all it might take was one fateful event to bring their world crashing down. So they all played their parts like good little actors, hoping that the show would go on, just as it always had.

"We're here, you and I. Not because anyone wants us here. But because they need us here. Will ye join me for this grand adventure?" Norman brought his little speech to its crescendo.