Hoo boy, did I make some guy named Graywolf angry.
I guess it started because, after fourteen days of adventuring, I still don’t know what I’m doing. I figure, hey, I’m true neutral. I help some people, I hurt some people. As long as I don’t do too much of one or the other, I’m fine.
So this rotund fellow in Nashkel sees me and starts whimpering like a baby. He asks if Graywolf sent me, he was just on his way to deliver the reward money, please don’t hurt him, etc. “Give it to me,” I say. “I promise Graywolf will get it.” This makes him happy, and seeing his chubby face smile while he hands over the gold makes me happy.
“We’ve done good work here,” I tell my companions, and we go to the tavern to celebrate.
I run into the man a little later, and he tells me he got into a boatload of trouble with Graywolf. He yells at me for a bit but doesn’t ask for the money back, so I figure I’m good to go.
Skip ahead a few days, and I’m the town hero. My companions and I have single-handedly revitalized the ore industry of the south, and everyone is very thankful. Feeling on top of the world, I explore the surrounding areas, which is where I run into an interesting fellow named Prism.
Prism thinks he’s a painter or sculptor or something, and, right off the bat, you can tell there’s something amiss:
1. He’s an artist in an industrial town.
2. He lives on the side of a cliff.
3. He’s talking to his “beautious,” and he’s the only person on his cliff.
4. There isn’t a canvas, statue, anything that would back up his claim to art.
He assumes I was sent by Graywolf (I might have forgotten to correct him), and he offers to give me everything he owns except some emeralds. At this point, I just take him for a Gollum, and tell him to hand over whatever he can or Graywolf’s gonna get his ass. While I count my coins and he poetically compares his emeralds to some waif he saw up north, a dude in plate mail shows up and has the same exact conversation with Prism that I just finished.
Is Prism caught off guard by this? Nope. Just like Roberta Sparrow, he repeats his ritual. Did Graywolf send you? I’ll give you everything except my precious emeralds. Waif up north.
As I’m furiously clicking trying to exit stage right, the man turns around and asks for my opinion on the situation. I say, “Hey, it can’t hurt to let him finish his painting/sculpture/whatever he thinks he’s working on.” The man then declares himself to be Graywolf and somehow recognizes me, even though I’ve never met him before in my life.
I’m sure if my party had a choice in the matter, they’d have left me there to die. They probably should have, honestly. I’m making a huge mess of this Saving the Sword Coast thing. Luckily, I have control of them, and we waste Graywolf.
I think we’re finished and turn to leave. Prism, however, has other plans in mind. He declares his invisible masterpiece finished, and begins to walk toward me. He doesn’t get ten feet before he collapses.
I’m still not sure what happened. My on-screen journal flashed my experience and a one-line afterthought: “Prism: death.” I just hope this doesn’t affect my good reputation in town.