Owner of the Alehouse, ex-adventurer.


Grizzled and old. Ancient for a human, but in sturdy shape. An eyepatch, grey and white hair with a few streaks of dark black left, a weather worn face full of scars and wrinkles.
He’s expressed his dislike of the librarian, passed along information regarding dragonly rumors, and given access to his special menu.
Ghed used to take jobs around Aleview with an adventuring company. The only story he’s relayed about his adventuring days involved a cursed sword.

“It seems that an old treasure of mine was stolen from above the fireplace. The oaf behind the bar was working when it happened, and didn’t notice. I am, unimpressed with this. The sword was won from a creature early in my career, and though it’s of no use to me in battle, it holds sentimental value, plus it’s kinda dangerous to leave in the wrong hands. I took the sword from a bloke named Brath Blightsworn, but the sword itself is call the Scimitar of Thaenor. Scribbled in some damned inconvenient language on the blade was an inscription. Whosoever slays the deathless owner is cursed to rise and take his place upon his own demise. That inscription gives me pause, I don’t know if I killed Blightsworn. I was pretty sure I did, from the sight of his skull when I took the blade, but I can’t think who else would steal the damned thing now. If I’d been able to read the words during the fight, I likely wouldn’t have fought.”


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