The adventurers took advantage of the downtime to pursue their individual interests. About two months later, Edward contacted Firiona at the Darksea Magic Academy. "I’m ready to start searching," he told Firiona. "Are you ready to use that scroll?" She indicated that she was prepared.
When Firiona put the scroll to use, into her mind came the words, "To the beautiful land in the heart of the range, where buildings are roofed in gold, where gems lie strewn about, go in the name of Ardaric."
"Do you have any idea what that means?" the paladin asked Firiona. "I certainly haven’t heard of any such places, or anyone by that name." Firiona answered, "Can’t say that I have, either. Maybe you need to hire a sage. Should be someone available in Greyhawk who knows something."
Edward agreed that a sage was in order. He arranged for transportation to Greyhawk, where he met with elders of the Church of Hieroneous and asked for a reference. They in turn directed him to a large library in town, where a knowledgeable sage regularly made use of the facilities. The sage proved willing to work, for a modest fee of fifty gold pieces per day, one week minimum. Edward handed over three hundred and fifty gold pieces, and awaited the sage’s report.
One week later, the sage met with Edward. "Found something, I did," the sage told Edward. "Far to the north, beyond The Pale, such a land was said to be found. The Griff Mountains it was, that was the range. Never proven to exist, as far as records here show, but much wealth of minerals is known to be in the Griffs. Also many giants are said to wander there."
The sage took out a map and showed Edward where the Griff Mountains were located. "Best to make for Rakervale, in The Pale. From there, roads into the Griffs can be taken."
Edward thanked the sage for his work, praising his scholarship effusively. He then sought out a cartographer, who supplied him with a map of The Pale, including a street map of Rakervale, and the surrounding mountain ranges, including the Griff Mountains.
Having obtained the requisite geographical information, Edward returned to the inn in Greyhawk where he had been staying. Firiona had arrived a short while before. He told the mage what he had learned. "Let’s invite the rest of the crew," he said. Firiona agreed to return to Darksea and bring those of the friends who wished to join Edward on his quest. Green Arrow and Lina were eager to go. Miae, however, had had enough of adventuring for the time being, and declined to join the crew. "I think I’ll stick to brewing for now," she told the others.
Back in Greyhawk, the four adventurers prepared for their journey. Firiona then teleported the group to Rakervale, just outside the city gates. The gatekeepers asked the party what their business was. "We’re here to find monsters to slay!" answered Green Arrow. This response was very satisfactory to the gatekeepers, who admitted the party without further ado.
Once inside the city, Edward used the map he had obtained to locate a tavern in which to gather information. They found one quickly. The Holy Quarterstaff tavern was dark and crowded, the customers almost all humans, with a couple of elves and halflings keeping to themselves.
A waitress directed the party to the bar, as no tables were free at the time. They bellied up to the bar and ordered drinks. They noticed that the crowd didn’t seem especially friendly. That was no surprise, however, since they were in The Pale, and The Pale was not known for its friendly attitude to anyone who didn’t owe allegiance to the theocratic government and worship in the Church of Pholtus.
Edward decided to try to change some attitudes. He slapped one hundred gold pieces on the counter and spoke to the barkeep. "Obviously you can see we’re new here. We’re looking for information on the Griff Mountains and the surrounding areas." Using his most diplomatic manner, he asked, "Can you help us find someone with that kind of knowledge?"
The barkeep’s formerly surly expression suddenly changed to one of eager helpfulness. "Well, well, I can see you’re a gent of quality. So here’s what you should do. Go to the Monastery of St. Theomon. It’s about two days’ ride east of here. Has a very good library. Ask for the abbot. Not a bad trip, but beware of the Troll Fens."
Edward and the others thanked the barkeep, finished their drinks, then left the tavern to find a provisioner for their journey. They purchased about one month’s worth of rations, which all went into the portable hole. Shortly thereafter, they left the town, heading east.
After a two-day journey, with no problems to speak of other than a small band of orcs that were quickly scared away, the party reached the Monastery of St. Theomon in the early evening. They knocked at the large wooden door. After a few moments, it creaked open, and an old monk, with two novices beside him, appeared in the doorway.
"Who disturbs the peace of the Monastery of St. Theomon?" the old monk demanded.
"We come from Greyhawk, seeking knowledge. We have a donation to offer to the monastery," Edward answered diplomatically.
"You are not a Pholtan. Why should we aid you?" said the old monk. In response, Edward tapped his money pouch.
The old monk thought a moment, then suddenly his tone changed. "Perhaps you are worthy. Whom do you follow?" he asked.
"I follow Hieroneous," Edward answered.
"A worthy power," responded the old monk. "We do not look unfavorably on the valorous Hieroneous. Come in." The door swung wide, and the party entered the monastery. Edward discretely handed over the promised donation to the old monk.
"We can offer you accommodations for the night," the old monk told the party. "Monks’ quarters, of course. Not luxurious by any means, but we are sure you will find them sufficient." The adventurers thanked the old monk, then followed the two novices, who guided them to the cells that would be their lodging.
Early next morning – very early– the party were awakened by the sounds of the monks’ morning office. They rose, equipped themselves, and made their way to the refectory, where they hoped to obtain breakfast. After a simple meal, the party asked one of the novices if they could meet with the abbot of the monastery. The novice led them to the abbot’s office, then told them to wait. He entered the office, closing the door behind him.
A few moments later, the novice returned. "You may go in now," he said. "The abbot will see you."
Inside the office, the party were introduced to Abbot Ceril, a man of middle age, grey haired and bearded, richly dressed in clerical garb. He asked if the party had slept well, then inquired what their mission was and why they were here. Edward explained their need for information pertaining to the area of the Griff Mountains.
The abbot politely listened to Edward, then began a discourse on Pholtan theology. Edward explained that he was a high-ranking paladin of Hieroneous, but that he respected Pholtus and hoped for harmonious relations between the two churches. The abbot seemed agreeable, and kept asking questions, theological and otherwise.
Suddenly, a monk rushed into the abbot’s office.
"The new king of the trolls approaches!" the monk exclaimed. "We are in danger!"
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