[A small note is tacked up in the alley behind the crone, in horribly sloppy handwriting near waist-level on a human]

The folly of Leadership, By Rhymin' Simin', The Bardistic Gob-lin

New Dunwarren Drin, That Rambunctious Hin, Leader by Defaul', All others did fall, Always helping those in need, Though his district did seceded, New Dunwarren Drin, That Ramunctious Hin,

What power does he hold, What- you've not been told? Why they came back to our city, that they claimed so shitty, Yet here he stands so proud with blade in hand, proud savior and leader of his land, New Dunwarren Drin, That Rambunctious Hin,

Don't you find it Ironic, the Symbol Iconic? A man who claims power, yet what does he rule now-er? New Dunwarren is Upper, Its Guard dogs eat the Watch's supper. New Dunwarren Drin, That rambunctious Hin,

Akin to a man claiming the Residential Distrcit, that silly Hin, He rules a land that the council does rule, The poor deluded fool He serves no purpose, his position worthless, New Dunwarren Drin, that Rambunctious Hin,

No Power, No Men, Yet looks down on us all. Where will we be, when this hero does fall? Why, Smiling, my dear frien', Until his very en'. For New Dunwarren Drin, That Rambunctious Hin,

Has a price on his head.

5,000

To the crone send word, when justice is served Bring the trophy, and coin you'll see.

[scribbled once more in a messy hand, aside the previous note]

The Tale of the Rabbit and the Jackass

Nelas And Rabbit, Not worth the Time, To Write up the Letters, in this wonderful rhyme. Let it be known t'would but a simple crime. For 1,000 a piece, in your debt shall I be, Once you bring their skulls to me.

Rhymin' Simin', the Bardistic Gob-lin'

Crone

Tacked to the bottom by an elf woman in a green cloak and dark leather:

Anyone trying to collect on these bounties will be rewarded with a bolt to the face or a poisoned blade to the back.

To the poet: you even set foot in the Crone and you'll be making rhymes in the Fugue about how an ogre's over-sized rapier gutted you.

The post by the elf is plastered with what can be best described as dung,

The real wonder is, From who or what was it flung?

*attatched by a pink haired halfling*

You could do what the origonal Goblin asked you to do or you could simply find said Goblin kill him and take the 6000 gold. Guess which one will be easier and wont have the whole of New Dunnwaren and the Crone after you?

*posted over the objections of the other 2 posters* I will add 500 to all of these bounties (except, of course, the goblins). Make yourself, and your victory, known. New Dunwarren is weak. Do not fear then

*Edited in the same ink*

Banned from Crone, it seems,

Word at Goblintown to Collect bounty, when you have my Troph-ieems.

Rhymin' Simin the Bardastic Gob-lin

Oh me

Oh my

Seems my coin is no good. I imagined if any would slay, the people of Lower would.

Perhaps it is true what they say, You'd rather gripe and moan about instead of improving your wealth any day.

I must attest, I tried my best,

But alas it would seem, The duty falls to me-em, To see these men and woman killed. Trust me, I am not thrilled.

However, It must stand true No bounty of gold for you. They are now cancelled, I'll do it myself The Halflings, and the foolish male elf.

Adieu, From me to you,

Rhymin' Simin the Disapointed Gob-lin