You are not crazy about leaving this thing here to drink its fill of magic. You are, in fact, terrified of what that might mean. You are just, ever so slightly, more terrified of what might happen if you pull the artifact out without having any sort of clue what might happen. The others agree with your assessment. You will seek information before taking action. As the group readies itself for the trek to the leprechaun village, you feel through the magical currents under your feet one last time to make sure the lamp won’t suck the place dry as soon as you turn your back. The object sits quietly sipping on the magic at a sedate pace.

The party hurries to return to the lake where Elam had instructed you to meet for your reward. You make good time through the woods and arrive just as Elam and a group of leprechauns carrying your reward do. Elam’s smile at greeting you melts away as he gets a good look at your grim faces. After a short explanation, he too wears a concerned expression.

“Well ain’t that just the luck? One problem done, and a bigger one gets found.” He looks thoughtful for a bit. “I kinnae say I know what it is, but we have a vested interest in the flow of magic around here staying just the way it is. I have a way to hurry ye along, take yer reward quickly now and follah me!”

You pack up the ingredients needed to complete your original job and follow the group of leprechauns into an idyllic looking clearing. Green grass grows all across the clearing, which makes you not see the small town until you are standing in it. Built into the sides of small hillocks in the field are tiny homes and businesses. Leprechauns walk about on their daily business, seemingly unconcerned about the group of giants in their midst. Elam leads you straight to what is easily identified as a pub. After instructing you to wait outside and watch your step, Elam goes inside. In a short while he comes out with a group of the pubs patrons lugging caskets the size of brandy glasses to you. Taking the lids off the barrels, you smell the aroma of the “Pots oh gold” you sampled last night. Before you protest that now is no time for a drink, the leprechaun leader begins tracing a runic seal in the liquid with his shillelagh. Once he’s done he looks up and delivers his instructions.

“It’ll take ye most of the day to get back to yer town and then another te get oot te the tree. Drink these and ye’ll be there before ye kin snap yer fingers three times.”

You all reach down for the liquor. You are hesitant to take the word of a man who threatened you just yesterday, but before you can get an idea of whether he may or may not be telling the truth, Horton has slammed his glass/casket in a single pull.

“That’s good stu…” The halfling teeters drunkenly, but vanishes into thin air before he hits the ground.

Now you are more curious than worried. What manner of spell could accomplish such a thing? Mal obviously doesn’t share your concern as a burp comically echoes from his helm. His fall nearly makes him plant his visor in Lyrrica’s chest, but he vanishes before contact. Lyrrica looks supremely disappointed as she finishes her chug.

“Oh come o…” the alchemist’s indignation is cut off as she keels over backwards. With the rest of your party already taking the plunge, you can’t make them wait for you at your destination. You gulp down the whiskey and are immediately stone drunk.

“Sorry aboot the hangov…” Whatever Elam was about to say is interrupted by the feeling of a hard floor against your face. You are in your room at the inn, and your head feels like you lost a boxing match with a cave troll.

Staggering out to the main square, you find the rest of the party arriving, obviously nursing headaches of their own. You immediately look at Lyrrica, hoping she has more of the hangover cure offered yesterday. The redhead shakes her head.

“They take a few days of marinating… ow.” speaking makes her face go pale. She reaches into her pack and pulls out some strips of what looks like green jerky. Without explaining, she bites one in half and offers the part she isn’t chewing to you. Once you start chewing, you feel your thoughts return to normal. You are still in pain, but you just don’t care as much.

As soon as everyone has regained their pallor, you send Mal and Lyrrica to turn in the ingredients for your bounty. Horton leads you to the local monastery/crusader barracks to ask if any of the scholars there can help you translate the Oriac runes on that lamp. You’re being counted on by… huh? Did someone want you to take care of the lamp? Weren’t you just doing it because it needed done? Weird, you could have sworn there was more to this…