El'azar's Writings: Elderly and I've not forgot it.

[Necrotic Shadows]

Ulgoth's Beard; Flamerule 21, 1351
The Great Fishing Tournament: "FishingishfoerhtsheSTWONG!"

Upon my journeys as I am oft found, I stumbled into some gossip met with much interest on my part. It seems that in the coastline village of Ulgoth's Beard, a most alluring place of serenity, there would be a tournament of the utmost social importance.... .... a fishing tournament!
You must understand my readers that this finds me most bemused as I have never been quite a fisher and yet I urged my feet in all haste to be at this event of the eons.. and why? For those who know me best the answer is something of a simple sort..... my stomach. You see El'azarithmelorin if anything in this world.. is a man of taste and my favored taste is anything that sets my palette ablaze with excitement. So as fast as my thin ankles and boney legs could carry I set upon the road to the village.

If any have not been there I suggest it for many instances. First and foremost if you like to fish, it is a fishermans haven. If you have a woman you simply wish to impress with your simplistic yet superb taste, it is a great place to have a personal picnic. I suggest by the pond across from the merchants. The village houses a rather entertaining tavern, a lovely merchant's square, prime fishing locations, well guarded. If you're lucky you might get to even hear a story or two from sailors old and new, about ventures most dangerous, treasures of profound quality, and damsels that cause the heart to ache.

But I find myself now far ajourney from where this story was meant to go. Excusing the wandering mind of an old man allow me to relocate us back to the point of my story. So settling then upon the beachfront I found many men at their lines, a few women as well braved the day to claim their part and place in the history of this great sport... fishing.

The first gentleman who's path I crossed was a likeable sort, quite charming and well prepared for the days gathering with his stock of drinks from along the sword coast including the fishermans Ale made right here in Ulgoth's Beard. Also Amnian Pride... Farmer's Moonshine, Chionther River Stout and lastly... the mysterious "Black Death" which was the most expensive of the drinks but a clear mystery as to what it actually tastes like. Why such a mystery? Because one fisherman bought out the entire stock. So invested in his predetermined win he put a hole in his own coin purse to buy only the best.

A Local however would tell the story of the drinks exsistance only as this: "In the Jungles of Chult the Fist soldiers had few liquors... and variety of ingrediencts. You don't want to know what's in this lager. But, it was good and strong enough for the fist to bring it back"

It was not hard after being there for a short bit to know which fisher it was, and to my own shock a fellow adventurer and friend.. known as Merek. Whom of everyone I know in Baldur's Gate and surrounding seems to be the only one who can pronounce my name, or takes the time to. He was quite a jovial man this day and with a heart felt laugh he exclaimed to me... "Fishingishfoerhtshestwong!". Which was either an insult to my scrawny arms and bent back, or was his way of saying with great confidence... that he was "stwong" and he was winning.

The fishing tournament was a three hour festivity, leaving the winner one thousand gold richer. And many throughout the three hours came. Including a cat who clearly thought himself the king of the docks and beach. He was on the prowl, searching for any fish left unattended. It even ventured to attack the drunk Merek and his six foot marlin. Whom protested and scowled then warned me the cat was going to get me.. all five of him. "The Cat Army conspires against us!" quote the drunk.

For all the conversation, the laughs, the aromatic smell of salt water and fish, and the glimmer glammer of emerald, aqua, dark blue and grey waters mixing and mingling like the great races of our society... Ulgoth's Beard is not only a place.. but now a memory I shalln't forget.

Who won you might ask.... truly that is anyone's guess. Except for those of us who were there to witness it. Perhaps any who bother to ask. I only know that you missed out a great spectical and a great time. But I'd be a robber if my story took away from the memories of others and the experience of the day. Now... off to find myself something to eat that doesn't require my waiting upon the success of others and their fishing poles. My stomach waits for no man, especially not an old one.