Spend enough evenings at The Stonehill Inn or The Sleeping Giant, and no doubt you will hear the fanciful tall tales of Lanar, Phandalin’s resident lush. The oft sozzled miner spins his drunken, rambling yarns with such conviction that one might almost believe his outlandish claims. Like that time he once saw a bear with the head of an owl. Or when he saw a boar the size of an elephant with crackling electricity leaping between its tusks.

Lanar’s latest porky pie recounts a tale in which he recently found himself held in the
baleful gaze of an enormous, luminescent green eye peering out at him through the trees east of Alderleaf Farms two nights past (that he had been helping himself to sweet corn in Quelline’s fields at the time is conveniently left unsaid).

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