Bitters for the End
Bitters for the End | |
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Category | Quests |
Type | Live Event Main Story |
Rewards | ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() |
Bitters for the End is a live event quest in Wayfinder.
Description[edit]
Start
Wren is feeling nostalgic for one of her holiday traditions: an Eventide cocktail she calls "The Wistful Breeze." She has asked you to find the bitters she needs to make it again.
Active
Acquire some Darkroot Bitters from Watcher Raze in the Highlands so Wren can make a Wistful Breeze cocktail.
Clear
In search of Darkroot Bitters to make Wren an Eventide drink, you traversed Skylight and the Highlands doing increasingly ridiculous favors for citizens in need. Finally getting your hands on the bitters, your triumph was cut short by the foul-tasting result. At least it's an Eventide memory you won't soon forget.
Requirement[edit]
Prerequisite[edit]
Clear Traditions of Eventide.
Start quest[edit]
Starts automatically.
Objectives[edit]
- Phase 1
- Speak to Watcher Raze in Lower Skylight
- Phase 2
- Investigate the Noise in Lower Skylight
- Phase 3
- Speak to Watcher Raze in Lower Skylight
- Phase 4
- Speak to Lookout Fuller at the Crossroads Foundry
- Phase 5
- Pick up the Hat Thieves' Trail in the Highlands
- Phase 6
- Investigate the Goblin's Footprints in the Highlands
- Phase 7
- Search Ironstone Keep for the Eventide Hat
- Phase 8
- Bring the Shredded Hat to Lookout Fuller at the Crossroads Foundry
- Phase 9
- Speak to Raelle the Haberdasher in Skylight
- Phase 10
- Enter the Eventide Vale
- Phase 11
- Retrieve Raelle's Mannequin From the Eventide Vale
- Phase 12
- Return the Digested Hat Mannequin to Raelle in Skylight
- Phase 13
- Return the Hat to Lookout Fuller at the Crossroads Foundry
- Phase 14
- Take the Reachen Peels to Watcher Raze in Lower Skylight
- Phase 15
- Take the Darkroot Bitters to Tavernkeeper Wren in Skylight
Dialogue[edit]
Happy Eventide, love. What'll it be?
I'll have my regular.
Regular? You don't have a go-to Eventide drink? Peppermint cider? Twinhorn milk with gingerbread? A Wistful Breeze?
No, and... I've never heard of a Wistful Breeze.
What's Omen been teaching you Wayfinders up there? The Wistful Breeze is my favorite. One sip and it's like I'm twenty again, no problems and no worries about some supernatural invasion.
I'd make one if I had the ingredients. Some call me resourceful, but even I haven't gotten my hands on Darkroot Bitters since the Gloomfall.
Tell you what. Watcher Raze knows spices and ingredients. I bought out her stock a week ago. Raze didn't have bitters then, but she never stands still. If anyone's got them now, she does.
She's down in Lower Skylight. Talk to Raze, get the bitters, all fair and festive-like. We'll make you some memories yet.
Oh, one of Wolf's friends. Not much call for you to be out here. Nothing important's happening except a very legal exchange of goods going in and out of Skylight. May I ask the occasion?
Wren wants to know if you have Darkroot Bitters.
Oh, is that all? Here I thought Wayfinders had mystical mind magic and Wolf was sending you by to check up on the contraband situation--
You hear a sudden noise--some kind of scraping and scampering. Raze is at attention immediately.
Did you hear that? Could be a Shrike. They think I won't go to the Seekers when they steal things. You check it out, I'll be ready to, uh, alert backup.
A goblin? In Lower Skylight? I better take it down.
Thanks. Those Geartooths have been after my shipments for some time. To think they'd make it all the way into Lower Skylight... they're getting bold.
I haven't had need of 'em for quite some time. Making Darkroot Bitters is all the peels are used for, and the bitters aren't typically in demand. But that's Wren... others zig, she zags.
Wait, there's one person who might have Reachen Peels—Lookout Fuller out at the Crossroads Foundry.
If you can get the peels from Fuller, I've got the sherry to marinate them. I'd happily whip you up Darkroot Bitters in thanks for, um... our new and mutually beneficial friendship.
The Wayfinder! I heard your vibrations as you approached, you know. Or, uh, as most people call it... footsteps.
Right... I'm looking for Reachen Peels.
Reachen Peels? Might as well ask me for my front teeth. Darkness in the soil, you know. It blights the plants, and laughs when we try to sow in it. I've got some, but they're the last of their kind.
Although... they would be yours if you could rescue a captive. Arturo, a loyal soldier I have conversed with for many an hour, out here in the wilds. You would identify it as...
...my hat. Cackling goblins made off with Arturo, never to be seen again. They may be befouling it even now.
You do know they sell new hats in Skylight?
But they're not my hat! I've spent nary an Eventide without it and I won't begin now.
I fought them goblins over it just outside the gate, but the low-life rutterkins managed to scamper off to the southeast. You want Reachen Peels, liberate my hat.
Seems like there was some kind of scuffle in the snow... Only one goblin made it out. The trail leads southeast.
The trail heads deeper inside Ironstone Keep. That hat had better still be there...
Here's the hat. Torn to shreds. Better take what's left of it back to Fuller.
You hand Lookout Fuller the hat, or what's left of it. Fuller takes it as if it's the corpse of a beloved friend.
I can't believe it. Arturo was given to me by my wife and sweetheart... just before they ran off together.
Very sad. About those peels...
Wait! There's a haberdasher! Raelle, near the East Gate of Skylight. She's skilled in the ancient arts of hat repair. You want those peels, get Raelle to mend Arturo!
Welcome! Looking for something to warm your head this winter? What brings you my way?
Can you fix this hat? It was torn to shreds.
To shreds, you say? Indeed, it's no good like this, but I've seen worse.
I can mend this hat, but I actually could use the help of a capable Wayfinder.
Of course you could...
Every Eventide, I set up my stall to sell and mend hats so that everyone can look their best while celebrating. I'm good at it, too!
But then that portal opened up, and what comes out? A blizzard! Knocked my mannequins to the ground! Hats everywhere! Moisture damage on leather! It was haberdasher carnage!
I came out to put things right, and what do I see? A snowman eating one of my mannequins! Dumb thing thought it was a human! Then that... Glacial Gobbler just rolled on into that portal!
I told the Watchers, but they don't believe my "all-consuming snow monster" story. But you know about the weird and dangerous things that the elements can make happen. And I need that mannequin!
So I'm thinking each of us uses our expertise. Me: hat repair. You: violence. That's a fair deal, right? It's what Corbin would call "enthusiastic reciprocity..."
Just fix this hat. I'll get the mannequin.
Now to find this "Glacial Gobbler."
That monster digested everything but the head and hat. Hopefully Raelle can handle it.
You found my mannequin! Or... what's left of it. At least the hat's in decent shape. My fingers ache from repairing yours. What did you do to it, anyway?
It's not mine. But it's... well-loved.
Gotcha. Well, hopefully when you bring it back to whomever it belongs to, they appreciate all the hard work I did. Here's the hat back. Happy Eventide!
Now to figure out how to blizzard-proof my haberdashery...
Arturo lives! You've actually done it. And this stitching... he's good as new! No, even better!
Ahh, here we are... finally, my head is complete once again! You don't realize how cold it gets out here as a lookout until you lose your hat.
It did seem to be missing something before...
By the way... I know he doesn't literally live, I'm not crazy. It's just that I have no one else to talk to, and Arturo's good conversation if you don't mind that he doesn't use words.
That's enough for now. After a wound like Arturo suffered, it's best to take things slow. Here are those peels you were after. Hope your Eventide's as bright as ours.
You actually managed to get your hands on some peels? Just a moment...
Raze whips out several ingredients, of which you recognize only cooking sherry, and blends them together. She then squeezes the peels in the concoction.
Here you are! Darkroot Bitters. Let Wren know it's on the house. And if Wolf never finds out they exist, that'd be even better. Happy Eventide!
You've got the bitters? I was starting to think you'd gotten lost in the snow.
Wren nabs the bitters from you. In a skillful display, Wren measures, stirs, combines the ingredients, shakes, then pours the dark drink into two cups, adding a cinnamon stick.
Cheers. To the sip of the season... just like Mother used to make, yeah?
This is vile!
Did I not mention my mother's taste bud problem? She was an awful bartender. She thought people would drink medicinal tonics for the benefits. Flavors missed her like stray arrows.
She would come up with the strangest names for them, too—the Wilted Shrew, the Mixing Plaster, the Eldren's Sweat...
..and the Wistful Breeze… Been some long days since last I tried it, I'll say that.
I know you slogged a long way to get this one in the glass. Even if the drink does taste like a shoe pulled out of a goblin's stomach... thanks.
Despite the disgusting texture and intense burning sensation as the drink goes down, the cinnamon stick eventually dissolves, creating a festive aftertaste. Wren relaxes, watching the tavern-goers.
In moments like these, one could almost forget that the world died.
Table Four looks like it's out of grog. I'd better attend to them. You run off and battle for all Evenor or something. And good Eventide to you.
Happy Eventide, Wren.