Conversation: q_brn_conv
Triggered by
- creature NPC Grimbeorn the Old Lord of the Beornings
grimbeorntheo001— in Beorn - creature NPC Grimbeorn the Old Lord of the Beornings — in Beorn
Scripts referenced
| Script | Slot | In module | Notes |
|---|---|---|---|
q_brn_c4 | active | ✓ | |
q_brn_pay | action | ✓ | |
q_brn_start | action | ✓ | |
q_brn_c1 | active | ✓ | |
q_brn_c2 | active | ✓ | |
q_brn_c3 | active | ✓ | |
q_brn_clow | active | ✓ |
Quest entries granted
| Quest | Tag | Step(s) |
|---|---|---|
| Beorn's Garden | beorn_garden | 1, 2 |
Custom tokens
These runtime tokens are filled by NWScript via SetCustomToken(N, text). The scripts listed set each token; the actual value depends on game state at runtime.
| Token | Set by script(s) |
|---|---|
<CUSTOM6370> | q_brn_c1 |
<CUSTOM6371> | q_brn_c2 |
<CUSTOM6372> | q_brn_c2 |
Starting entries
- entry #0 (if
q_brn_c1) — *Grimbeorn sets down a honey-pot the size of a cauldron* The day's work is done … - entry #1 (if
q_brn_c2) — *He counts on fingers thick as axe-hafts* How fares my father's garden? I make i… - entry #3 (if
q_brn_c3) — *Grimbeorn the Old looks up from a broken hive-board, and his eyes are not entir… - entry #7 (if
q_brn_clow) — *Grimbeorn looks you over the way a farmer weighs a spring lamb* No. These wargs… - entry #8 — *The Lord of the Beornings watches you in silence, wide as a door and patient as…
Conversation flow
Each starting entry is expanded recursively. Repeated nodes (cycles, shared continuations) appear inline as ↩ link backrefs to the first occurrence.
entry #0 (if q_brn_c1) ¶
*Grimbeorn sets down a honey-pot the size of a cauldron* The day's work is done and paid, friend. The pelts are salted and the combs are in the press -- let the bees have their peace till the morrow. Come back in <CUSTOM6370>[q_brn_c1].
reply #0 ¶
Until tomorrow, Lord of the Beornings.
entry #1 (if q_brn_c2) ¶
*He counts on fingers thick as axe-hafts* How fares my father's garden? I make it <CUSTOM6371>[q_brn_c2] warg pelts of the six, and <CUSTOM6372>[q_brn_c2] hives of the three drawn. Break a hive open and the raiders will come to you -- they cannot help themselves.
reply #1 → q_brn_pay (if q_brn_c4) ¶
The wargs are skinned and the honey is drawn. Six pelts, three combs.
entry #2 ¶
*He turns the pelts over once with a paw-broad hand, then nods* Fair work, and the honey besides. *he counts gold into your palm and adds a wrapped comb from the stores* My father kept this garden with his own hands; it is good to see it kept still. The wargs will be back tomorrow -- they always are.
reply #3 ¶
Until tomorrow, Grimbeorn.
reply #2 ¶
Still working the meadow. The bees are winning.
entry #3 (if q_brn_c3) ¶
*Grimbeorn the Old looks up from a broken hive-board, and his eyes are not entirely a man's* Wargs in the bee-meadows -- a whole raiding pack of them, drunk on my father's honey and bolder every night. I have hives to mend and no hands to spare. Draw the honey from the three great hives about the homestead and the Carrock, kill six of the raiders the broken hives call in, and I will pay you from Beorn's own stores. Once each day, no more.
reply #4 → q_brn_start ¶
I will tend the garden. Wargs and honey both.
entry #4 ¶
*He grunts approval* Good. The hives stand in hollow stumps -- one here in the garden, two up on the Carrock heights. Crack one open and keep your blade loose: the wargs come running at the smell of broken comb. Six pelts and three combs, then find me here.
reply #7 ¶
Blade loose and boots laced. I'm off.
reply #5 ¶
Where do the hives stand?
entry #5 ¶
*He jerks a thumb at the meadow and the great rock beyond* Three hives: one in the garden here, two on the Carrock -- the lesser height and the greater. The honey is yours to cut; the bees will forgive you by winter. But every broken hive sings to the wargs like a dinner-horn, so the killing and the harvesting are one job, not two. Six pelts, three combs, and gold from the stores when it is done.
reply #6 ¶
Bees and wargs are not my trade. Good day.
entry #7 (if q_brn_clow) ¶
*Grimbeorn looks you over the way a farmer weighs a spring lamb* No. These wargs have dragged down grown Beornings, and I will not send a green blade to feed them. Put twelve seasons of fighting behind you, then come ask me again about the garden.
reply #11 ¶
As you say, Grimbeorn.
NPC lines (entries) — flat index
entry #0
*Grimbeorn sets down a honey-pot the size of a cauldron* The day's work is done and paid, friend. The pelts are salted and the combs are in the press -- let the bees have their peace till the morrow. Come back in <CUSTOM6370>[q_brn_c1].
- → reply #0 “Until tomorrow, Lord of the Beornings.”
entry #1
*He counts on fingers thick as axe-hafts* How fares my father's garden? I make it <CUSTOM6371>[q_brn_c2] warg pelts of the six, and <CUSTOM6372>[q_brn_c2] hives of the three drawn. Break a hive open and the raiders will come to you -- they cannot help themselves.
- → reply #1 “The wargs are skinned and the honey is drawn. Six pelts, three combs.” (if
q_brn_c4) - → reply #2 “Still working the meadow. The bees are winning.”
entry #2
*He turns the pelts over once with a paw-broad hand, then nods* Fair work, and the honey besides. *he counts gold into your palm and adds a wrapped comb from the stores* My father kept this garden with his own hands; it is good to see it kept still. The wargs will be back tomorrow -- they always are.
- → reply #3 “Until tomorrow, Grimbeorn.”
entry #3
*Grimbeorn the Old looks up from a broken hive-board, and his eyes are not entirely a man's* Wargs in the bee-meadows -- a whole raiding pack of them, drunk on my father's honey and bolder every night. I have hives to mend and no hands to spare. Draw the honey from the three great hives about the homestead and the Carrock, kill six of the raiders the broken hives call in, and I will pay you from Beorn's own stores. Once each day, no more.
- → reply #4 “I will tend the garden. Wargs and honey both.”
- → reply #5 “Where do the hives stand?”
- → reply #6 “Bees and wargs are not my trade. Good day.”
entry #4
*He grunts approval* Good. The hives stand in hollow stumps -- one here in the garden, two up on the Carrock heights. Crack one open and keep your blade loose: the wargs come running at the smell of broken comb. Six pelts and three combs, then find me here.
- → reply #7 “Blade loose and boots laced. I'm off.”
entry #5
*He jerks a thumb at the meadow and the great rock beyond* Three hives: one in the garden here, two on the Carrock -- the lesser height and the greater. The honey is yours to cut; the bees will forgive you by winter. But every broken hive sings to the wargs like a dinner-horn, so the killing and the harvesting are one job, not two. Six pelts, three combs, and gold from the stores when it is done.
- → reply #8 “Then I'll take the work. The garden will be tended.”
- → reply #9 “I will think on it.”
entry #6
*He is already reaching for the next hive-board* Go then. Mind the bees, mind the wargs, and leave the deer alone -- they are my father's guests.
- → reply #10 “The deer are safe from me. The wargs are not.”
entry #7
*Grimbeorn looks you over the way a farmer weighs a spring lamb* No. These wargs have dragged down grown Beornings, and I will not send a green blade to feed them. Put twelve seasons of fighting behind you, then come ask me again about the garden.
- → reply #11 “As you say, Grimbeorn.”
entry #8
*The Lord of the Beornings watches you in silence, wide as a door and patient as winter* Eat your fill at my board, stranger, and trouble nothing in the garden.
- → reply #12 “My thanks for the welcome.”
PC replies — flat index
reply #0
Until tomorrow, Lord of the Beornings.
reply #1 →
q_brn_payThe wargs are skinned and the honey is drawn. Six pelts, three combs.
- → entry #2 “*He turns the pelts over once with a paw-broad hand, then nods* Fair work, and t…”
reply #2
Still working the meadow. The bees are winning.
reply #3
Until tomorrow, Grimbeorn.
reply #4 →
q_brn_startI will tend the garden. Wargs and honey both.
- → entry #4 “*He grunts approval* Good. The hives stand in hollow stumps -- one here in the g…”
reply #5
Where do the hives stand?
- → entry #5 “*He jerks a thumb at the meadow and the great rock beyond* Three hives: one in t…”
reply #6
Bees and wargs are not my trade. Good day.
reply #7
Blade loose and boots laced. I'm off.
reply #8 →
q_brn_startThen I'll take the work. The garden will be tended.
- → entry #6 “*He is already reaching for the next hive-board* Go then. Mind the bees, mind th…”
reply #9
I will think on it.
reply #10
The deer are safe from me. The wargs are not.
reply #11
As you say, Grimbeorn.
reply #12
My thanks for the welcome.