Grim Views

A skittering of leaves blows through the door of the guild hall, borne aloft by a chilly wind.  Both leaves and chill seem strangely out of place, as does the jack-o'lantern that sits on a small shelf near the fireplace.  Behind it, you can see a note posted in an unfamiliar, scrawling script.

A chill in the air, the gloom settles in
It's time for the mischief and fun to begin!

Both youngsters and old ones will scream with delight
As monsters and ghouls will both tease and affright

The first of the revels I humbly present
To tease you with longing for more merriment:

The eighteenth begins the first task of the week
A fortnight you'll have to find what I seek.

The list will be posted in these very halls
Then - gather your comrades, for Hallow's End calls!

Your journey will lead you 'cross lands far and wide
Through dangers and dungeons where evils do hide

A prize will be given the one that succeeds
In bringing the most of the items I need

So gather your friends and below sign your name
In two weeks, the list marks the start of this game

Will you trick, or treat?  It's yours to intend
The season is here - come enjoy Hallow's End!

As you finish reading, a gust of wind blows out the jack-o'lantern's candle, and you can swear that you hear a merry cackling echoing high in the rafters.  However, when you turn to find the source of the eerie sound, you are met only with familiar faces, all of whom seem to have heard the strange laughter as well.

((This is going to be a scavenger hunt, to be completed by the end of Hallow's End.  The list of items to acquire will be posted on the 18th.  Any questions, contact me.))

Greebo, intrigued by the voice and the power that disseminated it, scrawls his name at the bottom of the note.

Prizes? I must say I am intrigued!

Albasta

Anaie strolled by, holding a hollowed out gnome head candy bucket she made for her sister and stops to read the note.  Nodding quickly while she read, she dropped the head on the ground and clapped excitedly.

"I love treasah 'unts! But we're gonna need biggah 'ead-buckets!" she exclaimed, as she ran out the front door to go find some dwarves.   Perhaps while she was near Ironforge she would find some gnome fingers to make chocolate covered gnomey-bites again this year.

Kitty Coyotl, hearing Anaie as she appeared to be caught in a moment of utter glee, sat on his haunches beside her and cocked his head to the side.  One ear was flattened against his skull, protecting his valuable hearing from Anaie's dreadful — erm, excited? — shrieks.  Poetry?, he thought to himself, nose scrunching up in apparent annoyance, his eyes drifting along the lines written on the posted message.  Meh.

Poetry aside, Coyotl rolled his shoulders in a feline attempt of a shrug and went to lean his weight again Anaie, except that the tricksy — yes, tricksy — rogue had already run off so fast that she all but left clouds of smoke in her tracks.  Suppose I ought to keep her out of trouble, he thought.  Well... after this nap, and then he loped into his favorite corner, rolled onto his back in a massive stretch and passed right out.

Inzema slunk into the room, keeping to the shadows, hardly visible.  As he neared Coyotl, his eyes locked on the druid, a whir from his goggles as they shifted lens.  The closer he got, the tighter he bit his lip, until he couldn't contain it anymore and started humming his current favorite song.  "Bum-ba-nana-nanana."  ((Sung to the tune of the Mission Impossible theme.))  He clamped his left hand over his mouth, right tossing a robotic rabbit onto the air, and scurried across the room.  He took cover under the table beside the bookshelf next to the fire, bouncing back and forth in a child-like manner, convinced he'd made his getaway unnoticed and entirely unconcerned if he actually had or not.  Once the time it required for him to get bored had passed, about eight and a half seconds, he crawled from beneath the table and examined the note.

"Huh.  Hope it'sss food."  Inzema plopped a tiny clockwork bomb with legs and a key wind-up device on the shelf and strode from the room, cloak billowing behind him.

hmm

The parchment on which the note has been written has grown seamlessly in length.  At the bottom, underneath the original script, is another note penned in the same handwriting.

One week more, one week more!
What surprises lie in store?

A wee wind-up-bomb-turned-kitten mews harmlessly upon the shelf.

Underneath the display, a table has been pushed up against the wall.  On top of the table sit three large unopened chests, each wreathed in a nimbus of soft blue light.  Upon closer examination, each chest also bears an empty nameplate.  The entire table is littered with bright yellows, reds and oranges - fall foliage lending festive decoration to the display.

A stack of parchment has appeared on the shelf - upon closer examination, it is discovered that the list has finally been posted.  Beside the stack of lists, the candle in the jack o'lantern burns merrily.

The three chests have now been opened, though the nameplates remain empty.  They are overflowing with gold pieces, and brightly colored gems peek out here and there from under the coins.  The closer you get to the chests, the brighter the blue glow surrounding each of them gets.

The list is here, the fun begins
The hunt is on - it's Hallow's End!

The tinkling laughter devolves into mad cackling that whisks away on the next gust of chilly wind to blow through the door.

In my mortal days, I often spent my time questing for relics that would add prestige to Lordaeron's empire... perhaps I may have some of these items already.

The hunt begins!

The innkeepers have ceased their handing out of candy, but one remnant of Hallow's End remains - the jack o'lantern on the shelf, smiling down on the table below.  Two of the chests have disappeared and the largest one has grown larger still and is literally overflowing with gold and gems - still wreathed in a soft blue glow.  Even the gold pieces that have fallen on the table and the floor share its magical protection, glowing softly blue.

As you regard the display, you hear the cackling voice for the final time this year.

The wheel turns on toward darker days
So Grim and I must now part ways
'Twas only one who heeded my call
As for the prize - she wins it all!

Upon closer examination of the chest, you can see that the nameplate now bears a piece of yellowed parchment, upon which is scrawled in a delicate script:

Albasta, priestess of the Grim

What?!

It's no fun to win if nobody else tries! I must say I am a little disappointed, but I will try to comfort myself with new treasure.

Well, I did try, but apparently I am not much of a questing knight... at least not for a list as long as that one - not in any amount of acceptable time, that is.