FIXED: Hooded not awarding for Granlin scalp

[Ghast]

o S HP:Wounded MV:Winded >
i
You are carrying:
the death scalp of Lord Granlin slain in Arafel
nine copper pennys
a cup
ten gold crowns
a choice steak

o S HP:Wounded MV:Winded >
give scalp hooded
You give the death scalp of Lord Granlin slain in Arafel to a hooded myrddraal.

o S HP:Wounded MV:Winded >

Beary stops resting, and clambers on his feet.

o S HP:Wounded MV:Winded >

Beary leaves east.

o S HP:Wounded MV:Winded >
Erurk says 'might be back soon'

o S HP:Wounded MV:Winded >

Erurk leaves north.

o S HP:Wounded MV:Winded >

Wong says 'if you wear the supe rheavy combo, which is murgoz chest/helm/leg and then animal fur,
leather half, and gold vambs, you can pull 84 abs and 160pb wimpy with lik 40ish db. '

o S HP:Wounded MV:Winded >

Beary has arrived from the east.

o S HP:Wounded MV:Winded >

Beary sits down and rests.

o S HP:Wounded MV:Winded >

A Dha'vol trolloc has arrived from the east.
The night has begun.
Your heartbeat calms down more as you feel less panicked.

o S HP:Wounded MV:Tiring >

Dovain narrates 'this lag is nuts'

o S HP:Wounded MV:Tiring >
l
The Well
Here lies a deep dark well. The crank that lowers the bucket is heavily
rusted and appears as if it would break at the first touch. A bucket dangles
from a frayed and well used rope. The large granite stones that make up
the sides of the well have become brittle with age and are falling apart.
The ground around the well shows signs of grass sprouting in small clumps
indicating that there must be some water within the well. The courtyard
continues in all directions, and the entrance to the southern keep lies to
the east.
[ obvious exits: N E S W ]
Zone: The Ruined Keep
East: A tall, ramshorned trolloc is here, commanding.
West: A trolloc is here commanding a fist of troops.
A revolting well bubbles with the blood of the sacrificed.
A brown sack has been left here.
A soft leather pouch has been discarded here. [2]
A trolloc cookpot, couched in a bed of coals, boils with human flesh.
A black flame dances here in midair.
A trolloc is here commanding a fist of troops.
Beary the Bearish Trolloc is resting here.
A trolloc is here ruling a group of trollocs.
Trill the Master Havoc is resting here.
Fertilizer the Wolfish Trolloc is resting here.
A young trolloc is here, growling with a deep bloodlust.
A bearish trolloc towers here, its snout drawn into a snarl.
Wong the Wretched Predator is standing here.
A black shadow stallion paws the ground here, fiery-red eyes shining with evil.
A hooded myrddraal, brooding in the shadows, slowly faces you.
A gray haired weaponsmaster stands nearby.

o S HP:Wounded MV:Tiring >
l hooded
Judging from the wholly undisturbed layer of dust on and around the
myrddraal, no one has broken the silence for a small eternity. Until now.
As the myrddraal faces you, he fluidly draws a battered sword with his
one remaining arm - where the other arm should be only a tatter of
unmoving rags now lie.

A hooded myrddraal is in excellent condition.

a hooded myrddraal is using:
<worn on finger> a cheap brass ring
<worn about body> a cloak black as darkness
<worn as shield> a small metal buckler
<wielded> a black sword
<worn on legs> a pair of chainmail leggings
<worn on feet> a black pair of silver-tooled boots

You attempt to peek at the inventory:
the death scalp of Lord Granlin slain in Arafel

o S HP:Wounded MV:Tiring >
pond
You ponder life, the universe, and everything.