Qualitea DND

QUALITEA DND follows the stories of several adventuring parties as guided by DM Daiedalous. Though most of the parties are unaware of each other, divided by thousands of miles and open seas, their actions have consequences that ripple through the planes and affect one another.

[qualiteadnd]

By Sky & By Sea

— A CHWINGA CHASERS ADVENTURE

As their journey aboard the Pride of Halar brings them closer to their quarry, confrontation draws ever near.

The vessel beneath the waves was unlike any magical or inventive marvel the crew of the Pride of Halar had ever seen. Like a great metal snake, it cut through the waves with little concern for the airship — or storm — above.

There was a rumble of thunder in the air, but Felix kept their course true. “Let’s keep those snakes from taking another dive, shall we? To your stations everyone!” As Felix gave the order and two massive harpoons were readied, another cry shattered the air.

Dark shadows flitted through the storm clouds. Indistinguishable at first, another sharp raptor cry pierced the night as two pteranodons swooped towards the ship. They threateningly snapped beaks filled with sharp teeth at the crew before flying back up to the circling flock above.

Lightning lit up the sky for a moment, followed quickly by a thunderous bang and rain began to fall in earnest down on them.

The first mate, a human woman allergic to bullshit, looked between the two threats to their ship. “Captain?”

“We have a mission to see through! Those dastardly dinos will need to get in line! Ready the harpoons!” Felix brought the ship lower just as the metal serpent broke the surface below. “Fire!”

The screeching howl of metal piercing metal was lost beneath the storm’s thunder, but the airship jerked as the tethered harpoons struck the vessel and held tight. Around the ship, the crystals flared brighter, their magic stabilizing to keep the Pride of Halar from being pulled into the sea.

As they began to ascend once more, dragging their underwater cargo along, a burst of fire shot out of a protruding tube from the vessel below. It struck the airship’s hull, bright sparks scaring away another swooping raptor.

Leaving his first mate at the helm, Felix rushed out to the bow of the ship where Sei’ku, Messenger, and Stonebark surveyed the scene. “Righto. You lads know what we’re after, yes? We’ll keep that ship up as long as we can, but there’s not much time. Reclaim the Scarab,” Felix said, hoisting himself up on the rails, “we’ll handle things up here.”

Before any of them could question the halfling, Felix gave a salute and launched himself off of the ship, onto the back of a passing pteranodon. They watched, dumbstruck, as he tried to steer the creature into its flock and away from his ship. Seemingly unfazed by her captain, the first mate shot another of the creatures with her wand, stuck it in her hair, and went back to keeping the Pride of Halar aloft.

Messenger pulled two potions of water breathing from his bag — just in case — and passed them to his breathing companions before getting up onto the rails as well. “You heard him. Let’s go.” He lept fearlessly, catching the harpoon rope on his descent and Stonebark clumsily followed suit.

Sei’ku took one last look at the sky battle happening in the storm around them before diving after his allies.

From a hatch on the ocean-wet deck of the ship, a yuan-ti sorceress spat a curse at them. Her spell missed, but sparked a rage in Messenger from the second his metal feet slammed on the deck. With Nameless unsheathed and divine and primal magic flaring around them, the three dove into battle.

The yuan-ti sorcerers and malison brutes who had come to investigate the breach were first-line defenders and put up enough of a fight to cost the trio precious moments. With the shaman emboldening himself and the warriors, they were able to push their way through to the hatch.

Within the ship, a horrible discordant alarm warned of the assault. Pausing on the ladder, the warforged put a hand on his head and shook it once.

“Messenger? What is it?”

“Klaxon alarms…”

Sei’ku’s brows furrowed. “What?”

Messenger dropped down the last few feet and withdrew Nameless. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Which way?” Stonebark asked, peering into the hall.

Before they could decide, a bolt of fire struck Messenger in the shoulder and the barbarian whirled around to face the next challenge. Like the first wave, these yuan-ti proved to be dangerous. The malisons clashed swords with Messenger, trying to get the upper hand as their sorcerers struck from around corners.

The last standing sorcerer backed up, a spell already desperately weaving between his fingers, but Messenger charged him before it could be cast.

Sei’ku crouched down in front of him, ignoring the blood streaking down his own face now. “What are down these halls?” he asked pointing the way the mage had come.

“Dorms… storage…” he rasped. And when Sei’ku pointed down the opposite hall expectantly he answered, looking past the paladin to the barbarian making threats behind him. “The cats…”

Sei’ku used Pharos to stand up. “We don’t have much time.”

Deciding that Messenger would be better fit to break open prison cells and Sei’ku would have more of an eagle eye in storage, they agreed to split up. Stonebark took a look at Sei’ku, who’d been singed by more than a few fire spells already, and decided to go with him towards the back of the ship.

Breaking away on his own, Messenger headed fore towards the prison. A dozen or so tabaxi sat in their cells with heavy collars wrapped around their throats. A few perked up at the sight of Messenger.

He looked them over. “There a key somewhere?”

One of them shook her head. “Captain has it,” she told him, pointing towards the door further down. “He’s… not likely to hand it over.”

Messenger cracked metallic knuckles and stepped up. “We’re going to make our own key then.” Grabbing the door and bracing against the bars, Messenger raged and yanked the door straight off its hinges. The screech of metal had the tabaxis’ ears flat on their skulls, but they quickly brushed past him out of the cage.

Taking the jail door, Messenger turned towards the captain’s door and wedged it in there. “That should keep him busy.” Noticing a couple of the tabaxi touching their collars he asked, “Want me to get that?”

A beige tabaxi shrank back a little. “We’ve tried… They… don’t come off… cleanly,” he said with a wince.

“But they’ll kill you if you keep them on.”

The tabaxi looked Messenger up and down, blood still staining him from the last encounter. “Maybe not if they’re all dead?”

He grunted and gestured the way he’d come. “Let’s go. We’ll make the mages useful later.”

While Messenger freed the prisoners, Sei’ku led Stonebark towards cargo. Already wounded though, an encounter with a sorceress making her way out of the dorms almost proved deadly for Sei’ku. He was able to strike her with Pharos in the narrow hallway, but her spell slammed into his chest, knocking him off his feet.

Focused on his ally rather than the retreating snakefolk, Stonebark pressed one of his last healing spells into the aasimar and helped him up. “Careful there, friend,” he said, steadying him.

“Thank you, Stonebark… but we need to hurry.”

Pushing on, they found cargo an unorganized mess of stolen goods. And with Detect Magic up, Sei’ku saw the glimmer of the arcane across every shelf. “Well…”

“Do you see your bug?”

Making a noise in the negative, Sei’ku grabbed a sack from one of the shelves and began to quickly shove anything that glittered inside. To his relief, the bag neither bulged nor grew heavier and so he began to sweep whole shelves of magical goods inside without looking.

Suddenly, there was a low boom further up and the whole vessel shook.

They shared a worried look about the continued structural sanctity of this underwater vessel. Neither wanted to test the potions on their belts.

Sei’ku drew the bag shut and hooked it over his shoulder. “Let’s find Messenger.”

They returned to their entry point moments after Messenger and the tabaxi arrived. Messenger glanced at Sei’ku’s new bag and the assimar nodded. “Is that everyone?”

“Everyone that’s left,” offered one tabaxi, shooting a glare at the fallen body of one of the malisons in the corridor.

Understanding, Sei’ku looked back at the ladder they’d come down, the rails charred and broken from their previous engagement. Not to be stopped, Stonebark latched his long branch limbs to the hatch and looked down at the smaller catfolk. “Can you climb?”

Not about to question him, they quickly clambered up the treefolk towards freedom. Sei’ku flew up ahead with one good beat of his wings and perched up on the deck, offering each tabaxi a hand up.

Messenger stood guard below deck as they made their escape, watching for any yuan-ti who would try to stop them. But with only a few tabaxi left, the ship shuddered with nearby cannon fire. If the cannons continued and their own ship was damaged, no one would be getting out of here. Shouting “I’ll handle this,” over his shoulder, Messenger ran back up the hall.

Above, the Pride of Halar was struggling to keep airborne between its aggressive, sunken anchor and the storm-brave pteranodons. Sei’ku began to lead the tabaxi to the one remaining harpoon tethering the two ships. Between the thunder and cannons, he had to shout to be heard. “I’ll help you up! But you need to climb!”

Wet, miserable, and ready to be done with this entirely, the beige tabaxi was the first to step up to the rope and climb under Sei’ku’s guidance.

Back inside, even without the downpour, Messenger was feeling the wear of the assault. Using the last of his energy to go into a final rage, he broke down the door barring him from the ship’s weaponry and surprised the two yuan-ti at the arcane cannon within. One crumpled quickly under his attacks, but the other continued to hiss and fight.

It wasn’t until he pulled Nameless from the lifeless body of the defiant mage did he realize his mistake. The yuan-ti had been less defiant than he was distracting. The first mage still lived, breathing in shallow, bloodied breathes on the floor as she shoved the last of her magic into one final spell.

But rather than blast back, Messenger watched a small, glowing, ember red marble roll from her hand. Dread sank into his hollow stomach and Messenger sprinted back into the hall. “Shit.”

The ship trembled again.

Metal crashed up ahead and Messenger looked up to see a hulking, serpentine form slithering out over the broken cell door. Unlike any of the other yuan-ti they’d encountered before, this one was more snake than man. With a serpent’s body and multiple snake heads all focused on Messenger, the anathema captain charged in a rage of his own.

“Shit!”

“Messenger?” Stonebark called. His attempts to step back into the hall were aborted as Messenger booked it around the corner and started to shove him towards the hatch.

“No time! Need to go!”

Beneath the commotion of the storm, everything moved slowly for a moment, rain impeding every effort made. Sei’ku, flying between the two ships, called for Tabbus’s attention to help the freed tabaxi. Felix, returned to his ship, was shouting orders into the storm even as the last remaining pteranodons circled and shrieked. And Messenger and Stonebark pulled themselves up before the anathema could drag them back in.

For a moment, it seemed almost calm. Like despite the hellish night they’d just endured, they would see their mission through.

And then everything exploded in a terrible instant of intensity. An explosion wracked the vessel beneath the waves, lightning struck the balloon keeping the Pride of Halar aloft, and everything turned painfully white.

Stonebark Fallbreeze — Treefolk Warden Shaman. Played by Malfrost.

[qualiteadnd]

News from Waterdeep

— LETTER FROM THE SWORDS COAST

After a series of disappearances throughout the City of Splendors, Waterdhavians can rest easy. Having found that ghouls were responsible, an increased watch on the City of the Dead has been put into place. Clerics will be reassessing the measures taken to keep the cemetery secure.

It’s still unclear how these undead remained undetected in the process. Unfortunately, those that were found and rescued were fevered from their wounds and have been yet to provide further details.

While it is gristly to describe, the victims who have returned to their families did so in poor health and with devastating wounds — from missing fingers to entire limbs.

The first of the survivors to regain a measure of clarity recounted the acts of three young people responsible for his safety. Two women ( an elf and a halfling ) and a young man, yet to be identified, provided support and appear to be responsible for clearing out the ghouls at the scene.

While three bodies were found at the abandoned tannery east of the City of the Dead, more ghouls may remain. Citizens are asked to remain vigilant as the cemetery’s security is reviewed during this time.

[qualiteadnd]

The Chase is On

— A CHWINGA CHASERS ADVENTURE

With the city still in danger, Sei’ku and Messenger set sail in the pursuit of the yuan-ti and the stolen treasures of Halarahh.

Finding the city in a state of chaos and panic on their return, Sei’ku and Messenger quickly parted ways with Elmuuth and sought out familiar faces and answers. Though the Netyarch was unavailable immediately, they were able to speak quickly with some of the guards. The yuan-ti, seemingly displeased by the city’s return to the area, launched an attack by sea that caught Halarahh unaware.

The threat, to Messenger’s disappointment, had already retreated to the sea once more, but the city remained shook as some fires continued to blaze along the harbor.

Feeling beholden to the city they’d been calling home, the two of them spent the next tenday aiding however they could. Messenger, strong and tireless as he was by design, assisted in efforts to physically rebuild after the fires were put out. With only so much divine healing at his disposal, Sei’ku worked long hours with the healers of the city, bandaging and soothing the injured through more traditional means.

They accepted little payment for their efforts, focused more on seeing the city emerge from the ashes. And so when the Netyarch reached out once more, they answered her call.

The woman before them was tired, but Netyarch Kerime met them as regally as ever. A bandage wrapped around her hand and the shadows beneath her eyes were the only true signs of what she and her people had been through. “I’ve heard you’ve been helping my city. You have my gratitude, but I have yet another task to ask of you,” she said gravely.

“The artifact you recovered with Amara was taken from us. The yuan-ti came in force with a number of enslaved tabaxi and they raided and burned. I will not allow this to stand. Our mages have been tracking them since their strange vessel disappeared beneath the waves. An airship leaves port tomorrow to pursue them towards Chult — with or without you, but I pray it is with. You have aided us significantly these last few months and I would consider it a personal debt if you were to secure the Scarab. I can’t fathom what they want of it, but if they were this determined, it can be for nothing good.”

After assuring her that they would be on the ship by dawn, they asked after any captured in the attack and her own involvement during it.

She offered them a tense smile. “They were after arcane power, even took my finger to take my ring,” she said, with a gesture to her wrapped hand, “but that is, regrettably, all we know. The slaves we captured… they wore barbaric collars. Once the yuan-ti made their escape, those that did not return to the ship were executed remotely.”

Troubled by that knowledge, but no less determined to see the yuan-ti regret their attack on Halarahh, Sei’ku and Messenger made their exits and prepared for the journey.

Sei’ku was used to visions. It was part of the territory with divinity in the blood. His guide, Ithuriel, was not often talkative, but he communicated through dreams.

The night before leaving for Chult, he found himself standing in a dreamscape field of soft purple grain. The valley stretched on, a sea of amaranth planted between distant mountain peaks, with Sei’ku, insignificant and small, at the heart of it. This was familiar.

The fact that he was not alone in this field, that was new. Kneeling before him was a faceless figure cloaked in shadows. Their eyes, or what counted for them, met and a scream echoed through the valley.

Sei’ku woke in his room with a panicked start to empty silence. Just a dream, but even now Ithuriel’s warning echoed in the rapid beating of his heart: beware.

The Pride of Halar was a grand airship powered by six large crystals and kept aloft by a huge canvas balloon the length of the ship. Luckily, the ship hadn’t been docked during the assault. Captained by an excitable halfling man by the name of Felix of Khatz, it was now in commission of the crown to pursue the yuan-ti with the help of mages on board.

Felix was a jovial gentleman who welcomed them both warmly to his ship. With a “Tally ho!” the crew wasted little time in setting off with everyone accounted for. Messenger and Sei’ku met briefly with the mages responsible for scrying their quarry, but there was little either could do until the ship caught up. Even though the yuan-ti had a good head start, the mages promised the Pride of Halar would reach them before they made land.

Over the course of their travel, Messenger began to host a fight club of sorts with the crew. Professing enlightenment through challenge, there was a sense of spirituality in the way he looked at combat. Though Sei’ku often watched from his perch in the masts above, he could appreciate Messenger’s battle thirst in a new light. He didn’t agree — and during bouts of inactivity they lightly butted heads — but it was, in a way, enlightening.

Among the various sailors and Halruaan mages on board was a brown tabby tabaxi. While Messenger and Sei’ku had been recruited to hunt down the yuan-ti, Tabbus had volunteered to aid in the rescue of the tabaxi slaves the yuan-ti had taken. Keeping mostly to himself, however, no one knew too much about him.

As Messenger called another sparring circle together, Tabbus pulled himself up with his staff and approached. Accepting his challenge, he surprised Messenger with how quick he truly was. When the barbarian seemed utterly out of his depth, Sei’ku literally swooped in to try and mitigate. Together the two of them could only just keep up with the monk who eventually rolled back away from the fight.

A little fidgety, Tabbus looked between them now —Messenger with his metal fists still clenched and Sei’ku still holding the form of his own monastic traditions — and nodded mostly to himself. “Quite the tag team,” he said, batting a paw over his ear. “Let’s hope it stands up to whatever we face at the end of this journey.”

With the Pride of Halar expertly navigating the route of their quarry beneath the waves, the ship eventually lowered into the sea and anchored in an island cove. After several long days confined to the ship, Messenger and Sei’ku took advantage of the chance to stretch their legs and ventured out with one of the scouting parties.

The island itself was wild and the only signs of civilized life they found were ancient and forgotten ruins, half carved into the cliffs. With a couple of trinkets recovered and some fresh supplies gathered, they began to hear alarms from the ship.

Breaking from the treeline to the shore, they quickly spotted the issue: a dracoturtle had risen from the depths and didn’t seem keen on this ship in its cove.

Though the ship was already gearing to lift off, the crystals still needed time to charge up. But by the jets of steam the dracoturtle was giving off, they still weren’t moving fast enough. While Messenger seemed ready to wrestle a turtle, no one else was keen on engaging the massive creature.

Thinking fast, Sei’ku asked if anyone could speak draconic, to which Tabbus raised his hand. Looking for ‘stop,’ Sei’ku repeated the harsh word back to Tabbus until he had it right and flew up over the ship with Pharos, his spear. Shouting the draconic word with all the divine power of Command, Sei’ku managed to startle the creature with his audacity long enough for the Pride of Halar to lift out of the water.

Messenger glumly returned Nameless to its sheath. “We could have killed the turtle.”

From the partially loaded ballista he had been struggling to ready, Felix was the only one to share those sentiments.

The next days of travel went by without much fanfare. Before they could catch up to the yuan-ti, however, Felix had them anchor once more to allow everyone one last chance to prepare before they engaged. Feeling pretty prepared to fight and retrieve already, Messenger and Sei’ku explored the coast while keeping an eye out for errant turtles.

But they spotted something else out of place first: a maple tree.

Curious, they investigated and found the tree to be an even stranger oddity than they first guessed. After poking around the bright red leaves, they were surprised to get poked back. The tree — or treant as it were — wasn’t sure what to make of the bird-ish looking and metal men staring back at him and they certainly had no idea what to make of him.

Introducing himself as Stonebark Fallbreeze, he asked what had stranded them on his little corner of nowhere. Explaining they’d come by airship and weren’t stranded, they asked if there were more treefolk like him in there area. He seemed a little out of place.

“No, no. Haven’t seen much of anyone around these parts. Came by ship some years ago, but it’s been rather boring here. And a little too green, to be honest with you folks,” he added, prodding at one of the ferns.

With a glance towards Messenger, Sei’ku offered, “Well, we have a ship. We’re in the middle of something, but if you don’t mind joining us, we should be returning to Halruaa soon.”

Intrigued, the treant shook his root-limbs free of the sandy soil. “Sounds more exciting than anything here. You folks seem better company than the lizards at least.”

Before they could ask, there was a bit of a commotion from deeper in the jungle. The trio moved to investigate — Stonebark putting in a little more effort to keep up with his new companions — and quickly found Captain Felix in a tangle with some lizards [read as: dinosaurs]. They took care of the pack of creatures harassing Felix quick enough, but the roar of an even larger lizard [read as: a tyrannosaur] meant they didn’t get to relax for long.

Despite the reptile’s valiant effort to eat the halfling captain, they managed to put the creature down. With some help from their recently acquired shaman’s own summoned beasts, it was easy going.

“As fun as that was,” Felix said, wiping dinosaur saliva from his everything, “high time we set off. Vessel to catch and all that.” Then Felix really took in the nature of their new friend and tilted his head back. “And, ah, who might you be? A new ally in our quest, perhaps? Jolly good!”

To the surprise of no one, Felix was more than accommodating in letting the treant board his ship. And without a draconic beast hastening their departure this time, the Pride of Halar soon returned to the sky.

But as night fell and storm clouds rolled in, Felix and the mages remained on deck and kept all hands at the ready. “Keep sharp, folks!” the captain warned. “We’ll be descending on those slippery snakes momentarily!”

And as their cloud cover parted, the crew could finally see what the mages had been scrying since before the journey began: a massive, metallic underwater ship just beneath the waves.

Stonebark Fallbreeze — Treefolk Warden Shaman. Played by Malfrost.

[qualiteadnd]

Some Dragons & Dungeons

— A CHWINGA CHASERS ADVENTURE

Our warriors respond to a dragon approaching Halarahh, only to fly off with him to handle a greater threat to the city.

It wasn’t until the city alarms were raised a few weeks later that Messenger’s and Sei’ku’s paths really crossed again. With the sight of a dragon flying directly towards the city, the alarms were merited. Pitching himself from the balcony of his tower room, Sei’ku took flight, rushing to meet the the city’s spellswords at the wall and offer aid. Anticipating a fight, Messenger booked it with Nameless to the wall through more traditional means.

Keeping aloft near the guards after passing the barbarian overhead, Sei’ku kept his spear in hand as the dragon drew ever closer. In the bright Halruaan sun, the metallic shine of his scales were blinding. While that was enough to keep the spellswords from firing on sight, it didn’t keep them from readying attacks.

The dragon slowed as it approached. “In peace,” the brass dragon said, landing gently down on the wall. “I come as a friend with news from the plains.”

“What kind of news?” the captain asked.

This close, they could tell the creature was young, not yet an adult by dragon standards, but still not something to be trifled with. A dragon’s ire, even a brass one, was not something the city wanted to incur while the priestess worked with the Scarab.

“There is a blue dragon moving in on my lands north of here. He is a disagreeable sort and not the kind of neighbor a city like yours would want.”

“Done,” said Messenger.

Sei’ku glanced over, but said nothing, looking back towards the proper guards of the city first.

The half-elf captain shook her head. “We can’t spare the manpower for something like that, not until our own fortifications are complete. A blue dragon is all the more reason to hasten our efforts here.” She looked back at Messenger and Sei’ku. “Do what you like with the brass, but the guard will focus on matters closer to home.”

The dragon seemed disappointed by the refusal, but turned his gaze on the other metallic and winged ones. “What of you two then? You look as though you’re considering my words. If you help, I will gladly return the favor.”

“Done,” Messenger repeated. He glanced over at Sei’ku who, so far, had proven himself to be reliable in battle. “Want to go kill a dragon?” A snort from the brass dragon sent his cloak fluttering. “A blue dragon?”

“Introductions first, perhaps?”

“Ah, forgetting my manners. It’s been awhile. I am Elmuuth.” After receiving both their names, he relaxed his wings, creating space for them to reach his back. “Now if you don’t mind, there is a blue I would like out of my lair before he wrecks the place, quickly now, gentlemen.”

Clambering onto his back, they prepared to leave with little else but their weapons. Sei’ku asked the guard to tell the Netyarch they were dealing with draconic matters and would return when they could. Then, Elmuuth took to the skies once more and Halarahh quickly fell away behind them.

Elmuuth was endearingly chatty on their flight, asking after all sorts of matters from beyond the plains of Halruaa. They spoke a little of the city and their recent prowess in battle, but neither volunteered much about their homes. Elmuuth was happy to listen regardless and told them more about the blue who had begun encroaching on his lands.

“Once that upstart started playing dirty, well, reinforcements seemed in order.”

They flew on for the rest of day, Elmuuth’s wings carrying them farther than they could have ever reached on foot in that time. When the conversation lulled, Sei’ku would take flight himself alongside Elmuuth. He received a few rumbling chuckles from the dragon when he slowed to allow the aasimar to catch up.

As night began to descend, however, so did Elmuuth. The unlikely trio landed among some shadowed ruins in the plains and set up camp.

What Elmuuth hadn’t realized when he’d landed ( or if he had, he kept it to himself ), was that the ruins were home to a small thieving crew. Unfortunately for the crew, Sei’ku and Messenger alone would have been enough to handle them. Sei’ku, Messenger, and a dragon made their attempted banditry suicidal at best. “Well,” Elmuuth, huffed as the line of fire still smoldered, “that was rather rude.”

The next morning they set off early enough to reach Elmuuth’s lair by midday. Rather than fly them to the front door, he took them a small entrance that he helped widen with his claws. “If that interloper catches wind of me it will spell trouble. Get the drop on him alone and I shall aid you when I can.”

While that was less than encouraging, they agreed and made their way inside. Before Sei’ku could offer to light Nameless as usual, Messenger spoke a command that illuminated the huge blade — Angus’s enchantments paid off. Together they navigated the lair, eradicating strange blue kobolds and draconic monstrosities in their path.

As they pushed deeper into the caverns, however, they began to come across various bits of gold and gems that Messenger subsequently looted. Sei’ku ruffled his feathers in annoyance. “You know this probably belongs to Elmuuth. These are his caves.”

“But what if the other one brought it to redecorate? Finders keepers then.”

This argument puttered on and off the further they went, until they found the heart of the lair, seemingly empty of anything but treasure. While small piles of gold and treasures lined the walls, a mountain of coins and trinkets dominated the center of the cavern.

When Messenger veered towards one of the few chests near the entry to try and open it, Sei’ku attempted to cut him off. “We do not have time for this,” he hissed. “There are bigger things to worry about.”

Neither noticed as the gold behind them began to shift and spill, revealing blue scales hidden beneath. But the once slumbering blue dragon had certainly noticed them.

A line of white hot lightning lit up the cavern as it streaked towards them both. While Messenger was able to dodge most of the attack, Sei’ku took the full brunt of it and collapsed in a pile of singed feathers.

“Alright. Bigger problems.” After half forcing a healing potion down Sei’ku’s throat, Messenger turned and roared at the dragon, going into a rage.

Even once Sei’ku had managed to shake off the static and pick himself back up, dealing with a young dragon was a challenge. He took to the air, moving to flank the beast with Messenger, but they were still just two men against a pissed off dragon.

It swiped and growled at them, threatening to make meals of them both, and for a moment seemed ready to make good on its threats.

But as the blue dragon readied another devastating breath, the wall of the cavern collapsed in a cloud of smoke and a streak of orange flames illuminated the room. Snorting smoke and embers, Elmuuth pushed his way into his lair and let out a deep roar.

Together, the three of them pushed the blue into a corner and Messenger pierced Nameless through the scales of its chest. It fell with a heavy thud, lightning dying in its maw.

On withdrawing the sword, a strange streak of blue appeared beneath the blood, running down the center of the metal. Messenger examined it as the dragon’s blood slicked off, then wordlessly slid Nameless into its sheath.

“Well,” Elmuuth huffed, looking down disdainfully at the other dragon. “Thank you for that. I take it you cleared out the rest of the interlopers? They would have no doubt come running otherwise.”

“We did,” Sei’ku said as he quietly slapped divine healing into himself and Messenger. “We caught them off guard.”

“Indeed. I doubt they knew of that entrance, but it is my lair.” They glanced at the hole in said lair he’d tunneled his way through. Elmuuth sighed. “I shall have to fix that.”

After collecting a few trophies from the blue dragon ( and trying not to disturb their brass companion too much ), Messenger once again began to examine the treasures in Elmuuth’s lair a little too closely.

“That is mine,” Elmuuth said, eyeing him. “While I might be willing to part with… some of my collection as a show of gratitude, there is something else I would rather like to show you. Follow me.” The dragon turned around like a large brass cat and led them down a far tunnel.

With a shared glance, Messenger and Sei’ku followed.

He led them deeper into his lair and into what seemed like an ancient temple. Carved into the sandstone were aged pillars with unrecognizable iconography that Elmuuth deftly wove his way between. And at the very back of the cavernous temple sat a pool. The brass dragon settled down beside it with a fanged grin. “I’ve brought some people for you to meet.”

Before either could question who they were meeting, a voice spoke and filled the very air around them. “It’s been a long time since I met anyone new.” The voice, they realized, was the pool itself.

With awkward introductions made, the pool admitted to not quite knowing what it was, just that it had been here as long as these caves. It was divine in some way, or possibly just divine adjacent. And once, people use to visit. But then they stopped and what felt like eons of loneliness had passed before Elmuuth had discovered it. It had forgotten so much in that time.

( Several insight checks proved it seemed honest enough. )

But despite not knowing its own origins, it knew it wanted to — and could — help Messenger and Sei’ku in some way. “If you drink from the pool and promise to take part of me with you when you leave, I’ll grant you each a boon. I’d really love to see beyond this cave.”

Messenger and Sei’ku had vastly different curiosities about the pool.

“What kind of boon?”

“Are you… safe to drink?”

To both questions they got the mental equivalent of a shrug. “Not sure. But it’ll be neat to find out.”

After some debate, the two dipped their hands into the pool. With one last glance at Elmuuth, who seemed just as curious about this as the pool did, the aasimar and the warforged and drank.

Several hours later, they woke up on the sandy floor, still beside the pool.

“What happened?” Sei’ku asked, sitting up.

“Seems the pool has a little bit of a kick,” Elmuuth chuckled, his head resting on his claws from where he watched them. “But you two look alright.”

And they were. Sei’ku felt a little heartier after drinking from the pool, while Messenger had the strange sense that should he ever need aid, he had the divine power to call it to him.

After granting their boons, the pool seemed a bit sleepy and asked again that they keep some of its waters with them on their journey. They cleaned out empty potion bottles, filling them with the pool’s water. It looked no different from any other bottle of water, but they each secured them safely in their bags.

With that settled and some trinkets exchanged — namely Sei’ku’s strange keris and some oddly ancient looking coins — Elmuuth led them back out to the plains. Wanting to repair his lair as soon as possible, he wasted no time in flying them back to Halarahh. It was still a good day’s journey, but before they even reached the city they knew something was wrong.

Halarahh was ablaze.

[qualiteadnd]

Into the Ziggurat

— A CHWINGA CHASERS ADVENTURE

With the city of Halarahh trying to reclaim its security in the area, High Priestess Amara requests her saviors assist in the recovery of an ancient relic.

In the days following their rescue of the priestess, Messenger and Sei’ku only saw glimpses of each other in passing around the University. Neither were the sort to seek companionship and so brief nods were all they shared.

( At one point in passing, however, Messenger chucked a small stone at Sei’ku, which the monk caught quickly between his talons. “You can use that better than me,” the warforged explained, leaving him with the clear spindle Ioun stone — a trinket that allowed its wearer to go without food and water when necessary. )

And neither were surprised to see the other after summons from the Netyarch arrived at each of their rooms.

Waiting for them in the hall before the Netyarch and her council was High Priestess Amara and a handsome elven man. “How familiar are you two with the history of this city?” the Netyarch asked once greetings were made.

Though they knew of the city’s recent return from planes unknown, the details of Halarahh’s history were lost on them.

“Yes, when the Spellplague began we feared what would happen. Measures were made to protect the people of Halarahh until it was safe to return. It worked, yes, but now we have the long task of reestablishing ourselves in our own lands. First and foremost, we need to rebuild the protections that once stood around this city.”

Amara turned to them and the elf. “There is a holy relic of ours protected deep in a ziggurat to the west. Scouts have reported activity in the area of the ziggurat and I fear what might have taken up residence there since we’ve been gone. Messenger, Sei’ku, both of you have proven yourselves capable at dealing with unwanted company. Kaireel has shown exemplary magics at the University and has already agreed to escort me into the ziggurat, but I would be amiss to not ask for your assistance.”

Like Messenger and Sei’ku, Kaireel was not native to the area, having traveled to the city to study. And while some of the Netyarch’s council seemed to believe the city’s own spellswords should be accompanying the priestess, Amara trusted Sei’ku, Messenger, and Kaireel as her guard for this mission.

With the warriors readily on board, the party agreed to set out at dawn.

Their travel to the ziggurat was mostly uninterrupted as they followed the eastern coast. A surprise attack by were-jackals in the night was avoided by Messenger’s unerring vigilance and the three fighters dispatched them with ease. While removing the bodies from their camp, Sei’ku asked Amara if she believed these were the same threats that awaited them in the ziggurat.

“No, I don’t think so. Honestly, I’ll be surprised if we find anything inside at all. The ziggurat is supposed to be highly guarded, it’s why our ancestors hid the Scarab down there to begin with. But scouts saw signs of yuan-ti residence there and that… that is concerning. The sooner we return the Scarab to Halarahh the better.”

Half reclaimed by the land around it with foliage clinging to the carved stones, the ziggurat they approached remained an imposing structure even after all these years. Amara explained that to reach the Scarab at the heart of the ancient tomb, they’d need to work their way down. After a brief rest at the foot of the ziggurat, they began the long climb — save for Sei’ku, whose wings allowed him to scout the entry above as they caught up.

Though Amara was prepared to crack the seal on the temple, the door at the top gave way easily, its mechanisms already opened. She sucked in a breath and glanced at the men with her. “That’s what I feared. Be on your guard, everyone.”

With a couple of cantrips cast to illuminate the way, they ventured down into the tomb. It’s abandonment was obvious in the dust and cobwebs they pushed through on the first tier, but they found soon enough they were not alone.

The ziggurat’s long term inhabitants were not happy to be disturbed and so Sei’ku, Messenger, and Kaireel faced off against the tomb’s mummified priests. Luckily, their Dreadful Glare had no effect on Sei’ku and Kaireel was able to use the mummy’s disappointment against them, setting fire to their dry wrappings with a Fire Bolt.

Though Kaireel seemed quite pleased with his quick thinking magic, Sei’ku seemed thoroughly unimpressed and urged them all to stay vigilant as they proceeded past the smoldering remains.

Further mummies and the occasional wayward snake were dealt with in a similar manner. After setting off the first trap by mistake, they took care to watch their step the deeper they went, using their weapons to tap out the floor ahead. Pits were crossed with quick leaps and careful assists were offered to the less nimble among them.

Any interesting looking pot or chest they came across on their descent, however, Messenger thoroughly investigated and looted. Occasionally, he stuck his sword in a pot before sticking his hand in there, but always while disregarding the looks Amara kept shooting his way. “You do know these are my ancestors you’re taking from, right?” she eventually asked.

“...Are they going to need it?”

Muttering “I am not seeing this,” half to herself, she returned to the inscriptions on the walls in an attempt to speed this up.

Deeper into the ziggurat, they encountered their first real sign of pressing danger. Beyond the snakes and the occasional mummy still lingering, there were others in the ziggurat with them. The yuan-ti purebloods they encountered in one of the lower chambers were perhaps even more upset than the mummies about being disturbed. They attacked instantly, leaving them no chance to question their reason for trespassing.

As Messenger pulled Nameless free of one their corpses and Kaireel shook off the last tendrils of the snakefolk’s spellwork, Amara shone her light down another hall. “We need to keep moving, quickly.” As her light fell over the body of another yuan-ti, one less quick in avoiding the ziggurat’s blade traps, she added, “Stay on guard, please.”

Though they were able to make good time with Amara’s help, the ziggurat was still designed to confuse and impede intruders. Beyond the dozens of traps they encountered — pits, bolt walls, and swinging blades among others — they still stumbled into dead ends and found themselves looping in circles. Briefly, they were even trapped in a room with nothing but dozens of snakes.

Each delay worried Amara, but as they found the next dusty staircase down, her anxiety only seemed to increase. They were nearing the final chamber where the Guardian and the Scarab resided.

They moved quietly, though the halls and rooms they twisted through on the higher levels were absent down here. Now they moved through ceremonial chambers and past the detailed carvings of the ancient Halruaans. A yuan-ti stood guard near an archway, but they took him out swiftly and lowered his body quietly before any alarm could be raised.

In what could only be the grand tomb at the end of the ziggurat, they could hear the hissing of another yuan-ti. But with all their lights extinguished, they couldn’t make out what waited up ahead, even with darkvision. Confident it would need to be dealt with regardless, they prepared to attack.

Sei’ku led them inside, a burst of radiance immediately lighting the aasimar and the chamber up, as well as drawing the attention of the creature within. And creature it was. Rather than the humanoid snakefolk they’d become familiar with, a serpentine abomination turned away from the casket it’d been trying to open and hissed dangerously at them all.

Having done his job a little too well, Sei’ku shouldered most of the initial might of the abomination. Knocked down and out of the air, he staggered back up and focused primarily on defending Amara while Messenger and Kaireel hammered the serpent with steel and spells.

The abomination hit hard, but they hit harder.

It tried to curse them with a final hiss, but Messenger swung Nameless through its neck and watched the snake form fall and crumple. And as light begin to emit from the casket behind them, they realized it had still succeeded in something down here.

The three fighters all readied attacks as something from within pushed the casket open, but Amara ran up and stilled their blades. As a huge and ancient naga emerged from the casket, she whispered, “He’s with us.”

“Who disturbs my sleep?” the naga asked. All four of them glanced towards the pieces of yuan-ti abomination. “Ah. Good riddance. He’s been trying to get into my casket for days.” The naga turned his gold, serpentine gaze to Amara. “It has been some time since a priestess has come to see me. What service do you require?”

Amara, with her serpentine staff in hand, stood up straighter. “I request the Scarab that my ancestors trusted you with, Guardian. Halarahh requires its protection.”

The Guardian considered her for a moment before disappearing into the untold depths of the gilded casket. After a moment, he returned and held out with his tail a beautifully designed scarab of wrought gold and bronze and lapis lazuli inlay. Amara took it with a bow of her head and a thanks as he looked out over the others. “Anything else? Or can I return to my nap?”

“A reward wouldn’t hurt,” Messenger suggested, ignoring the elbow he received from Sei’ku.

The naga looked out around the room they stood in. Without someone trying to kill them and cantrip lights illuminating the space at last, the party could see his chamber also served as the primary vault of the ziggurat. Golden treasures of all kinds lined the walls and spilled across the floor. “Help yourselves, I suppose, I have no need for this.”

“Within reason,” Amara added.

With a tired nod, the Guardian flicked his tail and an unseen door slid open with a puff of stale air and dust. “When you’re done, the door will seal behind you.”

Messenger began to slide coins and strange looking artifacts into his Haversack while Kaireel began to collect his own payment. Sei’ku limited himself to a few decorative gold bands and focused on relieving the abomination of his decorative belt.

Draped over the lip of the casket, the Guardian’s continued yawning and Amara’s foot tapping at the door urged them to speed things up. And as promised, as they stepped through the dusty passage and into fresh air at the base of the ziggurat, the stones slid seamlessly back into place, leaving no trace of the door’s existence.

They made good time on their return and with the Scarab of Protection in hand, Amara seemed more willing to share some of the stories of it and her people over campfires. Their return to the Netyarch was met with warm, thankful greetings, and she promised them continued access to the University and its mages.

Pleased with this, Kaireel mentioned returning to the research that brought him to Halarahh and excused himself from their company.

“You two have proven yourself quite reliable,” Netyarch Kerime said to the warriors who remained. “I look forward to the day you consider Halaraah your homes.”

This time when Messenger took his things down to the mages and enchanters of the University, Sei’ku accompanied him. “Oh hello, sir!” greeted the young enchanter. “Are you back for another upgrade already? Who’s your friend?”

“Depends what you have to offer. But I have some things that need identifying. So does Sei’ku, I think.”

Sei’ku nodded. “If you don’t mind.”

“Certainly, sirs! Let’s see what you have there,” Angus said, patting the desk between them eagerly. There was some twisting and examining of each item they passed to Angus before he could confidently name each piece put before him.

“These look very neat, Mister Messenger. This is an Alchemy Jug, it creates different liquids upon request. This ewer is a little unusual, though. It has a whole lot of transfiguration magic in it, sir — maybe something a little more alchemical? — but I’ve never seen something like it before. If I’m right, and I bet I am, it should be able to create potions from water.”

Messenger considered both items for a moment, nodded, and shoved them back into his Haversack for safe keeping.

Angus then inspected the pieces Sei’ku had laid out for him. “Well, this one is a little spooky, but it doesn’t seem magical,” Angus said, putting the lamia’s keris down gingerly, “but this? This is a Necklace of Fireballs, Mister Sei’ku. If you throw one of the six beads, it casts Fireball.”

“What happens if you throw the whole string?”

“A way big Fireball, sir.” Angus set it back down near the keris and then picked up the beaded belt. “And this is an Onyx Belt, it will let you hit things really good with your bare hands. And I think that’s everything? Unless you wanted to talk enchantments?”

This time, a giant sword and a spear were both placed on the table in front of him. And Angus clapped his hands and got to work.

Kaireel — Sun Elf. Eldritch Knight Fighter. Played by Malfrost.

Continued thanks to Griffin McElroy for the best boy enchanter we have.

[qualiteadnd]

News from Suzail

— LETTER FROM THE SEA OF FALLEN STARS

Tragedy struck Suzail and all of Cormyr this past Ches with the assassination of King Baerovus Obarskyr. Culprits yet unknown are believed to have entered the palace through arcane means under the mask of preparations for the annual Planting Festival.

The Royal Mage Caladnei found the king’s personal guards slain outside his chambers and rushed to his aid, but was overwhelmed by the dark sorceress she encountered within. While she was restrained, the king was tragically killed. Obscured by unnatural shadows during the event, the sorceress could not be identified and investigations remain ongoing.

The motives for this terrible act remain debated. King Baerovus’s personal treasury was also found emptied of privately kept family relics as well.

It is yet unclear if the sorceress worked alone or had help from within the palace, but any information that leads to the capture of her or her associates will be rewarded by the Cormyr crown.

Princess Raedra remains the sole surviving member of the royal family and will be returning from her military campaign. She is to be crowned queen on the first of Tarsahk following nationwide mourning.

[qualiteadnd]

The Princess is in Another Cave

— A CHWINGA CHASERS ADVENTURE

When the high priestess of Halarahh is stolen away in the night, two unlikely warriors are hired to return her safely.

When the Spellplague hit, those that could fled. The wizards of Halarahh fled further than most, however, transporting their entire city to another plane. But in their absence over the years, a myriad of peoples and creatures moved into the southern plains they had called home, making their fairly recent return a little jarring to some. But the city, with its incredible mastery of the arcane, was still flourishing and drawing the attention of travelers to its harbors once more.

A young warrior looking to test his strength, Sei’ku had been traveling east from Chult, following the wisdom of his angelic guide. Unlike the rest of his kind, the young aasimar’s golden wings were flesh and bone, gifting him with flight, but making it impossible to blend in. The arcane city of Halarahh with its tall towers and sky ships was a pleasant surprise after the flat lands of his travel. He’d spent more than a few days at a small inn, taking up small adventuring jobs around the area, and exploring the high reaches of the city.

Winged and armed with both his talons and a shining, curved spear, it was only a matter of time before he caught someone of importance’s eye. On his tenth day in the city, he was asked to meet with the wizard queen, Netyarch Kerime, in the palace and the paladin readily accepted.

As he entered the chamber hall, he was met with not only the Netyarch and her council, but with a very large warforged wielding an even larger sword. Messenger and Sei’ku gave each other appraising looks, but were called to attention by Netyarch Kerime.

She informed them that word of their prowess had made its way through the city and back to her. With Halarahh still in a delicate position in the region, she had use for two fighters such as themselves, as she could not afford to spare anymore of her own spellswords on the task when the city still needed their protection. Two visiting warriors, making names for themselves with their might, were exactly what she needed.

“Several nights ago,” she told them, “our high priestess was taken from within the city. Those we sent after her have yet to return and I grow increasingly worried. You are not from Halarahh, you are strangers and not beholden to me, but I ask that you do me this favor and know I will return it kindly should you return my daughter to me.”

Sei’ku bowed his head and swore he would do what he could to see her safely returned. Messenger, encouraged by the prospects of both a fight and a reward, agreed as well.

A gentleman stepped forward and introduced himself as Gideon, an archwizard of the University within the city. He informed the two warriors that their scrying magic had led to a cave to the north, a two days journey from the city. Last they had seen, High Priestess Amara was still alive, but they worried for how long if something was not done.

With this information, Sei’ku and Messenger headed out of the city gates, neither doing more to prepare for the journey ahead of them than grab their weapons and go. Their journey north was a quiet one, both in terms of safety and socializing. Neither was the chatty sort and so despite their many differences and only recent acquaintance, they fell into an easy companionship.

Messenger didn’t ask about the wings. Sei’ku didn’t ask about the giant mecho-arcane thing. And they focused on the road ahead of them.

After a two day journey, with Sei’ku scouting from the skies and Messenger watching guard through the nights, they came across a cave entrance that matched the descriptions Gideon had given them. After descending into the subterranean darkness of the cavern, Sei’ku touched his hand to Messenger’s giant blade and cast Light, turning the massive sword into a beacon.

A short way into the cave, they found the looted bodies of two Halarahhan spellswords who’d come after Amara and they knew they were on the right path. Sei’ku said a short prayer for them and they pressed on, ready and alert.

Things weren’t quiet for long, however, and the two quickly came across a trio of thri-keen, humanoid insects that coordinated their attack in a chittering language. Ready for a fight, Messenger swung his massive blade, Nameless, at the nearest one and dove in. Sei’ku took to what heights the cavern allowed him and struck the bugs from above.

In this manner, they fought off a number of the thri-keen as they progressed through the cavern. And Sei’ku quickly learned his companion was something of a hoarder as he rage-looted every corpse after each fight. Sei’ku himself was not terribly interested in picking the dead clean and simply stood back, offering what healing was needed.

Though Sei’ku was more deliberate and careful while Messenger wanted to hit things hard until they died, the two found respect for each other’s skill with their weapons. After a quick rest, the two proceeded deeper into the caverns, leaving a trail of insect corpses in their wake.

After finding some glittering stones in one of the stalagmites, Messenger moved to pry them free of the rock. “We have more important matters to attend, Messenger,” Sei’ku reminded him, but his words fell on mostly deaf ears. Sei’ku stood on reluctant guard, feathers ruffled, as Messenger filled his bag with the precious stones.

In combat, they made a good pair. Out of combat, it was already clear their priorities were not exactly aligned.

The deeper they proceeded in the cavern, the warier they became, still unsure what it was that had stolen the priestess from the city. The thri-keen were annoying, but not particularly clever or subtle enough to whisk her away in the night.

In one of the caverns they explored, they came across a deep, dark pit and a large crack in the stone wall. The beacon of Messenger’s blade and their not exactly stealthy presence summoned two fire newts and a large salamander from the darkness.

To their relief, the salamander was already wounded heavily and, though it was still not an easy fight for them, that gave them the long term advantage. The body of another spellsword, with warped and melted armor, and the charred remains of a camp told them not all had been so lucky against the beasts.

But still there was no sign of the priestess. Wanting to nurse their burns and rest before going further, they made their own camp near the slain nest. Messenger sat watching the pit through the night, but nothing else climbed out.

Come morning, they scavenged what they could from the camp and nest, including a broken necklace, and then pushed on. Through the day and with a few more thri-keen encounters, Sei’ku continued to mutter over Messenger’s pack rat tendencies with shiny stones. But at the sight of blood staining the sandstone ahead, they readied their blades together.

A pile of bloodied bones from all manner of creatures, ranging from ancient to uncomfortably fresh, sat in the center of a high cavern. And though their alarms were raised, the sight of a young woman laying prone before it urged them quickly forward.

Dressed in red robes, with a serpentine staff dropped beside her, the high priestess did not move as they neared. Without hesitation, the familiar glow of Sei’ku’s healing magic began to radiate at his talons when another figure staggered from the shadows.

“Don’t get near her!” cried a second Amara.

Before they could consider heeding her warning, the prone priestess’s eyes flashed open, revealing her monstrous nature. The false Amara’s form shifted into that of a lamia as she struck out at the paladin who’d come to her aid.

Struck across the chest with her dagger, Sei’ku recoiled and Messenger rushed in.

“My staff! She stole my staff!” the true Amara shouted as the fight broke out. Sei’ku managed to slide past the clashing warforged and distracted monstrosity long enough to throw it to the priestess. Armed again, Amara blessed the two warriors and supported them through the battle from afar.

Outnumbered but still formidable, the lamia tried to curse, charm, and cut any who neared her in the fight and gave back as good as she got. There was, however, nothing she could do to stop Nameless from eventually piercing her through. She collapsed into a heap before the pile of bones.

“That horrible monster,” Amara said, “dragged me out here. I just… I want to be home,” she sighed, leaning heavily on the staff in her hands. “Did the Netyarch send you?”

“Your mother is worried,” Sei’ku told her, spending a small bit of his depleted healing magic on her with a careful touch.

She nodded and looked between her two saviors. “I don’t know how well I can keep up, but I am… so done with this cave.”

Raiding the lamia’s corpse and lair, they found a number of more stones, some of which appearing less natural than the others. Messenger forced the majority of it into his bag as Amara watched, bemused and bewildered, from where she rested. Sei’ku picked up the twisted keris that the lamia had used against him and slid it into his belt before pocketing a few tiger eye stones that had caught his attention in Messenger’s looting.

And with that, they made their slow way through the caves, back to the surface. Taking a quick rest in the fresh air, Sei’ku shared his rations with Amara before they made the slow trip back to Halarahh. Though there was slightly more conversation with Amara among them, the silence that persisted was mostly comfortable.

Netyarch Kerime immediately took their audience on their return to the city, grateful to see her daughter safe and sound. Though she attempted to maintain her nobility and decorum, her relief in seeing Amara, scraped and bruised but alive, was unfettered.

“I promised to return this favor in kind,” Kerime said, as Amara excused herself to her chambers. “You have been guests of Halarahh and now you will be guests of mine. I will arrange rooms with the University for you both, even one in the towers should that interest you, Sei’ku. They will be yours as long as you see fit to stay in Halarahh.”

The idea of a room above the city sat incredibly well with the paladin, in fact, and he bowed deeply, wings flaring out, as he expressed his thanks.

With another look over at the barbarian and his bulging bag of loot the Netyarch added, “And perhaps we can do something about that bag of yours, Messenger. There is an enchanter with the University, I’ll send word to expect a visit from you.”

Polite bows and gratitude were exchanged once more and the two adventurers exited the palace hall. With neither being creatures of many words, they nodded to each other and parted ways; with Messenger on his way to meet the enchanter and Sei’ku off to see what lodgings the University had to offer.

While Messenger might have expected to be meeting with someone like Gideon again, instead he met a young mage, visiting the from afar, by the name of Angus. Eager to help, the wizard identified some of Messenger’s finds — a few Ioun stones hidden in his haul — and expanded the limits of his bag by replacing it with a Haversack.

“You’re good with enchantments?” he asked the boy.

“Well, I do try, sir,” said Angus.

Messenger nodded and removed the massive blade from his back, making the desk between them rattle as he dropped it on top. “Let’s talk enchantments then.”

Thank you Griffin McElroy for inspiring our DM, more than a few parts of this campaign, and, of course, Angus McDonald.

[qualiteadnd]

Wedding Bells

— A WATERDEEP IRREGULARS ADVENTURE

Having been begged to wed the two young lovers, Grumbar holds a ceremony to unite them ( ft. wedding design by Bonu ) and makes a new acquaintance.

The next two days saw the gang’s little home turned into a designer’s nightmare. With his axe still strapped to his back, Bonu came to and from at all hours to make deliveries and preparations. Having recruited Edwin to his mission, the two had become quickly acquainted with every florist and baker in town.

Grumbar and Keros kept out of the way, opting instead to simply watch the hurricane from a safe corner of the parlor.

“You gonna say anything about where you were?” Keros asked over a milky cup of tea as Bonu paraded through with what could only be described as an ungodly amount of flowers.

At his side, Grumbar sipped at his own tea. “Nope.”

While Bonu and Edwin came and went, wiping demon blood off his robes was about the extent of preparation that Grumbar went through.

On the agreed upon day of the affair, Keros was finally roped into assisting. He helped Bonu create his both tasteful and gaudy vision of flowers, ribbons, and cake in the small garden beside the City of the Dead. Arches and bouquets, Bonu had managed to turn the graveyard adjacent space into the couple’s perfect church.

This was, of course, all in the shadow of an actual church near the cemetery. A small wooden structure, the priest there had also been warned against wedding the two, but from the doorway he smiled at the little set up and arrival of the young lovers before heading back inside. ( Best to avoid the whole ‘speak now’ thing by not actually witnessing it at all. )

Ian and Lyra showed up at the garden together shortly before the appointed time. Lyra gasped softly at the decorations and readily passed a small pouch of silver dust towards Grumbar when she saw the old cleric.

Taking it from her, Grumbar gestured to the little makeshift altar Bonu and Edwin had put together. “The two of you, come here.” He set the dust down beside the few things he had brought with him — a stone bowl, a red silk string, an athame, and a matchbox — and then held out his hand for their vows.

After reading over the vows, he passed them back with a nod and cracked his fingers together before picking up the red string. “My god is a… god of oaths,” he explained. “There is only until death do you part with this ceremony. If your love is true, offer each other your ring fingers to tie this ribbon around and we will begin.”

Keros, Bonu, and Edwin stood as witnesses to the ceremony as Ian and Lyra readily tied the string to each other’s fingers, smiling softly at each other all the while. The string between them was coiled into the stone bowl and Grumbar emptied the powdered silver over it. “You will read your vows together and place them in the bowl when you finish.

Over the garden as the young lovers read their vows, there was a soft energy that hummed with the performance of the ceremony. Not an audible thing, not one easily picked up on, but there all the same as the last priest of Grumbar carried out these sacred rites.

The vows were set in the bowl together and Grumbar gestured for their tied fingers to be extended. With the athame, he pricked their fingers and let their blood drip over the vows before striking a match and setting the contents of the bowl aflame. As the flames burned crimson, Grumbar settled his hands on either side of the bowl. “With this, let your bond be as sturdy as stone. So mote it be.”

As he spoke, the fires licked up the ribbon before it broke, coiling up and burning slowly in the bowl. It left Lyra and Ian married, with rings of ribbon on their fingers, and an overwhelming joy.

Grumbar looked away from the newly weds, both to give them their peace as they stepped away from the altar and because he had the strange sense they were all being watched. He looked back towards the church, seeing nothing at first, but soon catching a glimpse of dark eyes from one of the shrubs. Before he could nudge one of the fighter types he lived with, a stone being rolled out, stopping right at Grumbar’s feet.

“Grumbar!” the stone creature said, voice gravelly and harsh.

“Who’s your friend?” Bonu asked, still wiping at the tears the ceremony had invoked.

The cleric looked down at it warily. “Not sure…”

In the rough, primordial Terran language, the creature introduced itself to Grumbar as an aspect of the divine Grumbar.

Keros, only familiar with primordial Aquan, leaned over towards Bonu and Edwin and whispered, “I think this is Grumbar’s son… But this accent is a little… drier than I’m used to.”

Grumbar, on the other hand, found he could understand the dialect quite clearly. “You’re a… guardian?” he asked, suddenly fluent in Terran.

“Yes, Grumbar.”

“Do you have a name?” He was met with silence and returned to Common. “So we’ll work on the name thing.” Grumbar looked back at the others. “I… guess we have a new… rock.”

“Your son is very cute, Grumbar,” Keros said.

“He’s not my son.”

The knee-high stone creature rolled itself up into a small boulder and began to roll around the four of them. They watched until the rock creature rolled itself out and sat down next to the cleric, watching and waiting. Grumbar nodded.

“Right. His name’s Sonic. He’s uh… gonna be staying awhile.”

[qualiteadnd]

A Cult Classic II

— A WATERDEEP IRREGULARS ADVENTURE

With the return of their cleric and a new friend, the Irregulars dive deeper into the dark magic underbelly of Waterdeep.

As Bonu and Keros were cleaning up breakfast the next morning, Grumbar returned at long last. Expecting the old cleric to possibly still be drunk from whatever bender he’d been on in the last week, they were both surprised to find him stone cold sober for the first time since they’d met him.

“Some things came up…” he explained quietly.

While Bonu was all for this change of heart, Keros seemed a little concerned about the strange behavior from their usually predictable friend. Regardless, they caught him up on their latest mission from Mara and the three set out to meet Edwin.

Down the road at the Grinning Lion, Edwin was greeting the day with a house ale and offered to buy a round for the three of them after introductions were made. With Grumbar passing down free alcohol, Keros knew something was up, but the cleric waved off any questions, insisting they should probably get to figuring out this cursed card thing.

Wandering the Trade Ward, they popped into some of the shops that the gang hadn’t hit up the day prior. Orsabba’s shop front was curious and welcoming, inviting people to spend their coin on all manner of magical baubles and goods. They let themselves in with a jingle of the bell and began to poke around the wares until a young man stepped out of the back.

Before he could introduce himself, Keros asked if he’d heard about the death of Valuth Myres and the man instantly paled. “Valuth was a good friend,” he explained. “I-I told him something wasn’t right about those cards.”

Introducing himself as Mateo Leeson, he explained he’d already spoken with the Watch. That wasn’t good enough for Edwin, however, who pushed the man up against a wall and encouraged him to tell him everything he knew about the matter.

Keros and Grumbar were quick to intervene while Bonu poked his nose into the back of the shop. Keros pulled Edwin back, warning the old timer against using force on innocent folks as Grumbar took over the interrogation.

Though Grumbar tried to play good cop, Edwin’s bad cop routine had definitely turned Mateo off. “Look,” he said warily. “Valuth was my friend. I don’t think he got those cards from any of the shops around here.”

He edged around them all to the counter and wrote out a list of all the reputable magic shops in the area, including a new shop that had been stealing business with incredibly low prices. “I don’t know anyone over there, but their prices are too low to be… reliably enchanted. If you can run whoever’s behind this out of business… I might be able to get you some deals with Orsabba.”

As Bonu ducked out from the back, where he definitely should not have been snooping and had definitely found nothing but in process enchantments, Keros distracted Mateo with a thanks and an apology. He slid him a gold piece and followed the rest of them out of the shop.

As they started to make their way towards the River Gate, Bonu started to get the sense someone was following them again. Every time he glanced back, a young man and young woman froze up a bit before eventually steeling themselves up and approaching the group directly.

“Sorry to interrupt, but are you a priest?” they asked Grumbar.

Ian Evry and Lyra Majarrah, as they quickly introduced themselves, were young and in love. Lyra’s family, however, was against the union and had enough money to ensure no church or temple in the city would wed them.

Teary eyed, Bonu was already on the side of the young lovers and insisting Grumbar should help. The cleric sighed and looked them over. “Are you serious about this?” They were. “Then I’ll do it, but only under a few conditions. First, is there a place that’s special to you?”

Ian and Lyra quickly decided on a park near the City of the Dead where they’d gone on walks together.

“Then we’ll hold the ceremony there in two days. You’ll provide me with powdered silver worth 25 gold for it and you’ll write your vows— and I mean really write them. If they’re bad you’re going to do it again, got it?”

Readily agreeing to it, they clasped his hand and thanked him profusely before running off to make their preparations.

Bonu watched them go with a smile and big plans already forming.

The rest of the trip down to River Gate was uneventful. They found the storefront to River Gate Goods dark and tucked away between two busier shops. A pull on the door found that it was open, but no clerk came to greet them.

Trusting that something wasn’t right, Grumbar cast Detect Evil and Good and caught a bright flash of something definitely evil from beneath the shop.

“See,” Keros said to Edwin, “this is when you can use force.” And then vaulted over the counter to reach the cellar door behind it.

While Keros and the others descended, Bonu quickly jogged back outside and found some young children playing with some sticks. “Hey, hey kids. There’s something real scary in this shop,” he said pointing at River Gate Goods. “Go find a guard, okay? Tell them: Bonu said to go get Kraag.”

Wide eyed, the kids just nodded at this large barbarian fellow and quickly ran off with their sticks. Deciding that was good enough, Bonu pulled his axe off his back and charged in after his friends.

That was when the screaming started.

Beneath the shabby magic shop, the usual storage cellar had been turned into altar space. Keros dropped to the ground and made room for the others coming down the ladder, his eyes focused on the grotesque demon sinking its claws into a cultist at the head of the room. “Think we found the source of that evil.”

While some of the cultists seemed thrilled to see this creature, others were hurriedly backing away as they realized their mistake.

Arrows knocked, axe drawn, knuckles cracked, and prayers at the ready, the party descended on the demon with the same approach they took to every fight: hurt it hard and fast before it can do the same. Those few cultists who seemed to welcome the demon were taken out of the fight with arrows and by the demon itself. Bonu and Edwin got to work, wailing on the thing with quick, critical hits.

Sensing something holy with Grumbar, who’d gotten a little to close to the thing, the demon attempted to make a terrible strike at him, but was ultimately slain, collapsing in an even more grotesque heap.

“Someone should start explaining what was going on down here,” Edwin suggested, cracking his bloodied knuckles again and looking at the remaining cultists. Keros drew another arrow and planted himself firmly between them and the exit.

One of the men stepped forward, wringing his hands nervously. “We just wanted to change things,” he said. “We’ve lost people and we’ve watched the nobles do nothing. We thought,” he glanced back at the demon and grimaced, “we thought we could summon an archfiend and make a deal, but, uh….”

“But you fucked up.” The cultist let out a startled half shriek as Edwin clamped a hand on his shoulder. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Dave…”

“Alright, Dave. Next time you want to change things, maybe don’t join a cult,” said Edwin. Bonu gestured to the cultist puddle beneath the demon and Dave paled further.

Above them, they could hear heavy footsteps coming into the shop. Keros leaned back towards the cellar door and a gave a little wave as a familiar half-orc appeared. “All clear! Mostly. It’s uh… little gross down here, but all clear!”

Kraag came down the ladder, followed by two more of the Watch as the others began investigating the shop proper. “Gods, what is that?” he asked looking at the mess of demon.

“It was supposed to be Mamnon, but uhm… we… messed up… something,” Dave said glancing back and forth between the remaining two cultists and their ruined altar. At the look from Kraag, Dave wisely shut up and began to examine the dirt under his feet.

“I’ll deal with you in a minute,” Kraag told him before returning his attention to the party wiping off various gross blood splatters from their persons. “Well, thanks for calling us this time. Got here as quick as we could, but glad to see you could handle it.” He squinted at the bloodied mess. “You’re sure it’s dead?”

“Pretty damn.”

Kraag looked over at the old monk and nodded. “Good, good. I hate demons.” With the Watch taking it from there, Kraag told them to head back to the Blackwoods and send his gratitude.

Mara was relieved to hear it was taken care of and paid not only her agents for their service, but offered payment to Edwin as well as a show of good faith. “I can’t promise my mother will want to hear you out, Mr. Thorne, but I will see what can be done. You’ve done us a favor here.”

Having done their good deed and seeing a job well done, Bonu invited Edwin back to their place for dinner and to begin the preparations for Lyra and Ian’s wedding. “They deserve the best. This is a true romance,” he explained, ushering everyone out of Mara’s study. “We’ll need flowers, decorations, a cake! I need at least a week Grumbar, is it too late to reschedule?”

“Yes.”

“Never mind, they’ve waited long enough anyhow and I’ve got the perfect buttercream recipe for this.”

With no reference for this in the slightest, Mara simply shook her head and smiled as they left. They weren’t exactly the terrible assassins her mother had once painted them.

[qualiteadnd]

A Cult Classic I

— A WATERDEEP IRREGULARS ADVENTURE

The mysterious death of a young man involving cursed magics and the continued unrest in the city sends the party on a hunt for answers.

Actually living in Waterdeep turned out to be not so different from simply renting a room in one of its many inns. They spent the next few days working with Mara to learn a little bit more about their position with the family. And Bonu, in high key decorator mode, put both Keros and Grumbar to work at odd and random times. But otherwise the party dynamic was much of what it had been before the offer.

That is, until Grumbar left the house muttering to himself one morning with barely a glance at the other two. A quick promise to return eventually was all they got before the cleric slammed the door behind him.

“Should we follow him?”

“It’s Grumbar, I’m sure he’s fine.” Probably.

A few days later and still no sign of Grumbar, they were called to meet Mara and found her rifling through paperwork in her study nervously. After asking after the cleric and getting shrugs from the archer and barbarian, she sighed and shook her head.

“I don’t know if he’d be of help here or not. There was a tragic accident in the Castle Ward three days ago. Valuth Myres perished in an explosion. He was found among the rubble of his home with an untouched deck of cards. A wizard with the Watch recently confirmed they’re cursed, but we haven’t a clue where he got them. Earlier that afternoon, Valuth been seen bragging about these supposedly ‘lucky’ cards at a tavern nearby, but that seems to be all we have.”

With orders to check in with Kraag at the Watch before the case ran too cold, they made a quick detour for Bonu to grab a small basket of pastries from their kitchen and headed off.

It was a quick trip across town to the Watch House and the guards seemed already accustomed to Bonu arriving unannounced with pastries. Bonu, to Keros’s amusement, already knew the path to Kraag’s office and knocked before just letting himself in.

Kraag, surrounded by a pile of paperwork, sighed when the door opened. “So Lord Blackwood sent you?” Kraag asked as Bonu offered him pastries. Despite looking beyond tired, the half-orc took one with a nod of thanks. “I’ve got people missing. Continued unrest. And now people dying.”

He went on to explain that, over the last couple of weeks, people had been turning up missing in the city. Until any evidence of them were found, the Watch was at a standstill there, but Myres’s death was raising other alarms.

“We’ve spoken with a friend of the victim, Mateo Leeson, but he doesn’t have any idea where Myres got these cards. We have a dozen magic shops in the city and it could be any of them. Could be an outside merchant. Could have been a gift. Nothing’s turned up yet and I’m run thin already,” he said with a gesture to the paperwork.

Promising to do what they could to help, the two made their way out of the Watch, following a vague lead that could really take them anywhere in the city. Inevitably, they ended up at the Roaring Lamb for their usual lunch and greeted Nick with friendly conversation.

At one end of the bar an older human gentleman with long graying hair sat watching the tavern and making friendly conversation with any who seemed interested. Though there was a small keg at his hip, he kept pushing his glass back towards Nick for refills when his conversations lulled.

Plotting out their means of investigation at one of the tables, Keros and Bonu missed much of the altercation between the old timer and three younger men in the tavern. But as a fight began to break out, the two pushed aside their drinks and stood up to come to his, and the barkeeper’s, assistance.

Which, they would quickly see, was mostly unnecessary.

Though Bonu and Keros had meant to just scare the lads into backing off with a little show of force, the old timer held none of his punches and unleashed a quick flurry of blows in the face of the first thug to raise his fists. With him preoccupied, Keros rounded on the second and pulled an arrow from his hip. A flash of arcane energy flared at its head and he stabbed it into the attacking thug’s shoulder, causing him to go blind for a brief second and recoil from the fight.

Smarter than his fellows, the third simply turned tail and booked it. Bonu was quick on his feet, however, and chased after him, calling the guards as they sprinted down the main road. Keros, loathe to leave Bonu to his own devices, abandoned the old timer, who seemed just fine on his own with the two staggered thugs, and booked it after the barbarian with his net in hand.

After a brief tussle and ensuring the city guards had it from there, they took stock of the brief mess they’d made of the tavern. Before Nick could even raise a fuss over the broken glassware, the old timer slid him a couple of gold paired with a smile and an apology.

“You lads are spirited,” the old timer said, as Keros and Bonu each slid an additional gold to Nick’s recompense. “Name’s Edwin,” he said, inviting himself to their table.

Introducing themselves, they marveled at his fighting ability to which he laughed, taking a drink from a newly refreshed pint. “Just an old traveler. Nothing special. But I like the folk around here. There are enough bullies in the nobility, we don’t need to go fighting among each other on top of it.”

Against Keros’s better judgement, Bonu went onto say not all nobility was bad. The surviving Blackwoods were certainly trying.

Curious to hear those sort of sentiments, especially about the Blackwoods, Edwin reluctantly agreed. “But as long as its only them doing the ruling around here, nothing will change. That Sultlue was just on trial and nothing’s come of it.”

Taking a leap, Bonu suggested that if Edwin could help them out with a favor, maybe they could put him in touch with someone who had more power to change things than them. “We could put in a good word, but first we’re looking to figure out who killed this guy, Valuth. He sorta blew up. Kind of a pressing issue.”

Finding their investigation more interesting than a daytime bar crawl, Edwin agreed to help, especially if they could put him in touch with a lord. So they settled their tabs and headed out, with Edwin sipping at his flask as they left.

The couple of magic shops they stopped in were small and a bit skittish, having already had guards and concerned patrons poking in earlier in the day. They swore their products were up to code with the merchant guild’s magic division and that they’d never done business with Valuth Myres.

One shop they popped into was less of a magic shop and more of a general armor and weaponry shop with some magical wares within, but they stopped in out of curiosity. While there, Bonu commissioned a new set of armor and Keros impulse traded his silvered rapier for a finely crafted trident.

Duwain Bladesemer even agreed to give them a bit of a deal when Bonu yet again let slip they had connections to the Blackwoods. If they could forge an exclusive contract between House Bladesemer and House Blackwood for their armory supplies, Duwain promised Bonu even better deals in the future.

“That was productive,” Bonu said as they walked out, their purses much lighter.

Sipping from his flask, Edwin eyed the two of them. “Was it though?”

With night starting to roll in and being no closer to solving this than when they started, they split ways with Edwin for the evening. They would meet him at the Grinning Lion, the inn closer to Blackwood Manor, in the morning and try again tomorrow.

“I like him. He has a good heart,” Bonu said, leading the way home.

Keros agreed and looked up at the darkening sky. “But have you noticed everyone we work with is always drunk?”

Having left his fellows without much explanation, Grumbar found himself inexplicably drawn to the needle point tower that loomed in the heart of Waterdeep. While he had never intended to visit the Plinth, the strange dreams and troubled thoughts he had been having since he swore himself to the Blackwoods drew him closer.

A massive granite tower with spiraling balconies, the Plinth was a beacon for worshipers of the old gods whose practices were often forgotten and unwelcome. There was solidarity among the various priests, monks, and other followers within who came to remember they were not so alone. And as the last priest of Grumbar, Grumbar had planned to avoid this place with more care than he had avoided plagues in the past.

Finding himself there now, however, Grumbar’s feet brought him to a forgotten altar on the ground floor where darkness quickly overtook him. Instead of this tiny stone altar, he stood before a massive stone face, larger than any mountain and impossible to see in a single glance. Though the mouth of this face moved, its voice, rough like gravel, reverberated through his very being: 

“Hello, my child. You lost faith in me, but I do not hold it against you. I have been gone too long and too much has changed in my absence. But more change is yet to come. 

You have work to do. The land is in peril and the anima of this world is crying out. There is an evil clawing at the roots of the world, threatening to tear apart the very mountains themselves. Though you are a mere mortal, you are my only living follower in this land with even a glimmer of belief left in you. 

Yes, you have broken tenets. You have not preached in my name for over a decade. But none of that matters, because at your core, in your immovable bedrock, you were still true… just… waiting. We have both been… asleep. But even the land will shift and buckle if enough pressure is applied. Now… the earth quakes… and the world wakes. 

You have much work to do, my Chosen.” 

Grumbar woke, sobered and alone, in front of the altar and unaware of what time had passed. When he had entered the Plinth, the sun had been high in the sky. And as he made his silent way out, the sun was rising once more.

[qualiteadnd]

News from Veltalar

— LETTER FROM THE SEA OF FALLEN STARS

The Selune temple known as the House of the Four Moons was broken into during the Feast of the Moon rites. High Priestess Elanor and the temple priestesses were attacked by an unknown woman of infernal(?) descent.

High Priestess Elanor held the woman off to ensure the safety of her sisters, but was ultimately slain in her defense of the temple.

Her body was found in the moonlit pool within the temple, the water running red and tainted by dark magic. It can only be assumed that this was part of some yet unknown ritual. It is also unclear if this incident is connected to the desecrations that have been occurring in the region for the last few weeks.

No sign of this woman has been found since and members of the temple are asked to keep their guards up, as this could be sign of increased activity of Shar zealots. The Swords of the Lady, among other defenses, are seeking any information on this woman.

This woman is capable of powerful shadow magic and caution is advised. Below is a sketch provided by High Priestess Polaris:

Art by CITRUX

[qualiteadnd]

Law & Order: Waterdeep

— A WATERDEEP IRREGULARS ADVENTURE

After being framed for the assassinations of Waterdeep nobility by Z, Lord Arboreus Sultlue’s best hope for freedom is the party that first accused him.

After Lord Sultlue’s arrest and the unfortunate incident regarding the Wooden Man and his employer, Lord Blackwood requested that Keros, Grumbar, and Bonu remain in Waterdeep for the time being. After reminding them that they owed her their freedom, the group readily agreed, even though Greyson and his dogs were long gone.

Though they occasionally received missives from the Blackwoods at the Roaring Lamb, where they decided to stay now that the family wasn’t footing their bill, they didn’t see much of them. Instead, they spent their days catching up on some of the highlights of Waterdeep that they had previously missed out on. Keros caught up on news at the Selune temple, Bonu made his acquaintance with just about everyone he met, and Grumbar continued to ignore his clerical duties and tour the city pubs between some quick for hire jobs the three of them took up.

Days later, they were summoned back to Blackwood Manor. This time, Lady Westra was no where to be seen, but Lady Mara was waiting outside with a carriage.

“The trial is today,” she said after polite greetings were exchanged, “for Lord Arboreus. I know he’s not the sweetest man, but he is innocent. I would like it if you accompanied me. It’s formality, really, the evidence I presented the Watch with is enough to clear him, but… You’ve seen how the people of the city feel about nobles of late. It’s best we go through with the trial as normal.”

With some reluctance ( because he was not a sweet man and the party still thought he was creepy enough to not be trusted ), they agreed to it and joined Mara down to the Piergeiron’s Palace. A grand white stone structure at the foot of Mount Waterdeep, the palace was where the courts were held and where the Masked Lords, among others, would assemble to oversee the affairs of the city.

They followed Lady Mara inside and, alongside Captain Kraag who had arrived ahead of them, were directed by clerks within to the massive court chamber.

With striking statues and cathedral architecture, the room was vast and echoing. At a raised bench in the back of the chamber sat a woman who, at a distance, seemed younger than her long silver hair could lead some to believe. Open Lord Laeral Silverhand sat over the court with a number of masked individuals flanking her.

With a simple bow to the Open Lord and no acknowledgement to the other figures, Mara took a seat in one of the empty rows of seat. Being unfamiliar with the political etiquette of the city, Keros, Grumbar, and Bonu simply followed suit with Kraag at their heels.

Sitting alone in the center of the chamber was Lord Arboreus Sultlue. There was something of an audible, echoing groan from him when they entered.

“You think he’d be nicer to us considering,” Grumbar muttered under his breath.

Mara shook her head. “Grumbar…”

Despite the Lords overseeing the court, it was called to order by the two figures who entered the chamber and took their places below the bench. Blackrobes Kylynne and Claudius were orchestrating the trial. Blackrobe Kylynne, a tiefling, seemed interested in why the party would now speak on behalf of the man they had accused in the first place. Her partner, a human, seemed to be less interested and encouraged them to hurry up their case.

One at a time, they each presented their piece. Explaining how the evidence did, at first, lead to Sultlue — the wights, the snakes, the attempts on his house that seemed to fail — but that this was just part of something bigger.

They presented both Blackwood amulets and the dagger Keros had first taken from the Wooden Man along with the letter. The evidence didn’t point so cleanly back towards Arboreus with the rest of the puzzle pieces lined up.

“We assumed the Wooden Man was dead,” Grumbar explained, attempting to guide their ill-prepared testimony.

Bonu nodded. “We sorta last saw him in piec—” Grumbar elbowed him a bit and Bonu quickly corrected, “dead. We saw him very dead. No reason to think he might still be around. Or a suspect.”

“But since he tried to kill us — again — clearly we were wrong,” Keros added.

Mara backed their statements and Blackrobe Kylynne turned to focus on the accused for the first time. “Lord Sultlue, what do you have to say?”

He tore his attention away from the seated Lords and faced the Blackrobes with his chin high. “I have professed innocence from the beginning. There is nothing more to say on a crime I was victim to.”

“The Watch acted with the information we had in the effort to protect the city,” Kraag said, standing from his spot beside Bonu. “We stand with the actions taken and would do so again, however we are glad to see our actions were only precaution. We have already begun to look for the the Wooden Man and his alleged employer.”

The Blackrobes thanked them all and then began to converse between themselves as Kraag sat down. There was some minor eye rolling from them both at each other and when they turned back to the witnesses, Claudius was more annoyed than before.

“The charges against Lord Arboreus Sultlue of crimes against the nobility of Waterdeep will be dropped in light of the evidence brought before the court. Do the Lords disagree?” Kylynne did not look behind her and, for a moment, was met only with silence.

“The Lords are in agreement,” said the Open Lord, standing at her bench.

With the motion made to drop the charges, the court was dismissed and Lord Arboreus wasted no time in exiting the chamber.

As they filed outside, chatting a bit with Kraag about what was being done about Z ( or Zymun, as they guessed ), they were surprised to see Arboreus waiting for them. Perhaps expecting a small bit of gratitude from the man, they were somehow more surprised by his warning to stay away from him in the future.

“You think he’d be grateful,” Bonu said as Arboreus stormed off.

“You did sneak into his home and get him accused in the fist place,” Kraag pointed out.

Keros just gestured after him. “But still. Manners.”

Mara coughed slightly to grab their attention and smiled softly. “This was mostly formality, as I said, but thank you for coming. Mother is attending some business in the city, but if you could return to the manor sometime this evening, we have a proposition for you.”

Curious, they agreed and parted ways with Mara. Kraag also excused himself on account of “business” when Bonu offered to buy the man a drink if he joined them at the inn. With that plan shot down, Bonu quickly had another idea and looked up at the mountain that backed the palace. “Let’s go for a hike.”

Grumbar started towards what, he assumed, would be a path, but Bonu had other plans and quickly started to climb the rock face. “You have got to be kidding me…” he muttered to no one, as Keros was quick to follow the barbarian’s lead. He stood where he was for a long minute before giving in.

After a long day of more climbing than hiking, they reached the peak of Mount Waterdeep, the sun already beginning to dip. The three sat down heavily, some more out of breath than others, and looked out over the city. Waterdeep was beginning to light up with the coming dusk, but there were no torches or mobs in its streets tonight. The City of Splendors was just that, in part — a little — because of them.

“It’s beautiful,” said Bonu.

Keros nodded, looking out towards the coast. “It is.”

“We’re taking the fucking path down,” Gumbar grumbled.

Catching their breaths, they soon got back to their feet and followed Grumbar’s lead to the gently winding path down the mountain. The chatter was friendly and light with some well meant grumbling about bullheadedness along the way. They might not have meant to stay together as long as they had so far, but they worked surprisingly well as a team all the same.

On arriving at Blackwood Manor, they were brought to a grand study they’d not seen before where Lady Westra sat with her daughter at her side. She looked over the three of them coolly and then folded her hands on the desk. “Are you familiar with the Lord’s Alliance?”

Having only the vaguest idea of it, they said no.

“Waterdeep, Neverwinter, the major cities in these parts, we do not always agree with each other, but we can agree on a desire for peace from outside threats. There is an alliance among certain houses that look to uphold that peace and who employ certain agents to see it done. My daughter,” she said, looking at Mara, “believes you three can be… shaped into proper representatives of both House Blackwood and Waterdeep.”

“You do not have to agree,” Mara said, speaking up, “but in doing so you would be formally employed by our family. If you do not, we ask you keep this to yourselves. These are not offers made lightly or commonly.”

The three looked between each other before Keros raised a hand. “What does it entail?” He made a gesture to the tabards worn by the house guards. “Are we just guards?”

“When necessary,” Westra said. “Without divulging more, you would be our agents beyond Waterdeep when such representation or force is required. And you would answer to Mara.”

Keros, at least, seemed sold on that plan. He glanced at the others and back to the Blackwoods, then put his hand to his chest and bowed his head. “I accept.”

Bonu followed suit. Waterdeep ( and Kraag ), he said, seemed like it could use their help.

Grumbar was the only one hesitant on the matter with both the Blackwoods and his companions looking on expectantly. A pact, as formal as this one, was not something he’d made in awhile, he muttered under his breath. “But if we’re doing this… I also accept.”

Looking only a little bit like he’d been struck by something, Grumbar, alongside Keros and Bonu, watched Mara smile.

Lady Westra stood to make her exit. “Try to keep them in line.”

As Westra left, Mara picked up a key from the desk. “There is a house on the property that hasn’t been used in some time. It’s been recently aired and it’s yours, should you like it.” As they thanked her and took the key, Mara smiled. “Good. This will be something of a learning process for us all, but we’ll discuss the details tomorrow. I wish you all a good night.”

As they left the manor, Keros twirled the key in his hand, brows raised. “We have a house.”

Bonu snatched the key from him and marched them towards the assumed direction of their new home with Grumbar lagging behind. “Boys, we are redecorating!”

[qualiteadnd]

Assassin’s Creed: Waterdeep III

— A WATERDEEP IRREGULARS ADVENTURE

With doubts being cast among the Masked Lords, the party chases a lead that may risk their current good standing with the city of Waterdeep.

With the Watch working on returning the undead to their tombs and keeping an eye out for any further unrest — from corpses or commoners — the party made the trek back to Blackwood Manor. With the late hour upon them, they expected to simply pass a word of warning of the continued unrest and return to their lodgings for the evening.

They didn’t expect to see every window lit and for the increased activity of Blackwood guards on the grounds. “Did word of the uprising make it this far?” Keros asked, which only alarmed the guards more.

“Uprising? No. There was a break in this evening. What uprising? Is there an uprising?”

Only partially calming the guards, they bullied their way past them and into the house for answers. Kosef was in the main parlor, polishing up a crossbow. “Ah good, you came. Mara’s in the study upstairs with Westra. Everyone’s okay, but you’ll forgive the security increase,” he said, patting his crossbow. “Called for the Watch, but gods know where they are tonight.”

Taking his direction, they headed upstairs to find Mara alone in the study. She looked up when they knocked and entered.

Promising she was alright, she informed them her room had been broken into sometime between when she’d changed for bed and when she’d gone to say goodnight to Ander. When she’d come back, the window had been shattered and her room had been tossed.

“The only thing missing,” Mara said, “seems to be the amulet. The one you returned to me, Keros. I think I know why Bran wanted it. It was a gift to Urth, ages ago, and was rumored to bring longevity to its wearer. But that’s a story, of course. Urth was very old when he died, but hardly as old as an elf, like rumor claimed. Even so, the amulet would only attune to a Blackwood and, well, you know Bran was my half-brother…” She shook her head. “I still don’t really know his intentions with it. But I have even less of an idea of why someone else would steal it.”

Agreeding to keep an eye out for it, they proceeded to inform her of what had transpired earlier. Keros, speaking on behalf of the party, promised to spend the night on watch with the guards at the manor. Before the rest of the party could raise objection to this, Mara thanked them all for everything they continued to do for her family and excused herself to a guest room for the night.

After a quiet night and breakfast with the Blackwoods, the group promised they were hunting down a good lead and would update Mara and Westra when they had more. With that, they headed towards the City of the Dead.

Though the day guards at the cemetery’s north entrance warned them of increased activity of the dead within, they assured them it was nothing to worry about in the day. This didn’t really comfort them any. Grumbar asked the guards for any directions towards the Sultlue tombs, as they wished to pay some respects, and the guards directed them without much question.

After some searching, they found the tomb with a large snake and dagger crest over the door and the family name engraved across the top.

The mausoleum, surprisingly, was already open. And a quick investigation turned up that most of the nearby tombs were locked tight — either preventing desecration or keeping great-granddaddy inside. Tossing the Waterdeep laws out the window yet again, they started to poke around. While some — Greyson — were interested in pilfering old trinkets and the like, the others turned up an alarming amount of evidence that didn’t paint Lord Arboreus and his kin in the best light.

The Sultlue tomb was blood spattered in what appeared to be the work of many old ( and some recent ) ritual sacrifices. The snake iconography ran deep, all the way to a tomb of what appeared to be an ancient Sultlue ancestor who was, perhaps, not entirely human. And maybe a little more yuan-ti.

Settling on the fact that this decidedly raised Arboreus from ‘kind of shitty and arrogant’ to ‘possibly trying to kill his fellow lords,’ they decided to seek out Kraag. Dealing with the lord themselves was probably frowned on after Bran, they figured.

The hunt for Kraag ended up leading them straight to Lord Arboreus regardless. A second break in of a noble house in less than a day, the Watch was on scene and starting to look a little tense. Telling Kraag what they’d seen and insisting they hadn’t broken in because it was already open, the captain groaned into his hands.

“I can’t go arresting a lord because of something previously wanted criminals found in his family tomb. Everything you have? It’s circumstantial at best.”

The choice, then, was clear. “Let us inside. We’ll find proof.”

Kraag looked at Keros as though he’d grown a second head. Able to convince Kraag with the promise that if they were wrong they would let it go ( but if they were right, he could arrest the threat to the nobles ), Kraag swore to himself. “You have five minutes and I had no part in this,” he warned them.

He then called over to Lord Arboreus and asked him to take a walk with him through the garden so they could go over the details one more time. “You said the key to your family tomb was taken from your study?” they heard Kraag say as the two walked off.

Deciding that was a very convenient a thing to have stolen, they booked it inside when no one was looking.

Expecting to be greeted with something similar to the Blackwood Manor — ornate, imposing, reeking of old money — they were caught off by the glass enclosure that made up the center of the home. Within were lush, green jungle plants unlike any that grew around these parts. The green house stretched to the roof, with sunlight filtering down through the leaves.

With that being both neat and a little weird, they moved past it towards Arboreus’s more private chambers. Grumbar cast Detect Poisons and Disease as they moved upstairs and nudged them towards a locked door. Calling Greyson away from his “investigation” of some statuary, the dwarf opened the door for them with ease.

Now, while having a hobby is not unusual, the last time they’d discovered a noble hiding a chemist’s lab it hadn’t simply been for fun. All sorts of vials, liquids, and deadly plants decorated the lab. Most notably, there were tanks of various sizes housing some rather mean looking snakes too.

Grumbar’s spell illuminated an assortment of venom and poisons in the room.

“Oooohhh I don’t like him,” said Bonu.

They continued to snoop and found an open study that looked as tossed and ruined as Mara’s room had, as well as what seemed to be the master bedroom. They began to nudge things around, finally settling on a chest at the foot of the bed that was double locked. Keros pulled Greyson back in from whatever he was investigating in the hall and had him open the chest.

A quick rummage inside turned up two things hidden at the bottom: a key and the Blackwood amulet.

Keros went to grab them both, but Grumbar stopped him. “If we take it to Kraag, he’ll have to explain how we were in here.”

“So we just leave it here? This is proof he came after Lady Mara!”

“We tell Kraag and he finds it.”

They put everything back, though less hidden and without locking anything, and crept back outside unseen with Greyson leading the way. They were on the lawn before Kraag and Arboreus rounded the corner.

“What are they still doing here?” Arboreus asked.

“I’ll check,” the watch captain said. He gave the party a look that demanded answers when he rejoined them. “Well?”

Quickly, speaking over each other as they went, they told him about what they’d found inside: the poisons, the amulet, the key.

Kraag pinched at the bridge of his nose. Telling them he’d take it from here, he advised them to leave the rest of this to his team. He spoke with some of his men and headed back into the house with them and Arboreus to “look over the scene one more time.”

They didn’t leave. And as the minutes ticked by with no sign of Kraag and his men, Bonu began to grow agitated, fiddling more and more with his axe. “What if that snake’s done something to Kraag? We have to go in there!” Grumbar’s insistence that they wait only worked for so long.

Deciding that Kraag was clearly in danger of Arboreus’s snake trickery, Bonu tried to storm the manor after him. Not as used to Bonu’s emotional outbursts, Greyson and the remaining guards looked on in fascination and horror as Keros threw a net on his companion and began to wrestle him to the ground. As he started to shout about a need for justice, Grumbar cast Silence over the three of them and shot the guards the most strained of thumbs up.

They bickered in pantomime until Kraag returned with Arboreus in tow. At which point, the Silence dropped and both Keros and Bonu scrambled back up to their feet.

Arboreus had never looked more indignant. With a guard on either side, he was being escorted away from his home with loud complaints that he’d never seen that amulet in his life, this was a misunderstanding, and that they would pay for this. Kraag, looking more tired than relieved to have all of this over, had the key and amulet in hand.

“You can tell Lord Blackwood and her family that Lord Sultlue is being questioned on his involvement in all of this. This is going to be messy as it is, I would appreciate it if they were the only ones you told.” He turned the amulet over to Keros. “I understand this is an old heirloom, nobles tend to not like those things being out of their own hands for too long. See they get it back.”

Thanking him and promising they would, the party returned to Blackwood Manor. Mara was thrilled to see them back, but she seemed to already know about Sultlue’s arrest. “Mother was called away for a meeting of the Ma- of the lords. Word of his arrest is already spreading,” she told them.

Mara gave a small smile to Grumbar, Bonu, and Keros as the amulet was once again returned to her hands. “I don’t think you’re mother’s favorite people yet, but she is thankful.” From the table beside her, she pulled four small pouches of gold to hand to each of them.

Greyson thanked her for the coin and gave the others a nod of ‘well, it’s been fun’ and whistled to his dogs. They scrambled to their feet and followed the dwarf to the door where a young boy stood, hand poised to knock. Arching a skeptical brow at the kid, they moved past each other and Greyson stepped outside.

“Lady Mara Blackwood?” the boy asked as he came inside. “I’ve a delivery for Lady Mara.”

Surprised, she beckoned him over and took the small, paper wrapped package. “Just a moment,” she told him and the others as she opened it.

Mara gasped as a second Blackwood amulet stared back at her. Shocked, she read the letter, in its neat and cramped cursive, aloud:

Mara, 

I believe this belongs to you. As I worried, there was little magic left within. You may have it back. However, I believe my associate, Daerin, still has some unfinished business with your three retainers. Thanks for all the help! 

Wishing you the best of luck!  Z 

“Darnell?” Bonu asked.

At which point, their attention shifted from Mara and the letter to the boy who was no longer a boy. In his place stood a pale, heavily scarred elf in black leathers: the Wooden Man, alive and in the flesh.

Using the element of surprise, he laughed and attacked Grumbar, coming at him with a poisoned dagger. When Grumbar tried to Hold Person him, as he had done the last time, the assassin shrugged it off with a mad grin. “That won’t work this time, Grumbar.”

Keros quickly moved between Daerin and a frozen Mara, arrows notched and ready as Bonu went into another rage. Unable to pin him down and simply wail on him, the fight was a little better matched, with the elf giving as good as he got. He even managed to cast Hold Person on Grumbar for a moment, though the concentration was quickly broken.

( In the fight, no one noticed the door open and close or the invisible dwarf thief who stood blocking the elf’s escape. )

Thinking they were finally wearing him down, Keros was startled by shattering glass. He thought, perhaps, one of his arrows had gone impossibly wide, but a shimmer of illusion magic showed the truth. The assassin they were fighting had, at some point, cast a double of himself and sneaked towards the window.

“Don’t think I’m through with you!” he shouted, vaulting out the window and vanishing.

They were left standing there wondering what just happened ( and Greyson slipped out unseen once more ).

Finding Lady Mara unresponsive through all of this, they caught sight of a strange sheen on the amulet and pried it from her hand with a cloth. She quickly shrugged out of what state she’d been in, wiping her hand quickly on her skirts. A contact poison of some kind, she had been unable to move shortly after picking up the amulet.

“If this is the real amulet,” she said, handling it through the cloth, “then… there’s been a mistake with Lord Sultlue, hasn’t there?”

“The Jardeth guards said a hired elf had gone rogue on them,” Bonu said as reality came crashing down.

Keros pulled out the twisted dagger, permanently coated in a dangerous sheen of poison, that he’d taken off the Wooden Man when they’d first encountered him. “Guys?”

Grumbar put a hand over his face and sighed. “We just helped Z and Daryl frame a lord.”

Greyson ( ft. Mac & Gruff the mastiffs ) — “Dwarf.” Thief Rogue. Played by Malfrost.

[qualiteadnd]

Assassin’s Creed: Waterdeep II

— A WATERDEEP IRREGULARS ADVENTURE

Now convinced that the strange deaths of the Waterdeep lords are all connected, the party begins to seek answers in the city.

Summoned to Blackwood Manor early the next morning, the party found a frustrated Mara waiting for them. There had been another incident in the night, she told them, Lord Arboreus Sultlue was alright, thank the gods, and had managed to fend off the attacker.

“I’ve only just heard word of this, but please, look into it before things get anymore out of hand.”

So with the sun only just rising, the team made their way through the North Ward to Sultlue Manor. The property was teeming with the Watch, including Captain Agundar. Before they could ask after the lord’s whereabouts, he made himself known.

Young and arrogant, Lord Arboreus was not thrilled to have the city guards roaming about his property and was somehow less thrilled to see the adventurers than even Kraag. “I’m quite capable of handling things myself, clearly,” he said with a hand on his sword. “Tell that to the Blackwoods before they send their dogs.”

Mac and Gruff were rightly offended.

With some careful diplomacy, a feat lead by Grumbar, they were able to learn that Arboreus had been attacked with a dagger in the night, but had surprised the attacker with a blade of his own from beneath his pillow. Dressed all in black, the attacker had barely made a sound as they fled Arboreus and his guards.

Curious, they asked if the attacker had been an elf, but Arboreus seemed honest enough when he said he couldn’t tell.

“Whoever it was, they won’t be back, I can promise you that. I had my guards chase them down all the way to the South Ward, but the bastard found some hole to hide in.”

Wanting to be done with Arboreus as soon as possible, Greyson had his dogs sniff at a piece of cloth torn from the assailant. They then set off after Mac and Gruff towards the South Ward. More dumb floppy muscle than hunting dogs, however, neither really turned up much after even a few hours of wandering the streets. Needing to rethink their plans and fill their stomachs, they stepped into the Roaring Lamb, a nearby tavern.

With their entrance, some conversation hushed up in the corner, before picking up again with softer voices. The party eyed them, but grabbed a table of their own and put in orders for the lunch special and ales all around.

“Barging into my home, the nerve of those damn nobles,” one of the men could be heard grumbling, voice raising as he went. “Whatever that fucking Sultlue, or them Blackwoods think, he don’t own this city.”

The party made some not at all subtle gesturing to each other, nodding at the other table, and Keros and Grumbar turned to engage. Though the men there seemed wary of them, they were more so enraged with the arrogance of nobles. Sultlue’s men had done more than chase down the assailant. They’d turned over a number of homes in the South Ward to send a message, banging down the doors of innocent folk in search of a ghost.

“Watch ain’t doing shit about it either. I saw nothing. And even if I did? Wouldn’t tell them. Someone wants to go on killing them lords? That’s fine with me.” Having said their piece, the men tossed down some coins on the table and made their leave.

The bartender apologized for the commotion as he cleaned up, commenting that the party didn’t look to be from around here. Things had been tense in the city for a few weeks, if they couldn’t guess, and this was just one more spark in the fire.

Bonu took the lull in business to spark up a casual conversation about the city with the bartender — Nick, as he found out — while the others ate. Nick was sympathetic to the commoners, but didn’t seem quite as likely to aid murderers as the others. As their meal wound down, Grumbar slid a few gold across the table. “If a stranger wanted to learn some things about all of this, where might they look?”

Nick eyed them for a moment and then slid the gold off the counter. “Caravan Court. Might wanna look around dusk there tonight.”

With that in mind, the party thanked him for the meal and drinks and spent the rest of the day canvasing Caravan Court in preparation for what they might find there.

Not wanting to raise suspicions, they waited until dusk had settled to approach the court. By day, it was a gathering space for travel caravans and mercenaries seeking hire. By night, it was usually empty. But a large crowd, armed with torches and the like, had already congregated by time they arrived. Among them were folk they’d met weeks ago in the Copper District.

“They look cheerful,” Greyson muttered, eyeing the improvised weapons.

But their attention was quickly drawn to a young man atop an overturned cart. He was slight of build, dressed in black, and wore a tattered cloak. He would be easily overlooked if not for the inciting speech he was giving to his rapt audience:

“... you toil every day to scrape by. Your friends and family have died for this city. And the Blackwoods lied to you! They claimed to be helping, when it was Bran Blackwood who unleashed the plague upon you in the first place! 

I had friends here in the Copper District, struck down by illness and famine, and they were turned into undead abominations. The rumors are true! I have seen it with my own eyes! Instead of having graves dug for them, their bodies were made to dig a tunnel. Just so Bran could chase faerie tales... 

Will you stand idly by and wait for perhaps another noble house to play with your lives? Will you watch as they steal your mothers, fathers, children, siblings? Or would you rather send a message?

Stand with me and we can avenge our loved ones. Stand with me and we can show we will not be toyed with. Stand with me. TONIGHT, WE WILL STRIKE BACK AND TAKE THE WAR TO THEM! TONIGHT, WE BEGIN THE COPPER REBELLION!”

The crowd erupted into cheers, chanting the name “Zymun” as they stared up at the young man — hardly more than a teen — who had made them a mob.

Realizing nothing about this could go well, the group tried first to get a hold of this Zymun. Unfortunately, he vanished into the gathered crowd, with the aid of a walking stick despite his young age, almost as soon as he’d finished speaking. And with shouts across the court, they watched as the mob quickly started off, taking their rebellion to the nobles in the north.

There was a collectively muttered “shit” and the party started to move.

Bonu, Keros, Grumbar, and Greyson followed them along side streets, hoping they could get ahead of the mob. If they couldn’t stop the crowd, they would likely be torn asunder by the better armed, better trained guards of the city. The people were angry, and rightfully so, but this was not the answer, just another spark for the fire.

Catching a pair of guards along the way, they quickly told them — shouted at them, really — what was happening. They didn’t hang around to see if action was taken, however, still hoping to cut the mob off.

Able to move through the empty streets at full speed, they began to cover more ground. As they neared the City of the Dead, the torch light to their left was matched by torch light up ahead: Captain Kraag Agundar and his men had received word of the unrest.

They’d come to a large square where the Watch had hastily come together to form a wall between the North Ward and the mob. Warnings to turn back or surrender were issued, but the mob was enraged and inspirited. They only yelled louder and raised their torches and weapons higher.

And that was when things went from bad to worse.

Amidst the chaos, Grumbar caught movement coming from the City of the Dead to the east: led by two wights, a group of undead were creeping towards the commotion.

Bonu shouted towards Kraag across the way and aggressively gestured to the undead approaching before going into a rage. Kraag swore and began to start trying to divvy the attentions of his men between both threats, but a surge of water irrupted between the guards and the mob, separating them. There were startled cries from both sides and Keros, focusing on keeping the Water Wall up, turned to the commoners to shout, “You really might want to leave now!”

Noticing the undead already beginning to clash with guards and better armed adventurers, the mob hastily thought better of their mission and took his advice.

The fight was a little messy, but despite a few scares ( and Greyson hanging back from most of the fighting entirely ) they were able to clean up the undead with the help of the guards. One guard was not so lucky as the rest, however, and when the last of the undead were struck down, his comrades went to his aid.

Kraag, who had torn through the wights with gladiatorial ferocity, wiped his blades off as he approached the team. “Thanks for the heads up,” he said, sounding more sincere with them than he had since they’d met. “We’re sending someone down to check the gates to the City of the Dead. There are guards to make sure this kind of thing doesn’t happen. You wanna explain what the hell else was going on here?”

They told him that the mob had been incited by someone and Kraag’s attention sharpened. “The Revolutionary? Zymun, you said? You saw him?” Explaining that they had, but that they hadn’t spoken with him, Kraag swore again. “Ever since the plague, this guy’s been stirring up trouble. But no one is giving him up, we get whispers about this guy. Not fucking surprised he had something to do with this.”

Asking them to keep an eye out for him ( if they were already going to be nosing around for the Blackwoods ), Kraag turned to look down at the corpses in the square. “Gonna have to get these guys back to their tombs,” he muttered, walking off to delegate that unfortunate task elsewhere.

Greyson was already picking through the bodies by time Kraag had turned around. On one of the wights, he held up a strip of rotted fabric with a house crest still emblazoned on it. “Isn’t this the mark of the charmer we met this morning?”

The snake and the sword crest he tore off was indeed the mark of House Sultlue. And on deeper inspection, all of the undead appeared to be from noble houses, though Sultlues were the only wights in the lot.

“Didn’t the undertaker mention snake poison?” Keros piped up.

“And Arboreus is the only one who survived,” Bonu added.

They looked from each other to the undead with a snake coat of arms. Greyson snorted. “Who wants to bet on that coincidence?”

Greyson ( ft. Mac & Gruff the mastiffs ) — “Dwarf.” Thief Rogue. Played by Malfrost.

[qualiteadnd]

Assassin’s Creed: Waterdeep I

— A WATERDEEP IRREGULARS ADVENTURE

Nearly two months after fleeing Waterdeep, Keros and the gang receive a letter from Lady Mara Blackwood begging them to return to the city.

Having parted ways with Audulio, the party made their way towards Yartar. The river city was a hub for travelers and information and the party decided to see what ventures they might come across there. A venture, however, was already waiting for them. A courier quickly caught them at the gates with a letter. “Thought you might be the ones,” he said, passing the envelope to Keros. “Not a whole lot of tritons ’round these parts.”

With the letter addressed to the three of them, they crowded around Keros as he broke the wax seal with a familiar tree crest. The letter, in neat script, read:

I hope this finds you in time.

There have been some deaths in the city in the weeks since you’ve left and I grow increasingly worried. An attempt was made on the life of someone in House Blackwood, thankfully we are alright. I know it is much to ask, but you uncovered Bran’s treachery and I can think of no one else to turn to. I have managed to arrange your pardons if you return to Waterdeep, I only hope you do so.

Yours sincerely, Lady Mara Blackwood

Though the concern of this being a ploy for their arrest came up, Keros whole-heartedly trusted that Lady Mara sincerely needed their help. She had, after all, allowed them to escape the first time. So, with some mutterings from their cleric, the party left Yartar almost as soon as they’d arrived and pushed on back towards Waterdeep.

In under a tenday, they found themselves back at Waterdeep’s North Gates. The other travelers filing into the gates were chatty, talking of tensions in the city, crime spikes, and strikes in the Copper District. Hardly encouraged about their return, even with the letter they carried, they attempted to pass the guards with their heads down.

That went about as well as expected.

Pulled aside from the rest of the travelers moving in and out of the city, Keros quickly pulled out Mara’s letter in their defense. The City Watch, however, insisted on escorting them down to the Watch House where they could take it up with the captain. They considered breaking from the guards, but ultimately decided against it and allowed themselves to be led off. Though Bonu and Keros tried to strike up conversation and win favors, their attempts fizzled pretty quickly.

Let into the Watch House, they were ushered into a corner of the building definitely more suited for criminal folks awaiting bail than friendly chats with the local watch captain. Already making himself quite at home there was a dwarvish looking fellow and two dogs roughly as big as himself.

Greyson, as the dwarf introduced himself, was vaguely familiar with this post, though friendly was not really the word he’d choose to describe his relationship with the watchmen here. Still, he waved once when a guard looked over at the motley crew and returned to petting the nearest drooling mastiff: Mac or Gruff, the party couldn’t really tell which was which.

After some small talk and some side eyeing of the dwarf in their company, a half-orc in uniform approached them. Stern and tired, Captain Kraag Agundar was almost less enthused about having the party in his company than they were on being escorted to him. “If Lord Blackwood hadn’t already sent word, I’d have you lot in manacles for the shit you pulled.”

Kraag then walked over to a desk and pulled out several leaflets of paper and aggressively insisted the lot of them, Greyson included, take it and take it to heart. ‘The Laws of Waterdeep’ was emblazoned across the top of the parchment. Keros whistled a bit at the realization of just how many laws they’d tossed to the wayside last time.

“In our defense,” Bonu said, “the guys we killed killed way more people than us.” Kraag was not amused. Greyson simply fed the paper to one of his dogs when no one was looking.

Another watchman hurried in and announced the arrival of Lady Westra and Lady Mara Blackwood moments before the women appeared. Westra, as dignified and cold as ever, didn’t look too pleased to be there, certainly not for the men who had killed her eldest son. Mara, on the other hand, seemed relieved.

Agreeing to take them under her charge — with the threat that a fate worse than prison would await them if they crossed her family again — Lady Westra swept out of the post as quick as she’d come. “Mother is worried,” Mara explained. “Please, there are carriages waiting. I will explain when we have some privacy.”

On their way out, Kraag issued one last warning against breaking the city laws. “I have enough problems right now without you lot.”

Keros promised their best behavior. Again, Kraag was unimpressed. Though Bonu seemed convinced he would come around.

With Greyson assumed to be part of their troupe by the Blackwoods, the dwarf came along with only the barest of invites to do so. Mara and Westra rode off in a carriage ahead of them and the four men and two dogs clambered into a second carriage.

Blackwood Manor was as imposing as they’d left it and the party quickly followed the two nobles inside. Greyson, at least, seemed more interested in the ornamentation of the manor than their reason for being there. Excusing herself from their company, only explaining she had business elsewhere in the city, Westra left Mara and one of their guards to deal with their guests.

Mara hurriedly explained that a string of deaths among the nobles of Waterdeep were beginning to raise some alarm. Although one of the deaths was still being spoken of as a tragic accident, the death that occurred just last night and the attempt on her own house — a poisoned dish that never made it to the table — made Mara believe there was something else to it.

“I, for one, will sleep better knowing someone is looking for the truth. And with the situation in the South Ward what it is now, well, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone came after our house again.”

“Is there anything you all have in common? A reason why someone might target these houses in particular?” Grumbar asked.

Mara grew visibly tense. “Waterdeep is ruled by the Open Lord and a secret council, the Masked Lords. There are rumors — just rumors — of which houses are part of this council and if you believe those rumors…” She waved her hand in gesture and said no more.

Promising to be the eyes and ears of the Blackwoods in the city, they agreed to look into the deaths. Mara promised a tab would be opened in her name at a nearby inn for them and Grumbar quickly led the charge there. “He’s very eager to plan things,” Keros tried to explain while he and Bonu waited for a written list of the families they should speak to before chasing after the rest of the team.

Grumbar and Greyson were already well into their drinks at the Grinning Lion when Bonu and Keros joined the table. Between them, Keros slapped down the list of nobles that had recently passed under odd circumstances:

Lord Ulb Jardeth, died in his bed almost a month ago.

Lord Ulmassus Phull, broke his neck in a fall little over a tenday ago.

Lord Dulbrawan Anteos II, died in his bed just last night.

Deciding to work their way across the city and visit each grieving family, the group grabbed some lunch at the inn and headed out.

Lord Anteos III was a grieving, frazzled young man when they arrived at the estate. With the very recent loss of his father, he didn’t want to speak more than absolutely necessary. He told them there was no way anyone could have gotten into the room. His father and mother locked the door from within and there was only a window with no way to climb the manor wall without a guard noticing. It had to be an unfortunate accident.

When Grumbar asked if there was anything strange about the body, Lord Anteos grew wary. “Well, there was a mark on his neck that mother found…” Either upset or concerned by this, he excused himself shortly after and they were encouraged to be on their way.

Across town, Lady Jardeth refused to take their company at all. They managed to speak with her house guards and questioned after any strange goings-on prior to the lord’s death. Though they’d noticed nothing unusual, nor had they seen anyone on the estate that night, they did mention that one of the house guards had gone missing. “An elf of some kind,” said one of the guards. “He kept to himself a lot. The lady had hired him maybe a month ago, if that.”

Taking note, the party thanked them for their cooperation and the guards looked the other way just long enough for Bonu to pick a flower from the garden before they left.

Lord Phull was only slightly more accommodating than the others. Though he kept them waiting — and Greyson got a little handsy with some of the less noticeable valuables around the study they waited in — he answered their questions easily. He didn’t believe his father’s death was anything more than it seemed — an accident.

“It’s tragic, of course it is, my father was a good man. Very well liked by the merchants here. But he was older now and it was very dark. He fell, that’s that. Do me a favor, while you’re about, tell that to the damn undertaker. I’d like to bury my father soon.”

Getting only slightly lost on their way to the undertaker’s, they found the man elbow deep in fluids they didn’t really want to question. When they mentioned their position with the Blackwoods, the man made a noise of understanding and ushered them in. His building was lit by arcane means and still managed to be dark and cold, though the cold he asked them to forgive, bodies and all.

“That boy,” he huffed, at the mention of Lord Phull, “should listen to me lest he end up like his father. Fall— A FALL.” He yanked back the sheet on the body of Lord Ulmassus Phull and tipped back the man’s head. Beneath the bruising of his broken neck, there was a faint dark and gangrenous webbing around a pinprick mark. “Does that look like a fall to you? Can’t be certain what kind, but from the reactions? I’d say it’s snake venom.”

Having passed on the lord’s message and thanking him for his time, the group quickly made their way out into the fresh evening air of the Sea Ward. With night fast approaching, they decided to check in with the Blackwoods and pick up in the morning.

“So, Lady Mara was right,” Keros said, as they made their way back.

“Sure. Someone’s killing nobles,” Grumbar agreed, “and it’s not us.”

Greyson ( ft. Mac & Gruff the mastiffs ) — “Dwarf.” Thief Rogue. Played by Malfrost.

[qualiteadnd]

One Small Favor

— A WATERDEEP IRREGULARS ADVENTURE

While traveling the countryside, the party is implored by a strange wizard to check in on a bit of land purchased from an even stranger old friend.

The village of Longsaddle was the latest stop for Keros, Bonu, and Grumbar as they tried to figure out what to do now that their plans in Waterdeep had gone belly up. The village was welcoming enough and they chose to spend a night at the inn rather than push on.

While Grumbar drank through a tab with the bar, Keros and Bonu hit it off with a performer by the name of Audulio. He was looking to hit the road and so they offered him a spot in their company to which he readily agreed. Audulio was a free spirit, however, and had trouble sticking with one group for too long. But company, he said, was what made the travels exciting and inspired his tunes.

The next morning, they milled about the Longsaddle market, stocking up on supplies and useless trinkets — namely, a small wooden duck that Keros figured Bonu would appreciate. Just before they were to head out they heard a voice shout, “You there! Yes, you with the bows and axes, come here!”

The statue in the center of the village had animated, to the surprise of literally none of the villagers. Longsaddle, it appeared, was home to a family of eccentric wizards and one of them needed their assistance. Tristan Harpell, as the statue introduced himself, had a job that needed doing and the party of four seemed enough like a trustworthy sort — the wizards were known to be eccentric, not wise. If they could just pop down the way and check on an investment of his, a small favor really, he’d pay them each 200 gold. They all readily agreed.

But with wizards, they’d learn, it was best to read the fine print.

An enchanted piece of parchment that soared towards them from the direction of the Harpell tower and smacked into Grumbar’s face. It flopped into his hands and unfolded itself into an old looking map. Tristan’s scribbling script began to appear before their eyes with the details of their job. The village of Silverleaf that he wanted them to check in on seemed like a three day travel down the main road.

Simple enough, they gathered their things and began to head out when one more surprise came at them. Carter, as the map was called, could speak. And he was quite excited to be assisting the party in assisting his master. If they had any questions at all, he would be happy to help!

The journey was uneventful, but along the way Carter filled in the blanks Tristan had slacked on. Silverleaf was a small village with a strange magical orchard where all the trees had, correct, silver leaves. Tristan had purchased the deed to the land from an old girlfriend of sorts, Freya Doomstaff.

It wasn’t that Tristan didn’t trust Freya, it was just that the deal on the land seemed a little too good to be true and an assistant he’d sent to check on the property hadn’t returned in a week. “So really, it’s so nice of you to be helping Master Harpell like this!”

When they arrived at the village, everything seemed normal enough, even the glittering orchard in the distance. However, it was utterly abandoned.

Some poking around the homes, many of which were left open, led to a smell of rot that permeated from the kitchens. It appeared as though one day all of Silverleaf had simply vanished. A rummage through the kitchens also uncovered a bottle of elvish wine yet uncorked that Grumbar decided to “save” before it too went to waste. Deciding it was best to leave Grumbar to the bottle for the time being, Keros, Bonu, and Audulio pressed on towards the orchard.

Though a little unkempt and definitely more silver than most, the orchard seemed normal enough. That is, except for the weird sparks shooting up from the picnic table like a flare and a hat seemingly abandoned on the path. Keros pushed the gate open and the three went in to investigate.

They got maybe four steps in before being struck by a severe sense of vertigo. And when it cleared, everything was big. Everything except them. The abandoned hat on the orchard path was the size of a large cart and they couldn’t even see the picnic table through the forest of grass.

From beneath the hat, four shrunken bugbears lept at them and a scuffle ensued. Two were taken care of with ease. However, they were not so alone in the orchard and their magics caught the attention of a raven. Unaffected by whatever magic was in the orchard, the bird seemed to be the size of a dragon. They watched in horror and fascination as it grabbed one of the remaining bugbears and swallowed it whole.

“What are you doing out in the open? You’re going to get yourselves killed! Come here, quickly!” From the grass, a tiny elven woman beckoned to them and the trio quickly ran to her as the raven chased down the last of the bugbears.

Saorse, as the elf introduced herself, was glad to see the adventurers. She led them through the maze of grass to an abandoned picnic basket. A twine rope was lowered from the top at her knocking and the four of them climbed inside. The picnic basket had been turned into a sanctuary for shrunken elves, the missing inhabitants of Silverleaf.

The elves were distressed to hear that the entire village had been abandoned, as not everyone could be accounted for in the basket. “We’re farming folk, we care for the orchard, we’re not equipped to deal with this kind of magic. But if you three could find that damn wizard, I bet she could fix this. She was experimenting in the orchard when all of this started.”

After a quick rest with the elves, and hearing more of their complaints of their former-landlord Freya Doomstaff, the party set out again with some guidance from Saorse.

Along the way they found a normal sized ring embedded in the dirt, which they had Carter take note of for later, and avoided the brief rain shower that tried to drown them by diving into a rabbit hole. Refusing to fight the rather territorial mama rabbit within, Audulio cast Sleep on the creature and they huddled at the entrance to wait for the rain to pass before pressing on.

Some echoing singing caught their attention and they followed the source to a tipped over wine bottle. Inside, was a rather soggy and drunk looking human fellow by the name of Darrack Dunhill. “This is Master Harpell’s assistant!” Carter supplied eagerly.

To which Darrack quickly protested, “Oh no –hic– I quit. This is the –hic– last time he nearly gets me –hic– killed. I’m done. A bug tried to eat me last night. A –hic-ing bug!” Deciding the bottle was perhaps a safe place for Darrack for the time being, they quickly left him to his singing and moved on.

Carter’s navigational magic informed them the stream between them and the sparking picnic table had a few options for crossing: the bridge, open and clear, made them easy prey for any watching ravens; a branch precariously reaching across the stream; or they could try to brave the currents with a swim.

Keros, a triton with quite the affinity for water, decided on a fourth option. They found a good sturdy leaf to make a boat out of and he dumped his things in alongside Audulio and Bonu. Finding makeshift paddles, Bonu and Audulio helped to steer the leaf as Keros powered it with some good fish swimming. Two looming frogs tried to make a snack of them, but Keros politely asked the frogs to move along, as they were already having a rough day. The frogs did just that, honoring even a very tiny guardian of the depths.

Shaking off the water, Keros donned the rest of his gear and they proceeded to the picnic table where the white sparks continued to fly. At the top, they found a tiny frazzled, but cheerful wizard: Freya Doomstaff. “Did Tristan send you? I knew he’d get around to it eventually.”

When asked just what in the hells was happening here, she laughed, “It’s all really a very funny story.” Though she had indeed sold Tristan the land to Silverleaf with a clause that stated she would not remove the trees from the ground, she had intended to play a little prank. “I was going to just shrink the whole orchard, you see, and scoop the trees AND the ground right up. But there was a little mistake and well… If you lads could be dears and just go get my arcane focus from that cursed bird, everything will be right as rain.”

Pointing out a nest atop the nearest tree, she explained if they could simply break the orb the raven had stolen, the whole spell would come apart. Though she absolutely refused to go with them, she cast Spiderclimb on all three of them and sent them on their way.

Getting really tired of all this tiny nonsense, the three headed off once more, hoping to reach the nest before the spell wore off. Though they were attacked by a small swarm of wasps along the way, they managed to get by with only minor injuries and leaving a pile of broken wasp wings in their wake.

That left them with the big threat: the dragon sized raven. Deciding to split the party, Audulio and Keros would play distraction while Bonu took care of the orb. Simple, easy, but also likely to get one of them killed. The best kind of plan.

Using shattering magics and tiny, sparking, needle arrows, they managed to make room for Bonu to sprint past the bird and charge the orb. Though things looked a little spicy for a moment and the orb gave Bonu some trouble, he was able to shove it off just in time.

The moment the spell broke the orchard eruptted into chaos.

Audulio, Keros, and Bonu fell out of the tree in a pile and sent the raven screeching into the distance as they reverted to their proper sizes. Across the way, Freya sat giddily on her picnic table, Darrack sat wet and drunk in a tiny wine puddle, and a bunch of elves were in an ungraceful doggy pile, topped with wicker.

Glad to see they’d managed it without looking too worse for wear, Freya snapped her fingers and a silver leaf fluttered down from the canopy in front of each of them with the Doomstaff insignia emblazoned on it. “As a show of thanks, a favor from the Doomstaff family. If you ever need a wizard, look us up.”

And then she was promptly swarmed by enraged wood elves. Laughing still, she told them to take up their complaints with their landlord, Tristan Harpell, and vanished on the spot with little more than a “Toodles!”

Picking up the ring they’d found along the way, the party finally made their own way out of the orchard. They shook off both their drunks — Darrack and Grumbar — and made their way back to Longsaddle, grateful to not be two inches high. ( Having no idea what they were talking about, Grumbar asked if they’d found some wine along the way too. )

Though Tristan was less than pleased, but not surprised, with the news of Freya’s tricks on their return, he rewarded them as promised for their one small favor.

Audulio — Human. Glamour Bard. Played by Malfrost.

Many thanks to DMs Jansen-Parks & Black for crafting this adventure!

[qualiteadnd]

The Plague of Waterdeep II

— A WATERDEEP IRREGULARS ADVENTURE

Having discovered the plague to be part of some deeper plot, the three adventurers turn their attention to the noble house at the heart of it.

After wading their way out of the sewers and the catacombs of Waterdeep, the party returned to their inn only to find Rurik waiting for them. The merchant showed them an invitation to Blackwood Manor where Lady Mara was holding a somber gala to appeal to other nobles of the city for aid. Rurik, having been moving his wares into the quarantine and assisting the Blackwoods’ efforts, was invited too.

“Perhaps,” he said, “you might have found something to help the lass. That and I hate these stuffy affairs. Need someone interesting to drink with.”

With the gala set for the next evening, the team had time to rest up and prepare for their trip into the hornet’s nest. Rurik would meet them in the North Ward and introduce them as guests and associates when they reached the manor. It was a simple plan.

Clearly, something would have to go wrong.

On their way to the North Ward, Bonu began to sense they were being watched. Looking around, they could see nothing out of the ordinary, but the feeling didn’t go away. They ducked down a side alley, deciding to change their path and perhaps rethink some things, when a shadowy figure attacked.

Few words were exchanged — least of all proper introductions ( Daerin? Daryl? Daniel? ) — but the elf’s intent was obvious. Keros disarmed him of a poison dagger as Grumbar cast Hold Person. Locked in place, their would be assassin had no where to go as they returned his offer of death threefold.

After searching the body, they found papers — written on Blackwood letterhead — in a secret coat pocket. The Wooden Man, as he was so called, had been hired to deal with a pest problem. The sender signed, in the same sweeping script as the note found in the sewer, only as B. In broad daylight, in the middle of the Trade District, they forced his body into a nearby barrel to cover their tracks, suddenly wary of being seen. The party took the letter, quickly wiped down their weapons, and hurried to catch up with Rurik.

By time they arrived, Blackwood Manor was in full festivities, nothing somber about it. Despite the nature of the gala, the nobles acted as though there was no plague to worry themselves about. Business as usual for the wealthy and well to do of Waterdeep. At a far table with Rurik, they plied the dwarf, and Grumbar, with booze to get the quick and dirty guide to the Blackwoods from the merchant.

Lady Westra Blackwood ruled the house after the death of her husband, Lord Geth. She was fierce and not to be trifled with. With her children still too young to rule, she had taken over the the title and remarried a well off merchant, Kosef. Kosef was good people, according to Rurik, and well meaning. Better with his crossbows and his hunting dogs than with politics, he was made Lord Blackwood in title, though not in practice.

The two could be found at the head table with Lady Westra’s youngest son, Ander. Ander was small, even for his age, and terribly frail and sickly. If the boy could shake whatever ailed him, Ander was destined to inherit his mother’s position as head of the house over his elder siblings, Mara and Bran. Mara was the eldest legitimate child of Westra and Geth, though Bran was the oldest by a few years. A bastard son of Westra’s, born early into her marriage with Geth, Bran had no claim to the title of his prestigious family.

Deciding to take a chance, the party approached the head of the table. Grumbar introduced himself to Lady Westra and Ander as a cleric and a healer. He asked to be allowed to see if his magic might heal Ander or at least offer insight to what ailed him. Lady Westra insisted the best healers were already at their disposal, but at Ander’s insistence, allowed it. The boy was dull-eyed and weak, but full of innocence yet. With what animation he could muster, Ander told the kind cleric and his friends about how nice his siblings had been to him since he’d fallen ill.

Though his healing magic did nothing, a Detect Poison and Disease spell told Grumbar that whatever ailed Ander was eerily similar to the disease in the Copper District. At mention of this, Lady Westra grew agitated and the three wisely retreated.

Over the course of the evening they tried to speak with Bran, but the young man was curt with them, explaining he had been on a hunting trip with Kosef and so had little part in the relief efforts. With few words of parting, he vanished off into the depths of the manor.

Lord Kosef, catching this, told them Bran was always odd like that and to not take either him or his wife’s cold words too much to heart. His wife was simply worried about Ander. And as for Bran, he was always off doing his own thing and “playing with his potions in his room. Boy doesn’t even come out on hunting trips.” Surely though, he meant well.

A small commotion in the courtyard caught Keros’s attention and he stepped away to investigate. Lady Mara herself was trying to disentangle herself from the attention of another young noble who seemed to have trouble taking hints. When Keros tried to present himself as an easy escape, requesting a moment of the lady’s time, the nobleman became both flustered and enraged. He challenged Keros to a duel.

Keros, not one to back down, agreed with a smile and Mara had them both presented with silver rapiers for a best of three. A trained Sword of the Lady, Keros made fast work of his opponent who had clearly never once seen real battle. Though he kept from ruining the man’s reputation outright, the nobleman stormed off without a word, leaving Keros and Mara alone.

Keros apologized for interrupting the party, but she thanked him for coming to her aid. “If only more nobles were as quick with their money as you were with your sword, this party might yet be worth it.” Mara then expressed her deep concern for what would happen if the plague persisted without a cure.

When Keros moved to return the rapier, she insisted he keep it as a sign of her gratitude before they parted with curtsies and bows. Bonu, having watched all of this from afar, commented on the sweetness of chivalry. Grumbar commented on watching a fish blush.

As the evening continued, the group decided there was nothing more they could find through polite interrogation and decided to wait for an opportunity to slip away from the party and explore the manor further. Going down a hall they had seen Bran scamper down earlier, they quickly found themselves ascending the stairs into a closed off wing.

After investigating a private, but unused, study, they soon found a bedroom cluttered with alchemical supplies in the corner. Going through the desk and the drawers, they pulled out blue prints of the Copper District, the sewers, and the City of the Dead. An old drawing of the amulet Keros had found in the tomb was also among the finds. Most damning was a diary detailing Ander’s worsening conditioning.

Thinking they had enough damning evidence to finally start pointing fingers, they were quickly caught by surprise. Rolling up his sleeves in the doorway, Bran Blackwood sneered, “Well, know what they say. If you want something done right, do it yourself. What? Didn’t think I had my room warded? Idiots.”

Having had an impish familiar hiding in the room and watching them from the start, Bran was ready for a fight. With the imp at his side to distract them, the alchemist began to hit hard and fast with eldritch magic, leaving the adventurers with no other choice.

Bonu went into another emotional rage — because how could anyone poison their own brother like that? Keros called on the elements to distract Bran with more blustering gales between arrows. And Grumbar surprised everyone in the room by revealing his shifter heritage in order to shake off the kind of paralyzing magic he himself had been using against their enemies.

Bloodied and battered themselves, it became more and more difficult to keep Bran alive to testify his crimes. No matter how they cornered him, he continued to spit curses, magical and insult alike. He wanted to succeed his mother as he rightfully should. He refused to live in the shadows of Ander and Mara. What were the lives of a few peasants to a Blackwood? If he had gotten his hands on the amulet, no one would question him.

The commotion did not go unnoticed, however. And as Bran choked out his last words, there was a gasp behind them. Lady Mara, it appeared, had witnessed their fight with her half-brother and had been too stunned to react.

“Bran has done terrible things,” she whispered, accepting the evidence and papers that stacked up with what she’d just heard. “I will see to it that his crimes are made known, and perhaps there is a cure in his work to fix what he’s done… But Bran is still of noble blood. I can give you time to leave this city, but that’s all. If you are caught, what good you’ve done here won’t be forgiven so easily.”

Accepting that that course of action was probably for the best — especially given what else had conspired in their efforts to get this far — they agreed to it. She presented them with a small bit of coin to help them out of the city and was surprised when Keros handed over the Blackwood amulet.

“This is… How did… Oh, Bran. What have you been doing? Please. Go. You have my thanks even in this dark time, but you must hurry.”

With brief words of parting, and more bowing from Keros as they went, the three slipped out of Blackwood Manor unseen and quickly made their way towards the North Gates. True to her word, they didn’t hear the alarm at Blackwood Manor until they were safely at the High Road.

And during the commotion in the North Ward, no one paid any mind to a shadowy figure knocking around a certain bloodied barrel in the Trade Ward with his walking stick, least of all three fleeing adventurers.

Over the next few weeks, Keros, Bonu, and Grumbar continued to travel the region together with their ears to the ground. Though no warrant for their arrest ever caught their attention, they did pick up word on the road that Waterdeep’s citizens were recovering.

It was a job well done — bumps, murders, and assassinations aside.

Big shout out to the DMs at Arcana Games who provided the base for this adventure. You inadvertently gave us the jump start for one of our most beloved parties. ( We promise they aren’t always murder hobos. )