LUNA GOT ARRESTED. She apparently had Anthony cast Speak with Dead on some of the suspects from the bombing and the guard (predictably) got back to her on it. The argument... she really does believe that she’s got the best solution to any problem. I’ll be fair, the guard is far from the most capable, but listening to her try to persuade the guards to let her continue... wow.
They gave her two weeks of labor and some fairly hefty fines. Anthony got his family to send her some money and I chipped in as well. Welcome to the club, dear. I sincerely hope this didn’t make Vajra mad at her.
Over the past month, I’ve been telling my story to the goblins of clan Goblinfox as well as any interested coworkers, which I suppose at least some of the goblins might count as. I conduct these tales in the faemote house. As faintly upsetting as it is to be back in the Faewild, the familiarity of my old living space is comforting. The observatory is fine for spring and summer weather, but I fear that the colder months may render it wholly unsuitable.
Regardless, I told them of the small brushes with goblin culture in the marshes, of the splashing and of the rest house. I then told them another marsh story of that damned fish, the one that’s carved into my blade. At the end, I summoned it and let it swim through the air. Much to Clord’s displeasure.
He’s so suspicious of the sword. Yes, it was Lewellyn’s. Yes, he went crazy and died and now I have it. It’s not wiggly star stuff, and that displeases me too! And finally, I would NEVER release anything dangerous onto a gathering of my friends and coworkers! The fish is under my command, as my... weapon. It was of no risk whatsoever.
I really must find some way to compile these tales into something more easily accessable. They’re quite fascinating.
.
Much later in the month, one of the newer assistants (a changling who calls herself Baby-Eater — also a regular attendant of my stories) told us of a strange encounter at the docks. Some man had invited her and the rest of the library to dinner. I decided to attend.
The man, Zardoz, really was... something. His ship was named Eye Catcher, and the two for his carnival were Heartthrob and Hell-Raiser. The men he employed were fairly handsome, though Zardoz himself was a little disconcerting. The man was coated in illusion magic and could sense when I invoked my... associate’s presence, which most people cannot. I do not trust him more than I can throw him, though I suppose I could fling him a good distance if pressed. Assuming he consented to being thrown; he does have that aura to him. Someone who talks like they think nothing of backing it up.
Regardless, we had a lovely dinner. Lance traded a story of Dark Market for more information regarding the nimblewright population of Waterdeep (there’s been an under-the-table sale of one to a noble family lately — perhaps our culprit?). Zardoz may take us up on a “safari” at some point, but I did invite him back for dinner. It is only polite.
Perhaps he is a dragon in disguise who has been granted passage into Waterdeep.
