Family Matters - Forgotten Realms Waterdeep Campaign

Session 16 - Garden's Side of the Story

Garden, you were walking back through the Blade when darkness suddenly descended upon you. In the utter gloom, you barely had time to hear the faint sound of feet before the sharp pain of a blade sliced across your side. You did have enough time to recognize the effects of drow sleep poison before you went under.

You awake sometime later (not too long, or so you think), gagged and trussed up like a pig for a roast, being hauled along by many hands through darkness. A few experimental squirms makes you realize you’ve been relieved of your possessions. You are hustled down one stone corridor after another, and through one snug one (even for you). You smell mostly wet stone, mold, and a faint bitter scent that seemed to come from your captors. Eventually you are set down and chained to what seems to be a wall by the feel of it. This final room is much larger, and smells of mildew and dust, along with more of the bitter odor. What few sounds you hear, scufflings and whatnot, echo as if it were a stone room.

Those who’ve taken you move away, and you can hear them whispering in a language you don’t understand. Then one voice, louder than the others, issues something that sounds like a command from the tone. There’s a beat of silence before another says, in Common, “Use the trade tongue; it doesn’t understand ours, fool.”

“Beer for everyone, and be quick about it,” the first voice snaps. An odd metallic clicking sound begins to trot to and fro in the room. It sounds like a metal chicken. Granted, you’ve never seen one, but if you had it would sound like that. There’s the sound of a keg being tapped in the corner, liquid pouring into mugs, and something being drunk by many people. Occasionally you hear a funny little voice say, “Five cop, five cop for mug house special, five cop.”

“Shut it, you aren’t getting paid,” one of your captors snaps.

The metallic clicking comes closer, and you smell good beer from a flagon being thrust under your nose. “Dwarven drinking ale. Pop-u-lar. Two sil.” You know that voice! By Tymora, it’s one of those homacals from the Bronze Gear tavern! Something tugs at your gag as the beer mug lifts to your mouth, but something comes flying by your head with a clang, presumably striking the homacal in front of you, as it pauses.

“None for him,” someone growls.

“Sor-ree,” it says, and scuttles off again. “Sticks is sor-ree.”

For long minutes you’re left alone, so naturally you test your bonds to see if you could wriggle free. Someone laughs nastily close by. “We can see you, little thief. Stop squirming.”

A barked command in that unfamiliar tongue by an unfamiliar voice causes silence to fall. In the quiet, the same voice speaks again, now sounding very confident and arrogant. One of the others near you ventures what sounds like a protest. Something rustles above your head, sounding like a leather tent, and the protestor goes quiet.

Suddenly someone strikes a twilight rod to life (they’re like the brighter sunrods, except twilight rods give off a faint blue glow and are more useful to those who can see in low light conditions). Now you can see, and the situation is not good. You’re in a cavern that’s been augmented in the past with worked stone, now crumbling. Low shelves like catacombs line the walls, and tucked away in each one are the familiar rags of a dark creeper. A round dozen creepers are at their leisure, drinking beer, counting loot from what looks like belt pouches and traveler’s packs, or preparing their weapons. Crates, boxes, and sacks litter the room. As you watch, two creepers depart, climbing up the wall to an aperture above, and two different ones return. Scouts, perhaps?

But what really catches your attention is the slab-sided stone “throne” against one wall. A tall, slender figure lounges there, twice as tall as the dark creepers, his “rags” far more elegant. His glittering dark eyes are cold, and he toys with a long, slender blade you know as an “assassin’s needle” – a very thin adamantine knife good for administering poison.

Above him, clinging to the ceiling, are what appear to be two dark leather tents, folded up. Except they each have several sets of dark eyes. And they’re breathing.

The man on the throne speaks to you in the Common tongue, and his is clearly the authoritative voice. “Do not bother to boast to me of your clan’s inevitable revenge, thief, for I doubt they will ever find your body down here in the dark. Though we shall be certain to save a piece so they know not to go where they are not wanted. You dare to think you can come barging into the Underdark with all the subtlety of a cave-in? Fool, you shall learn differently, and so shall your meddling friends.”

At that moment you hear a loud sound echo in the distance – Charissa’s gun! Far away, but that was definitely her gun! The leader suddenly douses the light, and hisses unknown commands as you all wait in the tense darkness. You hear daggers being drawn, low chanting from near the throne, and above you, the faint slithering of whatever monstrous pets are lurking in wait to kill your kith and kin…

Session 17

When we last left our intrepid heroes, they were trudging through the corridors beyond the portal in the Blade, armed with a mental map as to where the dark creepers, and their dread leader the dark stalker, had taken Garden. Pressing forward, the passage, according to the directions, was about to end in a large cavern that had in it an old, old fortress. It was partially natural, partially worked stone, atop a small plateau. There was only the faintest of natural light, from phosphorescent fungus, and the group was a little hesitant to show their own sources of light, but what else could they do if they went around stumbling through the gloom? With silence, if not stealth, they crept closer.

Inside the hideout, Garden had been left alone as the dark creepers readied themselves. He tried to wriggle enough to reach the concealed bone knives in the sides of his boots. He was sure he would have been able to get them eventually, but as he shifted the homacle, Sticks, arrived near him with its usual metallic clicking.

“Tableside assistance?” it asked. Figuring what did he have to lose, Garden said yes. “U-ten-sil?” Yes again, and Sticks took the knife near Garden’s fingers and began to cut him loose.

Out in the chamber, the rest of the party (plus Brother Darvin from the Temple of Lathander, and the octopus wizard Rich and his water familiar) had realized it was far too quiet in there, and set out to get Garden out before anything else could happen!

Several members of the party tried to ascent the short but steep slope up to an opening into the old fortress, with Evelyn and Steven and Charissa making it (Evelyn can climb in heels, oh yes she can), and William unfortunately doing a face-plant into the gravel. The noise apparently alerted some of the scouts, and knives began to rain down on the party from above.

Inside, Garden asked Sticks if there was any alcohol about, any flammable spirits.

“Fire-water,” Sticks affirmed, and pressed a glass flask into his hand. Popping the cork to check the contents, Garden nearly became drunk on the fumes alone. Yes, this would do the trick nicely. And did Sticks happen to have a firestarter?

“Twisted firestarter,” Sticks said, and put the twist-and-strike contraption in Garden’s other hand. Garden improvised a wick from a torn scrap of his hem, lit the thing and tossed it where he last remembered seeing the dark stalking sitting!

Outside, Steven fired an arrow up at one of the dark creeper snipers, catching him in the hand and making him tumble to the floor, to die in a burst of light. With the fortress now lit up from the inside, and the group backlit outside, more knives began to be thrown from the dark creepers who’d concealed themselves behind crates and barrels and sacks.

Rich summoned an earth elemental, and Darvin summoned one of air to go inside the fortress – elementals could see even in the dark, and if the dark creepers put out the lights again, at least they could try to rescue him or hamper the creepers.

Right then, the lights outside the fortress did go out, as the two darkmantles who had spent the last few moments working their way along the ceiling dropped on Shandri and Darvin. What followed was a both dangerous and comedic episode where both clerics struggled to free themselves from what were essentially attack umbrellas with tentacles, occasionally getting free just long enough to utter a cry of triumph, before the darkmantles wrapped them up again.

Meanwhile, the dark stalker had not been sitting in this throne so much as perching just above it. He leapt at Garden, stabbing him with his dagger, while Charissa shot at him from the doorway. Garden returned the favor, striking deep as the battle raged on. Steven was not having much luck in trying to beat the darkmantles off the clerics, and William took several wounds from daggers. He did ask Shandri for help, but as she was rather wrapped up at the time, she uttered several muffled words that probably didn’t bear repeating. (Though she did heal him once the darkmantle had finally be wrested off and dashed upon the ground to be stomped on. But she was grumpy about it.)

With several dark creepers dying, many more fled into the dim cavern, and even the dark stalker quit the field. Garden tried to put a dagger in his back but missed. Once the party was reunited with much back-slapping and sarcasm, they realized there were many exits from this place, and the creepers had taken most of them.

However, in their haste, they had only taken the smallest and most portable of their ill-gotten gains. Lighting more torches, the group realized there was a small warehouse’s worth of goods in their hideout. Crated and disassembled furniture and vehicles, along with a small amount of coin (and an ungodly amount of copper), a couple of wands, and a goodly amount of various trade goods (sacks of wheat, boxes of tools, nails). They agreed to split what they’d found with Darvin and Rich (at least to some extent… Darvin was more forgiving, but Rich was definitely more mercenary. Garden did give him an octopus ring he found though.)

Evelyn declared herself greatly hungered (she had been awake for two days at this time), and Sticks, ever-eager to serve, made her a fresh darkmantle steak. It was actually surprisingly good! He also kept trying to offer everyone mushrooms, but nearly everyone declined. Also, when Charissa heard Garden calling Sticks a "homacle," she face-palmed and painfully corrected, "Homunculus."

The group discovered there was one larger passageway out of the caverns, which led to a secret entrance to a dockside warehouse. Perhaps the goods would have been disassembled further to transport them elsewhere, but for right now, the group had a place to temporarily put what they’d found. Evelyn recognized one of the carriages they’d found from a description she’d heard at a party, and the group realized they could get a handsome finder’s fee for most of this stuff, as well as getting in good standing with the Merchant’s Guild, if they alerted them and tried to find the owners of the stolen things.

Never one to pass up a good opportunity to 1. Have other people do the heavy hauling and 2. Get favors in useful places, they went to talk to the Merchant’s Guild. Quickly. Very quickly. Before the dark creepers came back with reinforcements…

Whoa, you've really used some awesome, crazy ideas there in your story. An awakened octopus wizard? A wemic paladin? A friendly beholder? Homunculi, dark creepers, wax golems, pseudodragons? Allf of these elements do not tend to be used very often (if at all), and I'm very glad to see you've strayed quite far from the usual goblins-undead-and evil-wizards path. Kudos!

Session 18

When we last left our intrepid heroes, they had just defeated a band of dark creepers, rescued Garden (or perhaps provided a distraction while he rescued himself), and were taking possession of their ill-gotten goods. Having discovered that there was a passageway that led to a warehouse where presumably the goods were funneled undercity, they would use the same route to get everything out. Where the dark creepers took the goods after that was somewhat of a mystery, as the majority of the things left behind wouldn’t fit through any other passageways out of the cavern. Presuming things had come from the warehouse in the first place, where they went after that and how was a puzzle. There might have been magic involved somehow, but if so it had been invoked far enough in the past as to leave no sign of itself to discerning eyes. Beyond that, they couldn’t hazard a guess.

Knowing the dark creepers might gather their courage and return, Garden and Charissa went to the Merchant’s Guild to report the stolen goods (and not incidentally, get their guards and porters to move the heavy stuff back). At worst, provided they were believed, they’d get a finder’s fee. At best, they’d get to keep the stuff after it went unclaimed.

The Merchant’s Guild is actually a layman’s branch of the Church of Waukeen, the goddess of wealth and trade. The Guild provides transportation, logistics, security, recordkeeping, and claims. The fees to get in it were quite high, so it was generally used mostly by those who dealt in expensive items or high volume, but there were enough benefits that those who could afford it, joined. It is a generalist Guild, focused on the mechanics of trade rather than any specific item or service. It would be less useful to people like Garden or Charissa, who deal in small, local trade in the middle and lower classes, mainly. But if Evelyn’s dress-making and fashion house business takes off, for example, she might be advised to join, as her expensive items would be traveling far.

Garden and Charissa reached the local office of the Dock Ward near noontide, and were passed by a nervous clerk to a more authoritative fellow who questioned them carefully. Garden to great pains to say he was acting on the authority of Evelyn and Steven Violette, thusly getting their names on the report over his. When pressed, Garden said he was an “associate” of theirs, though it was clear that Merchant Master Kavo was under the impression Garden was at least a part-time employee. Kavo took out a book of missing and stolen goods and had the twain tell about what they’d seen to verify their story. He did indeed match a few descriptions, enough to believe they weren’t lying about what they’d seen.

With dispatch (as the Origamis reminded him that the dark creepers might come back), Kavo summoned “Squad Three.” They proved to be a dozen half-orc merchant guards in studded leather, bearing short swords and axes, along with several porters and a couple of wagons. Garden got the impression that if this claim would have proved false, he would have been held responsible for the expense of fielding the Guild’s guards. So he tried to be friendly with their captain, named Red for the usual reasons, and they returned to the cavern in short order.

Meanwhile, the group was divvying up the goods. Altruistic only to a point, even William knew that trying to find the owners of several thousand loose coins or various common items was pointless. So the group gathered up the coins for themselves, along with a few common items of no unique value. (Well, aside from an octopus signet ring which they gave to Rich.) Aside from that, there were many huge items, mostly disassembled in crates – carriages, a sedan chair, a pavilion tent, various items of furniture, all of them quite luxurious, but there was also a common pony cart, which they knocked together for goods transport (in the off-chance the Origamis failed to bring back help). One very unique thing they found was a magically-lightened chest, which contained within it a dozen bridle mastiff puppies, all held in magical sleep through enchantments on their collars. (The design on the collars, a dog’s head with a crown for a collar, was one of the details Garden mentioned to Merchant Master Kavo, who reported that was the sigil of the Crowned Hound Kennel.)

Sticks, the homunculus stolen from the Bronze Gear, was keeping Evelyn (and any others who asked) plied with darkmantle steaks. The group had a close eye out for any returning dark creepers, but oddly it was Sticks who sidled up to Steven and asked, “Expecting com-pan-ee for dinner?” while looking up. Peering past the glare of the torches and lanterns, Steven spied a dark creeper in a crevice near the ceiling, watching them. It either did not seem to notice it had been spotted or didn’t care.

As the group didn’t care to start another fight when everyone was still smarting from wounds, no one lobbed anything at the creeper, and the creeper in return lobbed nothing at them.

Shortly after that, Squad Three arrived and began to load up the goods – William had extensive and exhaustive lists, naturally. While the loading was going on, Brother Darvin returned to the temple of Lathander, saying his people would want to know more about the dark creepers. Rich, Charissa, William, and Shandri decided to backtrack and find those dark creepers they’d left in the grick pit earlier. When they got there, they were not entirely surprised to find a single set of dark creeper rags left behind, and the rest of the creepers gone. They had gotten free and killed the one who had talked. A little investigation proved that the portal the group had initially gone through was active again, which meant the creepers had probably escaped through there. Knowing trying to run them down in the Blade was just asking for trouble, they returned to the rest of the party.

The goods were taken back to the Guild, Merchant Master Kavo evaluated what was there, and thanked the Violettes and their “diligent associates.” There was indeed a finder’s fee for the obvious goods – and if things were not claimed by their owners after they’d been notified, the group could have them.

Evelyn and Steven recognized one of the carriages recovered, one carved with elephants, made for the triumphant return of the Jassarian family’s eldest son from his successful trading mission in the exotic jungle land of Chult. The Violettes wanted to be the ones to return it, and Merchant Master Kavo agreed (though he sent along porters and a clerk to make sure the Jassarians knew the Merchant’s Guild had done their part as well). The Jassarians were thrilled, and extended an invitation to the Violettes to come to their celebration once they had set a date.

Charissa also wanted to be present when the puppies were returned to the Crowned Hound, because she had been looking for some trained guard dogs for her shop for a long time. The kennelmaster was indeed grateful for the return of the very expensive pureblood puppies (worth hundreds of gold each to the right buyer). Hearing Charissa’s tentative question that she was looking for guard dogs, the kennelmaster said for her role in returning his prize hounds, he would be willing to sell her a pair of trained mastiffs (not purebreds, though) for half his usual price, if she would be there to help train them. Charissa was quite thrilled at the bargain.

Garden was gleefully counting up profits in the background. And wondering when his sister’s dogs would be ready to pull him about town in a gnomish dogcart of impeccable subdued style. (His alter-ego, a much more elderly gnome, could get away with such theatrics when it suited him.)

All of those errands done, there was one everyone wanted to do as a group, and that was to take Sticks the homunculus back to the Bronze Gear. (Garden had paused to get Sticks’ name put on him in gold leaf as a thank-you present.) When they entered the brightly-lit busy tavern, all the homunculi servers stopped dead, then ran to greet Sticks. The owner, one Killian Bronze, was very happy indeed to see him. (“There you are, good boy, now back to work!”) He offered the group a meal on the house as they told him the story of how the rescued Sticks.

In the next month or so, about half the items were reclaimed, but some were not, so the group got a tidy sum of gold and a few things to keep or sell as they saw fit. There were two large unclaimed items that they took – one was a carriage finely carved with waves. Evelyn spent some of her money to get matched white horses to pull it and send their servant-urchin Kip to driving school. Also she claimed a large red-and-gold silk pavilion tent, and was determined to have a garden party. (Or, well, a winter garden party, being as it was in the middle of that season, but such things were fashionable.)

Now that she was becoming somewhat richer, she started to spend some of her (and Steven’s) gold to get the Violette manse up to standards so they wouldn’t disgrace themselves when they did have that party. It would take some time, a month or more, to do what was needed, but until then, the Jassarian’s party loomed…

Also looming is William’s graduation from the Etorchul Academy, Shandri quietly becoming the Queen of the Street Urchins, Evelyn and Steven’s return on their investments (their joint venture in the silk market from the lung wang dragon, Wu Yen, as well as Evelyn’s fashion house idea), Steven’s continuing relationship with Ravinica the Golden Queen, Evelyn’s jealousy over said relationship, Garden’s deepening scheme with the Origami Clan Elders, and Charissa making something explosive. Or well, she would, and is, but she keeps getting visits from Sticks next door, and he keeps bringing her food. And little random bits of metal. Why? She’s not entirely sure…

Also of note, Evelyn was casting one of her favorite spells, Learn Heritage, on Charissa, just in case she might have some connection to nobility somewhere (she's slowly working her way through the group), and discovered Charissa has fey blood running through her veins! Some where, she cannot say, but Charissa has had the first hint of a clue about her blood parents that she's had in her life.

And Now For Something Completely Different

Evelyn's player is participating in community theater for the next couple of months, so this campaign will be taking a brief, three-session hiatus.

In its place, we will be playing a brief, three-session mini-campaign using Magic of Incarnum (though still set in Waterdeep) - Lost Souls

Session 18.5

DM's Note: Evelyn's player had one free weekend between the end of some summer obligations and GenCon, so we did another session of Family Matters before wrapping up Lost Souls the next week. Later this week we shall return to Family Matters for the foreseeable future.

This post is various e-mails to the players setting up session 19.

----------------------

Charissa, you are a dedicated worker. One who, upon occasion, will tune out things in order to keep to a task. Things like lunch. And not always because you’re doing alchemical work and don’t want to accidentally eat smokepowder. Yet for the past couple of weeks, every few days, a covered tray of lunch appears on your workbench as mysteriously as a mushroom – a bowl of hearty stew with bread, hot roasted meat on a crusty roll, some kind of steamed loaf with vegetables and sauce inside, nothing fancy, but often welcome in the cold of winter. It isn’t until the third or fourth (or seventh) time that you notice your benefactor – Sticks! You didn’t notice him immediately because homunculi are hardly unique in the Temple of Gond.

If you ask why he’s doing this, Sticks will tell you, “Am grateful for res-tor-ay-shun to my job. Would help others, but too far away. You are close. Enjoy!” It seems the kindness of your party have earned you a fan! Also, Sticks occasionally leaves little bits of metal, what look like little ingot ends that probably are falling out of the hems of people’s clothing in the Bronze Gear. It’s not a lot of metal, but put all of it together over a tenday or so and it’s enough to do a bit of experimenting and it doesn’t cost you a copper.

Now, you don’t pay much attention to gossip, but it seems that gossip pays attention to you. Or rather, people pay attention to gossip FOR you. There’s been talk that a plumacrafter from the far land of Maztica will be demonstrating something of his craft at an upcoming shindig. You recognize the term – your group returned a plumacraft chariot when you liberated those goods from the dark creepers. Purely on an academic, William-esque basis, it was very interesting to see those colorful feathers woven into a sturdy vehicle! And as a matter of fact, when you were taking a break to actually eat one of the meals Sticks had brought you, Lissa Threefingers came over to talk to you. (You remembered her; she’s the golem expert you talked to about wax golems.)

“So, if I am remembering right, you’re in tight with the Violettes.” With a nod of assent, Lissa went on, “It looks like the plumacraft, Kultaka, is only giving one public demonstration of his craft. And it’s at some party for a noble family, the Jassarians. Now, I can’t get an invitation. Something about how I ‘blow stuff up’ wherever I go, which is just exaggerating, says I! But you can. You know those nobles, the Violettes, and I just bet THEY can get an invitation. If you go and observe for me…” Lissa waves her abbreviated hands around, thinking. “I’ll owe you a favor. Deal?”

[Charissa said she’d do it, thinking she might be able to wrangle an invitation during the group’s bi-tenday meeting at the Empty Grave.]

--

Steven, Ravinica, the Golden Queen, is always very pleased to receive you at the Temple of Mystra. She is a quiet, dedicated woman, a scholar of ancient arts and magical transformations. She has been spending much of her time learning about the five hundred years she has missed since the Year of the Opening Flower. The temple elders, in return, are trying to learn about her. Though Ravinica is helpful, she hadn’t yet revealed all her secrets. She was, and still is, royalty, and the magical transformations she knows are nearly her only currency in this world without her kingdom. And she is a thrifty soul.

She finds you to be a calming and kind friend. Possibly, at some point, maybe more than a friend, but you are both cautious, practical people. You have patience. While she does get some amusement out of the social outings Evelyn drags her to, you know (because you can’t not) that she enjoys spending time with you pouring over tomes, or talking, just as much or more.

Ravinica does occasionally tell you things that would set some of your magical mentors on their ears. At one point she tells you, “My people were great travelers – not of great breadth, but of great depth. Rarely did we travel beyond our city walls, but instead crossed the boundaries of the planes, the worlds that lie parallel to ours, touching like pages in a book. We could travel between them, and established parts of our own kingdom not just in this world, but the others. I am as yet too weak and out of practice to travel, but if you were to go there, you might see the remains of what we built. We could bring pieces back with us, show how the simplest thing can change across the boundaries of worlds. Many of my people chose the life-power of the planes of energy to sink into their flesh, so that they would survive… Mayhaps, when I am strong again, you might like to travel with me?”

[Steven enthusiastically said yes. Part of this was genuine affection for Ravinica. Part of this was also the desire to not be where his sister was. Really, who could blame the man?]

--

Evelyn, you realize the Jassarian’s party will not just be a homecoming celebration for their son (Kovalo), but also something of a merchant’s showcase for what was brought back, as well as anything else in the family’s business. This is hardly unusual; with Waterdeep’s merchant nobility, a smart family would turn a mere social visit into business. Not vulgarly, of course. There would be “demonstrations” and “party favors,” but many informal contracts can be agreed upon during these parties.

The Jassarians deal in exotica – in addition to goods from Chult, they’re also having a demonstration from a Maztica plumacrafter, as well as a display of rare beasts in a magically heated menagerie. There should be ample inspiration for new fashion here, at the very least!

Ah, and speaking of investing, you’ve heard back from Wu Yen, your fellow dragon and your Kara Tur silk merchant. You invested the value of a flail snail shell, a good 3,000 gold to the right buyer. She sent a message that your investment has done quite well; you’ll be getting 4,500 back, 1,500gp more than what you invested. Huzzah! She asks if you will continue to invest, if so, how much. As for the remainder (if any), what form you would like the money in.

In regards to the house and fixing it up – it will cost about 1,000-gp to bring it up to the appropriate standards. The house itself is in decent enough shape, but over the years your family has sold many fine furnishings and goods, the garden is a mess, and you really lack enough servants for this neighborhood. Some of the money will go for interior and exterior redesign and some will go for year-long servant contracts. A really good “re-entry into polite society” party once everything is up to scratch will cost you somewhere between 300-500gp, depending on how many people you invite.

You also hear back from Madam Silverleaf. She’s begun to have some out-of-country orders come in. Only a few thus far, but it seems at least some are both reading and liking what they see in your magazine.

--

William – Your graduation from the Ethorchul Academy is excellent – in high style (you expected no less) with great pomp and circumstance. Your practical experience with your new friends let you pass your demonstrations very well, and your essays were… exhaustive. Your teachers dreaded no less. Shandri was there, blessed you without soaking your robes and gave you a gift of holy water she’d blessed herself, a hippocampus quill, and a waterproof writing book. She also had found a very nice bottle of bubbly wine to celebrate Order of the Vine-style!

Afterwards, you were approached by Lutharian Tashalorial, the elf Guild Wizard of the Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors, the one who gave you your informal entrance exam. He says he’s interested in having you essentially intern with them. You’d be paid for your work, or could just put what you’d otherwise be paid towards your eventual entrance fee to the Guild (as you both know you need a bit more experience and skill to learn to be a Guild Wizard). The Order can always use a good mind and keen eyes.

Should you decide to accept, Lutharian has a task for you, to attend a party being thrown by the Jassarians, a noble family, to observe the Maztica plumacrafter who will be putting on a very rare demonstration. Your relative youth and non-official status actually make you ideal, as the plumacrafter cannot possibly take offense at a curious young man as he might at a city official.

[William was thrilled at the assignment. Really, he probably would have done it for free.]

--

Garden, your contact at the Marlith, Hob Stonecypher, is all full of smiles when you come in to work one day.

“It’s good to have friends in high places, isn’t it?” he says, in a cheery way that usually precedes either a difficult job or a practical joke. “I take it you know Shanna Deeps?”

Ah, um, oh dear. Yes, yes you do. One of the ladies from the Busty Wench, bought a bodice dagger. A bodice dagger of unusual size.

“She remembers ‘dear ol’ Granther’ with his ‘pretty weapons,’ and remembers him well enough to have gotten the Marlith a bit of a display at a merchant noble’s party. Jassarians – they’re throwing a shindig and bringing out all the exotica. It seems Shanna is the,” Hob takes a minute to snort with laughter, “one true love of one of the Jassarian boys. She went on and on about all the fancy weapons you had in the pamphlets you were handing around, and Fellok Jassarian goes up and contacts us for his contribution to the family fortunes at the party. Looks like M. Granther is going to be pressing the flesh next sixthday.”

Hob can’t hold back his laughter, and guffaws into his sleeve until he gets control of himself. “Tymora must love you, lad. Make us some good profit and I don’t have to tell you to keep your ears open. Mask only knows what villains will be rovin’ at such an affair.”

Hob manfully manages to hold back another wave of mirth at his own crude sense of humor.

[All humor aside, Garden is ready to wade once more into the fray of merchandizing.]

Session 19

When we last left our intrepid heroes, they had all spent part of the winter tending to their various enterprises (see prior post). But knowing that Fate seems to have things in store for them, and business opportunities come in many guises, the group is still meeting at the Empty Grave twice a tenday to have supper and talk about anything that comes along.

Amongst other things that happened, William graduated from the Etorchul Academy. Shandri had already presented her gifts, and the others also had things for him. Evelyn had found him some dress robes (it was out of style self-defense), and Garden and Charissa had gotten him what looked like a very nice wand. But twist it, and the top came off, revealing a sharp stiletto to pierce the hide of the unwitting.

During one of these meetings at the Empty Grave, Charissa interrupted Evelyn’s delighted chatter about this party she was attending (the Jassarian’s homecoming party for their eldest) with the tentative request for an invitation. To which Garden replied that he was already going on behalf of a business venture, and Charissa could go with him as a demonstrator. (She would be both the booth babe AND the booth simultaneously.) Raising an eyebrow, William said he was supposed to go on behalf of the Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors, to which Shandri replied that she was going on behalf of the Order of the Vine.

Realizing that all of them were ending up at a party again, and that this probably presaged disaster, everyone called for a round of drinks.

During which, Garden sneaked out to go case the joint before the party the following week. The Jassarians lived in a fine house that had extensive gardens. A large tent was being erected there, and cages moved in for the menagerie.

While Garden was doing that, Evelyn was delighted to get most of the party into fancy clothes. Charissa was going to be wearing weapons, so it couldn’t be anything too terribly frilly, but Evelyn was determined to get her into something that wasn’t forge leathers or covered with alchemical stains. William too had to look like he belonged, and Shandri wouldn’t miss Charissa being styled by Evelyn for all the waters in the ocean, so both came along.

[Also, at one point during this week, Charissa both paid several urchins and also politely asked Shandri to be on the lookout for potential bards for the Order of the Vine. She was of the opinion that they definitely needed some trained bards as soon as possible. The first few seemed a bit too rough for the clientele they usually ended up serving (half-orcs singing bloody battle ballads on drums were a touch much), they did find one fellow they did want to interview – One Olaf Alehearth, a dwarven bard that played a xylophone of tuned drinking mugs. A project for very soon.]

--

The following sixthday, the party began. The Jassarians specialized in exotica – animals, foods, weapons, art, plants, people, the works. The eldest Jassarian son, Truvan, was circulating with three wild dwarf allies (very short, slender for dwarves, painted, pierced, and fiercely scowling) he’d made during his time in Chult. The rest of his guests drifted between the displays of things brought back from the jungle, along with related items such as exotic weaponry (displayed by Charissa, orders taken by Garden). Shandri was actually wearing a dress, of all things, using the diplomatic skill she’d gained in improving air-to-water-breather relations to subtly “bless” (i.e. water) the wine of those guests who were on the verge of becoming obnoxious, thusly doing her duty as a member of the Order of the Vine.

Evelyn, Steven, and Ravinica (the Golden Queen) were doing more socializing, though with Evelyn’s new business interests she was also bringing attention to the silk trade she was invested in, as well as her fabulous gown (“made by Madame Silverleaf, of course!”). That was hardly uncommon in these sorts of parties, and she had a few tentative nibbles of interest from some of the guests.

William mostly observed this or that until the bell was sounded for guests to come to the menagerie tent (where there was a tiger, a small crocodile, several monkeys, and many exotic birds displayed in cages) where the Maztica plumacrafter, Kultaka, would display his rare craft. William began taking reams of notes as Kultaka began weaving beautiful, multicolored feathers into helmets and shields, then lacing them with dusts, liquids, and powders as he chanted over them. He picked Charissa to hold a helmet he had just treated, and she was amazed at the steel-like strength of the seemingly insubstantial armor.

But as the demonstration went on, Evelyn noticed something odd. One of the cages behind Kultaka was a large cage holding a brightly-colored bird she’d heard called a macaw. The cage seemed rather large to hold it, but then again, it was a bird. But what truly caught her eye was that for one second, she didn’t see a macaw, but a bird-man the size of a fully-grown elf. But only for a second. What in the world…?

She sidled up to William, and then Charissa murmuring her observations. William could see through the illusion pretty easily, and was not happy at what he saw. They waited until the demonstration had concluded and dinner was about to start – the guests all filing out. Snagging the others, the party gathered around the cage. Evelyn cast a spell to enable her to understand what language the bird man was speaking, and they began talking to him. He was very depressed, but suddenly elated when he realized they could see him for who he truly was. He said he was Kreesh, an aarakocra, a native of Chult, and had been brought under a spell of illusion in the baggage train of Truvan Jassarian. His feathers provided extra power for the plumacrafter’s magic.

Garden went to free him from his locked cage, though fiddling with the lock at first also put him under the illusion of being a macaw (much to the group’s merriment) until he actually got the lock open.

Alarmed at the thought of any creature being enslaved, they asked a servant to bring Truvan Jassarian and the Lady Jassarian out (the younger son, Fellok Jassarian and his significant other, Shawna Deeps, came along as well). They explained what they had seen, and the color drained from Truvan’s face. He had his three wild dwarf allies brought from the dining room and questioned them in their native tongue. They said they had brought the aarakocra as a gift, and shrugged at the notion of slavery. (It seemed the laws of Chult were very different – if you were able to be caught, you deserved slavery.) Tersely, mortified at inadvertently causing another creature to be enslaved, Truvan asked if Kultaka, the plumacrafter, had known that the “macaw” was in face, an aarakocra. The wild dwarves said yes.

Lady Jassarian immediately called for Kultaka to be summoned from the dining room. The man was brought before them, and of her own volition, on the advice of both Steven and William, Lady Jassarian sent out for a priest of Mystra and a member of the Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors, those who helped police the abuse of magic within Waterdeep. After a delay (it was snowy), both worthy gentlemen arrived. Those present questioned Kultaka fiercely, pointing out the evidence, but no expression creased his face. Not a once. He might have been thought just very stoic and stubborn, but the party started to get a bad feeling about the man’s unresponsiveness.

Charissa felt the man’s cheek, and all but groaned and reported he felt waxy. This was a wax golem, an imposter! Lady Jassarian sent her servants to check Kultaka’s room. Shawna Deeps spoke up unexpectedly, saying he’d gone to “refresh himself” just as dinner had started. Cursing, the group realized Kultaka could have nearly an hour’s head start on them, if he had put his decoy into place just when they confronted the Jassarians.

Garden said he knew the streets of the city better than anyone, and as snow had been falling lightly, Kultaka would be leaving footprints. And a man from a warm climate would find the cold temperatures of the city punishing. The Order mage agreed, saying he was no spring chicken to go hunting people down. But he could aid Garden. He would send his familiar, a fox, with him to help track by scent when footsteps might become muddled, and who could alert them in Garden needed help. The priest of Mystra could offer a tile that, once broken, could let the user run faster. Looking around, they asked if anyone else wanted to join Garden in the chase, and who wanted to stay behind to see if any information could be elicited from the wax golem… one way or another.

Session 20

When we last left our intrepid heroes, Kultaka, the plumacrafter who had been complicit in enslaving an aarakocra, had fled from the Jassarian’s homecoming party, leaving behind a wax golem in his place. Quickly it was decided that Garden, Shandri, and William would go after him. The mage of the Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors sent his fox familiar with them to help track. Shandri had come for a party, not for a mad dash through the streets, so quickly ripped her skirts for greater mobility (provoking a shriek of outrage from Evelyn) and borrowed Grapes of Wrath from Charissa, and was ready to go.

The three ran through the streets, following the path through the fresh snow. Even though Kultaka had a head start on them, he was not dressed for the cold weather, not was he as familiar with the city. His sandals were also bleeding green dye into the snow, helping them pick out his trail when he crossed more trampled snow. Shandri quickly picked up Garden and carried him on her shoulders so they could keep up the pace. Going through one crossroads, they were ambushed! …By children throwing snowballs. A growl of disapproval in their directly and they scattered, and the group trotted on, the fox helping them stay on the right path.

A couple times they saw places where Kultaka must have rested, and once a place where he had attempted to climb to the roof, only to have the tile break under his hands, leaving an impression in the snow. Once Garden and William remembered that there was a duck pond ahead in the next intersection, and Shandri quickly detoured before they could slip. Kultaka must not have been so lucky, because there were slide marks on the snow, ending in a divot in a snowbank, decorated by a few feathers from his cape. But the tracks were getting fresher, and they knew they were close.

Finally they found had place where Kultaka had successfully climbed to the roof. Garden pulled out his collapsible grappling hook and thin cord, and snagged the edge of the roof. They climbed up, pulling William and fox after them. Peering in the dim light, reflected by the many lanterns and mage lights of Waterdeep, they actually saw their quarry! Kultaka was hustling along the roofs, his cape flapping in the wind. Shadri threw Grapes of Wrath, which wounded the man. Garden brought him his hand crossbow and fired a bolt smeared in drow sleep poison… into himself. He slumped on Shandri’s shoulders, asleep. William cast a spell of sleep, and this proved to be the key, as Kultaka slumped over. And began to slide towards the edge of the roof. Thinking fast, William cast the feather fall spell on him, getting him to the ground safely.

Shandri moved over to the place where he had gone over quickly, shaking Garden as she went to wake him up, and asked William if he had another of those spells available. He did, and cast it again as Shandri jumped off the roof after Kultaka. She proceeded to tie the man up (Garden helping as soon as he shook off his grogginess and embarrassment), and then Garden tossed the grappling hook up so William could climb down. Well, at least he landed in a soft snowbank.

--

Meanwhile, Charissa, Steve, Evelyn, Lady Jassarian and her two sons, Truvan and Fellock (along with Fellock’s one true love, Shawna Deeps), Truvan’s wild dwarf allies, and the aarakocra Kreesh were questioning the wax golem. More the first three than anyone else. The party remembered that Jayrin’s wax golem had three command words, a shutdown one, one that make them follow simple commands given to them by the activator, and a full personality mode. Evelyn thought to deactivate the golem and then reactivate it under her control to get information out of it.

The mage from the Order was very impressed that they knew the command words, and the party gave him a highly edited version of the story of how they’d acquired them.

The shutdown command worked well, but when Evelyn tried to activate it again, it suddenly lunged at her and locked its hands around her throat. Steven wrestled its hands off his sister’s throat while Charissa quickly deactivated it. Then Steven cut the golem’s hands off, and bound all its limbs to within an inch of its existence. Apparently there was a safety measure of some sort built into this creation. With the golem now tied, they tried again, and this time it worked.

Well, it worked so far in that it became active and wasn’t able to hurt them, but it wouldn’t answer their questions. The Order mage pondered and suggested that if it had been programmed to only respond to the one who it had been made for, it was likely, given their description of Yalla the golem maker, that the maker might have put in an override using a language he knew that Kultaka didn’t. The group remembered Yalla’s odd history, that he had been born an elf before being reincarnated as a halfling. Trying elven, the golem suddenly began to answer!

(The group was admittedly curious at first if Yalla had made this golem, being that Yalla was dead, but Truvan Jassarian pointed out that the Mazticans had been in the city for six moons, well before Yalla was killed.)

The golem mostly said yes or no, with occasionally a longer answer if pressed. With a bit of effort, they learned the following – Kultaka had dealt with the wild dwarves because the power of a sentient bird’s feathers would be incredibly potent to a plumacrafter. Apparently Kultaka had not scrupled to gain them. When asked if the golem knew where Kultaka would go if on the run, the golem said, “The Cage of Birds.” Translated literally from elven, that actually meant aviary, which would have been a powerful arsenal to a plumacrafter, though one of last resort, as it would be very obvious. It seemed Kultaka had been on a mission of personal aggrandizement, and woe to anyone caught in his way.

The Order mage sent a message to his familiar, who pawed it out in the snow for those bringing Kultaka back, asking where they’d caught him. Saying south, close to the arena (where the aviary was located), the group realized they had had a close call. Shandri hauled Kultaka back to the Jassarian manor, Garden have taken control of the man’s magic items, and William analyzing them for all he was worth (for when would he have the chance otherwise?).

The Order mage, and the priest of Mystra who had also come to aid him, would take the man to the Hall of Justice. Amongst Kultaka’s items were Kreesh, the aarakocra’s feathers, which the group gave back to him. Though no one had any additional translation magic left this day, through sign gestures and a few words of Common, William said he’d be happy to talk to him more in-depth tomorrow, and help him get back home (with the backing of the Jassarians, because they were utterly mortified and shamed).

During this time, Evelyn had chivvied Shandri into a back room, summoned Madame Silverleaf, and was attempting to fix Shandri’s dress. This was serious business.

Truvan Jassarian told the party he was incredibly grateful that they had not only stopped a crime and scandal from perpetuating under his family name, and had freed a thinking being from bondage, but had done so discretely. He said he would like to reward them, investing in whatever business ventures they held dear. Fallock and Shawna Deeps would be delighted to see Garden and Charissa’s shop (there was some private grumbling later about having to hide the less-than-legal display items), where the Jassarians would help them with materials and clients, etc. William asked for funding research, Shandri to sponsor urchins at the Urchin Postal Service, Evelyn for her fashion house business, and Steven… asked for an investment for a good friend (Ravinica, the Golden Queen, was doing private magical research of her own).

Shandri’s fashion crisis finally averted (with a new paneled skirt), the Jassarians were happy to have the group rejoin the festivities – a fine dinner, followed by dancing.

During the dancing, Evelyn was greeted by a handsome red-haired man, Gerrard Allard, as the music struck up, who asked her to dance. Steven, dancing with Ravinica, glared for all he was worth. As he was dancing, he managed to trip Gerrard several times. Evelyn had to lead the dance to save her suddenly-clumsy partner from disaster.

Shandri, a bit tired and chilled from her case through the snowy streets, had maybe one cup too man of hot mulled wine. She stayed on the sidelines with William, bemoaning about a friendly bartender she knew in her neighborhood. William finally took pity on her and danced with her himself… eventually positioning Shandri to get tapped by the sobering end of Grapes of Wrath, courtesy of Charissa, to shake her out of her maudlin mood.

Charissa was approached by a short, scholarly looking young man who introduced himself as Marlowe Miccar. He seemed terribly in awe of her as he explained he did find her wonderfully tall… and oh, yes, right, also he was supposed to be learning and making something of himself, and she seemed to have things figured right out. He explained he’d graduated from Etorchul Academy last year (and he knew of William, who had the longest entry essay in the school’s history). His family was mostly invested in the Clerk, Scribe, and Scriveners’ Guild, but Marlowe was interested in something a bit more… physical. He was interested in applying magic to the crafting process, and thought the weapons she sported were exceptionally fine, very good for enchanting. Did Charissa think he could be of use in her work?

Usually leaving business decisions to her brother, Charissa moved Marlowe over to where Garden was having several conversations with people. After the usual amusing introductions of, “little sister, big brother,” and an explanation, the Origamis were quite interested to have someone like Marlowe at their beck and call- er, that is, as a possible business partner.

On the bench next to them, Princess, Evelyn’s familiar, and Pico, Marlowe’s teacup poodle familiar, were comparing their fluffy white coats. Princess won, naturally. Pico was a very wise dog.

After the party, Steven invited Ravinica to come stay the night at the Violette manor, in the guest bedroom. Evelyn was utterly crushed.

And so, our story continues…

Session 20.5 - Steven's Duel

Steven set out early the day after the Jassarian’s party, a matter of family honor to attend to. Gerard had been far too familiar towards his sister, and that could not be allowed to stand. Evelyn’s reputation was not to be besmirched, not by a dandy like that, and not before a quarter of the prominent families of Sea Ward! Kissing a lady on the cheek without her invitation or permission, who did the man think he was? Knowing he had to do his brotherly duty (and perhaps taking some pleasure in it), Steven went to make a call.

A quick pass by the Halls of Justice and the Temple of Tyr assured him that the duel would be appropriately monitored and not get his family nor temple into trouble. (As satisfying as it would be to just slap the man with a steel gauntlet until he cried like a child, Steven wouldn’t sully his family name with a blatant crime.) The early hour assured that Evelyn wouldn’t even think of wondering where he was until noon.

He arrived at Gerard’s house, armored and armed, and waited for the man to be brought to him. Puffy-eyed and suffering the after-effects of a touch too much wine, Gerard came down to the foyer with ill grace. Upon which Steve took out his leather glove, stiff with cold, and struck the man smartly across his cheek and insolent mouth.

“A duel for my sister’s honor. In an hour, on the dueling grounds.”

The slap seemed to have gotten Gerard’s blood flowing to his brain, and he paled a bit when he recognized the purple-scaled man was the brother to the woman he’d kissed in public last night. Steven left him sputtering protests.

An hour later, seconded by Sir Julian, a friend from the temple of Mystra, a pale-faced Gerard arrived on the snow-covered dueling grounds, seconded by an extremely large man who had to have had some giant blood in him somewhere. Or had possibly gotten into an enlarge potion spell as a baby and it had stuck.

“Sir Violette, my affection for your sister remains true! I would not have shown my affection were it not!” Gerard protested, once he was in range of Steven’s hearing.

Steven’s answer was a glare, and he drew his sword. The Warden looked at both men with a raised eyebrow, and gestured to the circle carved in the snow.

“To first blood, gentlemen. And then the matter is settled. Any trickery on your parts, any attempts at murder and you will be branded a criminal. May Torm see this duel through and honor be satisfied!”

For a moment Steven thought Gerard’s courage would fail him, and he would call his monstrous second to take his place. But with a bit of a hard swallow, Gerard tossed off his fur cloak, took up his rapier, and placed himself en garde.

Gerard was not trained as a warrior. A best, the man knew dancing better than fighting, or at least he only knew the sort of fighting that looks lovely but could only take down a drunken thug. Your sword clashes against his lighter blade, and though he makes several theatrical flourishes, you soon slip under his guard and flick your blade across the top of his shoulder. Red stains the blue silk there, and he yields with a faint gasp of pain.

“Sir Violette, you have won with honor. May this quarrel between you be satisfied,” the Warden said, with a stern look at the both of you.

Gerard moves aside, allowing his second to bind his shoulder, and halts Steven would he would have left.

“Sir Violette…” he pauses and winces as the bandages on his shoulder pull. “Truly, I meant no dishonor to your sister. I had… had a bit too much wine, really, and she is lovely and kind.” His second hands him a flask, and he takes a sip before passing it to you. It smells of fine cherry spirits. “My apologies, sir?”

[Steven's response]

Steven will look at Gerard with a little distain. "You have acted a boor, and so far seem unworthy of my sister's attention. She is a fine and virtuous woman (bluff check?), and is only worthy of the attention of the most prominent and powerful men." He says. "If you want to be seen in the company of my sister again, you will have to prove to my parents that you are worthy and can provide a substantial dowry for her. Otherwise, if I see you so much as glance in her direction, then we will have to have a far more.... serious... discussion".

[DM's response]

Gerard seemed very contrite, possibly aided by the wound in his shoulder, and said he would call upon her parents to talk very soon. It was clear, from the way Steven talked that the Violette family would be providing no dowery. Being as they were spellscales, and descended from dragons, potential suitors provided a Bride Price - a potential hoard, as it were, to anyone who wished to marry into the family.

Sessions 21 & 22

When we last left our intrepid heroes, they had captured Koltaka and won the gratitude of the Jassarian family for their discrete saving of their reputation. That next morning, more fun and games began. Steven challenged Gerard Allard (a fellow who knew his sister and had kissed her on the cheek, in public no less!) to a duel, and scared him even more when after the duel, after subtly threatening him to treat his sister well, had told him female dragons eat their mates, and only true and virtuous love would save him. Good luck, there.

Some of the Jassarian family, namely Fellok Jassarian (the younger son) and his fiancé Shawna Deeps would be coming to see Garden and Charissa’s shop. The arrived late one morning a few days after the party, and (since Garden had cleaned up his shop of all hints of less-than-legal enterprises) took a tour of the place. Fellok was very taken with Charissa’s gun, and wanted to fire it. While she was taking him through the various instructions (and helping brace him for his shots), Shawna told Garden she’d be right back, and slipped out.

Not too much later, Shawna was knocking on William’s door (he was staying at his uncle’s place in the Dock Ward). She explained to him that she knew his cousin Shandri, and really needed their help, as they seemed to be the sort of people that could help others, and not just the rich and powerful, but the unknown and unregarded as well. Shawna explained she had a friend, a fellow dancer from the Busty Wench tavern called Shell. She had been entertaining at a ship called the Singing Lark and hadn’t made it home last night. People had seen her leaving the ship safely, but after that Shawna had heard that she had been lost sight of near the temple of Umberlee (the ill-tempered goddess of the ocean). Shawna was getting rather worried, as Shell was a cautious woman who could take care of herself, and it wasn’t like her not to check in back at the Busty Wench. And Shawna, having climbed to a higher social stratum than many of her friends, was determined not to let Shell fall through the cracks.

William, being the good-hearted sort and certainly not one to let people go missing in his neighborhood, said he would look into it. Shawna thanked him, kissed him on the cheek, and gave him one of her calling cards (which were stored in her cleavage, naturally. One probably could have put calling cards, rations for a week, a tent, and a small dog in Shawna Deeps’ cleavage.).

A little later that day, at the party’s meeting at the Empty Grave, William explained the situation. Since over half the party lived or worked in the Dock Ward, one couldn’t stand the thought of people being captured or kidnapped (Steven), and the last knew a good favor on the horizon if she saved the friend of fellow social climber (Evelyn), they all willingly went to look into things. Along the route from the Singing Lark was a bar called the Rusty Nail (one well-known to Shandri, as it contained a bartender she was sweet on, a fellow called Randal), and the group stopped there to see if Shell had been by.

The bartender remembered her vaguely, but the night had been busy. He called over his bouncer, a viciously scarred half-orc with very sharp tusks called Mangle, and had the group talked to him. After plying him with a few gold pieces (which Mangle bit holes in to string on his money belt), Mangle said Shell had been in there the previous night. She’d been talking to a priest of Umberlee called Brother Lyric, and the two had left together, willingly as far as he could tell, for the temple.

(As an aside, there were several ships’ crews in the Rusty Nail, most notably the all-woman crew of privateers from the Screaming Harpy. Steven gave them Gerard Allard’s address, just because.)

Thusly armed, the group headed for Umberlee’s temple. The place was situated right on the water, with part of the stairs leading right into the ocean. It was made from stone as well as ships shattered by Umberlee’s wrath, the temple soaring to great heights above their heads from the hulls used to form its walls and roof. Shandri, being from essentially a rival church, and Garden, on general principle, decided to stay outside… just in case. The others entered, and saw the ocean was very present here, waves lapping from many tide pools in the floor. Whale bones, squid beaks, shark teeth, and giant pearls were used to decorate the walls and altar, while treasure from temple donations and sacrifices proved that Umberlee was one of the great goddesses of Faerûn.

Asking after Brother Lyric, the group was brought to a back chamber. They inquired about Shell, and Brother Lyric said he had indeed been with her the other night, and that Shell had asked about converting to Umberlee’s faith. He had sent her to Salt Isle, a small shrine out in the harbor, so she could undergo rituals and instructions to dedicate herself to Umberlee. He seemed to be very sincere and believable but Steven was pretty sure he was entirely full of manure. However, they had nothing in particular to get him to tell the truth, no real evidence, and so decided to leave, possibly to go to Salt Isle in person and find Shell.

Meanwhile, outside, Shandri and Garden had noticed the periodically people bearing Umberlee’s holy symbol would step down the front steps of the church into the water and swim out in the harbor, bearing large clam shells strapped to their backs (and presumably magic to help protect them from the cold water). Such things would make superior waterproof containers, but they were also just big enough hold a slender woman like Shell. Because Shandri had some power of the ocean to breathe water, she had Garden keep watch for any more trouble, went a little further up the docks, and slipped into the ocean to do a little spying.

She returned a while later, after the group had returned to Garden and relayed their suspicions, blue around the lips from cold, but reported that Salt Isle had an entire underwater extension, a sort of pillar of salt that ran to the bottom of the bay, just barely encrusting the wreck of a large ship. And that the shells were going to Salt Isle.

Going to Salt Isle openly wouldn’t work, the party decided, as none of them had a good reason to be there, and Shell might be in an area not open to the public. It was basically ridiculous that she was truly converting to Umberlee’s faith, but it might have been possible that she had been magically charmed or enchanted. Either way, Brother Lyric wouldn’t want anyone finding her (someone so smarmy must have wanted Shell silenced because he said something he shouldn’t). So the group had to go in another way.

And Garden had just that way. You see, he aspired to learn the ways of the gnome artificer, and thusly had made friends with the Spectacular Order of the Flaming Falseness (who did pyrotechnics and illusions for players), the Noble Assembly of Mechanical Muses (who created unusual mechanical objects), and the Aquatic Order of the Darkening Deeps, who used their submersible vehicle, the Dancing Duck, to help patrol the harbor.

Each of those Orders or Assemblies was the name of the same group of people – three gnome artificers of great talent and small sanity. Their leader was Quintucket Duckle Macramé Fusse, known as Quint. He wore everything braided, from his clothing to his hair to his moustache, bore a pair of goggles constantly, and had a nose for the exciting and the absurd. Grinkle Forswaithe Freemantle Klabble, known as Grin, was an expert in explosives and guns, and carried no less than four pistols (including a pepperbox) at any one time. The last was Almoga Mulberry Minglebat Prickle, known as Almo. She was a potion expert as well as a fine navigator, and wore a portable still of magically hardened glass that wove around her body.

The group met them in the Rusty Nail, and after the Aquatic Order of the Darkening Deeps had paid their usual damage deposit, listened to the group’s proposal with interest. And said they’d help, because it’d be fun.

Oh, would it ever.

The group climbed down into the Dancing Duck, and Quint shooed them into the underground viewing chamber, which was sized for big folks. He mentioned the Duck would be in illusory stealth (“manta ray”) mode as they made for the ship at the bottom of Salt Isle. Quint said his group would not be going in with the group, but rather keeping the attention of Umberlee’s people above the level of the ship so the group could look for Shell without attracting too much attention. But they did have something for them that might make exploration easier. Almo gave them a goldfish in a large clear bladder filled with water. When the fish was released, it would make the water breathable by both air and water-dwellers, keeping them from drowning. Also they gave them a great horn that would be heard underwater, letting the Aquatic Assembly of the Darkening Deeps know when to return for the party.

With the fish and horn in hand, the Duck docked at a portal on the top deck of the ship (which was dry and had air to breathe), and the party quickly went aboard as the Duck went up to begin their distractions. The group began to look about, and found two things. One, the stairs down to the lower decks was flooded with sea water. Two, a storeroom was full of waterproof kelp suits and stiffened kelp-and-sharkskin flipper. Everyone in the group put both a suit and flippers on, released the magic fish, and went down to the lower decks.

What they saw was horrifying. Hammocks were cradling the large shells, and many of them were being tended to by ixitxachitl (sentient evil race of manta ray-like creatures). And by “tended to” that means the ixitxachitl were stabbing their poisonous tails into some of the shells. William could see transmutation magic was going on in all the shells. The ones at the back seemed to be most recently arrived, so Evelyn used a spell that compelled one of the ixitxachitls to give her a gift, namely something it was holding. Namely the newest shell at the back of the room. It did so without question, though one of the other ixitxachitl spoke to William (he looked the most aquatic of the group; also he luckily spoke Aquatic), asking him if “that one was going to be replaced, because it wasn’t ready yet.” As William explained (backed by Shandri, who spouted off some of Umberlee’s dogma) that certain specimens were needed for other purposes, Evelyn got two more ixitxachitl to each give her another shell. Charissa and Shandri shouldered them without complaint.

The lead ixitxachitl complained about “the deal being altered,” and if they didn’t have replacements for those three by sundown, there would have to be “a discussion.” William and Shandri made reassuring noises while everyone backed up and out of the water, and then everyone all but dashed upstairs, gathered their clothes, and had Evelyn blow the horn to summon the Dancing Duck. Judging by the insane laughter coming from some of the barred passages above, and some muted explosions, it sounded like they were having a good time.

The Dancing Duck picked them up quickly, and Quint and Grin asked the party to mount the cannons and harpoon guns on the Duck so they could fend off the huge, ill-tempered sharks that were after them. Charissa hadn’t had this much fun in an age, and the Dancing Duck wove through the deeps as the group fended off giant squids and sharks until they’d reached quieter depths.

Hours later, they were able to double back and come up at Shandri’s Temple of Istishia. They took out the three shells, and explained what happened to Shandri’s superiors as they worked to open the shells. Inside one was Shell herself, still alive, but she’d been changed. Her skin was slightly blue, and slightly scaled, and her hands and feet were slightly webbed. And she had gills. She’d been lying on a bed of gold and silver roses, apparently a material component for whatever ritual that had been being done to her, in order to preserve her beauty.

Inside another shell was a man who’d been warped into a horrific clawed and fanged fish-creature with bulging eyes (shards of crystal had been in his shell). He was still alive, but had no memory of his prior life. Evelyn carefully lured him into one of the temple’s underwater retreat cells (the man could barely tolerate breathing air) to keep him from hurting anyone. The last one, a young lady in armor, hadn’t survived her transformation. There was a sword in her shell, one made of black metal with very faint runes of evil, though they were nearly worn away.

Shell, though still shocky, explained that Brother Lyric had inadvertently told her he was making some deal with the ixitxachitl for “Umberlee’s Glory,” and had magically charmed her to get her to Salt Isle when he realized she could reveal his plans to people he’d rather not have known.

Evelyn said that Shell would be more exotic now, and thusly could command higher prices. Shell thanked her rather dubiously.

The group sent messages to the Temple of Mystra, as well as the Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors, who all met at the Temple of Istishia. A full assault on Salt Isle was out, as getting into a holy war against Umberlee would be a disaster, but everyone was in agreement that this would not stand, and a confrontation must be made…