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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Nebulous" data-source="post: 4724925" data-attributes="member: 31465">Adventure #1: Merple's MishapPART ONEIt is another glorious dawn in Silverymoon, Jewel of the North, as the sun rises in a vermillion blaze, casting long shadows across the ground and spire-like turrets of the city.  The whisper of commerce begins early, and into this rising whisper walks the ranger Douvan Stahl. <img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/keep/silver3.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />He finds himself winding through the convoluted streets of Silverymoon while trying to reach his employer, one Merple the Moneylender.  Silverymoon is a unique place where the various races all live in harmony, and he enjoys his stroll down tranquil neighborhoods decorated with bright flowers and exotic trees brought from all across Faerun.<img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/silver2.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />He eventually leaves the residential area and reaches Diagon Alley, an place he would not normally visit.  Spellcasters of all sorts make their living here, and he passes more than one shop housing bizarre items behind the glass; various stuffed imps with lolling red eyes and urns puffing smelly colored smoke; floating baubles spinning around mannequin heads and rows of twiggy broomsticks designated as: “ON SALE! TODAY ONLY!”[GM Note: I was reading Harry Potter at the time I wrote this, so some of the details leaked over]He finally reaches the unadorned door of Merple the Moneylender and raps the appropriate amount of times.  A squeaky voice announces: “Enter!” The door swings open of its own accord and Douvan steps in.  The place is the same as he remembers, small but cozy, a roaring iron furnace on the wall, a few shallow steps leading down to a den lined with bookshelves.  Merple sits in a chair behind a desk cluttered with pens, quills and a fat ledger book.  There’s a new item though- a large square cage draped by a blue cloth.  “Douvan!” he cries.  “Good to see you again!  How did you fare in Winterhaven?  Find anything interesting?”<img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/keep/merp.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Douvan starts at the beginning and tells him the whole story; the trapped bridge, the flooded excavation site, the dozens of kobolds, the human helping them, the bones and the mirror and the bugbears and Valthrun and the Shadowfell and the Griffon Guard taking the mirror.  Merple’s face changes during the story from extreme joy at the beginning, to glum disappointment by the end.“They took it, eh?  Sad, sad, sad news that is.  Very sad to hear.  It sounded like a most exquisite artifact!  Worth a coin or two, I’m sure, I’m sure. I hate to say this, but it is unlikely they will return it, Douvan.”The ranger is aware of this too, but doesn’t dwell on the news. He steps closer to the cage and is jolted when a pink tongue whips out. “CROOOAK.”  There is a huge toad inside. “Oh, don’t mind him. That’s Toady, a rare speckled specimen from the Evermoors.  Should make short work of the nasty rodents around here.  He’s quite nice, actually. I’m fond of him.”  Douvan takes his word for it.As promised, Merple pays his half of the fee for finding the Tomb of Blacksoul and determining that there is nothing there left to salvage. He insists though in paying Merric in person. Merple makes a few notes in his fat ledger book, emphatically dots the entry with his pen, and closes the book. “Well,” says Merple, “with that done, are you interested in a new job?  I always have several pots brewing on the stove.  For instance—”But Merple is interrupted by heavy pounding on the door. The pattern of knocks is very specific. He presses his lips together into a thin line.  “Oh my.  Oh my oh my oh my.  He’s early.  Very early.”Merple is flustered and stands up, wringing his hands.  Douvan is confused. “Not good, no no no.  Not good at all.  Douvan, you must leave.  Wait! No! He mustn’t see you leaving, no no no.  Hide in the closet here.  Wait! No! He’ll look there. Oh my oh my oh my, dear dear dear dear…”  Merple pushes Douvan toward the cage.  “Go in there with Toady.  Don’t worry, he’s very gentle!  Just be quiet and don’t say a word. Zip! Zip!”  Merple makes a pinching motion across his lips. Douvan stares at the dark cage with the big toad inside.  He doesn’t like the sound of this, but Merple is clearly upset. “Are you sure, Merp—”“Yes! Yes! Just go!” he hisses. “And quietly!” To the door he shouts: “Coming!  Just a wee moment!”Douvan is bustled into the cage with the wet, spotted amphibian, and a tongue lashes out to lick his arm. Or taste him, he isn’t sure which. There is not much room and Douvan maneuvers to the back, hunching down for as much cover as possible and peeking out through the dark fabric draped over the cage.  Merple has returned to his chair, pressing down the lapels of his coat, and then announces: “Ah…enter!”The front door creaks open.  A shaft of light spills down the steps, a shadow elongated upon the threshold.  From his position, Douvan cannot see who it is.  Footsteps slowly click into the room, and then the door closes.</blockquote>

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