Family Matters - Forgotten Realms Waterdeep Campaign

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Session 11

When we last left our intrepid heroes, they were leaving Yalla's shop in the Dock Ward, only to be attacked under the shroud of magical darkness by shadowy, knife-throwing figures. With Garden and Evelyn wounded and asleep from the poison on the blades, both Steve and Charissa swung into action. Though Steven had been wounded, he'd managed to resist the poison and quickly pulled his sister to the relative safety of the store. Shandri healed him and promised she'd heal Evelyn (though Steven said it might better if she remained asleep). Steven, with his better eyesight in the dark, pointed Charissa towards one of the shadowy figures. It stabbed her in the gut, but she bashed its head in with the Grapes of Wrath. Unexpectedly it exploded in a burst of eye-smarting white light.

William got himself pointed in the right direction, fixing the location of their foes from the flash, and unleashed a color spray spell on them. One dropped unconscious, while the other fled in fear from seeing its comrade die.

Inside the shop, a flung dagger nearly skewered William! They looked up to see one of the shadowy figures had gotten inside and was flinging daggers from the rafters! William cast a spell of sleep, making the creature fall to the floor and break its neck. The death-flash blinded William, but just after that, the darkness lifted and the party found itself with one unconscious dark creeper (for that was what had attacked them) and two bundles of clothes and goods from the two who had died. The rest had fled.

Quickly, the party took bound creeper, goods, and Jayrin’s golem back to Garden and Charissa’s shop. The dark creeper was a very belligerent captive, saying the party had honed in on the creeper gang’s turf, and that his brethren would hunt them down and kill them all. He was quite the unrepentantly evil and nasty sort.

Unsure of what to do with the captive, as turned in to the Watch he could reveal their interest in Yalla’s shop, let go he would start a blood feud, turned into the Shadow Thieves he’d probably be executed but just might give them the same information he’d give the Watch just to be spiteful, and killing him out of hand went counter to the morals of some of the party, the group started a spirited debate.

And so, our story continues…

DM's Note: This session was shortened because the spirited in-character debate led to some out-of-character arguments and we had to stop before things boiled over.

 

[Azkorra]

Please let me be the first one to state that I really like your story hour. I haven't caught up with all posts yet but there's been good writing combined with a nice crime mystery and interesting characters (I particularly like the gnome) so far. Keep up with it!

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Session 12

Azkorra - Glad you're liking the story thus far! We play once every two weeks, and I usually do the write-up on the Tuesday or Wednesay before we game again, so from now on there should be an update every two weeks or so.

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When we last left our intrepid heroes, they had a captured dark creeper and were trying to decide its fate. Given to the Watch, it could implicate the group in some shady dealings, set free, he would try to kill them, given to the Shadow Thieves, he'd end up dead assuming he didn't try to trade information on them first, and killed he wouldn't bother them... though killing him in cold blood was repugnant to most of the group.

The group argued amongst themselves, debating the merits of various options, when Shandri put in her own two coppers. It might be possible to redeem the dark creeper. There were a few religious orders in the city that redeemed the otherwise unredeemable, and who would not care about what he said. The Temple of Ilmater was famous for that, and the Order of Saint Alphone handled some of the most hopeless and difficult cases. Pondering that, the group decided that would be a good choice for their wayward captive. Garden and Charissa would take him there, while Shandri and William took the Jayrin golem to the Watch.

It was the third watch of the night by the time Garden, Charissa, and a knocked-out dark creeper in a wheelbarrow (Steven had taken great pleasure in knocking the fellow out) knocked on the door of the Order of Saint Alphone. After a few minutes, the gate opened. A vast floating sphere, large as a horse, filled all the available space. It had ten eyestalks around its crown that blinked at them, a huge central eye, closed, and a vast toothy maw, slightly open. It was a beholder, one of the most vile and ill-conceived monsters to have graced the waking world! The beholder stared at them, and in a deep voice said, "You rang?"

Once their hearts had calmed down and their pants had been changed, Garden and Charissa did recall that one of the advertisements of the Order of Saint Alphone was their "Before and After" pictures, one of which included this very beholder, whose affectionate nickname was "Lurch."

They explained about their erstwhile companion, and Lurch used his telekinetic eyestalk to lift the creature up and examine him. He said the Order had done many good deeds, and always worked hard to save a wayward soul. They'd be happy to take the dark creeper. When Garden brought up the notion of payment, Lurch said that doing a good deed was payment enough, but if they wished to donate to the church, he would be happy to accept. When brother and sister proffered their coins, Lurch, having no hands, stuck out his tongue to take their money, and spat it out in a donation box inside. Lurch noticed that Garden was hurt from the fight earlier that night, and hit him with a golden beam from one of his eyestalks, healing his wounds. Charissa felt she had to warn Lurch that the dark creeper was part of a gang, and they might take exception to their comrade being here. Lurch only grinned in a way that reminded both of them that beholders were considered extremely dangerous for a reason, and said few were willing to risk breaching the Order's walls.

Needing a drink of something, the Origamis quickly returned home.

William and Shandri went to the Watch Hall, abutting the Temple of Helm, and asked to speak to the Captain. (Before they went inside, Garden climbed up the golem put a cut on the golem's cheek so it clearly showed it unnatural nature. Just in case someone managed to activate its memories, it would have a harder time of convincing people it was human.) They were able to speak to the UnderCaptain of the third watch, and told their story with a mind to the fact that they had... bent the law a little bit in their pursuit of justice. William said that his scholarly impulses had overcome his good sense when he went to the secret room of Yalla's shop (all the while Shadri was making evocative gestures behind William's head, corroborating his story), but he knew of Jayrin's description, and thought him having a wax golem could lead to nothing good. The UnderCaptain seemed to be honest, and more-or-less believed them (he didn't arrest them at any rate), so William wrote down the command words, and the UnderCaptain Craig said he would start another investigation into Jayrin's activities.

Content with that, the de Mers returned to their homes.

Evelyn decided to take the time to both do a good deed and get a good toehold into high society at the same time. She left a message for Lady Wands, and was invited to her house the next day. Once there, she told the Lady Wands that the two men most likely behind the Higharvestide debacle were said to be bastard sons of her house, which was why the House had been attacked. Also, that between her efforts and those of her friends, Geb had been forced to keep a low profile, and Jayrin was under investigation by the Watch. Those others who had helped him had either died, fled, or revealed themselves to the Lady (i.e. Charissa). Lady Wands looked upset, but not particularly surprised, and said her late husband had been a connoisseur of women. But now alerted to who was behind the attacks, the House could focus their attention on those directly responsible, and for that, she thanked Evelyn.

Those thanks came in a very tangible form over the next few weeks, as she received invitations to parties and gatherings she'd never been to before. Very high society things. It'll be like swimming with sharks. Evelyn was delighted.

With those responsible for the Higharvestide attack all neutralized one way or another, at least for a while, the group drifts apart for most of the month of Marponeth, tending to their own jobs, tasks, research, and other opportunities. But the Feast of the Moon is fast approaching, and considering what happened with the last big holiday, each member of the group has a sneaking suspicion that something is coming up, and soon...

 

[pakistan786]

Thanks for the share

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Session 12.5

The characters had about a month and a half of downtime, from halfway through Marponeth all the way through to the end of Uktar and the Feast of the Moon. Every player either e-mailed me plans for what their character was doing during that time, or told me verbally. Here is what they all got up to.

Garden

You'd sent a second message back to the Origami clanhouse, and a third by magic book asking if the clan might want to increase their presence in the city and how things were getting a bit complicated, what with some of Waterdeep's elite knowing your face. You'd hoped for a letter, or perhaps a verbal message. You got Calla Breek Snorpthangle the Thirty-Second and a Half (she's a twin) one of the Penultimate Folds, those who report directly to Grand Master Crane. She's also a gnome, a bit taller than you, but with a nose that could be used to plow half the fields of the earth, it's so prominent. Her nickname (gnomes love names) is "Beak."

"You," she announces, coming into your shop during a slow day, "have gotten yourself into trouble." She perches on your counter a tosses you a folded paper raccoon, a traditional gnomish sign of luck. "Good work. Let's talk about how you can make some more. We're too new in the city to dislodge the Shadow Thieves, and to be brutally frank they keep some of the mayhem to a minimum. Getting into a war with them would be... costly. But it doesn't mean we can't command a bigger piece of the pie. You're in a unique position to help the clan because of what you did for Lady Wands." She pauses and raises an eyebrow. "Anything else that happened in the last week or so I should be aware of?" (The DM assumes you're willing to be very forthcoming with a member of the clan, let me know if this is not so and you wanted to edit portions of your escapades.)

Calla puts her chin in her hand, grinning when you talk about how you appointed yourself as the Wands' private detective and looking both concerned and impressed when you tried to tell the Shadow Thieves that Jayrin was marked for death. "Not that he didn't deserve it, being as he was behind you getting hurt and more than likely a culprit in the attack on Charissa. But the fact the Shadow Thieves protected him... interesting. He must be doing something of value to them. He probably had to go underground after you exposed the fact he was killing children wholesale, plus the whole bit with him having a golem double doesn't exactly making him look innocent. And his brother the priest will have to be more discrete from now on.

"Which gives you the opportunity to do some things free of murderous interference. What plans do you have, Ru?"

She listens as you detail wanting an apprentice to run your shop as you try to expand your influence into higher circles and nods thoughtfully.

"That's a good line of thinking. I was bringing some apprentices over anyway, those traveling to points beyond the City of Splendors, but there is one who might suit. She's a dwarf, name's Nira Darkfire, good hands and a quick mind. More comfortable with staying in one place than not, and I think she'd much prefer learning here to heading off to Silverymoon or the Dalelands. I'll have her come up today. As for stumbling upon something she shouldn't... she's a dwarf. Word is bond, when she isn't so monofocused than an earthquake couldn't get her attention. Tell her she shouldn't see something, and she won't.

"Get on establishing yourself at the Marlith, because I can see all kinds of possibilities if Lady Wands or her staff isn’t embarrassed to seek you out, eh? She could send her friends to a respectable shop, rather than have a disreputable person such as yourself,” she winks, “call upon them. I’ll get Nira up here soon, and once you’re sure she knows her way around, get thee hence to the Marlith.”

Calla goes back to her own business, but lets you know she’ll be in town through the Feast of the Moon at least.

Nira shows up right on time, a thin (for a dwarf) woman with black hair tightly braided, wearing sober and respectable clothes. She has the very basic aptitudes for a locksmith, and could definitely do simple repairs, but isn’t up for complicated installations yet. She is good with numbers, well, at least she isn’t going to mess up your books, and gets your cypher system (or a variant, if you don’t trust her with the master cypher) in a mildly disturbingly short period of time.

“Blood clan had no use for a girl who liked numbers more than runes, amongst other things,” she tells you with a shrug. “Origamis did. So they let me in.” She’s quite taciturn, which gave at least one customer quite a turn when she stirred behind the counter and startled someone who hadn’t expected to see her there.

It was the first time you’d seen her smile. You think she just might do, at least for a start.
With your shop in competent hands, you move on to establishing yourself in the Marlith. Hob Stonecypher, the owner, grins when he sees your new persona. (And he’ll ask your new name. He’ll call you “Granther” as a nickname for the “aged old gent” until you give him your name.) In between customers, Hob will grill you on the inventory and the right lingo. In two tendays, you think you can manage a conversation with someone in your new persona about exotic weapons and be able to both look and sound like you know what you’re doing (assuming the person is not too suspicious).

[The following bits here were in response to several questions by Garden’s player, in taking classes to prep his character for taking the Gnome Artificer prestige class – it’s the first time he’s taken one, and we tweaked the prereqs a little.]

During mornings/evenings, whatever times of days you’re not working or sleeping, you can attend classes in engineering, alchemy, or gem-cutting at the Temple of Gond. Charissa even knows the names of some good tutors. Fees for such classes run about 10 gold a tenday, with a 25gp materials cost (40gp for gemcutting, ‘cause… gems). Charissa can help you with alchemy classes if you want to go in that direction.

As for the Artificer – most prestige classes can’t be taken until you’re sixth level or so. Assuming you focus on getting all the relevant skills, you could take your 1stlevel of Gnome Artificer as your 6th character level. So you’d be a 5th level rogue, 1stlevel Gnome Artificer. We collectively decided to dismiss having the spellcasting requirement, as Garden will be learning how to imitate magical effects with his devices without the use of magic. If you have any skill points to spare, it might be appropriate to throw one or two into the Use Magic Device skill to show you know a thing or two about how magic works (or looks, or both).

The Gnome Artificer basically makes you into the Wizard of Oz – great special effects, just don’t look behind the curtain. With a bit of looking around, you can find a tiny little group of three other Gnome Artificers in the city, two from Lantan, one a native of Waterdeep. They do three things – provide special effects for theatrical productions, experiment with things that make some of Charissa’s experiments look tame, and provide protection for some of the Deepwater Harbor’s aquatic residents against their more aggressive counterparts. (Think, if you will, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea – with three half-crazed gnomes in a tricked-out submarine patrolling the harbor for killer sharks, murderous sahaugin [fish men], and nasty-minded scrags [water trolls].) Though they like turning their talents in that direction, they’re really up for experimenting with anything.

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Charissa

You KNEW there was a reason there weren't that many pistols in Lantan. You've seen them. Held one once. Seen them fired. But there still aren't all that many of them. And do you know why? Well you figured it out once you started doing serious research into the crafting of one - they're BEASTLY hard to make. And expensive! Finding an alloy that can not only stand up to repeated rapid firing, but also magical bullets (because you're going to get some made, by Gond, someday!) involves a lot of experimentation. Gunslingers are not terribly thick on the ground, even in Lantan, and not even your mentor would have given up the secret to gun manufacture to you (the better to develop your own engineering skills), so you knew this was coming.

On the plus side, this does involve a lot of cool explosions. On the down side, it does involve a lot of cleanup.

What brings you to your breakthrough is, strangely enough, Evelyn's shoes. You were making bladed shoes for her, and getting a tough alloy that could stand up to days, weeks, or months of Waterdeep's streets isn't easy. It actually was dovetailing off of your own research into tougher alloys. That was when you realized what would make the alloy perfect. Adamantine. Not pure adamantine, because that's outside your purse and your fuel costs for the forge, but a small amount of adamatine introduced into a toughened steel... yes! That's it!

Then there's the whole finding the perfect combination of adamatine to steel thing... But you're a step in the right direction, a huge step!

In between banging on metal and making things explode, you do have to take some breaks (to let the metal cool, to let the metal heat, to get out of the forge before your fellow Gondian co-workers ban you because they've heard more talk about guns than a reasonable being can stand...). Never to let a moment go to waste, you heft Grapes of Wrath, the book of the Order of the Vine, and go to talk to the Vinters, Brewers, and Distiller's Guild. The Order of the Vine has been extinct for a century, and you think it's high time they saw the light of day again (and attaching it to the Vinters, etc. Guild would be a good first step, because you certainly don't have the gold to re-found the order from the ground up). You tell your story to a bewildered youth at the door, again to a mildly confused junior member, a third time to a Head Brewer (who'd actually heard of the Order), who finally passes you off to a Master Brewer, a dwarf introduced to you as Rumlar Stonehead. He's exceptionally stout, with a beard like foam in a mug, carrying no less than six fine mugs hooked to his belt.

"Hah!" he says with delight, when you explain your story yet again, that you'd like to reactivate the Order. "I remember them. Met one or two back a ways, but they were getting thin on the ground by the time I'd even learned about them. Fun-loving crew, the few times I worked with them. Good for maintaining a good crowd, kept parties respectable, gave us all a better name. Aye, I wouldn't mind having them back. Now, are you the only one?"

(After you answer, Rumlar will have several other questions for you.)

"I remember having members of the Order at our larger feasts to help keep the peace and provide a little background on some of the beverages. The drinking games and songs they could come up with... better than bards, they were! What is it that you're doing now, being as you couldn't have been born in the Order? And how did you find some of their artifacts?"

"Hmm... tell you what. I'd like to see the Order again, but I certainly can't go sponsering people willy-nilly. With the Feast of the Moon coming up, it's a good time to stage a trial run, eh? You and the other members of the Order, come to the feast here at the Guildhall and we'll see how you do. Let's see if we can't capture the old spirits." Rumlar chuckles hugely at his pun, and reaches out to tap a nearby keg. He deftly fills two mugs and hands one to you. "What say you? What can you bring to our feast, O Bouncer Immaculate?"

[The following is several e-mails back and forth between me and Charissa’s player]

"No there are four of us. My brother, a young wizarding student, and a priestess of Istishia. During a recent investigation into amber oozes we discovered the tomb of the last three members of the Order. After taking care of the amber ooze problem we found a powerful illusion that was a record of the last members. The had us each pass a test, which we all passed, and told us we were members of the Order. I have these, (showing Grapes of Wrath and the book) as tokens of that experience. I'll talk to the others, but I'll be more than happy participate in the Feast of the Moon here at the Guild Hall."

Rumlar threads his hand through his beard and tugs meditatively. "The tomb, eh? I should like to see that... well, perhaps not disturb their rest but... bah, idle speculation. If you and your friends could come, this might be a good coming-out party for the Order. Brush up on your drinking games, Origami, because there's nothing a dwarf clan likes to do to honor their ancestors better than a good drinking game.

"Have you the old costumes? Or are you updating those as well?

"If you end up honoring the old Order, I'll pass a hat for donations to sponsor you. If not, well... at least you won't go hungry that night. Be thinking on what you'll want to do at the party, other than make sure no one downs a gallon of rotgut and pukes into the roses, or starts throwing punches. I have fond memories of the Order, few as they were." He eyes you carefully. "Don't sully them, my young tinker friend."

"We'll make sure you and yours have the chance to honor your dead, Brew Master. As for the costumes we will be both honoring the old, and bringing in some new touches to it. I wish to bring honor to those that have gone before, and give a fresh start to the Order."
Charissa will be relying heavily on Shandri and her brother for good drinking games since she has avoided alcohol as drunkenness and explosives mix just a little too well...

"Tell me one last thing, youngling... You seem a sober and respectable sort, at first glance the kind that might look down their nose at the Order. Their hammer is impressive, yes, and rather fun, but you seem to be the sort to be married to their work." He flicks his fingers at the burn marks on your cuffs and the scars on your hands. "Why devote such effort to bringing the Order of the Vine back?"

"I respect their ideals and after the 'situation' with the amber oozes I feel that they are needed. I want people to able to celebrate without the fear of death, dismemberment or embarrassment. The Knights of the Vine can give people the assurance that their feasts and celebrations will be enjoyable and that all present will be relatively safe, at least safe from things other than a bad hangover and the occasional poorly sang drinking song."

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Steven

With Evelyn wrapped in some project that left her safely ensconced in an office with Madame Silverleaf (the seamstress and dressmaker) on a regular basis, Steven used his expected free time to call at the Temple of Mystra and put some of his skills to work. Years of guarding his sister from harm, perceived threats, and any man’s gaze had left him with a reputation for being able to handle anyone, at least when it came to dealing with large egos. Also, his combat skills were impeccable, and he’d proved himself against a ghostly dragon, no less!

So, in between hunts for the mysterious Gerard, Steven took on several side jobs. (As a note, Steven has been hunting a “Gerard” for a little while. During the dark creeper attack, Evelyn had fallen asleep from a poisoned dagger smeared with drow sleep poison that wounded her. In her sleep, she said, “Oh, Gerard,” in a familiar manner. Steven has since sworn revenge, just on general principle. This “Gerard” needs a good talking-to, whoever he is.)

Steven has been meeting several mages, some from abroad, others from the mainland, all of whom came to the Temple for guidance and protection as they went about their business in Waterdeep. As many were skilled magicians, they could have defended themselves… if they weren’t caught by surprise, if they had the right spells ready, if they were not in the middle of item creation or some other ritual that took all of their dedication and concentration. Hence they asked at the Temple of Mystra for a bodyguard, and Steve was one of those that stepped up to help.

So, in the month and a half he’s had free, Steven had spent time at the sides of two noted summoners, an abjurer so frail her own magic must have been holding her together, a universalist wizard from far Maztica (all in colorful exotic brocade and woven plumes), a transmorgofist who never spent more than half a day looking the same, an urdinnar (stone-shaper) dwarf who might have been mute, and one memorable day he spent carrying a fox familiar around the city so his master could get a good look around without bestirring his ancient bones.

Luckily Steven had not had to draw his sword during that time, and only had to chase off a few potential pickpockets and endure the somewhat confusing chatter of high magery (hardly his strong suit.)

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Evelyn

Your lessons in magic are actually going quite well. You've gained several admirers (how could you not?), other students of the Arts. You still aren't particularly interested in how other people tap their magic, as it seems to involve tedious memorizing of musty tomes and incomprehensible diagrams and handling all matter of noxious substances, but figuring out magical threats and magical creatures? That is actually quite interesting, particularly as several of the noble houses have magicians in their ranks. Also, there's a good section about magical creatures, including dragons, and what self-respecting spellscale wouldn't like to know a thing or two about their distant ancestors?

Naturally the section on dragons includes a talk about the Dragonward. You learn that the ward supposedly covers the entire city, though your instructor's hand gets a little vague when he delineates the borders to the south. Having seen much prevarication before, you have a suspicion that the extreme south of Dock Ward might not be as well-covered as the rest of the city. If any other dragonkind wanted to get near Waterdeep but couldn't convince Maaril the Dragonmage that they deserved entry, they might be there...

But what happened during your interview with Lady Wands? This might have been what Evelyn was born for. While you hadn't exactly hoped to attract the attention of one of Waterdeep's most powerful families by being peripherally involved in an attempt at their downfall, you really can't argue with the results. After telling Lady Wands about Jayrin and Father Geb, the Lady is understandably grateful. And she chose to convey that gratitude by allowing Evelyn entrance to social circles she hadn't been sure she'd ever been able to penetrate. A Higharvestide festival is one thing, but usual gatherings quite another, much more exclusive. And, if you are being honest with yourself (a rare and solemn occurrence), you realize that if you hadn't got caught up with your little band of miscreants with their funny ways and appalling fashion sense you might have never been able to capture Lady Wands' attention so directly.

The gatherings are like swimming with sharks. The merchant nobility of Waterdeep combine the shrewd business-sense of a caravan master along with the power-brokering of the titled. These are not parties for the faint of heart, or pocketbook. As very impoverished minor nobility, Evelyn is at a disadvantage. You've backed no business venture of you own, nor have your parents (not for decades, at least), nor do you have investments in a guild, or own any businesses of you own, but you've kept your ears open in the marketplaces and can speak about stores and trade routes and goods with a degree of certainty. And as for the social scene? You've been keeping track of that since you had ears.

Wardrobe is a little trickier. Granted, it's Marpenoth, and Madam Silverleaf has a new gown for you (fine midnight-blue wool plush, deceptively simple with expert and very flattering tailoring, easy to wear with most choices from your jewel chest), but with as many invitations as you've been fielding, you've had to be creative. Madam Silverleaf's creations can be taken apart and put together with her other things she's made for you, letting Molly expand your wardrobe to the eye without putting a single new thing in your closet. And there's always the silver armor dress to make a statement.

It's when wearing that during a reception at the Guildhall for the Guild of Glassblowers, Glazier and Speculum-Makers (mirrors) for the advancement of Brella Talmost from Prentice to Master that this comes to a head. Someone inevitably asks you where you got the dress. Social conventions prohibit you from saying you got it as a guilt-offering from the Markovian family when you were instrumental in killing the possessed son of the house. Well, they prevent YOU from saying it, but being as the Markovian family has suffered a Scandal, other people can say it first, and then you can elaborate on your Dramatic Rescue and how the dress came into your possession.

"And you caught Wands' attention at that Higharvestide tiff, oh! Such quality! I heard you were presented with some, what, of the help that stepped in to aid you?"

[The DM wanted to know what Evelyn would say about the De Mers and the Origamis – after talking with Evelyn’s player, essentially Evelyn said they were “concerned citizens” she was happy to “assist in making the city a better place.” Her society friends found this very amusing.]

There also a new wrinkle in your social rounds. More often than not in the past, you interacted with those of your own generation, with occasional polite conversations of their elders who were sponsoring the gatherings. But now the median age of these gatherings you've been attending has risen, and with it, the topics of conversation. Here the political and monetary maneuvering is more intense, the scrutiny more jaded, and the stakes are ever so much higher. It's the kind of circles you've been aiming for. But maybe not one you've been preparing for. Because a fruitful topic of the merchant nobility of Waterdeep is money, something you mostly have a vague acquaintance with.

But it has become clear to you that at some point you are going to have to take steps into the world of business in order to snare the biggest fish that you want. Of course you'd prefer the details to be handled by a competent underling, once you can hire an underling, but something will have to be done in at least a minor capacity now. The obvious choice is to open a shop, though that's terribly tedious. One could invest in a caravan trading venture, perhaps, and hope your shrewd sense of fine goods would let you pick a profitable one. You could sponsor a fighter or racer on the Fields of Triumph (a large, open-air arena) and hope that they win, eventually building up a stable of winners. You could sponsor an upcoming bard or magician, covering certain expenses (room, board, practice space, help them in finding an audience or clients) now in exchange for a portion of their profits later.

You could even sponsor one of the many adventurers or adventuring parties in the city, the ones that test themselves in Undermountain or perform various other mercenary services. (The plus to this is that you could "sponsor" them by finding out information for them, or goods, say, rather than in coin, for an exchange of some portion whatever they liberate in the course of their "adventure.") Or you could do anything else you imagine, as long as it lets you speak about business ventures with authority. Money speaks a language all its own, and your accent in that language is not, shall we say, native.

But you can make it be so. You went from fine social butterfly to having a personal interview with Lady Wands herself in less than a month. Truly, there's nothing you can't do.

[After speaking to Evelyn’s player, she came up with the following idea

A casual acquaintance of Evelyn Violette would know that there are some things you never see her doing. For example, traipsing through the sewers, lying prone on the street, slumming in bad neighborhoods, and selling jewelry. But Evelyn has done all of that and more (not necessarily voluntarily), as well as making friends in low places. Aside from the street urchin, Kip, who she’s taken into her household, Evelyn has been making a point of returning to Sucker Street on a regular basis to become friendly acquaintances with Brother Sallis, the priest of Tymora who works in a shrine there. Though he’s not terribly powerful, and certainly he’s in a bad neighborhood, Brother Sallis is both flattered by her attention and happy to talk about Lady Luck. Certainly Evelyn knows she could use a little luck with what’s all been going on in her life.

However, selling jewelry is a new and somewhat unpleasant experience for Evelyn, but a necessary evil when a reputation (and more riches) are at stake. You see, Evelyn has a plan to garner more of the wealth she needs to maintain her lifestyle in the manner to which she wants to become accustomed. In trying to carefully move up the social ladder of Waterdeep, Evelyn knows she’s starting to hit a glass ceiling because she is not a merchant, and has very little money. In the merchant nobility of Waterdeep, money talks.

Realizing that, Evelyn decided getting wealth is all about capitalizing on what one is good at, and Evelyn Violette is good at being fabulous. And stylish. And beautiful. (And magical, that goes without saying, but since Evelyn doesn’t create magic items or anything in that vein, she’s not pursuing that route.) Now, showing the world that they could be a quarter as fabulous as her? And getting paid for it? That’s the perfect way to get a start on her fortune. In short, Evelyn wants to create a fashion broadsheet/catalogue and send it not only all over the city, but along major trade routes to other big and important cites – Silverymoon, Baldur’s Gate, Athkatla in Amn, and Calmiport in Calminshan, as well as further east in the Dalelands and around the Sea of Fallen Stars.

However, this ambition requires an outlay of gold to hire an artist to draw pictures of the fashions, a writer for captions, to have copies made, and for someone to distribute them. Hence, Evelyn decided to sell several of her more recently-acquired jewels to get ready gold. After converting several of the lovely things to coin, she first visited Madame Silverleaf, as her business would be prominently displayed as the place to go to get Evelyn’s fashions. Madame is intrigued by Evelyn’s idea and figures it will either not hurt at best, or garner much more new business if it works. Either way, she gives her blessing, as it won’t cost her a copper.

As for distributing the fashion catalogue far and wide, Evelyn already has someone in mind for that. Though she doesn’t exactly get along with the Origamis perfectly, they already have extensive trade routes, and she trusts that such profit-loving people will at least be competent enough to get her catalogues to where she wants them to go. A formal meeting with Garden nets her a reasonable price to send her catalogues out.

Next, Evelyn went to the House of Beauty, the temple of Sune, to find an artist. She had heard Charissa describe the place as being inside her head, and had wanted to go there for a while. After a lengthy and appreciative look around the place, enjoying the flowers, statues, paintings, murals, mosaics, music, and other forms of art, Evelyn asks and is directed towards one Lynn Havad, a young and aspiring artist. Evelyn’s actually seen her a time or two, sketching at parties she’s attended, so she’s familiar with her work in a vague sort of way.

Lynn is decidedly interested in Evelyn’s proposal, both as a way to distribute her art across not just the city but across several countries, and as a way to make excellent money doing what she loves. She’s also a calligrapher, and while she’s not the next great author, could certainly do some lovely captions on various portraits of gowns. About half of Evelyn’s money from the sale of her jewelry will end up going to Lynn for creating the broadsheet and copying it, and the other half to the Origami clan for distribution and return of orders (if any) for her first attempt. After that, she can negotiate anew, once she sees what the response will be.

The upshot is, Evelyn drags Molly to the House of Beauty and gets to spend two days posing in all her best gowns. This idea? One of the best she’s ever had.

Ever.

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

William

Now that things have calmed down since Highharvestide, you've begun to be able to integrate all the things you've learned in your rather exciting few weeks with your odd new friends. You've seen the magic in use at the House of Wonder (the Temple of Mystra), seen cursed red coral, viewed the ancient legacy magic of a tomb of merry, wine-drinking knights, seen unusual golems and familiars unknown to most, and stopped a most foul fate from bringing down a noble house by using your magic to help them see the truth.

Really, it's been a rather exciting few weeks!

All of this together has made you ponder your career choices. Though maybe you'd thought about working with your uncle, or maybe taking a trading trip with your father, or just setting yourself up somewhere as a scholar, seeing everything you've had makes you consider a wider and more responsible career path. In speaking with your career advisor, Nelara Gayne, (a full month before graduation, no less!) she nods and taps her finger against a framed letter on her desk, one marked with a symbol of a white hand, fingers together, against a purple field).

"Have you considered the Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors? From what you described to me [DM's note, as per your request, heavily edited] it seems like you might have the mindset for them. You've always been a good student, de Mer, and the Guild Wizards the Watchful Order trains are some of the most versatile in the world. They keep themselves out of heavy political crossfire, always to their credit, so no getting tangled up with nasty political backstabbing. They police other arcane casters, keeping us respected as solvers of problems, rather than creators of them. Some of them are contracted by the wealthy of the city to protect them from fires, you know, summoning water elementals and whatnot, a responsibility few others are willing to take on! And some aid those who are worried about being attacked by hostile workings of the Art. The last may be of most interest to you, considering what all you told me.

"Now, it's expensive to take their training, but worth every penny. If you think you'll be able to get together the money by the time you've reached the Sixth Tier of skill, I can get you an informal interview with an old classmate of mine. KuKaran Skullsplitter is her name - half-orc, as I'm sure you've guessed. And a rage mage to boot! She's in charge of knocking overenthusiastic spelldueller's head together on a regular basis. Suits her to the ground, though probably not quite your cup of tea. But she can get you in to speak with someone of a less... bloodthirsty persuasion."

In a couple of days, you find yourself in the workroom of one Mage Skullsplitter, sharing tea that tastes like it wants to fight its way up from your stomach and get into a punching match with your tongue. KuKaran is a massive half-orc woman, heavily tattooed and scarred, so heavily tattooed that you realize in short order that her spellbook is inked into her very skin! Her weasel familiar watches you with its mad little beady eyes as you drink, only backing down when KuKaren lifts him onto her shoulder so he can disappear into the fur ruff along her collar.

"Nelara tells me you'll be one of the brightest things to graduate from the Academy in an age. So, what's your interest in the Order?"

Assuming you say you want to use your magic to make a difference (or something along those lines), KuKaran smiles, showing tusks capped in ruby. "Not a bad place to start. It can be tedious at times - you wait and wait and then suddenly you're fighting a summon-happy drunk wizard who decides fire elementals are pretty and everyone wants to hug one." She shudders a little. "Bad night, that one. Or if you realize the rich visitor in town is using charm spells on everyone he meets, that's something you have to deal with. We don't work with the Watch. We're independent. People can contract us for certain things, but we also have our own discretion. The first rule you'll be taught is 'The Art is to be Respected.' You don't want people running screaming from magicians."

"KuKaran does, but then, that's her thing," a new voice adds. Twisting around, you see a fair-haired elf come in the back of the room and join you at the table. Wisely, he does not pour himself a cup of tea. His familiar, a tiny hawk not much bigger than a hand, grips into the padded fabric of his shoulder. His green eyes are huge and ancient as any elf you've seen, but curving blue scars mar his forehead in two places.

KuKaran grins, unabashed. "De Mer, this is Lutharian Tashalorial, Guild Wizard of the Order." The elf gives her a mocking bow and turns back to you.

"She's right though, about respecting the Art. That's the heart of the Order. They expect dedication from any who join, and if you aspire to be a Guild Wizard, they expect more. They'll find tasks for you to do, often dangerous ones, and all your time will not be your own. You'll be expected to join in quests, craft items, join in ritual magic, and do independent spell research... though if what KuKaran told me about you is true, you'll hardly find that a hardship." Lutharian smiles slightly and pulls out a thin book from his enormous sleeves, and plucks a pen from the same.

"Now, young de Mer, let us see what you're made of..."

William, he will question you thoroughly:

"What branches of magic are you interested in? What magic have you seen in action? What kinds of magic are you interested in learning?"

"Do you have a familiar? If so, what?"

"If you discovered a stranger casting compulsion spells, what would you do? A friend casting the same? In what circumstances would such magic be allowed, in your eyes?"

"Are you interested in magical crafting? What sorts of items? Do you have any ideas for new items?"

"If a rogue mage was casting fireballs in the Market Square, what would you do?"

"You're asked to drop what you're doing for a tenday's quest into a corner of Undermountain to contain a lichnee [he will explain this is a proto-lich]. You have a hour to prepare. What would you bring? Your companions are a priest of Lathander, a paladin of Kelemvor, and a professional dungeon delver. What spells would you prepare and why?"

"Name your five favorite spells, even those you cannot yet cast."

"Who is your favorite magician? Living or dead, human or not, and why does he, she, or it capture your admiration?"

[The below is William’s player’s response.]

William will of course already have his omnipresent notebook and pen out, and will flip through it occasionally as the questions continue.

1. I am still interested in all branches of magic...especially those that can control my environment or the field of battle.

2. I have had the opportunity to see magic from every branch of magic, from interactive illusions to the rampant magic present in the temple of Mystara.

3. I am interested in learning all that I can. I never know when a spell might come in handy, especially used in an unusual way.

4. I will have a familiar once I have grown sufficiently in magical strength. It is a construct given to me as payment for a favor.

5. If I saw someone casting compulsion, regardless of whether it was stranger or friend, the situation would determine my response. However, I would be more inclined to believe foul play than fair with that particular spell. I can't think of many situations where compulsion would be acceptable-preventing someone from committing suicide maybe?

6. Magical crafting is fascinating...occasionally my family will come across a magical antique. The creativity and skill involved is fascinating and admirable. I don't know how much time or effort I am willing to expend on that skill set yet, but I have done some papers on how one could modify the Book of Twin spell to create small sets of instant written communication devices. I am still developing and patenting the design. Looking at the pen in his hand, he will also say he's played with an indestructible pen with an inexhaustible supply of ink.

7. My first instinct would be to put him to sleep, or otherwise incapacitate them immediately.

8. That sounds like a good team to battle any sort of undead, so I would focus on spells to bolster my companions, like mage armor , and those that could make the lichnee vulnerable, like grease . I would try to pick offensive spells that could also be used on the other creatures in the area, since I doubt the creature will be alone.

9. Flare, Prismatic wall and wall of sound , virtually all the orb spells. And one of the most all-purpose spells, detect magic . I have learned so much seeing how and where spells are used.

10. I am not trying to cater to my alma mater when I say that I admire the founder of Eltorchul Academy (player can't remember his name). The pursuit, accumulation, and dissemination of knowledge is one of the most worthy occupations in my opinion, and the Academy is a grand legacy.

[DM’s response]

Lutharian seems be to very pleased with those responses. “Well said, young de Mer. I think you might do very well at the Order, very well indeed. If you can spare the time from your studies, I think we can see about getting you in as a scribe from time to time, just to get your feet wet. You can look through the chronicles as well as the more current duty reports and get a feel for things behind the scenes. I think that will give you the best idea of what we’re all about.”

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Session 13

When we last left our intrepid heroes, they’d had tied up many of the conspirators to ruin the Wands family in one way or another. The party has had almost a month and a half of people not killing them or having to figure out why that might be so. That doesn’t mean they’ve been idle, oh no. Each of the group has been pursuing their own agendas, improving their skills, making new connections, or making new things.

Shandri, amongst other things, had formed the Urchin Postal Service (UPS). A life-long resident of Dock Ward, Shandri knew that there were hundreds of orphaned or semi-abandoned children that scraped out a living on Waterdeep’s streets. Having seen Evelyn’s success with Kip, and knowing that having a good messenger in a pinch could be crucial, she decided to do something about that. She bought many sets of solidly-made brown clothing (on the grounds that it showed stains less) and began to make contact with the various urchin gangs. In exchange for new clothing, learning how to swim at the temple of Istishia, and having the backing of herself (and sometimes her cousin), Shandri would find the urchins work that paid real money. For the duty of carrying verbal or written messages (or small packages) they could earn more money for better food, or a place to sleep safely, than they ever could begging or stealing.

(More on what the others were doing during the rest of Marponeth and the month of Uktar was in the previous post.)

But now Uktar was over and the Feast of the Moon descended over Waterdeep. It was a winter holiday where people gathered to tell stories and legends of their ancestors and the gods, to where it was hard to say where one ended and the other began. Theatrical productions, street theater, and miracle plays would abound. Tables would be set up in the streets, and people would tell tales all through the night as they feasted.

One of Charissa’s projects during her time off was to officially revive the Order of the Vine. She didn’t have the money to start a whole new guild from the ground up, but she could try to attach it to another guild. The Vintners, Brewers and Distillers Guild, to be precise. Calling on all other members of the Order (Garden, William and Shandri), Charissa said she’d gotten a trial run of sorts for the Order. Master Brewer Rumlar Stonehead had invited them to the Guild’s Feast of the Moon, adding to the festivities with the occasional song or drinking game, as well as keeping any mayhem down to a minimum. If the Order did well, Master Stonehead would consider passing a hat for them, perhaps even sponsoring them in the Guild –giving them steady jobs and the occasional help with larger projects, as well as being under Guild protection. But this time they’d work for free.

Calling that fair, as while Master Stonehead remembered the old Order, but didn’t know Charissa at all, the group put on new purple sashes and went to the party. (And if you’re wondering at this point where Evelyn and Steven are, Evelyn had sent a message that she had the dragon flu, and required Steven to stay home to aid in her recovery. At least that’s what she said.)
Several Guilds up and down the street had put up outdoor tables, and colorful bunting hung from many of the buildings. The new Order of the Vine did very well –Having used Grapes of Wrath’s stored knowledge to sing songs, play games, and test apprentices’ knowledge of obscure beverages, as well as rendering sober the occasional overly-belligerent guest.

Things were going so well, in fact, that the party only really looked up from their duties when they heard roaring and screaming coming from up the street. They saw a different Guild feast further up the block, and in the midst of the surging panicking crowd was a wemic, his mane aflame yet causing him no harm, laying about with his fists, bowling people aside, roaring, “Where are they? Where are they?” It was Sir Firemane, the wemic paladin of Nobanion the group had rescued from the sewers two months ago, and he was drunk as a lord, and fighting mad!

The Order of the Vine swung into action – Garden literally, by climbing up on a balcony and swinging down over the crowd on a length of bunting. Unfortunately Sir Firemane still had excellent aim, and battled Garden down. A single member of the Watch present, a Halfling armed with a truncheon and frightened expression, was also batted away, even as Charissa and Shandri moved in. Charissa tried to hit him with Grapes of Wrath sobering head to clear his mind, but missed, while Garden tried to stab him in the paw (the closest portion of anatomy to where he was, sprawled on the ground) with sleep poison. Alas it did not work. Shandri tried to give him the blessings of Istishia (i.e. create water) to quench the flames and his temper, while William tried to daze him with magic.

The group managed to keep his attention on them, taking a few bone-shaking blows for their trouble, and got the rest of the people out of the line of fire. Eventually one of Charissa’s blows connected and Sir Firemane was rendered instantly sober. He was appalled at his own behavior, and grateful for the group’s intervention before he did something entirely unforgiveable. He gave the Halfling Watch officer his entire belt pouch to pay for his fines (the poor lad nearly fainted again), and told the party he had to speak to them urgently and ask of them a favor.
William piped up with why had Sir Firemane’s hair been burning, and he said it was blessing of Nobanion to his paladins.

That dealt with, Sir Firemane said he’d spent two months looking for the pilgrims he’d been guiding from the Shaar – Darin Kellen, Havar Gethain, and Bescar Jorim; the fourth, Oram Vitch, had been the one who’d died of the same coral curse which had nearly killed Sir Firemane. The other three had gone missing while Firemane had been ill, and he’d frantically been trying to find them this entire time. He’d found but a single clue – he’d seen a carved ivory bracelet that Darin had made himself during the thousand-mile journey to Waterdeep decorating a carved candle in the store window of a shop. Unfortunately Rest’s Chandler, owned by Bertram Rest, was a very tiny shop, and Sir Fireman couldn’t even fit inside. He’d hoped to catch Bertram during the Feast, but he apparently hadn’t attended, and Sir Firemane had become rather despondent.

Nobanion’s faithful were known for their bravery in the face of fighting great evil, not for the subtlety or investigative prowess, and Sir Firemane had been beyond the end of his rope. He drank half a tavern in his despair and then… Well. The party had seen the rest. He felt awful about what he’d done once the party had brought him to his senses.

The party pressed him for details, saying perhaps they could help. Sir Firemane said all four men were from the Shaar, and Bescar was from a noble house. His family was actually very wealthy. All four were theology scholars, and had embarked upon the epic journey to Waterdeep to study the differences in regional worship of the gods as they traveled. They’d meant to catch a ship to Maztica to study the gods there and how the related to Faerûnian gods.

Sir Firemane gave the group good descriptions of the three men (as well as their scent descriptions… which was interesting but not particularly relevant to anyone in the party), and said he would be eternally grateful if the party could find them. Firemane was a good hunter and mighty warrior, but he couldn’t investigate in a city. He told the group he was staying in a warehouse in the Dock Ward, and would retreat there so he could easily be found when the group needed him… and so he could pray to Nobanion about how to atone for his unworthy actions.

The group went to the chandler the next day, finding it to be as small as advertised, barely the width of the spread of a human’s arms. (Shandri looked snooty and mildly disdainful in the presence of so much fire the entire time there, out of religious principle.) The proprietor Bertram was a cheerful, elderly man with a short beard, and he was happy to talk. The group had noticed the bracelet in question, sank into a beautifully carved candle as part of its decoration. Many candles in the shop, including that one, were somewhat magical. William realized Bertram was a Candle Caster, a Chandler Mage, someone who could put magic into candles the way others did into scrolls or potions, and have them release the magic when burned.

Asked about the bracelet, Bertram said it was sold to him in exchange for many plain candles, and described and named Darin, the bracelet’s owner, as the seller. Darin had been in the company of a woman, a redhead with blue eyes, very beautiful. Bertram made a few evocative gestures when describing the woman’s charms, and Charissa bit the bullet and supplied, “She had huge tracks of land?”

“A vast estate,” Bertram confirmed.

That description actually rang a bell with both Charissa and Shandri – there was a woman called Lilah who worked at the Busty Wench tavern that fitted who they were looking for. Shandri had seen her around the docks, and Liliah had once bought some knives from Charissa for self-protection. It was decided, due to William’s… sensitivity, that Charissa and Garden would go to the tavern to talk to Lilah.

(There was a second reason the Origamis didn’t want the de Mers around, other than the fact that the Busty Wench was one education William was better off not having and Shadri would have a harder time manufacturing an excuse to go there. Garden had been establishing a disguised persona in an Origami clan operated shop called The Marlith. Wearing a false beard, eyepatch, scar makeup, and the artfully stressed clothes of a working artisan, he didn’t want the others to know about “old Granther,” the aged gnome salesman of unusual but highly respectable weaponry. Charissa knew about the disguise, because Charissa had gone into that very shop to buy some shurikens (Tymora’s chosen weapon; she chooses to honor various gods by bearing their favored weapons) and had seen through the disguise. Alas, she’s his sister. Invoking her special talent of willful ignorance, she had asked no questions, and he’d told her no lies.)

So, that evening “old Granther” and Charissa went to the Busty Wench tavern. The sign was in relief, naturally.

Inside, they spotted Lilah attending to a customer on the far side of the room. Charissa went to talk to her, ostensibly about the knives she’s purchased, while Garden was showing the ladies some drawings of concealable weapons from the Marlith. Like war fans. And bodice daggers. The ladies found that delightful, particularly when he described the colors available. So he took their orders while they fussed over him (and at his height, with them bending over, Garden got many excellent views). Order-taking involved some close measurements, and ribald joking if there were enough string to measure, or steel to make a bodice dagger for some of the more bounteously blessed of the staff.

With that distraction going on, Charissa was able to talk with Liah, who said Darin had sold the bracelet at her mildly exasperated insistence, as he’d run up a bit of a bill. (Studying the rites of Sharess’ faithful can be costly.) And he’d not only owed her, but Carla. The candles had been for her, as that was one of her specialties, hot wax. The pilgrims had wanted to talk with her, and Lilah hadn’t seen them in days.

Thanking Lilah, Charissa went to talk to Carla, who was dressed in leather (and was, upon asking, a worshipper of Loviatar). Carla said her time was money, regardless of what was done with it. Charissa put down coins periodically throughout their conversation. Upon hearing what Charissa wanted to know, Carla said the young men in question had wanted to talk to her about her worship, and had simply paid for her to talk (which amused her greatly). After listening to what she’d said, they asked if she knew about any other obscure religions in the city.
Carla told them there was an old temple down below the Warrens (a subterranean Halfling and gnome community below Dock Ward), now called the Temple of the Darkening Dawn. Apparently it was an offshoot of Lathander’s worship. They’d all gone there on the Feast of the Moon.

Thanking Carla, and finally extracting her brother before he’d smothered, Charissa returned to the Ship’s Lantern inn (where the de Mers were waiting) and let them know what they’d learned. With a young noble running around and an unknown temple uncovered, they all thought that Evelyn and Steven might be interesting in going along…

-------

Evelyn didn’t go the Order of the Vine’s revival on the Feast of the Moon, partly because she wasn’t a member of the Order, partly because she preferred being served at such parties instead of doing the entertaining herself, and partly because her (and by extension, Steven) had a better invitation. So she told them she had dragon flu.

The invitation was from Raxmathlinda, the song dragon. Dressed in their best and then cloaked to hide it, Raxmathlinda told them that the Dragonward that protected the city from dragons untouched by Maaril the Dragon Mage’s dragonstaff did not quite cover the entire city. And there were a few places where dragons could technically be in city grounds without being hit with the Dragonward’s aversion. She led them to what appeared to be a small, ramshackle hut. Knocking, they were admitted by a pale-skinned, blue-eyed man with nearly white hair, seeming only a handful of years older than they. It was cool inside the house, which seemed not only to be bigger on the inside, but infinitely finger, appointed like a fine manor house.

Their host greeted them warmly (which was ironic for reasons they soon learned) and took them to a fine chamber below, carved out of rock, draped with curtains of many colors, a roaring fireplace in one wall, and a large table in the middle, laden with food and drink. Four other people were already ranged about it: a woman from Kara-Tur, dressed in the brightly-colored, many layered silk kimonos of her people, a moon elf with very green eyes, a Halfling woman with blonde hair, dressed in copper cloth, and a red-haired dwarf in leather, bearing a surly expression. They were, respectively, a lung wang (Wu Yen), an emerald (Zotu), a gold (Micallbrecath), and a red dragon (Jukuminno). Their host was a white dragon (Karaxmegathron). This was the Waterdeep Council of Wyrms. Though their philosophies differed, sometimes extremely, they were united by the bonds of dragonhood… and their vague distrust and disgust with the Dragon Mage.

Everyone feasted, and in between bites, the Council questioned Evelyn and Steven about their goals. From the line of their questioning, they seemed to be reasonably pleased that Evelyn (and Steven by extension) was aiming high, to be an influential power in the city. Because at least half the Council couldn’t enter the city, either from a desire to not let their presence be known to Maaril, or his own refusal to allow them entrance, they spoke several times of possibly getting the dragonstaff into someone else’s hands someday. Dragons have patience, but the Violettes had both dragon blood and the drive and ambition that came from a shorter lifespan.

(It was during this time the Violettes learned a few interesting stray facts. Jukuminno was a red dragon, but he had a crimson drake companion… the same crimson drake that had blown up Melvin Mask’s shop and had stung Steven. Jukuminno said, “When Vexen decided to take a side job, I was the one that ended up getting kicked out with him.” He had the crimson drake, Vexen, in a small cage, and kicked it periodically. He was very put out with Vexen. He was very put out by everything and everyone, though that seemed to be par for the course. None of the other dragons seemed terribly sympathetic towards the drake either.

Wu Yen’s name sounded quite familiar, because it was she who was the paper golem maker! She brought out two of her samurai-folded paper golems for their amusement, showing the sharpness of their seemingly insubstantial blades, and spent some time talking with Evelyn about the fashions of her home. She carried a companion with her, a paper drake, what looked like nothing so much as a folded paper dragon. But he was a living creature, not a construct. Princess (Evelyn’s cat familiar) was fascinated by him, to the point where Wu Yen had him fold up and tucked him in a fold of her kimono to stave off trouble. (Literally fold up; it’s one of their tricks.) She called him “Rex” at one point, but for dragons that’s the equivalent of “baby,” and likely not his real name.)

Eventually the Council got down to the meat of the meeting. The Dragon Mage could be a tricky and sometimes arbitrary person, and often demanded shares of a dragon’s hoard to admit him or her into the city. It was likely, Karaxmegathron told the Violettes, that part of their current relative poverty was because their parents likely paid Maaril something to reside in Waterdeep. That was not family history as the Violettes had learned it, but it was an interesting theory. The Council wanted their kind to be able to have a somewhat freer approach in the city, being able to interact with people without having to go through Maaril.

In short, they wanted some of their own inside the city, but without the magical monitoring upon them that any dragonstaff-touched dragon would have. They hoped that a full-blooded dragon, born within the Dragonward, might be able to bypass the ward. They’d been studying it and this was a good, solid theory. They weren’t looking for wholesale revolution of the city, just to not have every action seen by a man they did not trust.
It seemed the Council had come into possession of a dragon egg (the same dragon egg, as a matter of fact, that they saw rolling around the floor, on fire, in the Golden Mermaid tavern the night they tried to get answers out of Melvin Mask). They had a place just inside the ward where it could be born, but there were a few inhabitants that needed to be evicted, either by persuasion or by force. As a test of resourcefulness, the Council would give the job to the Violettes. Intrigued, they accepted.

There was a door just at the edge of the Dragonward, and through that door was a portal to somewhere else in Waterdeep. Stepping through, the Violettes found themselves in a corridor, with three rooms at the end of it. One was sealed with an amber-colored resin. One was steel, with a huge elaborate lock in the shape of a demon’s mouth that needed a huge key. The third was strung with beads and admitted not a sound. Magic abounded on the amber door, and through the beaded curtain, though no one heard anything.

Steven decided to open the amber door first, and after putting his back into it, finally broke the seal. Inside was a throne of carved wood, and upon it was a golden women, sprawled slightly as if she’d been tossed there. She wore an antique golden dress, carried a huge key about her neck, and a slim glowing crown upon her head. Her hair, eyes, even her teeth were golden, and her flesh glowed with the same hue. Flanking her, kneeling, were two bronze-skinned men in bronze leather armor, strangely cut so the collar hid their mouths, both carrying two long daggers.
Slowly the woman came away, and blinked at them in some fear.

“Are the Kregar coming? Are we safe?”

A thorough flogging of Evelyn’s memories later, and questioning the golden woman (who thought it was the Year of the Flower Unfolding), she realized who this might be. There was a tiny principality near Waterdeep known as the Golden Kingdom, some five hundred years ago. They had been attacked by a rival kingdom, the fierce Kregars, and destroyed. Their last ruler, the Golden Queen, had vanished before she could be killed. It was said the people of the Golden Kingdom infused their very flesh with substances from other planes, though it hadn’t availed them against the Kregar.

The Queen was greatly saddened when she realized her court wizard, Sarras, had managed to save her, but no more than that. She asked if the Violettes would see what had become of him, because he had had much dangerous magic, and if any of it escaped… She would abide here for the nonce, that she not lose her life after he’d done so much to save it, but offered the help of Challa, one of her bodyguards, in case of trouble. She also gave the Violettes the key to Sarras’ laboratory (the one with the iron door).

Going across the way, and using the huge key, the iron door swung open to reveal a wizard’s workroom, exploded so fiercely that almost nothing had survived. A skeleton, little more than blackened bones, was in the middle of the destruction. Steven knelt down to give the old wizard a blessing of Mystra, when the bones moved. They reached out very slowly as a raspy voice echoed through the skull, “Will you protect her?”

“I will,” Steven said. And with that, he offered his hand to the skeleton. Its bony fingers circled his wrist, and he felt a flash of heat. His scales there were now golden where the fingers had touched, and he immediately knew exactly where the Golden Queen was, and what she was feeling. With a sigh, the bones crumbled to powder.

Muttering to himself about how in the world did he get into these situations, Steven helped Evelyn search the room, and they turned up three scrolls with golden writing, with strange magical spells upon them. They went back to the Golden Queen and told her of Sarras’ fate, that he’d taken it upon himself to make sure no harmful magic survived him. She asked the Violettes to make certain the throne room had been either destroyed or neutralized, because there had been things there too that might cause this new world trouble.

The throne room was beyond the beads, and in looking through them, they saw something odd. Or rather heard something. Or rather, didn’t hear something. Even though the beads did not register as magic, they were apparently keeping all sound out, because they caught a glimpse of two arguing drow, and a dangerous-looking snail with many mace-like heads, a huge shimmering shell, all the size of a horse, but not a sound could be heard. Steven, Evelyn, and Challa pushed into the room, and now sound became clear. The drow argued in a language none of them spoke, turned to see their intruders, and fired upon them.

The battle was joined, Steven charging at once to eviscerate one drow, while the flail snail charged (slowly, it’s a snail) Challa and Evelyn. Evelyn used Margul (the dreaded freeze) to hold one drow while Steven attacked, while Challa went after the flail snail. He nearly had his skull caved in after he got but a single hit, and the flail snail bashed him in retaliation. Evelyn fled ahead of the slow charge and kept pausing to fire off more spells of Margul, but quickly learned the terrible power of the beautiful shell on the flail snail’s back. Three times her spell either fizzled out or nearly rebounded upon her. Steven finished off the second drow, ran to heal Challa enough that he could rise, and both chased after the flail snail as it tried to corner Evelyn.
Nearly out of spells, Evelyn downed a potion of true strike and stabbed it with her silver dagger, even as Steven and Challa flanked it. Challa hurt it a little, then took another blow that laid him out again, and it was up to Steven to finish off the flail snail, stabbing it deeply. The body of the nail dissolved into slime, leaving the magnificent shell. The throne room itself was empty, its contents long-since destroyed, with only a small natural cave entrance (where the drow and flail snail had come from) its only other egress.

Evelyn used a potion of healing to bring Challa out of unconsciousness, and then they returned to guide the Golden Queen to safety. She carried a small chest with her, and emerged from the Portal in the Council of Wyrms with as much dignity as royalty five hundred years out of her time could. There was a bit of a debate as to where she could go, as Steven wanted to bring her to the temple of Mystra, but did not want to tell the Magister exactly where he’d found her, as that would reveal the Council. The Golden Queen said Steve could say he found her in the streets (once she went and got herself lost there) so it wouldn’t be a lie.

While this was going on, Evelyn had realized how valuable that flail snail shell was (thousands), and wanted to use that to invest in silk from Wu Yen’s homeland. Her brother would also use his share, so they could share in the profits. Having silk brought to Waterdeep had the potential to make them all at least well-off, if not wealthy, if they managed things right. Thusly agreed, Wu Yen said she’d send them a message soon.

With all plots in place, eventually the Violettes and the Golden Queen arrived at the temple of Mystra to join in their Feast of the Moon, much to their amazement… and the wonder of the Magister in what star had Steven been born under for crazy things like this to keep happening to him…

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Session 14

When we last left our intrepid heroes, the Order of the Vine (Charissa, Garden, William, and Shandri) had begun to be reestablished. In the course of that, had found Sir Firemane, the wemic paladin, and had decided to help him find his missing charges. Meanwhile, the Violettes had met some dragons and awakened an ancient queen.

Being as the finding the Temple of the Darkening Dawn, where Sir Firemane’s people might be, could involve both intrigue and violence, Shandri sent verbal messages via Urchin Postal Service to both Evelyn and Steven, asking for their help. Knowing her audience, the urchin that went to Evelyn at her home said, “The others say there’s a rich nobleman who needs rescued.” Evelyn was immediately interested, and said she’d come. Steve’s messenger came to him at the Temple of Mystra, and said, “The people Sir Firemane was looking for might be trapped and needing rescue.”

With gold fever, desire for noble favor, fellow paladin feeling, and the obligation to see no creature in chains, the Violettes joined the group at the Empty Grave (naturally), so everyone could be brought up to speed. During the discussion, whereupon it was revealed that the temple was said to be below the Warrens, the halfling/gnome district under Dock Ward, Garden said he’d go scout ahead. For the rest of the group, they pooled their knowledge to figure out even if the Warrens were usually not sized for big folk, there were several “tall paths” for large cargo and taller visitors. Also, the name of the temple, the Darkening Dawn, sounded like some variation of Lathander’s faith, but was probably a cult. The Dawnlord would never condone a temple built below ground.

Garden descended into the Warren, and found, entirely by coincidence, someone he knew. It was Beak (Calla Break Snorpthangle the 32nd and a half), a high-ranking member of the Origami clan in town for business. Beak said she hadn’t heard anything about the Temple of the Darkening Dawn herself, but she could send Garden to someone who lived below the Warrens, in a place where the rock walls came together close, known as the Blade. She said his name was Rich, an assumed name, but no one could pronounce his real one. He was an octopus (truly), an octopus sorcerer as a matter of fact. He’d been awakened by a druid’s spell some time ago, and was shunned by those who lived in the harbor. As he was very small and prone to being eaten by sharks, Rich now lived in the Blade, inside his water elemental familiar.

Thoroughly amused, Garden went to talk to this oddity. Rich could not speak any language Garden could understand, so instead invoked a spell of light in the dim Blade and wrote his answers on the wall in his own ink. The Temple of the Darkening Dawn had a holy symbol much like that of Lathander, except in grayscale. But the most interesting thing about the Temple was that supposedly the god was manifest there, which was why it had been gathering more support recently.

A bit perturbed, Garden returned to the group and relayed this information as they prepared to travel below the Blade. Charissa felt right at home traversing the Warrens, but occasionally the others had their heads introduced to skywalks, balconies, or were occasionally literally clotheslined. Eventually they neared the Blade, but as the area below was not well lit, if at all, so they paused to purchase illumination at Lifty’s Nifty Lights (run by a gnome, of course). She was able to dig out a nearly-dead ioun stone with a light spell on it for Charissa, an everburning torch for the party, and a couple of lanterns. The group came up a little short on cash, so Steven offered up a corsage made of dried bats (he’d taken it from a drow he’d killed, along with the stylish blue-sheened boots he was currently sporting). Lifty was thrilled at such a unique find, and took it, cooing over it a little unsettlingly.

Thusly illuminated, the party ventured downward, eventually finding some of the grayscale holy symbols painted on the walls. They used them as guides as they followed the twists and turns to a set of guarded double doors. After fumbling a bit to the guards’ questions, the group managed to say they wished for a new beginning, and were admitted. The underground temple was large and old, older than this new church. Several worshippers, robed in gray, sat the in pews.

But what caught the group’s attention was the purple ball of flame, big as two people put together, hovering above the altar. The high priest knelt before the altar, several acolytes off to one side. As the group watched, several worshippers petitioned the god. One was being punished for “failing the faith,” and writhed in pain as a beam of gray energy emanated from the god and struck him. The priest praised the man’s acceptance that he was willing to endure punishment and begin anew. Another sacrificed a coffer (presumably full of valuables) and named a name of someone who had wronged him. The god spoke in a booming voice, saying to bring this unbeliever to him that he might see the faithful’s new god, as a reward for diligence and piety.

This struck most of the party as at least sketchy, if not some elaborate con, though William could see the “god” was very magical indeed. Looking about, the group spotted the three Shaaran men they’d been looking for. Garden decided to pretend one of them was his uncle, and threw himself at them with a cry of welcome. This disrupted the service, and both the high priest and the god questioned the party, asking how dare they interrupt their service with their rudeness. The god then invoked a spell upon Garden (he was playing the whining nephew to the hilt) and Garden suddenly realized that the priest was entirely worthy of respect and he was being unconscionably rude in church. (William realized he’d been charmed.)

But as the priest was staring daggers at them (and the guards and most of the rest of the worshippers) the group decided it would be a great time to leave. Well, Evelyn did, and nearly dragged the rest of the party out by the hair. Once out of the temple and the immediate range of any listeners, the group told them Sir Firemane had sent them, and asked them what they’d been doing since they’d been “missing.”

The three men felt terrible that they’d caused their protector so much distress, but they’d thought he’d been killed. You see, in their travels, they’d once offended some priests of Talona (the goddess of disease and poison) by healing and succoring plague victims. That had been some distance from Waterdeep, but the church had cursed them, and servants the church had been after them. When Oram and Sir Firemane had been attacked and fallen to the red coral curse (truly, the three remaining men thought they had died), the remaining Shaarans hoped to find a way to lift the curse and pursuit from them with their knowledge of the gods. Without money to pay for a miracle, and wary of involving the larger churches in this feud (sparking a holy war, very bad idea) they sought another way to lift the curse.

This new and manifest god had some promise, though he was a harsh and unbending deity. But the news that Sir Firemane, at least, was alive, was cause for much rejoicing. Quickly retreating from the Warrens, the Shaarans were happily reunited. Sir Firemane said he was profoundly grateful, and as long as he was in the city, the group could call upon him if any evil needed to be vanquished.

Wanting to do something about the Darkening Dawn, Steven and the group called upon the temple of Lathander. After speaking with some of the priests there, they said that there were some apocryphal texts of the church that spoke of Lathander’s brother, the god of dark dawns, the dawns of stormy or rainy days. But although the rituals of the group described were not unheard of for some very strict religions, the Lathanders agreed to look into the manner…

 

[Azkorra]

It has been quite a while since your last post - great to see back on the boards! I like that your campaign rather tends to focus on investigation than on combat. Also, you have already introduced a large number of interesting NPCs the players can socially interact with, which really keeps the campaign from getting one-dimensional and provides for nice reading. Keep up with it!

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Session 15

Whew! Ok, sorry for the long hiatus guys - the husband and I were on vacation for a while. Onward!

When we last left our intrepid heroes, they had just talked to the Temple of Lathander (god of dawn, athletics, and youth) about the Temple of the Darkening Dawn, ruled by (so they thought) a corrupt priest or con man along with… some kind of illusion? Magic item? Guy in a glowing rubber suit? At any rate, with some kind of talking fireball. The temple seemed to be cruel and collecting money under false or at least very shady pretenses. The priest they spoke to said he would send three clerics to see if this “god” was a true manifestation of divinity or if this was simple a nest of self-deluded fools. They would leave in the dawn, naturally.

The group got a spot of rest (Evelyn just stayed up all night, because she was used to staying up until the most fashionable of hours) and showed up at the entrance to the Warrens the next morning to escort the three priests, Brothers Darvin, Dorn, and Randal. Garden showed up dressed to the nines in his purple Order of the Vine suit and sash, looking as far from the whiney “nephew” he had portrayed the previous day. He got ahead of the group to do a touch of scouting.

Once in the Blade, he earned the distinctive wet sounds of Rich, the octopus sorcerer who resided inside his water elemental familiar. Turning towards them and asking what they’d heard, Rich wrote that there had been a bit of a hullaballoo the night before in the general area of the Darkening Dawn. He also asked for a drink, as the hullaballoo had been rather distressing. Garden pulled out a flask of wine and poured it into the water elemental, who turned purple.

“Exxxxxxxxcellent,” Rich wrote, a wee bit unsteady, and sloshed off, out of the way of impending trouble. Garden luckily found no further trouble, and the group caught up with him near the Temple.

As a point, as Lathander is a patron of athletes, all three of the priests were in quite good shape. And good-looking. Evelyn immediately started chatting up the loveliest of the three, because she likes pretty things, while Steven glared.

The door to the Temple was barred from the outside, and Evelyn and William could detect a bit of magic through the cracks. The priests removed the bar and flung the doors open. The Temple was deserted, aside from a glowing ball of blue flame hovering above the altar. (Though the group had seen a ball of purple flame there during the service yesterday.) The group advanced warily, as the thing was quite magical, when suddenly it broke apart in a dozen wiggling lines of light!

The things rushed the party, some of them emanating a magical fear that Steve’s stalwart courage and refusal to give in to being controlled helped ameliorate. The priests and the party battled them fiercely, the priests laying about with their maces to devastating effect, Charissa and Garden shooting them, William trying to dissolve them with magical acid darts, and Shandri blessing the group. At one point Evelyn managed to used Margul, the dreaded freeze, the paralyze one of the wiggling things, turning it into a floating bar, which Garden skewered neatly.

Evelyn was then rendered asleep by the creatures’ magic, and one of them wrapped itself around her throat and tried to strangle her. Princess tried to claw it away from her mistress’ throat, and Steve decided to take action at the same time. He hurled the line-creature away, following it with the closest possible weapon. Princess. Creature and cat thudded into the wall in that order, cat crushing the creature into motes.

That was the last of them, luckily. Everyone then woken up and dignity more or less restored, they went to inspect the area. The group found a hidden door into the vestry that held several gray robes (such as the congregants had worn), and had a smooth hole in the ceiling, the diameter of the purple ball of fire.

Looking around carefully at more his eyeline, Garden spotted some dust in mid-air, and discovered there was an invisible chest in the corner! He picked the lock by feel, but nearly had his finger chopped off by a spring blade trap. He disarmed that carefully (now that he knew it was there) and opened it up. It was, to be noted, pink inside from where Evelyn had tried to use prestidigitation to color it pink in an attempt to make it show up. It hadn’t worked. Inside was a goodly bit of gold, gems, a few weapons, and a couple other valuables. These were some of the Temple’s ill-gotten gains, apparently, left behind when someone must have forgotten about the invisible chest.

They divided it amongst all present, including the priests, who would tithe their share, as they continued their investigation. Intrigued by the hole in the ceiling and where it might go, William and Charissa came up with a plan. William cast light on one of Charissa's bullets, which she then fired up into the hole. It hit the ceiling quite a distance above, but there was enough of a glimpse to show that the tunnel made a turn. Armed with this information, Randal summoned a celestial hawk, who flew up the shaft and then came to report (in Celestial, that Randal translated) that the tunnel terminated in a corner of the Blade.

Looking about some more, Garden found a second secret door, leading to a spherical room. There were very fresh carvings about the Darkening Dawn around the middle of the room, and a sickly-sweet crust on the floor. William made wall rubbings (with some help from a Tenser’s floating disk spell and a bit of mage hand), and the party retreated outward and onward…

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Session 16

As my father, who plays Garden, was out of town, Garden got to have the DM mess with his character this session...

--

When we last left our intrepid heroes, they had just finished cleaning out the Temple of the Darkening Dawn and wanted to figure out how to close and lock the door. Or possibly blow the whole thing up. Deciding the latter was excessive and they didn’t have much expertise in the former, the group was going to see if Garden could recommend a good lock. Except Garden had disappeared. Being as this was not an entirely unusual turn of events, the group just blocked off the temple with the bar that had been there before for now, intending to return later with a better means of securing the door. They went to leave, confident Garden would turn up turn up at his shop, or possibly was fleecing someone in the Warrens on the way out.

But when the group got to the Blade, several heard a strange gurgling sound, like someone gargling while yodeling through butterscotch pudding. Recognizing the dulcet tones of the Aquan tongue anywhere, William and Shandri could understand the voice was saying, “Tall lady! Tall lady in the purple sash!” in a rather slurred manner.

Translating, Charissa and the others came to a halt. Into the circle of the light came sloshing a gnome-sized wet column of grape jelly that gave off a distinctive smell of wine. Charissa decided it was a wine elemental, and no one in the party, not the Lathander priests, nor anyone else, had a differing theory. So, sobering it up wasn’t possible, as a tap from Grapes of Wrath’s sober side might kill it!

It went on to say it knew Garden, as he wore the same sash Charissa did (the Order of the Vine). Garden had talked to him about the ruckus in the Temple the previous night and had given him a drink to settle his nerves. He said his name was… well, there was no good translation in Aquan that William could effect on dry land, and as everyone was fresh out of butterscotch pudding to yodel through while gargling, the creature said they could call him Rich. And his water elemental familiar was called Oodoogoobloop.

Charissa asked, and Rich accepted the offer that he needed to be sober right now, and that being sober would not, in fact, kill him, and tapped him with the sober end of her hammer. The purple cleared, and revealed a very small golden octopus inside a water elemental familiar.

(At several times in the ensuing conversation, Evelyn had looked at Rich in a slightly covetous, hungry way. You see, with new ships in town from Kara Tur, Evelyn had been at a few sushi parties recently, including ones were where small live octopi were eaten. Did they taste good? You do realize that it’s fashionable to eat octopus right now? That’s In, this season.)

A bit more coherent now, Rich explained he’d seen Garden be captured and dragged off by little dark figures who were dressed in rags and brought shadow with them. The group recognized this description with a sinking feeling – dark creepers, those murderous little thugs they’d fought on Gutter Street a couple months back.

Rich said they’d gone out the back of the Blade, and upon showing them the area, Steven and Evelyn saw something they’d both seen once before: crackling purple energy across a doorway. It was a portal. William recognized them too from descriptions he’d made notes on in class, and this one was active. Rich was miffed, as he was down here to study them (amongst other things) and hadn’t known the key phrases or actions to activate it himself. Realizing the portal might not stay active for much longer, Brothers Randal and Dorn said they’d return to the Temple to report the kidnapping while Darvin stayed with them as they attempted to mount a rescue. With that, the group strode through, weapons at the ready (and Rich and Oodoogoobloop on William’s floating disk, along with the invisible chest).

The corridor on the other side was broad but unlit, and getting back through the portal? No guarantees. Nervous but determined, the group carried on. After a while, they spied a cunningly dyed piece of canvas stretching across the floor, a pit trap for the unwitting. Thinking themselves dreadfully clever, Steven whisked it aside – and found himself attacked!

A pair of hideous abominations were there, with thick, ten-foot-long snake bodies, terrible clacking beaks like those of a giant squid, surrounded by four short tentacles that writhed hungrily. Had the group been more conversant about the denizens of the Underdark, they might have recognized the monstrosities as gricks. But alas they did not, so could only try to kill the monsters that attacked them.

Steven and Charissa were lashed and bitten, and in fighting back, found that the flesh of the creatures was resistant to ordinary weapons. Charissa switched from gun to magic hammer, and William added magic to Steven’s sword. He slew one with a single stroke, decapitating it and making its misformed excuse for a head land in Evelyn’s arms.

Then the corridor beyond went unnaturally dark and knives started being flung. Both Darvin and Rich summoned creatures to attack the new threat of dark creepers, Darvin calling a lantern archon, and Rich a water elemental. Both of these creatures could see in the dark, and soon had dispatched one dark creeper each. When dark creepers die, they explode into light, and the others waited until these flashes occurred to target their spells and weapons at the creepers. As Steven finished off the other grick, William was able to send four of the dark creepers to sleep, those that hadn’t already died or fled.

At last, all enemies were dead or unconscious. The group tied and gagged the four sleeping ones, and William pulled out his zone of truth chalice he’d gotten from the Knights of the Vine. Charissa bopped all the creepers with the drunken end of the Grapes of Wrath, and William took a sip from the chalice (as it was a zone effect). When asked questions, one belligerent creeper was surly and claimed ignorance, but the group soon realized he was resisting the magic. Another of his clan hadn’t been so lucky. Drunk, bespelled, and still sleepy, he answered all of their questions with stunned apathy.

Garden was an enemy of their clan, and he’d been kidnapped and taken to the dark stalker, the leader of their clan. Who had a pair of pet darkmantles. The group extracted the way to activate the portal, the route into the clan stronghold, the traps, the number of people, and when they were done, asking Darvin if he had anything else to ask. Darvin blinked, borrowed William’s notepad, and asked more exacting questions about the numbers of dark creepers all over the city and their plans. Smart guy!

The group gagged them all again and put them in the grick pit, covering it back up again and warning them that since they’d just betrayed their clan, making noise would be bad.

Garden awaited their rescue. Onward!