Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 353
In Which Something Finally Goes Right For a Change
Before the Company takes their leave, Moirel has a warning, and a final favor to ask.
“There are two other Cauldrons,” she tells them. “They create dangerous monsters in the hands of the Black Circle. The Ghost Cauldron was destroyed centuries ago by the Silver Shell, but the third, the Shadow Cauldron, is capable of…”
“Already taken care of,” says Aravis, grinning.
“Oh. Good.”
“Yeah,” says Dranko. “So, what’s the favor?”
“I’m sure that I’m wanted by the King for my various past crimes,” she says. “I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t mention to anyone that I’m here, at least for a while.”
“We won’t,” Aravis assures her. “When we return from our mission beneath the earth, we will intercede with King Crunard, and get you a pardon.”
“I would go with you,” she says, “but with my magic burned away, I am no longer capable of heroics.”
“Now that the castle isn’t protected by your time powers,” says Morningstar, “someone might come across you by chance.”
“I have an idea,” says Dranko. “I’ll get in touch with Lucas and we’ll send the Overmen to guard her.”
/*/
It’s only mid-morning, so they teleport home, intending to spend the remainder of the day relaxing and planning. The first thing they do is cast identify on the Watcher’s Kiss, and to their surprise the spell is not suppressed or otherwise prevented from functioning. The golden blade has a number of extremely powerful properties:
- It’s a +6 dagger
- It does an additional 10d6 damage per hit against Divine targets.
Dranko points at Aravis. “Don’t shave with it.”
- When one strikes and does damage with the weapon, it does equal damage to all same-aligned creatures within 30’.
- Once per round, as a free action, you can automatically end a grapple, deal 6d6 damage to the grappler, and fling them 30’.
- If the wielder is damaged by an energy type, they are thereafter immune to that energy type until the end of the encounter.
- The wielders is constantly flying and has evasion.
That all sounds great, but there’s one catch:
- At the end of any encounter in which someone uses any of the Watcher’s Kiss’s abilities, or deals damage with it, that person takes 3d6 damage to every ability score. That damage which cannot be restored until the victim has had a full night’s rest.
Having discerned all of that, they give the Watcher’s Kiss to Flicker, with strong admonishments that he should only use it in dire emergencies.
Once Flicker has calmed down, Eddings brings the party a late-morning meal while they discuss what to do next. The endgame is in sight now; none of them doubt that they should be wrapping up loose ends, and making preparations to pursue Seven Dark Words, Meledien and Tarsos into the Underdark, to prevent whatever Adversary-rescuing plans the Evil Trio has going.
Dranko pulls out the written list they keep of their ongoing quests and entanglements.
“Wipe out the bugbears,” he reads, nodding to Aravis.
“It seems unlikely,” the wizard admits. “I’d like to avenge my parents, but we have more important things to worry about now.”
Other items that seem like they’ll fall by the wayside include killing Parthol Runecarver and wiping out the Council of Nine. “I may hate them,” says Aravis, referring to the assemblage of intelligent rats, “but Quarrol created them, and it’s not for me to destroy them.”
Looking over Dranko’s shoulder, Ernie reads “Kick Farazil’s butt.”
“He’s working for us now,” says Kibi.
“Can’t we kick his ass once he’s done?” asks Flicker.
“I have to wonder,” says Dranko. “What benefit is he really after, asking for citizenship. What’s in the fine print?”
Some other things can now be crossed off the to-do list as substantially completed, mainly dealing with the Sharshun and Darkeye, and destroying the remaining Black Circle cauldrons. They decide that the short list of things still on their collective plate includes assisting the relocation of the Gurundian dwarves, rescuing Tor from the Delfirians, and stopping the red-armored Octesian who’s now murdering random citizens in their sleep.
Dranko pays a visit to Lucas at the underground HQ of the Undermen, explaining as much as he can, and stressing that he’ll soon be going somewhere from where he’s not supposed to be able to return. But before Lucas can even shake his head in annoyance and resignation, the two hear a commotion from somewhere above. One of Lucas’s minions pokes his head into the office.
“Sorry to disturb you, but you really should get up to the street. Something’s happening, down at the docks.”
Lucas and Dranko exchange glances, and Dranko hustles up through the warrens of the Manse to the surface. Once on the streets of Tal Hae, a foul smell greets his nostrils. The city has a faint tang of fish at all times, but now there’s a horrid rotting smell wafting through the salt air – and he’s still a good quarter mile from the harbor. As he dashes through the streets, mind-link chatter tells him that the others have also caught wind (so to speak) of something unusual occurring, and they wind up meeting atop a small hill that overlooks the harbor.
There’s a wall of people down at the harbor’s edge, jostling for a view, but also wrapping their faces against the powerful ambient stench. From their high vantage point, the Company can easily see what’s causing it. Dead fish are washing into the harbor from out in the ocean, in such vast quantities that they have already formed a thick, unbroken carpet of aquatic corpses. For as far out towards the ocean as they can see, the surface is a thick mass of dead sea creatures, now baking in the August heat. A few brave souls have moved to the edge of the water with nets.
“What happened?” asks Flicker.
“Same reason all the turtles died,” says Dranko. “Something bad.”
A few of them fly down for a better look, and on closer inspection see that the fish are mostly of an unusual sort, and not the mackerel, cod and silverscales that composes the bulk of the fishing fleet’s usual catch. Many of the bodies are more like eels than fish, or have oddly shaped bodies, strange dangling appendages, or unusually large, toothy mouths.
“Deep sea fish,” says Aravis with sudden understanding. He flies higher, and sees that the ocean beyond the bay is topped with a mass of dead sea creatures for as far out as he can see. There must be millions of them.
Dranko wrinkles his nose. “I think the only thing we can about this, is to get going after Meledien and company, before it gets worse.”
It appears that the clock is ticking a little faster than they thought.
/*/
As the Company returns to the Greenhouse, Kibi receives a sending:
This is Teggin, leader of the dwarven scouts. We’ve had some unexpected good developments in the last two days. Hope you’ve been okay. Come visit!
Kibi replies: Okay. I’ll be there soon.
Dranko has an odd request on the way back. “Flicker, I need to borrow the Watcher’s Kiss for a few minutes.”
“Oh?” Flicker is immediately suspicious. “Why?”
“I want to show it to someone?”
“Who?”
“Berthel. My old landlady.”
“Why in the Gods’ names would you want to do that?” asks Flicker.
“Flicker, just indulge me.”
/*/
Berthel has fixed up the old tenement since his last visit, and in fact has purchased the entire building with the money Dranko had left her. Dranko hears the sound of children laughing from the second-floor dwelling, and smiles.
“This is nice!” he says, sitting back in a comfortable chair.
“Let me show you the best part!” Berthel answers jovially. She opens a closet door to reveal a wine rack, burdened with a dozen bottles of cheap wine. She pulls out one of the bottles, opens it, and pours two glasses. “Saved this one for you,” she says.
“I got you something too,” says Dranko. He produces an expensive bottle of Elvish wine, knowing full well that its subtleties and flavors will be lost on his old landlady.
“Hm,” says Berthel, looking at it doubtfully. “Will I get drunk if I drink it?”
Dranko smiles and nods, and then grows a bit somber. “You may never see me again,” he tells her. “I’m going off to do one of those things that will probably get me killed.”
Berthel chuckles. “You’re on the run from the law, aren’t you,” she accuses.
Dranko doesn’t answer, but says instead, “also, I wanted you to see this.” He pulls the Watcher’s Kiss from its scabbard, and its golden glow immediately captures all light and vitality in Berthel’s apartment. Everything else goes gray.
“What is that?” asks Berthel, awed.
“That’s the dagger that a Goddess used to stab another God in the back. And now you’re one of the only people who’s ever seen it.”
Berthel’s eyes go wide, and then she laughs. “You’re carrying around a sword that one God used to stab another God? Come on, Dranko, pull the other one.”
Dranko sighs, and moves to the window. Berthel takes a long sip of wine.
“Good bye Dranko. Take care of yourself.”
Dranko gives her one last smile, and jumps out.
/*/
After another sending to learn the dwarves’ exact location, the party teleports to Cloud Mountain, one time abode of Azhant the Ancient, and now prospective new home of the oppressed dwarves of Gurund. At once the smell of rotting sea creatures is replaced by the bracing fresh pine smell of mountain air.
A few things are immediately evident. One, a large portion of the collapsed entrance hall has been cleared out and built back up. Two, there are dozens of dwarves busily at work here – many more than Kibi left here a week ago with the mission of simply scouting out the area. Third, there are nearly as many halflings here as dwarves.
As the Company looks around, bewildered, they hear the sound of grinding stone coming from around the corner of the great hall. Behind that sound comes the lovely strains of harp music. The party moves to see the source of these sounds, and discovers two halflings seated on chairs, surrounded by about ten dwarves looking nervously curious. As the halflings strum on small golden harps, it appears that a small army of unseen servants is moving rubble, building columns, mixing mortar and putting up walls. Three of the dwarves are loudly explaining to the halflings about how the building should proceed, and what things should look like. The place is renovating itself to the music of the harps!
The dwarf Teggin approaches, a broad grin parting his beard.
“Kibilhathur!”
“Teggin,” says Kibi. “You’ve been… busy!”
“I’ve hardly done anything, personally,” says Teggin.
“Who are these halflings?” Kibi asks.
“Oh, they’re from Appleseed, a country a few hundred miles to the north. They move quickly, but then, we asked them to as part of the agreement.”
“Oh?”
“Limited mining rights,” says Teggin. “The halflings can always use more mineral resources, and Cloud Mountain is a nearly-endless supply. It’s mostly iron and silver, but it’s high-quality stuff.”
“But how…?”
“It turns out that some of the dwarven resistance in Gurund had contacts in Appleseed,” says Teggin cheerfully. “You know, the resistance that you funded a while back. Those contacts have been working on an agreement for months now, and it finally paid off. The halflings have some wizards who can teleport, and some magic that lets them turn into air and fly incredibly fast. That’s how most of ‘em got here so quickly. And they have these things…” He gestures to the halflings playing the harps. “They’re called Lyres of Building. It would have taken us months to do what these little beauties have managed in a couple of days!”
Kibi can only look astonished at this turn of events.
“And that’s not even the best part!” says Teggin, his grin growing wider. “We’ve got some extra muscle on hand. You ever heard of Galeb Duhr? They’re big living rocks that walk around. There was a whole colony of Galeb Duhr living in this area, mostly staying – ahem – underground, hiding from the dragon all these years. No more dragon, so they came up to see what we’re up to. They agreed to help! They’re incredibly friendly, if a bit weird and hard to understand. Between them and the halflings, the future is looking bright as crystal.”
He waves over one of the halflings. “Hey Sara, these are the people I was telling you about. The ones that killed the dragon and opened Cloud Mountain for business.”
An armored halfling strides over and greets the Company individually by name, though she’s never met them before. Dranko’s is the only name she can’t seem to remember.
“High Priestess Maple Sunblade sent me,” she said. “I’m to brief you on what’s been happening. Please, walk this way.”
Sara leads them to a small side room, in an area that was a jumble of fallen masonry and splintered stone last time the Company was here. It’s been furnished as an office, and they all crowd inside. Teggin joins them.
“We’ve signed a treaty,” Sara says. “We’re going to be giving the dwarves a great deal of relocation assistance, as well as helping restore this place to accommodate the expected influx. Some other details need to be worked out.”
“But what about the Guild of Chains?” asks Kibi.
“Maple sent a military detachment to Gurund, to serve as a protective military force during the relocation. We’re guessing that One Supreme Intellect will not wish to start an international incident over this affair, though it’s possible that there will pressure from the Guild of Chains, leading to… physical altercation. In the worst case, the Jewels of the Plains could send their massed armies against us, if Supreme Intellect and the nobles feel it’s in their economic interest. But we feel that is highly unlikely, as Djaw also has trade agreements with Appleseed that they won’t easily toss aside. So, we’ll see how this goes.
“The Guild may act on its own, of course, and One Supreme Intellect is unpredictable. It’s a highly fluid situation, and we won’t know what to expect until we have enough troops on the ground in Gurund. But things have been extremely quiet along the Anlakis border for a few decades now, and Appleseed boasts a great number of seasoned military professionals who are looking forward to some boots-on-the-ground action.
“Of course, for us, it’s all about the mining rights. Appleseed is farmland rich but mineral poor; we’ve always had to import most of our raw ores. The opposite of Cloud Mountain. There are many synergies at work.”
Kibi’s mouth hangs open in surprise. Sara smiles at him.
“In the meantime,” she says, “we’ve gotten into a new business – slave purchasing. Because there’s nothing that says we can’t free them as soon as we’ve bought them.”
“But can you afford it?” asks Kibi.
“It’s a significant expense,” Sara admits, “but Appleseed has a sizeable treasury. Our bureaucrats say the value of the minerals will offset the outlay. We’ve been hiring human agents so not to arouse suspicion. We’re trying to maintain the same general buying patterns that they’re used to. By the time they figure out what we’re doing, we want it to be too late.
“The thorniest part of the whole operation is the teleportation circles. We have two wizards in the kingdom capable of creating them in a permanent sort of way. The problem is finding places close enough to Gurundian population centers to get enough dwarves out before the Guild of Chains figures out what’s happening. It’s a big country, and our soldiers can’t defend all of it. We’re hoping to do it on the sly for as long as possible. And if we have a large enough force on the border facing Djaw, that may compel the Guild of Chains to write off Gurund. Not that we have much experience with the slave trade, but our bean counters back home think that the non-dwarvish slave market may still be lucrative enough, that the Guild will not wish to overreach and risk all of their profits. And even if they were to defeat us, it might leave them weakened enough to succumb to anti-slavery forces in the Djawish court.”
Kibi takes a deep breath, hardly daring to believe that everything has worked out so well.
“We’re going to be leaving for a while,” he tells Sara. “Probably forever. So, if there’s anything we can do before we go…”
“You can help us set up extra teleportation circles” says Sara. “The more we have, the quicker and smoother the evacuation will go.”
“Things are looking up,” says Teggin, “and we have you to thank for it. We’d hardly be moving in if there was still a dragon living in there. It also turns out that your names have some value up in Appleseed. I guess you guys did a favor for them recently?”
/*/
And so, still giddy with the good news, the Company teleports back to the Greenhouse with one more thing to check off their list.
“It’s about time,” says Kibi, “that something worked out for us, and for the dwarves, without us having to do all the work.”
“It’s a pleasant surprise,” Grey Wolf agrees.
Alas, the Company’s next surprise is going to be much less pleasant…
…to be continued…
Adventurers are usually more impulsive.
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