After realizing that Henk wasn’t going to rejoin them, Khynal and Bjorn retire for the evening. Bjorn is heavily drunk, talking to Voolfy with some very slurred speech as he makes his way up the stairs. Voolfy follows along, scaring a few random patrons who come across the tall druid and his companion as they lurch through the Gilded Gargoyle’s halls. Khynal is still sober, adopting his people’s customary position that those below the age of twenty-one aren’t permitted alcohol, despite Tyria’s more lenient stance on the matter. As he follows the drunken Bjorn up the stairs, he catches site of something on the back of the druids left shoulder. At first Khynal’s inclined to dismiss it as nothing, but he catches site of it once more as Bjorn falls against the doorway of his room. It’s a small birthmark, perhaps shaped like nothing but perhaps the shape of a dragon, that appears to have been burned into the wild-elf’s flesh. Even as he realizes what he’s seen, Khynal feels a strange tingling from his neck. He raises a hand to rub at the tingle, and then realizes it comes from his own dragon-like birthmark surrounded by burnt flesh.
By the next morning, Bjorn is well in the grip of a shocking hangover. He spends a few minutes dunking his head in a bucket of cold water, moaning outrageously to a very amused wolf that’s curled up on the foot of his bed. In the next room, Khynal is slowly going through his morning ritual – meditating, then slowly polishing his two pistols. The tingling in his birthmark has stopped, and there appears to be no reaction when he meets with Bjorn over breakfast. Breathing a sign of relief, the young Psion eats a small breakfast and makes plans with his temporary companion.
Bjorn takes little initiative in his planning, other than pointing out that he’d like to spend some time asking around the city after his brother. Khynal nodded briefly, saying nothing. He considered for a moment telling Bjorn his brother's fate, but remembered the strange birthmark, the tingling and the Wild-elves mission. The voice of Bahamut, the Dragon-king, echoed through his head, pointing out that informing Bjorn of his loss was the right thing to do. At the same time Tiamat, the dragon queen, whispered, “If you tell him, he’ll leave. You’ll never find out what secret those markings hold. You’ll never know what it means.” Khynal held his tongue.
(Note: It was about this point that Bjorn’s player looked up from his character sheet and asked ‘Did anyone tell Bjorn Sven was dead?’ Henk had blatantly lied about it before he left, and Khynal rolled a die to decide which aspect of his personality he’d listen to on the matter. Tiamat won, and the only two people who knew anything about Sven’s death weren’t saying a word.)
A plan for the day was quickly established. They would head to the Dungeoneers guild to pay their membership, gaining access to the depths and the untold riches that awaited them. Then they’d wander through a few of the taverns in the district, asking about Bjorn’s lost brother. Finally, they needed to find someone they could sell the gemstones they recovered from the gauntlet too, as well as someone who could decipher the magic that was wrapped around the enchanted sword Khynal carried.
They set out across the city, searching for the Guildhouse. It took them mere moments to get lost, confused by the winding streets and throngs of people that neither were used too. Refusing to ask for directions, the kept moving, taking twists and turns that led them deeper and deeper into the demon-mouth district.
After about an hour of wandering the streets, Khynal felt the faint tingling in his birthmark once more. Knowing that all wild-elves had some natural talent with minor magic, Khynal jerked his head around to see if Bjorn was doing anything that caused the effect. The Wild-elf looked back, his head confused and an arm snaking over his shoulder to scratch at something. Khynal shook his head, turned and looked about the street. It took him a few moments, but he eventually saw a young woman walking down the alley, her head held high and gleaming with a slight luminescence. As attention grabbing as the slight glow was, Khynal’s eyes focused on the woman’s forehead, where a birthmark in the shape of a rising sun was clearly visible despite the headband the woman wore.
Khynal nudged Bjorn and pointed. Bjorn looked, his eyes going suddenly wide as he spotted the woman. He lurched forward, readying his long spear as he did so and whistling for Voolfy to follow him. Khynal drew a gun, wondering what danger the Druid had seen in the young woman, when he spotted the group of men that were tailing behind her. There were five of them, each carrying a flail and wearing dirty brown robes the color of mud. Their eyes were focused on the oblivious woman, and one of them was obviously preparing to attack. Khynal shouted a warning even as the spear wielding Bjorn bore down on the lady. In a smooth motion she turned, dropping into a combat stance with a kama in her hand. The brown-robed assailants paused, taken aback by the sudden appearance of three prepared combatants and a wolf. As four of the brown-robes moved in to attack, the last one threw a small stone into the mud of the city street, screaming “Arise, and bring us the branded one…” Even as the first blows of combat were traded, a mudlike elemental grew from the cast stone and lurched towards the party.
The fight was short. Three of the attackers were slain in the space of a few seconds, and of those who fled one was brought down by Voolfy. The elemental provided the greatest challenge, shrugging off most of the damage caused by Sven’s spear, the woman’s blade and Khynal’s telekinetic blasts. They eventually fought the creature to a standstill, taking some damage but holding it off until the magic that bound it in the world wore off and it melted into a pile of mud once more.
A quick search of the bodies told them little. Their attackers wore no armor, carried no arms beyond their flails, and showed little skill in the arts of combat. The only clue the bodies held were the pendants they wore, a clay-like circle that surrounded a black triangle, and the likeness of a blue-marble pillar splitting the triangle in two.
Fleeing the scene before the guard arrived, Khynal and Bjorn introduced themselves to the woman they aided. She explained that her name was Meryn, and that she was on a mission to explore the depths for her order. She had no idea about the mysterious pendants, why the brown-robes had attacked her, or what they had meant when the screamed of the branded one. Still feeling the mysterious itch when he looked at the woman’s rising sun birthmark, Khynal explained where they were heading and invited Meryn to come along.
After taking a few more wrong turns, the trio agreed they needed someone with better local knowledge. Calling for a tout, they were approached by a weasel-thin boy of thirteen, dressed in dirty rags and carrying a short-knife at his waist. He introduces himself as pippin, his accent a thick Tyrian cockney drawl. He keeps up a stream of comments as he leads them to the guild, telling them that he dreams of becoming a warrior and plundering the depths himself one day. When they reach the mammoth Dungeoneers guild – a four-story, keep like structure on the sea-cliffs that held Eaglespires skydocks, they spent a few moments staring at the great structure in awe. Meryn paid their tout with a gold coin; easily ten times what the job had been worth. Pippin’s eyes gleamed as he looked at the coin, and he promised he’d wait outside and guide them for the rest of the day.
The trio walks into the clean, bright entry-hall of the Guild. They’re greeted by a tall, well-dressed bald man who introduces himself as Rory Brand – Major domo of the Guild. He explains a little of the Guilds history and its role in the city, pointing out the benefits of joining, as well as the cost. Although only Meryn has the fees for membership, given to her by her order before she set out, Bjorn and Khynal both have gemstones they believe to be worth a few gold. Rory recommends a dwarven jeweler who maintains a small just beyond the demon-mouth square. They meet with the dwarf, a jovial stone dwarf from the Sabbin Empire named Ufrud Mulhari, and sell their accumulated loot. Although they get the feeling the dwarf is ripping them off, the gold they gather is enough to pay for their membership, a few potions of healing, and to requisition an information search in the Guild’s expansive library.
After paying for a search on the symbol carried by the men who attacked Meryn, the party asks some quick questions about other places in the city they could go for information. Rory recommends they try Eran Wordwander, a sage and hedge-wizard who sells potions and identifies items for adventurers. Eran turns out to be a doddering half-orc bard, skilled in magic and lore but requiring constant reminding about the task at hand. He recognizes Khynal’s sword immediately – the Hordemaster. He explains that the weapon was created by the Gold Dragon-emperor, Salisperrin, and was once wielded by the Dragonknight Argos. Beyond its enhancements in combat, it will create a guardian construct in the shape of a dragon if placed within a pile of treasure, and can detect large quantities of precious metal within sixty feet. Although the command word for the Guardian was well known, Eran can’t recall if the command word for detecting gold was ever recorded.
When shown the symbol worn by the brown-robed attackers, Eran becomes serious. He explains that it belongs to an extinct cult, one that worshipped a dark elemental power, and he seemed surprised that they were active again. Although he didn’t know much about the cult, he recommends two people within the city who would know more. The first is a cleric of Bahamut, Thenden, who serves at the cities Dragonknight charterhouse, and the other was a sage at the city university named Thenden who specialized in ancient religion.
The party heads back into the city, taking Pippin with them as a guide. They try to find Thenden first, stopping in at the charterhouse. The two knights on guard duty go grim when they mention Thenden’s name, pointing out that he went into the depths to rescue a trapped novitiate of the order and has been missing for a week. While the elders of the church are concerned, they cannot spare the manpower to go searching for him.
The party debates trying to mount a rescue, eventually deciding that they’ll explore other avenues of information before heading below. As they head towards the university, they realize they’re being tailed once again.
This time their follower is an ogre, about seven feet tall and wearing a heavy gauntlet with a row of spikes along the knuckles. His attempts to shadow the party are clumsy, and when they eventually turn to confront the ogre, he seems almost pleased.
The ogre doesn’t attack immediately, instead demanding Khynal hand over the sword or be beaten into a pulp. The ogre and the party trade insults for a few moments, but it become apparent that Tork is unwilling to start a fight in the gentile and well guarded University district. The three companions shrug, head towards Logda’s campus with the ogre falling back to a clumsy shadowing distance.
When they arrive at the university, the guards at the campus gates refuse them entry. Khynal asks for a reason, explaining that they need to talk to the professor. The guards refuse once again, nervously eyeing the ogre that lurks menacingly in the background. Khynal glares at the ogre, who grins and waves with his spiked glove. After some quick negotiating with the guards, it’s finally agreed that Meryn will head in to talk to Logda and will then meet her companions back at the Gilded Gargoyle. Meryn heads into the campus, while Bjorn and Khynal head towards their favored inn.
Meryn’s visit to the professor is short; the middle-aged man is rushing to get to a class, although she manages to pique his interest with the symbol and secures a meeting with him the following day. Frustrated, she heads back to the campus gates to find Pippin and get directions to her companions favored watering hole.
It is as Bjorn and Khynal head back into the seedier, less patrolled Demon-mouth district that Tork finds the nerve to attack. HE makes another threat about the sword, one which both companions ignore, and then lunges forward with a scream. The fight is protracted and bloody, with Tork’s spiked gauntlet dropping both characters and Voolfy into low HP, taking several spear-thrusts, pistol shots and concussive blasts in return. The fight ends with all combatants on 5 hp or less, Tork falling back and complimenting the little-un’s for being tougher than they look.
Bjorn, Khynal and Meryn meet up again in the tap-room of the Gargoyle, tired and worn out from the days events. Meryn tells the others of the meeting with Logda, and all three are strangely quite as they eat a light supper, lost in thoughts of unknown attackers and the light tingle on each of their birthmarks.
