So there they were…
It was late in the morning, and while there was a bit of a morning fog in Sharn, the day looked promising. The party, consisting of Rhogar, the dragonborn fighter, Turnin the human monk, Shadowale the halfling rogue, Gnofulk the gnome barbarian, and Kyllar the human wizard, along with his kobold manservant, Kaz, were sitting along a table in House Ghallanda. After a day of rest, resting their psyches from contemplating gruesome murders, they were enjoying a hearty meal and assorted hangover cures.
Discussion quickly moved from what hangover cures really worked, to what the party should do next. While exploring Duran’s hold was mentioned, and the possibility of the party clearing it out and claiming it for a base of operations is raised, but they gravitate back towards following up on the murders.
Gnofulk had received an admonition from the goblin Zeke (now the City Councilor from the Cogs) to be careful adventuring, as rumors had reached him of the murders. One of the bookies from Zeke’s days involved with semi-legal pit fights had set up shop in Lower Dura and disappeared.
Rhogar had also heard from his City Watch contact of a presumed murder in Lower Dura, as well as the recent slaying of a harpy. The presumed murder scene was just reported this morning, and had yet to be investigated by the Watch, and the harpy’s body was found this morning, and being transferred to the coroner Gertrude for additional investigation.
The party tried to vote, but Kyllar was distracted by his kobold. The wizard had noticed that the kobold kept squinting in the sun, and seemed to be less aware in the light. So the wizard was applying generous amounts of a white paste to the scales (sunscreen), and adjusting the kobolds new adventuring safari jacket, and a little canvas helmet. If the wizard could not have a bag of holding, he needed to improvise. The short reptilian was heavily laden with what remained of the party’s potions and assorted gear, like bits of rope, and snacks.
Eventually Kyllar’s attention turned to the table, a vote was held, and instead of following up on any of these fresh exciting leads, the party decided to backtrack and investigate the several-day-old murder scene of the anonymous elf lady linked to House Tarkanan.
The elf was murdered in the upper parts of Lower Sharn. It is cramped, dirty, and wet. Towers seem to jostle one another for personal space, and rickety looking wood and cloth overhangs attempt to divert some of the drips off the winding pathways into the darker regions below.
The stairway along the outside of the tower winds slowly down past a few levels of apartments, and then branches out. The party soon finds themselves walking under some of the rickety-built overhangs, and after crossing a small footbridge to another tower (abandoned at this level), they see the white-chalk outline of the victim against the wall of this tower. Another white chalk circle highlights where she was speared to the wall. The City Watch’s cleaning crew has been by... but they did a poor job. The outlines of bloodstains can still be seen easily.
Turnin, who led a sheltered life in the monastery, regards the scene, and while adjusting his intelligence-boosting bandana headband, declares that the elf did not have a good night.
Gnofulk’s keen barbarian sensibilities though, notice that there were scuff marks on the wall itself, and determines that the elf was pinned by the spear, struggled either to try to get free, or to rebuke her attacker, failed at both, and was then cut down and exsanguinated, as the party already knew.
Kyllar casts Detect Magic, but finds nothing aside from the party’s gear, so instead pulls out his small, glowing Orb of Investigation, and examines the spear gash in the wall, and through the orb’s shadows and his own sense of touch, determines that the spear had a typical point to it, and that it entered the wall (via the elf) at an angle which suggests the strike came from slightly above; not straight on.
The wizard stands and turns, and nearly gets kicked by Shadowale, who is hanging from one of the overhang’s rafters jovially swinging his feet at what is head-level for normal-sized people, while Rhogar gingerly pokes at the wood, unable to ascertain if it could possibly hold the weight of more than a halfling.
The party looks around, forlornly, sure that they have missed a clue somewhere. As they turn to leave again, Turnin again looks back, and notices a small stone ledge near the footbridge that had been obscured by the overhangs. Excitedly, the monk bounds up, and clears the fifteen feet up to the ledge. From this new vantage point, the monk is able to see some newer rips in overhang cloth, and is led to believe that the killer was here, and jumped down to attack.
A little shaken, Kyllar glances around, and then looks Kaz in the eyes, and give his kobold one job (well, in addition to carrying the wizards gear and sticking to the party): watch the sky for baddies. Warily, the party agrees to depart.
They make their way to plateau known Tavick’s Landing, walking along the boulevards in the sky and winding around towers, and eventually find themselves in front of the magically illuminated sign displayed over the door in front of coroner Gertrude’s morgue. The party walks right in, and seeing again the empty reception desk, shuffle back, through some swinging doors into the chillier back room with the three examination tables nearby and storage slabs for the deceased away and slotted into the wall.
The plump older lady from Karrnath looks up, her thinly gloved hands held in the air by her shoulders as she was recently imbued and she was just about ready to get to work. The dead harpy lies face down on the table in front of Gertrude, wingless.
The party notices a single wing on one of the other examination table, and after pleasantries are exchanged, the party inquires, and Gertrude nods towards the Watch Report nearby on the third table.
While Kyllar reads over the report, the rest of the party crowds around the table, “helping.”
With the help of the party holding instruments and such, Gertrude is able to make it through her examination of the body, identified as Olethene, which is found to have received several intense, life-threatening injuries.
The harpy seems to have hit something, and most of the ribs are cracked. The wings seem to have physically been ripped off. And, along with all that violence, the face was slashed. The coroner cannot yet tell in what order the wounds were inflicted, or which grievous injury eventually felled the creature.
Having hastily perused the report, but not knowing any of the Watch’s shorthand, Kyllar is only able to discern a few facts. While the wizard is unable to determine either the completeness or accuracy of the report, he is able to learn the location the body was found from the report. He is also able to glean that witnesses higher in Sharn reported seeing something falling, while some lower in Sharn reported seeing a solitary wing from something plummeting down, deeper and deeper into the city...
The party thank Gertrude, and depart, heading higher into the city. Soon, it becomes noticeably more spacious.
The party notices that the sun did indeed come up, and it warms them as they snake their way higher and higher; higher indeed than they have ever been in Sharn. While walking over a long narrow bridge, the party notices that towers are much further apart this high up, allowing for glimpses of the rocky banks of the Dagger River and the rolling hills of Breland's countryside. About halfway over the bridge, Rhogar looks down, and becomes nauseated. The rest of the party is able to endure being uncannily high, and are able to help the dragonborn across the rest of the bridge. The bridge merges with a wide path, and an observation platform (their destination), and the party leave the plate clad fighter leaning safely against the tower to look up and catch his breath while they investigate.
Several small rods try to cordon off what was the crime scene, but wind has ripped the red and white striped cloth, causing it to ripple incessantly in the breeze. Blood, now dried, still covers part of the little observation deck, a fifteen by 30 ft roughly rectangular platform still hugging the tower.
Gnofulk, Shadowale, Turnin, Kyllar and Kaz start perusing the platform, and notice that the blood is centered around small depression on the platform, with is covered with smaller palm-sized stones, rather than the magically enhanced slabs of the towers. The party examines the depression, and realizes that it appears very likely that it was caused by the harpy smashing into the platform. Gnofulk looks at the blood splatters, and notices two distinct arcs, presumably from the wings being ripped off, as well as a little more blood by where the head may have been. As the Gnome is relating this, Kyllar realizes that the Watch report made no mention of the face slash as a distinct injury; it's possible the Watch hasn't made that connection. Shadowale notices an imprint, on the stones, of a medallion. The halfling doesn't know of many harpies, but has heard of a competent (if secretive, of even her name) harpy freelancer in the criminal world adept in surveillance, and thinks Olethene could be her. Turnin looks close and while adjusting his headband, thinks that this woman too, also had a very bad night.
Nothing else is found, and the party quietly withdraws, gathering up Rhogar and walking laterally a ways to get to a main up/down boulevard so they can quickly make their way down to the lower areas, to check out the disappearance mentioned to Gnofulk via Zeke and the presumed murder mentioned to Rhogar by his contact in the City Watch. As the party trudged on, (most of them) enjoying the view of these higher parts still, the gnome and the dragonborn realized they were talking about the same incident. Huzzah! That will save them some time.
...but the party was soon sidetracked anyways. Turnin skidded to a halt, and grabbed Kyllar's hand, who grabbed Kaz's claw, and the skipping monk dragged the wizard and kobold forward, past some rather large display windows showing a shop with tools, weapons, and nearly innumerable whirligigs, gadgets and gizmos stacked high on shelves and in display cases. A modest sign hangs above the door reading "Felmor's Emporium: Associated with House Cannith" and the bright *ding* of a bell rings as Turnin pushes the door inward with his feet, and leads the rest of the party inside, where they are warmly greeted by Felmore himself, a blue-eyed, black-bearded human male behind a display case of trinkets.
Most of the party browses, noticing the well-made tools and weapons, stamped with House Cannith's symbol of quality; a plate-clad minotaur. Kaz is enthralled by a mechanical jumping frog, and Kyllar keeps having to slap away the kobolds claws while he and Turnin talk with the shopkeeper.
Kyllar pats down Kaz and retrieves the Canister of Cannith, and presents it proudly to Felmore, and asks the shopkeep uh… what does it do? What does this shop do, uh… exactly?
The shopkeep gestures around. His is associated with House Cannith, and provides top quality mundane items like tools, trinkets, weapons, and armor, as well as some minor magical whirligigs, glowing whatsits, and he himself can provide some minor enchantments to things.
Finished with his spiel, Felmore unscrews the thin canister and retrieves a small scroll, mumbling to himself as he reads. For help assisting me and my operation against rust monsters… I Melora Forgestoker, a member in good standing with House Cannith…. unable to compensate them…. that the House Cannith ……. grant them a minor boon. Oh! The shopkeep replies that it’s pretty simple. The party can present this to anyone shop associated with House Cannith – like his – and that should gives the party something. Then the shopkeep writes to House Cannith… and there’s a bunch of paperwork... but that won’t impact the party at all. Essentially: present this scroll = get something.
Kyllar nods, scanning the shop with a more discerning eye, and notices some armor on a stand nearby, and his mind drifts to thoughts of the future, of having it displayed in a wizarding alcove or “guarding” the hearth fire of the party’s base… while Turnin also notices the armor, nodding discretely to the armor and then to Skull Buddy, the latter seeming to approve of the it.
Felmore eyes Turnin with a little skepticism. The Skull Buddy was a bit of a dying fad aimed at children. In retrospect, it wasn’t a great idea to model it after a Demilich (a lich who, according to legend, has gone into full study mode and neglected his body), but the kids liked it, and the different flashing lights and magical flames could let parents track their kids a little easier. But Turnin looks like a grown young man, even if he doesn’t “get” how to wear a bandana. What would this monk be doing with a kids toy?
Turnin asks innocently if the other Skull Buddies, currently floating aimlessly around the shop, can talk or shoot magic… uh, “zappies?” or “melties?” The rest of the party confirms that Turnin’s Skull Buddy actually does these things... so Felmore hesitantly asks to examine it.
Avoiding a few quick nips from the skull, he asks the party if they’ve seen a phylactery anywhere? Or if the Skull might be mad with power? Animating the dead? Blasting the living? Controlling your minds?
Kyllar takes a hesitant step back and casts Detect Magic-
-and blacks out for a minute, swaying gently back and forth. Using Detect Magic in a magical show was a bit overwhelming. As the headache recedes, the wizard is able to focus more on Turnin, but cannot detect anything other than the headband, cool hand wraps and cool staff.
Turnin and the party state that it hasn’t been too aggressive, though the monk admits that Skull Buddy does want to get a body back. He doesn’t seem to be able to reconstitute his own, as a Demilich could… but he is eyeing up that armor, saying that being around such a martial piece of equipment might bring back some memories of is murky past.
Felmore shows the party, who has now gathered around the cashiers desk and display case, the oddities of Turnin’s Skull Buddy. There are no dials or switches at the base of the skull; instead, Turnin’s Skull Buddy has an actual jaw, and hole for a spine. In short, Skull Buddy looks to be a legit skull, somehow imbued with magic. It doesn’t appear to be a Demilich, but it is definitely not a toy. He asks if he might take it back to the workshop, and look at it more with his workers.
The party agrees, warning the shopkeep to be careful, and if at all possible, to keep Skull Buddy out of the washrooms as its presence can be a little… unnerving in those vulnerable moments. The party begins to haggle over some other items.
The armor is far too expensive for the moment, and the party seems reluctant to cash in the Scroll for it. Additionally, Turnin’s requested smoke bombs and enchanting a sling or ammunition for Gnofulk will take some time. Add to all this that the party is rather illiquid at the moment, Felmore suggests the party visit in a few days, and they’ll talk business in more detail. The party agrees, and they depart.
It’s been a long day. The party has been trudging all over Sharn, going up and down, and eating rations and snacks from Kaz’s pockets in lieu of actual meals. The sun is starting to droop in the sky, but they think they can make it down to investigate the disappearance/presumed murder in Lower Dura before nightfall. They begin walking, moving along with other foot traffic along the stone walkways, running through the occasional tower.
As they make their way across a wide, stout bridge, the party looks around, and realizes that it is a little more populated than they’d expect for this time of the night.
Nearby, someone coughs, and at that signal, the party hears the rasp of steel on scabbard. A few passersby run to safety, as the soldiers form ranks to entrap the party on the bridge; a mix of longswords and shields and larger two-handers, all colored gold…
Their leader pivots, saluting briefly with his twirling rapier, and then pointing accusingly at Rhogar, announcing that the Blademarks Guild demands payment; back dues, and a cut from several months’ worth of soldiering, and additionally, that Rhogar turn over his insignia, and thus renounce his membership with the guild.
The Emissary catched the insignia tossed over by Rhogar, and the dragonborn then apologizes to the party, who rhetorically leap to the dragonborn’s defense, but the Blademark’s Emissary is not too interested in accomplices, aiding in robbing from the Guild, and it is no excuse that Rhogar hasn’t really received any funds for his services; it is (literally, I suppose) a poor mercenary who fights for free.
The demanded sum is huge (compound interest, you know), and as Turnin keeps explaining, the party’s finances are really illiquid right now. The pittance of gold Turnin offers from his outturned pouch is almost insulting. The Guild would, however, entertain a new arrangement, that the five party members do a job for free, and Rhogar must still renounce his allegiance to the Guild; they want nothing to do with the dragonborn. Stepping forth, Turnin agrees to the terms, spitting in his hand and extending it. Kyllar gestures to Kaz the kobold, as whoops that the kobold isn’t party of the 5 members, and will still be paid.
Rolling his eyes – a single copper to hire the kobold isn’t worth arguing over – the Emissary hesitantly spits into his hand too, and moves to meet Turnin and seal the deal. Before their hands can clasp however, a shout rises up “Winnifred’s mount is loose!” and screams can be heard from other walkways. Kaz tugs excitedly at Kyllar’s adventuring tunic, gesturing wildly with his claw to the baddie in the sky; a chimera flies around a tower and into view with a roar, and its red dragon head spits s gout of flame at those on the bridge.
Shadowale manages to avoid the flames entirely, but the rest of the party is momentarily engulfed in devastating orange flames, with Gnofulk flying into a rage and Kaz and the Guild Emissary immediately drop. The Blademarks on either end of the bridge withdraw to nearby cover as the chimera is driven down, and circles back to land on the bridge.
Unsinged, Shadowale is the first to act, lunging at the huge monster with nothing but knives and pure joy over having something to stab, as the blades cut deep, Gnofulk’s mind fixates on a single word: mount and his tiny legs angrily pump as he runs at the chimera, and jumps…
…but there are too many teeth, claws and heads in the way, and the gnomes mad ups clear about 6 inches, landing directly in front of the equally angry Chimera, who proceeds to bite, claw and gore the tasty-looking snack that has appeared before it. Turnin wipes the spit from his hand on his robe, and leaps toward the chimera, landing near the battered gnome and drawing some attention away with a flurry of rapid strikes.
As monk unsuccessfully tries to bring the beast to its knees with a pressure point, Rhogar too joins the fray, eager to defend those that just so recently sought to defend him, and shoulder-to-shoulder with the monk and gnome, slashes at the beast while ordering the wizard to make way.
Sidestepping the charging dragonborn, Kyllar looses a potent Magic Missile, the beams striking the beast in each of its snouts, but as the magic streaks out to its targets, Kyllar is taken aback. Singed, he now also has several arrows sticking into him, and he looks over his shoulder to see a tiefling conjuring light spells and a trio of satyr bowmen loosing arrows from an observation platform. The wizard groans, and feebly points towards the platform on the other tower in an attempt to warn the party.
Oblivious, and happy to continue slicing, Shadowale does just that, ducking stomps and flaps of the wings to cut viciously at the chimera, while Gnofulk, still enthralled by the thought of it as a mount, continues to jump ineffectually around the dangerous areas of the beast, and poke at it with his axe.
The chimera retaliates, clawing at Rhogar, clipping Shadowale with a lucky gore of the Goat-head’s horns, and clawing at Gnofulk. Momentarily ignored, Turnin has more success than the gnome, and after taking a step back, springs up and flips forward, avoiding all the dangerous areas, and manages to scramble onto the beasts back and into the special saddle… though Turnin can find no reins, and just holds on for all he is worth as the beast bucks.
Rhogar swings and misses, and instead of attempting a backstroke, commands the Gnome to strike quick while he distracts the beast, and the Gnome’s axe finds flesh.
Hobbling a bit, and very aware of how exposed he is, Kyllar shuffles towards the edge of the bridge, casts Spider Climb on himself, and walks around the ledge to end up safe beneath the bridge, though coughing blood.
Arrows are loosed at the brawl, and the tiefling lines of a blast of Eldritch energy that knocks Turnin off the saddle and forces him onto the Chimera’s writing back, while the halfling stabs more at the underbelly, though taking care to avoid the beast’s veins and arteries.
The heads of the chimera huff and wheeze in unison, and it sways, ready to collapse. Shadowale scampers away, while Gnofulk and Gnofulk grab and drag Kaz and the Guild Emissary safely away. Shocked, Turnin continues to grab hold of the beast, his arms flailing for fur or scale which may steady him…
The monster drops to all four legs, trying to steady itself, and before it loses consciousness, manages to do so, collapsing in a heap near the ledge of the bridge; Turnin’s fist quickly rising into the air in victory.
Seeing no wizard where he last saw him, Gnofulk readies a javelin, but cannot see any foe. Kyllar peers out from beneath the bridge, and releases a fireball towards the platform; striking the tower behind it, and blasting burned debris and rubble off the deck, succeeding only in the sullying of public property.
Rhogar gently cuffs the Guild Emissary back to almost consciousness, and the poor human can only extend his hand again, and mumbles “agreed?” After a few more gentle cuffs, the Guild Emissary realizes his now severely decreased bargaining position; no soldiers nearby, and saved by the very creature he had come to collect from. Patting the human's clenched fist, Rhogar reminds the Emissary of the insignia he has resigned, and the human feebly agrees to consider the matter of Rhogar’s debt closed.
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