Sharn is a big (vertical) city. Crime exists, but in Grayshore, a waterfront district in Sharn heavily involved with trade and shipping, an unusually high number of persons have disappeared recently, including a pair of patrolmen from Sharn’s city Watch. No bodies have yet been found, and the only thing the missing persons seem to have in common was that they were taken in this part of town.
In an effort to find the missing persons and the reasons for their disappearances, the City Watch has offered up rewards, and one of the shipping companies in the area, Marsh Family Shipping has hired a number of sellswords from the Blademarks Guild, including Rhogar, to patrol the area at night, and to assist the City Watch and increase vigilance in the area.
In the small hours on a chilly night, the party, consisting of Shadowale the halfling rogue, Rhogar the dragonborn fighter, Gnofulk the (presently tipsy) gnome barbarian, Turnin the human monk, and Kyllar the human wizard, meets up, and enters the Greyshore district from the north, walking along the quiet bridges that spawn the towers and the narrow paths that corkscrew up the walls.
The party elected to keep on the main thoroughfares, and began their patrol/investigation by visiting one of the shipping companies, “Half the Time Shipping.” The company took up several floors in this tower; all of it making up one massive room. The party entered from a bridge on the more “warehouse” side, though they could see and hear magical cranes operating on the other side of the tower. A halfling met them near the entrance, who thanked the party for their assistance, but assured them that the company had no missing persons, and had experienced no ill effects from the disappearances. The diminutive person stressed that all the disappearances have been further south. Based on the conversations between workers that could be overheard, Shadowale deduced that this is probably a company working with the Boromar Clan, a halfling mafia composed of dozens of influential halfling families.
They left the warehouse via another narrow bride, and noticed an inn nearby, "The Fluffy Pillow.” While they could hear indistinct conversations inside, the party found the front door to be locked, so they knocked. Another halfling hushed his comrades and opened the door, informed the party that they were closed and attempted to shut the door. Kyller managed to get his foot in the door, and inquired about a room. The halfling conceded that they were open, but were literally all booked up. Kyllar’s foot-serving-as-door stop allowed the party to glimpse the common room of the inn, which had about a dozen armed halflings. They decided to leave well enough alone, and departed gracefully.
The continued on, and after another bridge or two, they chanced upon a tavern called “The Naked Dwarf.” Hoping for the best but assuming the worst, the party entered, with (assumedly) their eyes closed. The bar was empty, save for an older female dwarf and a few bouncers conversing in a corner. The barkeep was shocked at the customers, and offered them drinks, which the party accepted.
The party gathered around, eagerly plying the owner with questions, and the owner replying just as eagerly, ecstatic to have customers. The dwarf related the story of the tavern’s name; its former owner, her former husband, tended to disrobe when he drank, and many years ago, he wandered outside, and fell to his death. (Generally, it’s hard to fall to death in Sharn, as there is a standing reward for people casting Feather Fall on anyone falling. However, it was night, and no one was around to see this dwarf fall). She talked of how bad business was – all the missing people have gone missing at night – so everyone is scared, few people go outside, and no one is reveling the night away anymore. She’ll be very happy when this is all over with and the people found. The tavern hasn’t lost any employees, or patrons to her knowledge, but someone needs to put a stop to this, as tensions are running high in the neighborhood. The party informs her that they’re off to do what they can, as they finish their drinks, tip generously, and leave.
The party continued south, along the main bridges and pathways, with Kyllar’s nondescript avian familiar flying above them in the night. Through its eyes, Kyllar witnesses a small brawl near Rock Steady Shipping, a shipping company a little ways ahead of them.
The party hustles, but the fight was broken up and disbursed by the time they arrived. The City watch tried to move the party along too, but the party convinced them to chat a little. They learn that the guards are happy for the help, though they think the reward is hampering their efforts: they seem to be investigating more old grudges than real leads on the disappearances.
The Watch returns to patrolling, and the party stops into Rock Steady Shipping; far larger than “Half the Time,” but organized the same way. A stout dwarf grumpily meets them near the entrance in the warehouse section of the room, grumbling about being behind schedule. The party learns that he’s had about 10 workers go missing over the last month – snatched up coming or going to their shifts, or while on break. Workers are banding together, which has generally improved safety, but also led to squabbles and brawls with other shipping companies. Everyone is tense, and accusations are running wild. He thanks the party for their assistance in patrolling, but apologizes that he really must get back to work. When the party asks to interview workers, the dwarf relents, and singles out another dwarf, whose brother has recently gone missing. From this worker, the party learns that the dwarf went missing on his way home after a shift, and that he had a bright, burning red beard. No other useful information is gleaned, so the party apologizes for the loss, and takes their leave.
The party decides that the only way they’ll solve this is by fishing. Having started drinking prior to patrolling, a tipsy Gnofulk (who had lost track of time prior to the patrol and gotten a little drunk) is offered up as bait, with Shadowale following sneakily a short ways back, followed by Rhogar, Turnin and Kyllar about 100 yards behind the bait.
While a solid plan, the party picked a particularly short and well-lit area of the district to try this in. Gnofulk convincingly stumbled forward, alternatively bumbling his axe and using it to steady himself; Shadowale giggled as he ran from one side of the span to another, hiding behind any and everything before scampering on to the next hiding spot; and the trio behind crept cautiously forward, backs to one another with their senses and familiars alert for any danger. They never actually passed through any shadows, for this skyway bridge was far too well lit, and the three patrols they passed as they traversed it all eyed the party with disbelief, and simply asked them to “be safe” as the party approached “Everything Goes Shipping.”
The party entered a dingy, cramped building. While organized in a similar fashion to the other shipping companies, the size and quality of the building was quite wanting. A goblin in a surly mood greeted the party. The party learned that this is a tiny shipping and transportation company, and is new to the market. Previously, they were actually doing ok (there were a lot of things to ship, so were able to make it as a small business), but they’ve been devastated by the disappearances. They’ve lost half of their crews, and have had to pass on contracts to the other shipping companies, as they are unable to fulfill them. The goblin has no time to waste talking anymore, and waves the party away.
Operating on a hunch, Shadowale wants to investigate this place, and Kyllar agrees, eyeing the business name with suspicion. Shadowale finds a secluded spot while the party loiters on the nearby skyway, keeping watch. Despite being distinctly non-stealthy, he is able to climb up and through an open, quintessential warehouse swinging window, and shimmy down a nearby pipe down to some secluded shipping containers. The boxes and addresses mean little, so Shadowale opts to pry open one, but finds nothing illicit or incriminating. Satisfied with his sample size of one crate, he shimmies back up and out through the window, and back to the party, informing them that the company appears to be on the up and up.
While Shadowale has been snooping, the rest of the party has noticed that despite the extra lighting and presence of guards and mercs, there are still a number of shadowy and secluded spots in the area. They opt for the same arrangement, and Gnofulk stumbles out into the night, staggering alone across the bridges and walkways that form the skyways spanning the towers.
The party keeps this up for a long time, Gnofulk playing up his drunkenness; Shadowale stalking a ways behind; the trio observing from further back. After about an hour of dedicated wandering about; stalking; observing, Gnofulk hears something from an alley around a corner: shuffling, accompanied by murmuring and a few quiet groans.
Gripping his axe, and taking draining the last of booze from his flask, Gnofulk paused. “Is ** about to go down?” he asked aloud to the night.
Indeed it was. The plethora of buildings obfuscated the noises, which were far closer than Gnofulk originally thought, and a throng of humanoids burst from the ally, groping and clawing at the gnome, trying but failing to grapple him.
Shadowale shrieked an alarm, and began sprinting towards the brawl. Turnin, Rhogar and Kyllar began dashing towards it as well, with Kyllar using his familiar to magically harry the throng against which Gnofulk raged.
Gnofulk yelled “fire!” and fought hard against the littlest foes first while the rest of the party tried to come to his aid as quickly as they could. Shadowale took advantage of the distraction, methodically firing his crossbow as his advanced, luckily missing Gnofulk, eventually reaching his companion and starting to slice their foes from behind. Kyllar continued to cast spells through his familiar to weaken the throng, running when he could. Turnin ran and ran, eventually deciding to use some stored Ki to close the gap, hurtling himself through the air, his staff connecting with one of the assailants in a brutal crunch. Rhogar huffed and puffed, eventually reaching the brawl as one solitary zombie remained, whom he easily grappled, wrenching the undead simpleton’s arms back.
“Who sent you? Who are you working for?” Demanded Turnin, but received only mindless groans, flailing arms and the chomping of teeth in reply. Shadowale jumped up, and at the apex of the jump, expertly slit the throat of the undead. The fight was over.
In an effort to find the missing persons and the reasons for their disappearances, the City Watch has offered up rewards, and one of the shipping companies in the area, Marsh Family Shipping has hired a number of sellswords from the Blademarks Guild, including Rhogar, to patrol the area at night, and to assist the City Watch and increase vigilance in the area.
In the small hours on a chilly night, the party, consisting of Shadowale the halfling rogue, Rhogar the dragonborn fighter, Gnofulk the (presently tipsy) gnome barbarian, Turnin the human monk, and Kyllar the human wizard, meets up, and enters the Greyshore district from the north, walking along the quiet bridges that spawn the towers and the narrow paths that corkscrew up the walls.
The party elected to keep on the main thoroughfares, and began their patrol/investigation by visiting one of the shipping companies, “Half the Time Shipping.” The company took up several floors in this tower; all of it making up one massive room. The party entered from a bridge on the more “warehouse” side, though they could see and hear magical cranes operating on the other side of the tower. A halfling met them near the entrance, who thanked the party for their assistance, but assured them that the company had no missing persons, and had experienced no ill effects from the disappearances. The diminutive person stressed that all the disappearances have been further south. Based on the conversations between workers that could be overheard, Shadowale deduced that this is probably a company working with the Boromar Clan, a halfling mafia composed of dozens of influential halfling families.
They left the warehouse via another narrow bride, and noticed an inn nearby, "The Fluffy Pillow.” While they could hear indistinct conversations inside, the party found the front door to be locked, so they knocked. Another halfling hushed his comrades and opened the door, informed the party that they were closed and attempted to shut the door. Kyller managed to get his foot in the door, and inquired about a room. The halfling conceded that they were open, but were literally all booked up. Kyllar’s foot-serving-as-door stop allowed the party to glimpse the common room of the inn, which had about a dozen armed halflings. They decided to leave well enough alone, and departed gracefully.
The continued on, and after another bridge or two, they chanced upon a tavern called “The Naked Dwarf.” Hoping for the best but assuming the worst, the party entered, with (assumedly) their eyes closed. The bar was empty, save for an older female dwarf and a few bouncers conversing in a corner. The barkeep was shocked at the customers, and offered them drinks, which the party accepted.
The party gathered around, eagerly plying the owner with questions, and the owner replying just as eagerly, ecstatic to have customers. The dwarf related the story of the tavern’s name; its former owner, her former husband, tended to disrobe when he drank, and many years ago, he wandered outside, and fell to his death. (Generally, it’s hard to fall to death in Sharn, as there is a standing reward for people casting Feather Fall on anyone falling. However, it was night, and no one was around to see this dwarf fall). She talked of how bad business was – all the missing people have gone missing at night – so everyone is scared, few people go outside, and no one is reveling the night away anymore. She’ll be very happy when this is all over with and the people found. The tavern hasn’t lost any employees, or patrons to her knowledge, but someone needs to put a stop to this, as tensions are running high in the neighborhood. The party informs her that they’re off to do what they can, as they finish their drinks, tip generously, and leave.
The party continued south, along the main bridges and pathways, with Kyllar’s nondescript avian familiar flying above them in the night. Through its eyes, Kyllar witnesses a small brawl near Rock Steady Shipping, a shipping company a little ways ahead of them.
The party hustles, but the fight was broken up and disbursed by the time they arrived. The City watch tried to move the party along too, but the party convinced them to chat a little. They learn that the guards are happy for the help, though they think the reward is hampering their efforts: they seem to be investigating more old grudges than real leads on the disappearances.
The Watch returns to patrolling, and the party stops into Rock Steady Shipping; far larger than “Half the Time,” but organized the same way. A stout dwarf grumpily meets them near the entrance in the warehouse section of the room, grumbling about being behind schedule. The party learns that he’s had about 10 workers go missing over the last month – snatched up coming or going to their shifts, or while on break. Workers are banding together, which has generally improved safety, but also led to squabbles and brawls with other shipping companies. Everyone is tense, and accusations are running wild. He thanks the party for their assistance in patrolling, but apologizes that he really must get back to work. When the party asks to interview workers, the dwarf relents, and singles out another dwarf, whose brother has recently gone missing. From this worker, the party learns that the dwarf went missing on his way home after a shift, and that he had a bright, burning red beard. No other useful information is gleaned, so the party apologizes for the loss, and takes their leave.
The party decides that the only way they’ll solve this is by fishing. Having started drinking prior to patrolling, a tipsy Gnofulk (who had lost track of time prior to the patrol and gotten a little drunk) is offered up as bait, with Shadowale following sneakily a short ways back, followed by Rhogar, Turnin and Kyllar about 100 yards behind the bait.
While a solid plan, the party picked a particularly short and well-lit area of the district to try this in. Gnofulk convincingly stumbled forward, alternatively bumbling his axe and using it to steady himself; Shadowale giggled as he ran from one side of the span to another, hiding behind any and everything before scampering on to the next hiding spot; and the trio behind crept cautiously forward, backs to one another with their senses and familiars alert for any danger. They never actually passed through any shadows, for this skyway bridge was far too well lit, and the three patrols they passed as they traversed it all eyed the party with disbelief, and simply asked them to “be safe” as the party approached “Everything Goes Shipping.”
The party entered a dingy, cramped building. While organized in a similar fashion to the other shipping companies, the size and quality of the building was quite wanting. A goblin in a surly mood greeted the party. The party learned that this is a tiny shipping and transportation company, and is new to the market. Previously, they were actually doing ok (there were a lot of things to ship, so were able to make it as a small business), but they’ve been devastated by the disappearances. They’ve lost half of their crews, and have had to pass on contracts to the other shipping companies, as they are unable to fulfill them. The goblin has no time to waste talking anymore, and waves the party away.
Operating on a hunch, Shadowale wants to investigate this place, and Kyllar agrees, eyeing the business name with suspicion. Shadowale finds a secluded spot while the party loiters on the nearby skyway, keeping watch. Despite being distinctly non-stealthy, he is able to climb up and through an open, quintessential warehouse swinging window, and shimmy down a nearby pipe down to some secluded shipping containers. The boxes and addresses mean little, so Shadowale opts to pry open one, but finds nothing illicit or incriminating. Satisfied with his sample size of one crate, he shimmies back up and out through the window, and back to the party, informing them that the company appears to be on the up and up.
While Shadowale has been snooping, the rest of the party has noticed that despite the extra lighting and presence of guards and mercs, there are still a number of shadowy and secluded spots in the area. They opt for the same arrangement, and Gnofulk stumbles out into the night, staggering alone across the bridges and walkways that form the skyways spanning the towers.
The party keeps this up for a long time, Gnofulk playing up his drunkenness; Shadowale stalking a ways behind; the trio observing from further back. After about an hour of dedicated wandering about; stalking; observing, Gnofulk hears something from an alley around a corner: shuffling, accompanied by murmuring and a few quiet groans.
Gripping his axe, and taking draining the last of booze from his flask, Gnofulk paused. “Is ** about to go down?” he asked aloud to the night.
Indeed it was. The plethora of buildings obfuscated the noises, which were far closer than Gnofulk originally thought, and a throng of humanoids burst from the ally, groping and clawing at the gnome, trying but failing to grapple him.
Shadowale shrieked an alarm, and began sprinting towards the brawl. Turnin, Rhogar and Kyllar began dashing towards it as well, with Kyllar using his familiar to magically harry the throng against which Gnofulk raged.
Gnofulk yelled “fire!” and fought hard against the littlest foes first while the rest of the party tried to come to his aid as quickly as they could. Shadowale took advantage of the distraction, methodically firing his crossbow as his advanced, luckily missing Gnofulk, eventually reaching his companion and starting to slice their foes from behind. Kyllar continued to cast spells through his familiar to weaken the throng, running when he could. Turnin ran and ran, eventually deciding to use some stored Ki to close the gap, hurtling himself through the air, his staff connecting with one of the assailants in a brutal crunch. Rhogar huffed and puffed, eventually reaching the brawl as one solitary zombie remained, whom he easily grappled, wrenching the undead simpleton’s arms back.
“Who sent you? Who are you working for?” Demanded Turnin, but received only mindless groans, flailing arms and the chomping of teeth in reply. Shadowale jumped up, and at the apex of the jump, expertly slit the throat of the undead. The fight was over.
The party examined the zombies, and Kyllar found a magical rod (DieFi™ Rod?) attached to the skull and spine of one of the larger zombies, which he was able to identify as some kind of amplifier for necromantic magic, and is able to... remove it before the City Watch arrives.
The City Watch and a trio of Blademark mercenaries arrive quickly, summoned by the shouts and shrieks. Kyllar’s story of the bait and fight is backed up by Rhogar, and the Watch and sell swords believe the party. The (un, now re)dead match descriptions of some of the missing persons. The party has a lead!
The Blademarks present quickly slink away, as the Watch speaks with the party. Copying the party’s bait tactic, the Guild is able to dispatch another group of marauding zombies before the night is done.
A week passes, and no new missing persons are reported, and things begin to return to normal in Grayshore. A small contingent of lower-level Blademarks will be kept on retainer in the district for a few more weeks, but the City Watch considers the matter closed.
However, due to the party’s efforts speaking with the inhabitants of the area, they know the numbers don’t add up. If the missing persons recently are related, there are still two missing people for each zombie killed that night. While it is possible the necromancer was killed, the party thinks it far more likely that he or she is just lying low for now. After all, the bodies of the other missing persons have yet to turn up…
The City Watch and a trio of Blademark mercenaries arrive quickly, summoned by the shouts and shrieks. Kyllar’s story of the bait and fight is backed up by Rhogar, and the Watch and sell swords believe the party. The (un, now re)dead match descriptions of some of the missing persons. The party has a lead!
The Blademarks present quickly slink away, as the Watch speaks with the party. Copying the party’s bait tactic, the Guild is able to dispatch another group of marauding zombies before the night is done.
A week passes, and no new missing persons are reported, and things begin to return to normal in Grayshore. A small contingent of lower-level Blademarks will be kept on retainer in the district for a few more weeks, but the City Watch considers the matter closed.
However, due to the party’s efforts speaking with the inhabitants of the area, they know the numbers don’t add up. If the missing persons recently are related, there are still two missing people for each zombie killed that night. While it is possible the necromancer was killed, the party thinks it far more likely that he or she is just lying low for now. After all, the bodies of the other missing persons have yet to turn up…
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