"May we join you?" asked the young moon elf. She had long straight white hair and light blue skin. She carried herself with grace and nobility. With her stood a high elf, tall and powerfully built, and a human priest, proud and a little imperious.
"No, please. Have a seat" said the half-orc sitting alone at the table. "Pleased to meet you. The name's Push-ta. Push-ta Tok."
"Greetings, Push-ta. I am Winterfrost. My companions are Etlenda - you may call him Exile - and Tempus. We are new to Waterdeep."
"Me too. I used to be a fisherman of sorts. Had a bad run of luck and I find meself here."
The human eyed him suspiciously.
Push-ta tried to change the subject, "What brings you to Waterdeep?"
Exile said, "We, too, are looking for some employment."
Tempus added, "I told them that Waterdeep was the destination for those with a sword to sell. I myself heard that there was no better place to be than the Yawning Portal."
"Swords to sell, eh? And what is it you do then sir?" asked Push-ta.
"I'm a Road Sheriff," replied Tempus, "I help protect the Trade Way from bandits and root out smugglers. Exile was a caravan guard - that is how I made his acquaintance."
Push-ta nearly choked on his beer, "A- a road sheriff you say?"
"Yes, but I am also a husband and a father, and an initiate in the holy mysteries of Helm, god of protectors. I wish to sell my services as a healer and defender so that I might better support my family."
"So, yer not on duty then?" inquired Push-ta warily.
"No. Why?"
"N-no reason at all," deflected the half-orc.
A commotion arose at the next table over, “Ya pig! Like killin' me mates, does ya?”
A seven-foot-tall half-orc woman was hit by a wild, swinging punch from a human man. The man's shaved head was covered with eye-shaped tattoos. Four other men stood behind him, ready to jump into the fray. The half-orc cracked her knuckles, roared, and leaped at the tattooed figure.
Push-ta got up out of his chair, "Welcome to the Yawning Portal!"
CHAPTER 1
"A FRIEND IN NEED"
The Adventurers:
- Winterfrost of House Silverspear - Neutral Good Moon Elf Noble and Fighter.
- Etlenda, aka "Exile" - Neutral Good Eladrin Outlander and Paladin.
- Tempus Vegvisir - Lawful Good Human Trade Sheriff and Cleric of Helm
- Push-ta Tok - Neutral Half-Orc Smuggler and Rogue.
Tavern Brawl
Someone in the bar shouted "Fight!" and a cheering crowd formed quickly around the altercation.
Push-ta stood up from his seat and shoved the bald man back. One of his associates tried to punch the half-orc. Exile disappeared in a smash flash, reappearing behind one of the thugs. Exile cut a towering muscular figure. He glowered over the thugs and demanded they stop. The thugs ignored him and kept fighting.
Winterfrost stood from her bench and tried to resolve the situation with words. She, too, was ignored. Tempus stood and held his badge of office high - declaring himself a road warden of the Trade Way. The thugs paused momentarily at that information. The half-orc woman stood back with her hands held palms up. She smiled, baring her tusks.
The bald fighter became enraged and swung wildly at Push-ta, pummeling him. Push-ta shoved him back again into a nearby stone wall.
The half-orc woman took advantage of the situation and lunged forward, decking the bald thug. The bald thug fell down, unconscious. The throng cheers in delight.
"All right! That's it! Out!" The bartender's shout suddenly quiets the room. The human gang-members pick their bald leader off the floor and carry him out. The half-orc woman rubs her fist and smiles. She looks over at Push-ta, "Thanks. The name's Yagra."
The two had barely exchanged a smile before someone in the crowd screamed.
Troll and Friends
The crowd quickly dispersed, backing away from the center of the room and towards the walls. A large green humanoid creature with long lanky limbs and warty green skin crawled up out of the forty-foot wide pit in the center of the room from which the Yawning Portal got its name.
The bartender shouted a warning, "Troll!" and grabbed an ornate sword off the wall behind him. He leaped over the bar, sword in hand, and charged the beast.
The troll was covered in small bat-winged creatures- like someone crossed a bat, a mosquito, and a rat. They clung to the troll like ticks on a dog. Several of the small creatures - known as stirges - dislodged themselves and flew around the room as the troll bellowed.
One of the stirges latched onto Push-ta, piercing his skin with its log proboscis. Push-ta grabbed the creature and ripped it away, hurling it to the floor.
Winterfrost picked up a two-handed warhammer and attacked the troll.
The bartender entered the fight in a frenzy of sword cuts and thrusts with his amazing blade. The troll reeled from the onslaught. Exile drew his longsword and likewise attacked the troll.
Tempus pointed at one of the stirges and the room filled with the peal of a bell. The stirge shuddered and exploded.
Push-ta drew his dagger and stabbed the stirge that had attacked him.
The troll roared and slashed the bartender with its claws. The bartender counterattacked with another flurry of attacks, severing the troll's arm. The troll roared in pain and fell to the ground.
The bartender said, "Can any of you produce some flame? We need to burn this troll, quickly!"
Exile grabbed an oil lamp off of one of the bar's tables and hurled it onto the dead troll, setting it on fire.
The bartender shouted, "Quickly! Help me drag it over towards the pit and toss it back!"
The troll's arm continued to move on its own volition, grasping Push-ta and sinking its claws into his flesh.
Tempus smashed another oil lamp onto the wooden floor of the bar near where Push-ta was standing, setting the floor on fire, "Push-ta, throw the arm into the fire!"
Exile and the bartender were heaving the burning bulk of the troll towards the pit, "Could you maybe please stop setting my bar on fire and help me throw this back into the pit?"
"Sorry!"
Winterfrost took careful aim to avoid hitting Push-ta and smacked the severed arm with her warhammer. Push-ta managed to wrestle the arm over towards the edge of the pit where he pulled it away and threw it into the dark abyss.
Exile and the bartender likewise heaved the troll's body into the dark void.
The bartender stood and regarded his assistants. He gave them the subtlest of nods and said, matter of factly, "You fought well. Now help me put out these fires."
MeetingVolo
The crowd clapped a little at the defeat of the troll. Afterwards the crowd dispersed and returned to whatever it was they were doing before the brawl. One man slow-clapped as he approached the group.
The portly man wore an over-sized floppy hat and a scarf, his handle-bar moustache was well oiled. He smiled, "Well done! Well done! You acquitted yourself handsomely, I dare say! You are adventurers for hire, aren't you? I can tell! You have a look about you! Greetings! I am Volothamp Geddarm, chronicler, wizard, and celebrity, at your service. You've- ," he paused, "-probably heard of me. In any case. I could use your help. Let's find a table to talk, shall we?"
They invited the man to join their table. "What can we do for you?" asked Tempus.
"I trust you've noted the violence in our fair city these past tendays. I haven't seen so much blood since my last visit to Baldur's Gate! But now I fear I have misplaced a friend amid this odious malevolence."
He took a drink from his tankard before continuing.
“My friend's name is Floon Blagmaar. He's got more beauty than brains, and I worry he took a bad way home a couple nights ago and was kidnapped—or worse. If you agree to track him down with all due haste, I can offer you ten dragons now, and I can give you ten times that when you find Floon. May I prevail upon you in my hour of need? "
The team agreed.
Volo described his friend, "Floon is a handsome man in his early thirties with wavy red-blond hair. He was dressed in princely garb when I last saw him. Two nights ago, before Floon disappeared, we were drinking and merrymaking at the Skewered Dragon, a dark, bawdy tavern in the Dock Ward. I recommend that you start your search there."
"What does Floon do for a living?"
Volo cleared his throat in embarrassment, "Well, you see, my good friend Floon was, you might say, in the business of making friends, if you catch my meaning. The Skewered Dragon is a favorite haunt of his and he can be found there every night. It is very unlike him to fail to appear two days in a row. I have become very worried about his well being and I would be terribly ashamed if any harm came to him as a consequence of our acquaintance."
"We'll take the job. We'll start tomorrow morning."
Finding Floon
That party purchased rooms for the night at the Yawning Portal. The following morning they hiked down Snail street, marveling the sheer size and diversity of the city of Waterdeep.
DM - Seriously, the players were very impressed just looking at the map. I drew them a path from the Yawning Portal down Snail Street to Fillet Lane. Mike Schley's excellent and detailed map did a great job of putting them in the scene of a huge fantasy city in the morning.
Blood in the Streets
As they turned a corner, they found yourselves on a street that had been cordoned off by the City Watch. Lying on the cobblestones were a half-dozen corpses, the victims of what looked like a gang battle. Watch officers had already disarmed and held three blood-drenched gang members in custody. Several officers were in the midst of questioning witnesses. One of the officers noticed the group eying the scene. “Get on,” she said, waving them past,“Nothing to see here.”
Old Xoblob Shop
The Dock Ward of Waterdeep consisted of tall, densely packed tenements. The narrow streets were darkened by shadow, even during the day. The smell of salt air and excrement lingered in the air as the party passed by rows of run-down buildings.
One shop, however, stood out. On the corner of Zastrow Street and Fillet Lane was a well kept store with a purple façade. Within the display window hung a massive taxidermy beholder. A sign out front declared "Old Xoblob Shop".
Exile said, "Okay, I have to check this out real quick." The party followed the eladrin into the shop.
Within they found a collection of curios and trinkets, useless odds and ends and what appeared to be junk and trash. The shop smelled of lavender and a purplish haze from the proprietor's pipe smoke hung in the air.
The proprietor was an old deep gnome with a bald head. Upon his cheeks were painted nine purple eyes. “Hail and well met! Come browse the shelves of the most curious curiosity shop in the world!”
The party looked around the shop, almost purchasing an old dirty sock said to belong to an ancient hero about which nothing was known. They eventually left having purchased nothing.
The Skewered Dragon
The party crossed the street and entered the dark alley between Net Street and Fillet Lane. They found the Skewered Dragon, a decrepit old building with smashed windows and a ship's anchor lodged in the roof.
They entered and were taken aback by the smell of stale beer and possibly urine. Two old sailors sat at a table drinking a mid-morning beer. The bartender was a middle-aged sailor with a bald head and a pear-shaped body. He was missing one hand. When the party asked about Floon, he mumbled, replying that Floon wasn't there. When they asked about the events of two nights ago, he shrugged.
The two old-timers spoke up, "You lookin' fer the pretty boy? He ain't here right now!"
His friend guffawed, "Haw!"
"Where is he?" inquired Tempus.
The old timer made it clear that his tankard was empty. Tempus purchased them a round.
"He left what two nights ago and ain't been back since. Ain't like a fella in his line of work."
"Haw!"
"Did he leave with somebody?" continued Tempus.
Again, another empty tankard. Tempus blinked and paid for another round.
"He was here with that Volo feller what writes them books. Got himself a bit in his cups, he did. After Volo left he met up with that rich feller what comes slummin."
"What's his name?" asked Tempus.
"Never remember." said the old sailor.
"You can't remember?" Tempus reached into his coin sack.
"No! Neverember! Ranaer Neverember's his name!"
"Son of the old Open Lord, he is!" bellowed his friend.
"The what?"
"The Open Lord, the only member of the Waterdeep Council who don't wear no mask!"
"The wee feller's a chip off the old block!" shouted the friend.
"Just another spoiled, rich noble who likes to rub our noses in it, more like! Comin' down here and slummin in his peasant's clothes. Like he's one of us!"
"What happened?" inquired Tempus.
"Oh, right. Anyway, The two drank and played a few rounds of Three-Dragon Ante before leaving around midnight. They got up to leave. Then those other fellers got up and followed them out."
"What other fellows?" asked Tempus.
"Five mean lookin' pieces of work. Followed them right out the door, like they had business with them two!"
"Business! Har har!" bellowed the friend.
"Anyways, if you want to talk to them fellers, you can find them usually hanging out at a warehouse on Candle Lane."
"Hanging out, he says! Har har!"
"Head up to Candle Lane, look for a warehouse with a black snake painted on the door. You'll find them fellers sure enough."
Candle Lane
They party went up Zastrow Lane, stopping briefly to purchase the fabled sock, and found Candle Lane.
DM- I thought for sure they'd ask the old gnome if he saw anything that night. But nope!
They found the back of the warehouse in question. The doors were closed and the windows were painted black. No one was visible. They went around to the front of the warehouse on the Way of the Dragon. They knocked on the front door but no one answered.
"Should we just go in?" asked Winterfrost.
"I'm an official Road Sheriff," replied Tempus, "I say this is probable cause for a search." He tried the door. It was swollen and difficult to open but it was unlocked and opened with a shove.
Trouble in the Warehouse
They entered the vestibule of the warehouse. They moved out of the vestibule and towards the back - into the large warehouse area. They found themselves on the upper balcony level with small piles of boxes stacked chaotically every few feet. It was dark but everyone in the party was accustomed to seeing through the gloom.
Push-ta explored the balcony straight ahead and looked down into the warehouse floor below. Meanwhile Exile and Winterfrost went down the stairs to the right, followed by Tempus.
In the center of the warehouse were several tables and chairs that had been knocked over by a fight. Along the back wall were the bodies of a dozen dead men - piled against the wall as if dragged there and arranged.
At the bottom of the stairs Winterfrost was suddenly attacked by a feathered man-like creature with the head of a crow - it wore dark clothes with a hood pulled up over the back of its black-beaked face.
The man-crow quickly disappeared behind a tall stack of boxes in the middle of the room. Winterfrost hefted her warhammer and gave chase.
Exile reached the bottom of the stairs but was likewise attacked by another man-crow hiding in the shadows! Exile fought bravely against the creature but fell before its blade.
Tempus rushed down the stairs and said a quick prayer of healing for the eladrin. The man-crow stabbed at Tempus. The short sword would have pierced Tempus' heart had he not turned the blade at the last moment, breaking his own sword to do so.
DM- I use a house rule I saw online somewhere that allows players to sacrifice a shield or weapon in order to turn a critical into a regular hit or a regular hit into a miss. This was the first time that rule had ever been invoked.
Push-ta could see the man-crow that was hiding behind the boxes from Winterfrost. He loosed some bolts at the man-crows with his crossbow but missed. He threw his crossbow to the ground, drew his dagger, and leaped off the balcony onto the pile of boxes below. He jumped badly but the wooden crates filled with hammers broke his fall. He stood up and helped Winterfrost slay the creature.
A third man-crow loosed a shortbow's arrow at Push-ta. The arrow struck the half-orc and he fell unconscious. The third man-crow then ran the perimeter of the warehouse to get a better shot at Winterfrost.
Winterfrost turned and flicked her hand. A bolt of lightning shot out like a lasso, wrapping around the man-crow's body. She pulled, dragging the man-crow back towards her.
With Tempus' help, Wintefrost slew the man-crow that she had drawn towards her with her lightning lasso.
Tempus, meanwhile, said a prayer of healing for Push-ta who regained his feet and killed the
A fourth man-crow emerged from hiding and attacked Exile from the hidden back of the warehouse. Exile made short work of the newcomer and the room was soon pacified.
Storage Closet
While the others were inspecting the bodies of the dead man-crows as well as the other corpses lined along the wall, Exile searched the warehouse for any clue of Floon.
He opened the door of the storage closet under the stairs and found a man hiding underneath a pile of mops. He was a handsome man in his late twenties wearing the clothes of a very fashionable peasant.
"Don't- don't kill me!" begged the man.
"Are you Floon Blagmaar?" asked Exile.
"No! Is he okay? Where is he?"
The man came out of the storage closet. He introduced himself as Ranaer Neverember. In addition to his unconvincing attempt at humble peasant's clothing - Ranaer's cultured and articulate speech belied his noble upbringing.
Ranaer recounted how he had left the Skewered Dragon with Floon two nights ago. Floon had been overserved so Ranaer was going to escort him safely home. They were jumped by five thugs just outside of the alley. He woke up in this place. He and Floon had been tied to chairs and gagged. They removed Floon's gag and interrogated him - trying to find the location of a large amount of gold. They kept referring to the crimes of Floon's father but Ranaer was certain they meant HIS father - the idiots mistook Floon, in his princely garb, for Ranaer! Floon, of course, knew nothing about it and Ranaer remained gagged and couldn't interject.
Ranaer said that the thugs mentioned the Stone of Golorr - whatever that was - and that it could be used to find the missing gold. Apparently the Stone of Golorr had until recently been in the hands of Xanathar's Guild - but someone had stolen it. They kept asking Floon who had the stone. Apparently the stone had something to do with his - Ranaer's - father. Ranaer admitted that even HE knew nothing about the stone. He knew nothing about his father's business - they had not spoken in many years.
About an hour ago, a group of other men came - enemies of the first men from the sound of it. They were negotiating over terms and comparing notes. They each sounded like they were accusing the other of stealing the Stone of Golorr. Suddenly they were all attacked by assassins! Ranaer managed to get away in the confusion and hid in the closet.
While he was hiding, during the bloodshed, he heard the following a deep voice with an orcish accent said, “Xanathar sends its regards.”
After the fight was over, he heard a thin, nasally voice say, “Tie up the pretty boy in the back room!” and “Follow the yellow signs in the sewers.”
A moment later he heard, a scratchy voice say, “No time to loot the place. Just get him to the boss.”
Searching the bodies of the human victims revealed that five of them had black winged snakes tattooed on their necks or forearms similar to the symbol on the door, while seven of them had a black tattoo on the palm of his right hand that looked like a circle with ten spokes radiating out from its circumference.
The Watch Arrives
A moment later, the freight door was thrown open and a squad of city watch poured in led by a burly Northerner, "Nobody move! Weapons on the ground!"
The party cooperated.
The burly Northerner introduced himself, "I'm Watch Commander Hyustus Staget. Someone tell me what's going on here?"
Tempus displayed his badge of office as a Road Sheriff, "I can explain."
Tempus explained that they were searching for Floon Blagmaar and that the trail led to this location. Fearing for his life, they entered and found these man-crows and their recent victims.
Watch Commander Staget examined the badge, "They're called kenku. Vicious bastards. These look like they were hired assassins. The thugs there with the snake tattoos were recruiters for the Zhentarim Syndicate. The ones with the circles worked for Xanathar's Guild. There's some kind of war going on between the Xanathar's and the Zhentarim Syndicate. We had this location under surveillance. Unfortunately, some of my observers were called away this morning to investigate another murder scene down on Snail Street so we missed whatever happened here. This violence is getting out of hand. Which faction did you say you work for?"
"Neither. I'm a sheriff of the Road Wardens. We patrol the Trade Way."
"Yer a little out of your jurisdiction. Take my advice, stick to the roads. You have no authority here."
"Roads pass through the cities."
"Hmm." Watch Commander Staget recognized Ranaer Neverember and rushed to his aid, "Lord Neverember! Are you injured, sir?"
Ranaer assured the watch commander of his well being and verified Tempus' version of events. He thanked the party for their part in his rescue.
With the endorsement of the son of the Open Lord, Watch Commander Staget let them go with a warning, giving Tempus a copy of the Code Legal.
Watch Commander Staget assigned some officers to confiscate and catalogue the contents of the warehouse while he escorted the Lord's son home.
Push-ta, still feeling a little beaten and broken after the fight, turned to the others, "So, uh, what do we do now?"
Winterfrost rubbed her chin, "It sounds like we head to the sewers."
To be Continued...
DM - I just have to say, there's a big weak link in the mystery in this part. The only way for the players to know where to head next is to have captured a kenku alive and interrogated it - thus learning about the marks in the sewer.
I was reading through the next section and it said, "At this point, the characters likely know that Floon was kidnapped by Xanathar Guild members who mistook him for Renaer Neverember, and that he was taken to a hideout in the sewers." And I was like, "HOW? HOW DO THEY KNOW THAT?"
Without interviewing the kenku, there would be ZERO leads to the sewers! My players did not interrogate the kenku, thus they didn't know about the sewers. I had to have Ranaer relay that information before he left.
Good mystery adventures need to have multiple vectors to supply information to the players. If they miss one vector, they might get it another way - perhaps more difficult - but there should always be a backup vector for information delivery.
Good mystery adventures should never rely on a single successful Perception or Investigation roll, a single interrogation, or a single lead.
Yay, I've been looking forward to reading your next D&D adventure!
ReplyDeleteAwesome. So far, feedback from my players is very positive. They are loving the story and the setting of Waterdeep.
Delete