Ed's 5E Game - Post X-Mas Recap

“Another Beer?” Mik asked.


“Sure” said the Elven Ranger


“COME ONE COME ALL, SIT! Hear my story, for this installment in the tales of Waterdeep is one filled with intrigue and suspense. Nary should a word be missed!” boomed a theatrical voice from the side of the tavern as Mik started to raise a finger to signal the barkeep.


Looking over, Mik noticed what appeared to be a bard, standard height (for a human) with the squat face of a gnome beseeching the crowd for their attention. His clothes weren’t too gaudy for a bard, and his Lute seemed to be in good condition. Curiously the bard wore an odd finger shaped medallion on a leather thong around his neck that reminded him of something he couldn’t remember. The bard briefly caught his eye, winked, and then strummed his Lute a few times. Attention had thoroughly been established. The air in the tavern seemed to thicken slightly, adding a faint reverberation to the voice of the bard when finally he spoke again.


“When we last left our heroes the noble Dragonkin’s squire had been found in the prison, with only a single night left before his execution… The heroes endeavored to stop this by any means necessary, and while they aren’t the types to break the law, they certainly bent a few!” stated the bard, as he began his story.

********

Thava open her bruised and blackened eyes slightly. She could hear two people talking, a man and a woman. The scent of salt water was heavy in the air, yet the world around her was mostly dark and cool, like she was in a deep cave somewhere. Turning her head just slightly she was able to glimpse the form of the female, a Drow. Also, not a slave, servant or vagabond; this Drow was nobility, perhaps even a matron. “What the hell have I gotten myself into” wondered Thava as she flexed her arms, testing her bonds, and hearing the slight jangling of the chains on a set of manacles. “Shit” she thought as she returned her attention to the Drow woman and her unseen conversation partner.


“What if she resists working, or tries to escape?” asked the female Drow.


“We will deal with that then.” Responded the unseen male.


“Hrm… that seems like a liability, are you sure she’s related?” she asked.


“It is most likely, she and her party seemed quite interested in snooping about regarding the others.” Said the man.


“Ugh, so be it” Then with a sneer she replied “if she misbehaves can I give her to Gar-kooth?”


A chuckle emanates from the man, “That is a possibility, we shall see.”


“Well he would enjoy that, whether it be for thrall or meal.” Said the female with a flick of her wrist.


“She shouldn’t be killed, it’s too sloppy, and her compatriots surely would have a way to bring her back, hair, fingernail clippings… sheddings.” Replied the man.


“Fine” Said the female “we should have the next shipment within the week. Gar-kooth has been helpful in more ways than one, He’s been bringing Gith slaves for the digging also.” Said the female


“That is good, let’s speak more of this at the monthly review next week, it would be good to hear what resources can be pulled from the astral plane…” Said the man, a slight shuffling sound could be heard as if the man was gathering his belongings to leave “Oh, and Eldeth… “


“Yes?” asked the Drow.


“Try to reduce the number of Drow at the docks, it’s getting quite crowded up there and there’s been talk on the council to make the Drow leave.” Says the man.


“I think I can manage that, though Bregan won’t like that, they are so bothersome for males…” says the Drow with a hint of disgust.


There are sounds that seem to indicate that the unseen male has left, from the corner of her eye Thava sees the Drow turn towards her and gesture, saying “Take her down, let her starve for a few days before we press her into work, she’ll be so eager to eat she’ll do anything we ask”.


The air is knocked out of Thava as several large black chitinous claws grab her and Thava feels herself hoisted into the air bodily, catching a brief glimpse of her surroundings she sees that she’s in a large abandoned road near what appears to be a large warehouse, before once again losing consciousness.

********

Dorn sat, looking at his hand, missing a single finger. “Not a decision I would have made” he mumbled to himself, feeling slightly scorned that the drug they had been ambushed with seemed to have taken away all sense of autonomy they would have had. Looking up, he could see the smoking ruin of the mansion where the party had been hosted. “Nor that” he continued.


From where he sat he could see serval of his companions, the Cleric standing wearing an assortment of Thava’s cloths, trying to talk to a number of onlookers, the bard, chatting it up with the party coordinator, the Ranger and rogue, both looking at the wreckage and trying to stay out of sight.


“What the hell happened!” swore Dorn under his breath.


“Things got really out of hand, these social elitist need to be held accountable for their actions during their parties!” Shouts a nearby woman, who may or may not purposefully be attempting to rile up the crowd, faint murmurs of agreement come from throughout the crowd.


The other party members walk back to where Dorn, the Ranger, and the Rogue are, with naught but confused looks on their faces. When, the Dwarf who’s been quite until now, wearing what appears to be one of Thava’s shirts, turns to Dorn as if to say something.


“Sir?” Says the dwarf with a confused look on his face.


“Sir, may I take you staff?” He blurts out. Earning him a puzzled look from Dorn and the other party members.


“Sir?” Repeats the Dwarf.


“I’m sorry, but I cannot permit you to enter the party with any form of weapons, I assure you, your items will be kept safe, and only you will be able to retrieve them” Says the dwarf, his form wavers and resolves itself into that of the butler from the entrance to the Masquerade ball. He appears to be holding out a token of some sort and gesturing to Dorn’s staff and Ring of the Ram…


“uh…” Stammered Dorn as he looks around to see the familiar setting.


At that point Dorn and co. experience a slight offsetting feeling, like Déjà vu, only much more intense.


“Yes, I uh. Sorry.” Stumbles Dorn as he removes the ring, and hands both it and the staff to the butler, “Little bit of a headache.”


The Butler takes the items, hands Dorn the token, and a number of small silver rings, one for each party goer. “If you step into one of the unoccupied side rooms, you will be allotted the requisite 1 hour to bond with your rings, after which you will be free to experience the party!”

********

The Bard, who introduced himself to the tavern as Dunlap, teller of stories extraordinaire, pauses in his telling of the story.


“For those of you who perhaps aren’t yet familiar with this story.” He says as he glances toward Mik and the Ranger. “Our heroes had already entered the Ball and fallen under the influence of a highly potent drug, waking some time later in a state of distress, But LO! That was all but a premonition, for the wizard Dorn was a seer of the future, a diviner, magician of the fates!” The bard begins to snigger quite uncontrollably.

The Paladinson

Troulula Brisk

“The party was warned of the impending doom, and were thusly able to prepare and avoid the drug quite deftly!” Stated the bard with a flourish, as several in the crowd clapped, delighted. “At the Ball they encounter many people; the Dragonborn warrior was mistaken for a lost love, and was able to help direct the misguided fool to his true heart; the Ranger freed a Pegasus that was destined to become the main entrée of the Ball (as well as making a number of racist remarks to the Paladinson of Waterdeep!); the Cleric unknowingly courted and impressed the ever lovely Troulula Brisk, a Lady (Lord) of Waterdeep!; the Bard, a personal friend of mine, played some exceptional music with his merry band of Jims and their new gnomish instruments, as well as besting a Lord of Waterdeep in a magic dance-off; while the Rogue and the Wizard, Dorn, had a dreadful encounter with an ominous darkly dressed person, white of hair, wearing a magical mask of red Dragonkin scales, and a thick iron chain about his neck that had hanging from it a large red gem. I know what you are thinking! Yes I do! This, this malfeasance of a man, was indeed our hero’s adversary, Phineas Cairn head of the Cairn household, Lord of Waterdeep, and imprisoner of the Dragonkin Warrior’s very own Squire! Lo, when Dorn overheard this man speak, he did recognize his voice as the voice of the man from his vision of Thava’s imprisonment and submission to slavery!” Thundered the bard, Dunlap, as a gasp could be heard from the crowd.

Castielle Brownbottom 

“What did they do Mister?” asked a small child, whom Mik guessed to be only 6 years of age.


“What did they do? What do you think they did?” questioned the Bard.


Shouts rang out from the crowd in the tavern “Killed him”, “Boiled his bones”, “Made him dance a funny dance with magic”, “Turned him into a frog!”


With a chuckle, Dunlap sat back down “No. no, they are not as uncivilized as that. They needed evidence to bring against this man, they did the best thing they could. They stole his book!” the crowd sat in silence, slightly puzzled.

Phineas Cairn

“A book filled with vile spells of corruption and evil, penned in the hand of Phineas Cairn, this book alone, would be enough evidence to get the man thrown out of the city and into Waterdeep prison!” Stated Dunlap “However, that wasn’t their only goal, they still needed evidence to exonerate their Squire, and this book alone wouldn’t do. They needed more TIME!” spoke Dunlap, his hand lightly resting on the long pendant resting around his neck.


“The party was able to beseech the Paladinson with logic, and obtained a grant of 2 weeks stay of execution, a great boon. With this new ‘lease on life’ the party retired from the Masquerade Ball, and used their magical resources to head to the once ruined Skullport, to search for additional evidence of the man Cairn’s wrongdoing.” The bard paused to take a sip from a wine flute sitting on a nearby table, forgotten by its owner during the telling.


“In Skullport the heroes emblazoned their skin with tattoos, markings of power to aid them in their quest, and gathered information, finding that there was a special shipment of slaves to be sold at a later time. Additionally, the Wizard Dorn was able to find the location of Thava’s kidnapping with visions of a future never to be fulfilled. Locating the exact street and warehouse he recognized from his vision. While not a guarantee that the meeting heard about in the vision would take place here, it would be a good start, perhaps they could stage an ambush of some sort, in addition to having someone follow the slaves that were being reserved by the slavers, as that was alluded to be the business that the Drow and Phineas had together.” Stated Dunlap ominously, as he stalked about the room.


“It was here that the heroes first sighted it… the broken run down shop adjacent to the warehouse, partially collapsed, with a sign hanging out front stating that the shop was ‘Professor Goosewaddles Magical Emporium’!” Exclaimed Dunlap with a flourish from his Lute.


“Tomorrow, tomorrow I shall proclaim the events that took place in the amazing place, and the events to follow. Stay tuned my friends!” and with that Dunlap sprang forth, disappearing in a poof of smoke leaving behind a lingering cloud of pale yellow and the slight smell of brimstone.


The Ranger and Mik stared at the stage for a moment before the Ranger turned towards the large armored man.


“Well that was odd…” said the Ranger and he looks into his glass “I need to stop drinking” he mumbled slightly to himself as the bell on the front door jangled. Looking over the Ranger saw a female Elf, dressed similarly to himself.


“Well it’s time for me to leave” he stated abruptly.


“Ah, as should I.” stated Mik.


The two gathered their belongings and left the Tavern. Outside the big man, Mik, stuck out his hand toward the Elven Ranger “You said your name was Altus?” asked the big man.


Looking at the hand with a slightly cocked head the Elf responded “Yeah” he took the hand and shook it firmly once “And this is my sister Mira” he stated with a nod to the side.


Mik nodded “Well I wish you luck on your quest to find your mage, may you bring her to swift justice” Mik let go of the Elf’s hand and swung a large cape up onto his broad muscled shoulders, the cape bore the emblem of the Paladins of Waterdeep. “Perhaps in another life we were friends” he stated simply, nodding “See you somewhere down the road” he said, turning and strolling away.


Faintly the Altus’ keen elven ears could make out Mik saying, in a sing song voice “See you somewhere down the road, on that cold, lonely night. I’m not afraid for I know it, Will be my last good fight!”


Altus looked at Mira “It’s been an interesting night” He stated.


“You have no idea” She replied, as she adjusted her should pack and the two turned, disappearing into the darkness of the street.