"So you'll do it?!" Volo exclaims, hardly waiting for a response before clapping his hand together. "Great! you have no idea what this means to me, Floon is a dear friend of mine. Well like I said, the last I saw him was two nights ago at the Skewered Dragon, over between Net Street and Fillet Lane in the Dock Ward. He's a young man, early thirties, with wavy red blonde hair. Last I saw him, he was dressed up for a night out so he was wearing very nice clothes. I can't quite remember what the attractive man he was talking to looked like, I can hardly remember anything from that night, but I do remember he also was dressed in princely garb.
"As for your money, I will go now and get it squared away. I promise you, you will have your promised reward if you come back to me with any news. As for your signature, Whit was it? I will give you each personally signed copies of my new book "Volo's Guide to Spirits" when it is finished."
He stands up and rushes to the door, presumably to one of the establishments that sells books to collect his profits. The bar has calmed down since the fight, but as it approaches late afternoon more and more people have been entering, so it is somewhat stifling on the lower level now. Outside, it looks like the rain has let up to a light drizzle, though it is still cool in the wet spring air.
As you leave the tavern and head towards the Dock Ward, a notoriously dirty and somewhat dangerous section of the Great Harbor of Waterdeep, you round a corner and find yourselves on a street that has been cordoned off by the City Watch. Lying on the cobblestones are a half-dozen corpses, seemingly the victims of some terrible skirmish. Watch officers have disarmed and arrested three blood-drenched humans and are in the midst of questioning witnesses. One of the officers sees you. “Get on,” she says. “Nothing to see here.”
You all gather, especially Odrith, that this is a matter for the watch and doesn't concern you. It would be unwise to push the matter with them.
You can make insight, and or perception checks on the situation at hand to try and identify the bodies, victims, or guards.
"Skewered Dragon, over between Net Street and FIllet Lane in the Dock ward." Chalk repeats the phrase as she writes it down along with a couple other details. It isn't long before she and Whit hurry the others out the door. Yarga would keep for another time.
The cacophony of the streets leaves her head spinning as usual. So many sounds and chatterings, lovely. And of course it was disrupted as usual by a set of hooligans. Or well allegeded hooligans. Bahomet that was a lot of blood. "Always wanted to see you dispense justice," she says, curiously looking at the bodies. What could have happened here? Maybe it was related? Thugs capturing folks or something?
Insight to deduce what happened and who was responsible.13
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Odrith finally takes the gold off the table now that the deal is secured.
Odrith approaches the line of guards and tries to recognize any of them, but fails, then checks their rank decorations and notices most, if not all, are officers.
This is a serious issue in the city right now. A drastic increase in violence and disorder... what could be happening.
Odrith takes a few steps back at the command of the officers, but doesn't leave. he observes from a reasonable distance, taking in the crime scene and trying to gather as many clues as he can, something is not right in this city.
Odrith grimly looks at Whit. "Violence." Odrith states, looking back at the scene, trying to take long enough to look at it to maybe take a 20 on the shit perception check he rolled.
As they approach the dock, the stench of blood grows steadily stronger. Kaivius hates the smell of blood. It's something she deals with out of necessity, but really couldn't people try to not get blood every where? The scene comes into view, and there's enough blood to make Kaivius wish she'd chosen another profession. Noticing the city guard, she glances at Odrith, hoping that he will recognize someone and get the inside scoop. Seeing no recognition in his eyes, Kaivius decides to find out the information in a different way.
"Please, Sir, I'm a healer" She calls to the guards. "I might be able to help anyone still breathing, or at the very least figure out more on what happened here"
Chalk, looking inquisitively at the results of the violence, tugs on Odrith's shirt. Odrith, coming to his senses after the initial shock of seeing what happened, seems to read her mind, and confirms what she is thinking - more guild violence in the streets. Odrith, still not used to seeing such needless violence, has a hard time looking closely at the situation.
Their thoughts are confirmed a moment later, as one of the guards angrily responds to Kaivus' offer.
"There is no need for healing here, as these Zhentarim scum," she kicks one of the kneeling, blood covered men in the gut, making him cower over in pain, "made sure their Xanathar enemies were ruthlessly disposed of." She seems to come to her senses, realizing she said too much to these civilians. "Go on! I said this was no concern of yours, I recommend you don't make yourselves a concern of ours!" As she says this, another motions his loaded heavy crossbow at you in a "move along" motion.
As you enter the area of town known as the Dock Ward, you notice a distinct change in atmosphere. Tall, densely packed tenements leave most of the neighborhood in shadow at ground level. Most of the streetlamps have had their glass smashed and their candles stolen, and the smells of salt air and excrement linger as you pass by rows of run-down buildings. One nearby shop stands out from the others. It has a deep purple facade, and in its window hangs a stuffed beholder. Above the door hangs a sign whose elaborate letters spell out “Old Xoblob Shop.”
Down the lane, The Skewered Dragon faces an alley that runs between Net Street and Fillet Lane, not far from the Old Xoblob Shop. The Skewered Dragon looks like a ruin. Both of its front-facing windows are smashed, and a ship’s anchor is lodged in the roof. Through the windows, you can see a group of haggard patrons drinking from huge tankards. They look like they have already been deep into their cups this early into the night, and may be a good source of information.
Kaivius wrinkled her nose. She wasn't a stranger to places such as this, but it didn't make the visit any more pleasant. The stench of decay, rot, and negligence made her skin crawl with imagined infection. Glancing down the lane, she catches sight of The Skewered Dragon's front. The din from the bar is audible even from this distance, a sign that many of the patrons probably won't remember the rest of the night. Grimacing, her eyes wander to the shops on either side of the road and catch on Old Xoblob Shop. She analyzes her staff, worn down and battered from good use.
Maybe it's time I upgraded to something a little more pointy. She thinks, weighing it in her hand. Didn't this use to have a spike or something at some point? At this point, the staff is so decrepit that it is hard to tell it was even used for anything other than a battering ram.
Making up her mind, she announces to the group
"I think I'll take a quick detour to the shop. Might be a good idea to have something a little more intimidating to interrogate that crowd" she says with a gesture to the tavern.
"This is not an area where we should split up." Odrith says to Whit and Chalk, following Kaivus shortly after.
Odrith glances at the wears in the shop as he enters, but is mostly checking the patrons, looking for alternate exits, and hidden areas in the shop where people might be hiding in ambush.
"Yeesh I've been in some shitholes, but this... " Whit waves his arms around. "Is a shithole to out do all shitholes, I'm coming with. " He follows very closely to Odrith until they get into the shop.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"We should split up." Chalk insists, gesturing towards the inn then to her eyes. Observing is what she does best after all. She scurries towards the side of the shop facing the inn and settles against it. "I am trying to help you," she mutters in Odrith's voice. She didn't think that the shopping trip was necessary but then again most of what she had wasn't exactly bought. Getting used to coin would take a little work.
Odrith pauses halfway through the building threshold. He looks down to Chalk, her diminutive frame leaning against the building. "I might also keep watch outside. Whit, let me know if they have any honeyed wine or sweets inside. If you think there might be danger inside for you and Kaivus, do one of those shrill screams you are so good at." Odrith takes a similar posture as Chalk against the building. Odrith won't insult Chalk by voicing his worry about the small creature, but he does worry for her in this rough part of town.
The Skewered Dragon, as one of the most popular Taverns in this part of the city, has a steady flow of patrons entering and exiting. A raucous noise flitters down the street, coming out of the broken window - shouting, loud drunken singing, and several cacophonous instruments all mixed in the hum.
Kaivus and Whit enter the shop. A cloud of lavender-scented purple smoke trails out of the door. Every wall is painted purple, and every dusty knickknack on the shelves is dyed a deep violet. The hairless old gnome sitting cross-legged on the counter wears plum-colored robes. His cheeks are decorated with nine purple face-painted eyes.
The gnome lowers a pipe and exhales a cloud of lavender smoke before raising a hand. “Hail and well met! Come browse the shelves of the most curious curiosity shop in the world!”
Kaivius glances at Whit. Such a delicate thing, he is. Hopefully this smoke doesn't send him in a coughing fit. She'll just have to keep a close eye on him to make sure.
With Whit stabilized momentarily, Kaivius raises her eyes to gaze around the shop. Unfortunately, the smoke makes it hard to see more than 5 feet in front of her. Sighing, she knows she must speak to the wrinkled thing sitting on the counter. Bolstering her courage, she states
"Hail and well met! Do you have anything more pointy?" She raises the decrepit staff for the gnome's perusal.
"It's a good staff, I just need something sharper. Maybe something with an evisceration function?"
Whit pipes in "Yes, hi there. Maybe don't give her something too sharp. Wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it. Also you wouldn't happen to have any sweets in stock would you? I have a tooth that needs satiated."
Glad to have someone to sit with, Chalk uses the hopefully short downtime to scribble more notes into her journal. Mostly just snippets of the bawdy songs but other bits of conversation as folk move about their business. "In bed with the captain's daughter," she chatters along with some of them as they are inscribed. You almost wouldn't guess it from the the scrawl on the pages that goes through half a dozen languages. Plus she didn't exactly have the best penmanship.
"Oh nononono, I have nothing like that! I have treasures much more valuable than a pointy stick!" he squeaks, "Take a look at my wonderful shelves!" He throws out his hands and twirls on the spot, causing the lavender smoke around him to twirl mystically.
As you look around on the shelves nearest you, you notice several strange oddities, all died or stained in different shades of purple. You see an ornate brooch of dwarven design, a receipt of deposit at a bank in a far-flung city, a diary with several missing pages, and a dead scarab beetle the size of your hand.
The gnome eyes you closely as you quickly browse the shelves, raising an eyebrow comically high. "I've never seen you around here, and you don't look like people who normal this part of Waterdeep. What are you doing around these parts?"
"Hey Chalk, have you gathered enough words to tell me where you are from yet?" Odrith asks without turning away from keeping watch on the inn. "I've spent my whole life in this city and I am curious about your travels, especially how one of your..." Odrith pauses awkwardly, "stature, manages to survive the travels." Odriths golden face turns toward a slight rose-gold shade, embarrassed at not finding a kinder way to ask his question.
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"So you'll do it?!" Volo exclaims, hardly waiting for a response before clapping his hand together. "Great! you have no idea what this means to me, Floon is a dear friend of mine. Well like I said, the last I saw him was two nights ago at the Skewered Dragon, over between Net Street and Fillet Lane in the Dock Ward. He's a young man, early thirties, with wavy red blonde hair. Last I saw him, he was dressed up for a night out so he was wearing very nice clothes. I can't quite remember what the attractive man he was talking to looked like, I can hardly remember anything from that night, but I do remember he also was dressed in princely garb.
"As for your money, I will go now and get it squared away. I promise you, you will have your promised reward if you come back to me with any news. As for your signature, Whit was it? I will give you each personally signed copies of my new book "Volo's Guide to Spirits" when it is finished."
He stands up and rushes to the door, presumably to one of the establishments that sells books to collect his profits. The bar has calmed down since the fight, but as it approaches late afternoon more and more people have been entering, so it is somewhat stifling on the lower level now. Outside, it looks like the rain has let up to a light drizzle, though it is still cool in the wet spring air.
As you leave the tavern and head towards the Dock Ward, a notoriously dirty and somewhat dangerous section of the Great Harbor of Waterdeep, you round a corner and find yourselves on a street that has been cordoned off by the City Watch. Lying on the cobblestones are a half-dozen corpses, seemingly the victims of some terrible skirmish. Watch officers have disarmed and arrested three blood-drenched humans and are in the midst of questioning witnesses. One of the officers sees you. “Get on,” she says. “Nothing to see here.”
You all gather, especially Odrith, that this is a matter for the watch and doesn't concern you. It would be unwise to push the matter with them.
You can make insight, and or perception checks on the situation at hand to try and identify the bodies, victims, or guards.
"Skewered Dragon, over between Net Street and FIllet Lane in the Dock ward." Chalk repeats the phrase as she writes it down along with a couple other details. It isn't long before she and Whit hurry the others out the door. Yarga would keep for another time.
The cacophony of the streets leaves her head spinning as usual. So many sounds and chatterings, lovely. And of course it was disrupted as usual by a set of hooligans. Or well allegeded hooligans. Bahomet that was a lot of blood. "Always wanted to see you dispense justice," she says, curiously looking at the bodies. What could have happened here? Maybe it was related? Thugs capturing folks or something?
Insight to deduce what happened and who was responsible.13
15
Odrith finally takes the gold off the table now that the deal is secured.
Odrith approaches the line of guards and tries to recognize any of them, but fails, then checks their rank decorations and notices most, if not all, are officers.
This is a serious issue in the city right now. A drastic increase in violence and disorder... what could be happening.
Odrith takes a few steps back at the command of the officers, but doesn't leave. he observes from a reasonable distance, taking in the crime scene and trying to gather as many clues as he can, something is not right in this city.
Perception: 19
Whit whistles in grim shock at the scene."Hey Odrith, this seems a bit much, even for this city, any idea what happened?"
Odrith grimly looks at Whit. "Violence." Odrith states, looking back at the scene, trying to take long enough to look at it to maybe take a 20 on the shit perception check he rolled.
As they approach the dock, the stench of blood grows steadily stronger. Kaivius hates the smell of blood. It's something she deals with out of necessity, but really couldn't people try to not get blood every where? The scene comes into view, and there's enough blood to make Kaivius wish she'd chosen another profession. Noticing the city guard, she glances at Odrith, hoping that he will recognize someone and get the inside scoop. Seeing no recognition in his eyes, Kaivius decides to find out the information in a different way.
"Please, Sir, I'm a healer" She calls to the guards. "I might be able to help anyone still breathing, or at the very least figure out more on what happened here"
Persuasion 23
Chalk, looking inquisitively at the results of the violence, tugs on Odrith's shirt. Odrith, coming to his senses after the initial shock of seeing what happened, seems to read her mind, and confirms what she is thinking - more guild violence in the streets. Odrith, still not used to seeing such needless violence, has a hard time looking closely at the situation.
Their thoughts are confirmed a moment later, as one of the guards angrily responds to Kaivus' offer.
"There is no need for healing here, as these Zhentarim scum," she kicks one of the kneeling, blood covered men in the gut, making him cower over in pain, "made sure their Xanathar enemies were ruthlessly disposed of." She seems to come to her senses, realizing she said too much to these civilians. "Go on! I said this was no concern of yours, I recommend you don't make yourselves a concern of ours!" As she says this, another motions his loaded heavy crossbow at you in a "move along" motion.
"Come friends, let us begone. We have our own problems to deal with, no need to get involved with the guilds."
As you enter the area of town known as the Dock Ward, you notice a distinct change in atmosphere. Tall, densely packed tenements leave most of the neighborhood in shadow at ground level. Most of the streetlamps have had their glass smashed and their candles stolen, and the smells of salt air and excrement linger as you pass by rows of run-down buildings. One nearby shop stands out from the others. It has a deep purple facade, and in its window hangs a stuffed beholder. Above the door hangs a sign whose elaborate letters spell out “Old Xoblob Shop.”
Down the lane, The Skewered Dragon faces an alley that runs between Net Street and Fillet Lane, not far from the Old Xoblob Shop. The Skewered Dragon looks like a ruin. Both of its front-facing windows are smashed, and a ship’s anchor is lodged in the roof. Through the windows, you can see a group of haggard patrons drinking from huge tankards. They look like they have already been deep into their cups this early into the night, and may be a good source of information.
Kaivius wrinkled her nose. She wasn't a stranger to places such as this, but it didn't make the visit any more pleasant. The stench of decay, rot, and negligence made her skin crawl with imagined infection. Glancing down the lane, she catches sight of The Skewered Dragon's front. The din from the bar is audible even from this distance, a sign that many of the patrons probably won't remember the rest of the night. Grimacing, her eyes wander to the shops on either side of the road and catch on Old Xoblob Shop. She analyzes her staff, worn down and battered from good use.
Maybe it's time I upgraded to something a little more pointy. She thinks, weighing it in her hand. Didn't this use to have a spike or something at some point? At this point, the staff is so decrepit that it is hard to tell it was even used for anything other than a battering ram.
Making up her mind, she announces to the group
"I think I'll take a quick detour to the shop. Might be a good idea to have something a little more intimidating to interrogate that crowd" she says with a gesture to the tavern.
"This is not an area where we should split up." Odrith says to Whit and Chalk, following Kaivus shortly after.
Odrith glances at the wears in the shop as he enters, but is mostly checking the patrons, looking for alternate exits, and hidden areas in the shop where people might be hiding in ambush.
"Yeesh I've been in some shitholes, but this... " Whit waves his arms around. "Is a shithole to out do all shitholes, I'm coming with. " He follows very closely to Odrith until they get into the shop.
"We should split up." Chalk insists, gesturing towards the inn then to her eyes. Observing is what she does best after all. She scurries towards the side of the shop facing the inn and settles against it. "I am trying to help you," she mutters in Odrith's voice. She didn't think that the shopping trip was necessary but then again most of what she had wasn't exactly bought. Getting used to coin would take a little work.
Perception to just keep watch on the inn. 12
Odrith pauses halfway through the building threshold. He looks down to Chalk, her diminutive frame leaning against the building.
"I might also keep watch outside. Whit, let me know if they have any honeyed wine or sweets inside. If you think there might be danger inside for you and Kaivus, do one of those shrill screams you are so good at."
Odrith takes a similar posture as Chalk against the building. Odrith won't insult Chalk by voicing his worry about the small creature, but he does worry for her in this rough part of town.
The Skewered Dragon, as one of the most popular Taverns in this part of the city, has a steady flow of patrons entering and exiting. A raucous noise flitters down the street, coming out of the broken window - shouting, loud drunken singing, and several cacophonous instruments all mixed in the hum.
Kaivus and Whit enter the shop. A cloud of lavender-scented purple smoke trails out of the door. Every wall is painted purple, and every dusty knickknack on the shelves is dyed a deep violet. The hairless old gnome sitting cross-legged on the counter wears plum-colored robes. His cheeks are decorated with nine purple face-painted eyes.
The gnome lowers a pipe and exhales a cloud of lavender smoke before raising a hand. “Hail and well met! Come browse the shelves of the most curious curiosity shop in the world!”
Kaivius glances at Whit. Such a delicate thing, he is. Hopefully this smoke doesn't send him in a coughing fit. She'll just have to keep a close eye on him to make sure.
With Whit stabilized momentarily, Kaivius raises her eyes to gaze around the shop. Unfortunately, the smoke makes it hard to see more than 5 feet in front of her. Sighing, she knows she must speak to the wrinkled thing sitting on the counter. Bolstering her courage, she states
"Hail and well met! Do you have anything more pointy?" She raises the decrepit staff for the gnome's perusal.
"It's a good staff, I just need something sharper. Maybe something with an evisceration function?"
Whit pipes in "Yes, hi there. Maybe don't give her something too sharp. Wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it. Also you wouldn't happen to have any sweets in stock would you? I have a tooth that needs satiated."
Glad to have someone to sit with, Chalk uses the hopefully short downtime to scribble more notes into her journal. Mostly just snippets of the bawdy songs but other bits of conversation as folk move about their business. "In bed with the captain's daughter," she chatters along with some of them as they are inscribed. You almost wouldn't guess it from the the scrawl on the pages that goes through half a dozen languages. Plus she didn't exactly have the best penmanship.
"Oh nononono, I have nothing like that! I have treasures much more valuable than a pointy stick!" he squeaks, "Take a look at my wonderful shelves!" He throws out his hands and twirls on the spot, causing the lavender smoke around him to twirl mystically.
As you look around on the shelves nearest you, you notice several strange oddities, all died or stained in different shades of purple. You see an ornate brooch of dwarven design, a receipt of deposit at a bank in a far-flung city, a diary with several missing pages, and a dead scarab beetle the size of your hand.
The gnome eyes you closely as you quickly browse the shelves, raising an eyebrow comically high. "I've never seen you around here, and you don't look like people who normal this part of Waterdeep. What are you doing around these parts?"
"Hey Chalk, have you gathered enough words to tell me where you are from yet?" Odrith asks without turning away from keeping watch on the inn. "I've spent my whole life in this city and I am curious about your travels, especially how one of your..." Odrith pauses awkwardly, "stature, manages to survive the travels." Odriths golden face turns toward a slight rose-gold shade, embarrassed at not finding a kinder way to ask his question.