Lost Mine of Phandelver Story

LMoP - Interlude: Arrival (Viola)

Viola's To-Do List for Phandalin

• Count out my GOLD

• Buy some NEW CLOTHES

• Buy some tasty FOOD

• Buy some SOAP for whoever's stinking up the cart

Chapter 3.1: Into Phandalin

The rutted track emerged from a wooded hillside, and the party caught their first glimpse of Phandalin. The town consisted of forty or fifty simple log buildings, some built on old fieldstone foundations. More old ruins- crumbling stone walls covered in ivy and briars- surrounded the newer houses and shops, implying that it had been a much larger town in centuries past. Most of the newer buildings were set on the sides of the cart track, which widened into a muddy main street of sorts as it climbed toward a ruined manor house on a hillside at the east side of town.

As the party approached, they saw children playing on the town green and townsfolk tending to chores or running errands at shops. Many people looked up as they approached, but all returned to their business as the party passed by.

Sildar, now recovered from the wounds sustained at the Cragmaw lair, seemed much more at ease. “My friends,” he said, “let us secure lodgings. I’m told the local inn is very quaint.”

“Oh, yes please!” Rose gasped. “I would do unspeakable things for a bed and a bath.”

“Shouldn't we drop our stuff off first?” Sonny asked. “We've still got a job to do.”

“That's very dutiful of you, Sonny.” Verne replied. “We'll first head to the Lionshield Coster to drop off the spoils from the goblin hoard, then Barthen’s Provisions to complete Gundren’s request, and after that: straight away to the inn.”

“That's good.” Peri sighed. “Sonny could use a wash.”

“Peri!” Viola hissed. “What's the matter with you?”

Sonny gave a small laugh, “Nah, it's alright,” he said. “S'that why y’all have been so weird with me all day? You know you guys can tell me if I stink.”

“Respectfully, my friend,” Verne offered. “We thought it odd you were not already aware.”

“No, I wouldn't have any way of knowing.” Sonny smiled and pointed to his nose. “She's defective- no sense of smell.”

“How did that happen?” Rose asked. “Seasonal allergies, some kind of sickness?”

“Nah, nothing like that.” Sonny replied. “When I was a kid, I was re-shoeing one of our horses and I guess she didn't like the way I approached ‘cause she kicked me clean in the face. Totally smashed my nose. The local clerics were able to fix the structural damage, but it left me with a bum sniffer.”

“You were kicked in the face by a horse…as a child…and you lived?” Viola asked, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, I guess.” Sonny laughed. “Thankfully it didn't leave me too funny looking- just the right amount.”

The others didn't say anything, but stared with newfound respect for (and possibly fear of) the young warrior as they rode toward the Lionshield Coster.

Chapter 3.2: The Lionshield Coster

The party rolled up to the trading post, signified by the blue lion emblazoned on the shield-shaped wooden sign that hung above the door. Sonny heeled the horses, then got to work unloading the bulky supplies with Sildar while the others entered the shop.

The interior of the Lionshield Coster was clean, but modest. Wooden shelves and displays lined the walls, each carrying a selection of armor and weapons. Behind the counter was a dark-haired woman in the customary royal blue uniform of Lionshields employees. “Welcome to the Lionshield Coster,” she said, “how can I help you today?”

“We're actually here to return something of yours.” Verne offered. 

“Oh?” The woman raised an eyebrow. “Well that's too bad. See, we've got an ‘all sales are final’ policy here. So unless you plan to buy something, you'd best be on your way.”

“No, madam,” Verne laughed. “You misunderstand me, I-”

“Listen here, elf.” The woman growled, folding her hands on the desk. “I've got enough trouble on my hands without some two-copper punks coming in here trying to make some quick coin with a phony return. Now I'll ask you one more time to please leave.”

Thankfully, at that moment, Sonny stepped through the front door of the coster, bearing a crate on each shoulder. Immediately, the woman straightened up, seeing the blue lion crest on the face of the crate. Sonny, meeting the woman's gaze, flashed a clumsy smile and sidled up to the counter.

“Hey there miss,” the young warrior said, oblivious to the previous tension. “My friends and I recovered some of your stuff and we thought we'd return it to ya. Is there anywhere I should drop it off?”

“Oh, right there is just fine.” The woman said, gesturing to a space next to the counter. Sonny obliged, gently setting down his load as Sildar walked in with the rest of the recovered goods.

“So that's what you meant.” The woman said, her face awash with embarrassment. “I'm sorry, folks. We've had so many problems with bandits and troublemakers lately that I've been a bit on edge. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Pay it no mind.” Verne smiled kindly. “Caution is a wise practice when you're in the business of weaponry. My name is Verne, and these are my friends Peri, Rose, Sildar, Sonny and Viola. It is nice to meet you.”

“The name's Linene, and I appreciate that, but still,” she replied. “You've done me a service and I'd like to show you my gratitude.” She reached into a pouch beneath the counter and pulled out fifty gold pieces that she distributed between them.

“You mentioned something about bandits?” Rose asked, pulling her satchel close. “Are they a common nuisance around here?”

“‘Fraid so.” Linene replied grimly. “Especially lately. Phandalin has always been a bit ‘rough and tumble’- comes with the territory of being a frontier town. But lately we've had trouble with a bunch of crooks who call themselves the Redbrands.”

“The Redbrands?” Rose pulled out a journal and began scrawling out notes. “What are they like?”

“They're a bunch of thieves and bullies,” Linene growled, “who like to throw their weight around and hassle the townsfolk. They mostly hang around the Sleeping Giant Taphouse, get drunk and beat up anyone who looks at them funny. You'd best avoid them if you can.”

“We will keep that in mind, thank you,” said Verne.

“While you're here, can I interest you in any weapons or armor?” Linene asked.

“I could use some sturdier armor.” Viola piped up. “Ideally something with better coverage.” The halfling gestured to where she'd been shot earlier.

“Sure thing.” Linene replied. She turned into the back and retrieved a set of studded leathers that she held down for Viola to feel. 

“Ooh, that's very nice!” Viola cooed, tapping her finger on one of the studs. “I'll take it.”

“Great! We'll need to size that down for you, but since I owe you a favor I can waive the tailoring fee. Without that, the total will be forty five gold pieces.”

Viola quickly withdrew her hand and stepped back, her face scandalized. “That can't be right,” she gasped. “I said I wanted the armor, not your whole shop!”

“Armor is an investment, ma'am.” Linene replied, a hint of irritation in her voice. “You need to consider the materials, cost of labor to make it, and how valuable it is.”

“Hmm.” Viola stroked her chin in mock contemplation. “Well, now I've considered it, and it's still way too much!”

“Viola…” Verne warned. But the halfling remained obstinate. She folded her arms and locked eyes with the saleswoman, who similarly didn't seem ready to back down. But eventually, Linene sighed and said, “Alright, miss. Tell you what. You've all done me a favor, and I'd like to recognize that. If you want, I'll let you trade in your current armor and knock ten gold pieces off the final price.”

Viola opened her mouth, seemingly to argue further, but a look from Verne made her reconsider. “Fine. Thirty gold pieces it is.”

“I think you mean thirty-five, little lady.” Linene said, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, that's right.” Viola laughed. “How silly of me.”

Linene frowned, but didn't belabor the point any further. “Like I said, we'll need to re-size the armor for you, which should take about two days. So if you'd like, you could put twenty gold down today and pay the rest when it's finished.”

“Sure, sounds great.” Viola grumbled as she fished out her newly acquired gold. “Like slowly ripping off a bandage.”

“Viola, please.” Verne sighed. “If it isn't too much trouble, I would like to partake in this deal as well. As you can see, it would do me some good.” The ranger gestured to the many holes that now dotted his leathers.

“Oh my,” the clerk replied. “Yes, let's get you into something sturdier.”

Verne and Viola each placed twenty gold on the counter, which Linene carefully placed into a pouch. Verne also picked up a bundle of arrows for an additional gold piece. Rose had no need for weapons or armor, and Peri's and Sonny's equipment already met what the store could provide, so they held onto their coin. Then, with their business completed, the party took their leave of the Lionshield Coster.

When they got outside, Sildar said, “Go ahead to Barthen's Provisions. I'll head to the Stonehill Inn and secure us lodging for the night. Meet me there when you're finished.” The party agreed, and Sonny drove the wagon down the road.

Chapter 3.3: Barthen's Provisions

Where the Lionshield Coster had been a small, modest trading post, Barthen's Provisions was an expansive emporium of supplies. The building was nearly twice the size of the coster, and the shelves were lined with all manner of adventuring equipment. Backpacks, bedrolls, ropes and rations sat on well-kept displays, clearly labeled and with pops of color to draw the eye.

Sonny drove the wagon to the rear entrance of the shop, where they were greeted by two clerks who introduced themselves as Ander and Thistle. The party went through their own introductions before explaining to the two clerks why they were there. Upon hearing Gundren’s name, the two nodded and said that they'd been expecting the party's arrival. After securing the goods (and profusely apologizing for the white pawprints across the interior of the cart) the party was led inside and introduced to the owner of the shop, mister Elmar Barthen.

“Thank you so very much,” the shopkeeper said, clapping his thin hands together. “It's so nice to have adventurers such as yourselves to help our little community here.”

“Nice enough to get some coin?” Viola asked.

Rose rolled her eyes. “Honestly, woman, do you think of nothing else?” She huffed.

“What, are we supposed to just do everything for free?” Viola growled. “Not that I'd expect you to know, princess, but here in the real world things cost money.”

The two girls glowered at each other, and Elmar nervously raised his hands from the counter. “Now, now, there's no need to argue.” He said, drawing gold from a nearby pouch. “Here are ten gold pieces for each of you, as I discussed with Gundren. Speaking of which, where is that old goat? I was under the impression that he would be coming ahead of you to investigate the excavation site.”

The party looked at each other, and Elmar’s face fell with the uncomfortable silence. “Oh dear,” he muttered. “Has something happened?”

Verne explained all that had occurred with the Cragmaw Hideout and Gundren's kidnapping. Elmar sat back on a stool behind the counter and placed his head in his hands.

“How dreadful,” he cried. “Gundren is an old friend of mine, so please, if you can, get him back safely.”

“Of course.” Sonny replied.

“It's nice to meet friends of his,” Peri said, “he doesn't seem like the type who'd have very many.”

Elmar laughed, “Yes, he does have a bit of a gruff nature to him, doesn't he? But he's a good man beneath that rocky exterior. A good leader, too. Got a lot of us excited when he talked about finding the lost mine in the nearby hills. Last I heard, his brothers, Nundro and Tharden, were camped out over there, prepping the site for excavation. It sure would be something if they found it.”

“Sildar mentioned something about that.” Rose said. “Do you really think that it's the lost mine? People have been looking for it for centuries!”

“What's so special about an old mine?” Peri tilted their head, curiously.

“Are you serious?” Rose asked. “It has one of the most powerful magical artifacts ever created!”

The witch turned to the others, but was met with blank stares.

“The Forge of Spells?” she asked in disbelief.

“None of us know what you're talking about, bookworm, so just explain already.” Viola rolled her eyes.

“Fine then,” Rose huffed. “Five hundred years ago, clans of dwarves and gnomes made an agreement known as The Phandelver's Pact to share a mine in a cavern known as Wave Echo Cave. The cave had a variety of precious minerals and sources of magical power, which attracted spellcasters from across the land who worked together with the dwarves and gnomes to create the Forge of Spells, which could create magical items. Things were running smoothly until an orcish army swept through the north, destroying everything in their path. In the resulting battles, the cavern collapsed, and the location of Wave Echo Cave (and the Forge of Spells) was lost to time.”

“You've an impressive knowledge of history, miss.” Elmar said.

“Oh, I just like to read.” Rose blushed. “Faerun's history is interesting to me. So much more straightforward than the history of the courts back home.”

“Oh? Where is ‘home’ for you?” The shopkeeper asked.

Rose's smile fell and her posture tensed. “Far, far, away from here.”

Sensing that he was approaching sensitive territory, Elmar changed the subject. “While I have you here, is there anything I can interest you in? We've all manner of supplies perfect for brave adventurers such as yourselves.”

“I could do with some more rations,” Verne said. “I fed most of mine to some wolves, and it would be nice to replenish.”

Elmar widened his eyes, but said nothing as he grabbed ten rations and handed them to the elf. The others used the opportunity to replenish their stores as well. When they had concluded their business, Elmar waved them goodbye and thanked them once again for their services. “Oh, and one more thing!” he shouted as they were walking out the door. “Avoid the Redbrands if you can- they've been making all sorts of trouble for the townsfolk.”

The party waved their acknowledgement and continued down the road to the Stonehill Inn.

“These Redbrands sure do seem like trouble.” Peri said. “I hope we don't run into them.”

“Eh, I'm not worried.” Viola replied. “They sound like a bunch of losers who only mess with people weaker than them. Nobody who can actually fight beats on old people.”

“Maybe we should do something about them.” Sonny offered. “If they're really going around hurting people for no reason, I'd feel weird ignoring it.”

“An admirable sentiment,” Verne replied. “But we need not get involved in local squabbles. Little good can come from seeking out trouble.”

“But if we know something bad is happening and we don't help out, doesn't that make us part of the problem?” Sonny asked.

“Not if us interfering makes the problem worse, Sonny.” Rose replied. “If we attack the Redbrands, they might take their frustrations out on the townsfolk, and they'll be worse off than if we'd done nothing.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Sonny frowned. “But I don't like it.”

Rose and Verne looked at each other, unsure of what to say. They soon arrived at the Stonehill Inn, and all thought of justice and retribution was driven from their minds as they were greeted by warmth and the promise of a good night's rest.

Chapter 3.4: The Stonehill Inn

The Stonehill Inn was a large, newly built roadhouse of fieldstone and rough-hewn timbers at the center of town. As the party walked through the door, they were greeted by a crackling fire in the hearth, the scent of roasted chicken in the air, and several townsfolk sitting around the room, nursing mugs of ale and cider, all eying the party curiously but not saying a word to them.

Verne approached the bar, behind which were two humans, a man and a woman, who worked dutifully, pouring drinks and cleaning tankards. “Good evening,” Verne began. “If it isn't too much trouble, we would like to reserve some rooms for the night.”

“I take it you must be Verne.” The bar man smiled. “We were told you would be coming.”

Verne raised his brows. “My apologies,” he said, “but in our line of work that can be a troublesome phrase. I pray, please explain yourself.”

“Oh, my apologies,” the man said, flustered. “I just meant that your friend, Mr. Hallwinter, let us know you'd be staying with us this evening. He already reserved your rooms.” The bar man fished five keys out from behind the bar and handed them to Verne.

“Ah, I see,” the elf replied. “And where is Mr. Hallwinter now?”

“Wherever the nearest mug of ale is, my pointy-eared friend.” A voice laughed from nearby.

The party turned to find Sildar, freshly bathed and clothed, walking up to meet them. Though the bruises and cuts still showed prominently on his face, the old veteran looked better than he had in days. “A round of whatever drinks they like, Toblen,” Sildar said, dropping a heavy coin purse on the bar. “They've earned it.”

“You flatter us,” Verne said, “but we can't accept-”

“He doesn't speak for me,” Viola said, hopping up onto a bar stool. “A tankard of the hard stuff, and keep it coming.”

Sildar laughed, and though the rest of the party sighed, they smiled in spite of themselves. It was their first night in a long while that they had the opportunity to relax- they may as well enjoy it.

Toblen (who, as it turned out, was the proprietor of the inn) handed Viola a tankard of ale. The halfling grasped it with both hands and hopped down to the floor, holding what was to her a bucket of alcohol, close to her chest. “Don't take this the wrong way,” she said, intermittently taking sips off her drink, “but I've had nobody to talk to but you four for the last two weeks. So if you'll excuse me, I'm off to mingle.” 

“That may be a good idea,” Verne mused. “Perhaps some time apart would be beneficial. It would certainly allow for us to get more information on Cragmaw Castle and the lost mine.”

“I don't know,” Sonny frowned, scanning the room. “We've never been here before. Shouldn't we stick together?”

“At-ease, soldier,” Rose rolled her eyes. “I'll call you if I get a splinter from my bar stool. But until then, just relax.” The witch daintily took a glass of cider and strode off into the bar.

Sonny watched as she walked away, frowning as she sat down to a conversation with an old man by the window.

“Don't worry, friend,” Peri smiled, “if you get scared, I can hold your hand.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Sonny sighed. “I appreciate it.”

Chapter 3.5: The Stonehill Inn (Rose)

Rose sauntered across the tavern, eager to mingle with the Phandalin townsfolk. Loathe as she was to admit it, Viola was right: the party had spent entirely too much time together as of late, and it was high time they got to speak with new people that had different life experiences. Seeing the old man by the window, she confidently strode over, sat herself down, and said, “Mind if I join you?”

“By all means,” the old man replied, raising his tankard before taking a swig. “Name’s Narth. What’s yers?”

“Rose,” the witch replied. The young witch almost extended a hand, but upon seeing the dirty clothing of the man across from her, opted for a tip of her glass instead. “So what do you do for a living, Mr. Narth?”

“Just ‘Narth’ is fine, darlin,” the old man chuckled. “An’ I’m a farmer by trade. Own the homestead just down the road.”

“Oh,” Rose’s face fell. She’d assumed from the old man’s beard and floppy hat that he was a traveling wizard, like the kind she’d read about in her stories as a girl. But instead, it appeared she had simply traded one farmer for another.

“I suppose it’s not all that exciting,” Narth sighed. “But it keeps food on my table and the tables of my friends and neighbors. Can’t ask for more than that in this life.”

“I mean, you could,” Rose mumbled into her cider. Thankfully, the old man seemed to be hard of hearing, or was otherwise very patient.

 “So what are the goings-on in Phandalin, Narth?” Rose asked.

“Hm,” the farmer stroked his chin ponderously, “I s’ppose I seen Sister Garaele come back in an odd way.”

“Sister Garaele?” Rose raised an eyebrow and drew out her journal. “Do tell.”

“Well, the Sister tends the Shrine of Luck over yonder,” Narth pointed through the window at a small, stone shrine at the center of town. “She’s been at it for a handful of years now. About a tenday ago, she left and three days later she came back all bruised and dog-tired. She’s been real hushed about the whole thing.”

“Do you have any idea where she may have gone?” Rose asked, furiously scribbling her notes.

“Nah, I couldn’t say,” Narth folded his arms and looked out the window toward the shrine. “The Sister is a kind soul, but mighty private. She tends to keep to herself most days, unless she’s helping folks with something.”

“Curious…” Rose trailed off, studying the well-shaped letters of her journal. “I suppose we’ll need to pay her a visit, then. Is there anything else you can tell me? Other odd things going on?”

“Not that I can think of,” the old farmer sighed. “Those Redbrand boys have been troublesome, but they mostly stick to the Sleeping Giant.”

“Ah yes, the infamous Redbrands,” Rose drawled. She had been excited upon hearing the name when Linene first brought them up, but upon referencing her books on the historical factions of Faerun and discovering that she had mistaken them for the Red Wizards of Thay, she quickly lost interest. “We’ll be looking into that. I’d expect Sonny probably wants to punch their leader in the nose, or some other boyish nonsense.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that, miss.” Narth’s face darkened. “They may be common thugs, but there’s a whole mess of ‘em. I’d hate to see you and your friends get hurt.”

“That’s very kind of you, I’ll try to keep that in mind.” Rose said, finishing the rest of her drink. “On an unrelated note, you wouldn’t happen to know any magic spells, would you?”

“Magic spells?” the old man laughed. “No, I can’t say I do.”

“That’s too bad.” Rose said, snapping her journal shut. “Well, that’s all I need for now. Ta-ta!” And with that, the young witch turned and traipsed back to the bar, leaving the old farmer to scratch his head in confusion.

Chapter 3.6: The Stonehill Inn (Sonny)

Sonny stood with his back to the bar, looking intermittently between Rose and Viola, as if expecting either of them to be attacked at any moment. He had no reason to distrust the townsfolk of Phandalin, nor did he think the girls were incapable of protecting themselves, but hearing about the Redbrands had Sonny's hackles raised, putting him on a high alert that ill-suited the relaxed environment of the tavern.

“Excuse me, sir,” a voice called from behind the bar. Sonny turned around to find a middle-aged woman smiling at him. “Well, aren't you handsome,” she said, giving him a once over. “Is there anything I can get for you to drink, hun?”

“Oh, um, no thank you, miss.” Sonny stammered. He began to stand from his stool, but the woman laughed, “‘Miss!’ Well, isn't that something? Honey, I haven't been a ‘miss’ since before you were born, but thank you!”

“Don't mention it.” Sonny flushed. This time he did stand up, but the woman continued, and politeness dictated that he sit once more. 

“I have to say,” she mused, while polishing a tankard, “we don't usually see such colorful strangers around here- not even when word of the mine first got out. What brings you all to Phandalin?”

“We're friends with Gundren, and we did some work for Barthen's and the Lionshield Coster.” Sonny replied, tapping his foot against the bar stool.

“Oh, you're the ones who helped Linene!” she exclaimed. “She told me about you- how you got her goods back, and even delivered them. That was right kind of you.” 

This pattern continued for several minutes. The young warrior wanted to keep an eye on his friends, but each time he began to turn, the barmaid threw in another conversational barb to keep him hooked in. It reminded him of when his relatives would come to visit, and spend hours on the front porch cycling through goodbyes before finally leaving. Sonny knew it was rude to think this way, but even for the most adept of wordsmiths, the extended goodbye is a deadly trap. After his sixth failed escape attempt, Sonny sighed and resigned himself to his fate.

“Adventuring seems so dangerous.” Elsa said as she filled a tankard with ale. “I don't know how you all do it.”

“It's not so bad,” Sonny replied. “Sure it gets scary sometimes, but it helps to have folks at your back you can trust.”

“That’s sweet,” Elsa smiled. “I remember Daran saying something similar when he first came to town.”

“Daran?” 

“Daran Edermath,” Elsa explained, “half-elven fella, owns the orchard up the way. He used to be an adventurer too, before he retired.”

“And he picked an orchard,” Sonny smiled to himself, “that’s nice. I’ll have to chat with him some time- maybe get some farming tips.”

“Farming tips? Do you grow much out on the road?” Elsa asked, confused.

“Oh, I’m just traveling with these folks temporarily. Once I settle up here, I’ll be going back home to Goldenfields. My ma and pa have a farm there.” Sonny replied.

“That’s too bad.” The bar maid said as she stowed the clean tankards.

“What do you mean?” Sonny frowned.

“You seem to care an awful lot about these folks, what with how you keep trying to watch them,” Elsa grinned as Sonny’s face flushed with embarrassment. “It’s a shame you’ll be leaving them behind.”

Sonny turned in earnest to look at his new friends. At Viola, chatting with a woman in an intricate dress, at Peri, laughing with a woman and her young son. At Verne, calmly trading stories with Sildar, and at Rose, who met Sonny’s gaze with a teasing roll of her eyes.

“Yeah,” the young warrior replied as he turned back around in his seat. “I guess it is a shame. But I know where I belong. My family needs me.”

“Family is what you make of it, kiddo.” The barmaid smiled. “Speaking of which, I actually have a daughter who’s around your age who I think you would be-”

Sonny shot up from his stool, his face beet-red. Growing up in a religious farming community, he knew well where this conversational path led, and it was not a destination he sought to return to. In his panic, all he could think to say was, “I need a bath,” as he pushed off from the bar and ran up the stairs as fast as his legs would take him.

Chapter 3.7: The Stonehill Inn (Verne)

Verne watched as Sonny sprinted across the bar and up the stairs, leaving the poor barmaid blinking in disbelief. Sildar, who had been watching the same scene play out, slapped his hand on the table as he laughed. “Guess the lad’s not much of a charmer, eh?” the veteran nudged the elf in the ribs. Verne sighed as he lifted his glass, “In all my years, I have never met someone so unphased by bodily harm, yet so petrified of casual conversation.” he said, before taking a long sip of his cider.

“He reminds me of my son, actually.” Sildar said, cupping his ale with both hands.

“I didn’t realize you were a father, my friend,” Verne replied. “Respectfully, you don’t seem the type.”

“Perceptive, if a bit cold,” Sildar sighed. “In truth, I’ve not been much of a father to him for most of his life. My work with the Lord’s Alliance kept me busy, and far from home. And when my marriage fell apart, so too did my relationship with Edwin.”

“There is always time,” Verne said, kindly but firmly.

“Easily said by one for whom years are but a pittance.” Sildar smiled sadly. “It is a shame that unlike gold, an abundance of time cannot be shared.”

“I stand by my answer.” Verne folded his hands in front of him.

“As you should,” Sildar held up his hands in mock surrender. “I pray you don't think less of me for it. If it helps matters, he and I have reconnected recently. In fact, once my business here in Phandalin is concluded, I plan to retire from the Lord's Alliance and travel across Faerun with him, to hopefully make up for lost time.”

“That should be nice,” Verne replied, taking up his drink once more.

“What about you?” Sildar asked, cocking an eyebrow. “With such strong opinions on the matter, I suppose you are a father as well?”

Verne stared into the golden liquid of his glass and his eyes took on a faraway look. “A lifetime ago, yes.” The elf tilted his glass back and finished his drink. “Unfortunately, it is as you say: my abundance of years cannot be shared. No matter how strong we get, or how desperately we wish it so, time is a beast that claims all travelers.”

“I’m sorry, my friend, I did not realize.” Sildar’s brow furrowed. “If there is anything I can do, just name it.”

“Go on the trip with your son.” Verne stated, his mouth a firm line.

The two men fell silent for a moment. Sildar gestured to Elsa behind the bar, who fetched the men another round of drinks. As they arrived, the old veteran asked, “Do you still plan to rescue Gundren from Cragmaw Castle?”

“Of course,” Verne replied. “We cannot give up if there is even a chance of his safe return.”

“I am glad to hear it.” Sildar replied. “The Rockseeker brothers will be instrumental in finding the lost mine.”

“You don’t strike me as one for magical history, my friend. What benefit would an old spell forge bring to Phandalin?” Verne asked.

“The spell forge, if it exists, is but a ribbon on top of what the mine provides,” Sildar replied. “The minerals and ores the mine produces can provide a much-needed resource for trade. With prosperity comes peace. That’s why the Lord’s Alliance has such a vested interest.”

“Which is why they initially sent your ally, Mr. Albrek, correct?” Verne stated.

Sildar’s face darkened. “Yes. I talked to some of the locals, who say Iarno disappeared two months ago, while exploring Tresendar Manor. He is a powerful mage, but with so much time passed without contact, I fear the worst. If you could keep watch for him, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“Of course, my friend.” the elf replied. “Did the locals mention anything else? We have the general location of the castle, but would appreciate more details, if available.”

“Not that I can think of,” Sildar stroked his chin. “I would suggest searching the area around the Triboar Trail for more raiding parties. Be careful though, there are whispers of orcish bands roving the east end of the trail.”

“We will keep that in mind, thank you.” Verne took up his cider and drank deeply. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe it is time I took my rest.”

“Of course,” Sildar stood and pushed in his stool. “Before you go though, I did have a question.”

“What is it?” Verne tilted his head, curious.

“Do you ever regret it? Having children in our line of work.”

Verne gave the old veteran a sad smile. “I was a father, a grandfather and a great-grandfather for years before I took up the bow,” he said. “And I will never regret a second of it.”

Chapter 3.8: The Stonehill Inn (Peri)

“-and then Lathander rose into the sky, and with a burst of light he drove the darkness away, restoring peace and prosperity to the land!” Peri leapt up onto their stool, gesticulating wildly with paws outstretched.

“Wow,” said Pip, the wide-eyed son of Toblen Stonehill, “did all that stuff really happen?”

“Of course!” Peri squawked as they hopped down to the floor. Despite the boy being a paltry six years old, the tabaxi was just above eye level with him. “The Morninglord performs all kinds of miracles every day.”

“Like what?” The boy asked.

“Well,” Peri grinned, then struck a dramatic pose and lifted their paws to the ceiling, “every morning, Lathander uses his mighty strength to pull the sun into the sky.”

“Wow, that must be really heavy,” Pip said.

“I definitely couldn't do it.” Peri nodded.

At that moment, Pip's mother Trilena walked up and set a wide cup on the counter. “Here's that milk you asked for, Peri.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Stonehill!” The cleric reached up and grabbed the cup with both hands. They quietly recited a prayer thanking Lathander for the beverage before eagerly taking a drink. “I appreciate it- not many taverns have non-alcoholic options that aren't just water, so this is a real treat!”

“Of course, we like to serve our patrons however we can.” Trilena smiled.

“Peri, tell me another story from when you were on the road.” Pip demanded, tugging on the cleric's sleeve.

“Pip, don't be rude.” His mother scolded.

The young boy pouted, but let go of the sleeve. Peri laughed and said, “Don't worry, Pip, I have just the story: one time, we were exploring a dark cave. My friend Greenie had gone ahead to check for monsters, but he came running back around the corner with a water dragon chasing after him!”

“Whoa, a water dragon?!”

“Yeah- a dragon entirely made of water.” Peri grinned. “It came splashing down the tunnel, opening its mouth and letting loose a mighty roar.” The tabaxi let out a high-pitched yowl for dramatic effect before they continued, “the dragon opened its mouth and snapped me up in its mighty jaws.” The cleric fell to the floor, clutching their chest with one hand and reaching for the ceiling with the other.

“Noooo!” yelled Pip, whose eyes widened in terror. “What did you do then?”

“Well,” Peri said as they hopped up to their feet, “I pulled out my mighty mace and I started swinging: whack, whack until I smashed up the dragon from the inside. With its guts all bruised up, my friend Sonny was able to swoop in and deliver the final blow, chopping the dragon's head clean off.”

“Wow!” Pip's jaw slacked, star-struck. “What did you do then? How did you get out of the dragon?”

“What do you mean?” Peri asked. “Sonny cut its head off, so I just walked out of it.”

“Ohhh, that makes sense.” Pip nodded.

“Alright, Pip, I think that's enough excitement for one evening.” Trilena laughed. “Off to bed with you.”

“Aww, c'mon, mama,” the boy whined. “I didn't even get to tell Peri my story!”

“Your story?” Peri's ears perked up. “If you don't mind, Mrs. Stonehill, I'd like to hear what Pip has to say.”

Trilena smiled and said, “Well, alright then. But as soon as you finish, it's off to bed mister.”

Pip nodded, then squatted down in a stance not unlike the one Peri had assumed to tell their story. “Ok, so my friend Carp, from school? He was in the woods and he, um, he was playing with my other friend Feldin. And I don't think there were others there. But they were playing and they found a hole in the woods.”

“A hole? Like, in the ground?” Peri asked.

“Yeah, kinda.” Pip nodded. “There was a hole in the ground and then there was nothing, but then the hole kept going and then it went to a big house. And one of the red guys got mad because Carp wasn't supposed to be there.”

“The red guys?” Peri’s eyes narrowed. “Are these the same red guys that have been hurting the townspeople?”

Pip nodded, but before he could go any further, Trilena reached out and grabbed the boy's hand. “Sorry, sweetie, but we really do need to get you to bed.” She made a pointed look at Peri, who took her meaning.

“Yeah, that's probably a good idea, Pip. Heroes like you and me need our sleep so we can grow big and strong.” they said as they flexed their biceps.

Pip frowned, but nodded, before being led off to bed by Trilena. A few minutes later, she returned, with a concerned look on her face.

“I beg your pardon, Peri,” she said, leaning against the bar. “I don't mean to be rude, I just think there are some things Pip doesn't need to know about, and the Redbrands are one of them.”

“The danger is on your doorstep, Mrs. Stonehill,” the cleric replied. “I'll respect your wishes, but there's only so much you can hide from him. He's a curious kid, after all.”

“Yes, well curiosity killed the-” Trilena stopped herself, as the tabaxi tilted their head in obvious amusement.

“We've heard about the Redbrands all day, but they don't seem like much more than typical thugs.” Peri pondered aloud. “What's so dangerous about them?”

“At first, nothing.” Trilena replied. “The townsfolk who joined up with that outfit had been good-for-nothings well before they started dressing in red. But something has changed recently. There's more of them, and their actions seem more targeted: strong-arming businesses with access to supplies, rather than randomly lashing out at everyone. It's all very strange.”

“If you don't mind my asking, why don't you fight back? There are so many of you, surely you could take them down if you worked together.” Peri said.

“We have to think of our families, Peri.” Trilena insisted. “If we stand up to the Redbrands, we run the risk of them retaliating against our children and homes. I've seen what can happen if you overstep with the Redbrands, and Pip's safety is not something I'm willing to risk.”

“If you don't mind my asking, what do you mean ‘you've seen what can happen?” Peri asked.

Trilena’s face darkened, and she looked around, ensuring they were not being overheard. “A tenday ago, my friend Mirna Dendrar and her husband Thel got into an argument with them. I guess they had been leering at Mirna and he told them off. They got into a fight, and they murdered Thel- right in the town square. They grabbed his body and made off with it to their hideout.”

“That’s terrible!” Peri gasped.

“That’s not all,” Trilena whispered, “now Mirna and her children have gone missing as well. I can’t say for certain, but I fear-” she cut off, and took a deep breath, her eyes welling with tears.

Peri gently cupped her hand with both of their paws and said, “It’s ok, Mrs. Stonehill. My friends and I will do everything in our power to get the Dendrars home safely.”

Trilena nodded, too choked with emotion to reply. She wiped her eyes and squeezed Peri's paws in her hands. Suddenly, Peri's face took on a serious look and they said, “Now, Mrs. Stonehill, this will be diligent work. I'll need all my faculties at full power, and for that I'll need your help.”

Trilena started and said, “Yes, of course. What do you need?”

“More milk, please!” Peri said, with a toothy grin.

Chapter 3.9: The Stonehill Inn (Viola)

Viola sidled up to the nearest stool, hoisted her tankard onto the seat and then pulled herself up after it. Across from her was a thin woman in a vibrant dress, brows raised at the impromptu display of acrobatics.

“How's it going?” Viola asked, leaning across the table and extending a hand, “the name's Viola.”

“Freda,” the woman said, gently shaking the halfling's tiny hand.

“That's a nice dress. You buy it new?” Viola asked.

“Oh, this? I actually made it myself. I'm a weaver by trade.” Freda smiled.

“No kidding,” Viola tilted her head, looking over the dress. “Do people pay a lot for something like that?”

“It depends on what I'm making, but I get by. At least, I did, before-” Freda's eyes darted around the tavern, then shook her head in frustration, not finishing her thought.

Studying the weaver's face, Viola guessed, “Before the red guys started showing up?” 

Freda's eyes widened, but she nodded and whispered, “They've been a menace ever since they showed up here. They hassle every business owner in Phandalin. Well, everyone but Halia, I guess- they pretty well leave her alone.”

“Who's she?” Viola asked.

“Halia Thornton. She runs the Phandalin Miner's Exchange. Nice gal, but a bit scary if you get her angry. Probably why those thugs don't mess with her.”

“Sounds like my kinda lady,” Viola said, sipping her ale. “Maybe I ought to pay her a visit some time.”

“I wouldn't be surprised if she already knew you were here.” Freda laughed.

Viola frowned. “Why do you say that?”

“She has this way of…knowing things.” Freda replied. “Whenever I tell her news or share a story with her, it usually turns out she knows what happened better than I do. And respectfully, you and your friends are a brightly colored bunch. It's not every day a tabaxi rolls into town- that alone is going to get around.”

Viola looked over her shoulder to find Peri rolling on the ground reaching up at the ceiling while a little boy laughed and clapped his hands. The rogue turned back around and sighed, “I suppose they're not the most discreet bunch.”

“I like it,” Freda smiled. “Things tend to get boring out here. It's nice to have a splash of color every now and again.” she gestured broadly at her dress.

Viola looked at the garment and sighed inwardly. She'd never owned a dress before. She hadn't had much money for clothes growing up, and even if she did, they seemed impractical- not even any pockets! But still, there was something alluring about them, and whether it was by curiosity or genuine interest she wasn't sure. Her thoughts drifted to Rose and Sonny, and an uncomfortable twisting feeling churned in her stomach. She chanced a glance over her shoulder to find Rose striding across the bar and Sonny staring at her- as Viola so often found him doing. Viola suddenly found herself fighting the urge to throw her tankard across the room and scream. She drowned the thought with a long sip of ale and a sigh.

“Say, Freda,” she said after a long while. “How much would it cost for you to make one of those dresses for me?”

The weaver perked up, “Prices can vary, but usually for a tailored garment it costs fifteen gold pieces.”

Viola hissed, and was about to shut down the idea, but then a thought occurred to her. “What if we could come to an arrangement instead?” she asked.

The weaver furrowed her brow in confusion. “What kind of arrangement?”

“Well,” the halfling smiled, “What say my friends and I take care of your ‘Redbrand Problem?’”

Chapter 4.1: Redbrand Ruffians

Sonny splashed another cupful of water down his back as he sat in the Stonehill Inn's communal bath. He sighed, hoping that his labors would be fruitful, but accepting that he had no way of knowing for sure. Once he had removed the last of the visible dirt, he stood from the tub, padded over to a stack of towels and wrapped himself. The young warrior cracked open the door and peeked out from the bathroom, on the lookout for Elsa. Though he did feel bad about bolting from their conversation earlier, he was worried that she might try to pick up where they left off, and he wasn’t quite ready for that yet. I’ll apologize when I see her tomorrow, he thought. When the others are around. Noting that the coast was clear, he pushed open the door and quickly shuffled up the stairs to his room, where he was surprised to find the rest of his party.

“What are y’all doing in here?!” Sonny shouted, turning to face the door. “Can’t a fella get some privacy?”

“My apologies, Sonny,” Verne replied. “But something urgent has come to our attention.”

“And it couldn’t wait until I put some britches on?” Sonny grumbled.

“Don’t worry, Sonny.” Peri smiled. “It’s nothing we haven’t seen before.”

“Speak for yourself,” Viola muttered, staring at Sonny’s back. “It’s like a boulder sprouted arms.”

“Viola.” Verne gave the halfling a stern look.

“What? It’s a compliment. I’m saying he’s really muscly. It makes me feel safe-” the rogue’s face flushed suddenly and she said, “cause, y’know, the bad guys will want to hit him first.”

“Huh?” Sonny turned over his shoulder.

“Nothing, hayseed.” Viola growled. “Put your stupid pants on already.”

“Is he still naked?” Rose asked, her face buried in a large book.

Sonny quickly got dressed as Peri recounted what they'd heard from Trilena Stonehill. The young warrior's frown deepened with each detail, and once the cleric had finished their story, Sonny strode across the room and snatched up his sword.

“Sonny, please don't do anything rash.” Verne warned, gently but firmly. The elf moved to the front of the room, leaning his back against the closed door.

“How can y’all be so calm about this?” The fighter yelled. “Those kids could be hurt, or worse! We have to rescue them.”

“And we will, Sonny,” Rose chided. “But first we need to come up with a plan.”

“Here's a plan: we go to Tresendar Manor, bash the Redbrands heads in and get those kids and their mom home.” Sonny said with more force than he meant to. Rose's eyes widened with a mix of surprise and hurt. Sonny's face softened, and he opened his mouth to apologize, but suddenly they heard three sharp raps at the door.

Verne stepped away from and turned toward the door. “Can I help you?” The elf called out, ears perked. There was a moment of silence before a woman's voice, deep and rich, said, “A flock plots in the nest, but the cats are hungry.”

Most of the party looked at each other in confusion at this seemingly nonsensical word soup, but Viola leaned forward on the bed, eyes narrowed and replied, “The cats may hunger but the birds can fly. Is there a gardener?”

“What on earth are you-” Rose was cut off by a raised hand from the rogue.

“No gardener here.” The voice replied. “Just a sparrow on a branch.”

“Open the door, Verne.” Viola smiled confidently.

The ranger obliged and opened the door to reveal a dark haired woman in fur-lined leather armor beneath a black cloak. “Good evening,” she said, turning to the elf, “you must be Verne. Along with Rose, Peri, Viola and Sonny. My name is Halia. May I come in?”

“Of course,” Viola replied, ignoring the suspicious looks of the others. The halfling hopped down from the bed and extended a hand in greeting. “Miss Thornton, was it?”

The mysterious woman raised an eyebrow, but accepted the handshake nonetheless. “I won't take up too much of your time,” she said, drawing her cloak around her. “I have a job for you.”

“I'm sorry ma'am, but it'll have to wait.” Sonny asserted. “There are other folks who need our help right now, and I aim to give it.”

“The job I have concerns the Dendrars as well, Mr. Fowler.” Halia replied coolly.

Sonny's eyes widened in surprise and he took a step back.

“Fowler?” Peri tilted their head in amusement. “‘Sonny Fowler’? Your name is basically ‘sunflower,’ ha!”

Sonny frowned, but didn't respond. Halia continued, “The Redbrands have been causing trouble around town for far too long and it's high time someone stopped them. I believe your team can do so.”

“Sounds good, let's do it.” Sonny said, picking up his shield from the floor.

“Hold on a minute!” Rose shouted. “There's still a lot we don't know about the Redbrands. I'm not rushing into a fight that I don't know anything about.”

Sonny seemed about to argue, but Halia held up her hand. “The Redbrands frequent a local taphouse called the Sleeping Giant, their base is under Tresendar Manor in which they have a force of around ten men led by one the outlaws call ‘Glasstaff’ and my sources say they have a goblin under their employ. One who may be able to aid you in the location of Cragmaw Castle.”

“That's very thorough information.” Verne noted. “Perhaps too thorough. Please take no offense, but understand that having someone come in with knowledge of not only us, but a detailed account of our enemies makes me uneasy.”

“As the guild master of the miner's exchange, I hear a lot,” Halia responded. “Whether it's travelers with stories or townsfolk digging up something they shouldn't have, they all eventually come to me with what they know.”

“Makes sense.” Viola stated, folding her arms. “So what's the job? I get that you want us to “deal with” the Redbrands, but what specifically do you want us to do?”

“Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to infiltrate Tresendar Manor and neutralize their leader, Glasstaff. Additionally, I believe that Glasstaff has been working with an outside actor, so I want any correspondence you can find.” Halia replied.

“What's in it for us if we do it?” Viola's eyes glittered greedily.

“100 gold pieces for services rendered. ” Halia stated.

For a moment, the halfling's jaw dropped and her eyes widened, but she quickly shook her head and regained her composure. “Your terms are acceptable,” she said, feigning disinterest. The halfling held out her hand once more and the two women shook in agreement.

“Now hold on a moment,” Rose huffed. “Last I checked there were five people in this group, and you don't speak for all of us. In case you can't do the math, they outnumber us two to one- how are we supposed to fight them all?”

“The same way we fought the goblins,” Sonny replied, strapping on his armor.

“That's different,” Rose insisted. “The goblins weren't all in the same building- they were spaced out throughout a cavern.”

“Then perhaps we fight the Redbrands the same way.” Verne replied.

“What, take them into a cave?” Peri tilted their head in confusion.

“No, my friend,” the elf smiled. “I am suggesting we split their forces. Miss Thornton mentioned that the Redbrands frequent the Sleeping Giant tap house. But it is unlikely that all ten of them would be out at the same time. I suggest we apprehend those that are at the tavern, then deal with the others separately.”

“Not a bad idea.” Viola said, adjusting the dagger at her hip. “Plus, we can question the ones we fight at the tavern to find out if there's anything else they can tell us about this Glasstaff guy. Would that ease your troubled mind, princess?”

Rose scowled at the rogue. “Fine,” she grumbled, “it seems like I've been out-voted. But I still think this is a bad idea.”

“I appreciate your cooperation.” Halia pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders and turned to leave.

“Enough to pay half up front?” Viola grinned.

The guild master looked down at the rogue with a grim smile, “I like your style, kid. But don't push it.” She strode out of the room, and with a swish of her cloak, disappeared.

“It appears our course is set.” Verne stated, slinging his bow over his shoulder. “Shall we depart?”

Sonny, Peri and Viola nodded, and though Rose grumbled, the witch joined them as they descended the steps and walked out into the night.

Chapter 4.2: The Sleeping Giant Taproom

The Sleeping Giant was a ramshackle taproom at the east end of town. Grimy wooden boards riddled with cracks and gaps wrapped around the building, doing little to hide the obvious and extensive damage done to the walls. The roof was painted black, and extended out into an eave that hung over a wooden porch. Lingering on the porch were four men wearing grimy scarlet cloaks, perched on empty barrels or leaning against the wall. As the party approached, the four ruffians looked at each other and sneered.

The largest of the four stood up and sidled to the front of the porch before spitting on the ground. "Well, well," he snarled, "Here's a whole pack of little puppies. What do you want, puppies? Come here to bark at us?"

In truth, the insult hadn't been all that potent. On any other day, the party likely would have ignored the ruffians and gone about their business. But as it turns out, even the kindest of souls have a breaking point, and the Redbrands had just found it. With a pounding of iron greaves on cobblestone and a flash of straw-colored hair, Sonny dashed up to the porch, smashing his forehead into the nose of the nearest Redbrand. There was a moment of shock as the big man staggered back, blood pouring down his face, before his allies leaped up from their seats and rushed the young fighter, blades drawn.

The Redbrand who had been hit, bleeding and enraged, swung his short sword twice at Sonny. The first shot nicked the fighter's arm, but did little damage. Sonny raised his shield, easily deflecting the following attack.

Peri, seeing their friend in danger, raised their holy symbol and uttered a quick prayer, sending a pulse of golden light that imbued Sonny, Verne and Viola with the power of Lathander's blessing.

A second Redbrand ran up, slashing wildly. Though Sonny was able to avoid the first swing with a quick sidestep, the backswing of the second hit caught him across his leg, though the wound was thankfully shallow.

Rose stepped forward, once again drawing out her component pouch and withdrawing a handful of rose petals. She recited the incantation, and the petals spiraled into the air with wisps of pink arcane energy. The two ruffians who had already attacked Sonny lurched forward, their limbs slack and their eyelids heavy with sleep.

Next, Verne drew his bow, taking aim at the Redbrand who stood to the left of the fray. The ranger's eyes narrowed, and with a focusing of his primal magics, he marked the man. The elf let the arrow fly, but the ruffian proved more agile than expected. The arrow whizzed past his ear, embedding itself in the wooden porch post with a reverberating thud.

Viola, seeing Verne take the wider approach, opted for the other side, running up with blades drawn and slashing out at the nearest ruffian. With a yelp, the ruffian turned his attention away from Sonny and toward the small, dangerous woman with the rapidly spinning blades. The halfling feinted with her short sword before swinging a low arc with her scimitar, drawing a deep gash in the ruffian's shin.

The third Redbrand, after avoiding Verne's attack, joined his companions in attacking Sonny. Swinging at his left side, he managed to clip Sonny's shoulder, but the fighter was able to block the second stroke with a well-placed shield before he, surrounded by Redbrands and properly enraged, smashed the hilt of his sword into the back of a ruffian's head, sending him toppling to the ground. Then, maintaining momentum, he swung his sword in a wide arc, slashing across the chest of the one who'd insulted them before, sending the brute gasping to the ground in a spray of blood.

With the tide of battle shifting in their favor, Peri opted for a more offensive approach. They let loose a burst of sacred flame, but the remaining Redbrand proved once again to be too agile. Rose let loose a fire bolt, but the ruffian ducked beneath it as well, his eyes relieved. This relief didn't last long, however, as a well placed arrow from Verne and a flash of Viola's blades brought the battle to a swift end.

Chapter 4.3: Interrogation

The party regrouped, breathing heavily. “Are you guys alright?” Sonny asked, turning to face the others.

“Nevermind us, what about you?” Peri yowled. “They hit you like six times!”

“Nah, it was more like two and a half, three tops.” Sonny replied, looking over the cuts he'd received.

“That's not the point,” Rose sighed. “You could have been hurt, you idiot. Don't just rush in like that.”

Sonny opened his mouth to argue, but thought better of it. “I'm sorry if I worried y'all,” he apologized, “I can't promise I won't do it again, but I'll make sure to give you some warning next time.”

“See that you do.” Verne smiled grimly. “In the meantime, we have other business to attend to.” The elf pointed to the Redbrand that Rose had put to sleep, who was now snoring loudly on the porch.

“How do we want to do this?” Peri asked. “Beat him up till he tells us what we wanna know?”

“Surely not,” Rose balked. “Peri, I'm surprised a man of the cloth would suggest such a thing.”

“Well, I'm not really a ‘man,’ so it's ok.” Peri shrugged.

“That's not what I- okay,” Rose sighed. “Can we at least try to talk to him first? He can't very well tell us about his master with no teeth.”

“Noted,” Viola smirked as she cracked her knuckles. The rogue drew a rope from her pack and quickly tied the man's hands and feet together. Once they were securely bound, she pulled out a small bell and rang it under the ruffian's nose. The man snorted and his eyes slowly fluttered open.

“Wuzzat…” he grumbled, blinking away the enchanted drowsiness.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Viola beamed in a drippingly sweet voice. “Are you ready to spill your guts like a good little boy?”

The ruffian, slowly coming to his senses, looked around at his captors, stopping with a sudden jolt when he got to Sonny. His eyes flew the rest of the way open and he struggled like mad to get away from the straw-haired youth.

“Hey now, hey!” Viola shouted. “Where do you think you're going?”

“Get him away!” The ruffian shouted as he pushed across the ground with his feet. “Don't let that lunatic near me!”

Viola turned to Sonny with a thoughtful expression. “Verne, take this please,” the rogue tossed her end of the rope to Verne, “Sonny, conference.” She led the fighter a few steps away so they were out of earshot. Once she was confident they wouldn't be heard, she said, “Change of plans. You're helping with the interrogation and you're ‘bad cop.’”

“What?” Sonny frowned. “I've never interrogated anybody before.”

“No better time to learn,” the rogue grinned. “C'mon, hayseed, the guy’s already scared of you. All you have to do is play into that and he'll tell us whatever we want to know.”

“I dunno,” Sonny looked over at the ruffian. “That’s more your thing, y’know? I’m not much of a talker.”

“Well, now it can be our thing, ok?” Viola sighed. “Besides, I like how you talk. So get going, and calm down, man!” as she said her last line, the rogue threw herself to the ground about a foot away. Sonny, the rest of the party and especially the Redbrand all widened their eyes in surprise. Sonny looked over to the rogue, who winked up from her position in the dirt. Sonny sighed, steeled his reserve, then strode confidently over to the ruffian and grabbed him by the front of his cloak.

“Alright, you,” he growled, “you’re gonna tell me everything you know about Gladslap or I’ll beat your face in!”

“Y-you mean Glasstaff?” the ruffian offered, shaking.

“Don’t correct me!” Sonny tightened his grip. “But yeah, him, thank you.”

“Well, he came to town about two months ago,” the ruffian explained, “we call him Glasstaff ‘cause he always carries this big glass staff around.”

“Is he a wizard?” Rose stepped up, excitedly.

“Yeah, I think so. He keeps weird bottles and books in his quarters back at the hideout.” the Redbrand replied.

“Do you know if he has any spell scrolls?” The witch asked, pulling out her journal.

Viola pushed past Rose, “Let's stay focused. I can only keep my friend here contained for so long, so you'd better get to talking. Does Glasstaff have any associates? Maybe some out of town correspondents?”

“Uh, yeah, I think.” The ruffian furrowed his brow trying to remember.

“You think, or you know?” Sonny shouted, picking the ruffian up and accidentally smacking his head against the bar wall. When the ruffian cried out in pain, Sonny slackened his grip, “Oh jeez, I'm sorry man, you're a lot lighter than I thought.”

“Huh?” The ruffian blinked in confusion.

“Uh, I said you're light! Tiny, like a baby bird! So unless you want me to crush your bones into powder, you better tell us the name right now!” Sonny lifted the ruffian once more, pinning him against the wall.

“Spider!” The ruffian cried. “Glasstaff called him the Black Spider. Said he needed some guys to scare off people from the mine, and that he's sending some bugbears for extra muscle.”

“Bugbears, huh?” Viola clicked her tongue. “Got any other reinforcements?”

“Not really,” the Redbrand replied. “We got this tunnel that leads into a crevasse underneath the manor with this thing in it. Not sure what it even looks like, really. Every time I been down there I just seen this big, glowy green eye.”

Upon hearing this, Rose stiffened. She pulled a book from her pack and began frantically flipping pages until she reached the entry she was looking for. She turned the book around and extended it to the ruffian, “Is this the monster?” The ruffian quickly studied the page, then shook his head. “Nah, the thing down there's only got one eye, not a bunch.”

“Ok,” Rose sighed, tucking the book away.

“What is it?” Sonny asked over his shoulder.

“Another time, don't worry about it.” Rose shook her head.

“Fine,” Sonny turned his attention back to his terrified captive. “Any other friends we should be worried about?”

“I-I guess there are the skeletons around the old crypt. That's where we took those kids and that lady.” The ruffian stammered.

Upon mention of the Dendrars, Sonny gritted his teeth. He reared back and slammed his fist next to the Redbrands head, pulverizing the rotted wood and punching a hole straight through to the interior of the taphouse.

“Oy!” cried the dwarvish woman manning the bar. “Lay off the wall!”

“MIND YOUR DAMN BUSINESS, MA'AM!” Sonny shouted, slamming the ruffian against the wall for good measure.

The dwarf scowled and dropped her rag, raising her hands in mock surrender. Sonny turned back to the ruffian, who now fully trembled in fear. “Anything else?” The young warrior growled, pressing his knuckles into the Redbrands collarbone. “N-no, that's all I know, I swear.” he winced.

“Good,” Sonny growled. “Because I've got something for you.” The fighter punched the Redbrand in the nose with a loud crack, rebounding his head off the wall behind him. The ruffian slumped to the ground, unconscious.

The party looked at Sonny, unsure of what to say. While they'd seen him fight in the past, it had always been in self defense, and it had never been so personal before. They were unsure if this experience would change their friend- make him colder, or harsher.

“Are we done here?” Sonny said suddenly, startling the others.

“Yes, I believe so,” Verne replied. “On to Tresendar Manor.”

“Alright,” the warrior said. “But first, I've gotta do something.” He turned and walked into the taphouse. The others looked at each other, confused and a little concerned when they suddenly heard:

“-sorry, ma'am, I promise I didn't mean it, my friends and I were interrogating that guy and I had to be the bad cop, and I'm never the bad cop, and I promise I'll be back tomorrow to fix the hole in your wall-”

From the outside of the taphouse, the others laughed, relieved that some things never change.

Chapter 5.1: Tresendar Manor

Tresendar Manor stood at the east edge of town on a low hillside amid woods and thickets. More a castle than a house, the immense building stood abandoned, with snaking vines and grasping weeds choking what little semblance of opulence remained. The party approached from the west, with Verne up ahead. They moved silently, not wanting to alert the Redbrands to their presence. Suddenly, Verne held up a hand and the group stopped. He signaled for Viola to come up and join him, and the rogue quickly obliged. He pointed out several sets of footprints that circled around the manor, diverting their path. Viola ran back to silently inform the others, who changed their course accordingly. They continued along until they reached a stone staircase just off the empty ruin of a large kitchen. At the bottom of the stairs was an unlocked door. Verne carefully opened the door, which opened onto a five-foot-wide landing fifteen feet above a large cellar, with stone steps descending to the floor in two short flights. Another door stood beneath the stairs to the north. A large stone cistern occupied the western part of the room, whose walls were lined with kegs and barrels.

"Looks like a dry storage," Sonny whispered, lifting the nearest barrel lid to reveal a bushel of overripe apples.

"Looks can be deceiving," Viola responded, probing the wall with her fingers. "I bet Glasstaff is keeping some stuff that not even the other Redbrands know about in here."

"How do you figure?" The fighter asked.

"Who would think to go snooping around in the food?" Viola shrugged. "It's what I would do, anyway."

"It figures," Rose sniffed. "Who better to catch a criminal than another criminal?"

Viola started towards the witch, but Verne stepped between the two of them and pointed a warning finger at each of them. "Now is not the time," the elf whispered. "Viola, I agree that we should search this area before we delve any deeper. Thank you for the suggestion." The halfling stuck her tongue out at the witch before walking back to the wall, searching once more for hidden objects.

The party moved silently through the cellar, but most came up empty-handed. Peri, however, who was investigating the cistern, noticed a rope fastened just beneath the surface of the water. The tabaxi hopped up to the edge of the cistern and padded over to the attachment point of the rope. They leaned over, trying their best to grab onto it, but just barely not being able to reach. Going on their toes, they extended their paw towards the rope, not noticing how far forward they were leaning until they fell into the water with a loud yowl and a splash.

"Dammit, cat, do you want everyone in the whole hideout to know we're here?" Viola hissed as Sonny rushed to the poor tabaxi's aid.

"Sorry," Peri sputtered as Sonny pulled them from the water. As the young warrior set them down, Peri turned over to reveal a brown satchel clutched tight to their chest. Before anyone could ask what it was, Verne shouted, "We are not alone." as three Redbrands came rushing into the room.

Verne, who had noticed the Redbrands entering through a door to the right of the cistern, reacted quickly. He extended his hand, his eyes flashing green, as grasping plants erupted through the stone floor, entangling the Redbrands legs and restraining them. The Redbrands pulled and hacked at the vines and weeds, two of them successfully freeing themselves, but one remaining bound. Taking advantage of the distraction, Sonny ran up and swung his sword at one of the newly-freed Redbrands, scoring a deep gash down his side. Viola ran to another, swinging both of her swords, but the ruffian parried one stroke and dodged the other. Peri, wanting to avoid accidentally hitting Sonny or Viola while they were entangled with their combatants, shifted their attention to the ruffian who was still bound. They let loose a burst of sacred flame, which met its target. The ruffian gritted their teeth and glared at the cleric, straining like mad against the vines while the radiant flames licked around him. Rose followed suit with a fire bolt, but had similar results as the man thrashed, now even angrier, to get at the two mages. 

Verne drew his bow, taking aim at the ruffian embroiled in combat with Viola. His eyes flashed green once more as he marked his target before letting loose an arrow, which found purchase in the ruffian's shoulder. Sonny's opponent snarled, swiping at the young warrior with a short sword, but the blow he'd been dealt threw off his balance, and he winced in pain as he attempted to swing again. Viola's opponent didn't fare much better, unable to land a single blow on the agile rogue. And the Redbrand in the vines, while properly enraged by Peri and Rose's onslaught, was unable to break free of his bindings. 

Sonny pressed his advantage, batting away his opponent's sword with his shield before plunging his own into the ruffian's chest. Viola did much the same, ducking beneath a sword swipe before rising up and slashing across her opponent's waist with both blades, spilling a pool of blood to the stone floor. Peri and Rose, focusing their magics together, dispatched their foe in a burst of sacred and arcane fire, the last embers of which dissipated along with Verne's vines. The party regrouped, and was relieved to find that they had suffered no injuries.

“Guess we're gettin’ better at this.” Sonny huffed, wiping the blood from his sword before sheathing it.

“Don't jinx it, farm boy.” Rose sighed, looking at their fallen enemies. “We still have three more of them to deal with, including Glasstaff himself. Then there's the bugbears, the skeletons, not to mention whatever that thing is in the crevasse…”

“A regular ray of sunshine, this one.” Viola rolled her eyes.

“I'm just saying we shouldn't get too comfortable.” Rose frowned.

“Hey guys?” Peri called from over by the cistern. They were once again holding the brown satchel they'd retrieved from the water.

“What have you found, Peri?” Verne asked, eyes trained on the other doors.

“Some goodies,” the tabaxi replied, fishing around in the bag. They pulled out two bottles, one was the tell-tale bright red of a potion of healing, while the other was a light purple color. Rose delicately took the bottle from Peri's hand and held it up to the light. There was no label on it, so she swirled it, removed the topper and took a sniff.

“Mm,” she mused. “Smells like gum arabic. I'd wager this is a potion of invisibility.”

“I'll take that, thank you!” Viola said as she plucked the bottle from Rose's hand.

“Hey!” Rose said. “Why should you get to take it?”

“Allocation of resources, princess.” The rogue grinned. “Doesn't it make sense for the person who does the most sneaking around to get the potion that helps them do it better?”

“Shouldn't the person naturally predisposed to sneakiness not need magical enhancement?” Rose argued.

“It can't hurt to have a little help.” Viola said. “Besides, you're already magic. Let us ‘common folk’ have a chance to feel special, huh?”

“Fine,” Rose sighed. “Not like I can copy a potion into my spell book anyway.” 

“Glad we reached an understanding,” Viola sneered as she turned to Verne. “See, we're capable of diplomacy.”

“Is that what that was?” Verne shook his head in frustration.

“There's more stuff, you guys.” Peri huffed, clearly annoyed at being ignored. The tabaxi withdrew a pouch containing fifty gold pieces and a set of plain clothes sized for a human male.

“What a weird bag,” Peri turned it upside down and shook it, hoping something else might fall out. “Two potions, some gold and some clothes?”

“Seems like a boogie bag to me.” Viola folded her arms.

“What's that?” Peri tilted their head curiously.

“It's a bag you throw together in case you need to skip town,” Viola explained. “Like if someone's coming after you, or you just need to disappear for a while.”

“And he didn't put any snacks in here? What an idiot.” Peri said, tossing the satchel aside.

“You're not wrong,” she laughed. “So what next? We've searched every inch of this place, so do we press on to the next room?”

“Actually, I think I may have found something.” Rose walked over to the southwestern corner of the room and pointed to a discoloration in the wall. Closer observation revealed a secret door that led to a long, dark passage.

“Fascinating,” Verne said as he looked down the hall. Through the darkness, he could see that the passage extended a ways before making a sharp turn, past which he couldn't see.

“This passage probably leads to Glasstaffs chambers.” Viola offered.

“Should we follow it, then?” Peri asked.

“The priority should be to find the Dendrars first.” Sonny replied

“Maybe Glasstaff is keeping them in his room.” the cleric offered.

“No, that wouldn’t make sense.” Rose frowned. “If he’s a wizard, the last thing he wants is screaming children distracting him from his spell work. Chances are they’re on the opposite end of the manor, around that way.” She pointed to the door on the north end of the room.

“But if we take the long way around, he might find out we’re here and run away without a trace. We should go get him now.” Viola argued.

“I agree that expediency is important,” Verne replied, “but we must also consider his reinforcements. It would do us well to pare down his forces before we engage him directly.”

“Yeah, I guess a fight with bugbears, skeletons, the Redbrands, a wizard and a freaky eye monster might be a bit tricky.” The halfling murmured. “Alright, we’ll take the long way, but I’m gonna leave a little ‘present’ for Mr. Glasstaff to find, should he try to use his little escape route.” The rogue reached into her pack and withdrew a small bag that she overturned, spilling hundreds of tiny metal balls onto the floor surrounding the secret door.

“What’re these?” Peri asked, picking one up and turning it over in their paw.

“Ball bearings.” Viola smirked. “When Glasstaff comes running through here, he won’t be able to get his footing. And while he’s slipping around like an idiot, we can nail him.”

“Good thinking Viola,” Verne smiled, as the halfling puffed up with pride.

Taking care to avoid the freshly-laid trap, the party walked over to the door on the north end and entered, unsure of what they would find next.

Chapter 5.2: Viola Falls

The party entered a somber hallway of dusty flagstones. The walls were decorated with faux columns every ten feet, and the double-doors at the west end of the hall were sheathed in copper plate, now green with age. A relief carving of a mournful angel graced the door. Sonny moved to walk down the hallway, but Viola held up a hand to stop him. “Hold on,” she said, looking closely at the columns and the stones. “This seems too easy.” The halfling walked to the nearest column and investigated it, checking for any tripwires or alarms. When she had confirmed that the scene was safe from both of these, the party proceeded to walk down the hallway, but no sooner did they reach the midway point of the hall when they heard an ominous crackling sound. 

Before anyone could react, the floor collapsed, revealing a pit trap. Rose, Peri and Verne leaped forward, landing safely on the ledge of the pit, but Sonny and Viola weren’t so lucky. They dropped through the air, giving Sonny just enough time to grab Viola and turn, landing squarely on his back with the halfling on top of him.

Verne rushed to the ledge and called down, “Sonny, Viola! Are the two of you unharmed?”

“We’re alright,” Sonny called up. “Nothin’ bruised but my pride.”

“I will lower a rope to you, just hold on.” the elf replied, unfurling a rope from his pack.

At the bottom of the pit, Viola rolled off of Sonny’s chest to the ground and groaned, “Dammit, how did I not see that coming?”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Sonny replied, wincing as he sat up. “The rest of us didn’t see it either.”

“This sort of thing is what I’m supposed to be good at,” Viola sighed. She pulled out her potion of healing and removed the cork. “I’m sorry, you should take this.”

The fighter pushed the bottle back towards Viola. “I’ll be alright,” he grinned. “Gettin’ hurt is what I’m good at. Can’t have you taking my job now.”

Viola smiled and downed the potion, feeling her bruised bones healing and her pain ebbing away. “You didn’t need to do that, by the way. Catching me, I mean. To be honest, the chain mail didn’t exactly make for a soft landing.” she said, tossing the empty bottle aside.

“Yeah, sorry,” Sonny sighed. “I dunno why I did that. I guess I was just worried I might crush you if you landed first. I’m sure the last thing you want is me on top of you.”

Thankfully, at that moment Verne’s rope dropped down into the pit, distracting Sonny from Viola’s face which flashed a brilliant shade of crimson. The young warrior walked over to the rope and tugged twice to test its strength. “Need any help?” he offered.

The rogue’s face took on a thoughtful expression, “I guess I wouldn’t mind a lift.” She climbed onto Sonny’s back, linking her arms loosely around his neck. As the fighter climbed, Viola leaned her head against his back, silently hoping they didn’t reach the top any time soon.

Chapter 5.3: A Bone to Pick

Sonny pulled himself over the ledge, and Viola hopped down to the floor. Seeing that the fighter was hurt, Peri pulled out their holy symbol, “Hold still, this will only take a second.”

“Don’t go through the trouble on my account.” the fighter held up his hands. “I’m alright, really.”

The cleric frowned and began to lower their holy symbol when Rose stepped forward and said, “Gods above, will you stop it with the tough guy act? Peri, heal him.” The tabaxi looked between the two of them, confused.

“It’s really no trouble,” Sonny stood up and brushed off his greaves. “I feel fine. Peri should hold onto their spells in case one of you needs it later.”

“You’re bleeding from the ears, you moron!” Rose yelled, slapping him on the chest with her spellbook.

“Rose-” Verne started, but the witch turned on him and glared.

“No, he needs to hear this,” she huffed. “You spend so much time and energy worrying after us and throwing yourself in harm's way like some overbearing guard dog that none of us asked for! We’re adults, Sonny, not stupid little sheep that you have to kill yourself corralling all the time. Take. The damned. Healing.”

Sonny’s face fell as Peri quietly padded over, offering their holy symbol with an apologetic smile. The fighter said nothing, but nodded his assent. The cleric closed their eyes and recited a prayer, the holy symbol glowing bright blue as the fighter’s wounds mended themselves.

“Now was that so hard?” Rose sighed, gathering her book and walking down the hallway.

Verne placed his hand on the fighter’s shoulder and offered a gentle smile, “We’re glad the two of you are safe.” he said, gathering up his rope before following Rose to the door, Viola following soon after.

“For what it’s worth, I appreciate you looking out for me,” Peri said as they followed the others, “If not for you, I would have drowned- twice!”

Sonny managed a small smile, “We’ll getcha some swimming lessons once we sort out this Redbrand business.”

“Blech, no. I was just gonna avoid water for the rest of my life.” Peri replied. The two of them laughed, soon catching up with the rest of the group.

Walking through the next door, they entered a dusty crypt. There were three large stone sarcophagi, each with a rusty mail-clad skeleton propped against it. False columns along the wall were carved in the image of spreading oak trees. The double-doors in the southeast corner were sheathed in tarnished copper plate.

“Creepy,” Peri shuddered, staring at the skeletons. “Let’s get out of here, quick.”

“Not so fast,” Viola said, eyeing the sarcophagi. “There’s a chance Glasstaff hid something in those things. We should check them out.”

“Are you sure that's such a good idea?” Sonny looked at the skeletons suspiciously. “What if they’re trapped?”

“I’ll check it out and disarm them if I find anything, easy.” Viola said confidently.

“Yes, because that worked so well last time.” Rose drawled.

“Alright, that’s it.” Viola sprang at the witch, hands outstretched, but was quickly caught by Verne, who pulled her back.

“Now is not the time for this-” the elf said, struggling with the thrashing halfling. “Please just calm- I need you to- Marielle, behave!”

Viola stopped struggling and turned to the elf. The others looked at each other, equally confused. “What did you just call me?” the halfling asked.

Verne's face fell and his shoulders slumped as he said, “For a moment you reminded me of…I apologize for my outburst.”  It rarely occurred to the party that the elf was so much older than they were, but in that moment the weight of his many years became apparent. Viola righted herself, and with a concerned look at Verne, walked over to the sarcophagi. But as she approached, the skeletons began to shake, and with a rattling of bones, they sprang up and rushed the unsuspecting halfling.

Sonny, seeing the danger Viola was in, charged the closest skeleton, slashing at it with his sword and scoring a large gash across the aged armor. Verne, following close behind, provided cover fire for the fighter, piercing another of the skeletons' armor with a well-placed arrow.

The skeleton entangled with Sonny responded in kind with a blade of its own, barely missing the young warrior's side with a wide slash. Similarly, the skeleton that Verne had shot pulled out a short bow and returned fire, thankfully not being as accurate as the elf, who ducked harmlessly beneath the arrow. The third skeleton stabbed downward at Viola, striking a clean blow to the poor halfling's arm. Viola gritted her teeth, delivering a hampering blow to the skeletons knee with her short sword, which toppled it forward just far enough for her to decapitate it with a swing of her scimitar.

Seeing Sonny in danger, Peri yowled a battle cry, sending with it a burst of healing energy that rejuvenated the fighter before bounding into battle and smacking their mace into the skull of a skeleton with a resounding crack. Rose, without a clear shot amidst the chaos, let loose a fire bolt that missed all of the skeletons and piffed harmlessly off one of the stone sarcophagi. The mage cursed under her breath, adjusting her staff once more to try again.

Sonny, still locked in combat with one of the skeletons, swung again, aiming for the same spot. But the skeleton parried the blow, its emotionless face seeming to taunt him from the shadows. Verne loosed another shot as well, this time missing his target, sending the arrow splintering against the wall. The skeletons went back on the offensive, landing a shallow blow on Sonny and missing Verne once more. Viola slid behind Sonny, watching the skeleton’s feet carefully before stepping between the fighter's legs and thrusting out with her sword, piercing the breastplate of the skeleton and sending it crumbling to the ground. And with one enemy left, Peri gripped their mace tight. They ran over, and with a bounding leap and a yell of, “For the Dawnfather!” the cleric smashed the skeleton's skull to pieces.

“Nice one!” Sonny yelled, clapping the tabaxi on the shoulder. Peri beamed, flashing a toothy grin.

“Yeah, yeah, we're all very impressive.” Viola rolled her eyes. “Now can you help me with these stone lids?”

Sonny and Verne went to the three sarcophagi, lifting the lids so they could investigate their contents. Though they found no correspondence, they did find three platinum signet rings that Viola eagerly pocketed “for safekeeping,” to surprisingly little argument from Rose, who remained unusually quiet following the battle.

With that in order, they proceeded to the next room.

Chapter 5.4: Prison Break

Verne turned the knob of the door and opened it slowly, sensing that something was amiss. He gave the door a light push, allowing it to swing open the rest of the way as his hands drifted to the blades at his hip. The others, seeing this, readied their weapons as well. From their position, they could see that the room was long and portioned into three areas with iron bars walling off the north and south, but couldn't see past the partitions from their vantage point.

With a deep breath, Verne quickly stepped through, where he was ambushed by two Redbrands who had been lying in wait on either side of the door. Thankfully, the ranger was too quick for them, drawing his blades in a flash and goring the one to his right before strafing around the other side of him, narrowly ducking under the blade of his fellow. Peri drew out their holy symbol and attempted to aid the elf with a burst of sacred flame, but couldn't quite angle it right through the open door.

The Redbrand who Verne had struck closed in on the elf, slashing wildly with his shortsword and cutting deeply into Verne's bicep, eliciting a cry of pain. Hearing this, Sonny charged into the room, and with a heavy blow from his sword, quickly downed Verne's assailant. He turned to face the remaining Redbrand and raised his shield, ready to defend himself from an oncoming attack, but stopped fast in his tracks. Behind the bars, sitting in a pile of straw was a boy in a gray tunic with an iron collar clapped around his neck. He's not much older than Gil, Sonny thought, and a well of anger bubbled up inside him. With a burst of adrenaline, Sonny dashed towards the Redbrand, shoving him back with his shield before slashing him across the chest with his sword.

The Redbrand, bleeding and enraged, shoved Sonny back to give himself some space before thrusting his sword into the warrior's shoulder. The ruffian withdrew his blade and swung again, but the fighter was able to step back just in time to avoid getting hit again, his blood spattering to the floor. At that moment, Rose ran in and her eyes widened in horror at the blood on the ground. The young witch gritted her teeth and aimed her wand at the ruffian. With an arcane recitation, three pink darts exploded from the tip of the wand with a sound like a firework, streaking around Sonny and converging on the ruffian. All three of the magic missiles hit their target, bursting on contact and obliterating their foe.

With the threat quelled, Peri and Viola entered to assess the damage. Looking around the room, the southern end held two more prisoners, who revealed themselves to be Mirna Dendrar and her daughter Nilsa along with her son Nars, the boy in the northern cell. “Please, help us,” Mirna pleaded. Her hands were shaking as they clung to the bars and her eyes looked as though she'd been crying.

“Not to worry,” Viola flashed a mischievous smile, “I'll have you out of there in no time.” The halfling produced a rolled-up bundle of long, thin tools and implements. She lay them out flat and perused them, intermittently looking at the padlock to the cell. Eventually, Viola settled on a pair and, working with virtuosic grace and speed, the tumblers clicked into place in a matter of seconds, dropping the padlock to the floor with a heavy thud. 

Mirna and Nilsa rushed out of the cell, stooping down to embrace the halfling while thanking them all profusely.

“Hey, hey, you're crushing me, lemme go!” Viola pushed the two of them away, smiling in spite of herself. “Are you gonna let me free your son, or what?”

The two women let her go, and while Viola worked on freeing Nars, Verne approached Mirna. “I apologize for our late arrival. Do you require any medical attention?” 

Mirna shook her head and said, “No, they never physically harmed us. Said that they'd get a better price for us if we were ‘unspoiled.’”

“Price?” Rose asked, disgusted. “Those pigs were going to sell you?”

Mirna looked nervously at her two children. “They mentioned a band of orcs that would be passing through from the east. They said that my children and I would make for a good ‘peace offering’ to their chief.” she said, wringing her hands.

“Well you don't have to worry about that anymore,” Sonny stepped forward. “We intend to make sure that after tonight, nobody in Phandalin ever has to worry about the Redbrands again.”

Mirna took Sonny's hand and tried to thank him, but got too choked up with tears. Her children embraced her, thankful that their ordeal was nearly over. Verne placed a gentle hand on Mirna's shoulder, “If you are ready, I can escort you to the exit. I assure you, no more danger will befall you this night.”

Mirna nodded, “Thank you. If there is anything I can do to repay you, just name it.”

“Well what've ya got?” Viola asked.

“Viola,” Verne started, but Mirna smiled.

“It's alright,” she laughed. “I don't have anything on me now, but I may know where to find a valuable heirloom. When I was a girl, my family and I fled from the town of Thundertree after it was overrun by the undead. My family had an herb and alchemy shop, and I remember we hid an emerald necklace in a case beneath some storage shelves. I never dared to go back for it, but if you can brave the danger, its is yours.”

Viola's eyebrows raised, but before she could ask any questions, Verne said, “We have much to do tonight. Let us get you to safety. Sonny, if you don't mind?” 

“Sure,” the fighter followed to the door.

“The rest of you should get some rest,” Verne said, “We will be back shortly.”

And with that, Sonny and Verne led the Dendrars back the way they'd come, securing their safe passage into the night while Peri, Rose and Viola sat in the pen, enjoying their respite for however long it would last.

Chapter 5.5: Respite

Rose leaned against the stone wall and sank to the ground with a sigh. This venture had been far more taxing than she had anticipated, and she could feel that her magical reserves were dangerously depleted. The witch closed her eyes, taking deep breaths and trying her best to focus her arcane energies. Suddenly, a resounding 'clang' echoed through the room and Rose's eyes snapped open. Standing at the center of the room was Peri, sheepishly trying to sweep one of the padlocks into a nearby pile of hay.

"Stop fiddling with things, fuzzball!" Viola hissed. "Do you want us to be found out?"

"Sorry," Peri's ears turned down. "I'm just feeling a bit restless. Sonny and Verne have been gone for a while."

"I wouldn't worry about them," the halfling said. "Those two are tough- I'm sure they can handle anything those Redbrand goons throw at 'em."

"Yes, that just leaves the bugbears, which we know to be no trouble at all," Rose replied sarcastically, "and I'm sure the mysterious 'eye monster' will be delightful to come across."

Peri's shoulders slumped and Viola glared at the witch. "What the hell is your problem?"

"I just think it's irresponsible to pretend that everything is fine when we're clearly still in danger here. Sonny was still hurt when he left, even if he would never admit it." Rose huffed.

"So now you care?" Viola snarled.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Rose asked.

"Oh nothing, I always tell the people I care about that they're stupid and I never wanted them around." Viola rolled her eyes.

"I didn't say that...exactly," Rose looked away. "Sonny knew what I meant. You just don't understand our relationship."

"And what is that relationship exactly?" Viola asked.

"I fail to see how that's any of your business." Rose said, her face flushing. "Why do you care, anyway?"

Viola scowled and looked as though she was about to say something, but seemed to think better of it. "I don't," she said, turning to the door. "I'm going to scout ahead. Try not to attract any more attention."

Rose protested, but the rogue ignored her and was soon out of sight. "Dammit," Rose mumbled. "What is wrong with that girl?"

"To be fair, you aren't always the nicest to her." Peri offered, sitting down next to Rose on the floor.

"Not you too," Rose groaned. "Is it so much to ask for someone to be on my side today?"

"I am on your side, Rose. But that side should have Viola on it, too. For as often as we fight alongside each other, we should all be able to get along."

"It's not like I see her as an enemy," Rose frowned.

"You just don't trust her."

"Why should I? She's a thief." Rose jabbed at the door with her wand.

"Sure, but she's also a halfling, and a girl, and our friend, and-”

“Are you going somewhere with this?” Rose interrupted.

“I'm saying that people are more than just one thing.” Peri explained. “You're really smart, Rose, probably the smartest person I know. But sometimes when really smart people try to understand the world, they label things and sort them into little boxes to make sense of them. But people don't really work like that. People aren't like spells, Rose- you can't learn who they are just from their components.”

Rose blinked at the tabaxi in surprise. “That makes a lot of sense, actually.” she said ponderingly. “And for what it's worth, I think you're very wise. The wisest kitty I've ever met.”

“Well I'm more than just a kitty after all, I'm also-” they began.

“A priest? A warrior? A friend?” Rose offered with a smile.

“I was going to say ‘handsome,’ but I guess those work too,” Peri grinned. The witch scratched behind the tabaxi’s ears and the two laughed, forgetting for a moment the danger of their situation.

Out in the hallway, just out of sight, Viola leaned against the wall and sighed. She hadn't intended to listen in, and she felt silly for doing so, but she was worried that Rose might turn Peri against her somehow, which made her feel even sillier.

“Damn cat's too nice for their own good,” she grumbled as she walked down the hallway, keeping an eye out for enemies. In truth, Viola didn't know why Rose was such a thorn in her side. There were the comments, of course, but it was nothing the rogue hadn't heard before, in much nastier terms. So what was it about the witch that vexed her so? Ugh, no more thinking. Viola thought. Let's get to work.

Viola crept across the crypt, sticking tight to the wall and staying in the shadows. She felt her way to the door on the western end of the room and pressed her ear against it. When she heard nothing, she slowly opened it and stepped through into a short hallway that ended with a door on the right. Testing the knob, she found it to be locked. Never stopped me before, she smirked, plucking out her thieves’ tools. Picking the lock was child’s play, and Viola soon felt the tumblers fall in place with a satisfying clunk. 

Smiling to herself, the rogue carefully stowed her picks and peeked through the open door to find racks of weapons lining the walls. Spears, swords, crossbows and bolts all hung, meticulously organized, across from a rack of twelve dirty, red cloaks. Viola looked around the room, confirming she was alone before walking over to the rack, picking up each of the crossbows and feeling their weight in her hands. Once she’d found the best fit, she grabbed two cases of bolts and turned back to the entrance to report her findings to the others. As she stepped back into the hallway, she noticed a discoloration on the opposite wall. Walking over and probing with her fingers, she found a separation similar to the one Rose had found in the cellar. The door was too heavy for the halfling to open herself, but she’d found the path forward. Now all she needed to do was gather the others.

Back at the cellar, Verne watched as Sonny guided Mirna and her children to the treeline before sending them off and jogging back to the manor. “They can make it the rest of the way,” Sonny yawned. “Sorry, I'm a little tired. Past my bedtime I guess.”

“No need to apologize, my friend. You have undergone a great deal this night. It is only natural that it might catch up with you.” The elf stated.

“I'll be alright,” Sonny asserted. “Just need a minute to build back up, and I'll be good to go.” The fighter walked past the elf, carefully sidestepping around the ball bearings and heading for the door.

Verne walked over to one of the barrels, plucked out an apple and tossed it to the fighter, who caught it. “Are you sure it's alright to eat these?” Sonny asked.

“I do not believe our hosts will mind,” Verne gestured to the dead Redbrands whose bodies lay on the floor. Sonny averted his eyes and said, “I wish we had covered them up. At least, before we led the Dendrars through here.”

“I agree, it would have been more tactful.” Verne mused. “But it is difficult, in this harsh world of ours, to protect those in our care from that which would frighten or do harm. As I am sure you are well aware by now.”

“Are you gonna yell at me, too?” Sonny frowned.

“No, I am not.” The elf reassured the young warrior with a pat on the shoulder. “Though I do believe Rose's words, while not the kindest, did ring with some truth.”

“It's not like I think you guys can't handle things or that I have to “shepherd you,” I just don't want to see any of you get hurt. You're my friends.” Sonny insisted.

“I understand the sentiment, Sonny, but have you considered that we may feel the same way about you?” Verne offered.

The fighter bit into the apple, contemplating his answer while he chewed. “I guess I hadn't thought of it that way,” he finally responded. “And I do appreciate it, but while I've got all this armor and the shield, doesn't it make sense for me to be on the front lines, taking hits so y'all don't have to?”

“I suppose so,” Verne replied. “But the rest of us have armor as well, or magical means to defend ourselves.”

“Both in your and Peri's cases.” the fighter conceded.

“My point is, you must protect yourself first before attempting to assist others. No matter how strong you are, you cannot protect us if you fall in battle.” Verne stated firmly.

“Yeah, I understand.” Sonny replied.

Passing through the door, they reached the hallway with the pitfall trap. Earlier, they had lowered the Dendrars into and out of the pit by way of a fastened piton with a rope on each side. Now, they simply retrieved their climbing supplies and jumped across the ten foot gap.

“You know,” Verne said, breaking the silence, “you remind me a lot of my son, Luc.”

“Oh yeah?” the fighter replied, adjusting his pack. “What does he do?”

“Nothing much, I'm afraid,” Verne replied with a sad smile. “He passed some time ago.”

Sonny's face turned pale, “I-Im so sorry, Verne, I didn't know.”

“It's quite alright, my friend. It happened many years ago, likely before even your grandfather was born.” Verne said.

“Still, my condolences.” Sonny stated. “If you don't mind my asking, how did he pass?”

“Lying in his bed at home, surrounded by those who loved him.” Verne's eyes grew misty. “He lived a full life- 124 years of it. I regret that I was not able to impart more of my longevity to him, but I am happy for the love he was able to receive and share in his lifetime.”

“That does seem like a nice way to go,” Sonny mused. “seeing everyone you love while you get to reminisce about all the good times you shared one last time.”

“If I have my way Mr. Fowler,” Verne smiled, “I intend to make sure each of you has the opportunity to find out just how nice it is.”

Before Sonny could respond, Viola came bounding out of the shadows, a new crossbow bouncing at her hip. “Perfect timing,” the rogue said, beckoning them down the hall, “I've gotta show you guys something. The halfling led them down the hallway to where Peri and Rose were already standing. Viola pointed out the discoloration in the brick, and had Sonny pull the door open, with Rose, Peri and Verne readying their weapons in anticipation. But when the door opened and nobody walked out, the party shared a moment of relief. Though they were now rested, they were still in no hurry to find out just how strong the remaining Redbrand forces were. When the coast was deemed clear, they marched through, with Verne taking the lead, into the next room.

Chapter 5.6: The Nothic

The secret door opened to a space overlooking a large natural cavern that had been dressed with stone block walls and a flagstone floor. Several barrels were stored against the wall, along with a number of empty crates, straw for packing, hammers, pry bars, and nails. A quick investigation of the crates revealed no correspondence, but a plethora of beaver pelts that the Redbrands had intended to smuggle. Viola suggested stashing them to sell themselves, to a stern refusal from Verne.

The cavern continued for some distance to the south. A cold breeze filled the cavern, carrying with it the faint scent of decaying flesh. Several passages opened up off the larger cavern, and what looked like a deep crevasse in the floor. The crevasse divided the cavern, and was flanked by two rough stone columns that supported the twenty-foot-high ceiling. Two arched wooden bridges spanned the chasm. Wanting to avoid the crevasse, the party veered along the west end of the cavern, making for the nearest bridge. The bridges were made of wooden planks and had no rails. Sonny, as the heaviest of the group, gingerly took a few steps, testing the sturdiness of the planks. Once they had verified the strength, they went out one at a time, taking care to maintain their balance and not look over the edge. As they crossed, however, Peri, Sonny and Viola felt an odd sensation: a strange tingling in the back of their head accompanied by an eerie ringing sound. When they all reached the end of the bridge, Sonny said, "Do y'all hear that?" The fighter opened and shut his mouth in an attempt to pop his ears. "That ringing is driving me nuts."

"Oh, good, you hear it too. I thought I was just going deaf," Peri said.

"It is more likely in white cats," Rose stated.

"What?" Peri's eyes widened, terrified.

"Can we focus, please?" Viola frowned. "I can hear the ringing too, so it can't be a coincidence."

"Maybe it's the monster?" Sonny whispered.

Suddenly a scraping, clicking sound approached rapidly from the bottom of the crevasse, followed by a rumbling voice: "May-bee itsss thuh mon-sturr..."

The party scrambled to grab their weapons as a creature with a glowing green eye hopped from the crevasse, landing on all fours in a clattering of claw on stone. The creature's skin was blistered and pink, with several rust-colored spines jutting out of its back. It tilted its head back and forth, while its jaw chattered, creating a loud clacking sound. The party took several steps back, closing to tight ranks. The creature made no move to approach, instead leaning back on its hind legs and observing. After a moment, the creature clamped its jaw and the rumbling voice echoed once more, the party now realizing that it had been speaking directly into their minds.

"Wut arr yoo?" the creature tilted its head. "Yoo arr naht redd mann. Wizz-urd say Nothic can eet naht-redd-menn." The creature, apparently called ‘Nothic’ stepped forward with its gnarled forelegs and licked its chops with a sickening slurp. 

Sonny stepped forward, leveling his sword at the Nothic's neck. "Stay back!" the fighter shouted, ill-hiding the shake in his voice. 

The creature's voice chuckled in their minds, and said, "Yoo wud mur-durr Nothic? Wut wud siss-turr Day-zee say?"

Sonny's eyes widened and a look of absolute fury crossed the fighter's face, "How do you know that name? I swear if you've done anything to her, I'll-"

"Sonny," Rose interjected. "The creature can clearly read our thoughts. I'm sure your sister is fine."

"R-right," Sonny stammered, still looking unsure. The fighter kept his sword out, but slackened his grip somewhat.

The creature turned to Rose and sneered. "Klev-urr gurrl. Fig-yurred me outtt, eh? Wut see-kretts do yoo hav, Nothic wun-dersss? Your maynd iss...protekk-ted frum meee." The creature's head tilted to the opposite side, the horrible teeth chattering beginning again.

"Ugh, can we just kill this thing already?" Viola grimaced.

The creature snapped its head toward the rogue and its mouth pulled up in a horrifying smile. It said nothing, but suddenly the party's head was filled with the sound of pattering feet and high-pitched squeaks that grew gradually louder. The rogue's face grew ghastly pale and she put her hands over her ears, doing nothing to quell the noise in her mind until she shouted, "STOP IT!"

Peri rushed forward, standing between the halfling and the monster, "What are you doing to her? Quit it!"

"Kwitt?" the creature asked, mockingly. "Laykk how yoo kwitt your kwessst? Tooo biz-zee having funn, me thinksss. Nev-urr find Lath-ann-durr that wayy."

Peri sniffed, and before anyone could do anything to stop them they swung their mace, eyes welling with tears, at the Nothic's head.

The mace made solid contact with the beast's head, but the Nothic hardly reacted, its grating laughter echoing in the minds of the party.

Verne strafed to the right for a better angle, but as he pulled the bow string, the injury on his arm flared, causing him to skew the shot completely.

Rose moved to the left, taking aim with her wand before sending off a fire bolt that blasted the Nothic directly in the eye.

Enraged, the monster barreled toward the witch, jaws clacking like mad. Within moments, the beast was upon her, raking across her side and chest with its razor-sharp claws. Rose shrieked in pain, blood pouring from her wounds.

Sonny shouted and rushed the beast, slashing across its back and legs, splintering its spiny hide. The beast turned and let out a psychic shriek.

Viola rushed up behind the fighter, waiting for a proper opening, but the creature wasn't so easily taken. The rogue slashed out with her short sword, which the Nothic knocked aside with a thorny hand. Then with a pivot and a swing, she carved a deep gash in the monster's chest with her scimitar.

Peri, seeing Rose injured, drew their holy symbol and loudly recited a prayer, sending a pulse of healing energy that mended the witch's wounds. The cleric then aimed their holy symbol at the Nothic, letting loose a burst of sacred flame, but the monster ducked down, laying itself flat against the rock.

The Nothic leapt back up, sneering at the tabaxi with its horrific gnarled teeth, when all of a sudden, a twang of a bowstring put an end to its menace. Verne's arrow landed at the dead center of its brilliant green eye with a horrifying squelch. The Nothic let out one last psychic scream as it pitched forward, lying dead on the ground.

Chapter 5.7: The Burial of Thel Dendrar

The party stood victorious, looking down at the body of the Nothic. 

"Good riddance," Viola growled, scowling at the monster.

"Is everyone ok?" Sonny asked, looking around. "Rose, it looked like it got you pretty good, are you-" The fighter didn't get to finish his sentence, as Rose rushed over to him, pulling him into a tight hug. The witch didn't say anything, her body trembling violently.

"Are you hurt?" Verne asked, drawing his potion of healing from his pack. Rose turned and shook her head, wordlessly pointing to Peri and then to herself.

"I think she's in shock," Sonny said, placing his hand on her shoulder. "We should take a minute before we move on."

"Guys?" Peri called from the edge of the crevasse. "I think someone's down there."

Viola walked up next to the tabaxi and confirmed that there was indeed a humanoid shape amongst the rubble at the bottom of the crevasse.

"That could be another prisoner," Sonny said. "We should at least check it out."

Rose gripped the back of Sonny's shirt and shook her head, staring down at the crevasse with eyes wide. "It'll be alright, Rose," Sonny assured her gently. "You don't have to come if you don't want to. One of us can stay behind with you."

"I will ensure she is taken care of," Verne stated. "And I will keep watch over the rest of you from above. The darkness does not hamper my vision in the way it does for you, and I can assist from a distance should you face any danger." The elf gestured to his bow, now slung over his shoulder.

"Can't argue with that," Viola stated sharply. "C'mon folks, down to the depths we go."

Sonny gently extricated himself from Rose's grip, and the witch clenched and unclenched her jaw, as though she was struggling to speak. Verne removed his cloak and wrapped it around the witch's shoulders. He held up his palm, recited a string of words in elvish, and with a flash of green light, ten spherical red berries popped into the elf's hand. He handed one to each of the other party members and said, "These goodberries have restorative properties. If you feel yourself dwindling, eat one and be revitalized."

Peri, Sonny and Viola thanked Verne before carefully descending the twenty feet to the bottom of the crevasse. The base was unnaturally cold, and discarded bones and viscera were strewn everywhere. Atop a heap of broken and well-gnawed bones was a half-eaten corpse, the body Peri and Viola had seen from above.

"Oh, gods," Peri groaned. "This poor man..."

Sonny approached the body and turned it over, so the face was more clearly visible. The fighter's face darkened. "Hey guys. Does he look familiar to you?"

"He looks a lot like that Dendrar kid." Viola whispered, with a concerned look to the fighter.

"Nars," Sonny stated. "The boy's name is Nars. And this was his dad."

"Sonny, we already knew the Redbrands had killed Thel," Peri said gently.

"I know we heard that," Sonny grumbled. "Guess I just hoped Trilena was wrong. Like, maybe it looked worse than it was. But we can't leave him here."

"What are we gonna do, carry him out?" Viola asked.

"What else do you suggest?" Sonny asked.

"We could perform a burial," Peri offered.

"Hell of a place for it," Viola gestured broadly to the scattered bones.

"Places can be consecrated," Peri stated. "I've yet to find a darkness so deep that Lathander's light couldn't reach. Sonny, if you dig the grave, I'll get to work on the funeral rites." The cleric closed their eyes and knelt amidst the bones, pressing their paws together and reciting a prayer.

Sonny pulled a shovel from his pack and found the cleanest spot he could in the crevasse. He got to work digging a large hole, a task made thankfully easy by the loose dirt of the crevasse. Within a few minutes, he'd dug a hole of appropriate size and depth. Peri finished their prayer and approached the hole. "If you're ready, we can move on to the burial." they said gently. Sonny nodded wordlessly and moved over to Thel's body. He lifted the body and carried it over to the grave, where he lowered him down into the earth below.  As he began to drop the soil atop the body, Peri started praying aloud: "As the sun falls on this day, we mourn its passing. Yet are comforted by the knowledge that another dawn is coming. Much as Thel Dendrar lays to rest, we are hopeful that the sun will rise for his wife Mirna, for his daughter Nilsa, and for his son Nars. In Lathander's name, Amen."

Sonny finished the burial and packed the soil down. He placed a hand on Peri's shoulder, "That was beautiful. Thanks for doing that, buddy."

"Of course," Peri smiled sympathetically. "It's part of the job, after all."

"Hey, you two!" Viola called suddenly from a short distance away. "You might want to see this."

Sonny and Peri crossed to where the rogue stood and saw a large, wooden chest tucked into a hole in the ground. "Any chance you strapping fellas could help a girl out?" Viola batted her eyelashes. 

"Viola, now may not be the best time-" Peri began, but Sonny waved them down.

"Don't worry, pal," the fighter smiled. "May as well while we're here, right?"

“Love that attitude, hayseed,” Viola grinned. “Let’s get to pulling.”

Sonny squatted down, grasping both sides of the chest. He pressed up with his legs, and the chest popped out of the hole with surprising ease, unbalancing the fighter, who landed on his rear. The impact caused the lid of the chest to pop open slightly, and Viola scampered over and lifted it the rest of the way. “Wow Sonny, you gotta see this!” the rogue gasped. Sonny gently slid the chest off of his lap and onto the ground before standing and joining the others. 

In the chest was a mass of coins, five gemstones (malachite, according to Peri,) two potions of healing and a rolled up piece of parchment bound with a light blue ribbon. Sonny quickly picked up the scroll and looked it over. “Hey, do you think this is one of those spell scrolls that Rose has been looking for?” the fighter said, turning the parchment over in his hand. “Maybe,” Viola frowned. “Hey, I think maybe you missed something in the chest. Do you want to check again?”

Sonny looked at the rogue, confused, but turned back to the chest and noticed a metallic eagle extending out of the pile of coins. The fighter grasped the head of the bird and pulled, revealing it to be the hilt of an ornate longsword housed in a silver-chased scabbard.  Sonny drew the sword from the scabbard, revealing the name ‘Talon’ inscribed across the blade. 

“Wow, that looks like a cool sword.” Viola whistled. “You should definitely hang on to that.”

“Yeah,” Sonny said, marveling at the inscription and the crafted hilt, “maybe I should. What about the rest of it?”

“We should probably carry that up, too.” Viola replied. “And by ‘we’, I mostly mean you.”

“How generous of you,” the fighter shook his head, but grinned. He hoisted the chest, and with one last reverent nod to the Thel’s grave, Sonny began the arduous trek up the crevasse wall, with Peri and Viola following a short distance behind.

“You know,” Peri said, when Sonny was out of ear-shot, “I couldn’t help but notice that the chest opened pretty easily. Almost as if it had already been unlocked.”

Viola gasped in mock-scandalization, “Peri, are you accusing me of using a menial task and a shiny new sword to distract our friend from their depression? How very dare you.”

Peri laughed, “I’m proud of you, Viola. We’ll make a healer of you, yet.”

“Don’t count on it, fuzzface,” the rogue grinned. “That’s my one good deed for the year.”

The two laughed as they climbed out of the crevasse, leaving Thel Dendrar to his rest.