ADVENTURE LOG XXV

WHAT HAPPENS IN KAER MAGA

6th of Desnus 4708 Toil Day

Kaer Maga was already old before the Runelords came to power. The six-sided stone fortress- ruined on one corner of the ring by some massive incident thousands of years before- was more than half a mile across and packed with towers of various design. Thousands of races, beings, and entities lived within the anarchic melting pot. They saw creatures and cultures they’d never seen before walking shoulder-to-shoulder with the more familiar within the bustling marketplace where The Flowers now stood. The fouler smells of civilization were smothered by spices and perfumes wafting out of colourful tents lining the roads. The air was a cacophony of chatter, screams, solicitations, and music.

A goblin band passed by, all wearing windchimes and chanting in lovely harmony. They saw an expressionless man pass by in the opposite direction and sit at a dwarven jeweler’s table. The man did something to his wrist, causing his forearm to open like an intricate puzzle box, before the jeweler unrolled her tools and began making small adjustments to the complicated mechanics within. Creatures wearing fishbowl helmets full of water, an old man with a glowing sword walked with a tall furred man who wore a bandoleer of crossbow bolts and carrying a large crossbow, a centaur carrying a chicken in a robe, a man covered in glowing runes walking hand-in-hand with a drooling idiot next to an actual bear walking upright and wearing armor, and a trio of floating saucer-shaped beings with eyes on stalks were some of the more unusual inhabitants in their vicinity.

Three of their party were still greatly wounded, so they agreed finding healing should be their first concern. They made to take a step, but there was a sudden swirl of light around them. Their surroundings dimmed and were pulled strangely far away, leaving them in darkness facing the hovering spirit of Zellara. Her Harrow cards lifted themselves out of Calli’s pouch and drifted over to the fortune teller, who shuffled and spread them towards the party.

“Ladies first,” Travis offered.

Calli reached out her right hand, running along the cards until finally pulling one for herself. One by one, they made their choices, and when they read their cards they each had brief visions of something that might come to pass that the card could assist them with.

For Calli: The Beating. She saw a vision of two women wearing armor of the Grey Maidens facing her in combat. One was Cordita, the other she didn’t recognize. Zellara’s voice- layered with a sound like wind whistling through a window hole- warned it was a misaligned card for her, and that she needed to beware of the attacks that may come. Calli huffed, frustrated that every reading had included some dire prediction for her, specifically. Zellara softened the news by adding that the card indicated Calli had hidden strengths within her.

Gale held The Uprising. The image on the card was an angry crowd holding torches and pitchforks, upon the tongs of one hung a crown. He thought of Korvosa and felt it fitting. His vision was a tribal village under attack, with gargoyles in the air. Zellara said his card was never misaligned, there’d be an overwhelming groundswell of support that he’d be leading, and he’d tap into the card’s power should he be in the situation envisioned. All took this as a good sign.

Their sorcerer pulled The Keep. Zellara told Taylan that it was not misaligned, and it meant he was unshakable to threats. The party, Talyan included, all laughed at this. He had not been known overmuch for his bravery thus far. The vision came to him, like Calli’s, as two people facing him in battle. One wore Red Mantis armor, and he didn’t recognize the other at all.

Travis held The Cyclone. He saw a vision of a deep underground retreat, being menaced by multiple tentacles. The spirit warned it was slightly misaligned, but that he’d be renewed after a trial. Byron hooked a thumb at Nightingale and made a joke about Gale’s Black Tentacles spell being turned on the party.

Zellara turned to Byron and with a gesture his card yanked from his hand. “The Paladin,” she explained, was slightly misaligned with him. Unlike Taylan’s message, he was to heed that sometimes standing fast is foolhardy. He saw his vision then, a Shoanti barbarian carrying a massive hammer, that he’d get a burst of strength against should he face him.

She retrieved the rest of their cards, shuffled them, and then handed the deck to Calli. “Shuffle and pass to the next until all have handled the cards.” One by one, they obeyed, each with their own flare to the procedure. Once they were back with her, she began flipping them in front of her where they hovered as if set upon an invisible table. The Flowers gathered around to witness the spread.

The Crows, The Eclipse, and The Liar were the first three in the left column. “The past cards promise the thievery can be stopped. There were heralded abilities, and a new relationship began. This is clearly the darkness descending on the world, manipulated by a liar. You all joined to stop it.” This sounded accurate. The Theater, The Peacock, and The Paladin were the center row. “The present states that the prophesy is a true one. There will be a sudden personal shift. Standing fast in adversity may be foolish. I see that by leaving town to find the answers you seek you’re on the right trail, and with a aid of a bit of theatrics it will all pay off. You will need to show people you’re worthy.” Finally The Courtesan, The Winged Serpent, and The Tyrant were on the right. They all found it fitting that the image for The Tyrant was a blue dragon with a crown icon in the corner. “The Future shows you’re on the way to take on the Blue Tyrant, but with the Winged Serpent in the spread you will have goodness on your side. Someone close to the tyrant may well have two faces, and actually be on your side.”

Calli proposed the Queen’s right hand, Sabina Merrin, might be someone they would be able to reach out to. The men all grumbled dissent immediately. She pointed out if they had been close, in a relationship, but that the Queen was now possessed by the dragon, Sabina might very well want rid of the dragon as much as they do to get her lady back. She turned to Zellara, and saw only the bustling market. Everything had returned to reality around them in a blink.

Two small children stood in front of them, one holding out a wooden bowl and mid-sentence asking for alms. Taylan’s eyes brightened at the street urchins, feeling kindred spirits as it hadn’t even been a full year since he was one, himself.

Travis set in a silver, and they thanked him and then turned to the next of the group. Calli put in a silver for each of them, Nightingale added a gold, Taylan upped the ante with two more gold, and then they looked eagerly at Byron.

“He paid for me,” he nodded at Taylan.

They gave profound thanks, and Calli asked for directions to a healer. They first suggested someone called ‘The Doctor’, but warned you’d have to be desperate. They then suggested Ramplin the Flamboyant’s tent further up the road who sells potions.

“Are there no churches?” Taylan scanned the city skyline for familiar steeples.

“Oh, you’ve not been here before, have you?” Asked the elder child who had been doing the speaking for them both. “Not much in the way of churches, no.”

Travis admitted they were new to the area, and asked if the kids would be interested in being their tour guides for a couple of days. Show them the layout, give the ins and outs of who’s who, and in return they’d earn an honest wage.

Byron had tired of keeping his weight off his injured leg, and let his rage bubble up. He demanded,“Tour guides!,” and let the rush of adrenaline heal some of his wounds. “Sorry… you little fuckers!” Once more the healing rage coursed within him, until he was able to shift back and forth on the balls of his feet comfortably. He wasn’t fully healed, but he didn’t feel quite as vulnerable, anymore.

The boys had seemed keen on Travis’ offer, but at Bryon’s outbursts flinched back, wide-eyed, and the taller one made a frantic gesture. Calli and Travis followed their eye-line and turned to see a third small child who’d been attempting to pick their pockets. The taller child rushed to regain their attention, “Oh, glad you’re back, we’re going to be tour guides!” He looked between his cohorts with obvious authority, and they parroted in assent, “We’re going to be tour guides!”

Travis asked for their names. Smiler was the oldest, Hawkins his little brother had been with him, and Reggie was the one bringing up the rear. The half-orc had an ease of speaking with them, and they took to him right away. His time helping look after the orphans of Korvosa was evident.

Eager to impress their new bosses, the three children began rambling to whichever Flowers were nearest of all the latest gossip of the streets. A green dragon had been spotted heading north (Taylan groaned), a place called the Worm Pit boasted they had champion fighters seeking opponents (Byron sneered that they think they have champions), Blackjack has gone missing from Korvosa- but no matter as a new hero (“Another one?” Calli exclaimed) named Trifaccia has turned up who wears a gold mask with a red cloak and defends the common folk, a conspiracy was spreading that Tuttle the talking parrot who runs Tuttle’s actually died last week- replaced with the imposter parrot who poisoned him (Smiler rolled his eyes at Reggie’s theory), the Cult of the Lost had been seen heading towards the city- they’re all insane witches (Gale admitted he hadn’t heard of them before), the Shoanti had been very mobile recently- a group with an elder passed through to Korvosa and back (Travis knew this must be Thousand Bones) and warbands had been seen on the plains, the Arcanists’ Guild boasted a new door that protected a new vault able to hold any sort of priceless artifact one may want stored (most of the Flowers perked up at this news), and a dragon had attacked the Half-Light Path entombing some of the Duskwardens within.

At this Byron laughed, “We know. We were there. And if any of you try to take any of my things again, I’ll entomb you with them.” Their dirty faces paled under the grime.

“No worries, squire, I’ll be straight with you from now on,” Smiler swore.

Calli could tell he was being as honest as he could be, but offered the story of the Goose that Laid the Golden Egg for good measure. It was lost on them, until Gale added, “Don’t shit where you eat.” They understood that one.

Smiler sent the other two children off to resume their ‘begging’, promising to take the first day as tour guide on his own. When he turned back he nearly bumped into Byron, and quailed back from the impassive face looking down at him. He held his hands up as if to show he hadn’t been attempting anything funny.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just cranky because he’s with child,” Travis gave a tusky grin as the rest of the Flowers, remembering the hippogriff egg in Byron’s papoose, burst into laughter.

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Smiler gave them a running commentary of the city around them as he led the party to Ramplin’s. He let them know Ramplin would be able to deal with a great deal of any loot they might want bought or sold, but for magic items they were better off across town at the Arcanists’ Guild. He gave them info about various info about places to eat, sleep, or generally enjoy oneself. They learned there was no central government, just warring groups, personal guards, and a delicate balance between the inhabitants that keeps what passes for peace.

It was at this time they heard a voice shout, “Thieves! Stop them!” Heads turned to watch three humans, a woman and two men- one wearing broken manacles on hands and feet, running from two guards and a shouting merchant lagging further behind. The crowds parted to watch the procession go by, no one seemed interested in intervening. The Flowers followed Smiler’s lead and stood to one side.

The guards caught up to those fleeing right in front of the party. One of the guards brought the woman down in a flying tackle, grinding her face into the rough trod path below. The unmanacled man turned and begin wailing on that guard to free his compatriot. Byron picked the man up by the back of his leather armor and tossed him to the side, and Nightingale rested his blade casually against the guard. The other guard drew his weapon, and it became a tense standoff. The two runaway men hovered anxiously, watching as the guards squared off with the newcomers.

“I understand you may need to arrest her, but you can do it without the excess violence,” Gale cooly instructed.

The guard looked shocked to be challenged in this way, but slowly got to his feet, dragging the woman he’d collared up with him, “She’s a theif!”

“Yes, but you aren’t a thug,” Nightingale retorted.

“Gently, please,” Byron added.

The guard scoffed, “Just because she’s a woman?” Byron extended one of his claws and the guard looked around at the Flowers that had now surrounded them. “Who are you people?”

“Who are we? We’re The Pastry Pals!” Taylan struck a pose, and aside from a few rolled eyes, no one corrected him.

The merchant finally caught up, huffing and puffing, and bent over, hands on his thighs to catch his breath. He began barking orders, “What are you threatening my guards for? They’ve rightly apprehended one of the thieves who ran off with my merchandise, stop this at once!”

Byron took the lead, “I don’t care what she’s done she doesn’t need to be manhandled so badly. What property have you lost?”

The merchant caught sight of the two men lurking behind the Flowers and pointed at the manacled man, “HIM!” The reality of the situation hit them. The man was a slaver, and it had been a rescue mission.

The man without manacles angrily replied, “That’s my brother!”

Anotherfew guards approached the confrontation, whom the people in the market parted to allow past. Smiler whispered that they were some of the overall Market Guards, whom everyone in this section defers to, and the one in the shiny armor was Captain Fenris. Once the Market Guards had taken over the situation, those milling about hoping for a spectacle moved on, and the crowds returned to their own business.

The Captain wasted no time in demanding answers. The merchant whined about his stolen goods, and Fenris sighed when he saw the guilty party. It seemed there was a group from elsewhere in Kaer Maga known as the Freeborn, where slavery was illegal. They had a history of stealing slaves and spiriting them back to freedom. Fenris didn’t seem keen on the merchant, either, though, giving him as much attitude as the Freeborn. He asked the Flowers what they had to do with it.

Calli explained they were new to town and were looking for healing when everything kicked off in front of them. She then began asking questions about the logistics of how slavery worked if it was only legal in some of the quarters, slowly moving around until the Captain’s back was to the Freeborn behind him. She smiled sweetly, and with a twirl of her hair and using a sing-song voice, cast fascinate, “You see we’ve only just got here, couldn’t you tell us all about it?,” and held it with some gentle humming. Captain Fenris, one of his underlings, and the merchant’s guard holding the woman, turned all of their attention on the pink haired beauty. Fenris obligingly began describing the intricacies of the local politics over the sound of her music. Because everyone else seemed to be interested, the market guard not caught in the spell also focused on the information the captain was giving, though he wasn’t sure why since it was information the rest of them already knew.

The merchant, annoyed, tried to butt in and demand everyone return to helping him retrieve his property, but Byron and Travis stepped in between the merchant and Calli’s crowd. They pulled him into discussing possible rates should he hire the two large barbarians as bodyguards, and their potential worth were they being sold themselves. The two bristled at the suggestion, and the merchant’s other guard stepped forward in case he needed to protect his employer.

This left no eyes on the trio trying to escape. The woman was able to carefully slip out of the grip of the enchanted guard, and Taylan cast invisibility on the manacled man. His brother, seeing what all was happening, gripped Nightingale’s hand warmly, and quietly thanked him, “You have friends in the Freeborn. Should you need help, come see us.” And with that they rushed off into the market crowds, unpursued.

Eventually the merchant noticed they had gotten away, and expressed his frustration loudly. Byron and Travis heckled him for being a careless business owner with undisciplined guards. They asked for his card, saying they may come by and check out his operation to see if they might be able to help him get it into shape. The man handed over a bit of parchment with his name, Kali Efrin, and Travis suggested he hurry back to his stall before someone steals anything more. Calli, having heard the coast was clear, dropped the enchantment. Kali stormed off, followed by his two sheepish guards, and Fenris looked around a bit surprised that everything had resolved while he was distracted. He wasn’t certain what had happened, but he suspected The Flowers had a hand in it.

He eyed up the group warily, and said he’d be keeping an eye on them. Calli repeated that they were only there to do make some sales and purchases as they passed through. He noticed Smiler trying to hide behind Travis, and called his name, a note of warning in the word. Travis group assured the captain that they’d hired the boy as a guide, and that perhaps the gainful employment would keep him out of trouble for a few days. He relented that this was a good idea, but then remembered the other two boys who normally accompanied him were worse when left to their own devices, and took his guards off to look for them.

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Smiler led them on to a large tent with a colorful looking gnome and his two assistants out front beckoning people to enter. One was a cat woman in leather armor, and the other a bald blue-skinned man in pantaloons with curly red shoes. The gnome proclaimed his merchandise top quality, and they quickly understood this to be Ramplin himself. His clothes were various bright colors, his pantaloons intricately embroidered with birds and insects gambling in the woods, and his hat boasted an exotic bird feather. The gnome recognized their young guide, correctly identified the party as adventurers with business to attend to, and he eagerly ushered them all inside with promises of complimentary healing potions for the injured among them. He left his assistants- Proffer and Venture- out front to continue soliciting passers-by.

Inside the air was thick with incense, and somehow seemed a larger space than the tent seemed outside. Stone steps led down into a center seating area full of plush cushions around a low table. All around them were racks of weapons, stands of armor, and cases of valuable stones, jewelry, wands, rugs, carpets, shoes, and bottles of various liquids. He settled them on the pillows and handed out small, delicate cups filled with hot, brown liquid. It tasted of hot chocolate, and those with wounds felt them fade a bit away.

Finally feeling like they were somewhere safe for the moment, Calli prestidigitated away the grime and gore of the long journey for the Flowers. She and Taylan also pulled out their curing wands and ensured everyone was back to normal. Feeling more herself, she then smiled brightly at Ramplin and asked where he would like her to begin placing all the things they were wanting to sell.

Ramplin called out for Proffer, and the blue-skinned man ran in obediently. The gnome had his assistant fetch a jeweler’s eyepiece for him, and the long and tedious process began. The group would hand something to Ramplin, he would accurately identify it immediately, and he’d hand it off to Proffer to be stored or displayed as instructed. It had been weeks since they were last able to offload, and at the end of it all the sum Ramplin offered them caused the eyes of the Old Korvosan’s to boggle. They’d never owned so much gold at one time.

Then it was Ramplin’s turn to begin showing off everything he had to sell. The group began debating the pros and cons of the many options open to them, and this easily took just as long as the selling had. Their host asked what kinds of things they were interested in, and Calli spoke up with some specific items she thought might compliment each of her companions. As luck would have it, he had all the carefully considered pieces, and most of them were pleased with her suggestions enough to agree. The casters all picked up rings that would allow them the benefit of a full night’s rest in only two hours, plus they no longer needed food or water to survive. With how often their rest was disturbed, it would be good for them to recover spells at the rapid pace. She also suggested some Elven gloves for Taylan, which would boost his particular casting in a number of ways. Travis was thrilled with a chain that, once attached to his axe, allowed him to throw it and have it automatically return to his hands. The only hesitant member was Byron. She’d suggested upgrading his breastplate to mithral- the protective quality would remain the same, but the lighter weight would allow him more mobility. He had his eyes on some other items that wouldn’t leave him enough to afford it.

After everyone had made their various purchases of items and potions, both Calli’s suggestions and otherwise, they were busy getting familiar with their new gear. Calli once again hadn’t found much that had interested her, so she took Ramplin aside and paid for Byron’s upgrade herself. She ensured the merchant would transfer over the magical gem embedded within to the new breastplate, and even add intricate floral designs that she knew he favored. The two then approached the large man, and Ramplin asked him to hand over his armor. Byron was confused, but acquiesced. Calli kept him distracted while he questioned what was happening, and when he was handed back his new chest piece his eyes lit up. He buckled it on and moved around, surprised at how much difference it made. Byron gave her a grateful hug, and she was relieved to feel that the new armor was just as she’d hoped- less clunky to embrace.

Ramplin thanked them for their business, and suggested they check the Arcanist’s Guild across town for the more pricey or custom items they’d inquired after. He saw them off with a wave, and as they walked away they heard him return to calling out for customers, boasting of the magnificent new stock that had just arrived.

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The evening was creeping in, and they felt they should grab a bite to eat before finding lodgings for the night. They asked Smiler to lead them to Tuttle’s, wanting to see the possibly replaced parrot for themselves. As they entered the Hospitality area they noticed a distinct change in the atmosphere. There were more visible guards, but licentious behaviour was clearly encouraged, as scantily clad beauties beckoned from windows and doorways as they passed.

Tuttle’s Tavern was doing a roaring trade, nearly full to the brim of merry patrons enjoying ale and what smelled like delicious food while musicians entertained them all from a small wooden platform serving as a stage. A gnome rushed up to greet them, and hearing they needed a table for six, called out to a vibrantly plumed parrot perched on the bar. This, they assumed, was the infamous Tuttle, and he indicated a table off to one side that had just been freed up.

Remembering the local gossip Reggie had passed on, Calli kept her voice low and asked the gnome if there was any truth to the story that the bird had been replaced. The man acted scandalized and denied it, asking the bird who agreed he was the same he had always been. Calli could tell by his reaction that the gnome was lying to her, and all three of the casters spotted that he was using a ventriloquism spell to make it seem like the bird was speaking. As the tiny man continued to deny it, Taylan cast dispel magic, and the bird ceased participating in the conversation. Travis shook his head and went to sit at the table. The gnome gestured and the rest of them bent down around him to hear as he quietly explained himself.

“Look, it’s my bar, okay? It’s a gimmick! Tuttle died a couple of days ago, and I got another fucking parrot. It’s just a parrot! Stop ruining my gimmick!” His voice was tight with frustration, and they had the decency to apologize.

Nightingale attempted to extort a discount out of him to keep the secret, but Calli interrupted and offered to perform.

“You better be fucking good,” the proprietor sniffed.

Gale then began negotiating payment, and the gnome offered free food and a promise not to throw them out. The gnome pulled a bit of parchment from his pocket, rolled it into a cone, and spoke a short incantation into it causing the parrot’s voice to miraculously return. He shooed them inside and got back to work.

The Flowers took seats with Travis and ordered. The food that was brought to them quickly explained why the tavern was so packed. Every dish was exquisite. Coupled with a lively atmosphere and the good ale, the group found themselves really relaxing for the first time in a very long time. The troubles of Korvosa were miles away, it wasn’t likely that the green dragon would try anything while they were in such a well-guarded town, and there was nothing else they could do for the evening but enjoy it.

Once the meals were cleared away, Calli was called upon to perform, and she did so with aplomb. She sang only three songs. An upbeat tune of adventuring to lift the spirits, a drinking song about a mighty feast to stoke appetites, and a lusty tune in keeping with the vibe of the Hospitality District. It brought the house down, and their table was quickly full of drinks and snacks sent over from appreciative fans.

Taylan, Travis, and even Nightingale made the most of the drinks. The trio weren’t prone to regular drunkenness, and weren’t aware how strong the drinks at Tuttle’s were made. The later hadn’t drank more than one in a night in nearly eight years, so it wasn’t long before he no longer noticed when his empty tankard had been refilled. Calli had rarely ever seen her bodyguard drink, and never drunk, so she was thrilled to see him cutting loose. Byron was more reserved with his intake, wanting to check out the pit fights later, and Calli kept it moderate as well, stopping at warm and tipsy. She had her own plans for the night.

The gnome swung by, nodded approvingly, and said they’d be welcome back, before returning to his busy trade.

Smiler cheered, “That’s great! I’ve never had so much food in my life!”

The party highlighted it was a perk of working with them, and not just trying to rob them. He agreed, and promised he and his brothers would watch their backs.

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It was full dark as they left. Having eaten, the next thing to do was find where they’d bed down. Smiler gave them three options. The Golden Aurochs - very expensive and lush, The Worm Pit - down and dirty, or the House of the Night Sisters - if you want a bit of company to go with the bed. They remembered that The Worm Pit housed the pit fights, and as they were feeling merry and still had money to burn, decided to stay at the fancy place… just in case someone who lost a bet on account of them wanted some revenge.

The passed door guards in gilded livery to enter the ostentatious Golden Aurochs. It played up to the name, the insides were lavishly overdone with gold accents on cream decor. The wooden flooring and ceiling beams had been painted white, and the pristine cream-colored rug they walked along had been enchanted, as any muck they tracked in on it dissipated away a moment later. A painted sculpture of an aurochs rearing was within the entrance hall. The shaggy-furred bovine was tossing it’s head, razor-sharp horns tipped in gold. Around its feet were arranged cleverly arranged deep red flowers and berries bursting up in a spray that gave the impression of the bull splashing in a pool of blood. They scented the air with a heady spiced scent. An older human with half-moon spectacles raised a bushy brow at the spectacle that arrived. “May I help you?”

“We’ll have the finest wines available to humanity!” Travis slurred, “And we want them now!”

“How much for rooms, sir?” Calli asked as the guys burst into laughter behind her.

“One hundred gold per room, per night,” the unimpressed man replied.

“One hundred?!” Calli was scandalized, having grown accustomed to average lodging prices being significantly lower.

“Let’s go to the Worm,” Byron turned to go.

“Is there somewhere between you and the Worm?” Calli asked the concierge, not wanting to believe the only options in the whole town were extortion, poverty, or depravity.

“We’ve arrived here now,” Nightingale drunkenly reasoned, “and I think this man is a scholar and a gentleman.” He tipped his bowler hat to the man behind the counter.

Taylan piped up, “I’m from the gutter, and I want to sleep on a golden sofa!”

Reluctantly Calli agreed after ensuring the hotel was well guarded so they wouldn’t need to be concerned with assigning watches through their rest. “Three rooms, please,” she requested.

“Four rooms!” Gale upped the ante.

“Forskins!” Travis added, and they all, minus the old man, joined him in laughter.

“Three rooms,” Calli repeated.

“What’s the most expensive room?” Taylan leaned an elbow on the marble counter, transferring a smudge of gravy from his sleeve as he did.

“You want the honeymoon suite?” The concierge removed a cloth handkerchief and quickly wiped away the grime.

“YES,” Gale, Taylan, and Travis all declared in unison.

Travis pointed at Byron and Calli and began making a loud “OHHHHH!!!” noise as it occurred to him the two could finally cut through the tension that had been building. He started clapping a rhythm and sang out, “Someone’s getting laid tonight! Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

Nightingale scrunched his eyes shut, “I don’t want to hear it, so please make my room far from theirs.”

“That’s a thousand gold pieces,” the man behind the desk gave a small wry smile.

Patting Byron on the back, Nightingale spoke, “This man has agreed to pay that for that room for her.”

The pair in question turned away from each other. Calli, to look apologetically at the concierge, and Byron to move towards the door. “Let’s go to the Worm,” he again insisted.

“That’s what she’s gonna say!” Travis said, and he and Taylan both followed up with a cheer and more laughter.

“Three normal rooms!” Calli repeated, and began counting out coins. “I assume that includes breakfast?”

“Of course.” The gentleman took the gold and passed over three keys.

Calli handed one key to Nightingale, “You and Taylan in a room.” The two men cheered. She held one out to Travis, “You can have a room.”

“What, on my own?” Travis wrinkled his nose at the key as he took it. He’d already decided Byron would be staying with Calli.

“No, you can come in our room,” Gale offered.

“I’m gonna go in their room! Let’s fuckin go!” Travis agreed. The three men cheered.

“And where are YOU two gonna go? Eh?” Travis taunted Byron and Calli again.

She avoided the question, and turned to Byron. “Pit fights?”

He looked relieved to have an excuse to get away from the teasing. “Yes! Pit fighting. Let’s go.”

Travis grinned again, “Oh is that what you call it?” The trio continued laughing.

“Let’s go watch Byron fight!” Gale seemed very excited at the idea.

Calli looked between them, “Should you all not stay, you’re a bit intoxicated?”

“No. I want to watch the fighting.” He stomped back out the entrance.

Taylan followed first, “The party never dies!”

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The Worm Pit was a study in contrasts from the Golden Aurochs. There were no decorations, save a chalkboard that proclaimed, “All comers welcome! Fight one opponent or many!” They smelled stale ale and body odour before they even got inside. Within, the weathered wood of the building showed gouges and scorch marks from brawls of the past. It was as bustling as Tuttle’s had been, but with notably fewer teeth amongst the patrons. In the centre of the large, open planned floor was an empty space enclosed within a barred cage with two doors, one on either side. The pit was currently only occupied by a halfling using a push broom to shuffle unidentifiable chunks of flesh to one side, while a second re-covered the dark, wet ground with sand out of a large sack.

The Flowers were directed to a half-orc taking bets and paying out to the winners of the previous match. Byron indicated he wanted in, and the half-orc looked him over appraisingly. “Which challenge, one beast or many?”

“One,” Byron said. “I’ll take on your so-called champion.”

“You sure?” He lifted a green finger to point at a tally board on his table. “Aurumvorax wins:” was followed by eight neat marks. Betting odds were listed below, and they were not encouraging.

“Maybe not…” Byron didn’t recognize what the creature was.

Neither did Calli, but she knew him. “Now look here, we have The Champion of Korvosa here willing to fight your creature. THE Korvosan Bear! He’s taken down far more than eight pathetic foes, he’s crushed everyone and everything that’s stood in his way!”

“That’s right! A thousand gold on the Korvosan Bear!” Nightingale chimed in. The rest of the party looked at him in shock.

Byron was heartened by this show of support. “You know what, that’s a good idea. I’ll put some money on myself, as well.”

As the half-orc took their money and wrote out their betting slips Calli asked, “What are the rules about buffing the fighters here?”

“You can do as you like until he gets in the ring. Nothing once he’s in.” Having handed out the slips, the half-orc called over a human coworker to take over the betting table and headed to the cage. The others followed.

“How do we know when the fight is over,” Calli questioned, “Is it a point system? Or knockout?”

The Pit’s half-orc stopped for a moment and looked back at her, “Nooo…”

There was an awkward silence as she looked between everyone regarding her like a lost child. Travis spoke up, “It’s to the death.”

“What?!”

“Yeah,” he continued, “It’s a pit fight. It’s to the death. It’s how it’s always done.”

“No. It can’t always be a fight to the death, you’d run out of fighters!” Calli’s voice raised higher in pitch with each successive word. Byron was looking ahead into the cage, stretching out his muscles and avoiding her eye. He couldn’t afford any distractions.

Travis waved her comment away, “Nahh there’s always someone.” He took something out of his pocket and handed it off to Byron. “Now look, here, keep this on you. I can’t cast spells on you, but it’s the poison protection amulet I got from the Varisians. If you don’t use it, I want it back!” Byron grasped Travis by the forearm and nodded his thanks.

The Worm Pit’s half-orc let himself into the cage as the halflings were leaving the other side. He made a gesture at his throat, and when he next spoke his voice was magnified over the din of the room. “Listen up worms!” The chatter in the crowd died down a fraction as people listened with interest. “Our next fighter is something special! The champion of Korvosa, the Korvosan Bear himself!” The crowd cheered. “He’s come all the way to us to face our single challenger, claws versus claws.” The crowd ‘oooo’d appropriately. “So get your bets in now, as one way or another an undefeated streak will become just another smear in our pit in a few short minutes!”

The crowd came alive. Some rushed the bar for refills, some to the betting table, some trying to get good vantages on the arena.

Nightingale took Byron’s shoulders in his hands and squinted in extreme concentration as he cast blur and bull’s strength on the barbarian. He would be harder to hit, and hit harder.

Calli then stepped up. She removed one of the wands from the party Haversack and tapped him with it, casting shield, and then used her own magic to haste him for good measure. He was as buffed as they could get him without interfering with the fight itself.

Taylan had recalled what the street urchins had been telling him earlier, and remembered the aurumvorax was some sort of small lion creature that had killed anyone who’d tried to fight it so far. He told the others, and Nightingale reassured Byron it would be fine. “Bears eat lions!”

Travis backed him up, “In the jungle, everyone knows that, it’s true!”

Calli looked up at the barbarian, wringing the wand in her hands. “You have to come back.”

“I plan to,” Byron gave her a grin, covering the uncertainty that had appeared the more he learned about his opponent. The half-orc called him to the cage door, and Byron gave The Flowers a small salute before turning and striding off.

Byron went through the door, the half-orc stepped out, and locked it behind him. Byron frowned, and the employee reassured him it was so the monster couldn’t get out the wrong way during the fight.

The rest of them shoved their way over to a small table near the caged fighting space. Travis scowled at a couple of weedier looking humans who had been there, and they gave up their seats. Travis and Taylan sat, Calli stood right against the bars, and Nightingale stood just behind her, leaning on the table. They could see as their friend strutted into the ring while the half-orc announced the start of the match. Byron flexed for the cheering onlookers, activated his flaming gauntlets, and let his bone claws rip from between his knuckles with a growl, in full performance mode. Gale provided magical special effects as he would if Calli had been performing: colored spotlights and atmospheric mist ensured Byron’s entrance was one to remember.

The gate on the opposite side lifted up, as opposed to out, and a small golden-furred beast skittered into the pit. It was only a meter long, but was stocky, and had eight legs ending in vicious claws. It had small rounded ears and a snout like a cat’s, lips pulled back in a snarl revealing razor-sharp teeth. It’s long tail flicked in irritation at the roar of the crowd, and it decided to take it out on the only person it could reach.

Nightingale shouted, “It looks like a pussy!” and laughter sprung up from those around to hear.

Byron and the small creature began circling slowly around the sandy arena, studying their opponent and planning their strategy.

Travis and Taylan bellowed encouragement. Nightingale looked around the room, trying to do the security scan he was used to doing but finding it difficult to really pick out anyone more dangerous than themselves. He noticed an old man with a glowing sword they’d seen in the market earlier at the bar. The bartender set down a drink, the old man waved his hand, and Gale saw him say, “I’ve already paid you.” The bartender nodded, and walked away.

“I’m going to get us drinks,” Gale announced, and made a beeline for the old man.

Taylan felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to look into the face of a pretty woman who had been in the circus with him. His ale-pickled brain attempted to remember her name.

With a sudden burst of speed Byron raced across the pit and pounced upon the beast. His claws made rapid strikes, three in a row, and he felt the thick hide of the little monster was tougher than it seemed as he pierced into it and spattered first blood into the sand. The fire seemed to do nothing at all to the shiny golden hairs.

The beast squealed, and twisted around underneath Byron to try and return the favour. In pulling away from one of his claws it ripped its own wound open further, and most of the scrabbling paws made awful scratching noises harmlessly against his breast plate. It managed to catch one of his legs with one of its own, and having found purchase kicked again against him. Two of it’s back legs left shallow bloodied streaks down the legs of his trousers.

“Taylan?! What are you doing here? We left you in Korvosa!” The lithe woman had long wavy hair tied back with a ribbon, and wore a ruffled dress hitched up at one side to show off a shapely leg.

The leg reminded him that she had been a dancer for the circus. Mikaleth. “I’m on a mission with my friends! We’re saving Korvosa. We’re heroes!” She looked at him as if he was pulling her leg. “How are you? How is everyone? I mean, I know a lot of them are dead now, but who else got away?”

A shadow fell across her face, “I think I’m the only one left. When the dragon came I ran through the night to get away, and I haven’t found anyone else since.”

“We saw the campsite,” Taylan said, “it was fucked. But what happened to…” He furrowed his brow, “the mother of my child?” Between the screaming crowd and the drink, he was struggling to get to the name he’d buried down within. He’d spent a lot of time trying to forget it, after all.

Mikaleth looked horrified at him. “You can’t remember her name?!”

Meanwhile at the bar Nightingale pushed in next to the old man. “I saw your…” and he made the same hand gesture.

“Ah, the Mind Trick.” His voice was smooth and assured. “It’s a special power one can gain.”

“How?”

“Well if you’ve spent time studying the arcane arts-”

“I have!”

“Oh, well then, what you do is-” and the man paused, “Now I can’t let you have this knowledge for free, you understand.”

“Of course! I can get you lodgings for the night, we have rooms at the Golden Aurochs.”

He seemed impressed, “I see! No, I have somewhere to stay. I could teach you this for, let’s say, three hundred gold.”

Nightingale pulled his betting slip out, “I have a bet on the Bear!”

“How much if you win?”

“A thousand gold, and you can have five hundred of it.”

The crowd suddenly made a pained noise as if something particularly nasty had happened in the pit. The old man raised an eyebrow. “And if he loses?”

“See those two over there?” Nightingale pointed to where Travis was stood on his chair, screaming with the crowd. Taylan was next to him, hands up in defense as an attractive woman shook an accusing finger in his face. “If I lose the short one there will pay you the three hundred.”

“Five if you win and three if you lose? Deal.” And the stranger began explaining to him the ancient and complicated secrets of the Mind Trick.

Byron and the beast continued to tear into each other, each getting brutal attacks in, leaving bright red stains around them as they tussled. The aurumvorax had one leg hanging limply after a particularly gruesome break the barbarian had inflicted left bones protruding through the fur. It seemed like one of the creature’s revenge slashes had nicked something crucial in the human. A steady flow of blood was seeping from one arm.

“That’s right, shit all over it!” Travis cheered. “You got this, Byron! Squash the badger!” He noticed how tensely Calli was watching, and hopped down off his chair to get her in a headlock. He rubbed green knuckles over her head, “Loosen up, he’ll be fine!”

She squealed, not having been subjected to such treatment since her brother had been banished. When he released her she soothed her ruffled hair and resumed focus on the combatants. “You’ve seen him win lots of times?” Calli gripped on to the bars tightly, face pressed against them.

“Oh, let me tell you, he’s a fucking murderer.” He laughed. “Honestly, not just in the pits, he used to massacre innocents! I don’t want to get into his history, but suffice to say, it’s bloody. He’ll be absolutely fine.” Calli turned briefly to face him, a hurt confusion on her face, and he remembered who he was talking to. “Oop, might have said to much. Don’t worry about it. Let’s have another drink!”

She turned back to the fight, and her immediate concerns over the fight quickly crowded out any follow-up questions she might have had.

Travis overheard Taylan attempting, and failing, to come up with his ex’s name as Mikaleth chided him. He cut through the air between them with a flat, green hand to interrupt the argument. “Look, she left him, and he’s got a new wife now. Granted, he’s left her behind and all.”

The bickering seemed like it was going to start up again, when Calli spoke up, “Antonia De la Hoy.” She didn’t even turn around.

Taylan brightened, “Yes! Antonia! Where is she?”

“She and your child were taken by the dragon, you asshole!” The dancer turned on her heel and stormed off into the throng.

Back at the bar the older man encouraged Nightingale to test out the trick. They called over the barman, and Gale ordered a bottle of their finest liquor.

He returned with a bottle of rich brown liquid and set it on the counter. It had an impressive label decorated with gold foil filigree. “And you can afford this, can you?”

“Yes,” Nightingale waved his hand like he had been shown, “because I’ve already paid you.”

The bartender blinked a few times. “You’ve already paid,” he mumbled, and moved along to the next person waiting to order.

The older man clapped him on the back, “Well done! I’ve never seen anyone pick it up so quickly! And you are going to honor your deal, right?”

“Of course I am! Come with me, join us!” He took the bottle and the stranger back to their table.

At the table Taylan was sat with his head in his hands. He looked up as Nightingale approached, “Apparently the green dragon has my baby.” Travis cheered.

“It’s alright,” Gale consoled him, “I’ve lost a baby. You get used to it.” Nighingale and Travis cheered.

“I never knew my mother!” Travis joined in. All three men cheered. The older fellow stood with his arms tucked into the opposite sleeve and quietly regarded the trauma dumping. Realizing he’d forgotten to bring cups for the booze, Nightingale simply passed around the bottle and they took turns swigging from the neck of it.

Calli heard nothing after answering the question for Taylan. Within the pit the fight raged on. Byron had severed another of the aurumvorax’s legs clean off. It was looking close to death after the unrelenting abuse he’d dealt it. Scraps of bloodied fur hung off it smeared through, and it began stumbling as it tried to stay standing. Byron himself was comparatively well off. The combination of Byron’s experience, armor, and the buffs his team mates had laid upon him had kept the monster from doing much serious damage to him. It was even as if the crowd itself was adding fuel to the fire within him, something Calli understood all to well as a musician.

In a desperate last attempt, it launched itself at Byron’s neck, wrapping its remaining limbs around him. Before it could snap shut its jaws, Byron buried his claws in either side of its torso and lifted it above him to give everyone a better view as he ripped it in twain. Gore showered over him as the audience went wild. Clapping, stamping, cheering, whistling, and screams to celebrate the end of the golden menace at the Pit. He walked to the side of the pit and flung half the beast at some of the crowd, then walked further along towards the exit, ripped the remaining half into two and flung those as well. “THERE ya fuckers! You want some? Fuckin have it!”

The Flowers had joined the crowd in celebration, and Nightingale used mage hand to retrieve a chunk of the dead monster being thrown. “I’ve got a souvenir! I caught it!”

Calli bolted from her spot, weaving through the bodies to get to the cage door. It had been unlocked and he was exiting, jostled by people congratulating him and praising his skill. His self-satisfied grin got even bigger as Calli lept into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck, not even minding the mess of the battle. Adrenaline pumping in his veins from the high of the win, he kissed her, and she joyfully reciprocated. It tasted of blood. The other Flowers looked over to see the two entwined. Taylan and Travis cheered, but Nightingale made a distressed noise and turned his back to them.

The pair returned to the table, joy written on their bloody faces. Calli magically cleaned away the gore, and the others joined the crowd in complimenting Byron on his victory. The Worm Pit’s employed half-orc stopped by the table to deliver Byron and Nightingale’s winnings, they’d gotten back double their bets. “Let’s take on the small fuckers!” Byron suggested, but the half-orc declined, saying he’d already cost the venue their aurumvorax, and those aren’t cheap.

Gale happily paid the stranger, who took his five hundred and promptly left. Unfortunately for Gale, he wasn’t able to find the same barman again, and he found the Mind Trick didn’t seem to work on anyone else. He was getting quite heated trying to convince one of the other servers he’d already paid, when Travis stepped in and subtly slipped some coins across the bar. The server sighed, took the payment, and in a bored monotone assented, “You’ve paid for the drinks.” The drunken trio cheered, and sensing their welcome was wearing thin at the Worm Pit, took their drinks to go.

————————————————————

The group staggered back to the Golden Aurochs arm in arm. Some needed the help staying upright, while others were just enjoying the physical proximity. The doorman who let them in shushed them as they stumbled past, and they quieted down the bawdy drinking tune they’d been singing.

As they reached the top of the stairs Calli indicated the first of the doors on the left for the drunken trio.

“Which room am I in?” Smiler piped up. They all jumped, having forgotten the boy was still with them. No one asked where he’d been at the Worm Pit.

“You could have Travis’ room, since he’s not using it, I guess,” Calli offered. “It’s the next one along.”

Travis fished out his key from his pocket and passed it over. “But you must behave yourself. Remember, don’t shit where you eat.”

“You can come in the room with us, too!” Nightingale offered, and both Taylan and Travis began chanting ‘Smiler’ as he carried on, “We can get you shitfaced!”

“Nightingale you can’t get him drunk he’s a literal child,” Calli was scandalized.

“What are you twelve? Thirteen? You can give it a try. Here!” Gale held out his bottle to Smiler, who took a step back.

“No, thank you,” Smiler declined. Looking around at the state of them, he handed Calli the key. “I’m going to check on my brothers.”

Travis put a hand over his heart, “That’s touching, that is. You go look after your family, and we’ll sort you out in the morning.”

Nightingale was visibly becoming emotional, “You’re the best kid. The best. Family is the most important thing.”

Taylan patted Gale on the back and agreed, “Family is the most important thing.”

Travis continued, “You’ve done well today. Thank you. There’ll be a nice treat in it for you when we’re all finished.”

“You’re like family, Smiler,” from Gale.

“Like the child I’ve never met,” Taylan added saddly.

“You’re one of us!” Nightingale was still going, eyes watering. “If you were my child… you’d be dead. But you’re not my child, you’re alive, and that’s good.”

Travis’ eyes welled up, “That’s fucking touching, man.” The three men began crying and hugged it out. Smiler used the opportunity to wave goodbye to Byron and Calli, and ran back down the stairs out of sight. Byron guided the drunk trio into their room and shut the door after them.

With the drunken trio safely stowed away in the first of the party's rooms, it left the two of them stood in the hotel's hallway with only Focker and Owlet as witnesses. Calli wasted no time returning to his arms for another kiss, this time without the blood. It tasted lightly of the expensive liquor Nightingale had shared out at the Worm Pit- but she noticed Byron had refrained from having too many, in spite of the victory celebration. She had also limited her drinking, and she hoped it was for the same reason. They leaned against the wall lost in the moment, lips joined, until the small house drake spoke up. "Someone's coming, boss."

They reluctantly disentangled, but Calli held on to his hand. Another hotel guest crested the stairs, a stuffy-looking elven male, and passed by determinedly avoiding looking at the pair. He entered a room on the opposite side of the hall and they heard the lock click on his closed door.

Calli had imagined this opportunity a hundred times. She'd practiced different things to say to seem cool, playful, or alluring. But now that it was here, words failed her. In the end she removed the key to her room two doors down with her free hand, held it up, and made a small gesture towards her door with her head.

Byron's smile stretched ear to ear. "Focker, guard the door." He allowed the bard to lead him into her room, and shut the door behind him.

"Yes, boss!" the drake replied, and landed with his small owl familiar in front of the door they'd entered.

A moment later it opened again, and Calli placed a large white feather throw pillow on the ground next to them to use as a resting place. "Thank you," she whispered, and then shut the door on them again.*

Within the drunken room, Taylan perked up. “Let’s use the mattress to slide down the stairs!”

Nightingale began ripping the expensive bedding from the thick mattress, “I can use Ray of Frost to make it slippier!”

“I want to shit on someone’s face,” Travis proclaimed, and with his thickly muscled arms lifted the mattress with ease. Taylan opened the door for him, and they proceeded to unleash their drunken chaos on the hotel.

* The expanded scene First Night has been written, but is not in the Character Logs due to the explicit nature of the story and Squarespace’s guidelines. It will be published on AO3, and a link will be added here once it is uploaded.

————————————————————

A heavy knock at the door woke the now hungover trio from their deep slumber. Their heads pounded, the knock echoing through their skulls. The bed mattress was nowhere to be seen, Taylan was sprawled across the plush cream chaise lounge sofa. Nightingale and Travis were spooning together on the thick white rug. They sat up, wiped their eyes, and looked around.

“Can anyone remember last night?” Nightingale moaned.

“Where’s the bed gone?” Taylan pointed. The two of them then looked at Travis, who was looking down at himself in shock.

“Why am I wearing a pink taffeta ballgown?!” He grasped at the skirt to pull it off of himself, but his hands went straight through it. He breathed a sigh of relief, and dismissed the illusion being projected by his glamoured armor.

Nightingale sprung to his feet in panic, and then grasped at his stomach which firmly disapproved of the sudden motion. “Shit! Where’s Byron? Where’s Calli?!”

“I don’t remember…” Taylan tried to stand, and it took him a few attempts to manage it.

“Where was the last place we saw them?” Gale put out a hand to help pull Travis to his feet. “There was a fight… and Byron was getting slaughtered-”

“He died!” Taylan wailed.

“Is that why we got so drunk?” Nightingale tried to counterweight for the massive half-orc, but Travis wasn’t budging.

“Byron’s dead!” Taylan mourned, “How are we going to tell Calli?!”

From the ground Travis, who hadn’t been trying to stand up at all, shook the hand holding Gale’s, “The badger ate him, didn’t it? Did it eat her too?!!”

“NO. No… she… she ran off?” Nightingale let go of Travis and started looking around for his hat. “I think I remember hearing her crying.”

They managed to collect themselves, and their things, and carefully made their way out of the room. Whomever had knocked was no longer there, so they continued down the stairs. Next to the staircase a pair of employees were lifting a soaking wet mattress to remove it from the premises. The three fumbled on to the dining area for breakfast. They were dripping sweat, Nightingale’s hair hung unusually loose and lank around his face, and Travis was holding a plant pot from the room that he’d dumped out to use as a sick bowl- just in case.

They entered to see Calli sat at one of the tables looking fresh as a daisy in front of a bowl of fruit. Nightingale started to cry and rushed to sit next to her.

Byron tapped Travis on the shoulder, and both Taylan and Travis started to see the dead man looking very well indeed. He held a plate heaped with Bacon, Eggs, and Sausages in one hand, and in the other he held out Travis’ token of posion protection. “Just wanted to return this, I didn’t need it in the end. Thanks, though!” Travis took it, and groaned at the smell of the food.

The doorman from the night before walked past, stopped, came back, and with a very resigned face addressed Travis. “Hello, again.”

“Sorry have we met?”

There was an awkward pause before Taylan looked at Travis with wide eyes. Byron asked, “What did you do?”

“Yes. We’ve met.” The doorman’s tight lipped reply continued. “You said last night that you wanted to do something to someone, and I just wanted to say that though you paid me a lot of money to do it, I ask that you please never do it again.” Then with head held high, he took his leave. Taylan burst out laughing as he remembered Travis screaming something about wanting to shit on someone, and he filled the other two in on the missing puzzle piece. Byron joined Taylan in laughter, and Travis just shook his head and shrugged.

They then approached the table from behind Nightingale, where he was holding Calli’s hand and speaking very earnestly as she listened with a mischievous smile.

“No, I don’t think you’re remembering all of last night. There was a terrible tragedy. Byron died!”

“It was only a little death,” she quipped, and her eyes flicked quickly to Byron’s as he stood behind her bodyguard.

“No, no, it was quite a graphic death…” Gale tried to explain, but the words died off as Byron walked around him and bent to give Calli a peck on the cheek.

Taylan’s mouth fell open, and Travis nudged him in the ribs, “I called it.”

“Oh, hi Nightingale,” Byron casually greeted as he took his seat on the other side of her and began tucking into his meal.

The magus turned to the other two, “Lads, I don’t think Byron died.”

“Alright, everyone sit down for a minute. I can help,” Calli commanded, and Taylan and Travis took the final seats. She took out her Eagle’s Harp and summoned her lyrakien Rune. “Are you feeling better, dear?” She asked the tiny winged woman.

“Oh yes, much. I’m so sorry for disappearing like that!” Rune seemed truly repentant. It had seemed like weeks since the fight with the white dragon the previous day, and Calli waved away her concern.

“It wasn’t your fault, I’m just sorry you’ve missed out on everything that’s happened since! Look, I promise to fill you in, but some of the party are a bit worse for wear, and none of us got enough sleep last night. Could you sing us a little something to pick us back up again?”

“I’d be delighted!” The fae-like being began singing for them, but though her voice was very high-pitched, those hungover found their headaches fading away. Her song was enchanted by magic, and removed the weariness from their bones, leaving them all feeling rejuvenated and new. They all thanked her profusely, and Calli rewarded her with a strawberry nearly as big as she was.

Though they felt much better, the hungover men still had empty spaces where memories should be. They tried to piece together the missing spaces. They figured out Nightingale had been scammed by the old man, and the barman had been in on it, but as he’d only lost some of the money he’d won and got a bottle of good alcohol out of it, he was able to laugh over it with the others. They worked out Travis had been in the gown because it was one of the stipulations the doorman had made, along with fifty gold, to allow Travis to shit on him. But Nightingale couldn’t understand why he thought he’d heard Calli crying. “Where were you, anyway, if you weren’t dead?” he asked Byron.

“I’m not dead. I was looking after you lot,” Byron answered. Travis raised his eyebrows and tilted his head at his fighting buddy, letting Byron know he knew exactly where he’d been.

“No you weren’t! You weren’t with us!” Nightingale and Taylan started to argue.

Byron cut them off, “Anyway, what’s the plan for today?”

The distraction worked. They continued chatting until Smiler arrived to lead them to the Arcanist’s Guild for the rest of their shopping. On the way out they apologized to the morning concierge on duty for the damage caused, and she reassured them all that they were used to it. That’s why the rooms were so expensive, after all.

————————————————————

The Tarhill Promenade was a storehouse of all things magical. The area was much nicer than the others they’d been in so far, and it was clear that if they had tried to purchase all of their items there instead of at Ramplin’s it would have cost a good deal more. The Arcanist’s Guild had its name emblazoned in letters of literal fire above the door. It was a large three story building made of stone adorned in dull plaster, with a few latticed windows adorned the front of the levels. It was shaped a bit like a lighthouse, as if someone had tried to build a wizard’s tower in the city.

Smiler let them know he’d wait out front for them, as they didn’t like him inside. Byron gave him a couple of gold to keep him honest, and Smiler took the opportunity to compliment him on his excellent performance in the pit. Byron gave him a couple more gold. Nightingale patted the boy on the shoulder and called him a good child.

“Do I really remind you of your child?” Smiler asked Nightingale. The rest of the party turned to look at him, bewildered and worried in no small part at the question.

Travis jumped in and pulled a distraught Nightingale, who did not remember having said anything of the sort, away and started moving into the shop with him. Taylan warned Smiler never to bring up Nightingale’s dead kid again, and the rest of the Flowers followed inside.

Stepping within it was much like Ramplin’s with the wide variety of goods on display, but more so. Mechanical items were also for sale here on the many aisles of shelving, and the open plan interior went straight up through the levels giving them glimpses of more shelves above. To their right was a semi-circular desk, behind which stood what seemed to be a humanoid woman wearing a black dress, black gloves, and a thick black veil that obscured her features.

Calli spoke for the party, asking after particular items, causing the woman to raise an arm and point down an aisle. She made a hissing noise. After a pause Calli asked about also needing some custom work done, and the woman hissed again. Awkwardly, they thanked her, and went in the direction indicated.

The shelves were jam-packed, but they did eventually find a pair of sleek leather gloves marked Gloves of Elvenkind. This was what Taylan had wanted, so he picked them up, causing a disembodied voice to say, “I hope you’re going to pay for that.” Taylan put the gloves back down in surprise, and seeing no one around, picked them back up again retriggering the phrase. It seemed to be automatic. After holding them for a moment, the voice added, “Please take your item to the front desk.”

They wandered the aisles, but found no other person to assist with their shopping. They’d nearly given up when they spotted a massive circular steel door set into a wall, and remembered the gossip about a new unbreakable vault. Nightingale and Taylan got a look of professional interest, but the others convinced them to leave it. Together the Flowers returned to the front desk. The woman was nowhere to be seen, and the door to exit the shop was shut and locked.

A feeling of unease settled across them. Taylan noticed a pair of feet sticking out behind the counter, and he leaned over to see the body that owned them. A man wearing an apron emblazoned with “Arcanist’s Guild Shop” lay clutching a book and staring with wide, dead eyes up at the ceiling. He looked as if he’d died from fright. Nightingale pried the book from his hands and flipped it open. It was the shop’s ledger, and listed among the recent recieved items were a Blinkback Chain Travis had been after, and an alleged sliver of The Dauntless. Travis perked up hearing that. The Dauntless was the ship the legendary Captain Smith, his armor’s original owner, sailed. He needed to inscribe his name upon the ship to fully unlock its power. The ledger indicated both items had been sent to the vault. The Flowers looked back down the aisles. Calli warned if the woman had been there to rob the place, she’d clearly locked them in to frame them for it all. Travis declared he needed to get in the vault. Byron suggested they check the other floors, first, and make sure there aren’t other threats or bystanders they’d not want to interrupt any attempt they might make.

Calli waited by the desk, ready to sweet talk any guards that might turn up, while the men formed a line and cautiously ascended the spiral staircase to the next level. They found various dead customers scattered around the building, no sign of life, and returned to the ground floor. Calli was certain they’d been left as patsies. Travis put forward the idea the woman might still be there, hoping they’d break into the vault for her. Everyone felt this was highly plausible.

Very low, Calli started hearing strange whispers. She warned Rune to stay quiet, and sent the lyrakien to go investigate down the stacks. She fluttered off, and after a few moments Calli heard a tiny squeak. The whispering intensified, and her stomach turned. She warned the others, who began taking precautionary measures in case of a fight. The men started hearing the whispering, too, but couldn’t make out the words.

Calli started to understand. Hissing voices asked, “Do you seek the one who was lost?”

She replied, asking who was lost, saying she’d be happy to help if she knew more. The whispering voices all spoke in unison- Eli- and then continued with the slightly overlapping messages. Asking if she sought the one who was lost, if she sought power. Calli recalled the rumour that The Cult of the Lost was seen headed into Kaer Maga, and deduced this must be them. The hissing promised her power if she’d join them, power to help find the one who was lost. She replied that she didn’t seek power, but she was interested in helping spread the word to find their missing person.

The men asked what they’d said to her. When Calli learned the men couldn’t understand the words, and getting no replies to further questions she asked of the voices, she instead chose to start singing a bardic countersong. The urge to help look vanished. The whispering had been weaving a spell on her, enticing her, but against her clear notes the spell was broken.

Travis encouraged them all to move on to the vault while they could. Moving as a group, they returned to the door, and while the other three kept watch Nightingale and Taylan began studying the magical defenses on the door. Taylan’s attempt to dispel magic on the intricate lock failed, so Nightingale took a practical approach. He tied some rope to the spoked handle, and after they’d all moved back, he pulled. To their relief it hadn’t been bolted, and the wheel turned easily, but in doing so a large golden force field sprung up around the vault in a massive dome, with them just inside the circumference.

Two new doors appeared set into the circular door, one glowing light and one dark shadow. A voice rang out. “Two doors lie before you. One door will allow you to enter the vault, through the other you will be attacked. You may ask one question of one of the guardians of the doors. One of them always lies, two always tell the truth, and one sometimes lies and sometimes tells the truth.” Four armored guards, each garbed in a different color- blue, green, red, and yellow- appeared between them and the doors.

The red knight spoke in a hollow voice, “The green knight is more truthful than the yellow knight.”

The blue knight spoke next, “The yellow knight is always truthful.”

The yellow knight added, “The red knight is always truthful.”

The green knight did not move or speak. The original voice commanded them to ask their question, and choose their door.

Byron, Calli, and Travis had flashbacks to the simpler version of this task they’d faced in Desna’s library, and tried to remember the way they’d worked out the truth of it then. The party began discussing possible strategies. As they debated, they noticed more women dressed in black, all vielled, approaching from down the many aisles. They were still hissing, and each carried a silver dagger. To their surprise, the women stopped outside the golden barrier. Whether it was because they couldn’t cross, or they were simply waiting for the vault to be opened, made no difference. The party carried on. With Nightingale’s aid, they decided to ask the green knight which the safe door was. Silently it pointed at the door of light. As Byron moved towards it, all four of the guards put their hands on their swords, but as he turned the handle they disappeared in puffs of appropriately-colored smoke. The vault clicked open.

The women screamed, raised their daggers, and sliced through the air. The air distorted, and rips appeared in reality. Monsters poured in from other dimensions, horrific nightmare creatures of many types and sizes. From above they heard a voice cry, “Now!” Invisibility dropped off three figures on the level above, revealing a human covered in runes wearing clerical robes, a drooling simpleton, and a full-sized bear wearing armor. The Flowers recalled seeing them in the market the previous day. The bear jumped over the railing, landed on the floor between one of the women and a massive star-spawn of Cthulu- a creature with dragonic wings and a tentacled mouth, and declared, “I bloody hate witches!”

Nightingale slammed one of his hands on the ground and summoned his black tentacles on a pack of goblins that had dropped in through one of the tears, and the witch who had caused it. The tentacles crushed the goblins, killing them all in one go. The woman hissed angrily from the grasp of the tentacles.

The cleric gestured at one of the monsters, a two-headed giant Ettin, and recited holy words that caused it to implode. The drooling man beside him pawed at his cloak and asked to hold his hand. “Not now, Gumpy,” the cleric shook him off.

Taylan cast a fireball into the crowd of monsters, and they were pleased to see it went through the golden forcefield and struck true. Flames scorched the otyughs and one of the witches, and as she screamed in pain the creatures she’d called forth through her tear seemed to flicker, as if they remained by her concentration alone.

Seeing the chaos around her and knowing time was short, she launched into an inspirational tune and ran into the vault. Inside were numerous shelves, and like within the shop, they were crowded with items of every sort. Ghostly disembodied hands moved items between shelves, and an empty pair of hands swooped down to hover before her. “Chain of returning,” she said, and a hand zipped off into the stacks. “Sliver of the Dauntless,” she added, and the other hand darted off in another direction.

The otyughs near Taylan lashed out at him in revenge for the fire. One got him wrapped in its meaty tentacle and pulled him up to its filthy mouth, and bit into his shoulder.

The talking bear laid into the biggest enemy. He and the star-spawn seemed evenly matched. They took great chunks out of each other that even other monsters around them stepped aside to avoid.

An insectoid Mygo like ones they’d seen in the battle beneath Kaer Maga tried to slice open Byron’s guts, but he leaned back just in time, and the large, curved blade left only a thin red line under his breastplate where it grazed the skin.

A hungry fog poured through a tear and reached dark tendrils towards Byron’s small house drake Focker. As they touched him, he let out a pained gasp, and it seemed as if his very life was being drained from him. He flew shakily into the vault after Calli to get away from immediate danger, as he didn’t feel he could take much more. A ghostly hand appeared to him, and he asked if there was any healing in the vault. The hand took off into the shelves. He cast a cure light wounds on himself, for good measure.

The woman in black who watched her ettin implode glared up at the cleric and threw her dagger at him. It lodged in his side, before vanishing and reappearing in her hand.

Nightingale and Travis were targeted by nightgaunts, faceless flying creatures with prehensile tails, and though they drew blood on Travis they were unable to keep hold on his sturdy frame.

The half-orc knew the witches were the biggest threats, and chose to wield his great axe against the monster harrying Nightingale, instead of himself, to free the magus up to go after one of the women. With an upward stroke he knocked the creature off-balance, and then bringing it down again he severed it in two. Travis took a few steps backwards towards the vault, ducking a swipe from the other nightgaunt as he moved.

Byron rushed past the Mygo, unsheathed his claws, and pounced one of the women in black. His first strike bashed the dagger out of her hand, and his second buried his claw directly into her heart. Her hissing became gurgles, and she dropped lifeless at his feet. The tear she’d created, and the Mygo summoned through, vanished.

Nightingale hasted himself, and by leaping off the end of a shelving unit dodged around one of the otyugh’s to plunge his rapier into the back of the witch Taylan had burned. Her hissing was cut short, and as she fell her tear and the two otyugh’s also disappeared.

The cleric shifted his focus to one of the remaining women, who imploded and took her tear with her.

Taylan created another fireball, hitting the star-spawn and the witch responsible. She was reduced to ash, and the hungry fog vanished.

The ghostly hands returned to Calli, bringing her the chain and a small vial with a sliver of wood within. She took them and rushed them out the vault door to where Travis was waiting.

The bear and the star-spawn continued their brutal struggle, knocking items off shelves as the fought causing uncanny choruses of “I hope you’re going to pay for that.”

Four witches remained. One failed to break free of Nightingale’s tentacle spell, two were holding concentration on their summons, and the last hurled her dagger at Taylan. It buried itself into his stomach before returning to her grip.

The final nightgaunt flapped forward to menace Travis further, but Travis was ready for it, and swinging his axe like a bat sent the nightgaunt careening into the open vault door with a clang. It fell into a heap, twitched once more, and died. The barbarian then took and tucked away the items Calli offered before picking back up his ax and going after the dagger-throwing witch. He had to exit through the golden dome, and he felt a strange sensation as some of the magic of his items were suppressed. He buried his axe in the woman’s spine, and had to use a booted foot against her back to pull it back out again. She collapsed, dead, and her dagger vanished. Travis asked if Byron and Nightingale had felt that when they passed through, and they confirmed going through the force field had muted anything cast upon them, but that it hadn’t stopped them killing their targets.

They worked out it must be a safeguard function of the vault- they’d assumed a magic user would be trying to steal from it- so the golden dome was a powerful dispel magic that would make the perpetrator easier to apprehend for a time.

Byron stalked over to one of the witches concentrating on her monsters and with two nasty slashes into her torso broke her focus. The star-spawn vanished.

Inside the vault a ghostly hand returned to Focker with a healing potion, which he gratefully chugged, and asked for another.

Nightingale, seeing most of the threats neutralized, turned back to the witch still held within his tentacles and threw a fireball in her direction. As the flames surrounded her, the tentacles ripped her limb from limb.

Above them the rune-marked man gestured at one of the remaining women in black. Just as he’d done before, he caused her to implode on the spot.

Taylan looked at the witch Byron had attacked and his eyes flashed with the laser beams of his magic missile. She had only been hanging on by a thread, and at this final attack joined her cult sisters as an unmoving corpse.

The bear let out a joyful warcry. “Doesn’t that feel good, eh? Rippin’ apart a few witches?”

Byron let out a triumphant growl. The bear appreciated it, “Ohh that sounded strong! You want ta wrestle?”

The Korvosan Bear perked up, “Wrestle?” and hopped over one of the dead witches to approach the actual bear for some roughhousing.

Nightingale chuckled, “You know he’s a bear as well.”

“I’m the Bear!” Byron the Korvosan Bear declared.

“Whose a bear? You’re not a bear. I’m a bear!” said the actual bear.

The runed man floated down from above, once more holding the hand of the drooling man by his side. He landed, and walked up to Travis. “That sliver, I’m afraid we need that.”

“Why’d you need that, mate?” Travis asked.

“It’s a long story. Have you heard of Captain Smith?”

“Yeah, I’m wearing his armor. I’m trying to find his ship, The Dauntless.”

“Funny that, I used to adventure on it. I’m Smith’s good friend, you see, and-” suddenly the cleric turned his head as if hearing something, and then said, “Excuse me.” He began praying, loudly and with wide gestures, to a goddess none of them recognized the name of. It only took a minute, after which he apologized for the interruption. “Before I forget, does anyone need healing?” A couple mentioned they had minor wounds, so he touched some of the runes on his skin, they flashed with a blue light, and everyone was good as new.

“So what’s this, then? I need this sliver so I can summon The Dauntless, but you say you need it?” Travis got them back on the subject.

“Ah, bit of trouble, that,” the bear said. “It ran aground, lost a few planks and splinters in the crash, and now it’s not travelling anywhere. But if we can get it put back together, you see, it might be able to get moving again.” The bear went on to say that they had a pretty good idea where the boat was, but they didn’t think the party would be safe to go with them right away, as they still seemed a bit inexperienced, and they’d be travelling through Hell. Actual Hell. The bear promised to put in a good word for them with the ship, though.

Travis made a face, “A good word for me with the ship?”

The cleric nodded, “It’s a living ship.”

“So I give you this, you fix The Dauntless, and I’ll be able to summon it?” Travis held out the tube with the splinter inside, and the cleric took it with his free hand and pocketed it.

“That’s the idea! Right, Kevril, I think we should get moving,” the bear took Gumpy’s hand from Kevril so the cleric had both for casting. Before the Flowers could ask anything else, the cleric had opened a gate, the three stepped through it, and they were gone.

They didn’t have any time to process what had happened before they heard the front door burst open and people filing in. They turned and put their hands up as guards and people wearing arcanist’s robes filed through the stacks and surrounded them. At the front of the charge was Captain Fenris.

Calli stepped forward and exclaimed, “Thank the gods! I am SO glad you’re here!” she went on to explain they were there to do their shopping, as they’d told him the day before, when these horrible witches arrived and began killing everyone.

Fenris turned to one of the head arcanists, “Cult of the Lost, I told you I saw them.” He set the guards to work retrieving bodies, and the arcanists began busily spreading out through the shop to assess the damages. Because The Flowers had clearly defended the vault from the witches, the arcanists agreed to let them purchase their items at half price. The party each made some additional choices, but this did make a few of them regret having spent so much at Ramplin’s the day before, and a couple of them regreted not having actually written into the ledger that they’d already purchased their items when they had the chance. Calli caught one of the arcanists and quietly handed over the white dragon scales she’d taken and put in an order to turn them into something wearable. The shopkeeper promised to have it ready by morning, a special rush delivery.

The Flowers agreed to stay the extra day. Byron made another visit to Ramplin’s to acquire himself a bow, Smiler showed the party more of the town, and then they went to get lodgings for the night, but the Golden Aurochs refused them entry. They returned to the Worm Pit. Calli purchased two cheaper rooms there, and as she and Nightingale were walking back to the party she tried to find a way to explain the sleeping arrangements for the night. Gale silently let her fumble over her words, enjoying the unusual sight of the bard so flustered, playing dumb to what she implied, until finally she handed him a key and said, “You’ll be sleeping with Taylan and Travis again tonight.” He tipped his hat, and made a mental note to talk to Byron in private if he got a chance.