Whydah covered a yawn with her palm, gazing off the deck at an overcast morning. The sky threatened more rain, and an occasional rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance, above the dripping trees. Iskvold let out a groan, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose as she joined her friend.
“I think I had too much wine last night. That Gonddamn jug never seems to run dry!”
Whydah laughed. “I have a feeling it will find its way into someone’s pack when we hit the road this morning.”
“I have no doubt!” Iskvold agreed. “I think I remember Lunish shifting into an octopus and climbing onto the roof at one point. That happened, right?”
The halfling laughed again. “It sure did. I’m not sure what was funnier, that, or Tsuta putting on the hat of disguise to do his Sifu Haft impression.”
The drow’s pink eyes narrowed. “Oh yeah! I forgot about that.”
“The way he waddled across the deck, hands behind his back, mustache twitching fiercely!” Whydah mimicked the bad monk’s pantomime from the evening before.
“Stop!” Iskvold begged, her hand cradling her head as she giggled. “My head is splitting, and laughing makes it worse! Anyone else up yet?”
The bard shook her head. “Not that I’ve seen, but I didn’t wander around inside the house; it’s very large and spread out. I’m sure the alcohol didn’t help either. I was just happy to find my way back here this morning.”
As she finished speaking, the door opened slowly, and Glynfir shuffled out of the house, his left wrist pinned tightly to his chest.
“Morning, Glynnie!” Whydah greeted him.
The wizard winced with each step, his face twisted with pain. “Morning. I think I dislocated my shoulder last night, somehow.”
“I don’t think there is any mystery there, Mustache,” Iskvold teased him. “You took a header off the deck. We tried to help you, but you were having none of it, swore you were fine.”
Bewilderment swept his facial features. “I don’t remember that at all. But it would explain why I found bits of white gravel in my ear this morning,” He mused.
Looking around, the wizard’s face brightened. “Lulu isn’t up yet? I can’t wait to rub it in how I was ready to go before she was!”
“Fat chance, Glynnie!” The gnome’s voice called from the garden before its owner strode into view, her eyes bright, and her pace brisk. “I’ve been up for over an hour, just communing a bit more with nature.” She gave Iskvold a wink.
Whydah admired the druid’s composure with incredulity. “Are you not hungover at all?”
Lunish shook her head. “Maybe the wildshape absorbs some of it, I don’t know,” she said idly, already reaching for Glynfir’s shoulder, green energy sparking from her fingertips. “Hold still!” she chided him.
The wizard braced himself on a chair with his good arm before Lunish released the spell. The magic’s euphoria swept through his body, resulting in an involuntary eruption of laughter. Immediately raising his newly socketed arm to his forehead, Glynfir’s mouth fell open. “I think you cured my hangover as well, Lulu—that’s brilliant!”
Iskvold’s eyebrows arched. “Really?” she turned to Lunish. “Can you do me next, please? I don’t want to hurl during the ride to Chagrothlond.”
The druid rolled her eyes and shook her head before stepping wordlessly to the drow and repeating the spell. When her latest patient began to giggle in satisfaction, she turned and cocked one eyebrow questioningly at Whydah.
The halfling held up her hands. “I’m okay, but thanks.”
“So, this is what we’ve been reduced to?” Segwyn’s voice echoed off the towering redwoods as he and Bird came around the corner of the house, leading the horses. “Using our magic to cure hangovers?”
“Don’t judge me!” Iskvold fired back, a smile on her face. “It’s in Lunish’s best interest that I don’t toss my cookies while riding on her back. I was really looking out for her!”
“Uh-huh.” Segwyn deadpanned before breaking into a grin. “Don’t worry.” He tipped his head toward Bird. “I took care of ours a few minutes ago in the stables.”
The drow backhanded him playfully on the shoulder.
“Anyone seen our bald friend yet this morning?” Bird asked. “We should get going soon.”
Blank looks and shaking heads preceded Segwyn exhaling a long breath and handing his reins to Bird. “I’ll go find him.” He said over his shoulder as he disappeared into the house. “Plus, I think there should be some breakfast for us.”
A minute later, the ranger reemerged carrying a fistful of linen bundles, with Tsuta in his wake.
“So, where was he?” Whydah asked curiously.
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Segwyn shook his head. “Counting the books in the library.”
Tsuta shrugged. “It’s a huge and confusing house. I ended up in the library and decided to sit tight. I knew one of you would come and get me eventually.”
The ranger distributed the linen breakfast bundles, and in short order, gear was packed, steeds were mounted, and the group trotted off through the wet overcast morning for the garrison town of Chagrothlond.
Like many of its contemporaries, Chagrothlond’s civilian population lived outside its walls. All manner of homes, pubs, and shops framed the fort’s open South Gate, bustling with the normal activities of a weekday afternoon as the group reached the outskirts. Horse-drawn livery carts dotted the sides of the main road, their contents in the process of being unpacked at final destinations.
The town was divided into named quarters, based on which wall of the fort provided the neighborhood backdrop. The eastern and western quarters were largely residential, with the town’s more affluent inhabitants preferring the quieter western side. By contrast, the southern and northern quarters held the concentration of the area’s commerce. The main road funneled finished goods north, with many waggoners carrying on through Stonebreach pass to the Siremirian river city of Irdri, while the traffic coming south consisted largely of produce and agricultural goods ultimately bound for Buhlent or Glahaneth.
“How do we find Ferrier in all this?” Iskvold asked aloud, her open hand circling the town’s bustle.
“We did our homework last time we were here,” Lunish offered, “and I know for a fact he’s not registered with the commerce council.”
“That reminds me, Lulu,” Glynfir interjected. “They’re probably still looking for us. We should keep a low profile, particularly around the guards.”
Lunish tossed her head, flicking the twin red braids over her shoulder. “They mistook me for a ‘grubby little boy’ the last time we were here. You’ll forgive me if I’m not shaking in my boots at their stunning powers of observation,” the gnome scoffed with a snort. “But you should change up your look, Glynnie, they may have a better memory for someone who took their money gambling. You couldn’t just lose a bit on purpose, could you?” she scolded.
The wizard shook his head, adding an eye roll. “That totally defeats the purpose of gambling entirely! Don’t worry, I’ve got a disguise spell ready just in case.”
“If he’s lying low, we’ll need to find him the old-fashioned way, beat the bushes and see what shakes out.” Segwyn mused, turning to the group. “Unless one of you has some magic that can help?”
Pensive looks gave way to silent head shakes before he spoke again. “Right, I suggest we split up. We’re one short of working in pairs…”
“Which part of town is the dodgiest?” Bird asked.
Glynfir answered immediately. “Definitely the north, it’s also called the wild quarter by the locals.”
The cat nodded. “I’ve got some personal business with the local guild that I need to see to. I’ll take that quarter on my own if you want to split up and cover the others?”
Quizzical looks didn’t prompt him to say anything more.
“You making a deposit?” Whydah whispered in his direction, drawing a subtle nod from the tabby in response.
“How about we mix it up a little to make ourselves less recognizable, maybe split up the monks and Lunish and Glynfir?” Segwyn suggested, breaking an uncomfortable moment of silence. “I can go with the wizard, Tsuta with Lunish, and Whydah with Iskvold? That way, every pair can also magically message the others.”
“Works for me,” Glynfir said before Tsuta and Lunish locked eyes with a shared nod.
Iskvold made a fist, offering it in Whydah’s direction without looking. “Roper and the Wheelwoman, together again!”
The halfling smiled, completing the fist bump. “I promise I’ll try not to lose you this time!”
Tsuta took the reins of the horses from the others, then turned back to Lunish. “I’ll drop them at the livery, then we can take this quarter, Braids?”
“Sure,” the gnome confirmed.
“East or West?” Segwyn asked Glynfir.
“Let’s go east,” The wizard confirmed.
“Great,” Whydah said. “We’ll take west.”
Segwyn pointed across the street towards a pub, where a wooden sign boasting a graphic image of a crushed orc head hung above the awning. “Meet here at the Smashed Skull, at, say, sundown?”
“Stay in touch, and whoever finds him, we converge on their position,” Bird reminded everyone. “Remember, we want to learn everything we can about the Crimson Dominion, the size of their network, how they operate, how they communicate with the Red Queen, anything that might help us figure out how to place an inside man or woman into the organization.”
Convinced everyone was clear on the objective, the tabby offered a final nod. “All right, I’m off to the wild quarter. Good luck, everyone!” Turning on his heel, Bird stepped across the busy road and disappeared into the crowd.
“What’s he up to?” Iskvold directed the question to Whydah, nodding in the direction of the cat’s disappearance. From the chorus of reactions, it was clear the rest shared her concern.
“What do you mean?” Whydah asked coyly, feigning confusion.
“Come on, Tiny,” Tsuta called the halfling out. “Personal business? Making a deposit? He’s been hyper-focused on getting to the bottom of this since the beginning, and all of a sudden, he’s distracted by a mysterious side quest. What gives?”
Whydah sized up the concerned faces for a long moment before taking a deep breath. “You can never tell him I told you,” she began hesitantly, pausing for reassurance. “He uses the Thieves Guild to send money back to his family.”
Lunish’s forehead wrinkled. “Why?”
“He feels guilty for making them flee Borenvale, give up everything after he pissed off a local lord. He left, thinking that would be the end of it, but instead they persecuted his family until they all fled to Midcalse, in Brieborn.” She shrugged. “So, whenever we’re in a town big enough to support the Guild, he deposits all his coin. They transfer it to their sister organization in Brieborn, where his mother picks it up.”
“That actually sounds really noble. Why wouldn’t he want us to know? Is he ashamed of what he did?” Iskvold wondered.
Whydah snorted. “Not at all. In fact, when we perform, he tells the whole story with pride. At this point, I know all the details by heart.” Her eyes shifted up and to the left, reflecting for a moment. “I think it’s an image thing. He comes across as this ruthless cutthroat burglar, and doesn’t want anyone to think otherwise.” She raised her eyebrows. “I think he’s afraid of looking weak or vulnerable.”
“I never noticed any of this when we were adventuring before,” Tsuta said. “How long has it been going on?”
“As long as I’ve known him,” Whydah admitted, “which is the other thing. They’ve had more than a year to get back on their feet, but they maintain they still need help, and he refuses to cut them loose. I think they’re exploiting his guilt at this point, but that’s another story.”
“Well, everyone’s got their reasons for doing what they do,” Segwyn stated, trying to end the gossip session. “We’re burning daylight standing around here. I suggest we get on with the task at hand—finding Garrett Ferrier and making him tell us everything he knows about the Dominion. Or do I need to remind you all that there’s a lich after us?”
Breaking into their assigned pairs, the group went their separate ways to scour the town in pursuit of their only lead.
The Glimmerstone Enigma and The Siremirian Conundrum?
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