Sunday, September 14. 2008Tana Keln
Author's Note:Previous Entry
After prying Harcrit away from his latest admirer, we found a shop to purchase some ink and parchment so I could make copies of the symbols on our map. We asked an obliging merchant if she recognized the symbol with the sickle and crown. I'm not sure if I have an accent from Amn or if the uneducated masses of the Sword Coast just lack general comprehension but she stared at me like an idiot before pronouncing, "The Sickle and Crown's on the other side of town. Nasty place, wouldn't recommend it." Along with some inane chatter, she also told us of some run-down formerly-well-to-do hiring out for bodyguards. I wasn't particularly interested, and the rest of the group seemed pretty intent on finding the map's next clue, so we made our way in the general direction the merchant had indicated. After stumbling around for a while, we found ourselves in a part of Six Ways that was well past its prime. Not seeing any inns nearby, we decided to stop and ask for directions. A singularly hale old woman directed us more to the west and we eventually ran across a cheerful young lad who looked like he might guide us to The Sickle and Crown. I indicated to Harcrit that after his success winning over Garth, perhaps he should take the lead in this exchange and he had the gall to look insulted. I'm considering making off with his helmet some time to examine it for latent enchantments that might cause a reduction in reasoning capabilities. Our young guide's name is Kip and in a happy quirk of fate, his place of employment coincides with our destination. He led us to an unsavory tavern and upon entering, we were greeted with the suspicious glares of unwashed locals. Finding myself in yet another uncomfortable environment, I decided to take quick action and approached the tavern keeper in hopes he could identify the next symbol on our map. Upon viewing my carefully transcribed scroll, he spat rudely upon the floor (possibly in an effort to clean it?) and gestured in a northerly direction. Happy to leave, I took it on faith that I'd be much happier to the north, regardless of whether it actually had something to do with our map. Sol felt similarly, and as we made our exit, I heard Venn making an attempt to earn the friendship of the various louts and layabouts wasting their coppers and time in that wretched place.
Kip led us to the local temple of Ilmater (silly me, not recognizing his holy symbol on our map) where Sol introduced himself as a fellow man of the cloth to a Brother Grunson who mistook us for janitorial staff sent from their superiors. Apparently they've got a real problem with sewage and some undead in one of the crypts. I deduced that this might be an excellent place to continue our search to the end of the map, and Sol agreed to go back with me for the others. But not before I recovered a lovely pink dress the kind brothers had retrieved from the filth. A quick spell later, I had the makings of a fabulous new outfit. Unfortunately, I would have to take it to the tailor first. . .I think it was fitted for an elf. We re-entered the Sickle and Crown to find Venn had indeed made himself some friends. Sol and I surreptitiously suggested that joining us outside might be to their benefit, but once the five of us were reunited, a sudden, burning need arose to investigate the bodyguard employment opportunity we'd heard about. Seeing no alternative at this point, I agreed to accompany the rest of the group. We arrived at the Brant estate and were greeted by yet another example of uncouthness. Brant's maid would have been relegated to afterthought in any Calimshan harem, but her deportment suggested she was entitled here far beyond her station. Whatever the case, she shut her master's door in our face after a brief exchange regarding the posted employment opportunity. Undeterred, my companions knocked again and this time were greeted by the shabby old man himself. The crotchety old grump led us around his parlor complaining of filched items and his missing daughter, Elara. After examining her room for clues, I pulled out the lovely number I'd recovered from Ilmater's finest, and he had the temerity to demand I return his property. Ha! As if I'd roll over on my belly for him like some beaten-down cur. I told him he could have it back for fair market value and he attempted to assault me. The nerve! My loyal and much beefier companions put a stop to that; I informed them I'd be waiting outside while they worked out a contract for the return of his no doubt, much happier away from home spawn. For all I know, he wanted the dress for himself to prance around in at night. He seemed the type. Once the others concluded their negotiations with Herr Brant, we agreed to merge our investigations by inspecting the crypt the long-suffering priests had mentioned. An idea struck me as we asked Kip to lead us back to the temple. I inquired about his level of understanding of the lockpicking art and he indicated that he knew enough to get by in a rough spot. Seeing no reason not to bring along someone with that skill-set, I invited him to join us in exploring the cause of these two mysteries. Though he lost a little color at the mention of the dead walking, he gamely agreed to aid us. We returned to the temple and Brother Grunson led us to the cemetery where I managed to soil my boots in the muck. The good priest kindly agreed to aid us with a spell to let us walk above the waste and we went to explore the crypt where the pink dress had been found. We were unable to determine the source and decided to wait through the night for the undead. Big mistake. While we camped under the stars, the priests were attacked inside the thick walls of their sanctuary. Unfortunately, all that suffering must have lessened their ability to cry for help, as we were unable to hear their screams. We were of course accused of the most unseemly behavior the next morning when the priests discovered us camping in their backyard. It was really infuriating, but I will admit I failed to properly investigate the possibility of catacombs within the building. We decided to rest at the Sickle and Crown before returning to venture into the depths. I happily took the time to work on my spells and felt much more like myself upon returning to Ilmater's lackeys. We crawled around underneath the temple for a while, enjoying the lovely decor of strewn bones and gnawed-on skeletons. Chlorine tracked the chaos back to a hole leading to a lower level, so we dropped a rope through and went down to explore. It didn't take long for creatures of the night to find us. We dispatched a pack of dire rats and took a break to recover our strength. No doubt there is only worse to come. Trackbacks
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