Excerpted from the journal of Etaf Gerin
July 30, 1377 (The Year of the Haunting)
Today we left the keep, headed
to Waterdeep by way of the portal into the dwarven
guild house. Dreiw did not say goodbye. I can only
hope that she grows more willing to stay in safety as time goes on. Losing her
again is a fear that I cannot face.
The dwarves welcomed us as old
friends – in no small part due to the amount of gold we’d spent on their
services in the last months, I am sure. The appearance of BadAxe
as an extremely tall and exotic dwarven woman probably didn’t hurt, either.
We have two days until
Midsummer. Soon we will learn what task the Order of Aster would set before us.
August 1, 1377 (Midsummer
None of the magic stored I
visited in the last two days have bloodroot. Apparently it is an illegal
substance here, due to effects it has when ingested. Vampires are particularly
fond of it, it seems. Perhaps this vampire-hunting order of Francis’ will be
more useful than I’d expected.
In the last two days, my
companions have no been idle. Omiata particularly has found some interesting
information. It seems the Xanathar Guild, an
organization of thieves and rogues, has been driven outside the walls into Skullport. We will need to be careful here – our ‘freelance
adventurer’ lifestyle may not be looked upon kindly by a government that would
drive out its own thieves’ guild.
Francis brought us all to the
Spires of Morning to meet with Corinna Lathanken. The Spires are an impressive work of
architecture, I must admit. Religious shows are not something I take seriously,
but even I felt as if the sun god’s presence was in that place. Lathlander’s adherents built well.
I forgot about the building
when we met Corinna. Surely this was a kindred
spirit! I could feel the power she wielded from the moment I laid eyes on her.
I sensed both arcane and divine power in this beautiful High Moon Elf. Perhaps
an opportunity would come when I might ask to study with her, to learn the
arcane knowledge she commands.
Corinna asked Francis to investigate one Lord Orplar, a
nobleman who had been dealing drugs – including bloodroot, which is what had
drawn her attention in the first place. Vampires are supposed to be rare in Waterdeep, but bloodroot has been moving through town in
large quantities. Some kind of larger conspiracy seems likely.
Our time with Corinna is too short for any extraneous conversation. I
hope that if we are successful in this task, she may look favorably on a chance
to study with her.
August 2, 1377
Lord Orplar spends a good
amount of time in an inn called the Grinning Lion, so we went there to find
him. After a boring few hours, he finally put in an appearance – and was
immediately mobbed by practically every customer in the place. Getting a chance
to speak with him would be more difficult than we anticipated.
We were spared any further
waiting, however, by the appearance of a stunning dark-haired woman, who
entered the inn and immediately headed toward Orplar. Like a queen she moved
through the crowd, and no one dared stand in her way. Upon reaching Orplar, her
expression hardened, and she shouted in a commanding voice, “Orplar of Waterdeep, you are the prey of the High Hunt! We begin
now!”
Several seconds of stunned
silence followed this pronouncement, the shock of the words leaving everyone
speechless. Then an animal growling filled the room. From within the crown,
nine werewolves moved toward Orplar! It seems they had been hiding in human
form, waiting for the woman’s entrance. Orplar, though, was prepared. Before
anyone could react, he took a potion from his pocket, drank, and then ran out
the door, moving almost faster than the eye could follow!
The wolves, faster than human reactions,
sped after the fleeing nobleman. The woman turned to do the same, but Ahmed had
other plans. “Stand, witch!” he shouted as he blocked her path. “No Malarite crossed my path and lives!”
“He is right!” called Francis
as the rest of us hesitated. “The Hunt she named is a ritual of Malar, and purely evil. It is our duty to stop her!”
That was enough for Helios and
BadAxe. Together with the ranger, they attacked.
Their best blows, though, seemed to do little damage. Seeing this, Francis
called on magical means. Drawing on Lathlander’s
light, he sent a ray of sunlight directly into the woman’s face. She screamed,
a sound of pure agony, and then vanished into a cloud of dust!
“Vampire.” Ahmed grunted. “Good riddance. Now
for our real quarry.” He turned and rushed out the door, following the
track of Orplar and the wolves.
The rest of us quickly
followed – though not so quickly that Omiata did not find time to relieve Orplar’s helpers of a good sum of gold. Outside, Ahmed
tracked the chase into a sewer. We all descended into the smelly tunnel.
Details of the trek through
those tunnels are something I’d rather not dwell upon. Suffice it to say that
despite encounters with an ooze, an undead beholder,
and a powerful wizard, we managed to track Orplar to his home. He had clearly
planned this well in advance, with an escape route from the inn through the
sewers to his own house. But he had no reckoned on our tenacity in tracking him
down.
Seeing that he had no choice,
Orplar agreed to answer our questions. The bloodroot was being shipped to
someone named Artor Morin. Orplar had received his
order through an agent that wore the markings of a group known as the Red Dawn.
He was to return in two days, back at the Grinning Lion. We were more than
welcome to come and speak with this agent.
Having no other leads, we
decided to wait for this agent. After a good wash and change of clothes, needed
after our sewer adventure, we settled in to wait.
Things that were said and probably shouldn’t be
repeated, but what the heck:
Demetrius to Mike R.: “Turn Undead? Forget that, do you have Turn Hot
Chicks?”
Mike J.: “He’s had that his whole life.”
Demetrius: “So what, exactly,
does the ranger do in this group?”
Chop: “There will come a time
when you will lick my hairy nutsack!”
Dave R.: “I bet your mom’s
proud to hear that.”
Last updated 03-22-2006 by Skip Franklin