Chapter 22
After wrapping up with the city guard at Waffle Wizards, the group walks over to Dolly’s Donuts to give them the news. Dolly and her crew are happy to have things get back to normal and Fred, the chef, reveals his latest baked creation. “I call this a lunch donut.” He lays a tray on the table that is full of round pastries with holes in the middle, but the bread looks different, it glistens as though it’s been polished. Grindlefoot grabs one from the tray and seems to enjoy the flavor. “The outside is crisp, like a crust, and the inside is much thicker than a usual donut. Tasty! I think some sort of creamy spread would pair well with these.” Fred appears pleased, with a slight smile creeping onto his face.
It’s reaching mid-afternoon and the group heads back to the Broken Spy Glass. When they arrive, they debrief with Tella and discover that Rightside has been following them. A testament to his skills that they didn’t notice. They lay low for the rest of the afternoon; the previous night and this morning were eventful, to say the least.
They reconvene in the common room for dinner to find it bustling with a wide variety of customers. Some are obviously well off, although not so much so that they don’t still prefer a good deal over flaunting their wealth. Many of them appear to be laborers, enjoying a dinner and drink out with friends and some entertainment. It’s a calm, yet joyful and happy crowd.
After dinner, Gven tells the others, “I’m going for a stroll. Might head over to the Job Distribution Center and have a casual look around. Looking for opportunities, not trouble.” Bilwin is eyeballing the stage, sizing up the lute player and says, “I’m going to stay here. These fine folk deserve some real entertainment and I’m just the lean, handsome, well-dressed dwarf to give it to them!” Mond, Dolor, and Grindlefoot agree to walk with Gven.
Leaving the Broken Spy Glass, they pass through the marketplace. Just as busy as it was during the daytime, it’s transformed into a cornucopia of festive delights. There’s a celebratory feeling with lights strung overhead, draping across the booths and aisles, and people laughing with their friends over the day’s events. There are still plenty of ways to spend your hard-earned coin, although the purchases might bring a little more immediate pleasure than the items sold during the day.
It’s not long before they pass into the Sliver, which is quieter than the market, but still bustling with people. Most seem to be headed in the same direction as the adventurers. As the group nears the JDC, Grindlefoot subtly casts Pass without Trace to help conceal them from anyone who might be looking too closely.
They begin hearing the sounds of sword fighting, along with the jeers and cheers of a crowd. Entering the open area surrounded by buildings, including the JDC, two men are sword fighting on an elevated stage in the center. One is younger and dressed like a sailor, while the other is significantly older with the scars to prove his experience. He has a lengthy beard that is thrown over his shoulder and held in place by a decorative weight tied to the end. The young sailor over-extends himself with a blustery swing of his sword. His opponent bends backwards enough to avoid the blade and deftly disarms the younger man with his own sword. He then forcefully turns his head and upper body, causing the weight at the end of his beard to swing around, over his shoulder, and clobber his opponent upside the head. The sailor goes down quickly, to the roar of the crowd. With the end of the fight, money begins to change hands amongst everyone and the older man collects his winnings from the unofficial referee.
As the crowd begins to disperse, Gven and the others quietly and cautiously walk around the Job Distribution Center, appearing to be nonchalantly killing time before heading home—or wherever their next destination might be. They can see signs of light inside, but the windows are covered enough that they can’t make out any details. From Dolor’s experienced eye, the windows on the ground floor are impenetrable, they’re not designed to be opened.
Realizing they can’t glean much more information, the four conceal themselves amongst the remaining crowd. They notice three figures emerge from the front door. One is the woman that Dolor spoke to the previous day and she’s accompanied by two large guards.
Dolor quietly says, “Let’s split up. Gven and I will follow them. You two,” he looks at Grindlefoot and Mond, “try to keep pace with them and maybe get ahead on the side streets.”
Within a few blocks, Grindlefoot and Mond realize that it’s difficult to quietly get ahead of someone when you don’t know their destination. Besides, they suddenly find themselves lost. With a sigh, Mond says, “We should head back to the Broken Spy Glass. They’ll meet us back there when they’re done.”
Meanwhile, Gven and Dolor are able to follow the three from a distance and remain unseen, despite a few lapses in Gven’s stealthiness. They head towards the Scrivener’s Ward and wind up close to the city’s entrance, amongst large buildings that are ornately decorated and give a definitive sense of wealth. The three figures approach one of the three story buildings, pause to look back towards the street as they open the grand front door, and then enter. The two large columns on either side of the door are each decorated with a gilded sashe, unlike the other nearby buildings.
Returning to the Broken Spy Glass, Dolor and Gven learn that the other two were quickly lost in the streets, unable to track the three targets.
Tella has been able to get some more information about Davanor. Apparently he’s a new Damian in the city and has made his presence known with aggressive growth. The other Damians aren’t happy about the sudden rise in stature, nor are they quite certain how he accomplished it so quickly. Yet Davanor hasn’t tried to extend his territory and so the others are hesitant to create a stir, which could be violent and expensive for everyone.
Tella heard of a half-orc that sounds close to Torp’s description, but doesn’t have any details, only that he worked some security details. He’ll continue to ask around.
His sources did reveal that Davanor works out of a warehouse down by the docks and it might be worth investigating.
The goons that started the fight with Rightside were bailed out of custody and revived, implying that they’re fairly important or that Davanor has plenty of coin to spend. The one that Tella kept as a prisoner didn’t reveal anything, a sign that Davanor’s employees are loyal, for one reason or another. Tella will make his memories fuzzy and let him go sometime soon. Grindlefoot plucks a feather out of his cap, mumbles a few words, and hands it to Tella with the request to put it in the man’s pocket.
Long rest….
The group wakes to a quiet morning in the Broken Spy Glass’ common room. While eating their breakfast, Tella expresses his concern that Davanor might connect them to him—and the Heart of the People, by proxy. He thinks it would be best to throw them out of his inn, to make Davanor and his people think otherwise. The group sees the wisdom in this and asks where they should go. Fortunately, Tella has an associate who captains a ship called the Iron Vulture, that’s currently docked and has room for boarders.
About this time, Bilwin decides to pull out his hurdy-gurdy and fails to do much more than pluck strings in new ways to irritate the human ear drums. Tella seizes the opportunity and begins yelling, “You and that damnable piece o’ junk ye call a musical instrument…OUT! Out of my inn right this instant, ye good-fer-nuthin fake bard! Begone wit ya!”
Quickly grabbing their belongings, the group exits the front door, along with Rightside, their guide to the wonders of Elsemar. They slowly make their way to the docks, wanting to seem like they didn’t quite know where to go after being kicked out of the Broken Spy Glass.
Finally making their way to the docks, ambling along the waterfront, they notice a two-masted fishing vessel and the bow’s figurehead is carved into a vulture’s head. Dolor notices that the beak is made of iron and says, “I think we’ve found home, at least for now.”
The captain peers over the railing at them and loudly shouts, “Ye need a place tae berth? A’m the cap’n, Don Karnahge. Whit’s that on yer back, fella?” He looks toward Bilwin, eyeing the hurdy-gurdy slung across his shoulders.
“I’m a renowned bard and musician, kind sir. Bilwin the Magnificent, at your service.” He bows deeply, well, as deep as his beard and mostly full mug of beer will allow.
They board the ship and get settled in, spreading out between two small cabins and the common room. Bilwin eagerly tunes his hurdy-gurdy as Cap’n Don looks on with excitement.
While Bilwin and the captain are in the common room, the rest of the adventurers move topside to scope out the area and find Davanor’s warehouse. They’re able to see it down the waterfront, within eyesight, but not so close that they’re overly concerned about being watched or seen by the occupants.
Dolor climbs the taller mast and using Cap’n Don’s spyglass, is able to see a a shipment of crates arrive at the warehouse. Two large guards are on either side of the door, monitoring the crates being delivered. They don’t hide that they’re not to be messed with, looking around the docks with intimidating gazes daring anyone to mess with them or the deliveries.
They head below deck to discuss their plans in private, to the sounds of Bilwin’s hurdy-gurdy and Cap’n Don’s musical enthusiasm.