Game summary for October 4, 2007; present characters included Ashkor (lizardfolk barbarian/battle sorcerer/dragon disciple/fighter), Iapetus Hasur (hu-charad giant rogue/scout/vigilante), Lady Aridarye Phylund Brokengulf (human aristocrat/harbinger/ranger cohort), Lyrin Sinbal (simian incantatrix/ring sage/warmage), Morak Beardfist (shield dwarf fighter/rage cleric), Stormwind Abthek (illumian soulknife), and Taravin Truesilver (human gray guard/paladin of honor).
A few hours after defeating the spellweaver lich, the party heard a tremendous crash that shook the entire temple. As they went to investigate, they discovered all the Kyuss worms were gone. In addition, the preserved bodies had all begun to rot. They found the doorway they had yet to open was standing agape and any occupants gone.
Outside, the Mercenaries discovered the Spire of Long Shadows had toppled and shattered the obsidian ring. No longer did teeming worms surround the Spire. Anything that had survived the party’s temple raid had apparently fled through the opening before the party could get back to the surface. With nothing remaining for them here, the Mercenaries returned to Longsaddle via the magic of their dwarven priest, Beardfist.
Once in Longsaddle, the team took little time contacting Cymria and Malchor Harpell. They found the Harpells had discovered some new leads indicating Balakarde had gone to Mintarn to investigate the origin of the cult of the Ebon Triad. Utilizing Malchor’s mystic paintings once again, the Mercenaries transported to the church of Kelemvor in the center of Mintarn. Within minutes they were discussing the clues they had gathered with the high priest, Long Sleep Bradic Scytheswing. He told them what he could about the city, its rulerTyrant Tarnheel Embuirhan, and Lashonna, an elven noblewoman Balakarde had sought out.
The streets of Mintarn proved a bustling, exciting place filled with men, halfbreeds, goblinoids and more. All around the city seemed in preparation for some sort of festival. A nearby man was able to tell them about a gala and celebration coming in a week for Tyrant Tarnheel Embuirhan’s 20th year of rule. Banners, emblazoned with the symbol of Bane, and other decorations flapped in the wind everywhere one cared to look. This gala appeared to be a big event in Mintarn. After taking all this in, the group continued on toward Mistwall Manor, home of Lashonna. As they moved through the market, they witnessed a priest of Bane publicly hanging three accused members of the Ebon Triad. The crowd cheered and shouted “death to the Ebon Triad” as the bodies spasmed and jerked on the ends of their ropes. It seems justice is swift and harsh under the thumb of Tyrant Embuirhan!
An obstacle was found at Mistwall Manor. No one could see Lashonna for at least two months; however, Taravin was able to discover the noblewoman would be in attendance at the Tyrant’s personal gala. Someone with an invitation would certainly have opportunity to speak with her there. Armed with this knowledge, the team decided it was time to delve into Mintarn’s black market.
The search began at the seediest of Mintarn’s wealth of seedy establishments, an inn dubiously titled Medusa’s Bastard. Inside was a riot of drinking, gambling, womanizing and wanton disregard for propriety. All around stood men and women of questionable repute, from pirates, bandits, mercenaries, drunkards, whores, cutthroats, and even worse. The group sidled up to the bar and encountered a peg-legged half-orc wearing an eye patch and missing two fingers on his left hand. He introduced himself as the bartender, Lucky. Taravin paid for several rounds of drink with gold coin, which drew immediate attention from everyone in the establishment. After talking to Lucky for a minute, he agreed to get them in touch with a black market dealer in exchange for 50 gp. Aridarye slipped a pouch of coin to the brute, and he gave them instructions to go to room 7 upstairs in 10 minutes.
Upstairs, the Mercenaries met Szentarr Ravin and his two half-orc goons. The half-orcs were ugly masses of muscle, scar, tattoo, and tusk wearing breastplate armor and carrying gigantic greataxes. Stormwind winked at one of the half-orcs, and much to his horror, it smiled at him and showed a bit of lace under its armor. The future of this romance is yet to be seen. The goons allowed one person to come into the room with Szentarr. The choice was between Aridarye and Taravin, and the group opted to send in the smooth-tongued, not-so-by-the-book paladin.
Szentarr turned out to be a middle-aged dwarf with a bald head and a gray-speckled black beard braided down to his stomach and ending with a small skull. The skull could be from a halfling or a goblin. Szentarr did, indeed, have invitations, but he was not willing to simply sell them for just gold. He tasked Taravin with telling tales of the Mercenaries’ misadventures to make sure they were the kinds of people the Tyrant would enjoy having at his gala. Szentarr was particularly amused by the party’s involvement in the calamity in Waterdeep (a rival city). That alone likely would have gained them entrance. For a mere 500 gp per person, Szentarr handed over invitations for the group. Then, Taravin decided that selling some unholy weapons recovered from Kuluth-Mar would go a long way for funding their efforts to fight the great evil, Kyuss. For most paladins this would be unthinkable, but Taravin’s gray guard training allowed him to dabble in a bit of darkness for a greater good.
After the transaction with the dwarven merchant, Szentarr mentioned that he runs a large entertainment and goods procurement operation called the Deluxury. He invited the party to come by and let him earn back some of the gold he had traded for the unholy weapons.
Now the Mercenaries are armed with invitations to a high-class noble gala in a week. How will these adventurers fit in with the upper crust of Mintarn? What will they do in the seven days’ time between now and then?
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