Session 60

General Summary

• The party received a pardon for their crimes from Rex DeMonte himself, but they're on thin ice. If the Firelord hears about ANY more lawbreaking, he will be very displeased.
• At Tilda's shop, just as Tilda was claiming that she had no idea where Wendi was, Wendi's familiar Munchie burst in and ran directly upstairs. Tilda spilled the beans: Wendi is here, and Tilda is protecting her from the government for some reason.
• Munchie was being chased by a halfling bard named Marvin Undersky, who wants to follow the party around and author an epic (and maybe a few songs) about their travels. He carries many instruments with him, most notably a very interesting and familiar-looking mandolin.
• Grogery commissioned Tilda to silver his mace to make it more effective against Undead. It will be ready the next day around noon (or, perhaps, earlier).
• Dazki checked back in with Mot Noside to see how progress on the printing press project has been coming along. Mot has grand visions for the project... perhaps a little too grand. With some clever misdirection, he's been convinced to focus on the basic model, and he promised a working prototype of it within 6 months.
• Marvin informed the group that The Flesh Artist may have been spotted around Hershal's rest, a small hunting camp a couple days' travel from the city. It's not on any map, but that's not actually surprising for something like this.
• In the Undermart, Dazki met up with The Queen of Hearts and used the blackmail documents recovered from Baxton to pay off some of his debt.
• The Queen of Hearts is worried that killing Baxton ("a bad, bad man") created a power vacuum for the Flesh Artist ("a worse, worse man") to move in and start wreaking havoc here, so Dazki promised to "take care" of him too.
• Alfalfa has become uncharacteristically forward about demanding gold for things. Some of the information she gives this time around:
• Some poachers who had gone out to Hershal's Rest a couple of weeks ago still haven't returned. Marvin's information makes sense.
• The Rubymist clan have been trying to siphon off students from the University to get them into druid magic stuff. Dwardazik has a list of names and last known locations of eight Rubymist clan members (six, now: he had killed two already).
• There's also a bounty on Dwardazik's head: 700 gold for anyone who manages to "scalp [him], face and all".
• Alfalfa isn't able to help Kesmet too much more than she already has, claiming that if she really did have juicy intel on The Hounds Guild, she would help herself with it by turning it over to the House of Cards first. She did name-drop "ElVesta". Strangely (for an information broker), she doesn't seem to have made any connections between this peculiar drug dealer and Oskar LaVista.
• Alfalfa had pretty much no useful information about the Undead hordes outside the city, pointing Grogery to the church of Pelor instead.
• Dazki cornered Marvin after their encounter with Alfalfa; Marvin had originally claimed that he didn't know Alfalfa, but when the elf pressed further, Marvin said that they had a messy breakup in the past, with Alfalfa getting her Undermart business. Then he implies that they might be family. He says he wasn't lying about his main goal being to author an epic about the party's adventures, though.
• Back at The Party's Estate, Marvin shared two limericks that he's composed about the party's adventures he's seen so far.
• Dazki brought Barry downstairs, the house now being Annu-free, and told him about the information he learned that might help him with his condition.

 

Full Recap

The session opens with the party in the grounds of The Palace of Pride, about to leave after Gilda hinted that Sorda'an is not likely to give the party a fair hearing.  

Spitting Fire

Before the party can leave, a guard captain calls for them to stop. He is joined by four guards, two of which seem extra wary of the party (presumably, they've encountered the party before). The party stops to hear them out.

Dwardazik: This isn't going to take too long, is it?   Guard captain: Your presence is requested at the palace, promptly!   Grogery: Which part of the palace? The Palace of Pride itself or one of the houses?   Guard captain: I said the palace.   Dazki: Please, escort us to where we are expected, as the palace is large and we have not entered it before.   Dwardazik: I swear, if this is just some method of trapping us...   The guard captain, his task clearly having been fulfilled, merely gestures over to the big door at the front of the palace.   Dazki: Well, where exactly at the palace are we expected? We can't go there if we don't know where we're going.   Kesmet: Yeah, if it's all the same to you, we can just walk through the door, go "yeah, we're in", and then leave. Is that what you want?   Dwardazik: Hmmph. An invitation to the palace? There might be some good ale in there, at least.   Kesmet: Obviously, whoever's arresting us is waiting for us right there in the foyer.   Dwardazik: If they wanted to arrest us, they'd do it right now.

  Annu has a message for the party on their communication stone. Grogery grabs it.  

Annu: Forewarning: DeMonte has shown interest in you. You will quickly learn how to be respectful.   Grogery: Well... I guess I would be very concerned if he called the state of emergency and then didn't very quickly learn about what we did.   Dwardazik: This is a good thing! We're finally going to talk to someone who can do something about this whole damn city. It's about time we got some words in with DeMonte!   Dazki: Kesmet... maybe a little less gruff, and a little more deference.   Kesmet: I didn't do nothing!   Dwardazik: Well I've been saying that this Firelord hasn't done shit to keep this city safe! Might as well give him a piece of my mind.   Grogery: Dwardazik, he's like... royalty. Think of him like the head of a really important and powerful clan that you might want to be able to make trade deals with in the future.   Dwardazik: I'll show him proper respect, don't you worry.   Kesmet: Aren't we supposed to be on trial, or something? Shouldn't we be more concerned about that than trade deals?   Dwardazik: Well, I came here in the first place to do business. Can't hurt to at least put in a good word about Amber Falls.   Dazki: If asked, then sure, but if it doesn't come up, don't bring it up.   Dwardazik: Hmph. Well, best not keep him waiting, eh?   Grogery: Yeah.   Kesmet: With our luck, he probably will just be waiting in the foyer.

  The party walks over to the palace, Dwardazik cleaning up his beard in the hopes that it makes him more presentable when they get there. Glancing over at Gilda, Dwardazik giving her a thumbs-up, and she shoots back an apologetic look that can only be described as, "your funeral".   The entrance to the palace is gigantic. It has a massive arched doorway, flanked by two Fireguard. As the party approaches, the Fireguard open the doors, letting them in. The interior is both extravagant and sparse, with perfectly polished flooring and tall, looming pillars. The space is designed to feel both imposing and opulent, and it certainly succeeds in making you feel small. There is also a waft of hot air as the door is opened; this area is uncomfortably warm to the party members who aren't Fire Genasi.   Near the back, Sorda'an is waiting. Tired and impatient, he is at half-attention, one hand resting lazily on the hilt of his blade and the other held behind his back. He stares halfway across the room as he waits for the party. As the party approaches nearer, he makes eye contact and assesses them. Dwardazik gives him a nod and a polite greeting, Kesmet waves respectfully, and Dazki simply nods. Sorda'an simply says "Follow." and walks up the staircase. They follow.   The hallway has a similar aesthetic. Walls are lined with large tapestries featuring a lion-headed Tabaxi warrior that feels like it is judging you at all times. It's repeated many times down the hall. There are very few humanoid guards, but Fireguard are abundant down this way. The hallway leads to another heavy intricately molded metallic door, embellished with gold. This door is also guarded by Fireguard (this must be where all the Fireguard went, having been notably absent in the House of Crystal). Sorda'an gestures, and the two Fireguard open the door into the next chamber. He enters, and the party follows. The inner chamber is unbearably hot, even for Kesmet. Dark walls of volcanic rock and dark steel are illuminated by large braziers of fire. At the back of the long chamber sits a comparatively simple stone throne in front of a pool of molten gold fed by "waterfalls" of molten metal built into a volcanic stone wall.

Dwardazik: Hey Kesmet, do you think it's a little warm in here?   Kesmet: Yeah, it's like my bakery on a busy day.

  Stepping out dramatically from a side room is a large Tabaxi lion person. Somewhat impatient and disinterested, he's being followed by a noble who is trying to read from a scroll of some sort. The Tabaxi seems to have decided that he's done with whatever task that was, even though the noble is clearly not, and just got up and left. The Firelord's avatar form bears a strong resemblance to the Tabaxi that is portrayed in the tapestries along the hallway, though his mane is made of strands of fiery hair, and he seems to be more heavyset (how would an elemental even put on weight?).   Upon noticing that you are, in fact, within this chamber, he waves the scroll man away back into the side room and sits on his throne. Sorda'an continues walking towards him, but motions for you to stop. They do, and Dwardazik even kneels down when addressed.

Rex: You step within the chamber of a being immortal and all-powerful, and you are fortunate to have piqued my interest. Had I not heard of your escapades, you would still be at the mercy of this incompetent fuckwit. He gestures towards Sorda'an. You are blessed to have my attention.   Sorda'an just goes back to staring at the floor, much like what he was doing when the party first saw him today.   Dazki: Thank you very much for your attention, liege. However, I would request that you give a little bit of consideration to Sorda'an. He has been doing his best under very trying circumstanc --   Rex: ENOUGH. The braziers nearby seem to warm vigorously when he says this. I am not an elven council, a dwarven elder, or a goblin chieftain. Nor am I some piddly Firelord of an insignificant little hovel. I am THE Archlord, Rex DeMonte, second only to the exemplar himself!   Dwardazik, looking up: My lord, how can we assist you?   Rex: You have disregarded the law, MY law. You have attacked my men, stolen my things, threatened the safety of my civilians. Pause for effect. You also eliminated a dangerous mastermind who was doing all that and more, all while dancing circles around my insolent government officials. Tell me, should I deem you villains or heroes? Now, you may address me.   Dazki, stepping forward: We come to you not as villains. We also were misguided by the villain, which was the cause for some of our less ethical actions. For that, you have our most humble apologies. We only wish to make things right and to help fix the problems that have been wrought within the city.   Kesmet: Yeah, we didn't mean nothin' by it. It's just, we got tricked, and stuff. We got no beef with anyone in the city except the dead guy.   Rex: And what should I do about the injustices that you have laid before me and my men? Ignore them? Pretend nothing ever happened?   Dwardazik: Injustices? What about the... justices? Did we not succeed where your men have failed? We entered the city as citizens, as travelers. We encountered all of these things, and we put an end to it. Perhaps not in the most elegant of ways.   Dazki: A pardon for our unintended offenses would show great mercy, on your part, to your people.   Kesmet: We're not exactly trained professionals, but we still got the job done.   Rex: Now, see, General Bhorrd? Was that so hard to do, that you might waste their time and mine with your "concerns"?   Sorda'an just grinds his teeth angrily. He's clearly trying very hard to suppress his feelings right now in front of the Firelord.   Dwardazik: What will become of us? I know I speak out of turn, but we were to be placed on trial. Our current goal is to seek out the source of this Turmoil and eliminate it, for it has offended us and threatens this land. I don't want to waste your time. Are we free to go and pursue this Turmoil? Do you have some other task for us? Or should we rot away in a dungeon?   Kesmet: Preferably not that last one.   Rex: I am before you with your lives and livelihoods in my clutches. And today, I deem, as judge, jury, and executioner, that you are heroes, instead of villains.   Sorda'an, crying out frantically: This is just... nonsense! And absurd!   Rex, immediately snapping full attention to the general: One more outburst from you and you'll be nothing more than ground beef. I've HAD IT with your incompetence, your procrastination, and your attitude! Get out of my sight.   Fireguard show up to escort Sorda'an out of the chamber. As Sorda'an is escorted past the party, Dazki and Grogery give him an apologetic look, and Kesmet gives him the same wave as before.   Insight check: this is a man who, over the course of two days, has lost his son and his authority, was just now verbally assaulted by his boss, and isn't even living up to his own standards. He hasn't slept in the past two days, choosing instead to bury himself in his work to distract him from his grief and his rapidly diminishing self-worth. He was going to deal with you fuckers later, but then the Firelord found out about you, and now he has to deal with the fact that the terrorists who murdered his son are now heroes of the city. You don't necessarily know if he's a man of vengeance, but he is definitely a man of anger. You will not get his vote in anything.   Kesmet's reaction can be summed up in one meme.   Dwardazik: Thank you for your graciousness, my lord.   Rex: Praise me more.   Dwardazik: Great Firelord, your halls remind me of the greatest halls of the dwarven clans! Amber Falls would be proud if their nobles could walk through such a glorious palace! The stonework is refined, and the golden metal in your hall here is magnificent!   Rex: Then, I decree that you are not villains. BUT, if I should find you in this chamber again, under unfavorable circumstances, The Wall will not save you. Do I make myself clear?   Dazki: Abundantly, liege.   Rex: If I hear about any so much as a minor crime, your head is mine, and you will give it to me willingly. Is THAT abundantly clear?   Dazki: Absolutely.   Dwardazik: I understand. It was never our intentions to break any laws here. We are victims of circumstance...   Rex: Then go free as champions!   He gives them basically no time to react, before repeating:   Rex: Go free as champions!

  They leave, respectfully.

Free As Champions

Dwardazik: ...that guy's tall.   Dazki: He cuts an impressive figure, yes.   Dwardazik: I'm kinda glad that the whole trial thing is resolved, so... what do you guys say we get the hell outta here?   Kesmet: That's what I've been saying since even before we got in there! Let's go! Dennis isn't here, it's still fucked, they can deal with the rest.   Dwardazik: What about our house?   Kesmet: Fuck the house, we got it for free anyway, and the dude who gave it to us is now catatonic!   Dwardazik: That last part is your fault, Kesmet.   Kesmet: It's not a question of whose fault it was, I was just trying to calm him down. I didn't meant to be that convincing. Plus, if he gets help and get surgified, or turned into stone, or whatever those guys were talking about, then he'll probably be fine! Point is, he's not our concern. Plus, even if we tried to involve ourselves with him, we'd probably wind up breaking, like, three laws just on the way to him. Let's get the fuck out of here.   Grogery: Well, we still have 2 main items on our agenda before we leave town. One is that we need to figure out where The Flesh Artist is, and the other is that we need to check up on Tilda and Wendi.   Dwardazik: I've gotta say, I'm looking forward to seein' Tilda! He leaves the sentence dangling right where "and Wendi" would go.   Dazki: First order of business, let's visit Wendi and Tilda, and then I need to make a stop at The Cloud District on the way back.

The party hails a cab.

Dwardazik: We need to go to (insert appropriate directions to Tilda's shop).   Driver: Ugh, I hate The Sootworks. It smells so bad!   Dwardazik: Did you just insult the dwarven Sootworks?! No! We are NOT taking this disrespectful cab! He steps out. You guys can go in that one if you want, but I am NOT going.   Kesmet: Nah, we can wait for the next one. That guy was kind of a jerk.   Dazki: So, let me get this straight, Dwardazik. It's OK for you to make snide comments about elves all day long, but if someone even insinuates that the dwarven part of the city has an odor that they, personally, find unpleasant, and it's a horrible offense?   Dwardazik: Yeah, and?   Dazki: Just wanted to make sure your hypocrisy was in check...   Grogery: I understand their thing about blood feuds now.   Dwardazik: It's a dwarven thing. You wouldn't understand it, elf.   Dazki: Of course not. No one other than dwarves have any honor, respect for their families, or anything like that.   Dwardazik: Ahh, so you do understand a little. Although, I do understand that elf families are tight, considering their whole lineage and all that.   Kesmet: Girls, girls. You're both pretty. Can we go???

They hail another cab. As soon as it pulls up, Kesmet gets right up to the driver:

Kesmet, whispering: Don't say anything that will offend dwarves! He hands the driver a silver.   Driver, sighing: Nobility are always so weird.   He's completely silent for the whole trip. When they arrive:   Dwardazik: I appreciate your professionalism, cab driver.   Driver, clearly putting on a show: Dwarves are my... my favorite people! They are the best ones, out of all of the people! Yessir!   Dwardazik gives him a thumbs-up.   Driver: I like the part... their... beards?   Dwardazik: Oh, you, you'll have to --   Dazki, cutting him off: Have a nice day!   Dwardazik: If you like the dwarves so much, let me show you --   Dazki, cutting him off again: Dwardazik, I'm sure he has other things to --   The driver just leaves.   Dazki: He probably has a good dwarven work ethic, didn't want to take a break while on the job.

  Dwardazik knocks on the door of Tilda's blacksmith shop, announcing their presence and entering.   Tilda has the head of an axe heated up. She's currently toasting a sandwich on top of it, as she draws a pint of ale from a pony keg.

Dwardazik: Tilda! How's it been?   Tilda: Hey there!   Dwardazik goes around and gives a friendly slap on the back.   Tilda: You guys are still roaming around here? Aren't you guys, like, wanted?   Kesmet: Not anymore.   Dwardazik, proudly: We've been pardoned by the Firelord himself!   Tilda: Oh shit, really?   Dwardazik: He called us his champions!   Kesmet: He also said that he'd behead us personally if we stepped out of line.   Tilda: That sounds like a great honor, actually.   Dwardazik: I know! So, how's it been over here? Any word from your lost... relative?   Tilda, getting more serious: What do you mean, "lost relative"? Oh, yeah, OK. I get what's going on here.   Dwardazik: What do you mean?   Tilda: What do you mean, "what do I mean"? Look, I don't got time for this shit. She's not here, and that's all you gotta know.   Grogery: We were just wondering if you'd heard anything?   Tilda: I didn't hear nothin', I ain't gonna hear nothin', I've never heard anything.

  There's a commotion near the front of the store. Several items fall off the blacksmith's wall, like a couple of chains. Munchie, whom we all remember is Wendi's familiar with a rat's tail, is here. It grabs Tilda's sandwich off the heated axe, unhinges its jaw to devour the entire sandwich, and books it upstairs. It's being followed by a halfling, who flies into the shop. He's clearly in some kind of distress.

Marvin: OK, why the fuck did... whose fucking monkey is this?! I'm about to shoot this thing in the fucking face.   Tilda: It's gone upstairs.   Dwardazik: Who's that?!   Dazki just leans against the wall in a very, "Well, this is happening" kind of way.   Dwardazik: You know that that's Wendi's familiar, right?   Dazki: Yeah. I'm just staying out of this.   Dwardazik: ...that means Wendi's probably here.   Tilda, yelling loud enough for anyone in the building to hear: How many times do I gotta tell you to keep that goddamn monkey in goddamn line!   Marvin begins to chases it up the stairs.   Dwardazik: You'd best not chase that critter! It's bad luck.   Kesmet: It bites.   Marvin: That thing stole my fucking coin purse!   Grogery: Oh. That's not good.   Dwardazik: Oh, is that girl doing thievin' again?   Marvin: You know whose monkey this is?!   Dwardazik: I have some suspicions... He eyes Tilda angrily.   Tilda, also in a huff: What do you want me to do about it, huh?   Dwardazik: I want you to knock some sense into that girl!   Tilda: You think I haven't tried? I've tried so much to explain the intricacies of dwarven vengeance, tradition, and all of this stuff, and none of it sinks in! It's all just, like, fairies to that girl!   Dwardazik: You want me to talk to her?   Tilda: Nobody's even going to go up there, that's what's gonna happen!   Marvin: Just you try and stop me! He makes a serious move for the stairs.   Tilda takes a hand axe off the wall and chucks towards him. It embeds itself into the stairwell, missing his face by mere inches.   Dazki, stepping away from the wall: This looks like it can escalate into "disturbance of the peace", at the very least, so I'm just gonna wait outside. He walks out the door.   Tilda: Listen. Just because me and her aren't exactly on drinkin' terms doesn't mean she's not family, and it doesn't mean I'm not gonna protect her with all my heart. You got that?   Marvin: I just want my gold back! If you want to go up there and get my gold back for me, then great, I'll stay right here! That's perfectly fine with me.   Tilda marches over to him, pulls the axe out of the wall, and hands Marvin a handful of gold.   Tilda: There, see? Now no more snoopin'. I don't like snoopers.   Marvin: Oh, OK. That's what I was doin'. Of course. I understand. Yes.   Marvin does a quick count of the gold. It's about 78 gold. He doesn't seem happy with this sum.   Marvin: Fine. Your shop, your rules. You can deal with some thieving monkey later, if you want.   Tilda: I've killed that monkey, like, three fucking times, dude.   Kesmet: Have you tried using fire?   Tilda: I threw it in the forge once.   Dwardazik: So are you going to be all right here? With her, and her... tendencies?   Tilda: I'm always all right.   Dwardazik, remembering all that they've been through so far: Mm-hmm...   Grogery: So Wendi's OK, then, right?   Tilda: I mean, she's here.   Grogery: OK. Just, with some of the stuff that's been happening in the city lately, I wanted to make sure that she hadn't gotten caught up in something. She's been through enough recently.   Tilda: Well, clearly she's still got weird spooky powers, so things aren't that different, now, are they?   Dwardazik: Look, Tilda, I'm gonna be frank with you, all right? I think that Wendi probably has something bad that she's done. Maybe she's hurt right now, and if she's like any of the other people we've encountered, she might even be, well... scarred. Our current goal is to go out and find a way of fixing that. So if Wendi is injured, just know that we'll probably be heading out of the city for some time to try to find a solution, all right?   Marvin: Heading out of the city, you say? You guys actually look like... quite the band of adventurers.   Grogery: We haven't figured out a name yet, so don't ask.   Kesmet: We've most recently been called, by a rather astute figure, "The Fuckers".   Dwardazik: What's it to you?   Marvin: You guys wouldn't happen to be those guys been making a big commotion over the past two months, would you?   Kesmet: ...no...   Marvin: Ahh damn. That's too bad.   Dwardazik: What guys? Describe them!   Marvin: I dunno, I just heard about a bunch of terrorists, or something? I've been gone from the city for a little while...   Dwardazik: What?! That's slander!   Kesmet: Nope. Never heard of 'em. Nothin. Nuh-uh.   Grogery: I mean, I wouldn't call us terrorists, but from an outsider's perspective, I can see why someone might think that.   Kesmet: We haven't done anything. Nothing, over the past several days. At all.   Marvin: Well, if you guys are leaving the city, you might just be in luck! I happen to be... Marvin Undersky! Bard Fantastic! Bard Marvelous! Now, if you guys would want any sort of epics, or poems, or anything written about you, then I am at your disposal!   Kesmet: Uh...

Now that the commotion has settled down, the party gets a chance to really look at Marvin. He has pushed-back, dusty, reddish-orange hair and a really nice-looking cloak, but otherwise normal-looking traveler's gear. He has a variety of instruments, including a very... interesting-looking mandolin. Upon noticing the mandolin, which has some ocular symbols on it, the party instinctively looks to his eyes. To their relief, his ocular health and count both seem within an acceptable range for his species. He notices their fascination with his eyes, and he can't help but pipe up to mention that he has just the two, they both work, and he hopes to keep it that way.

Kesmet: Well, that mandolin is not very long for this world.   Marvin: Why do you say that? I've grown quite fond of this mandolin.   Kesmet: Nothing... we've just been attacked by people with a mandolin before.   Dwardazik: Look... you say you can play some music, right?   Marvin: Absolutely!

Marvin pulls out some bagpipes and starts playing a tune. Dazki hears this and, even though he recognizes that music is roughly the opposite of violence, but still continues to just wait outside. He's in a very "That's fine. Whatever." kind of mood right now.

Grogery: So, Marvin, was it? You say you've been outside the city for a bit?   Marvin: Absolutely! I accompany various groups of travelers, who I hope run into some interesting events that I try to document and, maybe, author some songs and whatnot.   Dwardazik, getting excited: Oh, have I got some stories about this damn city...   Grogery: So, you would know plenty of tales of various people who have been traveling around outside this city? Possibly causing quite a stir with miracles most interesting?   Marvin: I might... it's been over two months since I've been back in the city, though. I like to come back here in between journeys, hoping to find new people and see what they're up to.   Dwardazik: You, come with us! We'll talk more.   Grogery: We have some business outside the city that we need to get to, and you may be able to provide us some useful information.   Marvin: That I might. Where are you headed?   Grogery: We need to figure that out.   Marvin: A journey with no destination! It's not a story I haven't heard before.   Grogery: We have a destination, it's just not a place, but a person.   Dwardazik: I'm quite interested in the goings-on outside the city. We should speak on our way to our next destination.   Marvin: Fair enough.   Grogery: I do have some business I do want to attend to with Tilda, though...

  Munchie returns, sitting on the stairwell, clutching something in its paws. It looks apologetically at Marvin, who takes out the mandolin and plays a song to try to get him to come over. The monkey does come over, and it attempts to give Marvin the thing that it's holding in its paws. Marvin stops playing for a little bit to accept the gift. Dwardazik only has enough time to say "Marvin, --" before the monkey puts a big pile of monkey shit into his hand and runs away.

Marvin: ...I should have seen that coming.   Grogery: First time?

A live spider crawls out of the shit pile. Marvin just disappointedly tosses the pile over his shoulder. Kesmet incinerates the spider with a firebolt, and then uses more magic to clean up all the shit.   Grogery negotiates with Tilda to have his mace enhanced with silver, to give him an edge over the Undead that have been causing so much trouble outside the city. Normally it would take 100gp to have this done, but Tilda will do it for 70gp because of her history with the group. It'll be her top priority, but even so, it won't be finished until tomorrow.

Grogery: What do you say, guys? Will we still be here by noon tomorrow so we can pick it up before we head out?   Dwardazik: Seems reasonable... we need a weapon that can damage these undead.   Grogery: I don't have any backup weapons, unfortunately... not that I've been having much success with this one, anyway. OK, let's do this. Grogery gives Tilda the agreed-upon amount, all in platinum.   Tilda: Nice! High rollers, now, huh?   Dwardazik: Champions of the Firelord!   Marvin is... interested in that.   Tilda: I'm on a bit of a lunch break right now, but... She looks at the empty spot where her sandwich used to be, before it was stolen by a crazed monkey. Heck, I might be able to do it as soon as tomorrow morning!   Grogery: That would be great!   Dwardazik: That would be excellent! Tilda's the best blacksmith in the whole city!   Tilda: If you keep sayin' it, it becomes true!   Dwardazik: But it already is! Eyebrows. ...in more than one way!   Tilda: And don't you go around tellin' anybody that you think Wendi is here. Because I ain't dealin' with no government fools. This is a matter of family. She turns to Marvin. That goes double for you, you little singsong fella!   Marvin: Our matter is finished. This monkey clearly has many growing pains. I think somebody hit it while it was growing up.   Tilda: I hate that goddamn monkey.   Dwardazik: Wellp, let's head on out. Marvin, we need to have some conversations about that music of yours...

They head on out and start talking on the way.

Marvin: Oh, my music? Did you... did you like it?   Dwardazik: It's frankly... the best thing I've ever heard in this damn city.   Marvin does an excited flip and then takes a respectful bow.   Marvin: I thank you for your kind words.   Kesmet: Actually, we can collaborate! He does music, and I can do the lights!   Marvin: Oh, lights? Are you a sorcerer or something?   Kesmet: I like to think of myself as more of a circus performer.   Marvin: Another member of the performing arts, eh?   Kesmet: It was a cover, since I was running from the mob, but I was there for three years.   Marvin: We'll have to chat much more in the future, that sounds very interesting. Kesmet, was it?   Kesmet: ...I never gave out my name.   Marvin: Someone else used it when they were talking to you.   Dwardazik: Yeah, it was probably me. My name's Dwardazik Boulderhearth Stonetur -- wait, Dwardazik Stoneturner Boulderhearth. Sorry, I drank a little too much earlier. That's Dwardazik Stoneturner Boulderhearth.   Grogery: ...the Third?   Dwardazik: The First.   Marvin: Pleasure to meet both of you, then. And you, my heavily armored friend? He addresses the goblin.   Grogery: My name is Grogery of the Daointaar family. My family is quite far out of town, but my business brought me here.   Marvin: Very interesting, nice to meet you. And you? He addresses the elf.   Dwardazik: Ahh, Dazki, this is someone we met inside. He goes by the name of Marvin!   Dazki, noticing the mandolin, looks him over and nods.   Dazki: Nice to meet you.   Marvin: Nice to meet you as well. Thank you all for letting me accompany you on your travels.   Dwardazik: Now, now, we didn't agree to that yet.   Marvin: Oh, I thought you wanted me?   Dwardazik: I wanted to talk some more first, but first things first. To the Undermart!   Marvin: Oh, yes, of course!   Dwardazik: Oh, right, you might not know what that is. To... the next store we need to go to!   Grogery: Just remember, we'll need to be back, since I left my mace --   Dwardazik gives him a hand axe.   Dazki: Dwardazik... one thing. When you go there, that's not something that you just openly announce. Subtlety is kind-of key. Plus, I need to stop in the Cloud District first to talk with someone. I have a project in the works over there that I want to check up on.   Dwardazik: Ahh... all right... I understand. Eyebrows. A "project", eh?   Dazki: No, I'm actually having a Gnome build me a machine of some kind.   Dwardazik: She's a gnome, eh? I didn't know you liked it like that.   Dazki: You know what, whatever. Fine. Let's just hail a cab and go.   Dwardazik: OK, fine. I won't tell your wife.   Dazki: I need to see how my printing press is coming along.   Marvin: ...printing press...   Grogery: By the way, Dazki, while we're at the Undermart, is there a way I can communicate with people? I know some of the things to say correctly, but I am not... speaking the language.   Dazki: Just look like you do right now, and everybody will know that you have no idea what's going on.   Grogery: Oh. Well, that's comforting, I guess.   Dazki: I'm joking, of course. You're gonna stick out like a sore thumb. It's OK, I'll vouch for you. You've been down there before, so it won't be a big deal.   Grogery: I'm a puppy, and my favorite color is white.   Dwardazik: Uh, I'm a... I'm a dwarf. I'm not a puppy.   Grogery: No, you're obviously just, like... a... well, hmm.

They hail a cab and start heading over to the shop in the Cloud District.

Do you get to the Cloud District very often? Oh, what am I saying, of course you don't.

When Dwardazik arrives, he very quickly remembers the last time he was here. It was all so overwhelming. He decides to stay near the bridge to The Spire of Beasts while Dazki goes to take care of his business. The others decide to stay with him as well.   Dazki heads over to the shop owned by Mot Noside's mother, which is where Mot lives and works.

Mrs. Noside: Oh good, it's you again.   Dazki: Yup! Just checking to see how --   Mrs. Noside immediately pulls Dazki right down to her level for a conversation.   Mrs. Noside: Listen, man. I don't know what you did with this kid, but you can't keep getting his hopes up like this. It's dragging us all down, his optimism.   Dazki: What do you mean? What's wrong with him being optimistic about this project?   Mrs. Noside: All right, whatever. Your funeral.   Dazki: All right.

Dazki heads down to the basement.   Amongst all the huge piles of brass and bronze contraptions, Mot Noside is here tinkering on... something. Dazki calls down, which startles the gnome into dropping what he was doing. Loud crashes and bangs resonate throughout his workstation.

Mot: Oh, hey! It's you! Uh... so awesome! I've never had proper funding before, it's so cool!   Dazki: How's it coming? How's the progress on the prototype?   Mot: Ohmygod, I can't wait! Come here, c'mere, c'mere, c'merec'merec'mere!   Dazki: Yeah, OK.

Some of the mechanisms for Dazki's machine have been built. He's got a series of brass stamp-like widgets, and there's an armature. There's also a bunch of other stuff that's clearly unnecessary. Steam even pours out of a hose in the side.

Mot: Look. I really liked all your notes, spot on, they're really good, but they can be improved. I've improved it! I have so many ideas! This machine's gonna do it all!   Dazki: How about we focus on the --   Mot: EVERYTHING! Check it out! No, listen, this is so cool! He starts tugging on some toggle ledges, and a side panel opens up. A few gears fall out. Ahh shit, that's not supposed to happen...   Dazki: How about we focus on making it do just one thing really well?   Mot: Well everybody can make one thing that does one thing really well, that's not gonna corner the market. If we want to corner the market, we have to be successful. That's the only way I'm gonna beat those guys at BFI!   Dazki: Here's how you beat the guys at BFI: don't market it as "hey, I'm making a bunch of books for everyone". Market it as "I'm making the one perfect book. It's printed perfectly, every time."   Mot: No, you don't understand, they already make the books perfectly, but do they make the books perfectly and also... like, look, this thing, it refills the ink, and it's got this little arm, and it comes down, and it's like, << PEW!! >> it just like shoots the ink right back in and, like, << PEW!! >> and you can, like, adjust it, like, if you wanted to move the ink over, and it's like, ...PEW..., like over there.   Dazki: Refilling ink is good. Refilling and reusing of the ink is good. But it doesn't need to shoot out everywhere --   Mot: No, no, no, it's like a show! Part of it's like a performance, it's like... pew!!... like that!   Dazki: It's... not meant to be a performance.   Mot: Everything's a performance!   Dazki: This is just making books. You print a hundred sheets of one page, hang 'em to dry, then you print a hundred sheets of the next page, and hang 'em to dry.   Mot: It'll be able to do that too!   Dazki: We need to focus on making sure it can do that --   Mot: It's going to do that, you don't trust me?   Dazki: I trust you...   Mot: OK! Then it's gonna... no, it's gonna be great! It's gonna do 200 pages at once. 200! Multiple colors!   Dazki: OK, multiple colors is good, multiple colors is... ... how do you plan on doing multiple colors with this?   Mot: Well, you see, what I'm gonna do is...   Mot starts rummaging through more piles of loose gears. He comes back up with several pieces of copper hose and piping.   Mot: See, we'll affix a few things over here and then we can have the variety of vials of colored stuff, and then it goes like, ... bew!!..., like, over there, and you can catch it, see, because of the momentum, and it --   Dazki: How about we try to keep it a little bit simpler for the prototype? For the prototype, we keep it as simple as possible, and if that works, then we can move on to make something even more impressive.   Mot: Well, that's just dishonest! I mean, we're not really giving it our all if all it does is print, like, 100 sheets of paper in black-and-white perfectly.   Dazki: But that's the vision that I want!   Mot: Yeah, and it's going to do that, like, for sure. Like, look at it, like... it's so close to just doing that. But we can do all these other things! It's a waste of parts to have all the parts just doing one thing!   Dazki: How's this: we focus on two projects, OK?   Mot: OK! OK... I like where your head's at so far... so far... two projects...   Dazki: First project --   Mot: THE MECHAPRINTER 9000!   Dazki: First project is the printer that only prints one page at a time, black and white. It can print 100 pages in an hour, or however fast we can get it to do that. The simple version, the starter... the entry-level model, for those who don't have the most resources. And then, we can make... the printing press 12000!   Mot: ...holy shit...   Dazki: And that is the one with all the fancy bits and pieces. But we make two separate models. Because there are people who won't want it to be fancy, people who prefer simplicity, so we have to make sure we're catering to that portion of the market as well.   Mot: Why do we gotta cater to that portion? BFI's got that portion. They got it on lock! They make boring books all day long!   Dazki: Because that portion still has money! And if we can get books that BFI doesn't print, or newspapers, or things like that. Prints of news that we can sell and distribute throughout the city! Something like that, fast!   Mot: ...I get ya. OH, this is so smart! Because we make... OK, listen. We make the simple version, right? The no-flair, no-nonsense, just make shitty books all day long, right?   Dazki: So far so good...   Mot: And then BFI's like, "nah, we're gonna corner that market", right? But then, BAM! They spend all their resources taking out the little one, and we've got the MECHAPRINTINATOR 9042! They didn't see that coming, completely blindsided!   Dazki: Now you're getting it!   Mot: It's a secret project, then! And then... and then... once they focus all their attention on getting rid of the extraprintinator 9042, we bring back... Printinator Classic. We're geniuses!   Dazki: ...exactly. So how much more funding do you think you're going to need, and how long before a working prototype of the Printinator Classic?   Mot: Um, well, I've got parts for days, but... mom's making me pay rent. Says I need to get a real job...   Dazki: You have an investor, now. This is your real job.   Mot: Yeah, but I... kinda took apart two of her cats.   Dazki: Oh... um... tell you what, stop scavenging your mom's parts, and I'll get you funding to buy brand new parts. How's that?   Mot: I mean... recycling is the key to the future, though, and the cat, like... it was kinda busted anyways...   Dazki: All right, how's 150 gold for more funding, and --   Mot: SOLD! ...wait, "and"?   Dazki: And I need a working model within six months.   Mot: Oh, easy! I had a working model, like, two weeks ago, but I dismantled it to make this thing. He pulls out a gnomish panini press. Dude, this thing? Not only does it flatten sandwiches, but it toasts them too.   Dazki: I'm... not sure how this is related to our printing press.   Mot: BFI doesn't toast and flatten sandwiches, that's all I'm sayin'... this is gonna fund us forever!   Dazki: All right. Well, here is your funding, and I look forward to seeing the model.   Mot: Done and done! We're good!   Dazki: Thank you very much, it's a pleasure working with a, uh, genius like yourself!   Mot: Mot Noside! Remember the name, Mot Noside!

  Dazki heads out to meet back up with the rest of the party. Mrs. Noside gives him another "...your funeral..." on his way out.  

B Plot

Dwardazik pulls out his shield to put something between him and... everything that's going on over in the Cloud District. Editor's note: I'm taking more liberties with this one than usual, because it's just a B plot, it all happened in text chat with missing pieces, and it seemed just fun enough to be worth making something out of it.

Dwardazik: You guys keep an eye out for Dazki, I'll watch... He turns around to the complete opposite direction of the Cloud District. ...the Spire of Beasts! Yeah, you never know when a swarm of angry beasts might come over for an ambush. They'll have to come over that bridge, so I'll keep an eye out for them.   Marvin: ...you seem on edge, Dwardazik.   Dwardazik, with a grunt: You're on edge!   Marvin: That bad, huh? Which vile creatures are you worried about? Is it the gnolls? The kobolds?   Dwardazik turns back around to look at the Cloud District for a brief moment, before quickly returning to his self-appointed post.   Dwardazik: ...these gnomes are different. That place ain't safe.

  Satisfied that Dwardazik probably needs some alone time for a bit, Marvin turns his attention to Kesmet, who has set up a little makeshift stage to do some street performing. He's been juggling knives (he's a dagger person now, he uses daggers), and quite impressively too, but all the passersby too seem busy to really pay much attention.

Marvin: Nobody's biting, huh, Kesmet? Care to join forces? We can add my music to your performance. They can't help but notice us!   Kesmet: Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaybe...   Marvin: Just an offer. I wouldn't want to rain on your parade if you'd rather I not.   Kesmet: My music is usually more the "ooh"s and "aah"s of my audience... Pause for a beat, to look around at the distinct lack of an audience. Though you are good... we need to find out if the music will be a good accompaniment to a solo street performance.   Marvin: I can absolutely enhance your performance. Here, I'll play to the beat of your juggling.

  They go at it for a while, but still nothing, almost as if every single NPC walking by is 100% distracted with a different plotline at the moment. Oh well, there's always next time.

Resume A Plot

Marvin and Kesmet spot Dazki returning in the distance, ink splattered all over him. They pack up and go to collect Dwardazik and Grogery, who are at the tail end of what must have been a riveting conversation:

Dwardazik: ...now, look. I have never, in all my years, heard of gnomish ale, OK? It must be the rarest thing on the planet, because I've never heard of it! Gnomish ale? Dwardazik notices the others. Dazki, were there any bars over in that place?   Dazki: Um... you know, I wasn't really looking for bars. I told you, I had business with inventors.   Dwardazik: ...right. "business". Eyebrows.   Dazki just sighs.   Marvin: You all seem to have a lot of adventures and business going on.   Dazki: I'm trying to get some books made in a new way.   Dwardazik: ???   Marvin: ...in a new way...   Dwardazik: What's wrong with just usin' yer ink and quill, or charcoal, or somethin'?   Dazki: That's slow.   Dwardazik: Well, write faster, then!   Dazki: No, I'm just saying it's slow working to copy a book, right?   Dwardazik: Ahh, just have a magically enchanted ink and quill that just automatically writes what you're thinking or saying, then!   Kesmet: It should be what you're saying. Then, you have more control that way. If it's what you're thinking, you know, you can't really control your thoughts all that well.   Dazki: I want anybody to be able to use this, not just people with magic. It's got to be mechanical in origin.   Dwardazik: Uh... I'm not following.   Dazki: Well... Dwardazik, you can't do magic, right? And I can't do magic.   Dwardazik: Uh... right.   Dazki: So if you had to be able to do magic to use it, or if someone had to make it with magic of their own, then that severely limits the number of people who can use it.   Dwardazik: Right.   Dazki: So this needs to be something that anybody can use, even if they don't have magic.   Dwardazik: So... ... you're makin' charcoal sticks?   Dazki: No, I'm making a machine that can print hundreds of pages of a book in a short period of time.   Kesmet: So... ... you're makin' a machine that can hold charcoal sticks, that's powered by magic?   Dazki: No, a machine that's powered by probably, like, steam or water or something.   Dwardazik: That just seems so confusing to me.   Dazki: No, you know... you know, like, a signet ring, right? You press the signet ring in ink, and then you press it on the paper, and it leaves the signet on there, right?   Dwardazik: Runes?   Kesmet: What happened to the charcoal stick?   Dazki: Charcoal stick is not being used.   Dwardazik: Wait, is this similar to what the dwarflings used to use with the soft clay tablets, where they used to carve dwarven runes that would dry and harden?   Dazki: It's basically a machine that has an aperture the size of a piece of paper, and you can put little, basically, signet ring symbols on it, to fill an entire page, and then you press that down onto a sheet of paper, and then you ink it again, and press it onto another sheet of paper. You can do that hundreds of times in a day to print hundreds of pages.   Kesmet: Why would you want hundreds of pages of signet rings?   Dazki: Well no, but signet rings can have, like, letters. So you can put letters and punctuation and spaces, and you can print an entire page of a book.   Dwardazik: Think about it, you can make documents so much quicker! You'd be able to make copies of the same trade document and be able to give it out to every single person, have it shipped to every corner of the world, to say that Amber Falls is the greatest trade haven on the entire continent! I understand the value of this item.   Dazki: That is absolutely one thing it could be used for, yeah.   Throughout all of this, Marvin is focusing all of his attention on holding back and keeping a straight face.   Dazki: All right. So, last business stop of the day, then we're going to have to start getting supplies for our trip if we can figure out where we need to go.

They hail a cart and start heading towards the Undermart.

To the Undermart

Grogery: Before we go to a place where we're going to have to negotiate for information... Marvin, have you heard of a guy called The Flesh Artist?   Marvin: Oh, that's who you're looking for?   Grogery: Yep.   Marvin: Well, I had heard some rumors of this wandering doctor outside of the city, and he's been... for lack of a better term, creating miracles. Treating people who are basically on their last leg and curing them of whatever they have.   Dwardazik: Where is this fellow?   Marvin: Last I heard, he might have been at Hershal's Rest. Are you guys familiar with that place?   Grogery: I've heard of Dave's Rest...   Dazki pulls out a map. It's not on there, probably too small.   Marvin: It's a small hunting village outside the city. The thing is, though, I've also heard that he brings bad luck to the people he cures.   Dwardazik: We have a suspicion as to why.   Dazki: We're not looking to be "healed" by him.   Dwardazik: Oh, no, no, no.   Marvin: OK, none of you guys actually need healing. So, what do you want from him?   Dwardazik looks to the rest of the group.   Dazki: Let's just say we've had business with a professional associate of his, and it did not go well, so we would like to see what can be done about that.   Dwardazik, with a grunt: We're gonna make sure he's not doing anything evil.   Marvin: Fair.   Dwardazik: And if he is doing something evil, we're gonna kick his ass!   Marvin: There's also the fact that zombie sightings have been increased around that area... I hope it's a coincidence.   Grogery: Oh, so that's where the zombies have been coming from...   Dazki: No, it's probably not a coincidence. But anyway, we probably shouldn't speak any more of this. Last person we spoke of about things like this, it did not end well, did it, fellows? So, maybe, closer to the chest, eh?   Dwardazik: Well, he's the one who gave us some information, so it was only right that we gave some extra information to him! Assuming he's not lying, of course! He looks carefully at Marvin. Marvin, are you lying?   Marvin: No. I want to accompany you guys to where you want to go.   Dwardazik: All right, I believe him. I'm gonna trust that.   Kesmet: One more thing I want to ask... you travel around a lot, you've got a lot of stories and stuff. Have you heard of the Hound's Guild?   Marvin: Yeah, absolutely!   Kesmet: What of them have you heard?   Marvin: Well, I know how much of a rival they are with the organization here, the House of Cards. Why do you ask?   Kesmet: I have some business with them, and I'm looking for someone in the Hound's Guild. I sort of know where he is, but at the same time, it's a huge area. Point is, he's not in the city, though, so it's been a wild goose chase this entire time.   Marvin: I haven't heard of anything recent in or around the city, no, but I'm not the all-knowing font of knowledge!   Kesmet all of a sudden starts staring intently at Marvin, as if he's lost his mind (somehow more than usual).   Marvin: You know, Kesmet, normally I like being friendly with people, but you're getting awfully close. Why are you staring right at my face?   Kesmet: ...all right, you're good. He offers Marvin his hand. Marvin shakes the hand.   Marvin: So, Hershal's Rest. May I accompany you, if that is your destination?   Dazki: Well, we do need someone to show us the way, so... temporarily, we can be traveling companions at least, yeah.   Grogery: Sure!   Marvin: Well, all right, then! I am familiar with the area outside the city, in that general direction, so it shouldn't be that bad, but I understand you still have some business here before you go?   Dazki: Yep. I have a stop to make, and then I do want to send out a couple of letters tomorrow morning at the post before leaving the city, but for now, let's just say, where we're going, keep quiet, nobody here is a "cull", and don't use your real name.   Marvin: Oh, that's a given.   Dwardazik: What, we have to have code names for this place?   Dazki: I'm "Corvin", he's "Longbeard".   Dwardazik: "Longbeard"? That's simple.   Dazki: Yeah, don't you remember? That's what you said for us to call you when we met The Queen of Hearts.   Dwardazik: Aye, I remember. It's the same place, then?   Dazki: They're her people.   Dwardazik: Ah, OK.   Grogery: I think I went by "Silver Galleon".   Dazki: Yes, you did.   Marvin: OK, just so you guys know, I'm "Mister Mister" down here.   Dazki: "Mister Mister", got it.   Dwardazik: Happy to have you onboard, Marvin.   Marvin: Happy to be here.

They enter using the entrance from the Paradise Casino and are greeted by a tiefling who seems friendly enough:

Tiefling Greeter: Welcome to the Undermart! Hope you enjoy your stay!   Dwardazik, a bit too confidently: The name's Longbeard!   Dazki: Hey, is the Queen of Hearts around today, or is she up top advertising again?   Tiefling Greeter: Oh, she's around, alright! He fistbumps another tiefling.   Dazki: ...is she here? May I go speak with her?   Tiefling Greeter: I dunno... may you?   Dazki: ... ... Please tell me her location, that I might go speak with her.   Tiefling Greeter, sighing: She's at Deuce's Juice.   Dazki: Thanks.   Dwardazik: Is that a place to get ale?   Tiefling Greeter: It's a speakeasy.   Dwardazik: Sounds like a place to get ale!   Marvin: You are correct.   Dazki: All right, let's head over there.   Dwardazik: That's the best thing you've said all day!

 

Deuce's? Wild!

Indeed, it seems that the Queen of Hearts is at Deuce's Juice. She's currently speaking with (or intimidating?) another tiefling. A guy with a cloak, a bulkier build, who just seems nonplussed / borderline annoyed at the whole situation.   Dwardazik wastes no time rushing to the bar and places a drink order.

Dwardazik: I want... most expensive (no, not most expensive)... strongest (yes, strongest)... most strongest of ales! Give!   The half-orc bartender just eyes the dwarf.   Dwardazik: The name's Longbeard. Give me a long drink!   Bartender: Nah.   Dwardazik: Wut?   Bartender: I know what you really want, in your soul.   Dwardazik: Oh? And what would that be?

Despite being a big burly half-orc, the bartender makes Dwardazik a fairly complicated drink. In a short whiskey glass, there is a brown liquid. Resting across the top of it looks to be a short but thin cigar, which he lights with a flame that he produces by snapping his fingers.

Bartender: I know your mouth said "ale", but your soul says this.

Dwardazik gives the drink and cigar a try. It is, indeed, a cigar. It has a slightly woody taste, but it has almost like a nutty afterburn. It goes really well with the bourbon. Dwarven aged, underground, this drink has never seen the light of day until he poured it just now.

Dwardazik, elated: Ahhhhhhhh yes... that... you are... I can't... He takes another sip. I am quite content.

The Queen of Hearts is still pestering this other guy she's with:

Queen: Oh come on, Ten, if you're going to, like, hang around with me, the least you can do is look presentable!   Ten rolls his eyes a little, then cracks an obviously forced smile.   Dazki approaches.   Queen: Oh, hey! It's so much easier when you come to me, instead of me having to kidnap you against your will and having to talk you like that!   Dazki: Well, you know, as much fun as that is, I figured we'd make it easy on you today. Speaking of which, I have a gift!   Queen: A gift? Oh, I don't accept gifts.   Dazki: Payment, then, for services rendered in the past.   Queen: Now you're speaking to my heart!   Dazki begins taking out the blackmail material he lifted from Baxton's lair, when the Queen stops him.   Queen: It's so forward of you to start with business. We only just got reacquainted, here!   Dazki: Fair enough.

The Queen crosses the bar, behind Dwardazik. Dazki notices that Dwardazik becomes 6 gold lighter as a result of her passing behind him. She then presents 6 gold to the bartender.

Queen: This first round's on them!   Dazki, laughing: You heard the lady!   Dwardazik ignores all the commotion, digging deeper into his drink. It's the most magnificent thing he's had in a while in this gods-forsaken city.   Queen sits at the bar, and Dazki moves to sit next to her.   Dazki: So. how have things been down here lately?   Queen, sighing: You've really gone and made a mess of things, huh? I really should pick my business partners more carefully, but... you gotta live on the edge, have a little fun every once in a while!   Dazki: It wouldn't be the business if we played it safe all the time.   Queen: Why did you have to do this? We had such a good thing going: you owe me favors, I get things from those favors... but now you've just made everything a mess!   Dazki: It's an opportunity! There's going to be a particularly large power vacuum, plenty of opportunity for you (or those you have leverage on) to step up!   The half-orc bartender has served up a little glass of ginger tea, to the Queen, in a fancy teacup that perfectly matches her style. It has a little hibiscus on it, too big to fit in the cup. She takes a little sip from it.   Queen: It's the power vacuum that I'm concerned about.   Dazki: Oh? Not many people you'd be comfortable with who would step up?   Queen: See, I know you murdered that bad, bad man. But that just invites a worse, worse man to take his place!   Dazki: We're going to find the worse, worse man.   Queen: Are you?   Dazki: That's certainly our goal.   Queen: Well, it's a good thing you're in a speakeasy, then, chatting up pretty girls.   Dazki: Only the prettiest.   Queen: Now. You said you had a way of removing some of your debt with me?   Dazki pulls out the blackmail information and hands it over to her.   Dazki: I'm sure you're connected enough, you probably know a good deal of this already, but proof can always be helpful.   Queen puts down her cup of tea and grabs the documents, lazily rifling through them.   Queen: Blackmail, firsthand, huh?   Dazki: Yup.   Queen: From a bad, bad man.   Dazki: His private vault.   Queen: Well, not so private now, I would imagine.   Dazki: No, but we made sure that there was nothing left for anyone to find, once people started realizing what had happened.   Queen: These are pretty good, but I have a lot of responsibilities, and you do owe me a life debt. Hmm. Is there a way you could sweeten the deal?   Dazki: I'm sure there are plenty.   Queen: You do mean to go after this worse, worse man, do you not?   Dazki: Oh yes, the Flesh Artist. We certainly don't want to have him anywhere near this.   Queen: It would certainly be worth a lot to me if you could take care of that individual.   Dazki: Consider it done.   Queen: Well, that's legally binding. Now you have to.   Dazki: To be legally bound to you is a pleasure.   Queen: It always is. Now then, are there any other debts that you would like to accrue from the Queen herself?   Dazki: No, just to spend some time in your pleasant company. Though, I suppose, if you had any information on the Flesh Artist, it would certainly help speed up our repayment?   Queen: Oh now, now, that would just take the fun out of everything, wouldn't it?   Dazki: Fun vs. efficiency. It depends on what you're looking for.   Queen: I'm never really terribly efficient. Sometimes you've just got to live a little... before you die a little.   Dazki: Well, let's hope that dying is far off in the future.   Queen: Well, keep repaying me and it'll be easier to stay alive, then, to be kidnapped and then die horribly through some torturous end!   Dazki: I really do hope that will not be the case.   Queen gets up from the bar and starts walking off, her tail waving back and forth flirtatiously. She calls back:   Queen: Come, Ten. Let us see how far this blackmail gets us.   Ten follows her with a heavy sigh.

When the Queen and Ten are well outside of earshot, Dazki walks back over and addresses Dwardazik.

Dazki: Longbeard, you might --   Dwardazik: Hey, hey, hey, hey hey hey heyheyheyhey... ... ... shhhhhhhhhh. He takes another sip.   Dazki, more quietly: OK, OK. I'll leave you two alone, then. Just be more mindful of your coin purse. He gives Dwardazik some more space.   Dwardazik, addressing the burly half-orc bartender: Hey... what's her name?   Bartender: You mean the goddess that, before you, warms your soul?   Dwardazik: Speak quietly, but... what's her name?   Bartender, more quietly: I call her "The Golden Forge".   Dwardazik: Golden Forge... He finishes off the drink.   Grogery, leaning over to the bartender: So... what's my soul drink, then?

The massive burly half-orc bartender, who the DM has now confirmed has scars all over his arms and stuff, stops polishing his section of the bar after the Queen of Hearts left like half her tea behind. He eyes Grogery up and down for a while, arms crossed, and does some more bartender magic. What he gives to Grogery is not in a whiskey glass, but something smaller for his more delicate frame. The liquid is dark red at the bottom, getting more translucent as it nears the top, and there is some sort of fruit in there. The fruit adds some sort of effervescence when it is added to the glass. The half-orc seems to have invented elven champagne.   Grogery gives it a sip. He doesn't have much to compare it to. Though the flavors are simple, with the elven wine adding fruitiness and lightness, something about the effervescence from the fruit gives it an almost holy quality. There's holy-something involved, for sure... Grogery hasn't ever seen this fruit before, but it's similar to goodberry.   Kesmet asks the bartender to do him now. The bartender attempts to read his soul, but his eyes go terribly wide with brief panic and fear. Kesmet, oblivious to this, is just sitting there, growing more and more excited in the anticipation of what his perfect drink would be, after seeing the successes that the others had. Kesmet's bubbly mood only seems to frighten the bartender even more. He has a look in his eyes of, "I don't want to do this... but it's my job...". Almost (but not entirely) out of sheer panic, the bartender looks around the bar and hands Kesmet a clay vessel. Kesmet accepts it, a little confused since he didn't actually mix anything.   Kesmet goes to cautiously take a sip, only to find that there is no liquid in there. Instead, there are exactly 18 individually wrapped caramels. Kesmet gives the bartender a confused look, pours out a few into his palm, unwraps one, and eats it. He's prepared to be disappointed (because this is clearly not a drink), but these caramels are actually quite alcoholic. They aren't quite smoked, per se, but one can taste the char of the caramelized sugar. In the middle, there's an intense heat, and all of the alcoholic qualities are concentrated into this cinnamon fireball-like jelly core in these candies. It seems that the bartender is so terrified of Kesmet's soul that he just grabbed whatever candies he could find from under the bar and handed them to him, but...

Kesmet: That was actually a lot more enjoyable than I thought it would be! He leaves a platinum on the bar.   Marvin: ...Jesus...   Bartender breathes a sigh of relief.   Kesmet: Hmm, how many should I take...   Marvin: For one platinum piece? Just take all of them, get your money's worth!   Kesmet: Well I guess this probably wasn't custom-made just for me, so I don't want to run off with all of them, but I'll at least grab half.   Marvin, sarcastically: Yeah, you're not a monster.   Grogery: Corvin, did we get any information about where we need to go?   Dazki: Not particularly, but we could go see Alfalfa. More importantly, we've paid off part of our debt from when she saved us.   Dwardazik: I suppose that's good. So what's changed? Are we now indebted to anything more? Any contracts or anything, or can I just come down here and keep sipping this ale until I die?   Dazki: Nothing we weren't already planning on doing.   Dwardazik: All right. I'll leave you two doing this underworld talk.   Dazki: She asked us if we would "take care" of the Flesh Artist for her.   Dwardazik: Oh. Well, that's what we were gonna do anyway!   Dazki: Exactly. So we could go see Alfalfa, see if she knows something.   Marvin: Oh, you guys speak with Alfalfa?   Dazki: Yeah, we've met a couple of times.   Marvin: Oh, interesting.   Dazki: Her information seems reliable enough. Is there someone you know down here who would be better?   Marvin: Oh, no, I've heard good things about her as well. I've never actually spoken with her, but, um, I'd certainly like to speak with her! I hear... if there's a halfling down here, I'd like to speak with 'em. She is a halfling, right? That's what I've heard...   Dazki: Yeah.   Dwardazik: Whatever information we can get that will make this journey easier is fine with me. Perhaps we can get some way of locating where this place is, on a map, so we can mark it?   Dazki: Well our new friend here says he knows the location, but can't hurt to see if we can find out about any other locations, see if there's a pattern or anything.   Dwardazik: And maybe find out if there's anything with these undead he mentioned. These zombies.   Dazki: Exactly.   Marvin: It's worth it to get a second opinion.   Dwardazik: Lead the way! I don't necessarily feel too comfortable down here. I understand bein' underground, but...   Dazki: Well, every large enough city has a place like this.   Dwardazik: While it might be valuable to do business, it always comes back to bite you in the ass. Honest business is better, honest trade. Doesn't mean it's not useful, though.   Dazki: In places like this, you can be more honest than anywhere else.   Dwardazik: You know what... you might have a point. Especially with drinks this damn good.

OutSTANDING Desk Work

They make their way to Alfalfa, having a tiny bit of uninteresting side conversation on the way. Oh look, they're here.

Dazki: Alfalfa! Good to see you again!   Alfalfa: Oh, it's you guys again! I've been hearing so much about you all the time!   Dazki: Yeah, we've been making waves. Hopefully, you've heard at least some good things about us?   Alfalfa: Oh, well, I mean, one person's good thing is another person's not-a-good-thing, y'know? But, like, to each their own, right?   Dazki: Yeah, and as long as you're the one hearing it first, that's good for business.   Alfalfa: I saw you talkin' to the Queen over there... y'know, you've gotta be careful with ladies like that.   Dazki: Oh yeah, but... He harkens back to his conversation with the Queen earlier ...what fun is life without a little bit of danger, am I right?   Alfalfa: No, I think fun is perfectly fine with no danger, I mean, personally. I mean, imagine, like, not having any danger? It's way better, y'know? If you could just even think about it for, like, a little bit, like, just imagine it right now...   Kesmet: Amen, sister!   Alfalfa: See? That was just, like, the most blissful, like, 3 seconds of everybody's life, just now, with no danger!   Dazki: It would be a little bit boring. I'll admit, I'm not looking forward to when I'm going to have to start up that part of my life again...   Alfalfa: Well, uh, I mean, day's still early. What can I do for ya? I'm sure you're absolutely laden with gold! Laden! So much gold! I can't believe how much gold you have, and you should put on my desk right now! Tell me, what do you need? Good bakeries? More ship details? Whaddaya got?   Dazki: The Flesh Artist.   Alfalfa: Eww. That's a super gross name.   Dazki: You know the guy?   Alfalfa: Uh... maybe if there was, like, a description or something?   Dazki: Creepy traveling doctor?   Alfalfa: Oh right, the one that was in the city the other day?   Dazki: Yeah.   Alfalfa: What about him? He's super creepy. You killed his partner. I think they were working together.   Dazki: Any sightings of him lately?   Alfalfa: Sightings of him? He fucking left.   Dazki: Any idea where, or any other associates in the city?   Alfalfa: Associates?   Marvin: "Alfalfa", was it? These fine people here, I had informed them that he might have gone to Hershal's Rest. Does that sound correct?   Alfalfa: Hershal's Rest? That little old place?   Marvin: Yeah, about two days' travel from here.   Alfalfa: Oh, this makes some sense, actually, with some of the other data that I got.   Marvin: Interesting. What else have you heard?   Alfalfa: Usually we have a band of poachers that goes up there occasionally, sneaking in under the legitimate hunters and stealing some of their kills, y'know? They don't check their traps as much as they should. I think if you're gonna lay traps, you should really check those things frequently. Anyways, a compatriot of mine hasn't heard back from the poachers, like, at all.   Marvin: That's not good...   Alfalfa: This was, like, a couple of weeks ago, though. They should have been back by now, right? I mean, it's only, like, 2 days away, and like, how long does it take to poach big game?   Dazki: Certainly not that long.   Dwardazik: Especially for poachers. In and out, quickly.   Alfalfa: You think your really creepy doctor character was over there?   Marvin: That's what I had heard, that there were some sightings outside of the city.   Alfalfa: Well, I completely belive you, stranger!   Marvin: It's "Mister Mister".   Alfalfa: Oh, but it's so rude of me to give away information without you giving me the gold first, though?   Marvin: Ahh shit, that monkey. I didn't get all of it back...   Dazki takes 20 gold out of his pouch and sets it on the table. Alfalfa's eyes light up.   Alfalfa: See? Money, I feel, passes all language barriers!   Dazki: You know, it really does.   Alfalfa: It so, so does, y'know? I mean, think about it, it's so weird that these simple, like, three or four different denominations of coins, they're like, accepted everywhere!   Marvin: Quite convenient.   Dwardazik: So...   Alfalfa: Please, pay me more money! I have so much more information! I mean, do you see all these books and everything? I'm so smart! I know, like, all the things!   Dwardazik: What can you tell me about the Rubymist clan?   Alfalfa: The Rubymist Clan? I mean, like, there's been some of them roaming around here. You want to give me some gold?   Dwardazik puts 10 gold onto the table.   Dwardazik: Give me something worthwhile. If you keep giving me good information, I'll keep paying.   Alfalfa: Well, that's usually how everything happens, y'know? I give you information, you give me gold, you give me more gold for some reason, I give you more information. There were Rubymists hanging around here, ever since the library kind of, like... messed up. I think they're trying to siphon off some of the students from the University to teach 'em some more of that druid stuff. They're druids, y'know! They turn into animals and junk. It's really weird.   Dwardazik: Do you know what the Rubymists are aiming to achieve in this city? Why are they so far away from their clan home?   Alfalfa: I think they're... well... ugh, I suppose i should tell you. You did give me a lot of gold, eh?   Dwardazik puts 10 more on the table.   Alfalfa: And I have a feeling I know just who you are, after this series of questions. There's definitely a price on your head, mister! Not you, Mister. Dwarven Mister.   Dwardazik: Don't know what you're sayin'.   Alfalfa: Oh, there's a price on your head. For sure.   Dwardazik: Oh? And who set that price?   Alfalfa: You know who set that price.   Dwardazik: And how much is that price? I want to know if I'm worth it or not.   Alfalfa: Anybody that manages to scalp you, face and all? 700 gold.   Dwardazik: That's it?   Alfalfa: And the favor of a dwarven clan.   Dwardazik: I see...   Alfalfa: That's futures right there, y'know? They are tradesmen.   Marvin: Man, with your beard, that would be pretty hard to pull off.   Dwardazik: I see.   Grogery: Or the beard is a handle that you can use to pull it off?   Alfalfa: You've definitely angered those Rubymist people, I tell you what!   Dwardazik: I want a list of names of every single Rubymist in this town! He throws 100 gold onto the table. List names and last known locations.   Alfalfa: What are... I mean... shit, man, give me a second!

Alfalfa hops off her desk and starts rifling around in a basket of loose journals and papers. She copies information scattered throughout several of them onto a single sheet of paper.

Alfalfa: Now, I mean, I don't usually track the locations of every single person ever in the entire city, I mean, that would be ridiculous, y'know?   Dwardazik: Last known location is fine.   Alfalfa: I'm just one lonely halfling, all right? I mean, I can only send information that I have. I can't just invent information, that's how I would lose my job.

Alfalfa hands Dwardazik a paper with some information on it. Two of these individuals, Dwardazik recognizes as people he has already killed in the city, but there are six more. They're not hanging out in the Sootworks, which probably means that the other dwarves don't much like them either. They're mostly hanging around Hammertown and the University.

Dwardazik: Thank you for the information.   Alfalfa: No, thank you for the gold! This is, like, amazing!   Dwardazik: You continue to do good business, the Boulderhearth family will be able to provide you insurance.   Kesmet: All right, here we go.   Kesmet moves some stuff out of the way on her desk and carefully climbs on top of it, like he did last time.   Alfalfa: I mean... ahh, I forgot, there's this whole domination thing with you, where you have to be all taller and superior in order to deal with me. I'm gonna mention... it is a little off-putting, but, like, I think I get it! Like, everybody's got their thing, and that's just your thing, so I mean, you go get 'em, tiger!   Kesmet, giving her a blank look: You are misinformed on that, which is a dangerous thing to be in your business. I'm going to rectify that. You see, last time, we were able to talk straight when I was sitting on your desk like this. I'm hoping for a similar result.   Alfalfa: I mean, he's still over the Waterscar, I can just give you that information right now.   Kesmet: Are any of his goons still in the city, like, with the dwarves or whatever?   Alfalfa: Oh, the House of Cards has straight-up chased a lot of 'em into, like, other cities. I mean, there's a few little low-end drug dealers selling that sharp sugar, but I heard you cooked a few of them up real good, and they're gettin' real skittish and thinkin' about leavin' too. So if you wanna go ahead and cook those guys too, it'll really help the Queen, y'know, and her crew. Not that she does the drugs, like, immediately, but I mean, it could be favorable! I mean, they don't like the Hounds Guild, there's still a few little drug dealers runnin' around, they seem to hate you, 'cause you burn people alive and murder their families for, like, no reason, so...   Kesmet: I do only one of those things! Also, where are they, how many are they, and how much is the information going to cost?   Alfalfa: I mean, if I knew the exact location, I would sell them out right now. Like, can you imagine how much favor I could get for just, like, selling out the Hounds Guild, like, to the House of Cards? Like, think about it for, like, a few seconds. I do know one of their drop points, though, but nobody seems to visit there ever since that one mustachioed fella stopped goin' there. "ElVesta"? It sounds, uh...   Dazki: Fake.   Alfalfa: No, it doesn't sound fake at all! It sounds, uh... "fake" definitely isn't the word, it's... uh... I mean, it's definitely some sort of human or half-elf, right? But, like, the name isn't, like, human or half-elf. I mean, "ElVesta"? That's some Dragonborn names or somethin', I don't know.   Kesmet: What other cities were they going to? What was the closest one?   Alfalfa: Like I said, if I had this information, I would just... up-shop, right now. No more shop, y'know? I'd be sippin' sweet drinks on the beach, I'd be set forever. But, uh, if you locate the mysterious figure known as "ElVesta", I'm sure that shady figure would know somethin'. I mean, he's the only one I've seen around the drop point they used to use. I mean, before you, like, cooked a few of 'em.   Kesmet gives her 10 gold for the "ElVesta" name.   Alfalfa: I really wish I could help you more, but let's be honest, I wouldn't be helping you, I'd be helping me with it, y'know?   Kesmet jumps off the desk. Alfalfa grabs a rag and starts to clean off a little bit of the spot where he stood.   Kesmet: Oh, my bad, here. He casts a spell, and it cleans up instantly..   Alfalfa: Oh, finally! An aggressive man who cares!   Kesmet: Hey, we wouldn't have to do this if I didn't have to keep sitting on your desk for some reason...   Alfalfa: Hey, who haven't I talked to yet that wants to just throw me some gold!   Grogery: Me! I've heard tell that maybe some of this Flesh Artist stuff maybe has to do with all of the zombies roaming around outside of town?   Alfalfa: Oh yeah. I'm pretty sure that guy's, like, a necromancer, right? Like, I mean, think about it. Like, you're healing people that can't be healed? That's basically the same thing as bringing a dead guy back to life, right? That's gotta be necromancy.   Grogery: UH... I think, technically, it's classified as that... um anyways, as someone with the church of Pelor, we tend to deal with the zombies. So I was hoping you could provide a map of where the zombies have been sighted recently?   Alfalfa: I mean, I'm not a paladin, so... I mean, I really really really really want your gold, but, like, I can't, like, make up information that I don't have. There's a lot of pockets and stuff of 'em, and the Church of Pelor's paladins are still in the city right now, so...   Grogery: OK.   Alfalfa: ...but you're more than welcome to tip me for my good looks, if you want! Like, it doesn't have to be information-based, so...   Grogery: Eh. He takes out 7 gold and puts it on the table. Thanks, that's all I really had to ask.   Dazki: Well, thank you very much, as always, for your information!   Alfalfa: I mean, like, seriously, like, do you guys need recommendations for, like, coffee shops, or...   Dazki: No, no, I think we're good.   Alfalfa: I mean, I have so much information about boats! Ever since you asked about boats, I've just gathered so much information about boats! Like, it's really reinvigorated, like, a new passion of mine, to just learn about boats.   Dazki: Hopefully it'll also help you find a couple of new smugglers after what happened with one of your last guys.   Alfalfa: I just haven't had the time! I mean, everything's going absolutely nuts out there!   Dazki: Yeah, sorry about that, that's mostly us.   Alfalfa: Well, I mean, you're very easily forgivable!   Dazki laughs, points at the mountain of coins on her desk, and says: I'm sure we are.   Alfalfa: All right, who else? What about you, uh... short fella?   Marvin: Hey, I'm just as tall as you!   Alfalfa: I'm on a desk.   Marvin: You got me there. They were interested in learning more about the Flesh Artist, and I think we've got the right direction now. I appreciate the insight.   Alfalfa: Oh really? Nothing? No gold? No gold for poor Alfalfa? Poor Alfalfa's family and friends are all going to starve to death now!   Marvin: Man...   Dazki: I think you've made more than enough money off of us for the day, Alfalfa. That can buy you at least a couple of loaves of bread.   Marvin: What kind of bread are you eating?!   Dwardazik: Rock bread.   Marvin: That... sounds... painful.   Alfalfa: Well, I mean... sure... I mean... that's great. I mean, it's what... like... probably 2:00 by now? I've made, like, enough money to, like, close for the day. This is amazing!   Dazki: See? Now you can research some more on boats!   Alfalfa: ...don't you patronize me.   Dazki: It was meant to be a joke. I apologize.   Alfalfa: ...2 gold.   Dazki: Nice try.   Alfalfa: I mean, you can't blame a girl for tryin'. You guys are really loose with money. I mean, I just asked the goblin for a compliment, and he gave me like 7 gold.   Dwardazik: I expect your information to be accurate.   Alfalfa: My information is always accurate.   Dazki: She's not steered us wrong yet, Longbeard. I trust her information.   Dwardazik: And don't tell anyone I was asking.   Alfalfa: That's literally against the rules, so... don't you tell anyone where you got that information!   Dwardazik: Hmmph.   Alfalfa: No, like, seriously. I will send hitmen out to kill you. I have a livelihood to protect!   Dazki: Longbeard, seriously, don't. You were never here, we were never here, this conversation never happened, OK? More than just your reputation is riding on it.   Alfalfa says something to Marvin, the only party member who didn't give her any gold, presumably in the halfling language.   Dazki: All right, and with that, I think it is time for us to go back to the house.   Dwardazik: Actually, I need to take care of some business of my own before we leave, no big deal. Don't wait up if I'm not back yet.   Marvin: ...   Marvin: ...   Marvin: ...   Marvin: ...house?

They exit the Undermart. Dwardazik's business is sorted quickly enough that he doesn't miss much of the conversation.

Dazki, to Marvin: So how do you two know each other?   Marvin: I think we might actually be distant cousins? I'm not sure.   Dazki: ...right...   Marvin: She did seem familiar when talked, but I can't actually quite place it. She did call me a cheap bastard when we left, though.   Dazki: Something tells me that's not what she said.   Marvin: You think we actually are family? I'm telling ya, halfling families can get pretty big pretty fast.   Dazki: Yeah, but that was more than distant relatives knowing each other. Maybe you're family, maybe you're friends, I don't know, but you two know each other.   Marvin: Well, we know each other now, if that's what you're saying...   Dazki: You know each other now, you knew each other yesterday.   Marvin: We do? I'm so confused!   Dazki: All right, fine. Play it off if you want, but yeah.   Grogery: 5 gold says it was a messy breakup.   Marvin: OK, fine, yes. We dated a little bit. And it was awkward, OK?   Dazki: Oh, how convenient that he guessed it on the first try.   Marvin: It was a pretty bad breakup, and I don't want to talk about it. She's clearly come out on top with her new business. She won the breakup, OK? She kinda flaunts it in my face all the time. It's kind-of embarrassing.   Dazki: If that's the story you're going to go with, fine, I'm not going to question it.   Marvin: Something on your mind, Dazki?   Dazki: Forgive me being suspicious that someone with information that we need shows up exactly when we need it. Last time that happened, especially with information related to Turmoil-related things we were seeking, it didn't go well. So... color me a little suspicious.   Marvin: I hear that. My goal, all I want to do is author a huge epic about some adventurers. I'm genuine about that.   Dazki: I'm not saying that you are intentionally playing us or anything, just that the circumstances make me a bit suspicious, that's all.   Marvin: I can see where you're coming from.   Grogery: Good news is that we'll have a few days to get to know each other, we'll be able to look into Hershal's Landing, see if what you've heard and what you've told us bears any fruit, and go from there. We just seem to have a supernatural ability to run into trouble, no matter which direction we go in, so...   Dazki: Fair enough.   Marvin: Trouble often makes for a good story, so I'm honestly a bit excited.   Dazki: And like I said to the Queen of Hearts, what's life without a bit of danger? Not a whole lot of fun.   Grogery: If life didn't have any danger, then someone out there would try to make it dangerous for someone else.   Dazki: That's a failing in people, not necessarily how things should be, but I agree that it does make for an interesting and exciting life.   Dwardazik is back from his business.   Dwardazik: This place... has some of the best booze I have ever tasted. And has therefore... earned my seal of approval.   Marvin: Speaking of that... even in the short time I've been with you guys in the city, I've already got a couple of limericks for you! Would you be interested?   Dwardazik: I would be interested in hearing them, once we get back to the house.

Mind Over Manor

As usual, the players take a bit of time to organize the new things that they just bought for their house. As usual, I'm not going to list the minor things, since it'll be on Roll20 for you anyway.

Marvin: So, about those limericks...   Dazki: Sure, why not!

Dwardazik had a nice drink.
It kept giving him a sultry wink!
He treated it with care,
He gulped it down like air,
On his skin, he wrote its name in ink!
Golden Forge

Dwardazik claps.

Dazki invented a machine,
Of books and knowledge it did glean,
Kesmet couldn't understand,
On his head, he did land,
If only he wasn't such a wean!

Kesmet gives him a weird look.

Kesmet: The fuck does that mean?   Marvin: It means whatever the hell you want it to mean. Those were the two limericks I have for you.   Kesmet: I caught every single one of those knives, I'll have you know.   Grogery: Anyway, forgive our mess, we haven't really lived here terribly long.   Dwardazik: What? I think it's excellent! You should see the kitchen!   Marvin: So, what, this is your place? You guys own this?   Kesmet: We reside here.

  Dazki heads upstairs to Fort Barryworth, but Barry is in his room, hanging out in his bathtub. He knocks on the door.

Dazki: Hey, Barry are you in there?   Barry: Nope, no girls allowed. Yeah, what do ya want? How did you find me in here? I was doin' the ol' double bluff.   Dazki: I just knocked on all the doors until i found the one where Barry responded to me.   Barry: Shit.   Dazki: But the guy is gone. He's not going to be coming back, and I may have information on how to make fishperson Barry elfperson Barry again.   Barry: Uhh. Umm. Yeah, about that. I know we've been through the "fishperson Barry's probably worse", right? But, like... is it gonna be hard?   Dazki: Yeah. Yeah, it is.   Barry: Barry's not very good with hard things.   Dazki: Yeah you are, Barry. You are. You don't give yourself enough credit. You are an equal member of this party, and to be a member of this party, you have to be able to deal with difficult things.   Barry: No, well, I mean, you keep saying I'm an equal member of the party, but you've killed multiple people, and I've only killed one person. And since I killed that person, all I've done is hide in a box! And I've written hundreds and hundreds of words, and none of these words mean anything to me. And you, like, have it so much better, and you don't understand, and you are just taking pity on me.   Dazki: But I'm not, Barry. I want to help a friend.   Barry: You don't have a reason to be my friend. I'm a fish person, with no backstory.   Dazki: There's not a reason to be someone's friend. You are, because you think they're a good person. And Barry, I think you are a good person, so I want to be your friend. So I have information. It would be challenging, but we might be able to find a path towards making you the Barry that you used to be, if you want. But, as your friend, I'm going to offer it to you, but not force you with either decision.   Barry: I know, I know, but like, I know we've had heart-to-hearts, but how do I know you are not tricking me like that guy was tricking you?   Dazki: You just have to trust that I'm your friend.   Barry: I'm pretty sure that's how people get tricked, though.   Dazki: Yeah, it is, but it's also how people get better.   Barry: Well, I guess I don’t have a choice.   Dazki: You absolutely have a choice.   Barry: Well, now, that's just confusing!!! It was less confusing when I didn’t have a choice...   Dazki: Life is confusing. You just have to try and make the best choices you can.   Barry: You don't understand confusing. Confusing is not knowing what you even look like.   Dazki: That's fair. I'll tell you what. Tomorrow morning, before we leave the city --   Barry: Wait, we're leaving the city?!   Dazki: ...We are thinking about leaving the city to search for someone who might have information, or to stop someone who might be doing evil things to others, like what happened to you.   Barry: Uh... OK?   Dazki: Would you like to come with us, or would you like to stay here and protect the house?   Barry: I, for sure, cannot protect this house.   Dazki: We'll probably only be gone for a week or so.   Barry: But also, not only can I not protect this house, but... it is really hot out there. But... I don't want to be alone. Can't we all just live in this house?   Dazki: I mean, the thing is, I made a promise to someone. I made a promise to a tiefling woman that I would go do this, and I made a promise to you that I would help you become Barry the elf again, instead of Barry the fishperson. I want to try to keep both of those promises. Because that's what being a good friend is.   Barry: I will be whatever you need me to be, but... ... it gets real lonely here.   Dazki: Well, that's why you can go out and talk to people and make friends.   Barry: I definitely can't do that. Somebody is going to find out that I am a fish person and murder me.   Dazki: Not if you don’t tell them.   Barry: You found out I was a fish person, and I didn’t tell you!   Dazki: That was before you had your hat. If you had the hat when we met you, we would've had no idea!   Barry: ... Barry hasn't eaten in, like, a day and a half.   Dazki: Well, lets go downstairs and get some food then, Barry, huh?   Barry: I didn’t want to go downstairs because I didn’t know if that guy would be back.   Dazki: He's not going to be back. I promise.

  They walk downstairs, Dazki telling Barry about the professor and some of his research on the way. When he gets down the stairs, Barry is a perfectly normal-looking human person, which he must have always been, and definitely not a fish person, which he doesn't look like, so why is it even being brought up here?  

Dwardazik: You hungry, guys?   Dazki: Well, whatever you're making smells good. So if I wasn't hungry 10 minutes ago, I sure am now.   Dwardazik: Let's eat!   Marvin: You don't mind if I join you guys, do you?   Dwardazik, mouth full of food: Get in there, Marvin! No one goes hungry in this hall!   Marvin: That sounds like a good rule to me. Thank you, thank you all! This kind of seems to be, like, a jointly owned house?   Dazki: Yeah. We did a favor for Sol DeWork, second-in-command of the House of Stone, and he ended up deciding that this was an appropriate reward for rescuing Aldrick Ansley Baster the 3rd, first-in-command of the House of Stone.   Kesmet, between bites of food: Yeah, he's afraid of spiders.   Dwardazik: It's a nice house, but it should be underground.   Grogery: Parts of it are underground...   Dwardazik: The best parts!   Marvin: You guys seem to deal with the different houses quite a bit. I swear I heard the name Annu mentioned before. That can't be Annu Adabra, can it?   Dazki: The very same.   Marvin: That's one scary motherfucker!   Grogery: Again, we have an almost supernatural ability for running into trouble.   Kesmet, proudly: I threw a fork at him!   Marvin: Why?   Kesmet: It was a joke. He didn't get it.   Dazki: It's because he has no sense of self-preservation.   Marvin: Clearly. Holy shit!   Dwardazik: Annu didn't eat my cooking, either!   Kesmet: He even counterspelled every single one of my cantrips just to be safe, that one time!   Marvin: Why the fuck would you... I wouldn't... I would be scared just looking at the guy. And you're casting spells at him?!   Kesmet: Not at him, at the table.   Dwardazik: He's not that scary, except for the part where he's floating, and evil, and... well... sort-of evil.   Dazki: He's not evil. He's completely bound by the laws.   Kesmet: Convincing him of anything is like pulling teeth... of something that doesn't have teeth.   Barry has been eating food silently this whole time, but he won't stop staring at the bard at all.   Dazki: Oh, sorry, we forgot to introduce you. Barry, this is Marvin. Marvin, Barry.   Marvin: Nice to meet you, Barry!   Barry: Don't touch me!   Marvin: ...OK?   Dazki, leaning in to whisper: He's got a bit of a skin condition, and he's a little bit self-conscious about it.   Marvin: No worries.   Dwardazik: I don't really understand what the big deal is. Marvin seems like an all right guy!   Kesmet: It's a big deal to Barry, so it's a big deal.   Dwardazik: Whatever.   Dazki: The reason we ended up dealing with Annu is because we sort-of stumbled face-first into Turmoil.   Marvin: No shit!   Dazki: Yeah.   Kesmet: Not our fault, mind you!   Dwardazik: Yeah, we tried to avoid that.   Marvin: That sounds quite literal. Surely you didn't mean it literally?   Dazki: Not quite literally, but close.   Kesmet: I got punched in the face by those monks at least three times!   Dwardazik: Well, pretty literal. It nearly killed me.   Grogery: It turned out that Sir Baxton Mandrim was importing Turmoil and using it to do all sorts of numbers of horrible things. We ended up being in the middle of it.   Dwardazik: Not by choice, of course.   Marvin: There's always a choice, friends!   Kesmet: The choice was: a) die, or b) get rid of all the bad shit.   Marvin: Well, you're clearly still alive, so you got rid of all the bad shit, then, right?   Barry: And none of it was my fault, and we didn't run into more out of the town, and none of this is my fault! So... you don't have to worry about it, because... humans don't do things, so... we're all good, so...   Dwardazik: Yeah, as you know, humans can't do shit.   Dazki: We were trying to help another friend who sort-of got infected by Turmoil, but not completely losing their mind, so we were trying to do some research on it, and things got mixed up, and we got accused of being terrorists, and it was just a big ordeal.   Dwardazik: All right! Let's lay it all on the table!   Grogery: We got manipulated into doing things we probably shouldn't have, but we've undone all the damage we caused!   Dwardazik: Remember, guys. It doesn't matter what happened in the past. All that matters is that the Firelord labeled us heroes!   Barry: And if you fix the problems that you cause, then that is a net positive!   Dwardazik gives Barry a huge thumbs-up.   Dazki: So what stories have you been hearing about us, then? You mentioned having heard about people matching our descriptions?   Marvin: No, I heard about terrorists! But you guys, it sounds like you've been pardoned, or something?   Barry: Wait, you guys aren't criminals anymore?   Dazki: Nope! We all got pardons from the Firelord himself!   Barry: And Barry too, for murdering that person?   Dazki: Yep, Barry too.   Marvin: ...murdered?   Barry: Nope! Nobody murdered anybody, so you don't have to worry about it or go to the cops or anything!   Barry, a completely normal human, then begins slurping soup like a mad person.   Dazki: He had to... "take care of"... somebody in self-defense.   Barry: I shot a guy.   Marvin: Nice! Was it a good shot?   Dazki: It was a very good shot.   Dwardazik: Yeah, Barry over here is somewhat of an archer in training. He's a good shot!   Barry: Well, I mean, it's been great this evening, I think we should all go to bed in our separate room and not disturb each other!   Dazki: I've actually got a couple of letters to write and a book to copy, so I will be in my room working.