Session 7: Dusty Tomes & Dog Fights

General Summary

With feasting carrying on into the evening our heroes were questioned further by the tabaxi Lao, who had missed much of the early revelry. Here they discussed some of the things they had encountered in the mines and ruins in more detail: their encounter with Bargess, the skeletons in the underchambers, and the menacing black orb that whispered in draconic. A ripple of worry broke over the festivities as they discussed the orb.   “It said, we awake. We awaken. We await” remembered Aatavi.   When discussing it further only led to more questions, Elias turned to Aaura, “There’s a bookstore down in the merchant district” he offered, “It’s not a library in the style that you’re used to – but it may have a lead.”   With Lady Akamay, Elias, and the half elven woman (who had introduced herself as Millicent Thackery) taking their leave, the servants began to clear the many small plates and the heroes broke off for an evening’s rest. Walking out into the moonlit orchard, Keokan took a moment to focus himself. Kneeling on the earth he asked Dathar-Kane for a sign to guide him to his missing companion Thor. As a gentle rain began to fall, Keokan heard a wolf howl in the distance – not from the surrounding hills, but from somewhere deep within the city itself.   The party gathered the next morning and headed into the Brickward, the merchant district of Lasthome, named for its cobbled road and the many brick buildings collected there. They marveled at the diversity of the city, seeing elves, dwarves, and halflings going about their business, as well as other more exotic races such as centaurs and minotaurs milling about. Merchants at booths and fruit stands called to the heroes as they passed, including one particularly rough looking individual who stood near a number of caged chickens.   “Fighting Chickens! Fighting Chickens!”   He pointed a dirty finger at Aatavi. “YOU sir! You look like a man who enjoys a cock fight, step right up and peruse the finest fighting chickens in all of Lasthome!”   A puzzled look ran across Aatavi’s face.   “Just 5 silver for a fighting chicken! Purchase a fighting chicken from me and its sure to make you a tidy sum down in The Dragon’s Fang in Ironpoints!”   Aatavi shook his head, not understanding, “What is this?”   “Ah!” The chicken hawker’s face broke into a smile. He would have to speak slowly to the barbarian. “You buy the chicken, you take the chicken, and then you fight the chickens down at The Dragon’s Fang.” “You fight the chickens?” asked Aatavi.   “That’s right, that’s right” replied the peddler. A gleam in his eye, he held a scarred and tattered rooster up to the barbarian’s face.   With a meaty hand, Aatavi swiftly backhanded the rooster out of the man’s grasp; a flurry of feathers and chicken mote clouding the air.   “HEY! What in the name of the Gods do you think you’re doing?” protested the vendor.   “You said you fight chickens, so I fight chicken.  It is not a very good fighting chicken” replied Aatavi.   “That’s not… what in the hells… listen pal that’s not how we do things around here! That cocks for sale! Gods, look at it now!”   They glanced at the chicken. It regarded them with crooked beak and crossed its eyes before squawking drunkenly.   Having seen enough Aaura interceded. “How much for the chicken?”   “I have half a mind to call the city guard” the man said, eyeing Aaura’s purse. “Normally the chickens are 5 silver but because of the added inconvenience I am going to have to ask for 1 gold piece now.”   “Done.”   Placing a gold piece in the man’s hand, Aaura scooped up the dazed chicken and placed it in Aatavi’s arms. “Congratulations” she said, “You have a chicken.”   Still unsure of what was going on Aatavi watched as Aaura made her way up a set of stone stairs and into a nearby storefront. The sign out front identified it as “The The Sage's Word & Book Depository”   The inside of the shop was dimly lit and crammed nearly floor to ceiling with dusty tomes and old books. The Sage’s Word was overseen by Georgina Frankle, a gregarious gnomish woman who was excited to help Aaura, recognizing her immediately as a member of the Circle of Aquorra. As Aaura and the others rummaged through the stacks looking for clues about the orb they had discovered in the ruins, Aatavi and Keokan began to stroll through the city.   Never before had either of them been in a city this size. They took note of the fancy houses on top of the hill, the tall brick buildings, and the alleys that cut between them. Although a stranger here, Keokan moved with purpose. They soon found themselves in the rough and tumble neighborhood known as “The Ironpoints” standing in front of a dingy looking saloon named “The Dragon’s Fang.”   As a drunk stumbled out of the swinging doors the sounds of a cheering mob mixed with snarling dogs poured into the street. Keokan strode through the tavern with Aatavi close behind. As they walked into the open-air courtyard beyond their eyes came upon a wide pit dug into the red earth where a large white wolf was fighting against two vicious looking worgs.   Keokan’s eyes narrowed. This was Thor, the great white wolf that had guided him from his herd in the Pillars of Winter, somehow trapped and brought to fight for his life in the back alleys of Lasthome. The crowd was whipped into a frenzy as the wolf dispatched both worgs and gave a triumphant howl.   As the coin changed hands amongst the crowd and a pair of men climbed into the pit to subdue the wolf, Keokan leapt down to defend his friend. At the far end of the pit, a gray skinned dwarf yelled at him, “HEY! HEY! What the FUCK is going on? What do you think you’re doing?!”   The crowd quieted as Keokan replied, “You need to stop. You and your men, need to stop.”   A few confused moments followed with a deal: if Keokan could best the dwarf in a pit fight, he could take the wolf for himself. When the goliath agreed, the dwarf nimbly jumped into the pit and brought forth a wicked looking morning star.   “Non-lethal, of course” he grinned. Unpinning a silver badge from his chest and whipping it to a compatriot above, the dwarf started a slow circle, sizing up his opponent. “Well, don’t just stand there people” he cried, “place yer bets!”   A frenzy of money began to change hands above the pit, when Aatavi suddenly caught sight of a familiar face. Approaching him, a flagon of ale in her hand, was a tall, black haired firbolg. This was Anais, a mercenary who had helped him on his journey from Delvingshore weeks before.   “Aatavi!” she smiled. “It’s good to see you!”   After a brief moment to catch up (and showing Aatavi how to place a bet) they turned their attention to the pit below.   The crowd roared as the two combatants traded blows, the dwarf slamming his morningstar into the goliath’s side - while Keokan spun and whirled his scimitars in return. With blood, sweat, and a cursing THUD the dwarf dropped to the ground and the goliath stood victorious. As the audience murmured and exchanged their markers Keokan approached the wolf, bound and muzzled at ringside. After slipping the yoke off its body and freeing its jaws, the wolf rubbed its blood stained face against the goliath’s thigh in appreciation.   Both Aatavi and Keokan watched as a few in the crowd eyed them suspiciously. Deciding not to overstay their welcome they left The Dragon’s Fang with Anais and the wolf in tow.   Making their way back to the Brickward, they soon caught up with Faelyn , Shadow , and Aaura as they were exiting The Sage’s Word. Introductions were made all around as the rest of the group met Anais and the white wolf, who Keokan called “Thor.”   The group stuck together for the rest of the morning, heading in briefly to Ms. Fern's Fine Clothier, where Faelyn flirted the proprietor into a discount on a fine emerald green cloak and matching gloves, and then to Madame Thackery's Apothecarium, where they purchased a round of healing potions from the friend they had met the previous night during Lady Akamay’s feast.   Anais was well known to Madame Thackery and excused herself with a farewell as she headed into a back room to talk over business. “Take care of yourself, Aatavi… and your chicken” she added with a smile.   The chicken twisted its head and looked stupidly at the barbarian. Remembering some odd adventure with Anais from weeks before Aatavi spoke.   “His name…. is Rocky.”