First Steps in Mirabar

We all slept in the next morning. Eventually, Adrik shouted us awake and together we all set out for the trek back to the Blackford Road. It took the majority of the day before the familiar walls of the Frosty Tankard came into view around a bend in the road. After being served a very hearty dinner and some of the eponymous drinks by Bert, we all shared some more stories with Adrik and his companions. They told us about their exploits in and around Mirabar and mentioned, that in the upper city the Red Barrel was a good inn for a first stop if one wanted food, drink and rumours while in the subterranean half of the city, the Iron Hearth was a fairly welcoming establishment. Although that part of course only was accessible to its inhabitants. Whether we would be able to get in as Grum’s escorts was not entirely certain. Grum however mused that the Red Barrel was indeed an interesting spot and that for years he had wanted to steal its namesake from the main tavern area. Apparently, it was like a local sport or dare for some claim to fame if one managed to purloin the rather large keg. Fuelled by more drinks and tales, the evening soon drew to a close and all of us were glad to be sleeping in a proper bed again.
 
When we awoke on the next morning, the other troupe had already departed. Thus, after a quick breakfast we saddled our mounts and continued our journey to Grum’s homestead. The next three days saw little excitement, though I cannot stop marvelling at the mountainous landscape around us. The roughness of the land and the constant vista of the snow-capped peaks looming not far above us has an impressive aesthetic that will certainly be fuel for one or two new songs. Every so often there were smaller paths branching off the main road with signs calling out mines or smaller villages. Occasionally there were other roadside inns although we only stopped to sleep at night and otherwise kept moving.
In the late afternoon of the third day, our destination came in sight. Mirabar, the northern-most and perhaps richest city in the Sword Coast rises high between the deep gorges that carry the rivers that here join to form the Mirar. Its massive walls appear as a seamless extension of the cliffs falling down towards the water. Heavy drawbridges cross the canyons and lead to fortified gatehouses, wide enough for two carts to easily travel side by side. The walls as well as the gate are under constant patrol of the Axe of Mirabar, the standing army of the city. On immediate first impression it becomes blatantly obvious that this place has seen it’s fair share of battles, sieges and other catastrophes and yet holds an iron will to relentlessly stand its ground, opposing all the threats the Spine of the World holds for civilisation.
As we approached, various carts of presumed mining exploits made their way in and out of the city. Grum led us to the guards at the gate, stating his name and citizenship of Mirabar and proclaimed we had important news from the south to share with some of the people in charge. Despite being recognised, it did not go unnoticed that upon a seeming glance toward his striking beard the men and women at the gate seemed to be unable to hide an almost mocking grin. Even back in the Frosty Tankard we noticed that the people of these lands seemed to have a rather strict fashion with regards to facial hair styles and apparently Grum was a lot more liberal about this apparently very central tradition. Nonetheless we were welcomed in without much hassle and were finally allowed to cross the wooden drawbridge into the outskirts of the upper city. As we walked by, we caught a glimpse of an extensive harbour far below us about which Grum explained that the only direct path there led through the lower city. He further pointed out that this was one of three gates, the others being at the south side with another bridge across the second of the joining rivers and on the north side, underground, leading deeper into the mountains. Given the city’s predilection for trade it was no surprise that each gate is surrounded by several proprietors of caravansaries. Once we had passed through the almost ten paces wide walls and scaled the steep path leading to the upper city, we found ourselves amidst squat stone houses and the bustling crowd of a crafts and artisan district. Much to my personal surprise, the overall populus appeared a lot more varied where I had expected predominantly dwarves. But while elven features seemed less common in these parts, Moradin’s children share this place with a colourful collection of humans, halflings and gnomes. I even spotted a few other tieflings in the crowd.
Grum headed straight for the Red Barrel, us in tow. We went past the Undercity Square where our friend explained was not only the largest market square in the upper city but also a large platform that allowed travel between the two layers even with bigger carts. And true to his words, just as we walked past, a bell rang and a round dais with a covered wagon and a handful of smaller carts began slowly descending, bringing the dozen or so people and their vehicles quickly out of view on their way downwards.
Eventually, we entered the tavern where the eponymous barrel stood rather prominent in the centre of a large main room. Had we expected a regular, red coloured keg, gods would we have been wrong. The barrel was almost as high as the room, measuring a good two or three paces in diameter. Around it, on smaller barrels, the countertop was placed, forming a central round bar at which despite the early hour a good few patrons were drinking and talking away the afternoon. Warm fire light, mixed with what daylight made it down into the tavern and an assortment of seating arrangements made for a welcoming, cozy atmosphere. Grum walked up to an older dwarf (meaning he definitely must be in his hundreds), greeting him heartily as Thorin and introducing us to the proprietor of this establishment. The innkeeper welcomed us all with a broad smile and quicker than we really processed presented all of us with a mug of Thorin’s Superbrew, apparently his most sought-after line of beer, which indeed was rivalling Grum’s own products in quality. According to Thorin, the Rockbrew beer was on the decline ever since Grum’s father withdrew from the business, upon which I definitely noticed a slight twitch in my old friend. Hard to say with Grum what emotion exactly accompanied this revelation, but I can’t imagine it being a too pleasant one. Thorin must have sensed the same as he quickly changed subject and grinningly asked if Grum if he still had an eye on that barrel of his which equally brought a sly grin on his face as he replied that it was hard to forget something that magnificent. In the ensuing conversation, we learned that at least as far as the innkeeper was concerned, the commotion in the mines was nothing much out of the ordinary and he trusted the Axe to make quick work of whatever was going on. We learned that the seat of the Lords’ Alliance here was in the Undercity, similar to most of the older trading families and businesses. We shared some of the news we brought from Neverwinter, and he expressed a special interest in the Stoneseekers, as he had heard tale of the liberation of some ancient mine in the Sword Mountains. I did not hesitate long before I grabbed my trusted lyra and began weaving the ballad of “An Echo In The Cave”.
As the first chord filled the tavern, I instantly realised how much I had missed this. I barely noticed the heads of the other patrons turning our way as I quickly lost myself in the tale I was telling, the interplay of melody and harmonies and the expression of tension and adventure. Soon, the only thing I sensed was my own breath and my fingers dancing on the strings of Rattlepike’s old instrument. No cheap tricks of magical enhancements this time, I was simply enjoying the purest form of the art I had grown to love over the last three decades. Any sense of time vanished. Only by the end of it, as the last notes rung out, awareness came back to me as the cheers of the crowd reached my ears. There is just nothing better than entertaining folk and giving them a brief moment of relief from whatever things they might be wrestling with in their own life. Whilst I was revelling in the rush of performance, Kyla and Nysqwen were rather quick in accepting the coins the audience was willing to spare for this impromptu spectacle. Thorin came over to me with a wide grin and proclaimed if ever I wanted to play at a later point in the evening with more folk gathered around, I was quite welcome to do so.
A little while and a few drinks later, we all were contemplating how to continue from here. Grum was rather eager to see Quercus as soon as possible and thus this would likely be our plan for the following day given the at this stage rather low sun. Nysqwen, Kyla and Teynos were keen to try some pebble baths for the evening whilst Grum was just happy to have a chat with Thorin and an early night’s rest. As for myself, I was burning with curiosity for this new and wonderous city and thus decided to take a bit of a stroll.
 
Wandering through the streets, it became rather obvious how wealthy the city must be. In the evening sun, every so often small semiprecious stones glinted with an orange hew along the curbs, many entrances to larger buildings were embossed with particularly shiny pieces of metal. Grum had told us about the knowledge of creating everbright pieces being specific to Mirabar and they seemed eager to demonstrate the world its beauty. The display was not overbearing but certainly noticeable and had a stark contrast to the district of especially my youth. The overall atmosphere was exuberant, the ending of the workday caused a great many toasts to be called from the various inns around the city and people in the street were bantering about mostly inconsequential things. The attacks we had heard about in Neverwinter did not seem to be much of a conversation topic at least in this part of town. After a while, I noticed two figures clad in darker leathers and with their faces mostly hidden by fur-lined hoods. I gave in to a gut feeling and began following their steps through more narrow alleys, taking care to stay unnoticed by the duo. Eventually they stopped at a fork in the jitty. Small bits of their conversation were carried by the wind, and I overheard something about sabotage around Mithral Hall although I was unable to glean whether they were the ones sabotaging or the target of said meddling. Not wanting to risk detection, as they headed off, I decided to return to the main streets. Being caught up in these things alone and on the very first evening in the city just would not sit right with me.
Instead, I turned my attention to finding what I had been told was called the Borough. Not far off the central Undercity Square, I came upon a small park with a still pond that reflected the last of the sun’s light for the day onto the surrounding buildings. In moving past, with one of those reflections I caught the brief glint of the symbol of the Harpers on the side of a small, somewhat crooked building with a single chimney that stood off in an odd angle. After my knocking on the door remained unanswered, casting a brief glance over my shoulder for any suspicious onlookers, I opened the door and entered the house. Having the declared aim in my head to converse with Adran, the Fox, I found myself in a cozy study, not unlike Nissa’s office in Neverwinter. Though, this seemed a little bit more chaotic and smaller, whilst at the same time having significantly more cushions around. Behind the central desk sat an elven man of undeterminable age. His facial features surprisingly closely resembled those of a dark-furred fox that curled on the desk between us as he looked up to me from inquisitive brown eyes.
As I introduced myself and stated how I came here, his expression softened and he bade me to tell the full tale of how I became tangled up with the Harpers, confirming that he indeed was the man I was looking for. I gave him the abbreviated tale of our adventures over the last two or so months and especially pointed out the encounters with Lystramon and the suspected drow activities all across the greater Neverwinter region. He listened intently, thanked me for the news and accepted my offer of help for the next while. He agreed that there might be something bigger going on that one should keep an eye on. He equally would let me know if he learned of any further developments. No wanting to immediately strain this new connection, I decided to keep my questions with regards to missing people to myself for now. Let’s see how this Fox will play out over our next interactions.
With these new impressions in tow, I made my way back to the Red Barrel, though not without stopping at a local notice board and noting down some of the tasks that were on display. A successful evening overall and now I shall be glad to fall asleep to the more familiar nightly sounds of drunkards, wandering guards and snoring from adjacent rooms. The road certainly is an exciting place with many wonderous sights, but cities are just so much more homely!