Black Memories, Yellow Towers (City of Splendors #13)

Zloton,
 
Yagra and the kids cleaned up last night. Jenks was so exhausted from all the cooking that he fell asleep almost immediately. Poor thing. He did not have a manic kitchen childhood to prepare him.
 
Last night was so packed full of satisfied tongues. Looser tongues too; there was much talking. Jehearna talked about the hag that we defeated. Ristrien talked to Algeroon about this temple he is constructing. I talked to Tozi about corn based crusts and Bolu’s eyes glazed over in boredom. He brightened when Nettie talked to him about champion dinosaur riders. She asked him if he had a blue dragon which confused him, but their discussion grew deeper in time. Bolu confided that his sister died and his old brotherly instinct takes to Tozi. That resonated with me. Nettie has reminded me of my sister more than once and such instincts die hard.
 
 
Nettie was talking about feeding Fluffy treats as I admired Maloon Wardragon’s blue tinted axe. He’s a member of Force Grey which works for the Blackstaff, which I think is the head wizard in the city? I need to reread Volo’s pamphlet.
 
Guildhall Day fast approaches. Apparently businesses are supposed to hand out samples in the street, so naturally Nettie and I are scheming. She’s going to have this whole puppet show with singing and I’m going to hand out samples
 
Flynn’s old mentor Halfbear, Pete and Thann had a lovely chat about brews.
 
Guildhall Day. However, the Sea Maiden faire parades coincide with the festival, which means we'll have to have to miss that part of festivities. We intend to understand the true nature of the Zord’s men. We think they were the drow we met at Gralhund Manor, but we have to be sure.
 
But that is a plan for the future.
 
 
Yagra says we should talk to her imprisoned boss, Davill Starsong, Master of Opportunities and Negotiations. What a great title! He's a sun elf that dabbles in magic, like me and we're going to visit him.
 
Nettie and Ristrien went to the bookstore next door. I sent along with them some food, since he seemed too introverted to go to our grand opening.
 
While there, they bought The Negotiator by Yorn Grishamal. It's for Davil, to pass the time while imprisoned. Hopefully he likes it!
 
We went over to Castle Waterdeep and caught a glimpse of the Griffon Cavalry. I recall some of them flew over the fireball incident outside my restaurant.
 
We managed to get a conversation with him in private. Davill has Blond hair and green eyes. A sun elf, if I remember Yagra correctly.
 
Nettie waved and he brightened. “Oh, you. Loved your Tuesday performances.”
 
I have yet to see someone who didn't perk up at Nettie's presence.
 
Davill was amiable and helpful. He told us about the Xanathar and Zhentarim rivalry. Manshoon had the potato and sent emissaries to negotiate with Xanathar, but it didn't work out. Now it's with Xanathar.
 
 
He also tells us Manshoon lives in a wizarding tower right here in the city. His people teleport in and out of it, so it would be hard to discover which one he was in. But we might find out more at the base we know about, namely the Yellow Spire. Davill tells us Amath Serccent owns it. She is a Priestess of Bane, god of strife and tyranny.
 
Charming.
 
We go this afternoon.
 
Zloton,
 
I write with a buzz in my ear. The adrenaline has not left my blood.
 
The Yellow spire is a two story tower up against a cliff. It has a small attached outhouse, and rickety scaffolding on the outside.
 
Grisby climbed that scaffolding to get a clear view through the window. He told Ristrien that there were 5 people in ritualistic prayer, surrounding a human, shackled, blindfolded and stripped down.
 
There were also 3 black Flying snakes among the rafters that thankfully didn't see Grisby.
 
The walls were five feet thick, so there was nothing to do but go through the front door.
 
So we did, entering a 25 by 30 ft vestibule draped in rotting tapestries. There was a blackened chair next to the fireplace.
 
We glanced at the cellar: it had a circle table, playing cards, 4 barrel chairs and an ominous metal door in the basement.
 
But that was not why we were here.
 
We climbed the stairs up. We had a plan. Nettie would cause this explosive display to distract everyone as she tosses a coin infused with a magical silence. The goal was to prevent the priestess from calling on her dark god. I intended to cast grease to hopefully hold her there.
 
Nettie did her part of the plan spectacularly, as always. My fumbling feet came up behind her. I saw a glimpse of their ritualistic circle and I *could not move*.
 
All the memories of that basement rushed back to my mind. I saw someone who was experiencing my terror; someone who was experiencing my despair and for a moment, I felt it all again as if it was new.
 
Nettie cast heat metal on the priestess. Ristrien missed with her stamp. Thankfully, the priestess missed with her short sword as well. But then her guards hit Ristrien, and then Nettie, and then Pete.
 
Snakes flew down from the rafters. One bit Flynn and two bit Nettie. Pete hit the priestess with his war pick and then again with a summoned spectral rat.
 
I watched all this, frozen in place. I was supposed to cast grease to slow them down. I was supposed to *help* them.
 
Tiamat, Lolth, Bane. It was all the same. I’m sure you balk at that generalization, but in moments such as these, their differences make no difference. I looked at the bound man and felt like I was looking at a younger version of myself. I made a promise all those years ago not to die in a place like that and I panicked at the thought of breaking that oath here and now.
 
Above the sudden visceral fear, an old, but clear thought surfaced: I am a dead man.
 
I’ve been a dead man since I emerged from that basement years ago. Every breath afterward is a blessing, every morsel a gift to be savored. I have nothing to fear. I’ve already won. Every moment I live is time I steal out from under a god. Why cower in the face of such sweet victory? Why seize up at the memory of my greatest triumph?
 
Grease fell upon the acolytes and I was delighted even when just one fell down. I had to help their victim. It was fact. I could not leave someone in the clutches of a priest of a god like that.
 
Flynn leapt higher than any normal man and flipped for good measure. His psionic sword hit the priestess. Nettie burned her with the heated metal of her armor yet again. Ristrien blasted a snake and it spiraled into the guard in front of Pete, blinding him so that he missed Pete. Guards struck Flynn and Ristrien, and Grisby nailed a snake, but it still managed to hit me, as another hit Nettie. Pete hit a guard with his blinded comrade.
 
Snake barrelled forward, but I didn't duck. My death is inevitable and I’m not frightened of it. I Frost blasted the thing out of the sky.
 
Flynn ran a cultist through with his sword. Nettie missed her shot, but Ristrien summoned a starry aura around her and it struck at everything around her. True magic. It must be.
 
A guard fell and soon another joined him. Pete killed a guard and his spectral rat feasted on his body.
 
The priestess fell and we freed their prisoner. Shan chien he's called. He apparently writes for the broadsheets. They had him imprisoned for a week, trying to brainwash him so that he would write what they wanted him to write.
 
I wanted to comfort him, but I was at a loss at what to say. I doubted a wordsmith such as he would have been impressed with anything I'd come up with.
 
We found keys on the priestess and they opened an iron door in the basement where we found a teleportation circle.
 
A real teleportation circle! We asked some friends who know things and they think you would need some sort of additional key to work the circle, but it should be a way to Manshoon’s lair.
 
Maybe.
 
I'll write more later.