Waxter supplied them with some cold meat pies, and told a much grander story recounting their adventures; including the dinner with Mordai Vell and the sparring match with the students of battle in the Courtyard of Castle Never; none of the group shared what disturbing dreams they had experienced the night before.
Almost as if to punctuate his sentence, a messenger arrived, with letters for Lord Vell and packages for several of the adventurers. Kerith recieved shoes like the ones she had discussed with Mordai; and Mishann was given a basket of everlasting provisions, to share with his companions to slake his massive hunger.
The first order of business was to met Master Vell at the Hall of Justice, where they would speak with him and listen as Mayor of Neverwinter, Soman Galt dealt with petitions. Upon arriving, and finding that Mordai Vell had cancelled at the last minute, the adventurers decided instead to leave and seek out information on their own power.
The first stop was the Docks district, where Ser Shadowleaf was brazenly seeking out Ven Brados by searching through the mercantile section for anyone who knew of the man. Frustrated with his lack of progress, Ser asked for the assistance of his companions, who were able to dig a little deeper. Speaking with an unknown merchant, it was discovered that not only did many in the area know of Ven Brados, but he was universally feared, and many who could have otherwise helped the investigation refused to help, out of intimidation.
Determined to get answers, the adventurers tried a more forceful route, intimidating the merchant themselves. Although he wet himself out of fear, he was unable to give them the information he required- although he was able to tell them that Ven Brados typically did his dealings and auctions at night. None of the adventurers noticed Gortham, a local contact, watching the exchange.
The adventurers returned to the Hall of Justice to meet with Soman Galt, the Mayor of Neverwinter under Lord Neverember’s regime. Using the name of Mordai Vell, the Mintarn Mercenaries were quick to take the group to a comfortable sitting room, although two of the party, Waxter and Rain disappeared to run a quick errand in the Blacklake District.
After an awkward conversation with the Mayor, and much uncomfortable staring, the Mayor excused himself, and the group left to try and track their missing companions. Sonja, with her unparalleled sense of smell, was able to follow the faint and musty scent of wet dog across the river to the Blacklake District, where the group noticed strange symbols occaisonally etched into the walls. Ser identified these as the marks of Asmodeus, God of Evil and Lord of Devils, Tyrant of the Nine Hells. It was disturbing to the group that there were tributes laid beneath some of the symbols, but they quickly caught up to Waxter and Rain, and were on their way again.
A return to the marketplace to search for word of the Priestess of Selune, an eladrin woman called Lady Yasmine, was quickly fruitful, and it was learned that the priestesses typically performed rituals and ceremonies at moon rise. There was a young woman selling what she called ‘Dream Thief Dolls,’ in the marketplace, claiming they prevented bad dreams. For a lock of your hair (or loose scale), and a few gold, you could have blissful dreamless sleep. Several of the party, remembering the disturbing dreams they had experienced the night before, quickly made the purchase. Upon watching the girl, it became clear that she was favoring her left arm, keeping her right arm out of the way and protecting it. The group tugged back her sleeve, only to discover that the girl was hiding a spellscar, which she tearfully apologized for. Mishann, suffering from the effects of a spellscar himself, comforted the girl, shared his secret, and told her that he would protect her. The girl offered him up a piece of information- if he wanted to know anything about spell plague or spellscars, he should talk to the Prophet Rohini in Helm’s Hold.
Continuing toward the wall, the adventurers spotted a tall bell tower, which they were informed was the highest bell of the House of Knowledge, the temple of Oghma. Passing by the temple, they were surprised to find the place in disrepair, with doors missing, and a large congregation of refugees huddled within its walls. Exploring the group quickly, they were able to finally locate Lady Yasmine, the eladrin cleric of Selune, who stood out from the crowd in both hopeful manner and white robes.
After some discussion, Lady Yasmine detailed the ritual to free oneself from the curse of lycanthropy; a simple three-step ritual that would require the blood of the wolf that bit you, silver to counteract the magic, and a moonstone to bind the curse. A greater form of the ritual was also know, using the powers of the Tears of Selune to break the curse completely. Lady Yasmine offered that although she did not have a Tear of Selune yet, they often fell from the sky, so it was possible for the adventurers to find them in their travels.
Relief from the curse within reach, the adventurers gathered components and prepared for the nighttime ritual. But they wanted to see the famed ‘wall of Neverwinter,’ and earn money to pay their expenses, and for new equipment. The welcome at the wall was abbreviated, as while the Captain of the Mintarn, Durnham Shaw, and the dwarven leader of the Neverwinter Regulars, who did not have the chance to introduce himself before the bell tower began ringing in the distance. The Mintarn captain explained that the refugees in the tower rang the bell when a horde of spell-changed creatures were approaching the wall, to allow soldiers to prepare themselves. It was not clear what the refugees hoped to gain in return.
In a desperate and dangerous fight, one that claimed the lives of several of the brave Neverwinter citizens, the horde was pushed back, slaughtered and leaving the adventurers feeling dizzy and nauseous. While the Mintarn mercenaries celebrated another battle survived on the wall, the Neverwinter citizens quietly dressed wounds and cared for the dead- neither side seemed to want help from the other. It was a moment of disquiet, and it seemed to stretch on as the sun faded. Although the shift was far from over, the mercenaries claimed that a daily attack was typical, and only something extraordinary would bring the spellchanged creatures back for another round.
Noddius Maximus – Mintarn mercenary; probably not a fake name
Soman Galt – dwarven Mayor of Neverwinter, appointed by Lord Neverember to run the city in his stead. Seems distracted, doesn’t like people staring at him for too long.
Lady Yasmine – priestess of Selune, eladrin with white hair, pearled eyes, and clean white robes. She’s peaceful and shares hope wherever she goes.
Durnham Shaw – Captain of the Mintarn Mercenaries on the wall (which comprise about three-quarters of the fighting force on the Wall), he is grudgingly respected by his men, but doesn’t seem to be liked by either them or the Neverwinter Regulars.
Adrick – Dwarven leader within the Neverwinter Regulars, his ranking (if any) is unclear.
People who know of you
Seldra Tylmarande – who??!?!
Gortham – some contact of Mordai Vells, a drow who keeps himself to the underdocks.
Ven Brados – although he may not know who you are yet, he surely soon will. Apparently some sort of Crime Boss that’s untouchable in the Docks District.
- A lowly unnamed merchant
- Plague-changed Horrors
- Plague-changed Drakes
- Hall of Justice
- Blacklake District
- Winged Wyvern Bridge
- Docks District
- Protectorate’s Marketplace
- House of Knowledge
- The Wall
TIMES SORANNIS HAS FORCEFULLY TELEPORTED KERITH AGAINST HER WILL
ENDING PC STATUS
PCs have attained second level.
The following is a retelling of certain events, from the perspective of Ser.
The distant bell tolled thrice, signaling the oncoming attack. It seemed fitting, then, in that calm moment before the looming battle, that the wind would pick up and blow at Sorannis’ long hair. Yellow strands lightly whipped at his face, and the moon elf narrowed his eyes, otherwise making no movement. From his position atop the wall, he could just make out the pressing throng of spell-plagued beasts, rushing forward through the blasted alleyways.
It had been an interesting set of events that had led Ser and his companions to their spot on the wall. Annoying and unnecessary sparring with those he considered his allies were the least of the upsets Ser had experienced that day, though the insult of that particular matter still weighed heavily on the warrior. Afterwards, they had all received letters from their host from the night before, Mordai Vell, and nothing good had come from them.
Never one for broadcasting his personal business, Sorannis nevertheless shared his letter with the rest of the group, seeing no need for present secrecy. His letter spoke of a possible lead in finding some of the stolen artifacts he had been sent to recover, and an upfront approach seemed the best way to enlist the aid of the group. Thus, they started out to the market place in search of a particular black market dealer.
The search returned little of anything profitable. The one merchant they found who was even willing to admit knowing the group’s target was utterly unwilling to help them contact the man. Sorannis began to understand more fully the xenophobic hatred many of his brethren felt for outsiders. Here before him was a man fully able to help, but wholly unwilling to do so at any price!
In disgust, Ser took the uncooperative merchant hurtling through the folds of reality to appear on top of his shop, and then shifted back to ground level, leaving the hapless man stuck on his own roof. While not the most noble of actions, Ser was having a bad day, and he pressed on, forcing his behavior from his mind, stubbornly refusing to feel guilty. It was no easy task, and the act only served to further his bad mood.
It was decided, then, that perhaps the group track down a particular priestess of Selune, the moon goddess, so that their two werewolf allies might be cured of their lycanthropy. Predictably, however, the priestess was nowhere to be found, and all anyone could offer was that she was likely to appear when the moon rose. Being that it was the middle of the day, moonrise was not to be for many more hours, and so that avenue was blocked to them as well!
At this point, Sorannis’ frustration at everything was so great that he truly felt he needed to kill something to feel better. When the suggestion of fighting on the wall was made, he eagerly agreed, and they all made their way there. The party was largely accepted with gratitude, though a few of the warriors eyed them all suspiciously. It was no matter to the moon elf warrior, however, as he was about to prove himself in battle.
The horde was upon them. Ugly, misshapen humanoids rushed forward, and great lizard-like beasts climbed the wall. One man was grabbed and tossed him down to the ground on the wrong side. While others battled on around him, Ser’s sense of honor and duty finally kicked back in, and he saw a way to redeem himself, if only in his own eyes, for his previous treatment of the merchant.
Striking another of the great, twisted lizards and using the force of his blow to send him through the dimensions between realities, Sorannis was off the wall and on the ground without having actually moved at all. Ignoring the imminent danger of the large creature he was still near, the moon elf ran over to the fallen warrior, grabbed him, and brought them both back up to the top of the wall, using the dimensional passageways with which he was so familiar.
As quick as he could, Ser struck that same lizard, likely a distorted version of a rage drake, again as hard as his minor magical dweomers would allow. Kerith, that annoying half-elf girl, jumped down the wall to street level, proclaiming loudly that she was, “Teleporting,” like Sorannis. She hit the ground hard, but found her feet below her and proceeded to hack at the drake with her axes. Right with her, the tiefling, Waxter, was on the ground, having shouted some similar remark. Sorannis swore at them in his thoughts, but he too jumped down, landing on his feet, and swung again at the large drake.
It was over just as quickly as it had started, but off in the distance, the bell rung again, three more times. Ser swiped his blade through the air in a crisp salute to the new adversaries, quickly advancing on the defenders, and smiled. This was exactly what he had been needing all day!