Lord Mayor Montaire’s note to Victoria

My daughter, try to understand. The mansion was, and has always been, an embarassing stain on our family’s reputation. When my father abandoned it, he told me, in no uncertain terms, that it was cursed ground, and that we were to avoid it at all costs. Now that it has collapsed completely, and has been tied to this sordid affair involving vampires and monsters, well…it was time to absolve ourselves of it completely.

And as for gifting it to the Draconic Brotherhood, well, that was a masterstroke on my part. Adventurers, you see, love mystery. They will spend time poking about the ruins, teasing answers from the rubble. They may solve the riddle of why my father abandoned the place to begin with, or they may not, but it will keep them interested and involved in the city affairs either way, while, at the same time, keeping them busy. And perhaps they may make some use of that useless property.

You may, perhaps, have noticed that times are dark indeed. This business with the dockworkers and Gaston is ugly, and it brings unrest. We need to be seen making some positive steps for the people, or we may find ourselves with their spears at our throats. I cannot believe I was such a fool as to not notice what foul business Gaston was involved with. This makes us on the council look particularly bad, and I am not keen on having a fetch of myself merrily on fire in my back yard.

Victoria, you are still young, and you have much to learn before you are able to take my place. You cannot alienate those who would support you, because they are the foundations upon which all our fortunes depend. With the Merchant’s Guild gone, and Bulrick pulling his little stunt, we are more vulnerable than ever. So we must ensure that we have allies of our own. The Fiendslayers in particular are a powerful force. See what changes they have wrought on our city in only a month’s time!

There are those with sharpened knives in the dark who are waiting only for us to give the appearance of working against the interests of the common man to strike. The White Foxes may be a myth, but it is a legend that I am not interested in testing. I know Rali hurt you. I have heard you cry at night. And I will, in time, ensure that she pays for the harm she has caused your heart. But that time is not now. Now is the time to embrace the adventurers with open arms.

Bodak Steelgrinder’ Memoirs

This must be what they mean when they talk about the price of success. I’ve gotten, like, 15 different job offers in the last three days alone. It’s time to expand…and damn do I wish I had that twenty grand now. It would help to be able to hire new talent. The Slayers are doing so well that it’s like a curse, because I can’t keep up.

I remember those days. Back when it was all new and fresh, and I thought that, as long as I had a strong team to back me up, I could take on the whole world! Aslar’s party cured me of that. But hey, they haven’t had a total wipe yet. That’s beating the odds, especially for a team that size. Lots of roster changes, yes, but no outright mass replacements.

I wonder how long that can last, though. I’d like to split them up, to be able to tackle more at once, but I don’t think that’s going to work well. I’ve gotten a few new recruits, though. Jil is shaping up to be a fine warrior. I’m worried about her revenge focus, but that’s manageable. And Pierre came crawling back. I don’t want to let the little weasel work for me again, but I need to find adventurers somewhere.

I’ll talk to the Slayers. Perhaps they can find some fresh-faced heroes willing to step up.

Marcel’s Journal

It seemed so new to us, back then. A world filled with possibility, after the horrors that the Dark Army had inflicted on our lands. We knew, those of us who had been chosen by The Emperor himself, that we had a mission – to protect this world, this shining bastion from the forces that would destroy it, as Avaleron had been corrupted and destroyed. I and my new bride, Leroux and his newborn half-elven daughter, Lianna, and so many others crossed from the Feywild, leaving its beauty behind, for beauty of another sort. And is that no Amyra’s wish? To preserve beauty?

We weren’t the first generation of the White Fox to arrive here. We came to help the society that was already well-established grow and flourish. Yet things are different here. The humans can be so quick to let their greed, ambition, or fear get the better of their good natures. Our own offspring, the half elves, have as much of one parent as the other, both well and ill. We must be ever vigilant that one does not take more than a fair, earned share. I have always believed it best to try and teach through Amyra’s love the true path, but there are times when love, sadly, is not the answer, and the call to arms must be made.

But the price of vigilance is, of course, that you see things. And I have seen terrible things. The Doom of Abbeville was caused by someone overextending their reach, grasping at powers not even the gods would dare to take. And here, in St. Clarice, the dwarf who has kept this city secure has finally let his avarice overcome his sense of honor. Such a shame.

But there is more shame still, and it comes from a place I once called my home. A decade ago, changelings began to come through the Shroudmist Gate, with horrible claims – my people, my own flesh and blood, were hunting them down. Slaughtering them! A systematic attempt to wipe the changelings from existence. I could scarcely believe it. I didn’t at first, but more and more arrived with the same stories, it became impossible to ignore. The Fox came together, a meeting of minds that hadn’t happened in decades, and we decided that we should help them. Leroux suggested the method—a series of safe houses and contacts, allowing the changelings to utilize their natural abilities to blend in with the people of this world.

The Underground came into place, with each of the Foxes trusting the others to do their part. But something is wrong. Very wrong. I should have seen the warning signs long ago-wondered why we never received word of how the people we placed were doing save vague assurances that they were fine. The reports of attacks on our caravans growing ever more frequent. I should have seen that something was very, very wrong before this point. But, blinded by my trust in my fellows, and my vain hope that this may still have only been some gross misunderstanding, I may have been letting something monstrous bloom in the garden I hoped to cultivate.

The Wild Hunt arrived, asking permission to peruse the records kept by the Church. No, demanding permission, on the orders of the Lady of Minas Elendrii. And my wife Angelique quailed in fear at them, and told me that she had seen their faces before—on the bandits that nearly ended her life, scarcely a month ago.

The Wild Hunt is here. They are openly hunting those we swore to save. My own empire, for whom I once would have given my life, has turned into something dark and evil. And someone, someone I know and thought I could trust, is helping them.

My shining lady Amayra, I pray to you now. Help guide me through this crisis. What am I to do?

An Encoded Missive, Sent Via Magic

Greetings to Our Lady.

Your plans proceed apace. The dockworkers, whipped into a suitable frenzy, will provide an excellent destabilizing force. The Sheriff has decided to seize the assets of the Merchant’s Guild for himself, a foolish move that will have the population out for his blood if he handles it wrong. Not planned, but definitely an advantage. The city should be in chaos soon, and ripe to fall on schedule.

I dislike having your agents interfering with my affairs. They are too brazen, and are drawing unwanted attention. I told you before, I can handle the search for the Shards. Two of them have fallen into my hands already. You should not have sent your daughter on this search—it will only lead to uncomfortable questions for her in the future, something we should strive to avoid until we are ready to handle them.

As always, I send you my best regards.

The Watcher.

From the Journal of the Jack of Ashes

Ah! The music of discord! Sweet strains of cacophony clamor in this vicious cabaret. The overture of the symphony of destruction has begun!

Faith in the institutions of government falters. The people say they want change, and they grow disillusioned with those who rule over them. Faith, in these times, is a precious commodity.

Where will they turn, then, when their trust is betrayed? To the comforts of the gods, false promises of salvation. Ah, and when those hopes are shown to be false as well? Where will they turn, when they find they can trust neither man nor god? Anarchy! Anarchy! And the gods, who feed on faith and belief, will be starved. The well of faith from which they drink will dry up, and what little draught is left will be as a poison to them, weakening them.

And what a perfect opportunity has presented itself. Thanks to Audric’s unwitting help, I am now privy to secret melodies that subtly harmonize disparate events, and can sway the whole city to my designs! I had no idea how widespread this White Fox Society was, and how many tiny things they influenced. They will be the perfect tools. The second movement begins!

Session Events

• The Party discovered that Gaston had summoned a whole bunch of devils to attack the assembled crowd.

• Topaz, Damien, and Kaz’meh distracted the great and terrible Skeleton Fiend. It attacked them, severely injuring Lady Topaz. Damien had to pull off an impressive stunt to get to her in time to save her life. Is history repeating itself?

• Meanwhile, the rest of the party confronted Gaston and his diabolic guards on the roof of the merchant guild. He was apparently holding Rali’s cousin Gabrielle hostage, and had a wing of invisible imps at his beck and call.

• Dalton used his spellscarred powers to leap into Gaston and causing him grevious internal harm, while Zifer and Rali tried to rescue Gabrielle from his grasp. Something was odd with her, though, and Zifer fell prey to magical domination, forcing him to strike at the others.

• As Briar valiantly attacked the Skeleton Fiend and Tamasin tried to keep people together, Xat and Bee dealt with the flock of imps, freezing, blinding, and blasting them with their magic.

• The tide turned. The hostage revealed herself to be a succubus in disguise, and took control of Rali’s mind, dominating her with a charming kiss into acting as a shield against attacks. Gaston, having taken a beating, fled for his escape tunnels. And the Skeleton Fiend tried its level best to rip Briar to shreds.

• But the party rallied forth, and the battle turned again. The succubus was overwhelmed and surrendered, while Shivano fell to Kaz’meh’s arrow strike. With the imps dispersed and no other distractions, the party fell on the Skeleton Fiend, who was unable to fend off their combined might. Rali, ironically, was the one to land the final blow.

Gaston’s Fate

Gaston DuChamps ran for his life. The battle still raged behind him, but he had no stomach for it. It probably had to do with having little stomach left at all—the warforged had surprised him with a painful magical attack inside his own body. He held on to the hope that Jessamine, Shivano, and The Skeleton Fiend would dispatch the adventurers, but he wasn’t going to wait to find out. Discretion, after all, was the better part of valor.

He reached the secret entrance to the tunnels, and manipulated the latch. His fingers, slick with blood, made the work difficult. With increasingly frantic motions, he fumbled with the secret latch, until at last it gave way. There. The tunnels lead to his personal jetty, where a small ship lay, provisioned for just such a hasty escape.

He started down into the darkness. He stumbled a bit, but no matter. He would be long gone before the adventurers could even find this route. He trudged on…and sprawled ungainly over some long root.

“What in blazes?” he grunted, pulling himself back to his feet. “I told those idiots to clear this tunnel.”

He grabbed at the root…and felt harsh scales beneath his finger. There was a glow, and a sudden warmth in the air. Gaston heard an angered hiss, and red eyes opened. No. Oh, no.

Gaston concentrated, calling a sickly flame into being in the palm of his hand, a trick learned only after long hours of practice. There, before him, was a pony-sized dragon. The flames gleamed off its scarlet scales.

Gaston had only time for a single scream before it struck, and the light vanished as razor-sharp teeth clamped down on his flame-filled hand. And then there was only pain, and darkness.

---

A slap of water across his face roused Gaston. He blinked awake, sputtering and trying to breathe through the torrent. There was light in the tunnel, and rough, iron-shod boots. And a chilling, guttural laugh.

“Sleep well, little piggy?” the voice chortled. “It seems you were nearly lunch for one of your own vicious beasts. How fitting. You know, we could have let it finish you off, let it fatten itself on your corpulent hide. But then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of stripping everything you care about from you, piece by piece.”

Gaston knew this voice. “Bulrick, you dog! I had nothing to do with this! I was enscorcelled! Tricked by thouse adventurers, who obviously have some sort of grudge against…”

A boot slammed into his jaw, drawing blood and ending his plea.

“Save your speeches, Gaston. You’ll have all the time in the world to practice them where you’re going. Pick him up and haul him to Warden Hall. I have some things to arrange.”

Rough hands wrenched Gaston to his feet. “I will see you dead for this, Bulrick.” He vowed.

“Get in line.” That was the only reply he received as the guards hauled him away.

The Town Crier, ESp 26 to ESp 29, 174 ACW

Pay heed! Pay heed!

Dockworkers strike turns to horrific bloodbath! Guildmaster Gaston DuChamps summons the Army of Darkness to attack protesting workers! Thirteen dead, dozens injured in mass panic!

Pay heed!

The Draconic Brotherhood saves the city from infernal invasion! Horrible skeleton fiend slain by heroic adventurers!

Pay heed!

Sheriff Bulrick disbands the Merchant’s Guild in light of recent attack! The St. Clarice watch seizes all guild assets! Warden Hall is now the city’s largest creditor!

Pay heed!

The Fiend Slayers of St. Clarice to be honored in grand feast on Mid Spring Day! Food! Celebrations! Performances! Women! Come by The Three Keys and celebrate!

Pay heed!

The villainous Gaston DuChamps has been tried and sentenced to The Bastille! Surviving guild members Garibaldi Rumpelstiltskin and Jerek Redscar and heroic informant Renard Montenegro bury Gaston under mountains of evidence in return for clemency!

h3. Party Wide

The Flames of Unity

Major, Current

• Overview: As the strife between the Dockworkers and the Merchant’s Guild comes to a head, an interested third party hires the Slayers to raid a smuggler’s storehouse and find proof of Merchant Guild involvement.

• Goals: Gather information (complete), find evidence of corruption (complete. Renard will testify against the guild, and there is still Zifer’s ledger), raid storehouse (complete), arrest or kill the heads of the Merchant’s Guild(complete, but see below).

• Side Goals: Infiltrate Gaston’s mansion (complete), Deal with Jerek’s band mercenaries (complete), warn Bulrick about DuVoe’s corruption (complete), find the remaining dragons and keep them from causing too much havoc (ongoing), rescue Rali’s cousin Gabrielle from Gaston before he kills her (ongoing), stop Gaston’s summoned devils from destroying the city (ongoing).

• Outcome: The Merchant’s Guild is likely finished at this point, so Gaston has become desperate and vengeful. He has unleashed some summoned devils on the city and taken Rali’s cousin Gabrielle hostage. Unless he is stopped, it is likely many people will die and Gaston will be able to escape town, to raise further havoc in the future.

• Current Status: The storehouse has been raided, but most of the dragons were either killed or let free. One lurks in the sewers, while an unknown number lurk beneath the Merchant’s Guild. Corrupt Guildmaster Gaston DuChamps, however, has decided to raise the stakes and change the game. He has murdered all his fellow leaders as a sacrifice to the Nine Hells and summoned a group of devils to attack the dockworkers directly.

In The Raven Lord’s Shadow

Major

• Overview: Something is wrong with the local Sacristy of the Raven Lord. The priests seem to have turned from the church’s teachings and embraced the dark practice of necromancy. What are they up to, in their cemetery temple far from prying eyes?

• Goal: Investigate the Sacristy of Daynal, expose the cult, discover what plans they have been hatching, confront the cultists and route them from the city.

• Side Goals: Destroy Damien of the Skeletal Grasp, Destroy or redeem Brother Maynard, confront Gerard LeVaine, find proof linking Gerard to the corruption of the church.

• Outcome: Brother Maynard spoke of a book, the Necronomicon, which holds terrible necromantic rituals. But the party has no idea what, exactly, he wants with the book, or what his plans are. And how does Gerard LeVaine fit in?

• Current Status: The party has encountered a greatly changed Brother Maynard, who has revealed himself to be among the undead. But the party who went to investigate the Sacristy were routed before they could do much damage, and they uncovered no more information on what the cultists are up to

The Faceless Underground

Minor

• Overview: Changelings are escaping from the Feywild into The World to escape genocide, but their hunters have apparently followed them. Caravans of changelings have been ambushed and slaughtered by The Wild Hunt, who pose as bandits. Someone is feeding them inside information. Has the mysterious White Fox Society been compromised?

• Goal: Discover who has betrayed the changelings to the Wild hunt, prevent further attacks.

• Side Goals: Establish a new route, discover how bad the corruption is, help Jil be reunited with her lost son, confront the Wild Hunt and send them packing back to The Feywild.

• Outcome: Success would mean saving the lives of dozens of changelings who don’t realize that they may be heading into a trap.

• Current Status: On hold. The Wild Hunt has started poking about St. Clarice.

The Affairs of Audacious Angels—A Tragic Comedy

Minor

• Overview: There is trouble within the ranks of the Amyran church. Lies, deceit, affairs—the tangle of love’s knot is becoming a noose. Why is Angelique acting so strangely? Who is Mai’ali, and what power does this dark lady have over Marcel’s heart? Is Audric really trying to seduce Angelique, or is their association more innocent than it seems? And what is Gerard LeVaine’s interest in all this?

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The Jack of Ashes

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• Overview: Gerard LeVaine, the Resurrectionist, is known throughout the city for his work with the poor, his almost miraculous healing techniques, and his dubious taste in fine clothing. But the party has uncovered indications that all is not right with the Good Doctor. Hints, omens, and visions continue to point to Gerard as The Jack of Ashes, who will cause a great and terrible calamity. Can the party uncover and end his nefarious schemes in time?

• Goal: Discover just what the heck Gerard LeVaine is up to, and stop him.

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• Current Status: The party knows he is a necromancer, and suspects he may be involved with the darkness at the church. They know he is tied to Victoria Montiare, and have recently discovered she is a vampire. They know little else, though. Gerard has also been showing interest in the affairs of the Amyran church, particularly after the last assassination attempt on Audric Cwellen’s life.

The Shards of Jillian

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Players! Please Comment on your current sidequests so they can be added to the list!

The Young Wyrm Vendraxis

Fools. They think I am scared of them? One day, I will return, and they will understand the true power of Vendraxis! And when I return, that old Wyrm will be too old and senile to stop me! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Old Leroux’s Journal, Early Spring 24, ACW 174

She is not my granddaughter. She moves like her, speaks like her, and I’m sure a part of her believes she is Dominique, but her movements, speech, and beleifs are ever so slightly off, as if she were an actor trying to play a part she once knew but has forgotten lines for.

This is a most interesting and distressing development. I see hints of another beneath the facade. Something true behind the mask. I am certain that this is Marcel’s “dark lady” that he believes no one knows about. I must reach that truth within her somehow. I must speak with the player behind the mask.

An Encoded Missive, Sent by Magic, ESp 24, 174 ACW

My Lady,

I believe we may have some serious problems.

First problem: The hunters you sent into the world have been far too brash and noticeable in their inquiries. They are drawing the wrong sorts of attention to our operation. They are openly seeking those with birthmarks of royalty, and drawing even more attention that is undesirable. Recall them, and let me handle this operation.

Second problem: There is a girl who holds two shards. I am at a loss to explain how. Part of her believes she is your granddaughter, but she is not. The other part is dangerous and unpredictable. I believe she may be of some use, but she is unreliable at best. I have managed to convince her that we can help each other. I will keep you apprised of the situation.

Third problem: There is a band of adventurers who are growing in power and notoriety. They are being considered for membership in the Society, but they are wild cards who may upset the balance in unfavorable ways. They need to be diverted; if they are attacked, they will retaliate, and may discover more than we would wish.

Other notes: The situation between the dockworkers and the merchants has reached a tipping point. The guild will likely fall. Renard has done his job well. Now the next act of destabilization is to topple Bulrick and Montaire. The chaos this will cause, added to the general feeling of anger and revolt we have formented, will create the perfect opening for the initial assault. The girl with two shards may prove useful, as may rumors of undead lurking about the city. I will await you command to proceed.

And I cannot let her friends interfere. This development may prove useful to Our Lady’s cause. And in any case I must preserve The Shard, at all costs, even if I must wind up eliminating her.

The Town Crier, Early Spring 25, 174 ACW

Pay heed! Pay heed!

A major bust for the City Watch! The vicious smuggling ring has been smashed at last! Dozens of foul villains slain in a daring raid on a secret storehouse!

Pay heed!

City on alert today as dockworkers stage a protest in front of the Merchant’s Guild offices! Hundreds gathered to protest unsafe working conditions and pittance wages! The docks are closed due to the ongoing strike! City business grinds to a halt!

Pay heed!

Lord Mayor Montaire declares the city to be in a state of emergency! Sheriff Bulrick to be taken off the leash! Martial law has been enacted until the crisis has been resolved! Militia members are ordered to mobilize for the city’s defense! Citizens and travelers are ordered to be indoors by sunset or face arrest!

Sheriff Bulrick’s Log, ESp 25, 175 ACW

Ordered to handle dockworker strike by Lord Mayor Montiare. The Lord Mayor seemed off, distant. Mind control? Memo: must investigate further.

Brought Squads A, B, and D to source of disturbance. Activated militia, as well. The Steel Guard chosen to act as vanguard in case of hostilities. That may have been a mistake; the presence of the warforged agitated the mob further. Took up positions around entry of Merchant Guildhall—the mob seemed intent on gaining forceable entry. Inconvenient. We want to arrest the merchants, not execute them. Yet.

Those damn adventurers showed up again. Naturally, situation turned worse immediately. They set about trying to “help” with crowd control. Must admit grudging admiration for their ability. The orc used some sort of magic to cow the crowd, first with booming diplomacy and, when that failed, booming thunder and lightning. Will waive charges of unlawful and dangerous magic use in the town limits, given mitigating circumstances and lack of injuries.

Saw the warforged member of their team move to block access of the Steel Guard, imploring them to “be more than the weapons you were created to be.” Interesting. He then rescued one of his companions from the mob, after she was uncovered trying to sneak through. Again, interesting.

The eladrin wizard barged through the blockade, proposed solution. The mob was here to see justice done to the merchants, so his suggestion was to complete our detainment of them. Admit a certain amount of appeal in this plan. Turned attention to calming the crowd enough to make suggestion a viable option. Once crowd pacified, the adventurers came to the sealed doors. Suggested that the warforged who braved the crowd be given the task of breaking down the door, as a symbolic gesture. The crowd was suitably impressed with this. Good. Warden Hall can only hold so many troublemakers.

Entered the chambers of the guild. Detected screaming from inner sanctum. Crashed through the door. Bodies inside, surrounding apparent large ritual circle. Most appeared to be ripped to shreds, but many also had sting marks. Probably poison. Then heard a magically-amplified shout from courtyard, something about doom and destruction, and then wild laughter, followed by screams of panic.

This is going to be a long day.

The Thoughts of Renard Montenegro Upon His Arrest

Well. That certainly could have gone better, but the objective has been reached. I can hear the bell tolling—it’s ringing for justice, and signaling the end of the Merchant’s Guild. I know where they keep their ledgers, after all.

I doubt I’m going to enjoy my stay at the St. Clarice jail, as Bulrick is notorious for his cruelty to prisoners. But The White Fox died to defeat the King of the Ants—surely my freedom is a small price to pay for the success of the Dockworker’s struggle.

I have to admit, it was quite a shock when the eladrin wizard snatched that alchemical doodad from Lao Tzu Fang. I suspected that the Hobgoblins may try to doublecross us somehow, but working up a release for the dragons? I cannot help but wonder if Lao was ordered to release the dragons on St. Clarice, a suicide mission to create havoc and panic in preparation for some sort of attack. I’ll have to share these suspicions with someone, and likely soon.

The fight quickly turned sour. I’ve never seen hobgoblins panic like that, so whatever magic they were using to keep the beasts docile must have failed. So many of the halflings tried valiantly to stop them—it pained me to watch them die. I knew some of them.

The adventurers, of course, took to the battle as if it were the most natural thing in the world for them. The shining warforged cornered one, while the archers pegged the others from afar. I tried to help as best I could, offering encouragement and inspiration when I had the opportunity, but some parts were hard to watch. When the dragonborn was cornered, I had to turn my head. I can still hear his screams as the dragons tugged at him like children tugging at a rope. I’m surprised he survived at all.

I saw more magic than I was used to. The eladrin lass had some sort of kinship with feywild fauna, summoning stinging bees from the ether to aid her. The eladrin lad, on the other hand, laid magical fields of ice, and both elvish and orcish clerics called holy fire down on the dragon cubs. I swear I heard the orc plead with one of the dragons to surrender—how noble! It is a shame it didn’t listen, as whatever magic he wove into his plea lashed it harshly. Even the warforged, whom I’d taken to be a straight warrior type, wielded some sort of magical flame and protective spells that changed his skin to a golden color.

Eventually, thankfully, the adventurers were victorious. two of the dragons were slain, and one escaped into the sewer tunnels, but they managed to bring down the last one alive with a dazzling spray of colorful radiance.

Well, it’s not what I’d hoped for, but I can live with the results. The other four dragons are safe and secure below the Merchant’s Guild escape tunnels, ready to great that fat bastard Gaston and his cronies. I hope the dragons eat well.

I wonder what the adventurers are planning to do with the dragon they captured.

Ael’s Scribblings

Me and Corrin are the only ones left. It was horrible the dragons got free and killed everyone except me and Corrin and now they’re taking us to jail and I’m scared. I want my mommy but the High Elves attacked us and I had to run while Mommy and Daddy fought them off and I had to hide my face I hate having to do that I hate this world I miss Faerie. This cell is stinky I hate it I hate the high elf who made the dragons go all mad stupid high elf why don’t they all die?

Corrin is angry at the human guy and I don’t blame him he lost all his friends and his brother too because of those stupid adventurers I hope the Smiling One smites them with leprosy. Corrin is talking to that girl she’s all gray but not like me when I show my real face she’s paler and stuff and I think he’s trying to talk her into helping us escape I think she’s some kind of witch or something Corrin says she’s a shadow kite or something like that.

Anyway that’s all for now I’ll try and sleep but I don’t think I’ll get any.

Damage report and repair assessment for the COPPER KNIGHT Restaurant, prepared by Copper Knight, Es/24/174

I would like to state first that I am in no way responsible for the damages the mercenaries incurred. They simply barged in, shouting at one of the patrons, calling him some kind of duck and then pulling swords on everyone. And it seems that the mercenaries had rivals who were already eating at the time, because a third of the patrons pulled out sword or spell against them. It was wildly terrifying. I’m not built to handle this sort of disturbance!

There was an eladrin tossing fireballs into the crowd! And then he was thrown from the balcony, and shattered it with ice and fire in retaliation! He is responsible for the collapse of the balcony level and the shattered windows.

There was another wizard, an orc, who tossed lighting and killed people with their own minds! It was horrible! His terrible voice just rang throughout the room! And then he was smashed across the bar and started drinking my stock as he unleashed his magic!

And then they set one my own on fire! And he didn’t even seem to feel the blaze! I thought his gold plates would melt from that kind of heat, but then he turned it into a weapon! And he was hopping up and down from the broken balcony like some kind of daredevil acrobat! He’s the one who put all the dents in your floor.

And then an eladrin female got into an arrow shooting match with one of the mercenaries! Arrows, flying all around! Her aim was atrocious! That’s where all the arrows came from, except the big ones—those were from the bugbear’s bow.

And you would think a cleric of The Raven Lord would at least be staid and respectable, but no, there was one just throwing chairs around, shooting beams of radiance and screaming out prayers and generally causing such a row!

And then there was the guy with the whip, just yanking people into the rafters!

The place was reduced to shambles! Shambles, I say! In less than half a minute! Five people died, right in front of me! Dozens were injured by flames and falling debris! I can’t work in these conditions! I quit!

Gaston’s Journal, Early Spring 24, 174 ACW

I seem to be surrounded by incompetence. It seems I have gravely underestimated the Slayers. They’ve somehow managed to crush two of my key resources in the same day…It’s only a matter of time before they come after me, as well. Well, let them come. They will regret the day they refused to die like good soldiers!

It seems I must now take drastic measures. The Skeleton Fiend? I shudder to think what it will do to the city once it has wrecked vengeance on the Slayers, but that is of no consequence now. DuVoe being captured I could have contained. But Jerek’s boys have seen too much and are too dumb to keep their mouths shut.

No, I believe it is time for Hell to visit St. Clarice, while I make for my villa in Bordeaux. It has been profitable here, but that time is ended. I am glad I’ve managed to procure such a lovely sacrifice for the Skeleton Fiend—it will likely be enraged at this summoning.

You have crossed me for the last time, Slayers. Now, you will know the wrath of the Nine Hells and my master Asmodeus. Die in pain.

Jerek’s Notes

Aw, fuck. We got ourselves pinched. Pierre ratted us out. Bulrick is happy and I think his happiness is not good for me. This is going to SUCK.

The Town Crier

Pay heed! Pay heed!

Merchant’s guild thugs attack freelance adventurers at the Copper Knight! Five dead in battle! The Copper Knight is closed for repairs!

Pay heed!

The City Council promises to declare marital law if Dockworkers strike! Curfews! Arrests! Guards hauling people in! Beware!

Pay heed!

Three Keys Tavern is the best place to go for a meal! Games of Chance! Women! Clean Rooms! Adventure! Come by today!

Pay heed!

Advance patrol of hobgoblins blamed for the fire set at Andreas Farm this morning! Sheriff Bulrick promises that no hobgoblin spies will escape St. Clarice alive!

Pay heed!

Two dead after brawl in the refugee camp! One combatant loses his mind and goes on rampage! Bursts into flames after being subdued! Locals place the blame on vampires!

Pay heed!

The Three Keys is a filthy whorehouse that waters down its drinks and rigs its games! This message brought to you by a better class of tavern! Come down to The Rusty Blade today!

Pay heed!

Tonight’s news is brought to you by The Crier’s Guild! Keep informed! Support the free exchange of knowledge! Tip your local Crier today!

Guardsman Roche’s report on the fire at the Andreas Farm. ESp/24/174

My patrol and I spotted the flames at approximately ten thirty am. The Andreas farmhouse was already well aflame at the point at which we arrived on scene. I sent a runner to the Sheriff and then we hastily formed a bucket brigade to douse the fire, but our efforts made little difference.

A male, dressed in the traditional garb of a Minister of the Raven Lord, appeared on the scene. I’m not sure how; we were engaged in firefighting and did not note his arrival. He did not interfere with our efforts, so none of the guards paid him much attention.

A female tiefling rode to the scene. She seemed very distraught, and she wanted to know the details, particularly if any of her family members were inside. I had no information to give her at this point, as we had arrived on the scene only a few minutes ago ourselves. She attempted to enter the building. I tried to restrain her, but she escaped my grasp. I confess I had forgotten that those of tiefling decent are resistant to flames. The man in the robes spoke, attempting to dissuade her. I will not forget his voice—it boomed like the Raven Lord’s itself. The tiefling ignored him, and proceeded inside.

I heard a scream from inside. It was a scream of rage and frustration, not of pain, so I held the men back. The tiefling then emerged from the building, carrying a corpse. She then began shouting at me. I can only assume from her tone that she had recently been harassed by other guardsmen recently, because she seemed quite intent on having me follow proper procedure. She showed me some spines that she had collected from the victim, which she believed had been the cause of death. They were approximately six inches long and gray-tinted. At first, I mistook them for Howler spines, but she then produced an identical spine which she alleges to have been stabbed with the previous evening by a flying, spined devil.

A pair of Eladrin had by this time arrived on the scene on horseback, and the male had joined the men in putting out the blaze. He cast a chilling spell of such potency that the fire immediately died. We should have more wizards among the guard—it would make this sort firefighting so much easier. By the familiar way they spoke with the bereaved, I would assume they were friends.

The tiefling proceeded to inter her relation in the small burial plot on the farm’s grounds, identifying the victim as her aunt. We searched the house but uncovered no further remains. The tiefling indicated that her cousin is still unaccounted for.

My investigation turned up several more spines, identical to the ones presented by the teifling, in various locations around the house. Each had charring that indicates they were set aflame before their placement, possibly due to some diabolic magic. If this is the work of a devil, then it poses a great hazard to public safety and should be hunted down and destroyed with haste. St. Clarice’s poorer districts are vulnerable to a wide-scale blaze, which could turn into a city-wide event if not properly contained, and a creature that can ignite fires and has no regard for mortal life could easily burn the city to the ground if left unchecked.

The Musings of Damien of the Skeletal Grasp

You think someone could get some peace in a graveyard, but as it turns out that is something of a myth. A routine ritual was interrupted by those meddlesome punks, The Slayers. As things were getting underway Tamisin, Briar, Dalton, and Rali along with some new guy that has something of the visage of The Raven Lord just started going crazy on the Daynalite Priesthood.

I do have to admit that it was kind of entertaining. I almost had Briar again. I am not entirely sure how he escaped. I hope however that they do not continue to interrupt my work and study, but, knowing them, they will be back here in larger numbers. I am seriously beginning to hate those people. It’s such a shame that those with less understanding always want to stifle the pursuit of happiness, and power.

God, that pathetic Briar tried to hurt me with energies that I have a much more “intimate” knowledge of than he does. Laughable. And that pesky Rali, she actually killed a little ghoulie, I don’t think she knows just how much work goes into securing good help these days. Well, no matter how the coin falls, they will pay for this transgression.

Mai’ali’s Journal, Early Spring 24, 174 ACW

It’s not going according to plan that meddlesome Xat was here asking all kinds of awkward questions that Dominique didn’t know how to answer and they were looking at my knife too I need that to keep Tayce under control don’t they see he will kill us all if he gets free? They took me to see this old eladrin coot who was related to Dominique or something and kept prying and prying and he’s gong to ruin everything!

No. This will not do not at all I need to get out of here I’m not staying because the old eladrin gives me the creeps I think he knows more about things than he lets on and I’ve seen him talking with Marcel a few times perhaps I need to make him go away too I wonder what it is he really fears.

He knows! DAMN IT, HE KNOWS!

Jerek Redscar’s Notes

So Pig Boy rounds us all up and sez, boyz you have a job and I’m like, sweet! finally some action in this dump of a town. I’m sick of watching his crates of crap and want to get beatin on some poor bastards who ain’t going to see what’s all coming their way.

He wants us to go beat the stuffing out of some guy who runs a bar. Used to be a pirate, Pig Boy sez, so expect a fight. Pah! The guy went down quick enough beneath our fists. We ain’t to kill him, though. Just rough him up, send a message to those goody-two-shoes what stay at his place. I asked why we don’t just burn the place down when they’re all inside it, but Pig Boy said “all in due time” which I think means he wants to torment them more first.

Oh hai. it’s later and Pig Boy gots another job for us. Seems we got a squealer to take care of. He’s at this fancy joint called the Copper Knight and Pig Boy wants us to make sure he don’t leave it. Sounds good to me. Oh, and we can paste Bodak’s golden team if they get in our way. And get paid for it! This is going to be sweet.

Notes of Thomas DuVoe, Early Spring 23, ACW 174

This is becoming a nightmare. I was well aware that Gaston was petty and cruel—but I never expected things to get this bad. I can’t see any way out.

I will freely admit that I am no angel. This log is proof of that—of course, it’s proof of a great many other things, as well, which was the original point of keeping it. If I go down, then Gaston goes with me, thanks to this, but now…

I must collect myself.

We had been at Gaston’s earlier, to collect Jerek’s thugs and get them away from the scene. We paid them, and turned them loose, and I filed the report, blaming their escape on the adventurers, which should keep Bulrick from being too pleased with them.

I did not expect to be called back to the grounds so soon. There was Gaston, looking smug about something, with a troop of his personal guards and about half of the Coralton Slayers, standing before a locked door. There was a slight curl of greasy smoke leaking from the frame. Gaston smugly informed me that there had been a burglary attempt by the other half of the adventuring team, and that they were trapped below. We were to take them into custody.

He opened the doors, and heavy, oily kerosene smoke billowed out. Damn that fat frog—he seemed to almost be grinning. He, I, and one of the slayers headed down the steps, and were greeted with a flying devil corpse, followed by a huge bugbear saying something about cleaning up a pest problem.

At this point, I wasn’t sure what to think, but as I saw the carnage in the room, I began to piece things together. There were chairs and tables knocked over all over the place. A long bookshelf was cheerfully, ablaze, as well as one cask of kerosene. Three unconscious devils and a forth who still seemed alert but was tied with rope littered the room. One of the Slayers, a rather pretty tiefling, was bleeding on the floor, so I allowed her companions to come tend her. And there were burned ashes of parchments and ledgers, and a crude summoning circle. And Gaston turning purple beside me. I have never seen him that angry before.

I came to the vocal conclusion that obviously the gang of ruffians who had burned the fetch earlier in the evening had used the diversion to summon devils in the cellar, probably in an attempt to have them kill Gaston the next time he entered and frame him for devil worship. I ruled that the Slayers were simply doing the job they had been hired for, and Gaston did not like that at all.

He went to get the payment he promised the Slayers, and we moved to take the devils into custody. I ‘m sure the bugbear and the dragonborn would have wanted to question the one that was still conscious further, but there was no way I could reasonably allow that.

Gaston paid his due, and then the warforged actually demanded Gaston’s cloak as well. That’s one of his favorites, and that is just asking for trouble. But Gaston handed it over without a word…It was terrifying to watch. I know his normal reaction to that sort of demand.

There’s really only one explanation. Gaston set that room up as a trap, and somehow tricked the Slayers into exploring it. He expected to find them all dead when he opened the door. They escaped this fate, probably with no small amount of daring-do heroics. I wonder what the lure was. Are they investigating him? Are they trying to bring him down? I hate to say this, but I wish them success, even as I have to try and stop them.

I never before last night realized how far Gaston would go to make his displeasure at the Draconic Brotherhood felt. It was a cold, calculated attempt at murder. And the Slayers escaped, and humiliated him in front of us all. He will not take that sitting down. They’ve provoked him, and he will try to make them pay. And I can’t stop him, because he can bury me with a snap of his fingers.

What am I going to do? It’s a certainty that they will go to Bulrick directly, and he’s already had me under investigation. Gaston will make sure I never live to see trial if I am arrested, especially now that I know he has a way to summon devils. I wonder how he did it. Does he know summoning magic? Did he hire someone? Did they come to him? I should have kept them around to ask, but we tied rocks to them and dumped them all in the river and waited to make sure they were drowned. The conscious one told me, before we dropped him in, that he would feast on my flesh, even though it wasn’t as tender as that of the girls. What girls? WHAT GIRLS!?

Oh gods. Gaston wouldn’t…he…Lucy…Penny…I knew them…

What am I going to do?

Bodak’s Memoirs, Early Spring 24, 174 ACW

As an adventurer, you learn to trust your instincts. Sometimes, your instincts tell you to run for the hills.

I’m reminded of one of my first adventures, with my first party. We were trying to infiltrate this gathering of the Order of the Fair, a cabal of blood mages who’d been involved in some pretty heinous stuff. We came to the party, our cover stories all set—I was to be the big dumb bodyguard, Lady Hasalar was the maidservant, and Ishtar and the bard were the mages. But then the bard flubbed our cover story. Aslar, our host, didn’t make a comment at the time, but I had this gut feeling that we were in deep, deep crap. And I was right, too. After spending a night being scryed on, the bard (what was his name? It’s been so long…Ah, well) was invited to do a “friendly” mage duel with a wizard far, far more powerful than he. It wasn’t pretty. After he fell, we scattered. I spider climbed down the outer wall, and Ishtar leaped out a window. Lady Hasalar…didn’t make it.

We regrouped, and rallied the watch, but the wizards had already fled. We found the bard transformed into a stone statue in the garden, and Lady Hasalar…she was in their dungeons. She’d been changed. She attacked me, trying to drink my blood, and then fled into the night. Ishtar and I recruited new members, but we never got that close to The Order after that, so we went our separate ways.

I sometimes have nightmares about that party.

When Gaston’s blood-sucking barristers came today, I felt that old instinct come creeping back—we’d been screwed, and it was time to run. But damn it, Gaston Duchamps is not some ancient vampire blood mage with designs on world domination. He’s just a fat merchant with delusions of grander. I’m not going to run and hide just because he thinks I owe him something. And my friends are not going to bow down before him, either. We are adventurers. Messing up intricate plans with applications of chaos is what we do. You want a fight, pig boy? You got one.

Bulrick’s Log, Early Spring 24, 174 ACW

Met with those damn adventurers again. Was informed that someone may have been altering reports. Investigated. Information proved accurate. Was also informed of alleged plot against my life, possibly involving poison. Suggested a means of investigation; the adventurers balked. Heh heh. Will investigate allegations further. Note: Must reprimand DuVoe, possibly others for sloppy procedure. They may be actively covering things up, in which case harsher methods necessary. Three days on the pillory considered, perhaps flogging and banishment if the evidence hold up. Torture may prove necessary for information gathering purposes—will inform DeVeres to be prepared.

Was interrupted by emergency report. Andreas farm at edge of forest set ablaze, possibly arson. Dispatched watch to contain fire. men growing thin—can’t spare more than a handful for proper investigation. Perhaps those damn adventurers will be willing to follow up instead; female tiefling visibly upset at news, commandeered a horse. Others followed suit. Will waive horse theft charges if beasts are returned, given the extenuating circumstances. End log.

Gaston’s Journal, Early Spring 23, 174 ACW

It has been a gloriously interesting evening. I suppose I should invite adventurers to these sorts of affair more often, as their presence ensures that all sorts of entertaining mishaps occur during what normally tend to be somewhat dull, staid affairs, but that sort of spice should be used sparingly.

Where to begin? The effigy attack? No. I think the night truly began to change with the attack on the night, Audric. I, too, was startled by the swiftness of the strike, a sensation I dislike. Assassins in my own home! However, I suspect the girl’s story is a fabrication—she had no hint of that meek timidity when I invited her. A wolf dressed as a lamb, that one…I approve in Marcel’s taste in mistresses.

Oh, it was delicious to see the DuParis’ split themselves to comfort their paramours, rather than hold on to any pretense of marital bliss! This will be a fine rumor to spread to the local gossips, which should please Doctor LeVaine no end. I hope he holds his end of the bargain—arranging this was not easy, because Mai’ali was difficult to find.

Of course, as pleased as I was to see my efforts bearing fruit, there was still the matter of a holy knight dying on my carpet. Propriety demands I be seen to do something, so I ended the festivities and took the chance to speak with the Lord Mayor alone. I also decided that it would be prudent to have the Coralton Slayers remain, to provide their services in watching the grounds. I figured that would give them an opportunity to poke about a bit under the pretext of protecting me. Some of them are friends of the paladin, though, and chose to accompany him to the temple to offer their aid. The girl I chose for the evening also decided to depart for the night. Ah, well. There will be another time for that pleasure.

I fancy that their task would be somewhat difficult. Angelique, of course, would not leave Audric’s side after this. I can picture her, sitting forlornly by his side as rituals are cast to drive the dark spell that grasps him away. I believe the Slayers will be keen on questioning Mai’ali over the events, though I doubt she would provide them with anything save confusion. They may call for a companion schooled in the Ars Magica to assist them. I wish them good luck, and a speedy recovery. After all, I don’t want the Slayers to miss what I have in store for them.

It wasn’t very hard to entice the ones who stayed behind to work for me. An offer of a magical cloak, some magic robes, and a bit of gold was all it took. Adventurers are so predictable. I even told them where, specifically, to avoid. Then I and the Lord Mayor retreated to the parlor to discuss certain events. He was, of course, livid at the audacity of the dockworkers. Burning people in effigy is a sign of more trouble down the road. Then we amused ourselves with some Three Dragon Ante, until an alarm rang.

We hurried to the scene. As I suspected, there had been some commotion near the wine cellar. An arrow had mysteriously appeared, and the perpetrator had not been caught. Perhaps there are even more of these adventurers than I had suspected—they change their official roster often enough. That won’t matter for long, though. My swift presence in the company of an armed squad should be sufficient to convince them that the Wine Cellar holds something vastly interesting for them.

I retired back to the parlor, where I found that the metal golem had been uncouth enough to enter my private room without permission and was chatting with the mayor as if it believed it was his friend. Those Forged golems are such clever constructs, believing themselves to be living beings worthy of consideration. I decided to indulge it. Once the Slayers do what I believe they are going to do, the golem won’t have the protection of the guild and I can see it melted down for scrap.

I wonder how they will enter the cellar. Will they draw off the guards, feigning friendship to lure them away? Will they instead gallivant around with some show of flashy heroics, jump tackling the guards or pinning them to the wall with arrows or some other damn fool thing? Will they murder the guards, or simply knock them into unconsciousness and avoid adding murder to the charges against them? It matters not. Any minute now, the trap will be sprung, the alarm will sound, and I will show Bodak, once and for all, that I am not a man to be trifled with.

The dockworkers will cease to be an inconvenience to me. Bodak will be forced to deal harshly with them, or disband the guild to pay his debts. The Slayers will find themselves jailed, hopefully flogged in the process. And no one will dare raise a finger against Gaston Duchamps again.

It has been a good night.

• The party went to prepare, getting tailored clothes and setting up plans.

• Some members sought out Dominique, but she was nowhere to be found.

• Other went to speak with Jil, to ensure her safety.

• Xat, under the name Lily, accompanied Gaston around the town.

• The time of the party came. Kaz’meh and Briar were directed politely to the grounds under the pretense of patrolling, while the others got to meet and greet the nobles. Victoria was cold with Rali, while Gerard and Tamasin danced. Dalton and the Mayor hit it off splendidly, despite Gaston’s apparent contempt of him. “Bee Honey” looked for a chance to slip away.

• Other guests: The mayor and his daughter, the talkative halfling Garibaldi Rumpelstiltskin, Marcel and Angelique DuParis, Audric Cwellen, and a late arrive—a girl introduces as “The Mistress Mai’ali”, who turned out to stongly resemble Dominique.

• Out on the grounds, Kaz and Briar spoke with some rude guards who stood before a secure door, and then noticed some sort of activity near the edge of the grounds near the river. They found a rabble, apparently made up of well-armed dockworkers, setting up a fetch of Gaston, preparing to cause trouble. They went and informed the partygoers that there was a problem, and Gaston told them “Aren’t you adventurers? Go adventure!”

• The group headed out to the grounds, though Bee and Xat slipped off to search the house under cover of the distraction. They found a hedge wizard finishing up the fetch ritual and lighting the effigy ablaze. The Fetch, a huge construct of sticks, straw, and a rotting pig’s head, took the appearance of Gaston, their host, and flailed about wildly. The rabble attacked, and the battle was joined.

• A burst of thunder from the wizard sent Zifer reeling for most of the fight, and the berserkers caused havoc with their giant axes. But when the effigy began moving and attacking on its won, that’s when things got crazy. Dalton, ignoring the outbursts of his bloodthirsty sword, charged the wizard and one of his guards, who were trying to escape by boat. The effigy, meanwhile, stumbled about, lobbing fire and trying to tear things apart. However, a blast of icy cold tentacles from Rali’s wand greatly weakened it, and a blast from Tamasin blew the effigy apart.

• Three of the mauraders were captured, and one drowned when Dalton knocked him into the fast-flowing river. The wizard, however, managed to escape into the river. Now the group heads back to the party, to see what they can learn from their captives.