A New Day, A New Quest
Faryn tells them they should rest for a bit and discuss. She says she will return shortly to ask their answer.
QHOR: We need no time to discuss.
FARYN: I insist. You are free to access the garden, but do not go far. These nuts and berries have healing properties and will rejuvenate you from the sluggishness you might experience from the root smoke we had to stick you with.
She leaves the group and closes the stone door behind her halfway.
Rolan turns to the group.
ROLAN: Did that greenwalker or whatever ask you guys about white men?
ARAN: I was asked about that. I wasn’t sure what white men they were talking about.
QHOR: I assumed you pale fuckers but I guess not.
QARZ: They did ask me about White men but I have no idea what they were talking about. Do you think it may have been Tyrone?
ROLAN: I thought they were talking about you guys too. I’m curious who it was referring to. Anyway, I think I saw a berry bush back in the woods a bit. I’m gonna go grab some. If I’m not back in an hour, come find me.
QARZ: Don’t beat the berry bush too long… R’hllor will take your sight!
Faryn returns about 30 minutes later.
FARYN: So will you be taking on this task?
QHOR: Our services aren’t usually cheap, but you don’t seem like the coin type…
FARYN: What we provide is information. Upon your return with the Root, we will answer all we can.
QARZ: If I can learn more about this Amulet, I’m certainly willing.
Faryn nods.
FARYN: As you can probably tell, we have no interest in either of the glowing artifacts you possess, except to convey that it is critical that they do not fall into the wrong hands. I will tell you something you probably already know… Do not allow any single person to even touch two, let alone three, of these artifacts at the same time…
QARZ: I’ve seen what Tyrone could do with both. I promise that I will only hold onto this amulet. My compatriot will carry the other.
Faryn looks at ease from the fire sorcerer’s lack of ambition for power and control. Strangely, her reaction seems as if this was an expectation, rather than a revelation. Aran, Qarzdaq, and Qhortho tell Faryn that they will take on this task.
FARYN: Where is your compatriot anyway?
They know that if they leave right now, they could still reach Lando early morning. Maybe he will leave a couple of hours late.
First, they leave the room in search of Rolan. They find him out back with a half-eaten mushroom in his hand and a perfectly good source of berries in the bush just five feet away. Silly Rolan. Oh well, they’ll have to pick up a pristine Shadowcap from someone now…
Qhortho lifts Rolan over his shoulder and they head west. They can move quickly now that they know they are not in danger. As they are leaving the startling nature of the weirwoods catch them a bit by surprise. All those detailed faces carved into the stark trunks, framed by the bright red leaves. Beautiful? Yes. Creepy as all fuck? Also, yes.
A few steps farther and a body is visible, tightly bound by thick vines lying at the edge of a clearing. It’s Tyrone’s body. The weirwoods surrounding the clearing are charred from the battle the night before. Qhortho drops his pants and Rolan, then proceeds urinates on the Tyrone’s body.
QHOR: That’s what you get for enslaving some motherfuckers. Sic semper tyrannis…
… or something like that… In fact, it is neither I nor the Dothraki himself who could actually say what he said. He would claim it is Dothraki for “Tyrone can suck a bag of dicks” or something like that, but he doesn’t really know – but no one else knows that he doesn’t know, and his secret is safe with me. It’s not like they can go all meta or anything 😊
Although it took them a full day’s travel to get to this location, they arrive not far from the shore as dark sets in. They find a very suitable place to camp, but they bypass it, in the hopes they can make it back to Lando before he takes off with their stuff.
They take shifts overnight, continuing to row through dawn. Qarzdaq aids them by lighting up the bow of their boat with a red hue, as to not throw off their night vision.
Qhortho hatches a plan to scare Lando when they make landfall. Luckily for them, Lando is packing up the cart and securing the horses, not noticing the boat as it slips into the soft shoreline. Qhortho, in a surprising show of stealthiness, jumps out of the boat and sneaks up on Lando. He lets out a blood-curdling Dothraki blood rider war cry.
Lando almost jumps out of his skin, shitting his bitches in the process.
LANDO: HOLY FUCK!
Qhortho lets out a hearty belly laugh.
Lando hunches over, attempting to catch his breath.
LANDO: That’s gonna cost you another platinum!
QHOR: Is that the cost of dry-cleaning? I got a better idea!
Qhortho picks up the kid and tosses him into the water. Lando flails around in the cool water for a few moments before he gets out, huffing and puffing.
LANDO: What the hell?! I kept my part of the deal! I stayed out here in this creepy area alone for you guys!
They smooth it over as if it was all in good fun. Lando accepts this because, well, he doesn’t really have a choice.
They ask him the best way to travel towards Blackwater Bay. He suggests the boat down the river, but the party overrides that idea in favor of keeping their horses and stuff, which would be far too much for the rowboat to handle. Lando tells them of Blackwater Crossing, which is where the Blackwater Rush opens to Blackwater Bay. The party should be able to find another boat down there.
Before they part ways with young Lando, Qarzdaq uses the higher mysteries to clean Lando’s lower extremities. Really just his shorts. They send Lando off with the mule and boat, but they keep the cart and ale. Of course, they make Lando pay for the mule and boat for what they expected to get upon selling them.
Hagwash
They tie Rolan to his horse and ride following the lake’s shore two days south. When they stop to rest, they hear voices not far away. Dismounting, and leaving Rolan behind, they venture quietly through the trees ahead, overhearing some details of their conversation.
SOFT: If we’re going to stake a claim in this forest, I’m the only one with the charm and looks to convince them to let us in!
ASTUTE: Charisma won’t prevail over these creatures! I am the only one with the intelligence to outsmart them!
SULTRY: You are both fools! It is not your good looks or intelligence that will defeat them! It is my ability to control the gifts of the gods that will do them in!
They continue bickering, clearly unaware of anything around them. The party creeps through the woods to behold three women around a cauldron. Two of them look like the stereotypical witch, green skin and all. The other one has deep chestnut hair and fair skin.
Their conversation moves to argument, centered around who is the rightful leader of their coven. Their hovel is no more than about twenty feet from them. Who the hell knows what they have in there…
The Assembly determines this might be the discussion of an impending assault on the Children and decide they must prevent this. They spread out in the woods, waiting for the signal…
Suddenly, an incubus appears on the opposite side of the clearing, courtesy of a card from Qarzdaq’s Deck of Illusions.
The three women hear a snarl nearby and turn to the source.
ASTUTE: What’s that?
They fan out slightly and face it, unafraid. They move to attack but are interrupted by The Unlikely Assembly!
Qhortho dashes at the one with a sultry voice and slashes at her back. He delivers a strike so deep, blood pours from her shoulder blade. Qarzdaq then scorches her with a series of Scorching Rays.
Aran runs up to the one claiming intelligence and slashes her a few times with his glaive.
The highly dexterous one spins to face Qhortho, about to strike the Dothraki with some sort of spell. Before she is able, he slashes at her one final time. She pulls back from his strike, but not by enough. The Valyrian Steel grazes her neck. Blood immediately squirts from her neck and she falls to her knees before falling forward.
He starts towards the soft-spoken fair one, slicing her left forearm. She screams out and looks to her ally.
ASTUTE: Go for the spellcaster first! In the woods!
Right on cue, Qarzdaq uses Telekinesis to lift the astute one into the air 10 feet.
The restrained hag in mid-air attempts to cast something at Aran, but he escapes its effects and retaliates with several strikes.
The beautiful woman’s eyes fade to a deep black. Qhortho is not swayed. He strikes her again.
QHOR: Die woman!
She lets out an eerie cackle.
Qarzdaq drops one floating hag, causing her to fall ten feet to the ground. He then lifts the other one into the air.
QARZ: Hit the piñata!
QHOR: What’s a piñata?
QARZ: Doesn’t matter, hit her again!
She quickly raises her hand out to Qarzdaq. Shock sweeps over her face when nothing happens.
She mutters under her breath, “who are you?…”
QHOR: We’re the Haters of Hags, bitch.
Qhortho slashes through her cleanly. The blood falls to the ground as her body remains levitated.
The remaining hag sees this and circles around Aran, setting up a line to Arana and Qarzdaq. She blasts a line of lightning through the two of them, catching a few trees aflame.
Aran, pissed because of his now-singed hair. With both his hair and ego burned, he puts some extra oomph behind his next strike, felling the last of the hags.
With the charismatic hag still held in the air, Qarzdaq tosses her out of his way as he emerges from the woods. He continues towards the cauldron with purpose and kicks it over. A grayish viscous sludge oozes out onto the ground. The air surrounding the cauldron has the faint smell of aloe. He looks into the bottom of the cauldron for bones or other items and finds nothing but the gray residue barely clinging to the surface.
Qarzdaq captures some of the sludge in an empty potion vial.
QARZ: Not sure if you guys want any of this stuff, but it’s probably worth identifying once we find an apothecary. I’m going to check out the bodies. You want to check the house?
After filling up an empty waterskin with the gray sludge, Aran and Qhortho agree to search the hovel.
What a Horrible Night for a Curse
Aran and Qhortho enter the hovel to a disconcerting sight. Skulls of rats, birds, snakes, squirrels and other small animals litter the floor. A necklace made of an assortment of the small skulls hangs on a peg driven into the wall.
Looking more closely around the single-room house, they find a jar of black murky liquid with a small brain floating inside, some rotting books with papers torn out and loose pages inserted, a small box full of babies’ ears, a moldy jewelry box full of cheap rings and tangled necklaces, a pile of children’s shoes, a small stone box marked ‘eye’, a dead rat dressed in doll clothes sits upon a miniature stool with its ears and eyes gouged out, and a small vial of gray oil.
Upon closer inspection, the oil seems to penetrate the glass of the bottle as small gray beads. They quickly evaporate, but the level of liquid inside the vial remains the same.
Qhortho is infatuated with the necklace on the wall. He lifts it off the peg and puts it on his neck. Immediately he levitates a few inches off the ground. The sensation is unsettling but somewhat intoxicating.
QHOR: Whoa! Look at this!
Aran looks over at him.
ARAN: Holy crap man! Do you think you can go over water with that?
Qhortho speeds out of the hovel, noticing that he can move twice his usual speed. Aran exits the hovel immediately to watch Qhortho either do the amazing, by floating above the water, or the humorous, by falling into the water.
Qarzdaq sees Qhortho hovering along the ground, speeding towards the lake’s edge. He passes through the Incubus still standing there looking all menacing-like, disturbing the card and causing it to vanish. Qarzdaq finds nothing on the bodies and quickly ignites them for R’hllor.
Aran gets both wishes: Qhortho does float above the water, but it freaks him out so he removes the necklace and falls into the cool, waist-deep water.
Qarzdaq and Aran meet at the center of the clearing near the cauldron just as Qhortho is walking back.
ARAN: Let me try that thing.
Qhortho hands over the necklace and Aran places it around his neck. He scoots around the area, just playing with their new toy. Without removing the necklace, the group enters the hovel to take inventory and collect the items they wish to keep.
The stone box marked ‘eye’ catches Qarzdaq’s and he opens it. It immediately explodes into tiny vicious gnats the moment it’s touched. They follow Qarzdaq around the hovel. He swats at them repeatedly to no avail. He continues to search around the hovel until the gnats bite him. It’s more of an annoyance than anything else, but it’s more than he’s willing to take. He casts a firebolt at the small cloud and they quickly fizzle out. However, the bolt catches the hovel on fire, so they must move quickly now to collect the items worth saving.
They decide to keep the jar of black murky liquid with the brain, the rat dressed in doll clothes, and the small vial of gray oil. Aran holds it all.
Exiting the burning structure, the daylight quickly diminishing, Aran realizes he can see into the darkness like never before. It’s not quite like seeing in the dark… there’s something else going on here. He notices some shifting in the trees beyond the clearing.
ARAN: Hey guys, what’s that?
The others look into the woods, but don’t see anything.
Aran takes a few steps forward and is rushed by a specter out of nowhere. Aran yells in surprise. The other two men jump back, still not seeing anything.
QHOR: Aran, what the hell man?
Aran draws his glaive and begins battling the thin air, still floating above the ground. Qhortho draws his blade, not sure what to expect. Qarzdaq makes some distance and takes a defensive stance.
QARZ: Is it something with the rat doll??
Aran takes off the necklace, mostly to get his comfortable footing, but when he does, the specter disappears as does his ability to see through the darkness.
ARAN: Holy shit!
Qarzdaq and Qhortho ask about what he saw. Just as he opens his mouth to answer, Aran is struck by a zap of lightning. Not a bolt from the sky or anything they can see, but the repercussions of the strike are apparent when an area of his flesh sizzles and turns bright red.
QARZ: Qhortho, put the necklace on.
Qhortho puts the necklace on.
Qhortho begins floating and starts moving around the area. He doesn’t see anything abnormal.
Aran gets zapped again.
ARAN: What the fuck?! Qhortho, give me that thing!
Qhortho zips over to Aran and places the necklace on his neck. Aran begins to float and is immediately startled when the bright pink and purple light of the specter fills his view. With his glaive still out, he swipes through the spirit. With every strike, he feels as if his target is not taking the full impact of his weapon.
ARAN: I feel like I need a weapon blessed by the gods in some way.
Aran takes off the necklace and tosses it to Qhortho.
ARAN: Try striking it with the Valyrian Steel! It’s right in front of me!
Qarzdaq thinks that Aran might be seeing into the ethereal plane and casts Blink on himself. He closes his eyes, but the gods do not wish to transport him at this time. He will try again after a few breaths. It’s hard to perform under these circumstances.
Qhortho sets up an attack that should slice cleanly through the thing Aran says is attacking him, but his strikes pass through thin air.
Qhortho tosses the necklace back to Aran. He gets it around his neck and strikes with his glaive again. This time, the specter dissipates with a creepy breath that fades into nothing.
Aran relaxes his stance while the others remain on edge.
ARAN: Ok, it’s gone. I think I killed it, but I’m not sure what the fuck just happened here.
QHOR: Let me see that again.
Aran removes the necklace and hands it to Qhortho, who wears it immediately. Qarzdaq successfully blinks out of the material plane and out of view from Aran and Qhortho.
QHOR: Whoa, where’d Qarzdaq go? Man, this shit is too weird.
Aran asks for the necklace back to find out if he can see Qarzdaq. He places it on his neck and can see Qarzdaq, clear as day.
ARAN: Hey Qarzdaq, I can see you!
QARZ: Oh wow! Hey what’s up? Yeah, you look more clearly defined now.
Qhortho only hears Aran’s side of the conversation.
Qarzdaq looks around, now expecting some sort of spirit to pop out, but he sees nothing except the shadowy realm he’d seen before.
Aran mentions that he thinks there is a time component to how the necklace works and ponders whether it may even attract hostile creatures on the Ethereal Plane.
Qhortho, wanting to experiment with the necklace some more, gets it from Aran and places it on again. He begins scooting around the clearing, following the tree line. After about a minute, he notices that he’s able to see into the darkness farther than he has ever seen before. The darkness isn’t illuminated; instead it’s almost as if he can see shadows on shadows, whatever that means.
QHOR: Guys, I’m seeing what Aran saw!
Qhortho gets back to the group. Aran suggests that he should try it on his horse when we have daylight. Qhortho is uneasy about the idea, but he reluctantly agrees it’s worth knowing more about the necklace’s power. For now, they decide this clearing is a pretty good spot to camp.
Qarzdaq takes the first watch. Just as Aran and Qhortho are drifting off to sleep, they awaken in agony. Their sudden yells startle Qarzdaq. They all quickly look around, seeing nothing that would have caused the sears on their skin.
Qarzdaq is, as of yet, unaffected.
QARZ: Qhortho, you should drink that gray sludge.
Qhortho drinks that gray sludge. He feels a little more rested and replenished.
Without further hesitation, Qarzdaq casts Blink.
Qhortho dons the necklace quickly. A specter is inches from his face about to strike, immediately setting Qhortho into a rage. With two slashes, the specter dissipates into wisps of smoke.
QHOR: Shit! You see that Aran?
ARAN: No, I can’t see them at all!
Qhortho looks over at Aran and sees another Specter ready to attack Aran.
Qarzdaq moves over to where Aran was attacked. Knowing he may blink into the Ethereal Plane at any moment, he concentrates on sending a Scorching Ray into the creature, whatever it may be.
Aran, unable to attack his attacker, positions himself in a way to provide Qarzdaq and Qhortho easy access to where he thinks the creature is.
Qhortho roars with anger, bringing his blade down vertically, mere inches from Aran’s face. Aran, closes his eyes briefly without moving, in the clearest sign of trust yet.
The Valyrian Steel swiftly passes through the ethereal being, causing it to dissolve with the single strike. Qhortho’s breathing slows, his blade near the ground.
Aran and Qarzdaq look at each other then back to Qhortho.
ARAN: I take it he’s dead?
QHOR: Yeah… It’s dead.
Horses Might Like Levitation… Right?
Qhortho looks around. Instinctively, so do Aran and Qarzdaq.
QARZ: See something?
QHOR: No. It looks like that was it. Maybe we shouldn’t camp here.
They discuss if it’s the location or the necklace that is drawing in these creatures. They discuss burning the necklace, but Qarzdaq objects, saying “it’s too good to burn.” Aran suggests they keep traveling and see if they get attacked again. They settle on riding an hour along the shore to make camp, so they will know whether it is the hag hangout attracting this bad juju.
ARAN: But before we go, Qhortho, you should put this on your horse.,
QHOR: I ain’t putting that on my horse.
ARAN: Ok fine. I’ll put it on my horse.
He places it over the horse’s head and after just a moment, the horse lifts off the ground by a few inches. It takes a few seconds for the horse to realize something is… off. But once he does, he begins freaking out. Aran tries to soothe him, but to no avail, so he removes the necklace. The horse’s eyes remain wide even after he is back on the ground. It skittishly romps around the group for a few minutes while Aran calms him down.
ARAN: Hey Qhortho, it does work though. You should keep that in mind.
QHOR: My horse would cuss me out if I did that.
ARAN: You just can’t handle the majesty of riding like that into town.
QHOR: We’ll see. We’ll see.
Qhortho stows the necklace in his backpack and they ride along the shore for about an hour. They make camp and place the necklace on a nearby tree branch, so all of them have access to the necklace if they need it. Soon they drift off to sleep with Qhortho on watch.
About an hour later, Aran is startled out of his sleep.
ARAN: Guys! Something just zapped me again!
Aran backs away from the source, unable to see it. He dashes for the necklace, throwing it on his neck as quickly as possible. His feet lift off the ground; a glowing ball of light floats before him.
Aran runs at it with his glaive drawn, but in all the action, loses his balance and slashing into the ground. Qhortho runs towards Aran.
QHOR: Toss me the necklace!
As he gets closer… ZAP! As if lightning struck his heart.
Qhortho puts on the necklace and sees the thing that hit him. A glowing ball of light. As his feet lift off the ground, he quickly glances around. Good, nothing else around.
QHOR: We killed one of these things once.
Qhortho goes into a rage and charges forward.
QHOR: FOR ORNOGRIM!
The floating sensation throws off his balance. He skids right past the wispy ball as he strikes, but manages to hold on to his weapon. He spins to face it, not going to miss again.
Qarzdaq blinks into the Ethereal Plane and scans the area. He sees the ball of light that Aran and Qhortho are having trouble hitting, but there doesn’t seem to be anything else around. He takes note of how the necklace looks around Qhortho’s neck: the item doesn’t have the same shadowy appearance that other items have on the Material Plane. It’s as if the item exists in both planes at once. It also gives off a faint shimmer as it’s moved around.
Aran removes his glaive from the ground and backs away from that area, given that he can no longer see the wisp.
The wisp unleashes a strike of lightning into Qhortho.
Qhortho counters with two slashes through the center of the light. It bursts in a bright flash, causing him and Qarzdaq to squint and turn away. Aran stands ready to attack nothing.
Qhortho throws the necklace at the ground and lands gracefully.
ARAN: I don’t think having the necklace off makes any difference. It’s like we’ve opened some sort of…
He trails off.
QARZ: I agree. I don’t want to destroy it because then we may have to chance to attack those creatures.
QHOR: What if they’re following us because we have the necklace?
QARZ: What if they’re not? What if they’re following us because you’ve already worn the necklace.
ARAN: What if you enter the Ethereal Plane while holding it then just leave it there?
QARZ: It’s worth a shot.
Qarzdaq picks up the necklace and blinks out of their view, except the necklace is still floating in place.
Qarzdaq tosses it away from their camp and returns to the Material Plane.
QARZ: Well, we’ll see if that…
Aran and Qhortho point at the necklace in plain view not twenty feet away.
QARZ: Damn it all.
ARAN: Ok let’s put it on this tree and get over a hundred feet away. Oh I still have this rat doll too.
Aran takes it from his backpack and shakes it around a little.
QHOR: That thing is creepy as fuck.
Aran approaches Qhortho, holding the dead rat at arm’s length.
QHOR: Don’t take another step.
Qhortho takes a defensive stance and places his hand on the hilt of his blade. Aran puts his arm down and laughs at Qhortho. Qhortho joins in a second later.
Being in a jovial mood for some reason, they joke about putting the necklace on Rolan, letting him just hover in his deep sleep. They joke about how he’d just be a floating corpse by morning because he wouldn’t have been able to speak up about being zapped to death by whatever creatures loom around them.
They make some room between the necklace and their new campsite. Qhortho continues to be on watch.
About an hour later, Aran jolts awake by a strange sensation. There is something nearby. He jumps to his feet and arms himself.
QHOR: Dude, I got this. Go back to sleep.
Without responding, Aran takes off running away from camp, towards the necklace. Aran digs deep to give it all he’s got. Qhortho extends his arms and lets them drop to his sides with a soft thud.
QHOR: Dude!
Qhortho slumps awkwardly as he feels as if life essence is being drained from his being. Seeing this, Qarzdaq scrambles to his feet and prepares to blink. He closes his eyes and opens them on the Ethereal Plane. He sees a now frantic-eyed Qhortho righting himself, standing before a pink-and-purple specter. Qhortho is peering directly into its face and he doesn’t even know it.
Aran reaches the necklace, puts it on, and begins to hover. He now sees the specter in the distance with Qhortho standing right in front of it.
QARZ: Qhortho!
Qhortho isn’t able to hear him, but Aran does.
ARAN: I’m coming!
Both Qarzdaq and Qhortho look over to him, speeding quickly above the ground. Qhortho swings directly through the creature, but it doesn’t appear to interact with the being.
Aran doesn’t quite make it there before the being drains more life from Qhortho.
QHOR: Damnit! Stop doing that!
He swipes at the air again, just as Qarzdaq comes back to the Material Plane.
QARZ: It’s right in front of you!
Qarzdaq concentrates on the thought of sending a Scorching Ray right through this fucking thing. He closes his eyes and opens them to see he’s still on the Material Plane. “Fuck…”
Aran swipes his glaive through the spirit. It appears to take some damage, but not as much as he’d expect from the power he put into that strike. The others just see the glaive pass through the air. The specter turns to him and screams in his face. With another strike, the specter vanishes.
ARAN: Ok, it’s dead guys!
Qhortho is jumping back and forth, very much on edge.
QARZ: I think we need to burn the necklace.
QHOR: And that rat. Burn ’em both.
ARAN: But at least now we can fight back against these things.
After more deliberation, they determine they need to get to Blackwater Crossing as quickly as possible. They also decide that whoever is on watch will have to wear the necklace and wield the Valyrian great sword so they don’t get caught by surprise again. Qarzdaq refuses to use the necklace so it is decided that he will not take watch. Neither Aran nor Qhortho would forcefully curse their friend, even if it becomes harder on themselves. A mark of a true bond.
They decide they must press forward. They tie the horses in stagecoach-style and use the attached cart as the sleeping quarters. A little tight, but they don’t mind. A mark of a true bond.
Besides, they can use Rolan as a barrier between them so it’s not gay.
Qhortho dons the necklace and takes the first driving shift. He floats just above the saddle. As the day breaks, Qhortho’s ability to see through the dark fades. Aran wakes up and calls out to Qhortho, which wakes up Qarzdaq.
A little tweaky, Qhortho spouts out some words of wisdom.
QHOR: Aran. Good. You’re up. I think we might be safe in the daylight. I can’t see in the dark now.
The morning sun has vanquished the horrible night.
Spiritual Awakening
Given this revelation, they decide on a new shift regimen: Qarzdaq will take 8 hours during the day, Aran will take the next 8 hours, and Qhortho would take the last 8 hours. They stop for a moment so Qarzdaq can take the reins. Qhortho and Aran exchange weapons and Aran takes the necklace.
Qarzdaq and Aran take to the saddles, and away they go.
After a few hours, Aran isn’t noticing anything out of the ordinary. “Looks like Qhortho was right.”
Several hours later, they stop so Aran can take the reins. Qarzdaq decides to stay awake with him for a while. After a few more hours of travel, daylight fades, and Aran begins to see through the dark.
ARAN: I see something out in the distance. It looks like the glow of one of those ghost things.
Qarzdaq looks across the plains, but even with darkvision, he doesn’t see anything but swaying grass in the night breeze.
ARAN: It doesn’t look to be following us. Wait… there are others… I see some blue andyellow lights out there too. They don’t look like they’re coming for us.
Aran turns his head to face front and is met with a bright white apparition. He immediately jolts back on the reins.
Qarzdaq hangs on to his horse and looks directly ahead.
QARZ: What are you doing?!
Qhortho smashes into Rolan in the cart, crushing his hand on a corner of the wood.
QHOR: Damnit man!
They look at Aran, his mouth open.
ARAN: What… the fuck… is that?…
Aran and Qarzdaq jump off their horses. Qhortho pops his head up in the cart to see over the horses.
QHOR: What’s there guys?
Just as their feet hit the ground, the gleaming white Banshee extends its arms towards Aran, screams and speeds towards him. Aran, breathing heavily, readies the Valyrian blade.
Qarzdaq and Qhortho look around intently, ears perked to hear the slightest whisper.
Suddenly Aran lets out an ear-piercing battle cry, causing the other two to startle slightly.
Aran cries out as the spirit approaches striking distance and slashes through the creature. That definitely felt like more contact than his glaive. He surges with speed and strength, and slashes again and again. Aran hears the constant scream of the Banshee fade out. He shakes his head to shake the lingering scream from his ears.
Just as Qarzdaq is about to Blink and Qhortho is going to rush into a battle he can’t enter, Aran turns to them.
ARAN: She’s dead guys. It’s all good.
Aran notices encroaching lights of various colors headed their way.
ARAN: Uhhh, guys? We… should… go…
The other two walk towards their previous locations.
ARAN: NOW!
They hurriedly get on their way and ride off until Aran’s had enough driving for the night. Qarzdaq and Aran climb back into the cart, with Rolan between them of course, and cozy up in the cool night. For warmth. For warmth only. Qhortho mounts his horse up front wearing his necklace and bearing his blade. It’s not gay.
Not soon enough, daylight returns.
They repeat this cycle every day over the next several days, killing another three Specters and a ball of light, before they see a town ahead. Finally.
Blackwater Crossing
A trade-based town is no more than an hour’s travel ahead. Getting closer, they see a bustling port full of docked and anchored ships waving flags of various colors — only very few fly sigils of Westerosi houses.
QARZ: This looks like the kind of place we could find someone to cleanse you fools.
They dismount and park their horses at a stable, leaving Rolan in the cart. Entering the town, Qarzdaq and Qhortho notice that many folk seem familiar. Not familiar as in they know them personally, but these people are… from Essos… There are many Westerosi here as well, but this is quite a varied trading hub.
Looking at all the ships, Qarzdaq and Qhortho share a glance. They are both thinking the same thing: they could finally go home.
Thinking it through, there is nothing holding them here. Tyrone is dead; the threat has been averted. They both also share a nagging feeling that there is more to learn here. After all, the Children are counting on them to find that prized artifact.
Qhortho looks to Qarzdaq. They pause, each trying to read the other. Qhortho turns his back on the port and to the plains of The Reach. Qarzdaq quickly glances at the ships, then to Qhortho, then to Aran. Qhortho takes this decision with a mark of pride.
QHOR: Though I did not arrive here by my own choice. Westeros has brought me fortune and adventure. And now
Confidently, Qarzdaq adds…
QARZ: My desire burns too strong for finding this Root of Knowledge. That said, once we have returned the Root, we could go to Essos. I could go to the holy temple again. I could even return the Amulet to the Great Temple in Volantis.
Qarzdaq says “we” as if the others would be involved. He assumes the group would continue traveling together once their goals have been met. A mark of a true bond.
ARAN: I think that returning the Amulet is a bad idea.
QARZ: You would.
ARAN: They are going to want nothing but power from it. You have too much faith in individuals.
Qarzdaq reflects this is probably true, but they deserve it, don’t they? Of course they do. One must always trust in those that wield power in the temple’s hierarchy, for the hierarchy is sanctioned by the Lord of Light himself.
QHOR: I don’t think my work here is done.
As they walk to busy streets, they get the sense that this is no community; communities are built on shared goals, trust, and companionship. This is just a very busy, yet peaceful, trading hub. Qarzdaq keeps an eye out for knowledge centers and religious structures, but none are to be found. However, the markets are substantial; some of which sell books, scrolls, and even items blessed by the gods themselves, or so the traders would have them believe.
They continue to take in the sights. Many open-air stalls sell trinkets and food from Westeros and Essos. Around the outside of the stalls are several permanent structures. These buildings are specialty shops selling exotic and common armor, weapons, and various other items. Just outside the market area to the west are a constable’s office and a fire brigade.
Qarzdaq is about to stop at one the stalls to asks where he might find magical items, but he notices the weapon shop. He leans over to Aran.
QARZ: Hey man, you should get your weapon silvered.
ARAN: Yeah, great idea actually.
Weapons
They enter the shop and before Aran can get the request out of his mouth, his eye is drawn directly above the merchant’s head where a glistening case holds a long, bladed weapon. It looks similar in many ways to Aran’s glaive, but the blade seems heftier and looks to be a work of art. It is adorned with a jade ring a few inches from the butt end.
ARAN: What is that?
MERCH: Oh. No, no, no. You can’t possibly afford.
ARAN: How much is it?
MERCH: This, prized possession.
ARAN: What, like ten gold?
He scoffs as if this encounter is beneath him. He breaks eye contact and just looks past Aran and around the store.
MERCH: If you have to ask price, trust me, you can’t afford.
ARAN: No, I want to know the price!
The merchant lowers his head slightly and looks directly at Aran.
MERCH: Two thousand platinum.
He stares into Aran’s eyes, gauging the Westerosi’s next response.
The price catches him slightly off guard, but he doesn’t react at all. With only a moment hesitation, he offers a deal.
ARAN: Ok, I have a necklace that you would love to have. It’s got to be worth a fortune. It lets you levitate.
Aran produces the necklace and puts it on. He floats above the floor and moves around a bit to show its authenticity.
MERCH: This of the gods themselves!
ARAN: AAAAND, it has skulls. It’s basically priceless. I mean you can fly around!
MERCH: I have no desire. Seems cursed. I no want.
ARAN: Ok. Now how much is that thing, for real?
MERCH: I tell you. Two thousand platinum.
ARAN: Two thousand platinum is outrageous. What’s so special about it?
He describes that the Jaded Guandau is a perfect and legendary work of art. It is also silvered and has some magical essence to it.
ARAN: What kind of magic?
MERCH: Lands hit, very much.
ARAN: Surely we can make some sort of deal that doesn’t require two thousand platinum.
The merchant just stares at Aran with deadpan eyes.
Qhortho jaunts up to help negotiate.
QHOR: I detect an interesting accent. Where are you from?
MERCH: East.
QHOR: Essos?
MERCH: Yes.
QHOR: Where in Essos? I’m from the Grass Sea.
MERCH: Yes. I see this. I from farther east.
QHOR: Well perhaps you could arrange a good price for friends of the east!
MERCH: If you know the east, you know no friend.
The group quickly convenes and even between all of them, they cannot come up with that kind of coin.
ARAN: Ok. So how much to silver this thing?
Aran places his glaive on the counter.
MERCH: This nice work. You have good taste. For you, fifty gold.
This is half the price that other shops offer, so he takes him up on the deal without further negotiation.
Qhortho gives the merchant more flak about buying the Jaded Guandau for half the price. The merchant declines.
ARAN: Come on, how many people around here are going to have two thousand platinum?
MERCH: This why I still own. And it stay in protected case.
QHOR: How did you come upon it?
MERCH: Past life. Trades.
QHOR: What did you trade for such a prize?
MERCH: None of your business.
QHOR: I’m making it my business. I just asked you.
MERCH: You did… But you really want?
The sly grin on his face indicates that maybe he doesn’t.
ARAN: Ok guys, lets get out of here. Please silver this thing. We’ll be back soon to pick it up. If you decide you’d take less for the Jaded Guandao, we can talk when I come back.
Gemstones
They leave the shop in search of a jeweler, which they find quickly enough. It is stocked with a wide variety of gemstones from common to pristine quality. All are behind glistening cases.
Aran figures this might be a good place to understand more about the X-marked coin taken from Jonah. He presents the steel-gray and silvery-white coin to the jeweler and asks if he knows what it is and how much it is worth. He hands it back almost immediately.
JEWELER: Where’d you get this?
Aran hesitates a moment.
ARAN: We found it along our travels.
The merchant puts up his hands in a motion that conveys he is backing off the question. It seems as if he changed his mind about even wanting it answered.
JEWELER: Ok. Ok. Ok. I can say this. They are rare. I am just going to assume it is yours, and as such, I will tell you where to go in town. As the sun sets, it will pass between the constable’s office and fire brigade stationhouse. As the sun falls below the horizon, take a deliberate step into the alleyway between the buildings. You will find your answers there.
ARAN: Thank you. You seem to be quite a knowledgeable person. Would you mind taking a look at a few items we’ve collected during our travels?
The merchant agrees. Aran carefully takes out a green and a red slaad claws, both fairly decayed, yet still rigid.
ARAN: They delivered quite a powerful poison. The green one was much more dangerous.
JEWELER: The potion master would probably want to see these!
ARAN: Ok, we’ll go talk to…
JEWELER: Wait. No need. I’ll buy one of each color for 2500 gold each. But that is the most I’ll pay.
Aran jumps on that deal.
Qarzdaq gets his Robe of Useful Items appraised at 150 gold. Qarzdaq declines. The merchant asks about 200 gold. Qarzdaq declines. The merchant raises his bid by another 50 gold. Qarzdaq declines, but it takes a little longer for the words to come out of his mouth.
QARZ: I’d do 500 gold though.
JEWELER: You ask too much, I’m afraid.
QARZ: Ok, how about 350?
The merchant looks over the item more closely.
JEWELER: Listen, I would do 300. You are missing a number of patches.
Qarzdaq goes into full-sell mode, detailing the great value attached to each individual patch on the robe.
QARZ: Look at this. A riding horse. You could manifest the horse right now and sell it and make back some of that difference just from walking down the street. If you ask me, it’s easily worth 400.
JEWELER: Would you do 325?
QARZ: No. I’ll do 350.
The merchant reluctantly agrees.
Aran looks at his Ring of Universatility and decides maybe that one is worth keeping, but he is trying everything he can to get the platinum for that guandao.
They spend another hour or so with the merchant, buying and selling a few gems, and selling their Deck of Illusions and a few other items.
Before they leave, Aran breaks out the skull necklace.
ARAN: Check this out.
Aran dons the necklace and begins hovering. He takes a lap around the shop.
MERCH: Whoa…
Aran removes the necklace.
ARAN: Yeah, we put this thing on and it invited some trouble on the road for us.
QARZ: We need to get rid of the trouble.
ARAN: What do you know about it?
The merchant is on edge as long as it’s visible so Aran puts it away.
ARAN: I just want information about it. I don’t want the trouble for anyone else, I just want to know how to get rid of it.
The merchant tells them of a magi in town that may be able to help them. He adds that they should destroy the necklace immediately after they know they are relieved of the curse.
Aran tosses him a gold coin and thanks him for the information.
Potions
They next go to the potion shop.
ARAN: We have numerous potions and salves that we might sell, but first, could you take a look at this? Have you ever seen one of these?
Aran shows one of the remaining slaad claws to the merchant.
MERCH: Interesting. I have not. In order to make a potion from a creature, you need to know what they do, what they are, who they are, where they came from…
ARAN: It’s a slaad. We know where they came from and what they do.
QARZ: They came through a portal from another realm.
MERCH: Which one? Can you describe it?
QARZ: Uh… no. I’ve never been in there. But if one of these things scratch you, it implants a small egg and it hatches some time later.
MERCH: Ah. So not a poison, but infestation. Interesting. Interesting.
The merchant reaches down to a small device attached to his thin chain necklace and places it into his eye. He puts his face near the claws.
ARAN: We also know the green one was much more potent.
The merchant looks up at Aran, his eye behind a lens is comically enlarged.
QARZ: Aggghhh! Sorry. The green one could actually use the higher mysteries and could take the form of a person.
The merchant shows something he finds interesting. There are small channels in the tips of the claws from where the eggs would be injected. He goes on to say that there is nothing useful in the claws themselves.
He provides Qarzdaq the opportunity and he looks through the lens.
QARZ: I see.
Aran takes a turn to look.
ARAN: Ah, yes. Ok.
When Qhortho is offered, he responds, “No. I’m not a magic user.”
The merchant looks at him blankly.
MERCH: Uh.. O… O… Ok…
Confused, he glances back and forth between Qhortho, his friends, and the claw. They make no attempt to explain, so the merchant lets it slide.
MERCH: The eggs would be inside other organs in the body. This is not something I would be interested in.
ARAN: Not at all? Really?
With that, a man bursts into the shop.
JEWELER: Samy, have I got something for you. It’ll be only 5,000 gold for each of them! If you buy both I could reduce it to…
He stops in his tracks when he sees the party with a claw on the counter.
MERCH: I was just telling these men that I am not interested in those. Where did you get that?
JEWELER: I bought these to sell you! You say they are worthless?? You always buy stuff like this!!
MERCH: I always tell you, let me see something before you buy it… These are interesting, but they have little value to me.
The jeweler is pissed, knowing he’s just thrown 5,000 gold out the window.
QHOR: We have a few more if you’re interested?
The jeweler throws one of the claws at Qhortho then storms out of the shop. A moment later, he runs back in, grabs the claw from the ground and runs back out.
It’s really a good thing they sold those claws to the jeweler before coming here!
Aran asks about the jar of black murky water with the brain inside. The potion master sees no purpose for such a thing and outwardly makes some assumption, without judgment, of what this group is doing in their spare time. They have him attempt to identify it anyway and he spends a solid ten minutes doing so. He tries everything he has in his arsenal, but he finds that it is nothing but some strange idea of a keepsake or something. There is no beneficial or especially detrimental attributes from any of the tests he’s performed.
ARAN: What about if you wear this necklace while you do that?
MERCH: I do not want to even touch that. There is a strange aura to it. Not exactly visible, but it just doesn’t feel right.
QARZ: Do you think the brain juice is safe to drink?
MERCH: Really?
Receiving no response, he becomes curious himself.
MERCH: I’ll check.
He takes an eye dropper sample of the liquid and squirts it into a small glass dish containing a slug. He repeats this three more times. None of them have any immediate effects.
MERCH: This tells me that it is not imbued with any special power, but let’s let them sit with that for a few minutes.
Aran asks about the vial of gray oil.
MERCH: Ah! Now this! This is interesting.
After watching the gray oil apparently seep through the glass and evaporate, he has an inclination. Once the party pays to have it identified though, he knows it’s the real thing.
MERCH: This is Oil of Etherealness. It can coat a person or creature of up to a normal human’s size, along with anything it’s wearing and carrying. It typically takes about 10 minutes to do a sufficient job, but if you do it right, the creature will be whisked away to the Ethereal Plane for an hour.
Aran asks about the gray aloe-scented sludge they collected from the cauldron. It turns out this is K’s Ointment. It seems the merchant has a hard time pronouncing the actual name, which is Keoghtom’s Ointment. This ointment can be swallowed or applied to the skin. The creature that receives it regains 2d8 + 2 hit points, ceases to be poisoned, and is cured of any disease.
Aran is happy to learn that the waterskin he filled with the stuff contains 4 doses!
The merchant agrees to split up the doses stored in the waterskin into separate vials.
They go back to the slugs and find one shriveled, one stopped moving, one is rolled onto its back and trying to move, and the last one is only moving in circles.
MERCH: Yeah, I wouldn’t drink that.
Since the merchant has no real use for it except a conversation piece, the party decides to keep it.
Before they leave, they purchase a pristine Shadowcap for Rolan.
Armor
They leave the potion master and go back to their cart to feed the Shadowcap to Rolan, then they’re off to find the armor shop. They walk in to a whole array of various armor styles. They are all similar to the broad types of armor they already know, but these have certain twists of color and style.
There aren’t any magically-enhanced sets here, but there may be something worth purchasing.
Qhortho walks up to the shopkeeper and asks for full plate. The shopkeeper directs him to a number of full plate armor sets standing along the wall.
SHOPKEEP: Are any of these to your fancy?
QHOR: I have an interesting request. You see, I currently have this amazing set of scale mail that was made from a dragon that I, myself, slayed, and I have special attachment to it.
SHOPKEEP: … oh boy …
QHOR: Would you describe yourself as a master armor smith?
SHOPKEEP: I’m no master. And I would trust no man that claims to be such. There is always more to learn.
QHOR: Do you think you could incorporate my scale mail into a set of plate?
He grimaces at the thought. He looks over the scale mail, taking interest in how the light shimmers off it’s gleaming gold surface.
QHOR: Yeah. These are rea l dragon scales.
SHOPKEEP: They certainly are! I wouldn’t change a thing about this. I would leave it just as it is.
Qhortho is slightly disappointed by this.
SHOPKEEP: But hey, you look like a man of strength. May I direct you to this set of plate here?
The shopkeeper shows Qhortho to a set of armor with spikes emerging from its surface.
SHOPKEEP: If you pull someone into you in battle, they are sure to be injured by the suit itself. It’s not exactly something easy to sneak around in, but you don’t seem to be the rouge-ish type.
QHOR: I’m not sure I like the spikes.
SHOPKEEP: Well, it’s not for everyone.
ARAN: Hey so how much would his Gold Dragon Scale Mail be worth anyway? Five thousand platinum?
SHOPKEEP: Ooof… No.
QHOR: Have you ever seen a dragon in real life?
SHOPKEEP: Sure! Over in Essos, the Valyrians are using them as war machines!
QHOR: And you can’t turn Dragon Scales into plate?
SHOPKEEP: Well, no. It is impossible to melt down a dragon’s scales into a single piece of metal.
QHOR: What if I wore the dragon scale on top of the plate?
SHOPKEEP: Sure. You could do that. It would give you some resistance to fire so you won’t cook inside the plate.
ARAN: It’s called double-bagging it.
They all look at Aran. The dryness of the delivery makes them take a moment before they all burst out in laughter. Once it dies down, Aran turns to the shopkeeper.
ARAN: Ok so really. How much is his armor worth? We’re all friends here.
SHOPKEEP: I’d do 3000 gold. It’s clear that it has been used in battle, so that’s the max I would go.
Qhortho ponders this but really wants to keep it. Instead, Qhortho continues to peruse the selection of plate.
SHOPKEEP: The line of plate armor here will run between 1,500 and 2,000 gold.
QHOR: I was really looking to spend 500 or maybe even 700 tops. How about this one here? How does 800 sound?
Qhortho points out a set that just oozes Essos.
SHOPKEEP: That one is 1750.
Qhortho asks specially for one that is 1500. The shopkeeper shows him a very simple, yet effective, set of plate armor.
QHOR: Can we do 1300?
SHOPKEEP: No.
QHOR: I can persuade harder.
SHOPKEEP: I believe you could. And then this sale would not happen at all. Look, how about 1475. You can feel like you’re getting a deal.
QHOR: Alright, so if I sell the Dragon Scale armor and buy this set of plate, you would give me another 1525?
SHOPKEEP: Yes.
The proceed with the transaction. Before they leave, Aran asks for an appraisal on Jonah’s swords. He describes their additional functionality and the shopkeeper is intrigued.
ARAN: Be careful though. They’re loaded.
The shopkeeper is interested, but tells him that this would take time to sell.
SHOPKEEP: They’re very off balance for the typical swordsman. Sure, the buyer is out there somewhere, and they’d likely pay a decent amount for them, but they’re going to sit here for a long time. That’s room taken up in my shop and time I need to spend pitching them to every person that enters my shop. I’d be a buyer at 400 for the pair.
ARAN: Yeah, I was just curious.
SHOPKEEP: I don’t know that you’ll find a better price, but if you do, I suggest you take it.
They leave to pick up Aran’s glaive.MEGA
Aran enters the shop while the owner polishing his glaive.
ARAN: All ready?
MERCH: Yes, just giving nice glisten. I clean up steel underneath. Give it nice smooth and sharp edge before I silver. Nice equipment, yeah?
ARAN: Ok, so seriously now. How much for that one? What if I trade in this beautiful glaive you’re holding?
MERCH: Well, this not really special, it just has my hand to it. That up there. That is special. Unique. Never find again. Look, you want trade? You look around shop. Many blades and polearms on display.
ARAN: How about I show you how special it is in combat?
MERCH: What?
ARAN: I’m kidding my friend. I just mean that it’s served me well.
MERCH: Good thing I have sense of humor. But again. It is 2000 platinum. No less.
ARAN: Ok, what about this great axe?
MERCH: Ah yes. Great axe. So great it look just like rest.
ARAN: This axe is going to make Essos great again.
MERCH: Yes. MEGA. Yes. Very good. I give you 20 gold max.
Aran agrees with this.
ARAN: Look, I’m just trying to get enough gold to buy this thing.
Aran asks for greater description about the Jaded Guandao, just to be sure it’s worth all this trouble. From everything he pieces together, it seems like this is a +3 magical and silvered polearm.
Aran gets a little warm in his britches.
MERCH: It is best you have ever seen. I’m sure of it.
Not to be bested by some ornament on the wall, Qhortho reveals the Valyrian great sword strapped to his back.
QHOR: Take a look at this!
MERCH: Ah, see? Now you show something I buy!
ARAN: No we’re not selling that.
QHOR: I’m just interested in what you can tell me about it.
MERCH: Yes. Valyrian Steel. Yes. Essos blade.
He looks it over carefully and starts to remove the wrapping Qhortho put around the pommel. He looks up to Qhortho to see if he would get any signs of protest. Qhortho nods. He reveals the gleaming jacinth stone nested in a Valyrian Steel cage. The merchant nods with respect.
QHOR: Do you recognize this blade?
MERCH: I do not know this blade exactly. No. But I expect, this not yours.
He wraps it up as it had before.
ARAN: We came by it fair enough.
MERCH: Probably crafted here in Westeros. Has a beauty. A personalization. In Essos, we use for function mostly. Probably belong to a known House here in Westeros. The jacinth stone tell such story. You ask around about jacinth and look at house sigils. I bet you find.
They leave the merchant with the glaive just as the sun enters the final quadrant in sky.
Magi
They ask around the streets for the location of the magi and are directed towards a tent covered with animal skins at the end of one of the streets. Opening a flap to the tent into overbearing incense, they squint as they look through the thin smoke to a frazzle-haired woman sitting on a stuffed chair.
MAGI: Yes? What can I do?
Aran doesn’t say a word. Instead, he puts on the necklace and floats across the room to her.
She scrambles backwards slightly, then relaxes and shudders. She tells them that anyone who has worn the necklace must be cleansed to remove the curse. She strongly recommends destroying the necklace afterwards. She picks up on the fact that Aran and Qhortho are both cursed, even though only Aran has worn the necklace in her presence. She looks at Qarzdaq curiously, as if there is something else to his essence, but she cannot pinpoint it other to say that it is not exactly a curse.
MAGI: Cleaning is no easy task.
ARAN: What does it take?
MAGI: We can do tonight. Midnight. 500 gold each.
ARAN: What if we traded this necklace?
MAGI: I do not want that necklace. I would like you to destroy it in front of me after the cleaning. If you won’t do that, then if you assure me you will destroy it soon after, I will accept that.
ARAN: You wouldn’t do it for 900 for the both of us?
MAGI: NO!
ARAN: I got this fucking thing I need to buy that’s…
MAGI: NO!
ARAN: Fine.
QHOR: Sold.
The magi asks about where the necklace originated and Qarzdaq tells of witches in the woods.
MAGI: Always witches.
QARZ: Well there are three less now.
MAGI: Oh? You destroyed an entire coven? They are very dangerous when they form a coven.
QARZ: Oh, we hadn’t even realized. They were fighting about who should lead them.
MAGI: Ah, this is why you destroy them so easily. Or at least in part. They were distracted and had not established their hierarchy. Interesting. You’ve done the world a service.
ARAN: Does that get us a break in the price?
MAGI: NO!
QHOR: So how did this thing curse us anyway?
They discuss their interactions with the necklace and what they’d seen.
MAGI: Every curse is a little different. It seems that if you wear this necklace long enough in a single use, you will begin to see into another plane. When you cross into their plane, you exist in both, whether you wear the necklace or not. However, if you do not wear the necklace after being cursed, anything on that plane can see you and interact with you, but you cannot see or interact with them. This is the type of curse that would make one seem insane to anyone else and may even get them locked up.
They part ways with the magi, intending to return at midnight once she has prepared everything for the cleanse.
Den of Thieves
The sun is just setting when the party arrives at the alleyway between the constable’s office and fire brigade. Aran is sure to have two items in his pocket that he retrieved from Jonah’s body: the steely coin and a gear key.
As it disappears below the horizon, they all step forward, one after the next, slipping into a torchlit hallway that was not there a moment ago. A door is at the end of the hallway. They walk up to the door and knock. A viewport opens at eye level. Aran waves the coin in view. The viewport closes. A second later, the door opens for them.
They enter a simple taproom with a few tables taken and about that many open. They take a seat at an empty table. They aren’t really given any other notice; the hushed conversations around them show that these other patrons are busy with their own business.
Aran walks up to the bartender and asks for a drink.
BARTENDER: We don’t have a great selection, but we don’t serve none of that Buddy’s Bright.
ARAN: Ha. No. I’ll just take whatever you recommend. It’s my first time here. Can you give me the lay of the land?
BARTENDER: Huh. First time here and you’re in this place? You must have some provenance.
ARAN: I came across the key, so to speak, on the road.
BARTENDER: The key?
ARAN: This.
Aran places the steely coin on the bar top. The bartender looks down at it for a few seconds then back at Aran.
BARTENDER: You say you came across it. So do you know what that is?
ARAN: I… know part…
The bartender cuts him off.
BARTENDER: You don’t have to answer that. I’d actually rather not know the answer to that. This coin denotes a high rank in the Thieves’ Guild. It is not given out lightly. It is typically earned after achieving stature from a series of jobs or of a particularly important job. It’s obvious that you did not earn this. That’s ok. It gets you in places like this. The other way of attaining such an item is by force. This is not exactly the type of token given to someone who is expected to be physically overtaken or captured. If you took it from its previous owner, then you own it.
ARAN: We’ve had several run-ins with its previous owner. The last one didn’t end so well for him.
BARTENDER: Just be careful. It can be taken from you the same way. Once these things are out there, they can be a mark. Almost a curse, if you will. By the way, do you know what that is made from? It’s a substance called arsenopyrite. It’s almost as hard as iron, but it can be dissolved in aqua fortis, strong water, (nitric acid) to release sulfur gas; when it is heated, it becomes magnetic and gives off toxic fumes. Not that you would intentionally use it in these ways, but they are interesting properties nonetheless.
ARAN: Thank you for the information. Hey so listen, I am interested in making a lot of money on some jobs. Anything you can recommend?
BARTENDER: I’m sure there are jobs around. You might ask a few of the patrons.
Qhortho walks up to the bar.
ARAN: Ok, I might do that. We’ll see. Thanks again.
QHOR: Would you happen to know where there might be some street fighting rings? Anywhere a man could take a little dive on the down low?
BARTENDER: There won’t be around here. The town has certain orders to maintain its location and trade permissions from Highgarden. The best place for that is in Oldtown.
QHOR: I’m already champion of Oldtown!
BARTENDER: Champion of Oldtown? That’s a Dothra… Wait…
QHOR: I am Qhortho of the Dothraki!
BARTENDER: The horse fucker??
Aran and Qarzdaq laugh uncontrollably.
Qhortho loses his temper and grabs the bartender by his shirt, lifting him off the ground.
Immediately, everyone in the taproom jumps to their feet and draws weapons. Chairs and tables are knocked over in the process. Everyone is poised for action. Well, almost everyone. One person with a curly head of dark hair remains seated, just watching the scene unfold.
Qhortho continues to hold the bartender. Aran resists the urge to draw his weapon in response and instead announces to everyone that he was just insulted and there will be no blood shed.
ARAN: Right Qhortho?
Aran smacks him on the back. Qhortho looks around, still holding the bartender in the air.
QHOR: Sheathe your weapons. I will not be insulted by the likes of him or anyone else!
He releases the man, who stumbles when he lands and falls behind the bar. He gets to his feet and flattens his shirt. The patrons continue to hold out their weapons, though their desire to use them is waning.
BARTENDER: Look…
Qhortho turns back to the bartender, a scowl across his face.
BARTENDER: I mean no offense. Surely you know that is how it was promoted on all of the postings.
QHOR: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
BARTENDER: The postings were all over The Reach. This isn’t going to be the last time someone makes such a mistake. Again, I meant no offense; I thought you just go by the horse… I mean… I thought that was just what you went by.
QHOR: Anyone who calls me such a thing will meet the same fate as my opponent.
Seeing as Qhortho has lowered his voice and the encounter has ended, the patrons sheathe their weapons and go back to their business.
BARTENDER: I see how you bested the previous owner now.
ARAN: Are you interested in brokering a deal for me? It would make you a lot of money.
BARTENDER: What kind of deal?
Aran gets down closer to the bar and leans towards the bartender.
ARAN: I’d be willing to sell this coin for 2,000 platinum.
BARTENDER: I do not want that sort of headache.
ARAN: What if you found a buyer and you take, say, 10%?
BARTENDER: Interesting. Maybe. Even this goes against the tenants of what I am supposed to uphold.
ARAN: I want something that will cost 2,000 platinum.
BARTENDER: I’m sorry. I must decline. I don’t want to be involved in any part of this. I suggest you talk to that guy over there.
He points to the guy with the curly hair that remained seated during the commotion. Aran discreetly takes a platinum coin out of his pocket and slides it across the bar.
ARAN: I appreciate your discretion in this matter.
BARTENDER: Let me get you another ale.
The bartender places the tankard on top of the platinum coin and slides it back to Aran. When Aran picks up the tankard, he pockets the platinum coin and thanks him again.
BARTENDER: As long as you own that coin, you are welcome back.
Aran walks over to the table pointed out to him and asks if he can talk for a few minutes.
SHIFTY GUY: Shuua.
ARAN: I was sent over by the bartender. He said you were the guy I need to talk to so I can sell an item I have.
The guy responds unintelligibly. This is going to be… difficult. His body language and tone of voice conveys that he wants to see what Aran’s got to sell, but damn it all if those were the words spoken.
Aran pulls out the X-carved coin and places it on the table. Again, the man responds unintelligibly. Aran tries to parse the words, but it’s taking everything he’s got. The man gets the sense he’s not being understood and repeats himself.
SHIFTY GUY: Wha dija git da?
Aran thinks to himself… “where did you get that”… ok…
ARAN: That doesn’t really matter. Someone tried to kill our group and they chose the wrong ones to attack. I’ll just say that. I want to get rid of this thing, and I want 2,000 platinum. There’s 200 gold in it for you if you can sell it to someone else.
The man leans back in his chair and coughs in a strange way. Was that a laugh? Yeah, it was.
ARAN: That seems like a good price. What would make it worth your time?
The man leans forward and just looks over Aran. He leans the chair back on two legs and watches Aran carefully. Something doesn’t seem right. Aran starts to get on edge. Seeing this, Qhortho and Qarzdaq are also starting to get on edge. What the hell are they still doing around this place? It’s only now that they sense they’re really not supposed to be here…
A couple of patrons seem to have overheard the conversation, at least pieces of it, and are getting a little shifty.
Aran stands up. The guy lets his chair fall forward onto all of its legs.
He says something that sounds like “wait, wait, where are you going?”
ARAN: Do we have a deal or not?
The guy moves his arm in a sweeping motion as if to say, “come back, let’s talk.” Aran sits. Qhortho and Qarzdaq stand behind Aran on either side of him.
The guy says something that contains the words “see the coin” though there are a number of sounds on either side of that phrase. He follows it up with a hand motion indicating he should pass it over to him.
Aran puts one hand on a handaxe at his side as he slides the X-carved coin across the table.
The guy picks it up. Flips it in the air. Catches it. Turns it around in his hand. Something about the coin catches his eye. Whatever it is, he doesn’t like it. He’s trying to hide his displeasure.
ARAN: So you know who’s it is.
He tosses the coin at Aran and says something to the effect of “get the fuck outta here.” Aran catches it.
ARAN: No interest then?
The guy asks again where he got it and again, Aran repeats, that the previous owner messed with the wrong group.
QHOR: You want to know the truth?
Qhortho leans in.
QHOR: I killed Jonah Bick.
ARAN: He traveled with us and later betrayed us.
QHOR: He attacked us. He drew first blood.
He stands up, slams over his chair and walks to the back of the room to a wooden door. He glares at Qhortho before leaving the room through that door.
Within the group, they discuss some options. The other patrons in the taproom grow a little restless as these strangers discuss in whispers.
ARAN: Should we follow him back there?
QARZ: I don’t think so. I think we’re good.
QHOR: I think we get the fuck out of here.
ARAN: We could kill everyone in here. I’m not worried about them.
QARZ: You’re probably right, but we should go.
They leave the taproom and once out in the street Aran is the first to speak.
ARAN: We may run into some trouble tonight.
QARZ: Yeah, from the demons.
ARAN: And from those guys in the bar.
QARZ: We should probably all stay in the same room tonight.Back on Track
A few hours later, they go back to the magi’s tent.
The magi welcomes them back, collects payment, and begins the ritual on Qhortho and Aran. It take hours. Various types of smoke are blown in their faces, sometimes it stings their eyes, other times it smells sweet. They each pass out a few times over the course of the ritual.
After the ritual is complete, they each feel exhausted. They exit the tent with the sun just above the horizon.
Qarzdaq suggests their next course of action should be to secure a ship and crew so they can track down the Root of Knowledge.
They go to the docks and speak with the dockmaster.
DOCKHAND: Alright, what kind of ship? What kind of crew ya got?
ARAN: What can we get for five gold?
DOCKHAND: Five gold? Can’t even get a rowboat for no five gold.
QARZ: We want a fast sailboat with a crew.
DOCKHAND: A light cog will run ya 5,000 gold.
QHOR: How about a keelboat?
DOCKHAND: A keelboat will run ya 3,000 gold.
ARAN: How safe are the waters out here?
DOCKHAND: It’s a bay, so the waters are not as bad as the open sea, but there are all sorts of threats out there.
They decide the keelboat is the boat for them. They decide against purchasing a crew.
DOCKHAND: Are you on some sort of reconnaissance mission?
QARZ: No, we’re going fishing.
DOCKHAND: Ah, fishing is good. Fishing is good.
The dockhand is not really buying it, but he doesn’t really seem to want to know the truth.
DOCKHAND: I ask because you might want to get into smaller areas along rocky shores. If so, you might want a rowboat on board or a dinghy? I’ll throw it in for another 25 gold.
They convince him to throw it in at no additional cost. While the dockhands prepare the ship for them, they retrieve Rolan. They board their ship and set everything up for their voyage. They realize they are short on some food so they must stop by the market. Before they go, Qhortho tries out his new armor. Lo and behold, he can barely move in this stuff! This is not going to work for him. Time to visit the armor shop as well…
With Rolan asleep for the past 9 days, he will require 9 more days to awaken. It is now Day 412 and over this latest section of their journey, they have gained experience from several sources: by killing creatures from the Ethereal Plane, for learning that they had become cursed and finding a cure, and for learning they have a surefire way into any Thieves’ Guild in existence (+2990 XP each, 51kXP total). Maybe next time they play as if they earned that token. Perhaps not. We’ll only find out when it comes time for The Unlikely Assembly!