Eight - Poor Choices

The Party stood before the entrance to Goldenthrone and the day was pressing on. Ideally, they would set out for Orolunga the following day and there was still much to accomplish by nightfall.

First on the agenda was to resupply in Port Nyanzaru's vibrant bazaars. However, as they set off, Uthal expressed his desire to acquire a tattoo; Tattoos were highly symbolic in his Goliath culture and his grey skin was currently a blank canvas.

It look a few minutes, but a stall was located; manned by a Elf who covered with all manner of inked patterns.

Initially, Uthal described how he wanted a great depiction of a battle between a bear and a mammoth, splayed across his back.

However, the Elf explained that the size of tattoo Uthal was describing would likely take weeks to complete.

Also, what's a mammoth?

Uthal briefly described a hairy elephant to the Elf, who had clearly never ventured to the northern reaches of the world, before settling upon an image of a bear in a fighting stance, to be inked upon his neck; he would return to have the mammoth added another time as this portion of the tattoo alone would take a number of hours and they would be here well into the night.

This battle of beasts, Uthal elaborated, was the combined symbol of the Goliath clans Bearclaw and Mammoth; of which he was the mighty leader, having united them into one great clan.

Stood directly behind Uthal, who was happily recounting his life story to a stranger, Garth, Reksus and Gorg exchanged confused looks as they recalled Uthal previously telling them of how he had grown up as a captive in Baldur's Gate...

A little bewildered, the three left the Goliath with his new friend and stepped into the throng of the Red Bazaar. Quartermaster Garth had a handful of errands to run and Uthal had also requested somebody purchase a couple of throwing hammers for his arsenal.

A blacksmith was quickly located and Garth inquired about the hammers; the price was significantly steeper than expected, but a few words from the silver tongued Bard stood beside him and a good price was agreed upon.

It was a similar story at a stall selling an array of animal by products; teeth, skins and bones etc. Although this time the Cleric wished to sell what had been harvested from the creatures they had slain on their recent expedition.

A few more words from Dandyman and a deal was struck.

Finally, three more rain catchers were purchased. Now that the party had one per member, perhaps they could be less reliant on Garth's ability to expend arcane power in exchange for water.

As the final transaction was made, the group took note of the time of day; it was well into the evening and they still needed to find Volo and question him on his knowledge of Orolunga. It was agreed they would continue the resupply in the morning and they set off for Kaya's House of Repose; the last known location of their quarry.

Under no circumstances did the party intend to stay the night at Kaya's; they couldn't afford it. They would likely look for rooms at the Thundering Lizard later that night. Gorg, itching to investigate a tavern known for its raucous nature, decided to head there straight away; if the party was to be charged for breathing the fine air of The House of Repose, perhaps fewer sets of lungs present would reduce the cost. Thus the party split once more.

The entrance to Kaya's House loomed and Reksus and Garth approached cautiously. Their coin purses were a little heavier than when they last encountered the venue ,but still, they would prefer if it remained that way.

Garth made to greet the hulking doormen, but they merely grunted and gestured that they enter.

There it was. The long corridor that haunted their dreams. The Maître d', stood behind a finely polished podium.

They approached.

The Maître d' greeted them with a wide grin; the Reezlanders were, of course, always welcome. Garth explained the situation; they were looking for Volothamp Geddarm, whom they believed was currently enjoying the facilities. How much would this cost them...

But as it happened, Volo wasn't there. He had in fact been thrown out earlier that evening (Apparently the owner had taken issue with Volo drunkenly peddling his latest book to the patrons).

No use waiting for further excuse. Garth and Reksus thanked the Maître d' and swiftly made their exit; coin purses intact.

Passing the doormen, they asked which direction Volo had gone since his removal from the establishment; both gestured in the direction of the Thundering Lizard.

Meanwhile...

Gorg strolled through the doors to the Thundering Lizard and took a moment to drink in the atmosphere.

The air was thick with the aroma of blood, sweat and ale and the noise of jeering, taunting, laughter and incomprehensible conversation was deafening.

Gorg was home.

He clocked the barkeep, made his was through the crowd and ordered a local ale; it was dark, like treacle and strong. The atmosphere in this place was perfection, save for some fool in the back shouting about a book he had written.

He decided to drown him out with a good conversation and beckoned to the barkeep again. They wound their way onto the topic of Gorgs time in the gladiatorial rings and the Barkeep pointed out three individuals who fought in the local arena; They were Twin Sticks, Wolfclaw and The Hammer (The current champion).

Gorg longed to challenge each of them some day.

Garth and Reksus gingerly approached the doors to the Thundering lizard. The noise coming from within was horrifying and stench of the place could be sensed from several streets away.

Stepping through the doors, no effort was made to alter their opinions of the place; barely a soul seemed close to sober and fights were breaking out constantly. Kaya's house suddenly seemed so much more welcoming.

Nevertheless, they spotted Gorg at the bar across the room and scuttled over; doing their best not to touch anything sticky. They greeted their companion and were introduced to the barkeep.

Garth, not wanting to spend any longer in this room than necessary, inquired about Volo. He was here. The barkeep gestured to a man towards the back of the room, waving a book in some unimpressed faces.

The party waded through the crowd and interrupted the man's slurred sales pitch. They bade him to join them in discussion over a proposition they had; he agreed, provided they buy him a drink.

Conversation with Volo was a challenge, he was completely intoxicated, but they eventually extracted a few useful nuggets of information; various rumours of possible treasures and and hidden locations within the jungle.

Unfortunately, it seemed Volo would be otherwise useless in their quest to seek out Orolunga; he had no desire to travel there himself, nor did he seem to have any information on how to pass the trials of Saja N'baza. He would, at least, perhaps pay them for information of their own adventure. Should they return.

And so the famed author slid from his seat and stumbled over to a new group of potential book sales.

An unsuccessful venture, but no time lost in reality; although it would have been desirable to have an extra body in their party for the journey ahead.

Garth, sensing the time (and the way his tunic was sticking to something vile on his stool), decided he would turn in for the night. Not wanting to spend more time than necessary in the tavern, he asked if anyone wold be joining him in camping for the night. It was, of course, at this moment that Reksus revealed he had already procured three rooms for the night; how generous.

They were making for the stairs when a crash from across the room caught Gorg's attention. A Goliath stood, holding two limp Half-Orcs by the back of their heads; this was The Hammer, champion of the area.

Gorg turned from his friends and strode up to The Hammer; who struck the heads of his combatants together like a pair of conkers.

Oi, that looks like fun! And Gorg punched the champion square in the jaw.

Blue lightning crackled between the Goliath's clenched fists and he smirked. A moment later and The Hammer was surging forward, impossibly quick, each blow connecting with surgical precision. This of course did not deter The Green Tide, who returned the onslaught with vigor.

The thuds of powerful fists upon flesh filled the room and many punters turned their attention to the duel; it was a little more substantial than the regular tavern brawl.

The majority of Gorg's blows were connecting, and hard, but the Goliath's stamina was unyielding and rage began burning in his eyes.

The Hammer saw his opening. A misstep for Gorg and the Half-Orc's swing struck air. The blue lighting crackled once more between the knuckles of The Hammer and, with unbelievable speed, an uppercut sent Gorg sailing backwards over a table.

Gorg hit the deck and felt himself slipping into unconsciousness between some broken stools, but the raw determination from wilder heritage surged through his veins. He stood slowly, and took a step towards his opponent.

A hand on his shoulder; the barkeep.

I think you've had enough lad.

Gorg turned back to The Hammer, who returned to his seat and gestured that Gorg join him on the empty stool to his side; Gorg obliged.

The two struck up a hearty conversation, bonding over their experience as gladiators, and The Hammer recommended Gorg try his hand in the local arena. He also revealed that he was well acquainted with their previous guide, Azaka. Very well acquainted. They had been partners both the the arena and also. Elsewhere.

Fight her in the streets. Fight her in the sheets.

Garth, who had just joined them with Reksus at the table, remained in a constant state of blush throughout this subject of the conversation.

Bidding their new friend good night, the group finally made their way to their rooms.

On the way out, Garth requested that the barkeep find him a young boy.

This request was not taken well.

Following a frantic explanation, it transpired that Garth in fact wished to send a message containing their location to Uthal and hoped the barkeep may know of a young messenger boy to fulfil the request.

Tensions lifted, a boy was summoned, a few coppers pressed into his palm and he rushed off into the night.

The final touches were made to the magnificent bear upon Uthal's neck just as a young lad rushed up to the stall and announced the message from Garth. The boy then reached out his hand and requested five silver in payment.

With a sigh, Uthal pressed a gold piece into the boy's palm. Wide eyed, he bolted before the Goliath had a chance to rescind the payment.

Uthal entered the Thundering Lizard and approached the barkeep. He explained that his friends were staying here and there should be a room for him.

No extra room waiting, only the three that the Dandyman paid for.

Instantly furious, Uthal slammed down a gold piece for a room and marched upstairs; not before requesting the room number of his friend, the Bard.

Reksus' door burst open and a hulking silhouette stood in the doorway. He immediately awoke, but kept his eyes half closed in a poor attempt to feign sleep.

Uthal lunged for Reksus', who managed to wriggle from his grip twice before the Goliath clamped down on his shoulders and slammed him against the wall of the tiny room.

Uthal furiously questioned the Bard as to why he had acquired rooms for everybody except him. Reksus frantically explained how this was not a malicious act, but merely an error. After all, the party would usually each pay their own way in town. Reksus only purchased rooms for the companions he was with at the time out of the kindness in his heart.

Apparently satisfied, but still furious, Uthal dropped Reksus and abruptly left. Reksus let out a sigh of relief and placed the mask he had been subtly clutching back into his bag.

The party reunited as a whole at the breakfast table the following morning. The tavern was still busy, but the atmosphere was far more subdued; this was the time for nursing hangovers, before the drinking began again in the evening.

Due to the late night activities, everyone had actually slept well into the morning and it was now almost midday; ideally they would set be setting off on their next expedition well before sun down and there were still errands to run.

To the markets.

Quartermaster Garth led the group to a stall selling adventuring supplies and restocked on rations and insect repellent. As the transaction completed, the merchant recognised the party known as the Reezlanders; he had a message from Kwayothe, one of the merchant Princes, a request to meet her at her villa.

Garth's next stop was the Grand Souk, which was on the way to the Princes' villas, so they set off at once.

Passing through the Souk, Garth first stopped off at a jewel merchant and purchased a small diamond; he mentioned that it would be necessary in the casting of a spell he had been researching.

Next they stopped at a merchant selling books, parchment and general writing supplies. Garth first procured some cartography supplies and then inquired about a book which would perhaps teach him how to speak the local dialect of Common.

The merchant had but one tome, they were relatively rare, and it was two hundred gold. This stretched beyond the limits of Garth's available funds, but he did recall the arcane scroll that had been recovered atop the Firefinger. Garth was unfamiliar with the spell, but he had previously valued it at around two hundred and fifty gold pieces. The Cleric disliked bartering and fifty gold seemed like an acceptable loss in the interest of convenience; he offered up the scroll of commune with animals for trade.

The merchant barely allowed Garth to complete his sentence before accepting, thrusting the dictionary into the man's hands and snatching the scroll. The party watched as the merchant began bustling about packing up the entirety of his stall into some kind of enchanted storage device. Within mere minutes he was scurrying down the street, a skip in his step and muttering something about early retirement.

Something seemed a little off about the deal that Garth had made.

Confused, yet undeterred, the party made their way up to the Princes' villas. As was protocol, their weapons were left with the guards to the complex and they approached the home of Kwayothe. A servant girl, who introduced herself as Nestique, was on the front steps and the group explained that her mistress was expecting them; they were welcomed inside.

Kwayothe made no time for pleasantries and went straight to business:

She was experimenting with a new formula of repellent and she wished for the group to test out its effectiveness; five gold pieces a head would be offered as payment (Reksus began his usual routine of haggling for a better deal, but the Prince harshly shot him down before the words had barely left his lips).

As luck had it, her staff had recently reported a pest problem in her basement. The perfect opportunity; the party would head downstairs immediately.

Nestique lead them down to the basement and it was at this moment the party recalled how their weapons had been left at the gates. Nestique agreed to provide them each with a Chultian spear; a yklwa.

Now armed with the unfamiliar weapons, they entered the dark room. Reksus cast light, revealing a number of stacked boxes and crates, but no pests. They moved further into the room.

A disturbance behind some of the boxes.

Then, from the darkness, dozens of severed hands scurried across the floor towards them.

They clawed and grasped at their legs, mostly focusing on Gorg and Uthal who dispatched the "pests" with ease, but more now came from the boxes behind them and leaped towards Reksus. But still, they were only hands. A minute or two passed and all hostiles were crushed or skewered.

The party searched the remaining rooms for any other signs of movement, but it seems the basement was now completely empty.

Returning to Nestique, they questioned whether she was aware of the nature of these "pests". She was not, offering only that she suspected it was likely some kind of practical joke, played by another of the Merchant Princes. She lead them back upstairs to Kwayothe.

They reported that the basement had been cleared out and made to question her also about the strangeness of such an infestation, but she dismissed them immediately and gestured they take their leave, with her thanks.

Garth clocked a tone of knowing in her voice and decided to drop the issue; they accepted their meagre reward and made their exit.

With all errands now complete, the time had come to begin their journey to Orolunga. However, following a brief discussion, it was agreed that they all would prefer if their group were a little thicker in numbers. They recalled a fierce looking one armed Dwarf they had spotted at the tavern the night before and decided they would attempt to recruit him to the expedition; back to the Thundering Lizard.

Stepping through the familiar doors, and smell, they searched for the Dwarf, but no luck. They inquired with the barkeep who revealed the person they were looking for was in fact a guide; he was likely a the guide station.

Sure enough, they spotted the Dwarf as they approached the guide station; he introduced himself as Hew Hackinstone.

The Reezlanders explained their destination and desire to hire him, although requested if it would be possible to pay for his services upon return. Initially unsure on agreeing to this unorthodox request, he instead offered a discount, based upon the good word Azaka had put in for the party with the local guides. But on thinking a moment, he also offered that, were the group to assist in a quest of his own, he would agree to receive the discounted price upon return to Port Nyanzaru.

The quest?

Fight and kill the dragon named Tinder, who's lair was within Wormheart Mine.

This red dragon was responsible for taking Hew's arm and killing many of his comrades and he wanted revenge.

Garth was deeply troubled by the prospect of facing such a foe and Reksus was unusually quiet, but Uthal and Gorg were unfazed in the face of such a challenge.

It was agreed, they would face the Dragon.

#DD #DnD #TombofAnnihilation #DungeonsandDragons