Chapter Two: The Search Begins.

22 Mirtul, Year of Three Ships Sailing (1492 D.R.), shortly after highsun.

“Well, let’s get this over with.  As quickly as possible.” Eliana says, taking one last regretful look at her empty plate and then turning her glare on George.

He smiles at her sweetly, seemingly unruffled.

“George, you will be staying here. Don’t even think about going off on any ‘adventures’ of your own. And then, when I get back, you will be buying me a fine meal. Got it?” The Human archer continues grimly.

I expect George to protest but he retains his agreeable smile.

“Of course, Elie, of course!” He nods quickly. “I have been having a nice talk with our server, Bonnie. I will just chat with her a little longer”

Eliana turns towards Vaikner and myself.

“I plan to head to the Skewered Dragon first. Have a look around and find out what I can about this Floon. If you want to, you can come with me. Or, if you have other ideas, do as you will.” She rises from the table.

“That is a fine plan.” I agree.

“I will also accompany you.” Vaikner says quietly.

I step up to the table.

“The Skewered Dragon, you say?” I muse, reaching into my coat.

Tucked into an inner pocket, carefully protected from dust and rain, is my cherished copy of Volothamp Geddarm’s Guide to Waterdeep. I draw this out with a slight flourish and remove a map of the Deep that is folded into the back cover. Spreading it out flat over the table, I lean in to examine the small twisting streets of Dock Ward. Noticing that Vaikner brightens at the sight of the finely wrought and detailed map, I move over, leaving room for him to approach the table. Together, we begin tracing out the route from the Yawning Portal to our next destination.

“What in all the Realms are you doing?” Eliana’s irate voice breaks into our studies.

“I have not been here very long. I am working to familiarize myself with the territory but, for now, I use this map to guide my journeys through the Deep.” I explain pleasantly. 

“Right. And waving that map around like a flag of ignorance is a wonderful way to announce to the world that you are a stranger here. You are practically inviting trouble. Put it away!” She hisses.

I look up from my beautiful map. I pass my gaze slowly over my own form and then over to Vaikner’s purple robes, blue-black skin, and gleaming white hair.

“But we certainly are strangers to this place.” I say clearly.

“It is rather difficult to conceal. We do not exactly look like the typical Waterdhavians. If there is such a thing.” Vaikner adds in his crisply clipped tones.

“But do not worry. I am quite well-equipped to deal with trouble.” I smile confidently at Eliana.

“Look, the less attention you draw to us all, the less likely somebody is to try something! Just put the map away! If need be, we can always stop and ask for directions.” She sighs.

“That will not be necessary. I have now memorized our route.” I say calmly, folding up the map and slipping Volo’s volume back into my pocket.

We file out of the famous tavern and into the sun-hazed streets. There is little speech between us as we walk south. Eliana pulls ahead a little, moving confidently but observing her surroundings attentively as she goes. Vaikner seems torn between his desire to see all that he can of the Deep, and his dislike of the bright afternoon light. He occasionally squints up at the sky and takes brief pauses to rest in shadowed shop entryways. For a Drow to choose such continuous discomfort –  to make the decision to inhabit the light-drenched surface despite the irritation to his eyes and skin that this entails – he must be determined at least. Or, I consider with a shudder, the torments of the Underdark are truly terrible. And thus any lesser suffering is considered a blessed escape.

I look all about me, fascinated. We are taking Snail Street, one of the main roads bisecting this part of the Deep in the north to south direction. It is a wide byway and filled with the clatter of carriages, the snorts of horses, and the chatter of the colorful crowds swirling about us. Amidst this vibrant cacophony my air fills with the aromas of manure, sweat, smoked fish, and a dizzying variety of spices. All blown about by the refreshing, brine-laden wind off the sea. 

The buildings here are not particularly fine. They are mostly an assortment of two or three story houses, constructed of grey stone on the first level and then lighter stucco interwoven with dark wooden beams on the upper stories. The roofs are a mixture of slate and wooden tile. Most of the buildings are solid but some lean a little haphazardly against their neighbors. There are a few that appear to be privately held homes but most are emporiums selling a bewildering variety of goods. And work-shops where Humans, Dwarves, and Gnomes are industriously crafting tools, clothing, and utensils to be used in the home. Food vendors raucously announce their wares from carts laden with fruits, vegetables, and sea-life of all kinds.

It grows only slightly quieter when we turn off the main road and start navigating the little streets that meander through Southern and Dock Wards. The bustle here is just on a smaller scale. There are fewer large carts and more people hanging laundry out over lines strung between buildings. Not as many spacious work-shops but more sheds and lean-tos where tinkerers and artificers ply their trade. There are many children at play. I see a little group in a nearby alleyway, a Human boy and girl, and a Tiefling boy, all laughing together. They grow quiet and watch us with interest as my companions and I walk past them.

We have not gone far past these curious fledglings when the crowds mysteriously thin out. There is a sense of anxiety in the cooling air and our path is blocked by a group of City Watch officers. I peer beyond them and, to my immense consternation, see several bodies lying lifeless on the cobbles. At least two Humans, a Dwarf, and a Half-Orc rest crumpled and bloodied on the street nearby. Inhaling in sharp shock, I think of Yaghra and her attackers. At first I am not sure why. Then I see a flash of purple and I understand. These bodies are also adorned with lavender sashes. 

“Cursed gang skirmishes.” I hear one of the Watch officers mutter in disgust. “They are getting more bloody every day.”

I look to my new companions with concern. Vaikner takes a curious step towards the brutal scene. Eliana gives a warning shake of her head and then gestures for us to move further down the street.

“This is a fine city. But it seems so troubled.” I say sadly.

“Aye, but they are not our troubles.” Eliana says. “We have our own task. Let’s get on with it.”

We walk in silence to the Skewered Dragon. This tavern is much less pleasing than the Yawning Portal. A creaking wooden door, warped and in poor repair, opens into a musty room. I wrinkle my nose at the unappealing mixture of vinegary wine and rotten vegetables that permeates the dim space. Something damply sticky grabs briefly at the sole of my boot before releasing with a worrying squelch. My eyes widen, curious and confused. This seems an odd choice of a drinking spot for a renowned writer and raconteur such as Volo. Perhaps the inn’s fine beverages make up for its rather disreputable atmosphere?

There are only two customers at the bar and most of the tables are unoccupied. Eliana leads us to the closest free seats. I barely pause at the table before striding up to the bar counter to begin my investigation. The tavern keeper is a painfully thin, elderly Human woman. Her hair is bedraggled and there are amorphous stains splashed on her apron. Her rheumy eye turns towards me suspiciously as I approach, so I make sure to greet her with a bright smile.

“Good day to you Citizen. My companions and I are here looking for information about two of the guests that graced your…fine establishment last night. Volo and a friend of his. Name of Floon…” I begin cheerfully.

“Will you be getting anything to drink?” The barkeep asks sourly. “All this talk and no coin is doing nothing for my memory.”

“Ah, yes. I will take three Zzars, please.” I nod politely.

“That will be three shards” The woman turns sullenly to prepare the drinks.

A little shocked by the steep fee, I place three silver coins on the greasy counter and, in turn, receive three tankards of murky liquid. It does not smell like Durnan’s Zzar. I try but fail to resist the impulse to swirl the contents of my mug while examining it suspiciously. 

“So, about Volo and Floon?” I try again.

“Information isn’t free, Sweetling” The bar keep scoffs. “How about another shard?”

Increasingly irritated but needing the information that she is withholding, I place another silver in her hand.

“Never heard of them. Never saw them.” Her mouth snaps closed like a turtle’s and her beady eyes stare at me in triumphant challenge. 

I frown and then, taking a deep breath, pick up the tankards and return to the table to confer with my companions.

“The bar keep would not tell me anything unless I purchased these beverages.” I say, placing the lack-luster Zzar in front of Eliana and Vaikner.

“And what did she say once you bought the drinks?” Eliana asks.

“Then she requested an additional fee for information.” I answer angrily.

The Human archer raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, and then?”

“Then she still would not tell me anything.” I grumble.

“Yup. That’s about right.” Eliana sighs.

“I am now quite certain that she is deeply involved in whatever nefarious events have occurred here.” I state with conviction. “I fear that force may be required.”

“Force? Oh Lady spare me!” Eliana mutters, rolling her eyes. “You two drink your drinks. I will just have a word with that Dwarf over there.”

Eliana approaches the bar and sits down next to a Dwarf dressed in brown leathers. He is eating soup from a bowl and wipes his fingers on a crust of heavy dark bread, nodding at her as she joins him. Eliana speaks quietly and politely – in Dwarven. I cannot understand their conversation but it seems amicable. And he does not demand any coin from her.

Returning to our table, Eliana smiles.

“Well, I just had a lovely talk with Old Alkie. It turns out that we have two missing young men. Apparently Volo and Floon were here last night. Drinking and eating until Volo was…hmm, unceremoniously asked to leave. Not so good about paying his bill, is our Volo.” She says, frowning.

“Anyway, after Volo left, Floon was joined by another Human man, around his age and similar in looks. Sounds like they may both be fairly wealthy. Alkie described well-kept red hair, fine clothes, excellent boots…

“He saw these two young Humans head into the alley outside. Where they were promptly grabbed and dragged off. By who, Alkie did not see. Or would not say.” She finishes.

“He told you all of this?” I ask, impressed. “And he did not even request payment for his information?”

“No, no payment. And definitely no force required.” Eliana shakes her head again. “Actually, he offered me a job.”

“A job?” Vaikner breaks in curiously. “What kind of job would this be?”

“He works for the Guild of Net Weavers, Braiders, and Rope Makers.” Eliana answers. “So, weaving nets, I imagine.

“Anyway, I think we got everything we can from here. Let’s go and take a look at that alley where these two fancy gentlemen were nabbed.” She suggests.

Throwing one last suspicious look in the direction of the barkeep, I join Eliana and Vaikner outside. The alleyway is narrow but sufficient sunlight peeks through the surrounding rickety roofs to reflect in greasy rainbows off the water trickling down the cobbles. The source of the soapy flood is the tavern’s dishwasher; a beige-faced Human crouched on a stool in front of a  wooden tub overflowing with fat-glistening bubbles. He crouches over the tub, desultorily scrubbing at a dented pot before dipping it back into its mucky bath, causing another wave of scummy overflow to run down the street. 

Eliana approaches the man. Vaikner and I stand well back of the greasy waters but watch her with interest, still impressed by the information-gathering skills she demonstrated in the tavern. This conversation is much shorter and Eliana returns frowning.

“No, nothing useful here. Let’s go!” She says shortly.

“Did the dish washer not see anything? Or did he refuse to speak?” I question.

“He made it clear, quite rudely, that he was not interested in helping us.” She replies.

“He was rude?” I look over at the man, eyes narrowing.

“Just leave it alone, Elodie. Let’s be on our way.” Eliana says in exasperation.

Shrugging, but quite content to leave this unsavory place behind me, I say nothing more.

 We arrive back at the cross-roads between Zastrow Street and Filet Lane. Looking around us, trying to think of what our next move in the search for Floon should be, it is impossible not to be distracted by a nearby shopfront. This particular store occupies the entire ground floor of a well-built, ornately decorated wooden house built on the corner where the two streets join. The window display is arresting: a gigantic purple Beholder glares menacingly from behind a large pane of lavender-tinted glass. An actual Beholder! 

I take a step back, giving out a little gasp, before I realize that there is no way that an abomination like this would be content to benignly serve as an ornament in the shop window of a Waterdhavian merchant. It cannot be real. Vaikner is already hurrying towards the shop’s entryway. Eliana looks at us both, then gazes down the street to either side of the shop window.

“Floon and his friend would have been dragged out of the alley this way. Those shop windows are really big and you could probably see a good way down either of these streets from that corner. Wouldn’t hurt to go inside and see if the shop keeper saw anything last night.” She says speculatively.

A tinkly little bell sounds as we open the shop door. Inside, the purple color intensifies. Variations on this shade, from palest mauve to deep bruise-like magenta, are everywhere. Even the air seems hazy with violet-toned smoke. It smells like lavender. There is an uncanny feel to the place and I suspect that many of the items on display here are magical. All around us, the shelves and counters and cabinets are stuffed full of little wonders. I am drawn to the sparkle of several large gemstones and step swiftly to examine them more closely. Surely my quest will not be fulfilled so easily and quickly?

“Can I help you?” The shopkeeper has emerged from behind heavy folds of a velvet curtain; a partition between the public portion of the store and his private quarters.

He is a surprise. His short stature, entirely hairless form, and grey skin, pitted like rough stone, all identify him as Svirfneblin! The deep gnomes are rarely seen. At least, not on the surface. They generally keep to their cramped, intricately constructed underground cities. They do venture out into the tunnels of the Underdark to mine precious gems and metals. Always at risk from the natural perils of that dark world on one side, and the ravening Drow on the other. It is unusual to see a Svirfneblin in the world of light. Let alone one that is swathed in an amethyst robe trimmed with deep purple feathers. The gnome’s face and bald head furrow in annoyance as my companions and I stare at him in stunned silence.

“Well, what do you want?! Xoblob is warning you, Xoblob watches over this shop so do not attempt any thievery!” He cries.

His voice is high-pitched, both raspy and reedy. He warble-screeches at us querulously, making no attempt to modulate his volume to anything other than deafening. It should be jarring but, somehow, as soon I hear his voice, I cannot imagine the tiny shop keeper speaking in any other way.

I smile at him encouragingly, cheered by his boldness and by the knowledge that, here in the Deep, any Being can follow their favored path and find a safe haven. He does not return my smile, squinting at me with growing suspicion.

Eliana has clearly been trying to unravel the gnome’s odd warning.

“Who is Xoblob?” She asks gently.

“Xoblob, the Great Xoblob, there!” The gnome points to the looming figure of the Beholder, that I now see is stuffed. “Xoblob is Xoblob!”

“The Great Eye is Xoblob? And you are also Xoblob?” Eliana questions.

“Xoblob just told you that! Now what do you want?” Xoblob screeches.

“Greetings my friend.” Vaikner now steps forward with a smile. “It is good to see a compatriot who is also…fond of purple.”

Xoblob looks over at Vaikner’s robes approvingly. The two of them are quickly involved in conversation, peppered with references to the Underdark that mean little to me. Xoblob ignores Eliana, who wanders over to the shop’s large windows and stares out thoughtfully into the street. Despite my attempts to look unthreatening and friendly, the gnome continues to glance at me periodically: obvious distrust lining his face. Having finished my examination of the gems on offer and ascertained that, despite my initial foolish excitement, they are nothing more than slightly charmed trinkets, I decide to not further irritate the shop keeper and simply stand close to Vaikner.

I watch as the Drow buys a pair of lovely bead earrings, their surface a shimmering wash of colors that shifts with changes in the light. Just like tiny beetle wings, I think enviously. In appreciation for his purchase, Xoblob gifts Vaikner two bottles of a grass-green liquid. He claims not to know what the bottles contain – “Xoblob just found a lot of these down in the basement, they came with the building!” –  but Vaikner accepts the mystery fluid with brave politeness. Eliana returns from her post at the windows.

“Xoblob, you have a fine view of the streets here.” She says mildly. “Did you happen to see anything unusual outside last night? Perhaps after highmoon?”

“Unusual?!” Xoblob scream-rasps. “Not unusual! Just street cleaners.”

“Street cleaners?” Eliana questions.

“Yes. Xoblob sees street cleaners. They come and clean the streets at night.” Xoblob explains impatiently.

“Although these were quite a bit bigger than some of the other cleaners.” He continues in a thoughtful screech. “There were a couple of Bug Bears. Don’t often see those. And they cleaned everything up. Including two people.”

“There were Bug Bears? And they carried away two people?” Eliana repeats urgently.

“Xoblob just said that!” The gnome confirms in irritation.

“Which way did they take the Humans?” I ask.

Xoblob gives me a long dubious look before turning back to Eliana.

“East. East along Filet Lane, and then up Zarstow.” He finally replies.

Xoblob graciously accepts our profuse thanks and waves jerkily as we leave his shop.

“Well, at least we have confirmation that Floon was kidnapped. But we don’t know why and we don’t know who this friend of his may be.” Eliana muses.

“And we do not know what we are stepping into the middle of.” I add. “I did not know that there were Bug Bears in the Deep! Who would hire monsters such as those, do you think?”

“There are certainly many questions.” Vaikner says enthusiastically.

“Perhaps we should turn north now.” Eliana suggests. “Go back to the Yawning Portal, find Volo, and get some answers before we move further with this. I doubt that he told us all that he knows.”

I briefly debate sharing with Eliana that, if Volo were to start telling us all that he knows, we would not leave the Yawning Portal for many tendays to come, but decide that she may not wish to hear this information at this particular moment. She is striding along, chewing her lip and sweeping the street around her with a resentful gaze. I join her in quietly observing the crowds pressing in on us as we walk. Quite soon, it becomes obvious to me that we are being followed.

“Eliana!” I lean in towards her with a warning whisper. “There is a Human woman that has been trailing us for some time now. She looks harried and fearful. She may be plotting to bring harm to us. Or she may need assistance”

Eliana does not look back but her gait stiffens slightly.

“I will duck into this alleyway, up ahead, as we walk past it.” I tell her. “I will hide there until the woman has passed, and then I will come up behind her. Be prepared to help me handle her when I do!”

Using a generously sized canvas sign advertising The finest in woolen gaiters! to conceal my movement, I break stride and pirouette into the opening of the alleyway. I back into the dimness and watch. The woman that I noticed earlier, her angular face frowning and her eyes darting fearfully around, walks by my hiding spot within moments. I slip out of the shadows and follow her in turn. My hair twitches restlessly as I soundlessly close the gap between us. 

“Why are you following us?” I ask, when I am close enough to touch her.

She jumps, giving out a little surprised squawk, and then twirls towards me. I look ahead and see that Eliana has stopped and is now striding back to join us.

“I…I was not following you!” The woman gasps out, and then turns quickly from me.

She runs straight into Eliana, who, frowning, places a restraining hand on her shoulder.

“Hello.” Eliana says quietly. “We mean you no harm. But we would like to know why you were tracking us. Is there something that you need?”

Vaikner steps up to us too. The woman gasps again, looking desperately around her for an escape.

“Answer my question!” I demand sternly.

“You clearly want something from us. What is it?” Eliana shoots me a quelling look.

“I saw you at the Dragon.” The woman finally answers in a dry-mouthed whisper. “I heard you asking about those gentlemen.”

“What is your name?” Vaikner asks mildly.

“Um, The Chisel. You can call me The Chisel. Most folks do.” Another raspy whisper.

“What about the two gentlemen? What do you know about them?” Eliana questions.

I glower at Chisel and she blanches.

“I know that it was the Zhents that took them. Took them both!” She breathes out.

The Zhentarim. I feel cold anger awaken inside me. That power-hungry and remorselessly cruel cult, followers of dark gods, have spread their corruption far over the Realms in recent years. Through bribery, terror, and violence, their criminal web has grown. It now entangles regions far west of their original spawning place. I have even heard it said that the Zhentarim have come to the Deep. Here is fearfully whispered proof that it is so!

Chisel has calmed slightly. Realizing that none of us are going to strike her down, the fear in her eyes recedes and is replaced by the hungry glitter of avarice.

“I can tell you more, but it will cost you!” She blurts out.

“How is it that you know so much? Do you work for the Zhentarim?” I conceal my shocked horror behind my menacing tone.

“How much coin do you want?” Eliana enquires at that same moment.

“Three dragons will do.” Our informer inclines her head.

“We are in the Dock Ward!” Eliana scoffs at her. “None of us is foolish enough to carry that much gold on our persons!” 

I start a little guiltily and, hoping nobody noticed, reach for my waist with cautious stealth. I am reassured to find that my coin purse is still tightly attached to my belt. And still full.

“We can pay you one gold now. And the rest we will get to you later.” Eliana continues.

“Could we leave it for you at the Skewered Dragon?” Vaikner asks.

“Alright. That will do. You can give it to Hannah. At the Dragon.” Chisel looks around her nervously as she takes the gold coin.

I feel distaste and deep foreboding at any plan that includes trusting the rapacious Hannah with any more coin. With difficulty, I keep my peace.

Chisel beckons us closer and her voice is barely audible.

“There is a warehouse. At the end of Candle Lane. It’s the biggest one, right before the alley ends. That’s a Zhent spot. That’s where they took your fancy boys.” 

Before we can respond, Chisel takes one more anxious look around her and darts away. She blends quickly into the crowd.

“Well, that was most useful.” Vaikner nods in satisfaction.

“Yes. I am pleased with how our questioning went. We work together well.” I bow politely to Eliana.

“Hmmph,” says Eliana. “Let’s go take a look at this Candle Lane, shall we?”

After a little circuitous exploration of the smallest streets of the Ward, and some furtive use of my map, we find ourselves at the entrance to a most unprepossessing alley. Narrow as a weasel’s gullet at its entrance, it twists around chaotically so that what lies behind its next turn is almost immediately lost to view. 

We take a few cautious steps down the winding lane. The alley widens a little after its first turn but it is still lined on either side by tall featureless buildings. They look to be used for storage but it is difficult to see as very little sunlight filters down to the street’s surface. And all of the lanterns in front of the warehouses are broken and dark. The cheerful city sounds are immediately dampened here, and the air is close. Peering through the murk, I can see nearly to the end of the lane. There is indeed an extremely large warehouse there, looming over the buildings around it. This is the only warehouse that is still illuminated by a functioning continual-flame lantern. The lamp’s dull flicker banishes the shadows for a short distance, leaving a circle of dingy light right at the building’s front door. Where, should we attempt to enter, we would be as exposed as actors on a stage. Still, there is no one in sight. And no sound other than my nervous breathing.

“Strategically, this is not promising. A very likely spot for an ambush.” I whisper to my companions.

“You think so?” Eliana responds.

I believe that she is being unnecessarily sardonic because she too is intimidated by our surroundings. Vaikner continues to look around in silence, straining to see as far as he can into the shadows.

I consider the rows of dark windows, the series of rooftops, between us and our target. It would take a unit of trained Sky Wardens to safely and silently clear all the possible hiding places in the buildings that lie between us and the warehouse. With the proper aerial support, naturally. Simply crossing the lane and heading for the warehouse front door is a short path to being murdered. Knowing what I do of the foul Zhentarim, they would not give us an easy death.

To my shame, I share these cowardly thoughts with my companions. It brings me no comfort to find that they agree with me. 

“Maybe we should follow our plan to return to the Portal?” Eliana says uncertainly. “Find out if Volo can tell us anything else of value. And then check Floon’s home for anything useful.”

“I think that we should do that.” Vaikner agrees quickly. 

Knowing the tremendous risk we are taking just by pausing and having a conversation in this blighted place, I am still miserable as I nod to my companions and we turn back to the wider streets. My Grandmama’s swords swing gently at my sides as I walk, a humiliating reminder that she did not turn back from righteous battle. Not even against insurmountable, devastating odds. Not even when it cost her her life.

I walk in a daze of inner conflict – shame struggling against self-preservation – as we retrace our path to the Yawning Portal. A wasted trip because, as we look hastily around the tavern, we see that Volo is no longer there. 

“Well, since we have stopped anyway, how about a snack?” Eliana turns to us.

As this is the happiest that I have yet seen her, I do not demur. But I will have to check my reference books when I return to the Temple. I may have gotten matters mixed up: I thought it was Hin who ate twice as many meals every day as Humans. I must have it reversed.

Well supplied with meat pies and vegetable pasties, we venture back outside. As Floon’s residence is a fair distance north from here, up in Sea Ward, I suggest that we take a dray instead of walking. 

“It will not get us there much more speedily than our own feet. Not with the crowded streets at this time of day. But I have read that it is a pleasant way to see the Deep and it will give you time to eat in comfort, Eliana.” I explain.

My companions make no objection and soon we are flagging down one of the lumbering dray that transport the populace around the Wards of Waterdeep. An enormous, double-level carriage, adorned with richly polished wood decorations, it is to wheeled vehicles what a majestic, heavily-loaded galleon is to sea vessels. Moving with ponderous dignity amongst faster, more agile craft, and creaking in a musical way as it approaches. Several very large horses pull the dray along and passengers embark and disembark using small spiral staircases, wrought of iron, and affixed to the front, back, and sides of the vehicle.

I encourage Eliana and Vaikner to join me in the upper level seats. Here, I enjoy the mellow illumination cast by the westering sun and feel the wind singing as it joins playfully with my air. Eliana leans back in her chair, rustling pastry wrappings. Vaikner closes his eyes, apparently in Elven reverie.

Even though my companions are occupied with their own tasks, I cannot help occasionally disturbing them by pointing out some of the Deep’s better-known landmarks as we travel north. 

“There is Mount Waterdeep, of course. That is visible from anywhere in the Deep. And it is starting to cast its shadow on us now.” I tell my captive audience enthusiastically.

Eliana quickly looks around, confirming that no one else is close enough to hear my announcement. Satisfied that we are out of hearing of any other passengers, she continues to munch contentedly on her pie, periodically nodding politely in my direction. Vaikner remains unruffled: resting or quietly attentive, I cannot be sure.

“Naturally, you are aware that the plateau that forms the Mount and on which the city is built, was once a much taller peak.” I continue. “The ancient Elven city that was built upon it was abandoned during the Retreat, thousands of years ago. The Dwarven Halls that lay beneath it continued to expand for centuries until the Dwarves were eventually driven out by foul things from the Underdark.

“But the peaceful deep water beyond, a rare natural harbor on the stormy Sword Coast, has always drawn beings, good and bad, to settle on Mount Waterdeep. Under many names and over many centuries, communities have flourished here. I believe that is part of why the Deep is such a thriving and interesting city now. So many different races and deities mix together in the Deep!

“Look! There you can see Lathander’s Tower, the Human Sun God’s church, glittering in the West! Right next to Selûne’s ivory-topped cathedral! She is the Human Moon deity, of course. And, if you lean this way, you may spot just the top of the Palace of the Open Lord at the foot of the mountain! And the griffon aeries of the City Guard are higher up on the slopes. Griffons are trained as part of the Deep’s aerial defenses. Look, look! You can see some in flight now!”

Breathless, I point upwards at the tiny dark specks circling the azure space above us. I sigh, half in admiration, half in envy, at the sight. Even more awe-inspiring is the massive watchful statue, The Griffon, on the very top of Mount Waterdeep. Of all of the unique sights in the Deep, I have perhaps been most intrigued to catch a glimpse of the Walking Statues.

It started with one gigantic stone sentry, placed on the slopes of Mount Waterdeep and looking west to keep watch over the steely waves. Its original form is forgotten as, in the Year of the Tankard, Khelben Arunsun, arch-mage and Blackstaff of Waterdeep, sent the colossus to battle sea-monsters that were attacking the Deep. After defeating these fish-like humanoids, the statue was reshaped into the form of one of the invaders: the Sahuagin. It was set in a kneeling posture, facing into the city. And re-named The Sahuagin Humbled.

Khelben Blackstaff prepared seven other statues to defend the Deep at need. They were hidden, waiting, in the Ethereal Plane. During the devastating arcane chaos of the Spellplague, following the assassination of Mystra, Goddess of Magic, these remaining colossi materialized in Waterdeep. They caused great fear and destruction until they finally froze into immobility. 

Time and familiarity have leached the giant statues of their terror. One, The Swordmaiden, was partially destroyed as her form was vengefully quarried for building materials. The Deep was rebuilt around some of the other Statues. And, in some cases, up into them; turning the enormous structures into additional living space for the ever-growing city. Others remain as well-loved landmarks; a way to quickly direct oneself to one’s location within the sprawling Deep.

No matter their fate now, I have always been spellbound by the melancholy history of these ancient stone warriors. Doomed to destroy the city they had been created and waited so long to protect. Now I am seeing them for myself!

We leave the dray in the North Ward. This part of the Deep is much quieter and clearly much more prosperous than the Dock and Trade Wards that we left behind. There are no rowdy food vendors in the wide, clean streets. Instead, small trees grow in little metal cages along the pavement. Surrounded by even smaller shrubs and flowers, they seem to strain hopefully towards their much taller relatives: stately old trees that grace the grounds of the manors lining the streets and that bring pleasant shade to the homes of this ward. The houses are all of stone; large and grim. The few people that are out walking the streets are either simply-garbed serving people, hurrying to get home, or fashionably dressed individuals that are strolling at their leisure through the gentle twilight.

Before long, the neighborhood changes. Bordering the north-western shoreline, the homes are less obviously opulent and more effortlessly elegant. There is cream-colored stone and red tile roofs used in construction here. There are more mosaic-paved courtyards with tinkling fountains, and fewer brooding ancient trees. The flags hanging at street corners change from the green and orange insignia of the North Ward, with its gracious white dove, to the blue and gold flag of the Sea Ward, with its sea lion crest.

Reaching Phastal’s Street, we can see Stormstar Towers from a little distance away. A rambling, many gabled mansion, it is the only building here that has a sign bearing its name outside. Unlike many of the homes in North Ward, each sumptuous and smug in its walled garden of solitary splendor, Stormstar Towers has been divided up into smaller dwellings and is not fenced off from the road. Lights twinkle in many of the windows and someone is playing a sweet tune on a flute nearby. It is a cheerful place.

We quietly go up the marble steps that lead to the building’s entryway. There are narrow panes of clear blue glass on either side of the heavy wooden door. Eliana peeks through these for a short moment while Vaikner and I watch the street outside.

“There seems to be a large entry court beyond, and then stairs beyond that. There is a woman, a care-taker I suppose, seated behind a counter near the stairs. She is asleep.” Eliana whispers. 

“I will go in quietly and look about a little. Perhaps I can find some mail with Floon’s name on it? Something that will tell us where in this building he lives. And that may help us actually get into his apartment.” She continues quietly. 

“Alright.” I nod. “I will stay out here and keep watch.”

“I will also watch.” Vaikner agrees. “And I will send my Familiar up into the air to scout around. Perhaps he may see something useful.”

I watch with interest as the Drow mutters briefly and holds up his hand. There is a quiet hooting noise and the flutter of feathers. And then a beautiful brown owl lands on the wizard’s outstretched arm. I smile with pleasure.

“He is so handsome!” I coo.

“His name is Fukurou. He asks that I greet you all courteously.” Vaikner says.

“And so charming!” I add, smiling again.

The owl preens for a moment, and then spins off into the darkening sky like a wind-blown kite. 

Eliana quietly steps inside Stormstar Towers. I divide my attention between observing the street and listening intently for any sounds of trouble within. Moments pass with painful slowness.

“She has been gone for some time. Do you think that we should check on her?” I ask uneasily.

“It has only been a minute.” Vaikner replies steadily. 

More interminable time oozes past. 

“Hmm, I think I may have heard something. I will go inside and confirm that our comrade is unharmed. And does not require my assistance.” I state. 

Vaikner shrugs.

“Fukurou has seen nothing of interest.” He says, joining me at the door.

I push at the heavy portal. It does not move. I push harder.

“I think that it is stuck.” I explain unnecessarily.

Vaikner tentatively turns the latch as I slam my shoulder into the stubborn door. It flies open with a clatter and we stumble into the lobby beyond. I am relieved to see that Eliana is safe. She is merely frozen awkwardly mid-movement. She is behind the care-taker’s counter, bent over as she inspects a large record book. The care-taker is still in her chair nearby. But she is no longer asleep.

“Whaaa?” She splutters and jumps to her feet. “Who are you? What are you doing here? You bunch of miscreants, I will call the Watch!”

“Oh, there is no need for that! No need!” Eliana trills. “I did not want to disturb your rest. So I was just peeking in here, just to see if I could find a friend of mine. He invited us over, you see, but I forgot his apartment number. Teehee.”

I stare at my companion, concerned by her frivolous tone. She does not seem herself at all. Worried, I swiftly move to the counter. Vaikner joins me.

“What friend would this be?” The woman asks suspiciously, snapping her book closed and only narrowly avoiding capturing Eliana’s fingers within the heavy tome.

“Why, Floon, dear Floon!” Eliana answers quickly.

The woman’s eyes are slits of unfriendly distrust. 

“I have received no instructions from any of our residents that such as yourselves are to be welcomed here. Especially alone, when your supposed host is not home.” She barks out.

“Floon has not been home, then?” Eliana asks, reverting back to her rational self.

“I have nothing to say to you. Now leave here before I involve the Watch!” The care-taker snaps.

With a loud sigh, Eliana steps back around to our side of the counter. The glare she bestows upon me suggests that she is deeply unhappy. I briefly think about the best way that I can be of help. The direct approach seems most likely to be effective.

“Er, Mistress Care-taker?” I venture. “May I speak to you?”

“My name is Kareen Delmar.” Kareen says “And I want you and yours out of here!”

“I ask only for a moment of your time.” I bow to her respectfully. “I would like to tell you why my friends and I are here. And to beg for your help.”

Her face is no less austere but she does not immediately repeat her demand that we leave. Encouraged, I continue.

“We are not actually friends of Floon. We have never met him. But we are trying to help a friend of his. A dear friend. Practically a family member. His name is Volo. The author, Volothamp Geddarm. You may have heard of him.” My voice grows hushed and I pause to let my words sink in.

Her expression is unchanged and she crosses her arms as the last of her patience visibly trickles away.

“Well anyway,” I continue hurriedly. “Volo asked that we search for his friend. Floon is missing! We have witness accounts suggesting that he, along with a friend of his, was taken against his will from a tavern in the Dock Ward. We are urgently attempting to find him before he comes to harm.

“We hope to gain some clues as to his whereabouts by inspecting his apartment. We have no nefarious intent. Time is now of the essence and I acknowledge that we may have overstepped the bounds of propriety. And legality. Just a little. But that was only in our eagerness to find our way into Floon’s home and look for anything that may assist us in our search for him! Please, please help us!” I finish, looking earnestly at Kareen.

As I speak, I see dismay flicker over her face. She still stares at us with suspicion but now concern is mixed in with the distrust.

“Master Floon was kidnapped, you say?” She asks. “Oh dear, oh dear! I do not want to believe this. But, as you say, he has not been home. I have not seen him here since yesterday morning. This is very distressing news!”

“Perhaps you would allow us to see Floon’s dwelling?” Eliana breaks in gently. “There may be some information there as to where he was going, who he was seeing…We really do need your help.

“I am sorry that I tried to read your paperwork earlier. That was rude. My name is Eliana, by the way. And this is Elodie, and Vaikner.” 

We all nod politely to Kareen Delmar.

“Hmmph.” She sniffs. “I do want to help. But, you understand, it is a lot to ask. To allow a pack of strangers into one of our resident’s apartments? But you say that Master Floon was spirited away by some miscreants? I will accompany you. Yes! That is what I will do. You may come upstairs and have a quick look. I will be watching you closely!”

Still muttering anxiously and casting narrow-eyed looks at us over her shoulder, Kareen reluctantly leads us upstairs. She untangles a heavy bunch of keys from the folds of her voluminous skirt and, stopping at a door just off the second floor landing, she laboriously picks through the ring until she finds the right key. Clicking open the lock, she pushes the door inwards and takes a brief look inside.

“All seems as it should from here.” She says, very subdued. “But I fear what may be found within. Here, you go inside and take your look. Be quick!”

Thanking her effusively, Eliana, Vaikner, and I enter Floon’s apartment. It is a spacious series of rooms, well-appointed and in fairly good order. The sweet ghost of a floral scent perfumes the air with orange-blossom and violet.  The jewel-like flashes of color that Kareen’s lantern light coaxes from the carpet, curtains, and throw pillows suggest a vibrant, highly individual decorating style. 

Eliana takes the lantern from the care-taker and we move further into the living room. Finding nothing of immediate interest, we pass on into a sleeping chamber, which leads into a very large clothes storage room as well as an equally luxuriant bathing chamber. I quickly get lost in the wardrobe room. In a delighted daze, surrounded by opulent fabrics, a bewildering variety of styles, and lush embroidery, I reach the fairly obvious conclusion that Floon really appreciates gorgeous clothing. I hear Eliana call from the bed chamber. 

I hurry back towards her. Vaikner is already in the room, perusing the books on Floon’s small bookshelf with interest. Eliana has stopped by a little table, just adjacent to Floon’s bed. There is a locket here, holding a painted miniature of a very handsome young man. His hair streams down in waves of golden-red, his nose is strong and aquiline, and his eyes are a deep grey. Eliana opens the locket and points out the inscription inside:

“Brightswords, Year of the Star Walker’s Return.” She reads quietly. “That was 1490.”

“He is very beautiful. And he looks happy.” I gaze at the picture and wonder what was special to Floon about that particular Brightswords festival. 

“Look at this!” Vaikner calls excitedly.

He has pushed aside a wall-hanging, a pretty tapestry depicting two unicorns at play, and revealed a sturdy little door in the wall. Gleaming metallically, a small clock-work device is set into its center.

“A safe!” Eliana hurries over. “Let’s see if we can open that.”

She pauses in thought for a short moment.

“Does anyone know Floon’s birth date?” She asks.

Vaikner and I shake our heads.

“Well, I suppose we could try this other date first…” she muses. “Let’s see, the autumn feast would fall on the twenty-first of Eleint, wouldn’t it? The one that the locket references?”

Vaikner shakes his head again, bemused.

“Indeed, yes!” I beam at Eliana helpfully. “Brightswords is a harvest celebration that Waterdhavians are known to observe on the twenty-first day of the ninth month. The first day of fall.” 

Eliana twists the mechanism first in one direction and then in another. It does not open.

“Perhaps Kareen will know Floon’s birth date.” Eliana says hopefully.

“Wait one moment!” I cry out excitedly. “Look at this bookshelf! Floon has all of Volo’s works, his entire collected works right here.”

“I know that you enjoy Volo’s writing, Elodie,” Eliana states with forced politeness. “But that is not helping us with the safe.”

“No, no! Look how the shelf is arranged, all the books in order of the year they were published.” I rifle through the tomes. “And, yes, each one is signed to Floon, on the same date every time! I believe that Volo gifted Floon one of his books every year. Perhaps as a birthday gift? Maybe this day here, the one that is referenced in each of the inscriptions, is Floon’s birth date!”

Eliana and Vaikner examine the autographed collection with interest.

“It certainly seems plausible that these were gifts to mark the day of his birth.” Vaikner nods. “The inscriptions are most affectionate.”

“It definitely seems like something Volo would do.” Eliana says sourly. “Hand out copies of his book as gifts…”

She pivots back to the safe and turns and twists the mechanical wheel.

There is a little hollow clicking noise and the door smoothly swings open.

Vaikner and I applaud in sincere admiration.

“Very clever!” Vaikner calls.

“Not really.” Eliana replies, grinning. “We are just lucky that Floon does not appear to be a very devious gentleman.”

We crowd in around the small lockbox mounted within the wall. Inside are several neat piles of coin. Mostly dragons but also a lot of silver coin. There is also a packet of papers. It is a deed to a property in the Deep. I do not recognize the family name on the deed.

“Well, I am not sure that we have found out anything of value.” Eliana sighs.

“We know that, whenever we find Floon, he will probably be wearing something lovely.” I murmur, smiling.

“Let us tell the landlady that we have opened this safe. She should be told that it is here and see that we have stolen nothing from Floon.” Vaikner advises.

We troop back out to the hallway and find Kareen waiting impatiently. Eliana shows her the safe and asks that she continues to keep Floon’s apartment locked and waiting for his return.

“This all looks as it did before.” Kareen confirms. “That property there, on that paper, that is his mother’s old house. His parents have both passed and he prefers to stay here while he decides what to do with the family manor. 

“Well, you did not disturb anything. But did you learn what you needed? Will you be able to find Master Floon?”

“We will do all that we can.” Eliana assures her.

“We certainly will find him.” I state at the same moment.

Back outside in the street, Fukurou rejoins Vaikner in a flurry of tawny feathers. The wizard and his Familiar communicate in some manner that is not discernible to me. Vaikner looks at the owl with interest for a moment and then turns to us.

“I believe that I will walk north for a while. There is a building a short distance from here that I wish to have a closer look at.” He says.

“Actually, I intended to find the Shrines of Nature while I was in this part of the Deep. That is the temple to Mielikki in this city. She is my Goddess and I would like to visit her shrine.” Eliana responds.

Mielikki is the Human Goddess of Nature, deity of the wild woods and forest creatures. Now I understand a little more about that feeling of inner quiet that Eliana carries with her. And I comprehend more of her distaste and unease when faced with the crowds and bustle of the Deep. I wonder what a follower of Mielikki is doing in one of the largest cities in Faerun.

“I will walk with you, Eliana.” I volunteer pleasantly. “When Vaikner has completed his errand he can join us. Perhaps at the southern edge of this Ward. On Julthoon Street. We can decide what do to after that. Once we are all together again.”

Vaikner gives us a brief nod and hurries off, his owl once again swooping upwards to scout the streets from the air.

Eliana and I walk briskly westwards. It is fully dark and the peaceful streets are illuminated by enspelled lanterns glowing silver. The air is fresh and the tang of salt on the breeze is now joined by a loamy, green smell. I can hear sleepy bird calls and the songs of frogs.

“Here it is.” Eliana announces, slowing down. “All down the length of this street, marked by this fence, those are the grounds of the Shrines of Nature. Let us find the gate.”

We walk a little further along the street. Peering between the palisades of the decorative iron fence, I see thick shrubs, gnarled trees, and patches of grassy meadow. There is no sign of light or habitation in the leafy gloom.

Eliana stops in front of a tall gate. The latch does not turn under her hand.

“I suppose they lock up after dark.” She mumbles.

“Stop what you are doing! Explain your purpose here!” A cold voice sounds from behind us and we both start a little.

Turning quickly I see a tall Human man. He stands close behind us, eyeing us with a scowl. He is young and neatly dressed. As we turn to stare at him, he pulls on a steel chain around his neck and produces a City Watch badge from under his shirt. He holds the badge out towards us, scowl deepening.

An officer of the Watch on patrol without his uniform? This is a strange sight and makes me a little uneasy. Still, I smile through my uncertainty, keenly interested to meet one of the Deep’s law officers. 

“Good Evening, Officer.” Eliana greets him politely. “We are visitors to the Deep. I am a follower of Mielikki and have come to say prayers at my Lady’s Temple.”

“The Shrines are closed after dark.” The officer barks out. “You will have to come back during the daylight hours.”

“Well, I would like to try to speak to one of the Brothers or Sisters at the Shrine now. I am sure that they will be happy to welcome me, no matter the time. And I seek guidance.” Eliana continues, more firmly.

“They have locked up for the night.” The officer repeats stubbornly. “What is your business here? What is so urgent?”

“I seek counsel and shelter at my Temple.” Eliana insists.

She and the officer regard each other coldly. It is clearly time to turn the conversation to matters of law and justice; concerns that the Watchman will understand and surely wish to assist us with.

“We are in the Sea Ward to seek a missing person.” I speak up. “My companion and I have been tasked with finding Floon, a young gentleman who was taken against his will while out with friends at the Skewered Dragon tavern. I am sure that you will be both interested and alarmed to hear this.”

“The Dock Ward, eh?” He sneers.

“Floon resides here, at Stormstar Towers.” I answer, confused by his unfriendly response. “And he may be in danger. We are here looking for any information that may help us to find him. It is an urgent matter but I am sure that we can take a few moments to share all of the details with you. So that you may join in the search.”

“If you wish to report a disappearance, curse, or unfortunate vaporization of a sentient creature, you should head to the Watch House nearest to where the event occurred.” The officer drones out. “Now I will ask you to leave this Ward.”

I feel my hair bristle in disbelief, shocked by this callous attitude to Floon’s safety. Eliana meanwhile, raises her voice and calls out urgently. Her cry somehow combines a melodious trill with a soothing murmuring. Like leaves rustling in the wind above a quick-moving stream. I do not understand this language but I find it very pleasing to listen to.

“Here, what are you doing?” The angry officer questions. “Stop doing that thing!”

Eliana ignores him, continuing her call. I see a flickering motion nearby, just beyond the fence marking the boundary of the temple: a rustling disturbance in the branches of a hazelnut tree. A squirrel pushes its russet head out from among the leaves, looks at Eliana, and then flits away down the branch and off into the dark grounds. There is silence.

But not for long. Within moments, which are awkwardly occupied by continued mutual glowering between Eliana and the officer, the bobbing glow of a lantern carried low to the ground can be seen among the trees. An elderly Hin male comes up to the gate, smiling in calm welcome.

“Hello there. Tatheen, isn’t it?” He greets the officer and then turns a curious look towards Eliana and myself. “What do you and your companions need this fine evening?”

“It’s Officer Hafthome.” Tatheen grits his teeth. “I have been following these two here, unnoticed, for some time. They were acting suspicious and have no plausible explanation for being in this Ward.

“I am sorry that you have been disturbed. This one here, she insisted on yelling out.” He gestures at Eliana in irritation.

“We did nothing suspicious. We were simply walking down the street!” I protest, curls twitching furiously. “And I have just explained to you our reason for coming here! We seek to save an innocent life. Floon has been kidnapped and we are searching for him!”

The Hin looks at me with interest.

“That sounds like a noble endeavor.” He smiles kindly. “I am Brother Helmsing.”

Brother Helmsing now turns to Eliana and they converse rapidly in the same strange tongue that she used to call the Hin to us earlier. 

I glare at Officer Hafthome. He glares at all of us.

“Sister Eliana is a member of my temple.” Brother Helmsing eventually turns to the Watchman. “She is welcome. And, on my invitation, will soon be joining our other devotee to stay in the Shrines during her time here in the Deep.” 

“Thank you Brother Helmsing.” Eliana bows her head to the Hin with respectful relief. “I will retrieve my luggage from the Court of the White Bull and return here.” 

Tatheen snorts in disdain.

“You will return during daylight hours. For now, both you and your wild-haired friend will leave the Sea Ward. I will escort you personally.” He gives a mock bow.

Wild-haired friend? I am speechless with outrage. I manage only a polite nod to Brother Helmsing and then it is all I can do to walk straight. As I grimly focus on not calling down my Lady’s wrathful lightning to blast the insolent and unprofessional Tatheen. 

The Watchman insists on following close behind us all along Singing Dolphin Way until we reach the northern boundary of Julthoon Street. There, with one last suspicious scowl, he waves for us to leave his Ward. Still seething, I raise my chin haughtily and join Eliana on the southern side of the road.

Checking carefully that this time we are truly alone, Eliana and I see Vaikner’s running form headed in our direction. He is breathless, waving energetically as he catches up to us. He does not explain where he has been or what he has been doing. But this may be because we immediately launch into an aggrieved account of our encounter with Watch Officer Hafthome. 

Vaikner nods sympathetically and then gently redirects our conversation back to the subject of Floon and his rescue. 

“I do not see that Floon’s residence had anything to do with his kidnapping. I think that we have exhausted all options for information in the north at present.” He says calmly.

“Yes. I think we are back to making a decision about that warehouse.” Eliana sighs gloomily. 

“I agree.” I say shortly.

My shame and regret at our earlier inaction are now compounded by frustration with how poorly Eliana and I were treated by the very person who should have been eager to help us.

“We need to go back to Candle Lane now, tonight. It is the only thing left for us to do!” I continue earnestly. “I am going back, in any case. And I will go alone if I must”

“No need.” Eliana sighs, looking at Vaikner for confirmation. “We will go too.”

I beam at my new companions in relief. I will need all the help I can muster to rescue Floon from Candle Lane. I am troubled by the City Watch’s lack of perceptiveness and integrity but I set my disappointment aside now. Desperate to make right the previous wrong of our earlier choice to delay, I am ready to storm the warehouse of the Zhentarim.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope that you enjoyed this chronicle of the beginning of our adventuring party’s first (side) quest. Please head over to the images section to check out some of the art that I found inspiring for the Deep’s streets and their denizens, as well as Brother Helmsing, the Chisel, and, of course, the fabulous Xoblob (coming soon).

I have several songs that play along in my mind for this chapter:

For Adventurers feeling the call of their Purpose or Deity: 

Lady in Black, Uriah Heep

For Elodie, as she walks away from Candle Lane thinking about her grandmother: 

To the Edge of the Earth, Michael Nyman

For Eliana and her complicated relationship with Waterdeep:

Running, Retrofile

For Vaikner and his complicated relationship with the world above:

I wear my Sunglasses at Night, Corey Hart

For Xoblob:

Busy Earnin’, Jungle

Purple Rain, Prince

Bitch Better have my Money, Rihanna

Please also visit my playlist on Spotify. I will be populating this with all of our campaign tunes as we adventure onwards: