24 Mirtul, Year of Three Ships Sailing (1492 D.R.), close to eleven bells after highsun.
“Well, whatever is troubling this Uza person,” Eliana states glumly. “I do not want to be dealing with it in this dress.”
“No.” I agree earnestly. “As Waterdeep is warded against dragons, it seems very unlikely that we will be facing this worst of threats. But still, I would feel happier if I had my Quen and Vess.”
Vaikner merely tugs at the extraneous ruffles on his outfit and grimaces.
As we are all harmoniously of one mind on the subject of our apparel, we waste no time in hailing a carriage and returning north to the Shrines of Nature. This time, we accompany Eliana onto the grounds of her temple. There are no lights here other than that of the stars and moon. Trees whisper sleepily in the peaceful dark and frogs croak as we pass by a gently flowing little stream. Our path opens onto a large clearing. It is more like a small farm than a garden – there are several snug cottages here, tilled fields, and well-tended beds alive with spring vegetables. I smell rich, loamy soil. And goats.
Eliana directs us to one of the little huts off to the side of the clearing. A rhythmic rasping-gurgling noise wafts out of its open windows.
“Sister is sleeping.” Eliana smiles.
I nod wisely. Vaikner looks nonplussed.
“We will be very quiet.” I assure her. “We will not disturb her snoring. I mean, her slumber.”
Creeping within, we each take our bundled-up gear from Eliana. I surreptitiously sniff at my coat, pleased to find that it has not taken on the aroma of mice that seems to infuse everything else in the small room. Vaikner slips outside to change, leaving Eliana and I to strip off our elegant gowns and re-emerge dressed in our common garments once more. We are as stealthy as it is possible to be while negotiating finicky straps, high heels, and many confounding ties and laces. Sister must be an alert sleeper however, because, partway through our transformation from formal to everyday wear, her steady snoring abruptly stops. Glancing over I see a very large form shift irritably under a sail-like blanket. There is a grunt-growl and then the shape turns over and grows quiet once more. Hand held to my mouth to muffle my helpless and untimely giggles, I hurry outside to finish settling Quen and Vess into their proper place around my waist. Eliana joins me soon afterward, shaking her head at me in amusement. Vaikner, looking most relieved to be back in his regular robes, waits for us in the night-shadow of a large tree close to the cottage.
During the first half of our return journey south to the Trades Ward, all I focus on is the sweet relief of my hair swishing and roiling as it celebrates freedom restored. The hated hair-net is far behind me, left with the rest of our elegant outfits in the dubious care of Sister’s mice. Awaiting the daytime when we can reasonably return our borrowed finery to its original owners.
As the carriage rattles on, however, I begin to feel the stirring of strange dread. Perhaps it is the after-effects of Opera. Our visit to Eliana’s temple was a lovely interlude of nature’s peace and fresh air. But the oppressive performance of The Fall of Tiamat has left me weary and despondent beyond what a short time at the Shrines of Nature can cure. Perhaps the lingering sadness caused by the Opera’s inexplicable celebration of such destructive beings as Dragons and Giants has affected me more deeply than I expected. Perhaps this is why I suddenly begin to feel afraid.
“My friends,” I begin cautiously. “I find myself oddly worried about our upcoming task. I know that we are under the protection of the Dragonward in this city. And thus what Uza ran from in her shop cannot actually be a Dragon. But yet, I feel disquieted.”
Eliana and Vaikner regard me with patience.
“I just mean…” I break off, still uncertain what is safe to share with these new companions. “I have devoted much time to researching Dragonkind. And they are formidable enemies. Intelligent and powerfully magical. And vicious. They would not hesitate to take advantage of the tiniest failure in the vigilance of those who guard the Deep.
“This worries me because…well, when I spoke to Volo yesterday, we discussed my interest in various historical artifacts kept in the Open Lord’s collection in the Palace. Volo informed me that, after Lord Neverember’s departure, many of the most invaluable treasures went missing. Including Ahghairon’s magical robe and staff. The very staff that was originally used to create the Dragonward! If someone was plotting to undermine the Deep’s historic safeguard against foul Dragons, could the staff that brought it into existence somehow be turned to its destruction?”
I pause, out of breath.
“I am not sure that an arcane treasure that went missing several years ago has anything to do with the fright taken by an elderly woman.” Eliana says slowly. “I mean, there have been no reports of actual dragons attacking Waterdeep, have there?”
“No.” I concede. “And I do not know if there is any connection between these events. I just know that I feel uneasy about what we may be walking into. Be vigilant!”
“That is good advice for any occasion.” Vaikner says kindly. “No matter what we may or may not be expecting to find in this curiosity shop.”
Only slightly reassured, I continue to fret silently for the remainder of our carriage ride. Fortunately, it does not take long to reach our destination. The hansom cab leaves us at the door of Felzoun’s Folly and, intrigued to meet another member of Mirt’s curious Society of Meddlers, it grows easier for me to return my focus to the present moment. Eliana leads us into the tavern. Vaikner follows and, after scanning the street behind us for anything suspicious, I join my friends.
Felzoun’s Folly is a low-ceilinged, dimly-lit pub. The air is fragrant and slightly hazy with sweet-smelling smoke. The aroma is both slightly medicinal and a little musky. I look around for the source of the gentle drifts of scent and discover that it is being exuded by a group of musicians on a low stage at one end of the room. They are all Human, of assorted age and size and sobriety level. Each of them smokes an oddly perfumed pipe, languidly strumming their instruments as they puff. Their music is pleasant and unobtrusive and, after smiling at them briefly in appreciation, I turn my attention to the bar.
In contrast to the very relaxed performers, the Dwarven bar-keep is all brisk bustle. He twirls about efficiently as he pours and mixes drinks and collects coin. Bearded face turning towards us as we approach, he greets us jovially.
“Good evening to you too.” Eliana replies politely. “We are looking for Uza Solizeph. Could you point us to her, if she is here?”
The bartender’s cheery smile sours into distaste.
“Aye. That’s her over there.” He nods his head irritably towards the far end of the counter.
A garrulous gathering of Humans and Halflings moves away from the bar at that moment, revealing a forlorn shape hunched on a stool at the side of the counter furthest from the tavern door. I stare openly at Uza Solizeph as we walk towards her. I know that she will not notice my curious assessment. She is sitting – slumping actually – over a very large tankard redolent of strong ale. And she is, quite literally, crying into her drink. A Human woman of medium height and comfortably round build, Uza is wearing a dark green gown prettily embroidered with a pattern of leaves and flowers in lighter green. Her belt is a blue sash. A golden necklace glitters at her neck, nearly hidden by the fall of her silvery white hair. The hands trembling against her wooden cup are lined and spotted with age. It is difficult to tell her years from her face; flushed, puffy, and tear-stained, her features are more blurry than I imagine they usually appear. I can see a strong chin that suggests stubbornness. And I am able to make out elegantly arching brow lines.
Uza weeps quietly, ignoring our approach. My hair tightens in dismay. It is a heart-rending sight: this elderly woman crying alone while all those around her act as if she were invisible.
“Hello.” I murmur hesitantly.
“Good evening. I am Vaikner Bootsman. You are so troubled! But do not worry, we are here to help.” Vaikner adds feelingly.
Uza lifts her head slowly, staring at each of us.
“Help?” She asks, her voice a wavering croak.
“Yes.” Eliana nods briskly. “I am Elie and this is Elodie. Vai already introduced himself. And you are Uza, yes? Mirt sent us to you. Apparently you are having, er, some kind of trouble at your shop? We are here to look into that for you.”
Fresh tears flow down Uza’s cheeks. But now she is smiling.
“Mirt?! Oh that dear, dear man!” She gasps. “Oh, thank all the kind gods! You will save Pierogi? And my shop?”
“What is a Pierogi?” I reach out gingerly and lay my hand over Uza’s anxiously intertwined fingers.
I pat her in gentle reassurance. Eliana shoots me a meaningful look and gestures, almost imperceptibly, towards Uza’s tankard. Taking the older woman’s cold hands in one of mine, I lift them off the mug and move the drink steadily out of Uza’s reach. She pays no attention to my surreptitious maneuvering. Her eyes wide and bleary, she sways a little in her seat.
“Pierogi is my cat. Lord Piergeron, actually. But I just call him Pierogi. I had to leave him behind. The poor little thing! When that monster broke into my shop, I had to run and leave my Pierogi behind!” She wails.
“What exactly is in your shop?” Eliana asks.
“And he is blind! He won’t know what to do! But I cannot go back for him. Not with that dragon there! Please, oh please won’t you help him?” Uza is crying again.
Vaikner and I exchange helplessly pained glances.
“Of course we will help you.” He soothes. “This is what your friend Mirt asked us to do.”
“Did you see a dragon?” I blurt out.
“Yes! Yes! A great slithering thing with scales. Lumbering all about my beautiful shop. Breaking things! My poor Pierogi…” Uza crumples into a little sobbing pile.
Eliana, who I am learning possesses an impressive repertoire of glances loaded with a variety of meanings, now shrugs and inclines her head for Vaikner and I to follow her. She leads us back to the bartender.
“So, one of your customers says that her shop has been infested by some kind of destructive creature. Do you know anything about Uza and her troubles?” Eliana asks the busy Dwarf.
“And how long has she been crying like that?” Vaikner adds.
“Yes! She is an Elder…she is elderly!” I stumble over my accusation. “How can this be? That no one has helped her?”
“Helped her with what?” The Dwarf snorts defensively. “She’s always coming in here with some tall tale. This time it’s a dragon, last time it was a naked ghost man running through her store.”
“I’m sorry, what now?” Eliana stares at him.
“She’s always convinced someone is after her. And she’s a sloppy drunk. If you want to help, then I’d thank you not to encourage her to make another scene.” The barkeep scowls.
I return his scowl, my hair swishing angrily. Eliana shakes her head at me but her eyes are narrowed, glinting in emerald hostility, as she turns back to the Dwarf.
“Here is coin.” She says coolly. “I want you to stop pouring Uza drinks and make her a nice big pot of hot tea instead. Understood? Keep her safe and calm here until we return. We will check on her shop and be back here to let her know that all is well. And then she’ll be off your hands, right?”
“Works for me.” The barkeep says gruffly, pocketing silver.
We return to Uza’s side. She has stopped weeping but is muttering to herself fretfully.
“Uza, is there also a ghost in your shop?” Eliana asks gently.
“A ghost? Oh, certainly! I get many visitors. Oh, but it is not safe now! A monster lurks, a dragon!” Uza’s voice grows louder as she becomes more upset.
The bartender glares.
“We are going to your shop now, Uza.” I hurry to comfort her. “We will get rid of any dangers there. And make sure that Pierogi is safe and well. And then we will return here for you.”
“Yes. Where exactly is your shop?” Vaikner smiles at her.
Uza, slurring her words only slightly, expresses fervent gratitude for our willingness to help her. She gives us directions to her store – thankfully a simple and straight path for her to describe and for us to follow. Then she presses a small key into my hand.
“This is to the front door. It is locked. I didn’t want anyone wandering in off the street and coming upon that monster unawares!” She mutters.
“Alright Uza.” Eliana lays a kind hand on her shoulder. “We will be back soon. In the meanwhile, I want you to have some tea and collect yourself.”
“Oh, tea sounds very good. And yes, I already feel so much better! Thank you for what you are doing!” Uza’s smile, even in her weary, anxious face, is very sweet.
Leaving the mellow music and drowsily swirling smoke of Felzoun’s Folly behind us, we have no difficulty finding “Curiosity & Satisfaction”. Stepping cautiously inside, we find ourselves in a pleasantly cluttered little shop. There are shelves on every wall but one, and tables and display cabinets fill the available open floor space. Every flat surface holds merchandise of many kinds. Uza’s store is suitably named: she offers a bewildering and intriguing variety of ornaments, trinkets, clothing, and toys. There is a narrow wooden staircase on one wall and this leads to a loft-like area that is constructed so that it juts part-way out over the shop floor. The faint but recognizable aroma of cat wafts down from what I suspect are Uza’s living quarters.
Vaikner murmurs quietly, his staff glows green for a moment, and then the familiar glowing orbs of light float into the shop. Eliana gives him a quick nod of thanks and moves further inside, looking all about her carefully.
Next to me, Vaikner stirs uneasily.
“Er. Elodie?” He whispers. “I recall that you were able to employ your Lady’s power to determine that there was unclean energy at Trollskull Manor. Are you able to detect enchantment also? Simply the presence of the Art, not specifically good or evil intent?”
“Aerdrie Faenya permits me this gift, yes.” I reply.
“I find that my spell-casting feels strange here.” Vaikner continues anxiously. “Something is different. Will you use your gift and tell me if it too seems unusual?”
I nod and close my eyes in brief prayer. Gathering focus and reaching out with air imbued with my Lady’s greater insight, I am suddenly surrounded by a confusing maelstrom of fragrances. Laughing in delight, I allow the scents to spin around and past me. Almost every item on Uza’s shelves is charmed or enspelled in some small way. I have not had much practice using this particular gift of Aerdrie Faenya – it is rather new to me. And I have never employed it in an enclosed space filled with so many magical trinkets! It is like listening to a chorus of pretty voices. All in harmony, none overwhelming the other, but altogether distracting. I turn to my companions excitedly. The dizzying smells of Uza’s shop make it difficult to concentrate but, with growing curiosity, I now breathe in the magic that surrounds my friends and myself. There is a powerful magical focus over Vaikner’s chest, out of sight underneath his clothing. It weaves together the scents of sharp steel, musk, thyme, grease-paint, and an acrid, alchemical aroma. I am impressed at the complexity of this working: it has elements of abjuration, conjuration, divination, illusion, and transmutation all in one mysterious magical item.
I look over at Eliana and catch a flicker of divine energy, with its achingly and unknowably sweet fragrance, coming from her coin purse. Then, enthralled and forgetting everything else, I sense the herbal, thyme-note of divination from my own necklace. The graceful silver star, symbol of the Seldarine, has been set with a blue rain-drop gem. A gift from Calimshan, from my Papa. It is this jewel that glows with magical energy. I had no previous idea that it was enchanted! Eagerly, I examine the snow eagle feather at my sword hilt. My father kissed this symbol of the Sky Wardens when we were saying our farewells. It too shimmers with spell-scent. This time, I detect the alchemical fragrance of transmutation.
Shaking my head in wonder, I set aside my surprise at these unexpected gifts. I will examine my necklace and feather when I have more leisure. For now, I quickly complete the scan of our immediate surroundings. I notice that the potions we took from the Xanathari stronghold exude the rich loam scent of necromantic energy. And, lastly, I realize that, ebbing and flowing all about me like a silvery sea, is the persistent metallic haze of abjuration magic. Like a steel shield, it stretches out of the shop and through the city streets as far as I can sense. Could this be the Deep’s Dragonward? If so, this ancient protective spell is in place and safe. Deeply relieved, I am nonetheless increasingly puzzled by what Uza saw here that scared her so much.
“My Lady’s gift is as illuminating as ever.” I breathe. “But, perhaps as my access to the Weave is through a Divine source, it is not impacted by whatever it is that is troubling your casting?”
“This may be so.” Vaikner concedes with a frown.
While the Drow Magist and I have explored the arcane aspects of this place, Eliana has been keenly surveying the physical landscape of “Curiosity & Satisfaction”. She now points out the few, very few, signs of disturbance. An umbrella stand shifted to stand crookedly in our path. An iridescent glass flagon – perhaps a perfume bottle – tipped over onto its side on a nearby counter. A multi-hued knot of scarves slipping floor-wards off their hanger in contrast to their neatly arranged garment neighbors. Nothing here tells the tale of obvious violence. The disorder is minor enough that it could be attributed to a careless customer. Or even to Uza herself, hurrying to leave the shop in fear of…what exactly?
Walking slowly, we continue our search of the crowded space. I reach for the tumbled bundle of scarves, smoothing them out into a fan-like display as I hang them back in their proper place. One of the scarves is particularly lovely. Clearly enchanted, it is a gossamer web of delicate, pearl-white lace. The fine fabric is somehow infused with the moon’s glow, shimmering silver in the dim light. Trailing my fingers over it longingly, I turn to see Eliana at the foot of the wooden staircase.
“Has anyone seen sign of the cat?” She whispers. “We should probably check up here.”
I nod, hurrying over to join her. I step lightly, weaving my way between tables and shelves. But, as I reach the stairs, I hear an upsetting little crunching sound under my feet. Dismayed, I see that another of Uza’s lovely ornaments must have been jostled out of its place and onto the floor. Where I have now crushed it into pieces. Regretfully, I pick up the fragments of what was once a beautiful little sculpture of a grey bird. Captured in flight, it was remarkably life-like and detailed.
“What a pity!” I sigh. “I ruined such a pretty little thing.”
Eliana shrugs and jerks her head towards the loft.
“We are going upstairs, Vaikner.” She calls softly. “Are you coming?”
“I will stay down here and keep watch.” He responds, looking up from his inspection of a tiny framed painting.
Eliana shrugs again and starts up the stairs. Following her, picking my path with even more caution than before, I manage to avoid damaging any more of Uza’s property. At the top of the stairs is a small balcony room, furnished with a table and matching single chair, a small sofa, and several storage cabinets. Eliana pokes around the cupboards and peers under the furniture.
“Pierogi!” I call in enthusiastic encouragement. “Little Pierogi! Come out!”
My friend starts, knocking her head against the inside of a cabinet before straightening. She sniffs disapprovingly.
“He’s not out here. Let’s check in there.” Eliana gestures to a door, shut nearly to, leading off the main portion of the loft.
I follow her agreeably. Passing Uza’s table, my curiosity is sparked by a little porcelain bowl containing a shiny pink powder. Vaikner’s ever-questioning mind must be a bad influence on me. Fumbling in my pocket I find a scrap of paper and, folding this into a little cone, I scoop some of the mysterious substance out of the bowl. I turn to find Eliana looking at me in an oddly surly way.
“This is unusual.” I mutter nonchalantly. “Vaikner may wish for a sample for his studies.”
I slip the folded paper back into my pocket. There is another small stone statue on the table next to the bowl of powder. It is in the same meticulously realistic style as the bird that I broke. This figurine is of a rat. I wonder if Uza amuses herself by carving these impressive sculptures in her leisure hours. Charmed, but not deeming this an appropriate time to share my musings with my companion, I proceed through Uza’s private quarters in silence. We find Pierogi under the bed. And soon come to realize that he does not wish to be found.
“Why is he spitting like that?” I wonder aloud. “I think that he may be getting ready to mount his attack.”
Eliana, who had been kneeling and making soothing noises into the dark space under the bed, now emerges with a resigned shake of the head.
“Well, he looks well enough. I can’t tell that he’s been harmed at all. And I think that he feels safe in his little corner. Let’s leave him be.” She suggests.
As we return down the steps to the shop floor, I see that Vaikner has continued his search of the store. He stands behind a low counter, holding a colorful toy figurine. I cannot quite make out what the small creature is supposed to be but I can see that it has gauzy wings. As Vaikner turns it over in his hands, there is a little silvery clicking noise and then sweet music fills the shop. With a sharp intake of breath, I recognize the melody. It is a very old Elven lullaby: To the Water, to the Wild. Memories stir as the haunting tones of the ancient Feywild song wind their way around my heart. I am momentarily transported to another time and another place: home in the golden light of early autumn evening. I remember sitting, cosy and clean and bundled in soft blankets, gazing, enchanted, out onto our tower balcony. Where my Mama nested, sunning her wings in the last of the waning warmth of the day. And singing this same song to me.
The spell is broken by Vaikner’s cry of alarm.
“Help! There is something here! Oh no…basilisk!” He croaks out, before disappearing between rows of shelves.
“Close your eyes! Do not look at it Eliana!” I shout.
I leap off the staircase, landing amidst a tumble of magical trinkets on one of the counters in the center of the room. I draw my swords. Narrowing my eyes to slits and darting cautious little glimpses at my surroundings, I seek our enemy. It is frustrating. I feel like one who needs a whole flagon of cool water to quench her eager thirst. But is allowed only meager drops that barely moisten her lips. Eliana joins me, skipping up onto the table. She too looks about her quickly and then reaches down, scooping up a matched pair of hand mirrors, framed in ornate silver.
“I have read the tales too.” She smiles, handing me a mirror.
I grin back at her and, sheathing Vess, fix my gaze on the reflective surface in my hand. I scour the dim spaces between cabinets and counters using the mirror. There! I can see why Uza was convinced that she was under Dragon-attack. Even though it is only the size of a large ice-hound, the creature behind me, stalking its way towards Vaikner, is primevally reptilian. Its scales are mold-blue and it hisses aggressively. The smell of heated stone and something sour, like mildewed feathers, rises from the ominously stirring spines along its head and back. The spiky outgrowths gleam, sharply crystalline, but yet oddly flesh-like in their movements. Far too many curved claws click on the floor: the monster has eight legs, four on each side of its heavy body. A thick tail drags behind it. A bright blue glow comes from its swaying head – its eyes! I quickly look away.
Vaikner, trapped at the end of an aisle between table and tall shelves, crouches motionless. His eyes are firmly closed and his face is furrowed in concentration. Tightly wound, he looks as thought he is preparing to leap blindly, up and over the oncoming monster.
“Hold still there, Vaikner!” I cry. “Keep your eyes closed.”
The creature, hearing my call, pauses. I do not wait for it to turn its curse-laden stare upon me. Looking into the mirror until the very last moment, I twirl and jump. It is disorientating, like doing battle as a reflection of myself. But I land next to the basilisk, feeling scales rasp against my trouser leg. I sink Quen into its thick neck, between two rattling spines. I stab, twist, and then leap; back and away. The deep wound left by my blade bubbles up with a purple-grey fluid. It reeks of acid. The basilisk hisses again. I teeter on the edge of a table, kick a delicate basket filled with fragrant soaps out of the way, and catch my balance. A furious tail slashes at the air where I had been standing during my attack, just an instant before.
Vaikner, watching through slitted eyes, rises and moves stealthily sideways. I believe he means to join me up on the counter. The monster, confused and lacking sufficient space to turn fully in this narrow place, lunges forward towards its original prey. I hear Vaikner’s gasp of startled pain as the basilisk grabs his leg in its jaws and starts backwards, twisting its head viciously as it goes. The Drow is dragged down. He grabs desperately at shelves and racks of garments as the creatures dashes him against the floor and furniture. I curse quietly.
I spring down again, repeating my slashing attack. I aim for the basilisk’s underbelly but it surges backwards and its leg moves into the path of my blade. A gash opens in the muscled limb and the creature spasms, raking at me with its claws. I throw myself backwards to avoid being gutted, trip painfully over the basilisk’s tail, and land on my rear end behind the beast. Digging in with heels and elbows, I skitter hurriedly away before the monster can strike at me again.
But the attack does not come. Again, whether because its malicious little mind is incapable of understanding the source of its body’s hurts, or because it cannot turn to face me fully, the basilisk chooses to exert its vengeance on the object closest to it. I hear a ghastly, wetly-muffled crunch and Vaikner moans. His voice weakens swiftly and then fades away altogether. The light globes go out. There is hissing, the sound of a scaled form shifting, and more sickly crunching as the basilisk continues to worry at Vaikner’s inert form.
I get up, dropping the mirror and drawing Vess. Both swords in hand, I start forward. Then there is the soft sound of wings and I smell lavender. Fukurou’s small feathered form plunges down, whirling about the basilisk’s head, scratching and pecking. Eliana follows, clearly allowing the faithful owl’s fluttering to guide her in the dark. She stabs at the hulking form of the basilisk and it lifts its dripping jaws from Vaikner’s mangled legs, shrieking. Impressed and surprised, I see that Eliana’s paired scimitars are very fine. Having put them to good use, she jumps back.
My way clear, I stride forward again. The basilisk, twisting in pain, has dropped Vaikner. But has still not yet managed to turn its baleful gaze towards me. I do not intend to allow this to happen. Working grimly, I inflict wound after devastating wound on the beast with both of my blades. Purple-grey blood splashes onto Uza’s shelves. Scales shear off and attach stickily to my sword blades. There is an unpleasant splatting sound as portions of the basilisk that do not belong on its outside fall wetly onto the floor. Finally, the creature is still.
Taking deep gasping breaths, I limp over to join Eliana in the narrow space where Vaikner lies, unmoving. I slip in blood: the basilisk or Vaikner’s, I cannot tell.
“He’s alive.” She whispers, her eyes wide in the dark as she looks for me. “Can you heal him?”
I nod shakily before remembering that she probably cannot see this.
“I will try.” I reply hoarsely.
“Also…um. Why does he have three eyes?” Eliana asks. “I don’t remember that he had more than the normal two before. What’s this third one on his forehead?”
“I do not know. If it is some magical harm that he took from the basilisk, my Lady’s healing should set it right. Along with his physical hurts. But he said that his spell casting felt odd. Before he was attacked he said this. So perhaps it has something to do with that.” I shrug wearily.
Crouching down and placing my hands over shredded cloth and broken skin, I swallow back my dismay at the extend of the damage. Praying to my Lady, I allow her cool strength to flow through me and knit together the slivered bone and torn muscle. Vaikner shudders and opens his eyes. All three of them.
“Just ignore it.” Eliana mutters urgently. “Perhaps it will go away.”
I stare at her, mouth open.
“Thank you.” Vaikner whispers. “The basilisk. Where is it? I cannot believe we saw a basilisk. How extraordinary! Please help me up. I need to examine it.”
Sighing and shaking her head, Eliana assists our tireless scholar to his feet. I take several restful breaths and finish my prayer of gratitude to Aerdrie Faenya. By the time that I am done cleaning my blades, Vaikner has re-illuminated the room and is kneeling, muttering excitedly, over the carcass of the beast that nearly ended him.
“Look at this! What is this thing around its neck?” He calls to us.
“Hmm. A collar, I think.” Eliana joins him.
I look at the thick band of leather encircling the monstrous scaled neck. Stained and damaged, there are two little plaques attached to either side of the collar. The neat writing on them is still legible.
“Basilisk. Moonshae Isles.” Vaikner reads out the print on one side and then cranes to assess the other. “The Sea Maiden’s Faire.”
“We know that it is a basilisk.” I shrug. “Why does it need to be labeled? And are the Moonshae Isles its home? Does this collar mean it belonged to somebody who wished it to be returned to them in case it became misplaced?”
I sink into incredulous silence at the idea of anyone claiming this creature for their own.
“It is like a label that one would find affixed to a specimen in a museum. Or other educational exhibit.” Vaikner muses aloud.
“Or at a circus. Or fair, in this case.” Eliana says. “I think this basilisk was part of a display at this Sea Maiden’s Faire. Wherever that is. It got out somehow. Or was stolen, lost, or released for some reason.”
“My lodgings are very close to the docks. Perhaps someone there will know more about a Sea Faire. I will take this collar and ask.” Vaikner suggests. “I think I will also, er, harvest some of the parts of this creature that may be useful. There are castings that require all manner of ingredients. Some most rare and exotic.”
“Well, it doesn’t get a lot more exotic than that.” Eliana makes a face. “I’ll check any dark corners we haven’t already looked into. Just to make sure there are no more surprises in here.”
“I will help you with the basilisk if you like, Vaikner. I just recently purchased daggers – you will likely need blades.” I volunteer.
It does not take long to collect the components of the body that Vaikner believes will prove useful for his Art. Several of the creature’s spines and their attached venom sacs. And its eyes, now cloudy and deprived of their perilous ability. Remembering the small petrified figures that I took for lovely, life-like sculptures – the rat and the broken bird – I am unnerved enough to avoid even the dead gaze of the basilisk. I look away from its face while Vaikner works.
Carefully stowing his prizes, Vaikner turns back to Uza’s collection of wares. The ornaments and trinkets are in greater disorder now, but Vaikner finds what he is looking for without difficulty.
“I saw several items here that are quite intriguing.” He tells me. “Look at this tiny painting, Elodie. Not only is it marvelously wrought on such a small canvas – the face in this work is lovely – but the woman appears to be breathing.”
He holds out a portrait. It is very small; it fits in the palm of my hand with plenty of room to spare. And the woman in the little painting is very beautiful. She has shining black hair woven around a shapely head. Her eyes are dark and thoughtful. A smile barely curves her lips but she does not look happy. At first I think it is nothing more remarkable than a skillfully rendered portrait. But, after a moment, I see the figure in the frame shift slightly. As if sighing.
Eyes wide, I return the picture to Vaikner. I do not know enough about the Art to explain how this effect is achieved but it is a strangely unsettling trick.
“And then these glasses. They mesmerize in an odd way. I am not certain precisely what they do – I did not wear them for long enough to be sure. But I would like to study them further.” Vaikner continues.
He is holding a pair of spectacles. Their frame is gaudily ornamented. It is shaped and painted to look like butterfly wings. I do not try them on.
“And then there is this, of course. Nearly got me killed.” Vaikner chuckles uneasily.
In all the fear and urgency of battle, I stopped hearing music. I suddenly realize that the small shape in Vaikner’s hands is still playing the same haunting Elven melody that so moved me earlier. I see now that it is a toy made to resemble a colorful fairy dragon. It is very sweet. But the lullaby grates suddenly. Amidst the gore and innards of the hacked-up basilisk, in a dim shop that reeks of blood, it is painfully out of place.
“How do you silence the melody?” I ask.
“Hmm. I am not sure.” He turns the toy over several times, pressing and pulling on different parts of the design.
Finally, he removes a shirt from his pack, wraps it around the singing fairy dragon, and stuffs both shirt and toy back into his rucksack.
“There!” He says uncomfortably. “This will take care of the noise.”
I snicker.
“Well, as we are speaking of items that caught our attention.” I turn to the familiar rack displaying diaphanous lengths of silk and lace. “I found a scarf that is simply beautiful.
“Yes. Very pretty.” Vaikner says absently, staring into his portrait again.
I gently wrap the moon glow scarf around my neck. Turning to find a mirror, I see Eliana watching us with an amused quirk to her mouth.
“Well, if you two have finished your looting, I have something that you should see.” She smiles.
Looting!
“Looting?” I repeat, horrified. “Do you think that Uza would object if we took these things?”
“Without paying for them, you mean? Yeah.” Eliana answers brutally.
“We are not looting!” Vaikner exclaims. “This is just…our proper reward for the brave deed of destroying the basilisk. And saving that cat. What was his name?”
“Lord Piergeron.” I whisper, uncertain. “I do not want Uza to think that we are stealing from her. I suppose that we can leave some coin…”
“We earned this!” Vaikner argues. “There is nothing wrong with, ahem, taking these most interesting items. For further study.”
I remain doubtful. But the scarf is perfect. And perfectly lovely. I know just what I wish to do with it. Vaikner truly is a bad influence, it seems. I toss the end of the scarf around my neck and look to Eliana questioningly.
“What have you found?” I ask.
She leads us to the back wall of Uza’s shop. This side of the building overlooks a narrow and refuse-strewn alleyway. I know this because there is a large hole smashed into the bricks here. I can climb through, right out of Uza’s snug store and into the Deep outside. There are several bluish scales adhered to the irregular edges of the opening. And another petrified rat.
“It must have broken in through here.” Eliana points. “It was probably hungry. Or maybe looking for a safe nesting spot.”
With a shudder, I think back to the lumbering, hissing beast. And the wet cracking noises as its powerful jaws clamped down on my friend’s shattered legs.
“Uza was truly lucky that she made her escape when she did! And Pierogi was fortunate too! Blind, so he could not be petrified. And clever enough to conceal himself under the bed!” I cry.
“Let us go tell her so.” Eliana agrees, smiling.
We return to Felzoun’s Folly to find Uza anxiously awaiting news. The tea has clearly done her a great deal of good. She is no longer weeping and looks much more alert.
“You were correct, Uza.” Vaikner greets her. “There was a dangerous creature in your shop. A basilisk!”
“Don’t worry!” Eliana hurries to reassure her. “It is dead and your, um, sweet kitty has taken no harm.”
“And your shop is mostly intact too.” I add happily. “There is only a little damage. A bit of, well, staining. And a small hole in the back wall.”
Uza slumps in her seat, staring.
“Tell me everything.” She demands. “Better yet, show me. I need to check on Pierogi!”
To the Dwarven barkeep’s obnoxiously obvious relief, we leave Felzoun’s Folly together. The door shuts behind us with a meaningful thud and the lights in the windows dim soon afterward.
Walking back to Uza’s shop we describe what we found and battled in “Curiosity & Satisfaction.” It quickly becomes evident that the shop’s proprietor has entirely recovered her previously ale-impaired wits.
“Ah yes, you searched the premises thoroughly, did you?” She looks at me, eyes beadily bright. “And you seem to have taken a liking to some of it, at least. That scarf around your throat looks rather familiar.”
“Oh! Oh yes. I found it particularly lovely and suitable. I would like to keep it…” I stammer, overwhelmed by shame and embarrassment. “I can pay you…”
“I also took things!” Vaikner calls out, guilt-stricken. “I took this little painting, and these magical glasses, and also a musical fairy dragon toy!”
We squirm uncomfortably before the small, white-haired figure, hanging our heads. Eliana snorts. Uza smiles mischievously at her.
“Well now, no need to fluster and fuss.” She chuckles. “Once an adventurer…Anyway, let’s get back so I can check on the rest of the shop. And then I can tell you all about the items you, mm, selected for purchase.”
We follow Uza in sheepish silence, ignoring Eliana’s amused grin.
Once inside her shop, Uza calls Pierogi’s name anxiously. I am fascinated to see how successfully the cat conceals his snarling, hissing, demonic aspect as he prances jauntily down the stairs. Mistress and feline share a rapturous reunion. Uza sheds a few more tears as she squeezes her mangy cat. Pierogi responds with a little grumble-squawk of protest, squirming impatiently out of Uza’s arms and trotting over to daintily sniff at a wet clump of basilisk innards on the floor nearby.
Uza’s newly cheerful demeanor drains away when she sees the corpse of the basilisk scattered around her floor.
“Oh my! Oh my!” She keeps repeating, stunned. “And you managed to kill it, the three of you?”
“Indeed yes!” I confirm proudly. “Vaikner recognized the monster for what it was. And was able to warn us so that we did not look at it directly and become petrified. Then it tried to devour him but, thank the Lady, we stopped it. Vaikner’s courageous Familiar, the owl Fukurou, distracted it just before it chewed off his leg. And then Eliana valiantly skewered it with her scimitars!”
“And then Elodie did what Elodie does so well…” Eliana adds, smiling at me.
I beam back at her, touched
“She got angry and hacked it to pieces with her swords.” Eliana finishes with satisfaction.
My hair swishes indignantly.
“Actually, my People’s blade techniques are renowned for their elegance. Words like ‘angry’ and ‘hacked’ imply…” I begin stiffly.
Feeling a warm touch against my calf, I stop talking and grow very still. It is the cat, Pierogi. He has completed his investigation of the basilisk remains and is now leaning against my leg. Arching his back and emitting a rhythmic droning-growling noise. Some of the monster’s blood has spattered over my boots; this must be what has drawn in the ravenous, furry fiend. I surreptitiously flick my fingers in his direction, keeping a safe distance from his small flat face. While he is distracted, I move my leg away. He eyes me expressionlessly and follows, resuming his purring attentions. He does not look as warlike, or as decidedly evil, as before. With tense caution, I bend slightly at the waist. Just far enough to give Pierogi a very quick scratch behind his ears, before straightening to stand rigidly upright once again. He purrs louder. His fur is very soft.
While I was focused on avoiding an attack by Uza’s mercurial cat, the conversation has turned to the enchanted items that so intrigued Vaikner. Uza is kindly explaining what each of the pieces are. I believe that I have missed whatever it was that she said about the butterfly spectacles and the fairy dragon. She now seems to be describing the tiny painting.
“And, don’t you know, sometimes you just come across these fascinating things.” She is saying. “You do not always discover as much detail about their history and intended uses as you would like. But you know that some customer or other will have their curiosity sparked when they see them! As did you! Indeed, if you learn anything more about this artist and this oddly…animated little painting, do let me know.”
It seems that, not only has Uza forgiven us our looting, she is allowing Vaikner to keep the items that he pilfered.
“And you, Elodie? You took a liking to that scarf, it would seem. You have a good eye.” Uza smiles warmly in my direction.
I start guiltily. Rising from my knees and reluctantly leaving off stroking Pierogi’s cuddly little tummy, I unwind the shimmering scarf from around my neck. Uza takes it from me gently.
“This is Selûne’s Gossamer.” She says. “So called because it reacts to moonlight. With this rather mesmerizing glow. Enjoy its light, my Dear.”
She hands me back the scarf.
“Th…thank you!” I manage to gasp, folding the delicate fabric and slipping it safely into an inner pocket of my coat. “I have never seen one like it!”
Uza is still smiling.
“May I ask?” I speak hesitatingly. “When we were searching your rooms for Pierogi, we came across a glittering powder in a little bowl on your table. I have also never seen anything like that. What is it?”
“Ah! That is my Dust of Deliciousness!” Uza twinkles delightedly. “A real find, that! Just a pinch added to any food makes it taste exquisitely of – well, whatever it is that you like best! Taken so, it can add real spice to a dull meal. Imbibed regularly it gives good sleep. And can cause a little mild befuddlement. Perhaps one may see things that are not strictly there…”
“Hmm.” Eliana is laughing. “So, when you complained about that naked ghost that was troubling you?”
“A young and handsome naked man, that happened to be a ghost, yes.” Uza grins. “And I never complained. He wasn’t any trouble.”
“Oh. Well, thank you for explaining.” I raise my voice over Uza and Eliana’s continued chuckles.
Uza grows serious.
“I know that some of you may have already picked out gifts for yourselves. But I cannot sufficiently express my gratitude for what you did for us tonight; for Pierogi and I. You…you believed me. And you helped.” Uza pauses, her eyes filling once more.
Even as we assure her that it was no great trouble to battle the basilisk to ensure the safety of her and her adorable cat, Uza insists on selecting additional rewards to present us with. She gifts Eliana with a magical flask, engraved with Dwarven runes and enspelled to keep cold food cool and prevent warm foods from losing their heat. Eliana thanks her with delight. Vaikner is equally pleased with his gift: a wand of many colors that sends a flicker of rainbow script into the air when wielded. I am charmed all over again when Uza shows me my gift. It is a silver ring, crowned with a delicately worked rosebud. When gently turned and lifted, the bud seems to detach from the ring. But, in reality, the decoration remains intact and what is drawn up in my hand is a real, long-stemmed rose. Fragrant and velvety, kissed with dewdrops.
“You can use this as many times as you will.” Uza explains. “There seems to be no limit to the roses within the ring. The color of the blossoms varies – perhaps according to the wearer’s mood and need?”
“Thank you. This is so very kind of you!” I exclaim.
In my pleasure with the sweetly scented bloom, I have almost forgotten our gory surroundings. Vaikner has been eyeing the bits of basilisk with some distress, however.
“I think we should clean this up, yes?” He asks.
Uza looks around her shop.
“Actually,” She answers slowly. “I think that Mirt should see this. And it will keep me busy, which is a good thing. It is late and you young ones surely have better things to do than shoveling monster guts off the floor!”
“We do wish to look into where this creature came from.” Vaikner answers earnestly. “This tag on its collar says Sea Maiden’s Faire. Have you ever heard of this place?”
Uza thinks for a moment.
“Why, actually, yes. It’s been advertised in the Wazoo, hasn’t it?” She brightens. “A visiting carnival. Traveling by ship. And moored on the docks right now, I believe.”
“A carnival would house such dangerous beasts?” I frown. “And be permitted to bring them into a populated part of the Deep? Allowing them to roam free to endanger citizens?”
“I imagine the roaming free was not a part of the original plan.” Uza smiles wryly at my outrage. “But carnivals generally vie to bring the most outlandish and shocking things to their audiences. Or at least they claim to do so. It brings in the nibs. And, yes, the Deep gets their share by collecting fees when the fair applies for permission to dock here. The city is always in need of funds.”
I simply shake my head, shocked at this display of avarice triumphing over any concern for the safety of upstanding citizens such as Uza and Pierogi.
“Well, now I know where to take the collar.” Vaikner nods, pleased. “I will find out more about this fair as soon as I can.”
After a little more pleasant talk, we leave Uza with our best wishes and our assurances that, should she need help in the future, she may call upon us at any time.
The moon has set and the cool night is thick about us as we walk. It is our intention to accompany Vaikner safely to his inn, after which Eliana and I will turn north to our lodgings.
We have not traveled far through the quiet streets when we are hailed by a merry call.
“Good evening and may the friendly night treat you kindly!” A clear voice rings out to our left.
Turning as one, we see a young Halfling, leaning at his leisure at the opening to a nearby alleyway. He smiles broadly at our surprised faces.
“I beg your pardon my fine Ladies and Gentleman!” He chuckles. “I did not intend to startle you. My name is Carlin Havedear and you have nothing to fear from me!”
I slow, looking at the cheerful Carlin curiously. His pose is one of untroubled calm and his good humor seems genuine. His clothing is clean and well-made. I do not see that he holds any weapons on his person.
“Good evening to you. And a good night.” Eliana says with brief politeness, continuing on.
“Ah. I see you are in a hurry to get to your destination this night.” The Halfling laughs self-deprecatingly. “Forgive me if I delay you. I, being plagued by the inability to sleep tonight, ventured out in the hopes that fresh air would help with my ailment. And, unexpectedly running into decent-seeming folk at this late hour, I leapt at the chance for pleasant company and conversation. And, I confess, for new custom. I am, after all, a merchant and my business is to provide customers with what they seek. But I will not hold you here any longer. I will return to my reading and perhaps sleep will kindly pay me a visit later this night!”
Vaikner stops.
“What are you reading?” He asks. “Are books your business?”
“Vaikner…” Eliana begins warningly.
Carlin regards Vaikner solemnly for a moment, then beams even more delightedly.
“Why yes! Since you ask, that is exactly my business.” He nods.
“What kind of books?” Vaikner questions eagerly. “Do you stock any arcane texts?”
“Do I? How very extraordinary that you should enquire about this in particular! It is what I specialize in!” Carlin exclaims.
Vaikner takes several steps towards the alleyway. Eliana groans. I look between her and the Drow uncertainly.
“My shop is intended for a rather, hmm, exclusive and discerning clientele.” Carlin explains. “I not only boast an extensive collection of books on mystical subjects. But I have also managed to acquire a varied selection of – shall we say – artifacts from unusual sources. Difficult to find items from difficult to reach places. Undermountain to be exact.”
Eyes wide and hair twitching excitedly, I join Vaikner as he steps eagerly forward.
“Hold on, you two!” Eliana calls crossly. “Where are you going?”
Vaikner does not answer. I turn back to Eliana, briefly torn between her and the intriguing Halfling.
“This…this subject is of particular relevance to me.” I murmur. “It may be a rare opportunity to acquire knowledge.”
“A rare opportunity to get your head beaten in, more likely.” Eliana flares back at me.
“Ah, I see that some of my humble wares may be of interest to you.” Carlin continues smoothly. “Well, I will be very happy to welcome you to my shop tomorrow. I open at nine bells precisely.”
He pauses, wincing in response to the disappointment in our faces.
“But perhaps this would not be so convenient for you? You may have other matters to attend to in the morning?” He pauses and then, as if coming to a decision, resumes speaking with greater energy. “Well, why stand on ceremony? I cannot sleep anyway. Come! Follow me and I will open up the shop just for you. Now. Perhaps you will find something to please you. And I may gain happy customers!”
He gestures invitingly at us and then ducks backwards into the alley. It is very dark and I hear restless little movements within; like rats scurrying through dank tunnels. Vaikner and I have both paused warily at the alley opening. Eliana catches up to us here.
“What are you two thinking?” She hisses, swiftly scanning the shadows behind and about us. “Don’t you know a trap when you step into it?”
“He said that he is a bookseller, Elie.” Vaikner replies in wounded tones. “I need to find more arcane tomes. I need to improve my casting skills! It is worth a risk if I can source magical texts at a good price!”
Eliana turns to me, her face a brewing storm.
“I will go with him and make sure that it is safe, Eliana.” I say quickly. “And if there are truly artifacts brought up from Undermountain in this shop…well, I need to see them.”
Eliana makes an incoherent sound of fury, disbelief, and resignation.
“I’m not standing here while you two skip down there to get robbed.” She grates out. “Let’s go. But keep your eyes open. And don’t say I didn’t warn you when this ends badly!”
More uncertain than ever, but unable to turn down even the small chance of discovering something of use to my quest, I step into the alleyway. Vaikner walks slowly beside me.
“Where did he go, Elodie?” He whispers. “Do you see him?”
“Come along! Come along!” Carlin suddenly steps out in front of us, waving merrily. “Follow me. It’s not too much farther now. My deals will knock you out!”
Hesitatingly, we take several more steps down the narrow alley. The Halfling has hurried forward and is once more out of our sight.
“Er, Elodie?” Vaikner begins thoughtfully. “Did you hear what he said?”
“I said my deals will knock you out!” Carlin’s voice, all his previous cheer curdled into cold spite, echoes out far ahead.
“Yes. I heard.” I confirm glumly. “I think, perhaps, it is time for you to leave. Run, Vaikner!”
I draw my swords and hear Eliana, standing just behind me, string her bow. Vaikner turns and speeds towards the little sliver of light where the alley opens out into the street. Why is it so small? How did we get so far so quickly?
Bounding through the darkness, Vaikner almost makes it out. But, just as he reaches the street, a brawny, thickly-haired arm shoots out, blocking his path. It is precisely at Drow throat level and, as Vaikner rushes full-tilt out of the alley, he collides with it. Hard. I hear a painful choked gurgle and Vaikner falls back to lie, unmoving, on his back.
“Oh no. Not again.” I whisper bleakly.
Eliana just glares.
I race past her and towards Vaikner’s still form. As I fly forward, the arm’s owner steps into the alley. It is a Bugbear. Looming over me, fur dust brown and smelling like rain-soaked dog, he growls as he lumbers forward. I feel very tired. The alley reeks of over-cooked cabbage and I have difficulty finding good purchase as my feet slip in unnamed muck. I come in low, ducking under the Bugbear’s swinging punches and kicking him brutally. He is unbothered by my blows. I try to dance past him, testing him with my blades and attempting to lead him out of the alley. Into the street where there is at least a small chance that we will be seen. And that help will come.
This does bother him. With an angry roar and a whistling speed that I did not expect from his bulky form, he lunges at me with a heavy fist. I pivot desperately but I am too slow to avoid the entirety of the strike. Even his partial blow, barely connecting with my brow, sends me flying backwards into the building whose wall forms one side of the grimy alley. I hurtle through the air like a fledgling’s rag toy. In the instant before my head hits the bricks behind me, I have time to wince in anticipation of the pain to come. As agony explodes at the base of my skull, the last thing I see is Eliana’s face, set in fury, as she charges the Bugbear. All alone. Tears fill my eyes as pain and rage and frustration seethe silently within me. But there is nothing I can do. I slide limply down the stained wall. And then darkness comes for me and I do not feel anything more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope that you enjoyed this chronicle of our party’s patented mix of kindness, heroism, avid curiosity and…what is another, less brutal word for stupidity? Nope, no beating around the Bugbear here. Straight up stupidity in at least two-thirds of the party. Well, at least we got a proper cliff-hanger out of it.
I have several songs that play along in my mind for this chapter:
For the song playing in the tavern where the company finds Uza:
Kocham Cię, Kochanie Moje, Maanam
For Uza:
Heard it All Before, Retrofile.
For “Curiosity & Satisfaction”, the shop and the company’s exploration of its delightful surprises:
Evening Party, Yann Tiersen
Please also visit my playlist on Spotify. I will be populating this with all of our campaign tunes as we adventure onwards:
Tears of the Seldarine 
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