Chapter Twenty-eight: First Class

28th Mirtul, Year of Three Ships Sailing (D.R. 1492), shortly after dawn.

As it happens, I am quite early. The street in front of Mirt’s estate is empty. I walk cautiously down overgrown paths towards the main house. It towers above the city, perched on an outcropping of rock that juts out over the sea beyond. The placement of the home is breath-taking but its design, as seems to be the case with many Human buildings, was intended less for beauty and more for defense. 

While the house is a solid blocky structure, like a fortress, the grounds around it were once clearly ornamental. Perhaps it was an attempt to soften the home’s harsh lines. Now, however, the elaborate flower plantings and neat shrubberies have been allowed to revert to a jungle-like state. The place is a little desolate.

Having successfully navigated the wild garden, I arrive at a sturdy wooden door. I knock and soon hear the steady tread of an approaching Fodder. The mechanical man opens the door and, ignoring my greeting, steps aside. He gestures for me to follow him indoors. Obediently, I trail Fodder through a bewildering series of chambers, halls, and more chambers. Finally, passing out through wide sea-green glass doors, we emerge into a large interior courtyard. 

There, on a patio directly outside, is an open air dining room. The courtyard stretches beyond this and its odd furnishings draw my interest. There is an ornamental fountain – that is not unexpected. There are also looming wooden pillars and half-finished scaffolding scattered in irregular formations throughout the yard. I recognize a combat training scene and smile in anticipation.

Movement close by draws my attention back to the dining area. There, at a table bowed under the weight of various foodstuffs, are Mirt and Uza. They both have the slightly pink and rumpled look of recent sleep. And are in fact dressed in sumptuous velvet bath robes. Visible under Mirt’s aqua dressing gown are startling, peacock-blue pajamas. Uza is dressed in more tasteful tones – a dove gray night gown with silvery lace trim peeks out from under her darker gray robe. They sit close together at table, smiling at each other as Mirt solicitously pours some steaming and fragrant beverage into Uza’s cup. 

Suddenly shy at intruding on this scene, somehow so much more intimate than the exertions I unfortunately witnessed in the coach last evening, I hesitate at the door. Mirt and Uza have spotted me however, and beckon me towards them. 

“Good morning! I am sorry to be so early. I was not sure how long it would take me to find your home.” I hurriedly explain.

“No matter! No matter! More time for breakfast. What will you be drinking Elodie?” Mirt booms out, gesturing at a nearby sideboard. 

I see another display of platters and bowls, bottles and casks, on the sideboard. It rivals the groaning dining table itself for the sheer abundance and variety of food and drink. Overwhelmed by the choices before me, I hesitantly reach for coffee.

“Aah, keeping your wits about you for the fight later eh? Good! Good!” Mirt roars as he drains an enormous tumbler of ale with relish.

“Come here and sit by me, Elodie!” Uza smiles her contented smile. “You must try these eggs. They are Mirt’s favorite. The preparation is called Golden Eyes and it makes for a very bracing start to the morning.”

It is impossible not to return Uza’s light-filled smile. I slip into the chair next to her and she scoops generous portions of boiled eggs, sliced and dressed with a saffron-tinged creamy sauce and green herbs, first onto my plate and then onto Mirt’s.

I am just prodding a half-egg with my fork, watching with irritation as it slips away from the tines, when new voices can be heard at the door.

Elie and Vaikner arrive together. Elie’s brows ride up to her hairline to see me comfortably seated with the nightgown-clad Uza and Mirt. She frowns doubtfully and shakes her head. I must find a moment to explain that my rudeness in intruding on our hosts so early was not intentional: I simply did not wish to be late for training! For the moment, I content myself with asking about my friends’ health and expressing my hope that they spent the preceding night pleasantly. Vaikner, smiling more widely than usual, assures me that Eliana had a very pleasant night indeed. She turns her frown on him. At this interesting moment, we are joined by more guests. Renaer and Floon! It is a happy reunion as all greet each other warmly and then sit down to morning feast. Tucking in with enthusiasm that gives Mirt’s table its proper due, the company is content. 

“Well, has your heroic little band picked out a name?” Mirt breaks into the sounds of energetic breakfasting. “You should do so before you go off to fight this Hag. So at least they have something to put on the tombstone!”

Once more, there is a clamor as we each voice our opinions on the best title for our posse. My preference is for a name that reflects our sacred purpose for good. Like “The Lady’s Chosen” or “Wings of the Divine.” I am not certain why, but Vaikner and Elie vehemently disagree with my ideas.

Vaikner suggests a name that will commemorate both the site our first expected significant triumph, and refer to our new base of operations: “The Trollskull Trio.” I strain to set aside my injured feelings.

“Ooh, I do like that! I like how the two ‘t’s’ sound together!” I exclaim. “But, what about Sister and Aubray? They will be helping us with the Hag at Trollskull alley.”

Vaikner does not hear me. Enthusiastically, he elaborates on his plan to associate our heroic deeds with the new tavern, Essentially branding each with the same name, so as to increase interest and custom in the business.

“I do not think that we should tarnish the work that we perform for the good of Waterdeep by using our heroic deeds to advertise ale!” I say testily.

Then, softening my tone, I continue the negotiation.

“But, since two ‘t’s’ sound good together, perhaps we can add another? We can be ‘The Terrifying Trollskull Trio’!”

“No, I don’t think so.” Elie says. “I would hardly call us terrifying.”

“What!?” I choke out.

“Why, I think that you are all quite fearsome!” Floon’s irrepressibly cheerful voice booms out. 

I smile at him gratefully. 

“Trollskull Trio it is then, yes?” Vaikner asks jauntily.

Elie shrugs and gives me a wink. Half laughing, half exasperated, I nod my agreement. 

Vaikner turns happily to Renaer, who is describing an interesting book that he is reading about Sembian history. Before long, they are deeply engrossed in their discussion of the text.

“Oh, Elie! I saw George yesterday evening and he asked me to send his greetings to you!” I lean over to Eliana, who is returning from the sideboard with a laden plate.

“You saw George?” She asks with interest, sitting down opposite me. “Where? What was he doing?”

“I stopped by the Yawning Portal last night.” I explain. “He works there now. He told me that Bonnie got him a job there but he would prefer to work at our tavern if we can manage it. He asked that you come and visit him when you can. Said that he starts work at eleven bells today.”

Eliana nods. I note, impressed and only slightly cross, that she has no trouble spearing eggs and popping them in her mouth. 

“Oh, I also met another musician who may be interested in performing at Trollskull when the tavern is ready.” 

I see Elie’s eyes narrow dangerously and hurry to clarify. 

“I did not promise him anything! But it appears that, yes, terms that include payment and food and board are very – attractive.

Anyway, he is a Dwarven bard and seems most gifted. And very – confident. Elegantly dressed and, well, seems like he would greatly appeal to our guests. Especially the guests who like handsome male Dwarves?”

I struggle a little to describe my exact impression of the Dwarf but, seeing Eliana’s mollified face, I believe that I am getting my point across.

Renaer has turned to us as I speak.

“Wait a moment, Elodie.” He now breaks in. “Are you talking about Garmund? Russet hair and beard, very well-groomed. Smooth, seductive, and very aware of it?”

I nod.

“He is a Harper too, you know.” Renaer continues.

“No, this Dwarf was playing a lute.” I stammer, still flustered by the necessity of explaining Garmund’s flirtatious manner to the company at the table.

Renaer’s good-humored laugh makes me realize my mistake.

“Wait, really? A Harper?” I do not hide my surprise.

“Oh, Elodie!” Vaikner mutters, with what I consider an entirely unnecessary and exaggerated eye roll.

Deciding that it would be beneath my dignity to shoot him the scowl that he undoubtedly deserves, I simply turn frostily away from Vaikner and glance at Mirt instead. 

Mirt gives me a quiet nod and I remember what he told me about eyes and ears in many places. I now regret that my conversation with Garmund was so short. And limited to discussing employment for itinerant musicians. I decide that I will try to speak with the Dwarf again soon. If he spends significant time at the Yawning Portal, perhaps he will be able to tell me something useful about Yaghra and her Sun Elf friend.

“Time to talk about your survival. And your future plans!” Mirt speaks loudly, drawing the group’s attention. 

He gestures to Fodder, who has been standing in silent watchfulness in the doorway. The mechanical man now steps forward, bearing a small wooden cask. Mirt takes the chest and reveals its contents to us.

“Here are healing potions. Two for each of you. Consider these a gift for you as newly minted Harpers. They should help you survive for long enough to be of some use.”

Waving off our thanks impatiently, Mirt beckons for Fodder again. This time, a much larger, securely padlocked chest is brought forth by the servant.

“Now, you all came to me, in part, to secure some financial backing for this tavern project of yours. I am wiling to provide you with a loan.” Mirt gestures at the chest. “Here is 1,250Dr.”

An awed hush follows his announcement.

“What – what are the terms?” I manage.

“Ah yes! Keeping me honest, eh?” Mirt chortles, and then his voice turns serious as he flatly recites. “The loan is interest free for one year, after which you will pay 10% per annum on the principle. Your minimum monthly payment will be 50Dr. I imagine that you do not wish to transport this amount of gold through the Deep’s streets yourselves? I will plan on sending the funds directly to Tomaire. Renaer informs me that he will be managing your finances. Are these terms acceptable to you?”

Eliana, Vaikner, and I look briefly at each other, and then, together, we agree to Mirt’s terms.

“Good, good! Now that business is behind us, let us turn to your training.” Mirt calls Fodder forward for the third time.

A delicately carved box of an ash-gray wood is brought forth. Mirt opens the lid. There are two items nestled on a black velvet cushion. The first is a blue gem, set into a silver ring. The second is a small, but intricately wrought, clock-work bird. It is painted in life-like colors and, with delight, I recognize it as an oriole.

“This is a Ring stone.” Mirt explains, setting the blue jewel onto his finger. “It will amplify my voice so that I can give you guidance during your training. And this bird – it will be linked to me and my ring. I will send it out into the yard to observe you and you will hear my voice coming directly from it. With advice and critique. During your tutorial. It will be a toot-oriole, as it were…”

Mirt’s roars of delighted laughter at his own elaborate pun drown out Floon’s equally amused guffaw, as well as the pained groans of Uza and Renaer.

After he has calmed down, Mirt goes on to explain that Uza will be wielding two wands of illusion. This will allow us to simulate the casting of offensive and defensive workings. We will announce what casting we wish to use and Uza will give it the illusion of reality. Without risking the injuries that might occur if we were to truly use the Art in battle training. 

Similarly, all the weapons that we will be using will be dull. Their blades blunted and chalked, so that any hits will be visible and counted against our progress. Sufficient points marked will represent serious enough injury that the fighter will have to leave that round.

The rules as outlined seem clear. Our trio heads down the patio steps and into the training yard. There, we select our weapons from an assortment on a table unveiled by Fodder. I take two short swords and stretch briefly as Mirt describes our task.

“In your first encounter you will be tested against a group of enemies larger than yours. Team-work and strategy will be key here!” 

Mirt points to the scaffolding and, suddenly emerging from multiple hiding spots, a group of strong, growling, scowling Humans strides towards us. They are all armed. Many have bows and some are brandishing clubs. They certainly do appear very intimidating.

“Time to show them how truly terrifying we are!” I shout to Eliana.

“Elodie, you are adorable!” Elie responds.

“Oh, thank you! Wait – what?” I turn to her but she is already running towards a nearby pillar for cover.

Then, with an unexpectedly cheery grin on her face, Eliana turns back to us.

“I know these men!” She calls with glee, waving to the oncoming ruffians. “I recognize some of them from the theater! They are Actors.”

“It does not matter whether or not they are acting!” Mirt’s voice booms out oddly from the golden little bird fluttering near us. “They are your foes and you must find a way to defeat them!”

Still very focused, but perhaps a little less tense than before, I approach the battle ground. 

I decide that it will be useful to boost my companions’ morale. And to provide us with some cover from the archers that we face. I would normally do the former by channeling some of My Lady’s cool strength into a nearby comrade. I ask Uza to provide Vaikner with the heroism this casting would ordinarily draw to him. As for cover, I would usually call up mists from my Goddess, creating a protective cloud around myself and my closest companions. Again, I ask Uza to re-create this effect.

Our training exercise progresses smoothly. Eliana, with Pip back at her side, is steadily shooting down our foes. Vaikner demonstrates creative use of a fire spell to set an enemy alight. Inspired by his example, I ask Uza to create the effect that I would normally achieve by channeling Aerdrie Faenya’s sacred breath to fiery effect. Our enemies react with very gratifying fear and despair. Some of their dramatic dying speeches are a little unrealistically long, but it is still all very thrilling. 

Our company performs well and rapidly dispatches all but two of the troupe of Actor enemies.  These last two run away, shamelessly abandoning their fallen comrades in the field of battle. 

We bask briefly in applause from Mirt and Uza, before noticing that Renaer and Floon have both left the table. Fodder is also nowhere to be seen.

“Well done, well done!” Mirt smiles. “Now, for your next challenge. This time, you will be tested against a group of foes with whom you are perhaps more evenly matched.”

I look around warily, adopting a defensive stance. And see Floon emerge into the training yard! He has changed into long scarlet robes, liberally dusted with golden glittering sequins. He has an odd, cone-shaped hat upon his head and is carrying a long staff.

“I am a wizard!” He calls jovially. “A wizard!”

Following closely behind him is Renaer. He has changed out of his neatly elegant morning suit into a close fitting shirt and breeches. It is similar to the outfit that I am wearing, except that Renaer’s clothing is black and mine is white and gray. I know that this style of dress is tailored for ease of movement and comfort, while not being too restrictive. And is designed with no extraneous fabric that could get caught by a either an enemy’s hand or by a snag in one’s surrounding terrain. Seeing his clothing choice, I am not surprised when Renaer walks to the weapons table and selects a long sword. 

The slight whirring of clockwork and quiet metallic clanks announce our final foe. Fodder marches into the courtyard.  One of his hands is missing. It has been removed and replaced by a sword blade. Sunlight glints off his form as he jerkily takes his place on the field. I feel a thrill of real fear as I gaze at his smooth emotionless face and at the blade attached to his arm.

“So!” Mirt’s amplified voice sounds again. “You are now facing a wielder of the Art. The first priority in such a situation is to eliminate him or her. Attack them before they can create magical havoc among your group!”

“I’m a wizard! Wait? What did you say?!” Floon’s smile vanishes as he turns first to Mirt, then pivots back to see our company take menacing aim at his position.

This time, the battle is fierce and fast-paced. I engage with Fodder early on but I also attempt to magically compel Renaer to duel with me in an effort to keep him from harming my companions. I have spread myself too thin and this limits my ability to meaningfully damage the mechanical man. Still, despite several frustrating failures and with some solid assistance from Vaikner and Pip, I manage to dispatch Fodder! 

Eliana removes Floon from the battle!  He does inflict magical damage on us all first but our trio is clearly pulling ahead. Then, with a polished and deadly attack, Renaer successfully removes Eliana from the fight! Angry at this change in our fortunes, I recklessly charge at Renaer. In my haste, I leave myself open to his return strike. I am defeated too. 

Only Vaikner and Pip remain. They harry Renaer until he is sufficiently injured that Pip manages to bring him down! The battle is over and we are once again victorious!

This has been a useful morning. I have been able to observe my companions and begin to learn how to most effectively combine our various fighting styles. And I have been sharply reminded of the importance of controlling my emotions and of timing my attacks and retreats with more thoughtful precision. Happily, I turn to Mirt to hear what he has in store for us next.

“Well done Trio!” Mirt chortles. “Now, for the third and last battle. In this round, I would like to see how you perform against overwhelming opposition.”

We look nervously at each other and then around at the empty courtyard. Mirt booms on.

“You have only one goal in your final challenge: get my golden cane away from me!”

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I hope that you enjoyed this account of our Trio’s breakfast and battle (eggs and evasive maneuvers? Coffee and combat?) at Mirt’s manor. Any morning with a Floon in it is a good morning! 

For Fodder:

Click Click Boom, Saliva

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