“Alright,” Lilvari said to the others, “let’s try not to draw too much attention.” Everyone agreed.

Mystic used the key she found and unlocked the grate that led out of the sewer. Lilvari went first, holding the drider’s bloody head by the hair in one hand and a three-foot long spider leg in the other. Dare, still dripping with excrement, went next, carrying the unconscious halfling over one shoulder. The others followed. Needless to say, attention was drawn.

Luckily, word of their good deeds had spread, and the worse that happened was a few questions from a patrolling guard.

“What the hell is that?”

“A head.”

“From?”

“The Warrens. We killed the beast.”

The guard looked from Lilvari to Dare and Nazzeth, eyes crinkling. “And is that–“

“Shit,” Lilvari answered.

Dare flicked a bit of something from his armor. “And corn,” Dare added, “but yeah. Mostly shit.”

With that, the guard let them pass. The trek to the Town Hall wasn’t far, maybe ten minutes. The plan was to drop off the head and leg (proof of their victory) as well as drop off the drug-peddling halfling before heading back to The Venturers’ Tavern for much needed rest… and a bath. The sun was beginning to set, and they had plenty of time to do both before their midnight meeting with the drow waitress. A few blocks from their destination, however, the halfling awoke. He struggled free of Dare’s grasp, but since he was tied at the wrists and ankles, he simply fell to the ground with an ummppphh.

The party stopped. Several of them sighed as they watched the halfling wiggle about on the cobblestone street. Finally, he gave up. “Let me go! Please!”

The answer was a simple no, but the halfling wasn’t done trying.

“Please, I can get you in. The Gentleman, he’ll make you rich.”

Team Ramrod looked at each other. Nazzeth shrugged. “I mean, money is good, right?”

Eventually, they decided that it wasn’t worth it. They already had money, and turning the halfling in might be worth even more. Plus, they could interrogate him for information regarding this Gentleman person. That may be worth more still. To shut him up, Lilvari clocked him with the severed head. The halfling again went unconscious.

They met with Lawmaster Kolpepper and Chief Speaker Wanderfoot, who were both very impressed with the group’s talents. As far as the halfling went, the chief speaker decided to lock him away in their holding cells and agreed that Team Ramrod should be part of the interrogation. “Under one condition,” she added. “Others will be present for it. From my understanding, you tend to sometimes get carried away.”

Dare smiled, reminiscing. Ripping that hag’s face apart was the most beautiful experience he’d had in a long time.

Team Ramrod received their reward of 500 gold pieces for slaying the beast of The Warrens and were given 100 gold pieces more for the halfling and the note. Lilvari also handed over The Sight. Before leaving, they had one more matter to discuss: the green dragon of Thundertree.

Both the chief speaker and lawmaster’s faces grew solemn. It was apparent that the dragon was a worry to them as well.

“We can offer our services and take care of the dragon for you,” Lilvari said.

Lawmaster Kolpepper seemed to recognize the benefits at once. “That will definitely help your position with The Order of the Guilded Eye, Chief Speaker Wanderfoot. The more problems you solve for the townsfolk, the more they’ll get behind you.”

The chief speaker was elected by the people. To her, it made no sense that The Order of the Guilded Eye, which served as Helmshold’s protectors, would be controlled by the church. She seemed to think on Kolpepper’s words for several moments before coming to a decision. “I agree, but it would behoove us to let The Holy Watcher in on this. I feel working together with his Order will help our cause.”

So it was settled. She was to meet with Holy Watcher Taman Cithreth tomorrow and promised to update Team Ramrod as soon as there was more information.

The party headed back to The Venturers’ Tavern. Lilvari bought bacon and brought it up to Droop. When Droop answered the door, he was teary-eyed. The goblin had some unfortunate news. He handed Lilvari a letter. It was from Ultorin.

“Friends,

I apologize for the haste in which I must leave, and I apologize for not saying goodbye in person, but it cannot be helped.

Fate has forced my hand in this regard. For the first time in a long time, I have a clue that will hopefully lead to the answers I do so desperately seek, and my next actions are clear. I only pray that fate will some day bring us back together. Good luck in all that you do.

Ultorin“

“That little shit,” Lilvari said. “I was just starting to like him.”

The group was disheartened, but there was still work to do. They all took time to get cleaned up and rest before their meeting with the drow — if she showed.

It was nearing eleven-thirty by the time they made their way back downstairs. As they readied themselves to depart for Fishbarrel, Nazzeth had a strange feeling. It was as if he was being watched. He turned towards the back room. Sitting near the hearth was a sapphire dragonborn. Kassdian, the very brother Nazzeth had come to Helmshold to slay.

Kassidian’s gaze bore coldly into Nazzeth as he slowly stood and made his way over. The wild-haired gnome, Tio, was at his side.

“Why it’s my dear brother,” Kassdian scowled. “What a surprise. So, what brings you to Helmshold?”

“I think you know,” Nazzeth replied bitterly.

“Do I? Hmmm.”

“You do!”

The others could tell Nazzeth was getting heated. They also knew what Nazzeth was planning to do to his brother once he found him. They readied themselves for a fight if it came down to it.

“It has to do with my birthright,” Nazzeth said, biting back his anger, “with what is owed to me! Tell me you won’t stand in my way of it.”

Kassdian stretched calmly. The leather armor he wore — supple and oiled and very expensive — didn’t make a sound as he did so. “I guess we’ll see when the time comes.” For as calm as he was, everyone could see the hatred burning in his eyes towards his brother.

Lilvari offered up some information, maybe to change the subject or maybe to gauge a bit of Kassdian’s character. “That group you’ve been with? The Whisperers? They’re all dead.”

Kassdian’s demeanor didn’t waver. His eyes simply went from Lilvari to the rest of the party and back to Nazzeth. “Pity,” he finally said with a shrug.

“You don’t care? Weren’t they your friends?”

Kassdian chuckled. “Partners for a time, yes. Friends… no. It is a shame though, but it doesn’t affect me one way or another. Sorry to run, but we have business elsewhere, right Tio?”

The gnome nodded. The two of them headed out of the tavern. “Sleep well, brother,” were his final words to Nazzeth.

“Your brother’s a dick,” Lilvari said.

Nazzeth just stared after him.

Midnight Meeting

Team Ramrod made their way South to the Kingsmore district of Helmshold. Here, the roads were dark and narrow, the buildings dilapidated. They stayed close together, not chancing an ambush of any kind. Just shy of midnight, they reached what seemed to be an abandoned market area. Sporadic firelight could be seen in the random windows further down the intersection, but no one was about — no one that they could see, anyway. Ahead of them, just visible in the light of a single torch was a large rectangular building. It too seemed abandoned. A broken sign leaned against it at the base: Fishbarrel. They’d arrived.

Unfortunately, the drow was nowhere in sight. Nazzeth decided to search the nearest side for an entrance. The rest of the group followed. About halfway down, he found one. Only, it was completely barred. Nazzeth closed his eyes and muttered a few arcane words as the group started back towards the front. When he turned around and opened his eyes, he saw something.

“Guys,” he whispered, “There’s a glow… something magical.” He pointed towards the front of the building. “There. Just around the corner.”

They approached slowly, hands near their weapons. Just as they reached the corner, a figure dressed in a dark cloak stepped around and yelped in fright. It was a female’s voice.

“Oh, it’s you!” the figure said from beneath the cloak. She lowered the hood and the party got a glimpse of what Dare had seen earlier — a silver chain tattoo, starting around the drow waitress’s left wrist and winding down her forearm. Her eyes darted nervously about.

“Are you sure you weren’t followed? No one knows you’re here?”

Lilvari, who was in front of the others, answered. “No. We weren’t followed. No one knows we’re here.”

“Okay, good.” The drow took a breath as if to calm herself, then pulled a strange looking stone from her pocket. She began speaking into it. “Quarion? You where you’re supposed to be? Behind the Town Hall?” She paused for a moment as if waiting for an answer before continuing. “Good. Now listen. I’m here. I just met them. I’ll see you soon. Then we can get the hell out of here.” She put the stone away then looked towards the group.

“Alright,” she said to them, “I’ll make this quick. First, this man you seek, the man in green. He’s dangerous… and he’s got protection. Know that. His name is Aust and he’s in with the–“

Her mouth continued to move, but no words came out. She seemed to realize this a moment later. Her eyes went wide, her light-purple skin went nearly white. Lilvari was close enough to understand what she mouthed next: “Oh Gods! He found me!”

Before they could react, a zipping sound raced past their ears, and suddenly, the drow’s throat exploded in a mess of not just blood but a strange black inky substance, some of which splattered on Lilvari’s face. The spots where the black substance had landed — her cheek, chin and neck — began tingling and then went numb. The drow fell where she stood. The wound in her neck turned a viscous black. As soon as she hit the ground there was a loud zapping sound. The silver tattoo disappeared in an instant. The group looked down at her, unable to process what had just happened. Dare was the only one who spoke, and what he said summed it up nicely: “What the fuck?”

Protruding from the drow’s neck was an arrow with familiar red and white feathers. Lilvari had plucked a similar arrow from the side of the wagon on the side of the road while on their way to Helmshold. That wagon had been destined for Neverwinter but ambushed before it arrived. Everyone on board had been killed. It was the same wagon that may have held Grista Corg, the dwarf who’d been charged with poisoning the dozen or so people in Phandalin. Team Ramrod’s reason for going to Helmshold in the first place was to find more information about who might have really committed the murders. Could the matching arrows simply be a coincidence?

They’d worry about that later. Now, they had to find who did this before they got away. Team Ramrod began searching. As they spread out, listening and watching the shadows, Mercarri heard something. It sounded like someone taking a step. “Up there!” She pointed towards the roof of the nearest cottage. Nazzeth immediately flew up in that direction, hovering about ten feet above the roof, but didn’t see anything or anyone.

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

“I heard it too,” Mystic said. She quickly turned towards Fishbarrel, which was to her left. “And up there too! Fluttering! Just now! Did you hear that?”

No one did, but the party decided to split up. Mercarri and Mystic headed towards Fishbarrel while the others neared the cottage Nazzeth was currently flying above. Lilvari reached the roof first. Nazzeth was peering deeper into the shadows below. “I swear I don’t see any–“

Suddenly, Nazzeth dropped to the roof like a stone. Lilvari thought she glimpsed an arrow hitting him right in the chest a moment before. Great, she thought. She could already hear everyone going back and forth with whether or not to heal him. But as it turned out, they didn’t need to. After a moment, Nazzeth sucked in a breath and came to. He pulled the arrow from his chest. It hadn’t gone deep into the armor. With the help of his Gloves of Missile Snaring, he nearly stopped it from going in at all, but the pain! There was a deep burning sensation radiating from the wound… as well as a black inky substance. Whatever poison laced the arrowhead, it was potent.

There was more movement — the sound of someone fleeing. At the same time, Lilvari looked over to see an owl rushing towards her from the other direction — from the roof of Fishbarrel. It fluttered in her face before taking off again. Lilvari cast an Eldritch Blast, turning it into a puff a feathers that slowly floated to the ground.

“I really hope that was that asshole’s bird and not just some random one,” she said and started over the roof to where Nazzeth lay. She was just in time to see someone jump down to the ground below.

Meanwhile, Mercarri and Mystic climbed up the side of Fishbarrel. Mystic cast Moonbeam and blindly sent it up first. No screams of pain, no sound of movement. Moments later, Mercarri reached the top and confirmed that no one else was there.

Dare ran at the building towards Lilvari and, using his Boots of Striding and Springing, he easily jumped to the roof. Lilvari had already followed the villain, whoever he was, off the opposite side. In her hands was the Goat Staff of Maglubiyet. It glowed with a dark and sinister power, and she channeled everything she had into it as she slammed it across his back, not once but twice. The assassin went down hard.

“Now that I got your attention,” Lilvari said, “was that your owl?”

There was no answer. The assassin was too busy coughing up blood. From atop the roof Dare squeezed off a crossbow bolt, but it sailed wide, almost hitting Lilvari. Mystic guided her moonbeam towards where the action was. Nazzeth, still prone, cast Toll the Dead. The man on the ground screamed in pain, but still he managed to rise. It was then that they saw who they were dealing with. It was the man in green.

In less than an instant, he pulled a short sword seemingly from nowhere and slashed at Lilvari with amazing speed. She managed to dodge the first attack but not the second. A deep pain burned from within her gut. His sword, too, seemed to be poisoned. She felt it spreading throughout her body.

It seemed as if this battle may not quite be over after all.