Back at Donnelly’s

“Umm… is he okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” Lilvari replied.

“Yeah, okay well, he’s bleeding all over my floor. I don’t want to sound like a jerk, but do you think you can…” The young woman nodded over to the direction of Nazzeth who was face down on the floor. Many of Nazzeth’s scales were singed or had melted away from the dragon’s acid breath, exposing the blistered, red flesh beneath, and he had quite the gash on the back of his head.

Mystic mumbled an apology as she touched Nazzeth’s arm. Healing magic swallowed him in a bright yellow glow. The wound on his head closed, and the scales reformed.

He jolted awake and groaned. “What happened?”

“The usual,” Dare said. “You know, one shot and done.”

Nazzeth slowly sat up and looked around, confused. “How’d we get back here?”

“It’s a long story,” Mercarri said.

“And actually,” Lilvari added, “where is ‘here‘?”

This was obviously a store of some kind. The shelves were jammed-packed with adventuring gear, and crates littered the floor. Before Lilvari and the others were snatched up and brought to that dragon’s lair, she and Dare were just leaving Boog’s stable. “Are we still in Maykle?

“Yep, you’re still in Maykle,” said the young woman. “And this is my store — Donnelly’s General. My name’s Quinn, and I sell all kinds of one-of-a-kind stuff.”

“Like what?” Lilvari asked.

Quinn smiled. She had wild hair that didn’t quite reach her shoulders. Between the wicked-wide smile and the aviator glasses, she looked like a giant bug.

In the end, she sold both Mercarri and Dare fifty feet of rope. She then pulled out a folded apron from inside a crate. It was dripping. Nazzeth, remembering the apron from last time, ducked behind Mystic just as Quinn flapped it open. Blood droplets hit those in front — Mystic, Dare and Mercarri.

“Ugh, it got in my mouth,” Dare said. He started spitting on the floor.

“Sorry,” Quinn said. She handed them a few oily rags to clean up with, and as they did, she explained what this particular item, the butcher’s bib, did. “When you wear it, you’ll be able to hit your enemies harder.”

“I think it’d look good on you,” Mystic said to Dare, smiling.

“Meh, I don’t know,” Dare replied. “It’s kinda gross. Is there a way to get it to stop bleeding?”

Quinn shrugged. “Not that I know of.”

“How much is it?”

“Three hundred and fifty gold pieces.”

Dare’s eyes went wide.

“Come on,” Mercarri said. “It looks bad ass.”

Everyone agreed, especially Quinn. Dare picked up on her hidden motives.

“If I said no, it would just sit here, bleeding all over the place, wouldn’t it.” he said.

“I mean, I guess.”

“So, I’d be doing you a favor by taking it, right?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I suppose.”

“I’ll give you one-fifty.”

She sighed. “Fine.” She took his money, and he took the bleeding apron, holding it arms length.

“It’s still freakin’ gross,” he said as they started making their way out.

Just before reaching the trap door that headed down to the street below, Lilvari turned back to Quinn. “You don’t happen to sell gilded flowers, do you? You know, flowers dipped in gold?”

Quinn didn’t but was able to recommend a few jewelers in town who might.

Donnelly’s General Store sat at the top of a large tree. So they had to get down by descending a twenty foot rope ladder. Once they reached the bottom, Mystic asked Lilvari, “What do you need a gilded flower for?”

Lilvari shrugged. “Just some magic thing I’m working on.”

Abigale’s Toy Store

The group split up. Lilvari went looking for a jewelry store while the rest of the group headed towards the nearest tavern. On the way, Nazzeth spotted a narrow two-story building that had strange smoke coming from the chimney and second-story windows. The smoke wasn’t normal colored smoke. This smoke alternated between yellow, blue, violet and black.

The wooden sign hanging over the entrance was in the shape of a rocking horse. A pronounced ‘A’ was engraved on the horse’s rump. Nazzeth went in while everyone else waited outside.

The interior was lined with shelves filled with toys and games and other strange antiquities, most of them dusty with age. An elven boy and his younger sister stood near a shelf full of bins. She was showing him a nesting doll that was in the shape of a bird, had in fact just opened the outermost doll. “You have to see this!” she told her brother. She opened doll after doll until she got to the one in the center. Instead of a small version of the outermost bird, it was the mummified corpse of what appeared to be a real bird.

The boy gave her a look of disgust. “Maybe we should get something else.” He took the nesting dolls, closed them all up and walked them over to a bin near the main counter. That’s when Nazzeth saw the woman behind the counter — a tall, pale woman with long, straggly black hair and gray eyes. She smiled at the boy and then at Nazzeth.

“Welcome to my toy store. My name’s Abigale Stronghold.”

“Thanks,” replied Nazzeth. “I’m Nazzeth. Nazzeth Skyven.

“Are you looking for anything special?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “What do you have?” Some of the toys sitting around the room looked interesting, but what he was really interested in was the colorful smoke that he saw from outside.

A bar of light appeared behind him as the girl and boy left the store. Nazzeth glanced back before stepping up to the counter.

Abigale showed him a few items that were very strange — a headless doll that came with sack full of attachable heads, including one with its eyes and mouth stitched shut, a miniature gallows — complete with trap door and weighted hangman among them. “And,” she said, bending down behind the counter, “I have these.”

She placed two identical porcelain dolls on the counter. Each was about the size of Nazzeth’s arm. They had curly brown hair, were wearing puffy flowered dresses and were riding unicycles. Most disturbing was the six inch sewing needle they held in their hands. Nazzeth looked to the dolls and back to Abigale.

“I think these dolls were meant for you,” she said. “I can feel it. I’ll tell you what, if you take them, I’ll just charge you a single copper. You know, just to make it a true, legal sale.”

Nazzeth picked up one of the dolls. A chill ran down his spine. Something was definitely off about it. “Why do you think it was meant for me?”

Abigale gave a small, forced laugh. “I don’t know. Intuition I guess.”

“Nazzeth silently cast Detect Magic on the dolls, expecting to see some sort of glow, but there was none. In fact, nothing in the immediate area around him glowed. But then he happened to look up. Somewhere upstairs, four separate objects glowed brightly with a magical aura. They were large, whatever they were — bigger than him and strangely enough, they were moving.

“So, will you buy them?”

“What’s upstairs?” he asked.

“Upstairs?”

“Yeah. Do you have anything for sale upstairs?”

She looked up, the same direction in which Nazzeth was looking. “Storage mostly,” she said. “It’s also where I make my wares.”

“Can I see it?”

“No, sorry. It’s off limits to the public.”

He didn’t push it. Maybe there was some other way to see what was up there without Abigale knowing. For now, he had something else to hold his interest: The dolls. “Tell me, Abigale. What’s wrong with these dolls. I know that you want to get rid of them really badly. I can sense it.”

Her eyes went glassy, as if they might suddenly spill over with tears. “To be honest, they frighten me. I just want them out of the store. But no one will buy them.”

She told him that sometimes, she swears that they talk to her in her sleep, asking her to play with them.

“Why don’t you just throw them out?”

“I tried,” she said, biting back tears, “but then, in a day or two, they somehow find themselves back on my shelves.”

Nazzeth was beyond intrigued. He handed Abigale two copper pieces. She thanked him profusely as he left the store.

Dare, Mystic and Mercarri were still outside waiting. “Umm… really?” Dare said. “Dolls?”

“It’s a long story,” Nazzeth said as he continued up the road.

The Gilded Flower

Lilvari passed all manner of villagers as she looked for a jewelry store, not just humans and elves but orcs, hobgoblins, halfings and a myriad of other races too. It was a welcomed changed from Helmshold where all but a select few races were treated like scum. Even she and Dare hadn’t escaped it.

Despite the diversity before her, Lilvari wasn’t expecting to see an ogre. Over eight feet tall and easily three times her size, it was sitting right besides the entrance to the jewelry store. It was dressed in a black leather vest and dark, stylish pants, watching villagers as they passed. Lilvari forced herself to walk towards the store. The ogre gave her a nod.

“Good day to you,” it said in broken Common.

Lilvari smiled, trying hard not to show her surprise. “Same to you,” she said as she headed inside.

The main area of the store was brightly lit. Jewelry gleamed behind numerous glass counters. There were several customers — all of them dressed very nicely, like they belonged in a place like this. She approached the human man behind the counter. “How can I help you, miss?”

“Hi,” she said, “I was wondering if you sold gilded flowers.”

She could tell by the look on his face that he didn’t have good news.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any at the moment.”

“But you do sell them?”

“Actually, I make them. But yes, I sell them. When I have them, that is.”

“Can you make some more now?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, I’m out of one particular and necessary ingredient.”

“Which is?”

“Flail Snail excretion.”

When Lilvari only blinked at him, he explained further. “Flail Snails. They’re these gigantic snails that originated in the feywild. Beautiful creatures. They have shells that are more colorful than rainbows. Anyway, they leave a trail of slime, which I then use to prep the flowers. If the flowers aren’t lathered in this excretion, they disintegrate the moment they comes in contact with the melted gold. I’d love to get more of this excretion. Gilded flowers are very profitable, but I just don’t have the time.”

“What if I got it for you?” Lilvari asked.

The man crossed his arms as he looked her up and down. “Flail Snails are pretty dangerous,” he said, “and they’re not easy to track down.”

Lilvari thought back to the day she had. Less than an hour ago, she was standing toe to toe with a thirty-foot-tall black dragon. “I think I could handle a snail,” she said. “Besides, it wouldn’t be just me. I have a few others that would gladly help.”

The jeweler stroked his moustache as he thought it through. “I’ll tell you what,” he finally said, “I’ll send one of my apprentices with you. He can help track the snail. In return for your services, I’d make the gilded flower for free. All it would cost you would be the three hundred gold that needs to be melted down.

“Who is this… apprentice?” Lilvari asked. She really didn’t want to be responsible for another life.

The jeweler turned towards the closed curtain behind him. “Rip Rip!” he called. A bird-like creature with black feathers and wearing a deep burgundy cloak hobbled out. The creature was maybe four-feet tall, had a beak and talons but instead of wings, it had lightly feathered arms.

“This is Rip Rip,” the jeweler said.

“Rip Rip,” repeated the creature. If Lilvari wasn’t mistaken, this was a Kenku, a creature that specializes in mimicry.

“He can lead you to the Flail Snails,” the jeweler said, “and he can hold his own if it came down to it. Right Rip Rip?”

“If it came down to it,” repeated Rip Rip, pulling a short sword from his cloak.

“Fair enough,” Livari said. “Let me talk to the others. I’ll be back.”

With that, she left the jeweler, said goodbye to the ogre and made her way towards Maykle’s closest tavern.

Two Doors Tavern

Dare was outside, standing in front of a sign post. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to do.

“What’s it say?” Mystic asked. “Can you move out of the way?”

Dare scratched his head. “It says ‘Left Siders: Those with pointy ears. Right Siders: All others.'”

Dare looked to the left and to the right. Two doors — one to his far left and one to his far right, each one separated by about two-hundred feet. They both seemed to be entrances to the tavern — the widest tavern Dare had ever seen, by the way.

The others pushed around Dare to see for themselves. After reading it, Mystic let out a ‘hummpppfff’. “A little racist, aren’t they?”

“Meh, whatever,” Dare said. “I just want a drink.” He started walking towards the left entrance. Everyone followed.

Inside, they saw that the tavern was cut in two equally sized parts. Separating the parts were two long bar tables. In between them, an elf was working quickly, serving drinks to patrons on either side. Mystic noticed that none of the patrons on the other side had pointed ears.

On this side of the bar, the left side, there were a handful of patrons scattered around the various tables. Among them were goblins, elves, an orc and even an ogre. The ogre’s little marble eyes went from Mystic to Dare and then to Mercarri and Nazzeth. That’s when it slowly pushed itself up from its stood. The stool squawked against the wooden floor. “I think you on wrong side,” it said to Nazzeth and Mercarri in broken Common.

“What does it matter?” scolded Mystic.

“Mystic, it’s fine,” Nazzeth said. He was still woozy from the fight with the dragon — they all were. Taking on a whole tavern of angry, drunk wouldn’t be the best idea.

“Mr. Ogre,” Mercarri asked, “Can you tell us why we’re supposed to be separated?”

“Oh!” The ogre seemed to grow suddenly excited. A bit of drool fell from its mouth, joining a small puddle that had formed on the table. “You never be here before?”

Team Ramrod shook their heads.

“You in for treat. It start soon.”

“What starts soon?” Dare asked.

“You’ll see. Just get to right side.”

Lilvari joined them in the tavern a short time later, entering through the Left Siders entrance. She found Mystic and Dare sitting at one of the tables. Mercarri and Nazzeth were sitting on the other side by themselves. Dare filled her in on what the ogre had said.

“So what’s supposed to happen?”

Just as Lilvari asked the question, a bell started ringing loudly. Conversations across the tavern ceased. All eyes turned towards the center of the room, to the flamboyantly dressed elf standing between the two bars. He was holding a bell and smiling grandly. “Ladies and gentleman, for those who don’t know me, I am Noon Fantasia.” He gave an enormous bow. “Welcome to Two Doors Tavern. Now that the formalities have been taken care of, I think it’s time FOR A REVEL!”

The tavern erupted into cheers, while Team Ramrod just looked at each other.

“What in the nine hells is a revel?” Dare asked.

Everyone else was intently watching Noon. Noon was holding an upturned hat and was digging inside it for something. A moment later, he pulled out a slip of parchment. He looked at it, then put it to his chest and smiled. “Ladies and gentleman. The revel is – SHEEP RIDING!”

Again, more cheers. There was a loud rumble as the two long bar tables lowered into the ground. They didn’t stop until they were flush with the wooden floor. What were a few moments ago two separate taverns was now one large room. Noon raised his hands into the air. There was a sparkle and then a flash. Suddenly, a large sheep with gold-colored wool appeared in the center of the room. A large pink bow was on its head.

“Pick three from each side,” Noon said loudly. “Each will take a turn riding Biffy.”

“Biffy?” Nazzeth said to Dare. Dare shrugged, entranced by the spectacle before them.

“Whichever side can stay on Biffy the longest will win the revel — one hundred gold a piece and free ale until the next revel!”

Both sides discussed who would ride Biffy the golden sheep. For the Left Siders, it was to be the ogre, Mystic and Lilvari. For the Right Siders — Mercarri, a Kenku and Nazzeth.

“First up, we have Murph!” said Noon Fantasia.

The ogre stood and stomped towards the sheep while everyone cheered. Lilvari swore she saw the sheep’s legs shaking in fear. The ogre put one leg over the sheep and then the other. When it sat, the sheep’s legs nearly buckled, but then it managed to give a healthy kick in the air. Murp’s eyes went wide. It put one thick arm in the air and cried out, “Yee Haw!” as the sheep made slow circles (which was the best it could do) in the middle of the room. It wasn’t until the ogre got too confident and waved wildly to the crowd with both hands did the sheep buck it off. The ogre landed on its head, its ass end high in the air. The ogre’s loin cloth had landed somewhere else. Everyone was looking away but Dare. He nudged Lilvari with his elbow. “Now that’s entertainment!”

There was a bad taste in Lilvari’s mouth that had nothing to do with the liquor. She thought it might be bile.

“Next, it’s the Right Sider’s turn,” yelled Noon. “First, we have Mercarri!”

Mercarri, quickly walked over to Biffy, looking anxious. She paused when she noticed a brown shit stain on its back left over from the ogre. “Umm.”

“Sorry, my dear,” Noon said. He raised his hands again and cast Prestidigitation. The stain vanished, and she got on the sheep’s back. Biffy made several full spins, kicking and bucking. Mercarri managed to stay on for quite some time before getting knocked off.

Next it was Mystic’s turn for the Left Siders. She did something that no one else bothered to do: She treated Biffy with love and respect, as any druid would. She walked over to it, keeping eye contact the entire time and then pet its head gently. Biffy nudged her and licked her palm. “That’s it,” she said calmly. “Now I’m going to hop up. Be nice, okay?”

The sheep baaed as if it understood. Mystic sat on top and looked around. Everyone was on their feet, a mug of ale in their hand — well, everyone except Nazzeth. He was sitting at the table, his jars of paint out. He was painting something directly onto the table. It looked kind of like a saddle. Biffy started bucking, bringing Mystic back to the task at hand. But the bucking didn’t seem to be as strong as it was for the others. After a few seconds, Noon noticed.

“Biffy! Come now, you have to make it fair.”

Biffy baaed then kicked out with its front legs while doing a half spin. Mystic couldn’t hold on. After only a total of six seconds, she was out.

Next it was the Kenku’s turn for the Right Siders. Before he approached Biffy, Nazzeth handed him a saddle. “Try this,” he said.

“Try this” the Kenku repeated, taking the saddle. The Kenku sneaked towards Biffy, saddle raised. It got one strap around Biffy’s midsection when the sheep kicked out hard, striking the Kenku in the chest. It flew back a dozen feet and into a table. The Kenku didn’t get up.

“I think that’s a new record for shortest time,” Noon said. Everyone laughed. Nazzeth sat back down at his table and quickly put away his paints before anyone could notice. So the saddle idea was a bust. That was alright. He had another idea.

“Anyway, nice try,” said Noon. “And now, going last for the Left Siders, Lilvari!”

Lilvari sighed as she approached Biffy. “Okay Biffy, let’s be nice alright?”

Biffy just stared at Lilvari with its little black eyes. The bow on its head was adorable. How could anything so cute be so vicious? Once atop of the sheep, she tried to pet it as Mystic had done, but the sheep head butted her. Lilvari managed to hang on through its kicks and dips. After a few twists and turns, she felt the sheep’s rhythm and was able to anticipate its movement. She had this. She knew it. She saw Mercarri from the corner of her eye. Mercarri had a hand to her bruised head — where she’d hit it when she got kicked off BIffy. Livari gave her a smile and followed it up with a middle finger, and in that one brief instant of letting go, she lost her balance. Biffy kicked her off. The Left Siders groaned. The Right Siders cheered.

Last for the Right Siders was Nazzeth. Instead of heading towards Biffy, he headed towards Noon. “What are the rules?”

“Rules?” Noon scoffed. “Don’t fall off!”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it!”

Perfect, Nazzeth thought.

Just as he hopped on top of Biffy, He cast levitate. Biffy let out a loud ‘BAAAAAA’ as it began floating. It kicked and kicked, but wasn’t able to find purchase. Nazzeth waved to the crowd with ease. All he got were boos.

“That’s not fair!” someone yelled.

“Do it like a real man!” cried someone else.

Nazzeth wanted to win, but he didn’t want to face a mob of angry patrons. He squeezed the sheep between his legs and twisted. He was hoping to at least make it appear like a challenge. But the sheep started spinning too fast, and Nazzeth lost control. The sheep flipped upside down. Nazzeth couldn’t hang on. He fell to the ground, which ended up only being about a ten inches, given his height.

Noon again raised his hands, and Biffy disappeared with a loud ‘POP!’ The two bar tables rose from the floor, cutting the large room in half.

“Ladies and gentleman!” Noon called out. He waited for the crowd to go silent before continuing. “Thus concludes the revel, and I believe we have a winner!”

He looked down the parchment in his hand and appeared to be doing some quick mental math. “For holding onto Biffy for a combined time of fifty-four seconds, the winner of this revel is… THE LEFT SIDERS!”

The crowd went wild.