A Wizard in Need...

On the first of Flamerule, I found myself in the peculiar community of Bug Tussle enjoying a meal at the Fighter's Own.

My residence is in a tower under construction in the Dagger Hills, but business brought me here. I'd paid to aquire an item which would help me retrieve some property taken from me long ago.

My agent had not yet arrived, and so I took the opportunity to dine on shepard's pie with Halfling mushroom pudding as a side dish, and a pint of fennel spiced wine. While eating, I carefully took in my surroundings. Galen was not there, but his pet troll Bertrum was sitting in a dark corner humming to himself as he drank his dark mead. Garunth, the giant who works as a bouncer, kept an eye on any trouble, ready to stop any before it arises.

An attractive woman in the tightly fitting clothing of a thief entered wearing a radiant smile ready to celebrate the completion of some new level of training attained. She spoke with the bartender, someone named Markus, about needing to move out of Hairfoot's Barefoot Inn because she would have to start paying rent now that her training was completed.

The bartering over long term rentals at the Fighter's Own grew wearisome so I turned my attention to a brightly dressed priest of Gond seated impatiently at a nearby table bending the ear of everyone who came near about how wonderful Lantan is this time of year, especially by comparison to this backwater. If it weren't for the curiosity over his obviously mechancial companion, I don't think anyone would have tolerated the man. The strange being clicked and whirred, was as large as a barbarian chieftain, and one hand ended in a cruel looking swordblade. Its eyes glowed red and its head constantly surveyed the room looking for any sign of danger or threat. It was no mere golem, this was certain, because it clearly posessed its own unique intelligence. The priest, whose name I gathered was Routunious (but I heard more than one patron jokingly refer to him as "Rotundious"!), was asking after a gnome named Stago Wimsicalamity.

I was not alone in watching the odd pair, far from it, but no one else in the room scrutinized them as closely as I save for a grim faced female elf who, by the look of her, was a ranger who may have been tracking them for some time.

The rest of the room was full of the normal hubbub of any given night in Bug Tussle.

Before too very long a well dressed man in a green turban entered the bar and try as he might, he could not out pace or ignore the yapping young gnome nipping at his heels and trying to convince him to do several things at once. What I could make out was that this gnome wanted to be trained as a magic user, to write a book which he could sell in the man's bookstore, to trade books he'd bought for books he hadn't yet read, and to have a few free drinks.

Fortunately for me, my agent arrived and I paid her for the rolled scrap of parchment she had come here to sell me. I turned my attention from the other patrons, and became absorbed in examining the map she had delivered.

At some point the mechanical man must have caught the attention of the gnome, for when I looked up again the gnome was speaking with the priest, and seated at their table. I overheard Routunious inform Stago that the gnome's father had been living for some years in the temple to Gond in Lantan, but had recently passed away. Routunious told Stago that he was in possession of the personal effects of Stago's father and had been charged with delivering them to the family. Stago had been left his father's spell book, which contained all the standard first level wizard spells and a large bag of coins totalling 1000 gold pieces in value. The coins are to be given to Stago's mother.

I was so engrossed in listening to the conversation without being observed that I did not notice when the waitress, a dark haired young woman whose beauty is only sligthly marred by crooked teeth, cleared my table. In horror I glanced at the empty table and realized my map was missing!

I regret now that I lost my temper and accused the waitress of stealing it and we got into a loud argument when she denied it. The fighting attracted everyone's attention, but I needed that item greatly, and had paid dearly to obtain it.

Nicole, that was the poor girl's name, suggested that perhaps it had been thrown away with his unfinished food when she cleared the table. All the garbage is tossed down a chute which empties into the Undertavern tunnels to feed whatever might be down there.

Most of the patrons turned back to their own affairs, but four offered their assistance. They were the pretty thief, the elven ranger, the talkative gnome and, somewhat reluctantly, the large priest. They introduced themselves as Selina, Elissaria, Stago, and Routunious respectively.

After examining the chute, Selina attempted to slip through it but became stuck. The others pulled her free. I sensed that they needed incentive, and I offered a 500 gold reward for the return of my map. They inquired after the tunnels below the tavern and were told many tales of what lies below.

A dwarf at the barwith a heavy mug of dark beer said, “As anyone with any passing familiarity with Shadowdale knows, the whole of the dalelands is crisscrossed beneath its soil by a subterranean labyrinth which connects to the Underdark and the territories of the Drow. The area under this town...by the Nine Hells, the area under this tavern, is no exception. The topmost level of the catacomb system exist directly below where yer is sittin’ right now. The crazy bastard what owns this place says he’s sealed them up safe and it ain’t no threat to anyone but what goes after his treasure. Who knows if he’s telling the truth? I’m not to be paying a gold piece to find out it’s a damned lie and a joke on my poor soul!”

“The Fighter’s Own tavern and access to the lower levels have been sealed up by Galen. He’s not that crazy. I understand that the upper level is fairly small and not too dangerous to anyone but the greenest of fighters. But then, truth be told, I’ve not seen too many come out what went in. Still, them that came out had no trouble paying the toll, and bought plenty of rounds for everyone in the place with what they come out with. There’s monsters, to be sure, but I’m guessing there’s plenty of booty, too. Look at all the money being spent in here tonight. Where do you think it goes? Galen don’t spend it, what’s he want he don’t already have? So it all goes down there...every night, every copper. Think of it, lads!”

“Be careful if ye go, it costs to go down and ten times as much to come back up, and Galen never ever lets anyone up who can’t pay--he’s watched a troll kill a man who couldn’t pay, and then laughed as the troll picked his teeth with the man’s broken leg bone.”

I offered to pay the fees for going down and coming back up--if they came back up with the map--in addition to the reward money. Stago, being frugal, suggests that even if they go down through the well, they might not be able to find their way to where the garbage chute empties out.

"If we're chasing the map, isn't it the best idea to follow the map?" He asked, and began tying a rope around his chest. He fit easily through the trap door and Elessaria lowered him slowly down the chute. After descending in that manner for a length of 40 feet, he was able to spy the crumpled and stained parchment atop a quivering pile of garbage and moldering offal.

This most unusual gnome was carrying in his backpack a live chicken. This turned out to be most fortuitous. As he reached out to grab the map, several tentacles snapped up from the pile and reached toward him. He managed to dodge their embrace and tossed his clucking cargo onto the pile instead. Before the bird touched down it was entwined in the tentacles of a carrion crawler. With the monster thus distracted, the gnome nimbly plucked the map from the garbage heap and called for Elessaria to begin drawing him back up to the tavern level.

With the map safely back in my hands, I thanked the group and introduced myself to them. After counting out the well deserved reward, I left the tavern and began the journey back to my tower with great haste.

As I understand it, after I left it wasn't long before Galen returned. Upon hearing the story of the map, and that I had been the patron involved in this incident, the retired fighter related some of his knowledge of me and the adventures of the Hopeful Seven which led to the founding of the town.

Stago told Routunious that he would take the gold coins to his mother, but either out of mistrust or a sincere desire to deliver the gold personally, Routunious says that he must give the money to Stago's mother himself. Stago said he would guide the priest to the village but not at night. Even in the daytime the trip is dangerous.

The thief and the elf offered to assist in the transfer of the estate and everyone agreed to meet at the Green Rajah's bookstore the following day at high sun.

Selina arranges for her new lodging at the FIghter's Own, Elessaria also takes a room there. Routunious desires lodging more suitable for a person of his station, so Selina, who still has at least one night remaining at Hairfoot's, guided the priest and his mechanical man there. Routunious pays Groot for a month's lodging in advance.

Stago, happy his dodge to get a little time to think this through on his own worked so easily, dashed home alone through the dark along the very familiar path, to give his mother the news!