As told by Imp, Half-Orc Paladin, and recorded by the scribe,Aelric
Arc One
III.
The cart-horses galloped off, headed far from Honiesale and its chaotic happenings. Now fully reunited the Party was set to return to Athkatla to speak with Galathor about all they had experienced within the small town full of scheming militias. No one was prepared for the trouble that their first adventure had wrought.
Vadania was back, sporting a hefty bruise on her forehead curtsy of the Flying Boars. The control of Honiesale had gone to these militia types all vying for control. Damien and Vedanta had attempted to speak with the Magistrate to no avail, before heading off to collect the rest of the party and escape from the looming chaos and trouble within the village. Something was going on here that was far above their pay grade(15).
Damien asserted that it was crucial that they return to the guild immediately to speak with Galathor, assuring that while he was pompous he was certainly not corrupted. Discussion about the matter was halted, however, as the forest began to awaken with the noise of impending trouble. The horses startled at the sound, capsizing their cart and taking themselves down with it.
In their nimbleness Shadow and Shawn were able to escape from the wreckage, Shadow even going as far as to drag Imp’s hulking form from the cart to throw him into the fray. Drakon was, unfortunately, fully caught in the wreckage of the horsecars. Large bodies such as those of the party’s paladins were meant to wreck carts, not escape them.
In their path, a gaggle of Goblins had appeared. Among them, one stood in ill-fitting golden armor marking him as the leader of the band. As one could likely expect, they weren’t pleased with the stealing of the axebeak. However, it should be noted, that if one is a their they should also expect to be stolen from. Imp thought that in the least they didn’t return the creature to the Magistrate so they shouldn’t be too upset.
With coverage from the collapsed cart that Damien was working on righting, Shadow managed to kill the first of what soon became many in this small goblin militia. Arrows were flying everywhere from both sides as Goblin archers, as well as a mage, appeared off in the bushes in an attempt to ambush the party.
That is until three mysterious figures in red cloaks appeared, also wanting to take the axebeak(16). With the appearance of these cloaked figures, many of the goblins lost their edge and made a run for it back through the trees, while a handful remained and turned much of their attention to the newly established threat of these Warlocks.
Of course, three groups trading blows wasn’t enough of a chaotic scuffle. There needed to be yet another antagonistic group added to the fray.
Enter the Flying Boars, including two members armed on horseback prepared for a chase.
Damien manned to free and settle the horses, righting the cart and readying it for the party to make their escape once the opportunity presented itself.
In the presence of the Flying Boars Shawn, recognizing that his innate magical abilities made him a target, fell to his own nerves, transforming into a single, potted rose. Additionally, whether it be the chaos of the moment or the small size of many of his opponents Imp lamented that he struggled to land a single hit on his opponents until he finally managed to take one of the Flying Boars from their mount with his curved sickles.
However, one of the Boars had managed to land a hit on Damien, striking him through the thigh of his pegged leg. The gift continued on as another Warlock was felled and the Boars called out for reinforcements. With Damien’s injury and the looming threat of more combatants, the party took their opportunity to escape, piling back into the cart and collecting the Boar’s lost horses.
They rushed back to Athkatla, stabilizing Damien and licking their wounds as they took shifts through the night. The threat of battle fading off into the distance.
Finally, come the morning, the gleaming alabaster city of Athkatla sits on the horizon. It seemed that the party had finally made it to safety and could relax when yet again a robed figure blocked their path.
Standing at nearly nine feet tall and wearing an elaborately embroidered crimson cloak this figure was notably different from the trio of warlocks the Party had encountered the day prior. Also different is that they didn’t have an eye for the little axebeak, but for Damien. Who they promptly paralyzed and disappeared with before anyone was able to react.
Without their mentor and unsure of how to proceed or who to trust the party finally returned to Athkatla. Despite this city being their home for many years as they trained with the Adventurer’s Guild, the group was wary after their experiences in Honiesale. They knew it was imperative that they speak with Galathor, but the city guards’ insistence on one of their own accompanying the party through their own city didn’t sit right with them. So, as they often did, they first chose to stop at a tavern to enjoy its comforts, gain information, and hopefully lose their guard.
The Green Dragon is ginormous, hosting travelers from all over the realm whether their business be trade, work, or leisure. Under the care of the head bartender Layton, the party settled around the tavern to either enjoy themselves or attempt to glean information about the current state of the city and, more importantly, about Galathor.
As is typical when traveling with a notable bard such as Cleira, Layton invited him to take over for the rather lackluster talent of the current entertainment. Never one to turn down the opportunity for a show, Cleira pulled a pinecone from his pocket and proceeded to give the performance of a lifetime.
Meanwhile, finding a pair of fellow guild members within, Imp listens in as Kaldur engages the pair in conversation to gain information.
The information gathered is as follows:
Galathor is one of a kind (no kidding)
Galathor has been very upset as of late
He has largely stayed holed up in his study with Fargrim (the dwarf)
Finding Galathor isn’t the issue, it’s getting him to do what you want him to
Merchant Houses have been rumbling. They’re vying for a bigger piece of the pie. Mancliff vs. Greyblade vs. Adventurers’ Guild
As the Party enjoys their momentary respite whilst scouting, they noticed that the drinking is flowing and freely given—too freely given. The Honiesale mead flows through the hall like water, leaving many members cautious of what its contents may be imbued with.
It should be noted that in one of his many conversations with his new friends, Shawn allowed a glimpse into the process of the mead that had been quickly growing in fame. It appears that part of the brewing process involves what is known as Opossum Spores—spores that occur on the corpses of possums that are then included in the fermentation process(17).
Being satisfied with the drunken state of their guardsmen companion, Luther, the group gathered themselves and made their way from the tavern in an attempt to lose him. While that part was largely unsuccessful, Luther stumbling out after them, he did decide to return home on his own accord instructing the party to return to their guild.
In a city full of guards, more stand to meet the returning party at the gates of the Guild recognized as Herold and Darlac. As the party talks with them about entering the premises and finding Galathor, the man himself appears to escort the party back to his study.
As to be expected of a man such as Galathor, the study is finely appointed with mahogany furnishings and gilded gold. Fargrim stands in silent watch at the corner of the room. With no guidance from their mentor and only a single, highly regulated previous experience with the man the Party is cautious about their private meeting and the ways in which they should conduct themselves. They all urge Shawn, in his exuberance, to attempt to be silent in the man’s presence.
Starting with Drakon, and then moving on to Shadow and Imp(18), Galathor asks for an overview of what had occurred over the past few days as well as their new party member, Shawn. Recognizing his innate and unpredictable magical talent Galathor grants him a special permit that protects him from the law that outlaws arcane magic.
Galathor explains that their new mission is this- to collect information around Athkatla regarding the Honiesale militias and their various connections to the merchant houses here. There are three individuals he explicitly mentions as being of interest:
Vizen Dewdrinker— Head of House Mancliff. Owns Bilford & Sons.
Erbium Greyblade— Head of House Greyblade. Notable a half-giant.
Manisha Graves— Share of Adventurers’ Guild. Spends a lot of time in and around waters deep. Dwarf fighter.
With their new quest in mind, the Party leaves Galathor to his work—essentially running the entire guild as he appears to be the only one ever around— and sets their mind to concocting a plan.
To find the heads of the noble merchant houses they would likely either have to follow the distribution of the Honiesale mead or infiltrate the spaces that the nobles occupy.
The Mangrove Wine Hall and The Gilded Dahlia are both high-end establishments that cater to Athkatla’s wealthy and noble civilians. With Vedania’s familiar connections (and a makeover for the more rugged members of the party) they plan to play the part. Some acting as wealthy individuals and others as their bodyguards or exploring other information-gathering ventures (there’s only so much a makeover can do for some individuals).
As their night comes to a close, the party is introduced to Livia, an attendant assigned by Gather to act as their guide and assist in the procuring of anything necessary for their upcoming mission. Tomorrow they shall rise and begin to uncover the secrets within Athkatla
15. And they were likely not going to be paid for this mission. Imp would like it to be known that in his opinion they had successfully completed the mission having gained possession of the Axebeak (magistrates child). It is not our fault it likes Toorgin.
16. While Imp admits that the creature is quite cute, he does not understand why every party seems to want the critter. It is small, terrified, and only the size of a chicken. It is not currently useful except to be adorable.
17. While the Orc expresses disbelief and apparent disgust at learning how the process of creating this
brew, the scribe feels it necessary to note that the history of Honiesale brewing with this spore is a long
and storied tradition that contributed to the growth within the village and its surrounding communities.
18. In the telling of this part of the tale, Imp went off for a very long time about how in a city with so many artificers and the wealth of the guild– Damien deserves a fancy new prosthetic for his damaged leg.