Our first full day in Waterdeep! The encounter of last night still seems a bit surreal. I have tussled with a few ruffians before, but this was a bit on the extreme side. A band of Kobolds just going after strangers in broad daylight. Little Lizard dogs are known for their nerve, but surely they saw the misses? Who would mess with a man walking around with such a fine blade? It is nonsense I tell you.
The Little Teapot took off early this morning. He mumbled some nonsense about performing in a square. Shortly afterwards The Cleric and the Druid stopped by. I suspect they were really just after Fennius’ tea stash on the orders of the panther. I let the trio have into whatever leafs they wanted.
The Merry Albatross seems like nice enough accommodations. I generally prefer to gather around an open camp fire and camp out watching the dying embers of the fire give way to the glowing radiance of the night’s stars, but having a full kitchen and a roof does present some advantages. The rooms we are staying in are joined by a fire places that protrude from our rooms into our neighbors. We are on the second story. The first floor appears to be a tavern and eatery that gets a decent amount of morning traffic. The building posses an alley to the north and sits on Snail Street (which runs north/south through a large part of the city although sometimes by a different name). The inn is three stories tall.
At breakfast the cleric, the druid and I planned out our day’s activity. We are still bothered by the death of the Elf Priestess aboard the ship. Our first order of business is to try and track down exactly what happened to her and her book. We saw Bristletoe coming down for second or third breakfast (or some ungodly other hobbity way of eating) and he joined us for ANOTHER bite. We told him about the kobold attack the night before. He seemed to have heard about it, but didn’t know we were the ones at the point of the blade, so to speak. He was slightly shocked. Having traveled to town himself on several occasions, he was surprised we ran into trouble so quickly and in such a normally peaceful place. The docks, maybe would have such activity. Snail Street? Hardly seems likely. We chatted with Bristletoe for a bit. He is renting stores at a warehouse called ’Heldberge’s Wares’ down by the dock. His oils have been unloaded and he was going to go about the day making various sales calls. We decided that our first stop of the day would be the Temple of Salune. We offered to send a sample of oils to the temple for him. He gave us directions to the market and told us that anyone there would be able to direct us the rest of the way to the temple.
After Bristletoe left, we reviewed the only ‘clue’ our Kobold attackers left us – a strange black iron object that seemed vaguely key like. We decided that a smith would be a good person to ask about this – maybe they would have fashioned something similar. Also it is a good chance to show off the misses to someone who really knows a thing or two about fine pieces of metal.
We met a friendly dwarven smith in the market. I think we might have been fairly lucky to stumble upon such a good natured chap – Apparently this key isn’t just any key and isn’t something one goes flashing around. The smith identified it as a ‘Blackthorne Key’ – a key granting one access into the dark places that the Blackthorne (society? Group? company? Guild? Labor Union?) might traffic in. This does not appear to be a group that functions on the polite sides of society, but the exact nature of their misdeeds is still a little unclear. The Dwarf told us to use discretion when showing anyone that key, you never know how one person will react to it. He also asked us to be discerning about who clued us in about the Blackthornes. He wouldn’t want to lose his neck for helping out some strangers. He did comment that the old lady was a finely made blade. It was hard not to be proud that a craftsman recognized the quality of work.
We went onward to the temple of Salune. As we drew near the temple, it became clear that this midwinters festival is more than just an excuse to party and revel. There appeared to be actual piety in the streets. Although the cleric muttered something about some people caring more about ‘appearing’ pious than actually being reverent towards a god, the city of waterdeep impressed ME with their devotion. As we were making our way towards Priestess Silver Light (the official who came to investigate the trouble on the Seafoam Dancer) some people were offering us the opportunity to buy some charms against the coming of the ‘lupine lords’ whatever those things are. They are suppose to come on the ‘morrow of Salune’
We met with Silver Light behind a beaded curtain. She was certainly more calm than our previous experience with her. In fact, I wouldn’t doubt that she was in a chemical enhanced state of ‘calm’ when we met with her. The misses dug the vibe, but I was a bit more apprehensive. The metaphors and double layered talk, the fatalism and redirection towards the divine. Its all a bit much.
Silver Light offered a reward for information about the book that MoonBorn was carrying. We of course, had very little to offer. Always more questions than answers. The cleric learned that, like many objects relative to divine powers, the importance of this book is dubious. What exactly the consequences of this book falling into the wrong hands, Silver Light couldn’t say. But she did imply that it was an item of import. We asked her about what she learned from the ‘locate object’ spell she appeared to cast aboard the ship. She said the book didn’t appear to be on the book. We explained to her that we would be eager to find the book and return it to the temple. I delivered the Hobbit’s oils to Silver Light. She seemed pleased to take them.
We showed Silver Light the key and she seemed to know what it was. She also said that it was a key belonging to the Blackthornes. She said that such keys are known to open up doors into dark places. Again, with the cryptic nonsense. After the party left I spoke with her about my disease. I wondered if her knowledge of Lycanthropy would give her insight into my condition. It did not. She did suggest that I speak with the High Priestess Mercuria Cresent, An Elf that runs the temple. Now is not the time for such a conversation, given the demands of the festival.
We left temple to head back to the inn for lunch. On the way into the lodging, the druid spotted Hoody and a hobbit making their way through the back alley. She turned into a dog and began to follow them. Turns out there is a mercenary market directly in back of the inn. After making our way through that market, we followed the duo (or the hobbit at least) through an alley round the back. It led to the sewers. The druid was able to sniff out some sort of tracks through a few twists and turns. We ended up in a graveyard. It is from a quiet tombstone that I pen this entry.