Dain listens to Velika, enthralled by her retelling of the fight against the rhodintor. I don't think it happened like that, he thinks, Did I really slam the trap door closed right in the demon's face? Maybe I was so focused on closing it that i didn't notice?
Tilver tugs on his sleeve, pulling his attention away from the gnomish bard. "Hmm...what? Oh, yes, lets go speak with Brother Fabitor. I have questions for him."
As they approach the chapel, Dain nods in greeting to the two bakers when the Brother introduces them. "Mmm-hmm, yes, Anselm and Morgan, yes. I'm Dain. I know your shop. Did you know that one of the Longbottom street spirits likes to perch on your roof? I think it enjoys the wonderful...mmm...smells coming up through your chimney. It seems quite happy. It will bring good fortune for your establishment." He smiles earnestly at the two brothers for a moment before allowing Brother Fabitor to lead him towards St' Gustav's statue.
Dain listens to Brother Fabitor's counsel, then replies, "Mand Scheben, yes, very important person. I know of him, of course, though I'd hardly say I know him. He is a friend of my friends though, so I am sure a meeting could be arranged. Thank you, Brother, for your sound advice. After a shoort pause, he continues, "But there was something else I wanted to ask you about. Do you know of the Pythoness House? Up in Oldtown? It used to be a base for a...hmm...Chaos Cult, before the Knights of the Pale cleared them out. Well, we've been exploring it, looking for a key. While we explored, we ran into a very troubled, angry spirit. The ghost appeared to have once been a priest of your order. We later found a journal that said the ghost was the spirit of a young priest named Taunell." Dain pauses, appearing distracted by something above him on the statue, before bringing his attention back to the Brother. "I am hoping I can do something to bring peace to this spirit, but I need to know more about him and what tortures him. The ghost seems very disinclined to converse, so I was hoping maybe you could help me figure out who he was?"
Tilver frowns at Brother Fabitor. "I thought Lothian welcomed all into his grace. I get taking care of the flock, but wouldn't helping non-Lothianites be a good way to spread his faith?"
He nods as Dain describes the ghost of Taunell. "If we can find anything about him, perhaps it's a clue to what holds him to this place. Was he tied to Pythoness in anyway?"
The two bakers look flabbergasted at Dain's revelation. "R..really? What kind of spirit is it? Does it like pies? Cakes? Wine? Should we offer it wine?"
Fabitor shrugs apologetically to Tilver. "Charity is one thing, Tilver, but a spell like restoration is a princely gift. We care for the poor and the homeless, but such powerful blessings are not ours to bestow without the intervention of higher powers. Sometimes the Church does help out unbelievers, but it is a rare thing."
Turning to the question of the ghost, he says "I can't say I know a lot about Oldtown. I spend most of my time in Midtown. But a ghost of a Lothianite priest? No, I've never heard of this. But I can look into it. Can you give me a few days? A day at least? I'll make some inquiries."
Velika quirks an eyebrow at Tilver and Dain and makes a mental note to think up a suitable punishment for them walking out mid-tale - but the flow of her narrative remains uninterrupted until it's conclusion.
At Myraeth's invitation, she follows him into his back room along with Holys. She makes what she hopes is an unnoticeable effort not to stare at the curtain with curiosity and concentrates instead on the beautiful teacups and their wonderful contents.
When Myraeth indicates he is ready, she pulls out the chaos cult robe with a flourish, remaining unusually silent. Sometimes (although rarely) silence is more effective than words.
It's a religious symbol of some sort. A cult, and from your talk of the rhodintor, I imagine it belongs to a chaos cult. Why bring it to me?"
Tilver shrugs and nods. The cost for a Restoration spell is more than he'd ever seen spent in one place. "Sure, but we might be headed back in. Silas is watching the place now. Anything you can turn up might be helpful though."
"Well, Dain? Should we go to the Church of Ashe?"
Dain nods his head, "Taunell's ghost has haunted that place for...ummm...at least five years - according to the journal. I'd guess its been considerably longer. So another day or two won't hurt. Thank you." He gives the Brother a smile.
Before they leave, Dain answers Anselm and Morgan, "It was larger than an alley spirit - a full fledged...mmm...street spirit I'd say. Probably the spirit of Rainy Lane? Hmmm..or possibly Crispin Street? I didn't speak with it so I'm not sure. It probably likes the way your shop makes its street smell, so it probably would appreciate anything fragrant that you...ummm...bake for it." Magill looks up at the brothers and chitters. "Magill says it particularly likes apple tarts." Magill looks at Dain and chitters a bit more forcefully. "She ummm...she mmm...also says that she likes apple tarts."
Responding to Tilver's question, Dain seems twitchier than normal - nervous perhaps. "We should...mmm...wait and see if I overcome the effects with time - perhaps spare ourselves the effort and cost of obtaining such a blessing. It often takes a day for these...mmm...things...to wear off. If I haven't recovered by this afternoon, well...mmm...the Lord and Lady of Castle Shard are good friends with Asche's High Priest. Maybe they would....uhhh...intervene on my behalf?"
"Truthfully, we thought some of your customers might find such esoterica interesting. Or if not, that you might know of someone we might approach who would?"
Myraeth considers. "Well, on the one hand, it's a nearly worthless set of robes. On the other hand it is a curiosity some customers may be interested in. On the whole, however, it would bring a profit far too low to worth the effort of finding the appropriate buyer and then protecting myself against the anger of the cult. My best advice is to burn it. I'll happily buy any magical items you find, but this is just inviting trouble for no gain."
Silas sits in the shade and slowly sharpens his blade and tries to time how long it is between when the wall of force comes and goes.
Tilver frowns. "I think if we're going to bother Lord Zavere and Lady Rill, we should all be together. I don't even know if they would see us. They're nearly at the top of the list of the most important people in the city. We should rejoin Velika and Holys and see what they think."
"But if you're just going to try and rest, I should stop in and see Evie. She should be off shift soon. Maybe I could bring her a pie..." He eyes the two bakers still standing near the Church entrance.
"Well, if you're not interested, we understand. Thank you, as ever, for the tea and pleasant company."
Velika nods at Myraeth and puts the robe back in her bag, suspecting that his words not a bartering tactic but rather the simple truth. And she thinks she knows of an acting troupe or two that like flirting with danger enough that they might appreciate the donation of the robe.
"Understook, Myraeth. On a completely different note, do you have anything that might help us in a fight against something incorporeal?"
Velika is expecting Tilver and Dain to return to the store when they're done wandering so she will spend her time shopping while she waits.
Dain and Tilver make their way back to Myraith's shop. When they arrive, Dain browses through the wizard's wares, looking for items with a healing nature or anything else that catches his eye.
"Well, anything?" Tilver joins Velika at the front. "The Church can't help Dain, but they thought the Church of Ashe might. But we found where to get some good pie!"
"Pie would be welcome. Let's talk back at my home..."
Holys leads the group home and they have something to eat, wrapping something to bring to Silas as well.
Myraeth happily shows Tilver some of his wares, including those both within and well beyond the teams budget.
His current inventory includes:
1 potion of darkvision (300 gp)
1 potion of ghoul touch (300 gp)
1 potion of protection from energy (sonic) (750 gp)
1 potion of gaseous form (750 gp)
1 scroll of alter self (25 gp)
1 scroll of hero’s feast (1650 gp)
1 scroll of fire shield (700 gp)
1 pinch of dust of appearance (1,800 gp)
1 wand of levitate (32 charges) (2880 gp)
1 immovable rod (only works underwater, discounted to half price) (2500 gp)
1 ring of swimming (2500 gp)
2 pinches of Vallis dust* (1050 gp each)
2 dull grey ioun stones (25 gp each)
3 various feather tokens
1 sustaining spoon (5400 gp)
1 horn of fog (2,000 gp)
1 figurine of wondrous power (marble elephant) (17,000 gp)
1 set of ring gates (40,000 gp)
1 belt of giant’s strength +4 (8,000 gp)
As well as various pieces of nonmagical art, Undercity souvenirs, spell components, and bric-a-brac.
When Tilver asks, Myraeth explains what Vallis Dust is:
"Vallis was the name of the mysterious moon of magic that once orbited Praemal. In ancient days, meteors of green Vallis stone rained down upon the world from time to time. Vallis stones were raw magical power in solid form and could be used to power spells, magic items, and mighty rituals probably not even possible to conduct today."
"The Vallis moon is long gone, and most of the Vallis stone was used up like a squandered commodity. Still, some remains, in the form of sparkling green Vallis dust. With so little of the stuff left in the world, spellcasters have learned to extract as much as they can from the dust. A careful mage can use a tiny mote of Vallis dust to do what a caster of the distant past (with no need to conserve) would have done with a stone the size of a human fist."
Although several items are very tempting, Velika decides not to purchase anything at the moment.
Dain stares, jaw open, at the packages of Vallis dust. "So many tiny moon spirits....", he says in a soft, wondering voice. When his attention returns to the material world, he turns to Myraeth. "That dust seems very useful - we may return for some of it, friend."
Tilver picks up the underwater immovable rod. "Myraeth, what's with this? Only underwater? Has the Dreaming Apothecary gotten some new interns or something?" He laughs.
"Well, I want to go see if Rastor's has a magic spear. Afterwards...if Holy's is headed home, I'd like to catch Evie on her way home. Maybe have some dinner with her. Do you think Silas will mind being on watch longer? I hate to think he's there and we're having a nice meal."
Velika finally lets the full effect of her fatigue show on her face and admits to her friends, "I honestly don't think I'll be very effective if we go back into that building before I can get a good night's sleep. Holys, if you would take this tome off my hands and secure it at your house, I'd be grateful. And Tilver, go catch up with Evie and say hello for me too.
I'm hoping that if Dain and I go back to Silas, and if there haven't been any disturbances there so far, maybe he'll be willing to leave with us. We can all get a good night's sleep without Tilver's horrible snoring and go back tomorrow morning refreshed."
Dain stares, jaw open, at the packages of Vallis dust. "So many tiny moon spirits....", he says in a soft, wondering voice. When his attention returns to the material world, he turns to Myraeth. "That dust seems very useful - we may return for some of it, friend."
"It's not often in stock," says Myraeth. "But one never knows what will be dredged up from the Labyrinth or the Mirror Maze or wherever! Check in from time to time and I'll be sure to have something you like."
Tilver picks up the underwater immovable rod. "Myraeth, what's with this? Only underwater? Has the Dreaming Apothecary gotten some new interns or something?" He laughs.
"Oh no! The Dreaming Apothecary never makes mistakes of that sort. What he contracts for, he makes exactly. No, this is more likely the work of some merman or aquatic elf from the Whitewind Sea."
"Alarm is simple enough," says Myraeth. "When do you need it by? Is tomorrow morning early enough?"
Tilver cocks his head to one side. "Really, a merman? I never thought of them making things that would only work underwater."
Leaving Myraeth's, Tilver heads to Rastor's to see what the Litorian has to offer. He nods his head at the man as he enters. "Good Day, Rastor. I'm looking for a magic longspear. Do you have anything like that?"
Rastor is a massive litorian with beads tied into his mane. He is well known in the district for his impeccable honor and incredible dignity, as well as his great skill with weapons. Since he buys arms of all kinds, Rastor has a number of masterwork weapons and almost always has some magic weapons for sale. While used, they are always in good condition (if they are not, he offers a discount). Rastor does not make weapons, he only buys and sells used ones.
The big lion-headed litorian smiles at Tilver, his fangs protruding from beneath black lips. "Is the Holy Emperor a Lothianite? Of course I have magic longspears. Two, to be precise. Come, I'll show you."
"This one is very nice. Got a good heft, clean shaft. Very simple enchantment, but that's all most monsters are ever going to need to take them down, yeah?"
"Or there's this one. Beautiful no? From the Dwarvenhearth. You can't do better. It's not only a great work of art, it's as sharp as a razor."
* +1 longspear (2305 gp)
* +2 keen longspear (18,305 gp)
Velika answered Myraeth, "I was hoping for something more immediate. I suspect I'll need it to convince our stubborn Litorian friend to get a good night's rest."
Myraeth sighs. "Go over to Rastor's and come back in an hour. I'll have the scroll for you."
Holys has gone home with the book Velika was carrying, and has put a kettle on. The others will find Silas after they're done shopping.
Dain and Velika wander over to Rastor's. Dain browses while Velika checks to see if Rastor sells magical ammunition for her gun. Afterwards they head to next door to the Ghostly Minstrel for a drink. After an hour has past, they head back across the square to pick up the scroll from Myraeth's.
"Not firearms, no," says Rastor. "Not really my thing. Too... explodey... for my tastes.
"Seriously,I only deal with used weapons and nearly every firearm in Ptolus is new. The old ones, the relics, come from the Dwarvenhearth, and those are vanishingly few. If you want firearms, you should go see those Shuul fellows over at the Smoke Shop in North Market. They've only been open a few months, but I hear they've got some interesting things to sell."
Velika will be more than happy to talk to the new firearms merchants. If they're willing to talk technololgy, she will probably need Dain to pull her away when the hour is up. Also, she will probably buy something.
It's a long walk from Delver's Square, Velika (see the maps). It's something to do after lunch, perhaps.
Tilver purses his lips as he looks at the first spear Rastor shows him. He doesn't even allow himself to look at the second. "A fine weapon, Rastor. Unfortunately, I'm a more than a bit short. Is there any way you can hold it for a day? Maybe I can find the funds."
He glances at Velika. "It's a king's ransom for a spear like that. I'd need most of the gold we got from selling everything. I don't know that I can ask everyone to do that."
"Mmmm...Well, just for one day, then. That's all I can do." The big litorian sets the spear into the back room.
After that, Tilver, Velika and Dain enjoy a nice lunch at the Ghostly Minstrel, listening to Delvers talk about the Giant's Stair and the Halls of Cordaris while a very much alive minstrel sings ribald tales of romance gone awry. Colorful characters fill the benches, from doughty dwarves and haughty elves to massive centaurs and a masked man who drinks only by lifting the mask enough to reveal a scarred chin.
One team whispers a bit drunkenly about seeking the Dwarvenhearth while others boast of having returned from a score in Ghul's Laboratory.
Eventually, you finish your lunch and return to Myraeth's purchasing the scroll of alarm for 25 gold shields.
After that, the whole team traipses over to the North Market. Dain and Velika wait a bit on the street while Tilver runs up and checks on his flat, then they all head over to the Smoke Shop, a strange-looking place with gear-driven doors and a belching forge out back.
A fat man in a fine robe smiles at you when you enter and air is filled with rich, sharp scents. "Hello!" says the man, who wears a pistol at his hip. "What can I do for you?"
Tilver walks into the shop reading the note he found slipped under his door. That and the cheese that had gotten moldy in the last day were the only things of note at his flat. He opens the letter to find a simple invitation from his neighbors, Otis and Meghan. Huh, little Emily was two already? Seems like just yesterday that he was moving in and Meghan was only beginning to show.
The invite promised moonshine and those little sweetcakes that Meghan baked. Gotta remember to get the little one a present. Tilver looks up to see horns of black powder and bullets behind the counter at the Smoke Shop. Hmm, maybe this isn't the best place for that.
Tilver points to Velika. "She's your customer. Though, maybe one day I'd like to see keep a pistol for backup."
At Rastor's, Velika replies to Tilver's implied question: "I might have some money to lend you - that spear would definitely be a good investment - but I doubt my share will be enough. And I think we should wait and see if Dain needs it for his restoration spell before making any big purchases."
Once at the Smoke Shop, Velika spends so much time admiring the gear-driven door that Dain has to nudge her to enter the store. Even then, she spends several minutes enjoying the smells and admiring the goods, only remembering why she came at Tilver's prompt.
With a broad grin she greets the man in the fine robes, "Oh, there are so many things you can do for me I almost don't know where to start. Although this is my first time in your establishment, I doubt it will be my last! Right now, I'm specifically looking for magically enhanced ammunition for Alakabam." She says this while pulling out her masterwork double pistol, making sure to handle it in a non-threatening manner and opening the chamber to show it is not loaded. Then she holds it in her palms, fully expecting the man to admire it.
And admire it he does. "Ah, lovely! This is not our work. Do you mind if I ask where you got it? That is, unless you are the gunsmith yourself?"
"Well, we don't have much call for magically-enhanced weaponry. Most folks find our weapons do just fine on their own." he says, gesturing to a crossed pair of rifles, one a dragon rifle and one she doesn't recognize, and then waving a hand at what appears to be a mechanical clock.
"But that doesn't mean we don't have any, don't you worry. Most of our clients who demand magical enhancements want them added permanently to the weapon, but I do have a few samples of magical ammunition for the, um, discriminating client."
Reaching below the counter he produces a leather bag of shot. "Magnetic rounds. These are deadly against targets wearing metal armor. I can sell you ten rounds for 1600 gold."
"As I say, magical ammunition can get very expensive. If you're interested, I can show you a magical rapid-firing pistol. Not cheap, but maybe it saves you in a pinch. Or... I do have a new aelectrical gun. Hell of a thing. Takes a while to charge, but kicks like a dragon."
"Hmmm, I think that ammunition is not in my price range today.
And yes, Alakabam is my own creation and my best friend. I do hope to have her enchanted one day soon. Is that a service you offer?"
Business aside, Velika wanders over to the mechanical clock and admires it. "By the twenty-four, this is wonderful. But I'm amazed to see a clock here in a firearms shop!"
Expecting that there is more to it than the obvious, Velika examines the clock looking for secrets, her fingers and toes tapping out a quiet, complex rhythm as she concentrates.
"Ah, then I am in the presence of an artist. This is a lovely piece!"
He frowns. "Can we enchant a firearm we have not ourselves made? I should think so, though I will have to consult with our mages to be sure."
He smiles as Velika turns her attention to the clock. "Isn't it lovely? It is accurate to within two minutes per year, though it does require daily winding. "
Velika can see that this handcrafted clock is a real work of art. Likely to be a human creation, but along dwarven principles. Without opening it and examining its mechanisms she could not say more. But it is a very rare item.
"So that your visit to the shop is no waste of your time, perhaps I could draw your attention to these pills," he says, placing a small wooden box on the table inside of which are a dozen small blue lozenges. "Very similar to a magical potion, yet derived through alchemical principles to arrive at the same place, with the added benefit of being able to store an almost unlimited quantity in your pocket. These are restoratives, comparable to the healing potions you find in the market. Very safe, very stable."
Dain leans in and examines the pills, "Alchemical, hmmmm? Interesting. Do you offer any ammunition imbued with alchemical properties? Perhaps something less pricey than the magical stuff?"
"Not as such, no. But I do have a few experimental washes that can temporarily alter the properties of ordinary ammunition."