"Brother Theodor! It is wonderful to see you returned safely!""Thank you Sister Bernice. I am happy to be back. Can you tell me where the Curate might be found? I need to report to him right away!"
"The Curate is seeing to patients with Deaconess Thessira; I'm sure they're eager to see you.", Sister Bernice says, grasping Brother Theodor's arm. At Djal's smile, she flusters a bit before returning to her duties with a bit of a blush.
Inside, the building has been sectioned off into sleeping areas, a hospital ward and an expanded kitchen, the offices and dormitory on the second story being blocked off with a rope across the stairs. The small courtyard in back has a small team of hired hands (mostly refugees) chopping firewood, peeling and cutting vegetables and boiling an enormous pot of water.
The Curate and Deaconess Thessira are setting a young boy's broken arm, their surgical masks hanging around their necks. Both the older Curate and the young Deaconess look exhausted.
After you give them some time to finish up, The Curate beckons you upstairs to the clerics' quarters and office. He pours cups of strong tea for each of you before sitting down in one of the chairs in the common area. He sits with flawless posture despite his clear exhaustion.
"Welcome back, young Theodor- and welcome to you, adventurers. I apologize that we do not have much more than tea to offer at the moment. Was your mission successful?"
"It was your grace." and Theodor removes the dagger from his pack and sets in on the Deacon's desk.
Heroiel spends the better part of the afternoon going from inn to inn across Fangsfall, each one packed with locals eating at their usual spots rubbing elbows with some of the better-off refugees fleeing the Calastian advance along with middle-class merchants and artisans just trying to have a business meeting. The wait for food and drink at all of these places is far too long and every available room, even the common room floors, are booked.
As far as he knows, The Lucky Scabbard usually has space but it's known for being a soldier's hangout- so the "disgraced" war wizard may not find much welcome. Grog Blossom's, a salty dockside inn catering to sailors and mercenaries is also a likely contender; it's a rough place and the beds aren't known for being comfortable. But it's cheap and it's a roof.
"It was your grace." and Theodor removes the dagger from his pack and sets in on the Deacon's desk.
The Curate mutters a quick prayer to Madriel as the Dagger's wrappings are removed to reveal its spider shaped hilt and wicked blade. For a moment, he looks even older and more tired than ever before quickly composing himself.
"What of the Ring? The Gauntlet? Were they there or was Meroni's map incorrect?"
Sighing, Heroiel makes his way to the temple to see if they still have space.
Heroiel finds the temple to Madriel and the long line of refugees and the injured. A young acolyte with long dark hair braided down her back is keeping people fairly organized and figuring out who needs immediate attention.
She approaches the wizard as he nears the line.
"Hello and welcome, stranger- are you in need of medical attention, shelter, food or.... ?"
Reaching into his pouch, Brother Theodor removes the ring they found.
"Here is the ring. As for the Gauntlet, well that is another story."
The young priest relates all that has happened to him since leaving the church. He explains how the Gauntlet and Spiragos' arm bones essentially are the Chasm of Flies.
"My travelling companions came here recently. I am looking for them."
"Oh, you're friends with Brother Theodor! How wonderful!", Sister Bernice says. "Please follow me, he and the rest of your friends are upstairs with the Curate."
Following the young acolyte, you walk through a chapel/converted warehouse that's been made into a makeshift hospital. Much of the ground floor is sectioned off into wards and sleeping areas. At the foot of the stairs, Sister Bernice pulls a rope aside.
"I'm told that the meeting upstairs is sensitive, so I'll let you go up on your own. It was so nice meeting you, take care!", she says before returning to her work outside.
At the top of the stairs there's a heavy set of oak doors, closed for privacy but Heroiel can hear voices inside. When he opens the doors, he finds his traveling companions talking to the Curate- a handsome older man with an olive complexion and very straight posture.
On the table between the Curate and the rest of the party is a serrated short sword made of some kind of blackened metal. Its handle is made of sweat-darkened skin and the tarnished silver pommel is a stylized, twisting spider. Beside the short sword is a ring- a black band shaped like a spider, four of its legs extending around to either side and joining on the opposite side of the wearer's finger. Its eyes are tiny emeralds. Both items feel profane and wrong and being in their presence makes you uneasy. On the road it was easier to justify the feeling as you were on your guard and ready for anything- but here in civilization, a church even, the things make your skin crawl.
Once it's established that Heroiel is known the rest of the group in attendance: Brother Theodor, Djal, Zukhan and Zdravko, the Curate bids the war wizard to take a seat and offers him a cup of strong tea before entreating Brother Theodor and Djal to continue with their tale from the beginning.
In Creagfort, a merchant named Hasdia Meroni of International Exports, Ltd. gave the group a treasure map scrawled with Titan speech indicating that a trio of relics could be found in the Chasm of Flies in the Devil's March. She offered the map freely, suggesting that she would purchase any treasure the party found.
Further research on the map and the symbols therein brought the revelation that the items were known as the Dagger, Gauntlet and Ring of Spiragos the Ambusher, a lesser Titan slain by Vangal during the Divine War. Keeping such dangerous things from the hands of Titanspawn or finding ways to destroy them was deemed a worthwhile quest, so the party set out to the Chasm of Flies. After a long journey through the Devil's March, the party descended the Chasm and found that a tribe of eight-armed spider-eye goblins were living within and worshiping the fallen Spiragos and his artifacts. It was only after recovering the Dagger and the Ring that the party realized they were inside of the Gauntlet- Spiragos' severed hand and bones embedded in the Earth and still wearing the Gauntlet kept the Gauntlet from shrinking to human size.
Once the two artifacts were recovered, the party set out to Fangsfall once more only to be ambushed by Vangalites pretending to be common bandits. Somehow the God of Destruction's followers knew Spiragos' artifacts were recovered and intend to take them for themselves. In the mean time, the party needs to discover a means of destroying the Dagger and the Ring themselves.
"So, Meroni sold you a copy of this map as well?" says Heroiel as he produces the map he was following when he first met the group. "I wonder how many people she sold one to?" Heroiel wonders aloud, then sips his tea.
"Reward? Is it not...", The Curate sighs. "No, of course, you're right. Forgive me. I can give you a letter of credit to cash with House Asuras, since these are clearly the real Ring and Dagger of Spiragos. Hasdia's made enough donations to the church that we can front this for her."
"I am pleased that you're so eager to get to the bottom of this, young Zdravko. If you're willing to research the means of destruction yourself, that will certainly be of great help. But we cannot keep these artifacts here- there are simply too many people coming in and out of the Chapel to keep them here safely. I would advise speaking the Dame Commander Sempronia Raho at the Chapterhouse of Corean; the knights have a far more defensible and secure location, greater resources and would likely be more than willing to assist in destroying these foul items."
"Your Grace. Would you also be able to write us a letter of introduction to the Commander? As well, please keep any monies that I would have garnered from this mission, I wish to tithe it back to the church."
"I'm willing to help with that as well. No one likes having such things just laying around where any fool can get their hands on them."
Weapon (shortsword), rare, requires attunement
You have a +1 bonus to attack rolls and damage rolls for attacks you make with this magic weapon; despite being the size of a typical shortsword, it can be wielded without penalty by anyone proficient with either a shortsword or a dagger. If you apply poison to the weapon, that poison's saving throw DC increases by 2.
Once per day, you can use a bonus action to cause thick, black poison to coat the blade. The poison remains for 1 minute or until you hit a creature with the poisoned weapon. When you hit a creature with the poisoned weapon, the target must make a DC 15 Constitution saving throw. On a failed save, the target becomes poisoned for 1 minute and takes 11 (2d10) poison damage.
Ring, rare, requires attunement
You must be a druid, sorcerer or warlock to become attuned to this ring.
If you are a druid, then starting at 5th level, you can use your wild shape feature to transform into a giant spider.
If you are a druid, sorcerer or warlock, while you wear this ring you gain the following:
Spells You add bestow curse, spider climb, and web to the list of spells you know or have prepared.
Spider Friend Three times per day, you can cast the charm monster spell (save DC 13) without using any components. This spell targets only spiders, whether the normal or of the giant variety, and monsters that are spider-like in nature.
Virulence Whenever you cast a spell that deals poison damage or imposes the poisoned condition, the saving throw DC of that spell increases by 1, if applicable.
Web Walker You ignore movement restrictions caused by webbing.
Djal blinks incredulously at the Curate, then at Theodor: "Look. It's been hard; finding and bringing these artefacts here... Can we not leave them to you? I mean, you could go and see the Commander, no? ... Wait. I'm- I apologize. Yes, we will go see the Commander. With the item. After you've given us the letter of change."
The Curate nods.
”I understand your reluctance, but your band is truly the best hope for destroying these tainted items without drawing excessive attention. I imagine the Dame Commander will enlist your aid as well. Our resources must remain dedicated to easing the growing refugee crisis here in Fangsfall and I’ve no doubt that anything the knights of Corean do en masse will be marked by everyone in the city. Your capable hands have brought these things here and I believe you can put an end to the matter, despite the hardship.”
Heroiel rises and goes to see about the destruction of these items as well.
The Curate rises, unlocking a drawer in his desk and penning a quick note of introduction. He pulls out a letter of credit emblazoned in gilt with the human-faced lion crest of House Asuras on the back and fills it out.
"Brother Theodor still has chambers here. Should you need a roof over your heads, you may always return- I'm sure we can lay out some cots up here for you. The Mithril Chapterhouse is on Four Swords Lane, not far from Vrail Keep- so it's a bit of a walk from here."
The Curate puts his signature to each piece of parchment, sprinkling them with sand to dry the ink.
"Here we are. Don't spend it all in one place."
You are handed an introductory letter to the Mithril Knights and a letter of credit for 1,000 gp to be redeemed at the House Asuras Compound here on the docks. The Curate bids you wait another moment before disappearing into his chambers, returning bearing a spear with gold engraving on its head.
"My crusading days are behind me now and I can't say I'll have further use for my old spear. You should take it with you, Theodor- I believe you're far more likely to need it than I.", he says, handing the fine spear to the young priest.
Brother Theodor is stunned. He has heard the stories of the Curate and this spear. He knows it holds potent magic and perhaps is even touched with the essence of Madriel.
"Your Grace...I do not know what to say! You honour me with such a gift and I shall endeavour to be worthy of such a weapon!"
He reaches for the spear and is a little surprised that it does not burst into light or something as he holds it. In fact, it feels much like his old spear...maybe a little better balanced and lighter, but nothing mystical or spiritual occurs with his handling the weapon. Still, he is overwhelmed with the gift and falls to his knees and thanks Madriel for watching over him and this group.
"That will probably also lessen the influence they may have over the one who carries them." states Heroiel.
Brother Theodor is stunned. He has heard the stories of the Curate and this spear. He knows it holds potent magic and perhaps is even touched with the essence of Madriel.
"Your Grace...I do not know what to say! You honour me with such a gift and I shall endeavour to be worthy of such a weapon!"
He reaches for the spear and is a little surprised that it does not burst into light or something as he holds it. In fact, it feels much like his old spear...maybe a little better balanced and lighter, but nothing mystical or spiritual occurs with his handling the weapon. Still, he is overwhelmed with the gift and falls to his knees and thanks Madriel for watching over him and this group.
The Curate grasps Brother Theodor by the shoulder.
"It is very well deserved. Wield it with pride and bring the light of the Redeemer wherever you go."
You depart from the Chapel of Madriel with the artifacts in tow. Djal makes an excuse that he "forgot his gloves" but the rest of you see him talk to Sister Bernice outside for a moment. You don't overhear what's said but the Sister blushes like a schoolgirl and Djal returns whistling.
Gathering up the artifacts before he leaves, Theodor receives a quick benediction from the Curate before joining the others outside. He notices Djal talking to Sister Bernice and smiles to himself. The order is not a celibate one, but few of the Brothers or Sisters marry as this would take them away from their primary duties.
"Ok, well I think we should head straight to the Knights and see if they can help us with this burden."
You march back up the hill from the docks, toward Vrail Keep and the surrounding neighborhoods. Progress is slow until you switch to a longer route through side streets and narrow alleys, criss-crossing the tangled streets of Fangsfall.
Anyone that lives in Fangsfall is at least somewhat familiar with Corean's Mithril Knights- they were instrumental in Killian Vrail's accidental coup, as the order of paladins were in Lord Vrail's entourage in his flight from Rahoch when that city fell to the Calastian Hegemony's expansion. While Corean's faith is now the official religion of Fangsfall, most citizens just shrugged at the announcement and continued their own worship of Enkili (or Manawe, the goddess of the sea). Nonetheless, the knights have steadily eradicated some of the more flagrant corruption in the government and never shirk from a humanitarian cause, despite their small numbers.
In a plaza ahead of you, a mass of people have gathered around a fountain where a figure in a jester's approximation of royal finery addresses the gathered folk. What's most fascinating is that the figure's face, neck and exposed skin are all thoroughly feathered, with a long beak like a heron protruding from their face. With a wave of a scepter hung with pennants it announces:
"Fair folk and foul, friends and foes, flabbergasted, fecund or felonious, one and all here in Fangsfall it is my- and by my I mean our- fierce and trembling pleasure to announce that the Carnival of Shadows shall impose its transformative delights upon your fair Fangsfall in the coming days! In a blink of an eye, toothsome citizens, you shall find delight and entertainment and for the daring the means to acquire your hearts' desires. Shutter not your windows, gnash not your fangs for our delights are for the pious and the heretical alike!", they announce to the suddenly hushed and enraptured crowd before all at once, as if a spell is broken, the crowd of citizens, refugees, tradesmen and guards all at once begin to talk over each other.
There's no way you're crossing this plaza quickly. The side street on your right seems to offer a faster means of egress.
Heroiel moves towards the side street, warily watching for wicked men.
Djal doesn't note any magic within 30 feet of him besides Theodor's spear, the Dagger and the Ring.
Brother Theodor moves towards the alley as well, trying to stay away from the people crowding the plaza. He warily enters the alley and looks around.
Perception:
Zdravko's rotten tomato falls short of the mark, striking a wealthy dowager in the back of the head. The old woman squawks like a bird herself as much of the crowd turns to look back toward the party.
"You there! Stop where you are!", bellows a guardsman roughly 50 feet away on the edge of the crowd. He and his three comrades start pushing through the crowd toward Zdravko, leather truncheons at the ready.
Heroiel, Brother Theodor and Zukhan cautiously enter the alleyway. It's strewn with trash and discarded bottles, but it seems like foot traffic comes through here. The alley takes a sharp right turn about 20 feet ahead, making it impossible to see how much further this route leads without pressing forward. Behind you, you can hear a disturbance growing in the crowd.
Hearing a fight brewing behind them, Heroiel just smiles and rubs his holy symbol through his shirt. Having seen the scholar fight, he knew they were in for a tough time.
The guardsmen push through the throngs of people toward Zdravko as the folk around him make room.
"Alright then, what's the idea? Tensions are high right now, you tryin' to start a riot or somethin' son?", the guardsman says.
His comrades try to move the crowd along.
"Show's over folks, come on! Push off!"
Djal steps in on Zdravko's behalf.
"A mere rotten tomato, gentlemen, does not a riot make! Come now, this is all part of the performing arts and surely that jester expects nothing less! Even if the old dear was a bit splattered, it was good for a laugh was it not?"
The guard nods, a little guiltily. And his companions chuckle.
"Aye... 'twas good for a laugh, it's true. Alright! You keep moving, lad, and we'll sweep this all under the rug."
The guards resume trying to get the crowd moving out of the plaza.