A few weeks ago, three nobles of the city of Akkhan plunged the city into chaos, looking for something valuable. Rewards for the three missing magical items were posted, servants were accuses of theft and hanged, and even the Thieves Guild was raided in a desperate attempt to find the missing weapons.
Whether you are new to the city and drawn by the promise of rewards, or living in Akkhan and wanting the chaos to stop, you have answered the call. The three nobles are holding a meeting for all who wish to retrieve the weapons and return them. Other groups were sent out, but no one has heard from them since they left, even though they were given the means to do so.
Picked out by representatives of the nobles, you have entered a room so heavily guarded you doubt a dragon could break in without trouble. Now assembled with your soon-to-be traveling companions, you are finally adressed by the three outraged nobles.
The dwarven noble speaks first.
"I'll get right to the point. Whelm, a family heirloom, was stolen from one of my most protected vaults. Some fool, parading as a long dead wizard known as Keraptis, has taken it, and I want it back!"
"Barrack, do you think you are the only not wanting their weapon back?" It's the elf that speaks up this time, leaving only the gnome in the center of the trio silent. "You didn't even think to tell them Whelm is a hammer!" She turns to you, her eyes cold. "I need your to retrieve my trident, Wave, from this upstart. Do you believe you can do that?"
"Aananda, you are too quick to berate Barrack! Neither of you thought to tell them how we know the name of the culprit or the supposed location of our weapons!" Who would have thought the little gnome had such a deep voice? "Just a few days past, each of us received a note, which you will be given copies of before you leave. Basically, it was a challenge by 'Keraptis' to retrieve are items. After a brief though detailed discussion, we believe the items are being kept in White Plume Mountain. Along with Barrack's hammer and Aananda's trident, I wish you to return my sword to me. You will be given basic provisions and transportation to the village nearest the mountain. Any questions?"
A dirty looking gruff man clad in a brown worn apron lined with vials in all sort of colors and shapes steps forward. In a deep hoarse voice he asks
”And now we run off to get your precious, and no doubt valuable, weapons back, but first answer me this. What is in this little expedition for us?
And what might one expect to find in this white plume mouantain?”
Thunder-Klar stands apart from the crowd. Her armour not looking as shiny as some of the city folk, and her choice of weapon looking strange and exotic. These aren't the things that make her stand out from the crowd. The thing that makes her stand out from the rest of the crowd the most is the large bulky red creature standing next to her. The large creature occasionally leans over to the small girl, and whispers something in a language that none else can really understand, a whispered response being spoken back from the girl.
Thunder-Klar steps forward enough to stop leaning against a wall and speaks in heavily accented common.
"So, the weapons are a trident, a hammer, and a sword. I'm up for anything, for the right price though. Money buys food, and food keeps us alive."
Thunder-Klar then looks up at her large companion, and says something in a strange dialect , getting a response from her companion in the same language, Thunder-Klar resumes talking.
"My companion and myself agree that we should be paid for the service, but we are more than willing to do the service, this will bring many tales back to my people.
A tall wirery man leans nonchalantly against the shoulder of a massive cat formed of liquid shadows with his wide brimmed hat pulled low over his eyes. Dressed in serviceable leathers and chain he is nondescript, and could blend into most crowds. He tilts his head slightly seeming to listen to creature. After a moment he chuckles softly and says
"I'm up for it if you are, go ahead and tell 'em"
The cat lifts his large head and directs his silver gaze at the three nobles. He then says in a voice in a deep rumbling growl
"We're always interested in hunts, which are often satisfying in and of themselves. However, this time since the prey is of someone else's choosing I believe a little compensation is in order"
If the nobles are shocked by the shadow cat's ability to talk, they hide it well. After a hushed conversation, the gnome speaks up again.
"We are willing to offer three-thousand gold each, and you may keep anything you find in the mountain, except are items. Is that agreeable?"
The big cat's head looks over at Layf who meets the gaze the shrugs his shoulders. Layf looks back at the nobles, the shadows from his hat obscuring his face, and says
"While the 3000 sounds all well and good, I think we're going to need a little more information about this Keraptis character before we settle on a price. I'd feel pretty sill if I agreed to square off against a demigod, just because people flashed a little gold."
Thunder-Klar turns to her large, red companion, asking it a question in the strange dialect again, getting a response again in the same language.
"Sounds fair, Cindersteel agrees to your terms, and if Cindersteel agrees, then so do I. But I do agree with the elf, we need more information on Keraptis and White Plume."
Thunder-Klar then turns to her companion and tells it to turn around.
As Cindersteel turns, more of his face and body is seen, a large flat 2 eyes face that seems a poor attempt at mimicing a human face, and large long appendages ending in clawed hands. The armour it is wearing is worn immaculate, and the sword strapped to its back is as almost as big as thing that carries it.
Thunder-Klar checks the straps holding the weapon in place, making sure that it is secure.
"Keraptis is a wizard from 300 years ago. Long dead by now, we think an imposter is just expecting us to send a message asking what the ransom is. We'll send a message alright, and you will deliver it. An extra thousand gold if you can bring back the fool who took our heirlooms.. dead or alive."
"Now that is more like it. Well chums, what are we waiting for? Let's go get this 'wizard' and get these gentlemen their heirlooms back"
"Well if we are teaming up, I think this mage's future is looking pretty bleak. If you have no further information for us, we'll be on our way . . ."
Layf and Dawnthief make as if they are going to head out of the audience, then look back to make sure the nobles have nothing further.
As you leave, a note is handed to each of you.
You’ll find no trace of the three
Unless you follow instructions clear,
For the weapons abide with me.
North past forest, farm, and furrow
You must go to reach the feathered mound
Then down away from the sun you’ll burrow
Forget life, forget light, forget sound.
To rescue Wave, you must do battle
With the Beast in the Boiling Bubble.
Crost cavern vast, where chain-links rattle
Lies Whelm, past waterspouts double.
Blackrazor yet remains to be won
Underneath inverted ziggurat.
That garnered, think not that you’re done,
For now you’ll find you are caught.
I care not, former owners brave,
What heroes you seek to hire.
Though mighty, each shall be my slave
Or vanish into the fire. -K
Layf glances at the note, then wrinkles his nose in disgust. "Jeesh . . . poetry! I never did like poetry". He sets the poem on the ground in front of Dawnthief and says "See what you can make of this, while I go have a chat with our new friends". He walks away from the beast, with a quiet smirk on his face.
Dawnthief glowers a the retreating elf's back and growls menacingly.
Layf walks over to the others who are receiving the proffered poems and says"My name's Layf, the menacing cat with the eyes is Dawnthief." thumbing vaguely in the hulking beast's direction. "Looks like we're going to be working together on this one."
Thunder-Klar is handed a piece of paper with a poem written on it, reading it aloud, Cindersteel notices the elf approach Thunder-Klar and himself.
"Sharatok... Tshamek." Says the large red creature ina deep resonate voice.
Hearing this, Thunder-Klar looks up and notices the elf that Cindersteel talked to.
"He is not Tshamek, Cindersteel, we are Tshamek here. Treat them as you would treat a warrior from another Quah."
Cindersteel glowers at his small companion, but eventually caves in and mutters something. Looking the large red creature in the eyes, Thunder-Klar stares down her companion.
"Irok devit fendrik swork?" Thunder-Klar asks Cindersteel.
"Irok devit fendrik swrok." Comes the reply from the large red creature.
Thunder-Flar finally turns to the elf, and hands her note to the large red creature who immerses himself in reading it.
"Don't mind my nalharest, he has certain prejudices against any who aren't of our people. Eventually he may warm up to you."
"Oh, I don't mind at all. I imagine Dawnthief will have similar reactions to the both of you, especially your nalharest. Something to do with interplaner politics . . . but I don't pay attention much to politics on this plane, so imagine my indifference to the others" Layf says with a smile. "So what do you think about the task at hand?"