That evening, Astraden hits the bars. She doesn't bother with a disguise, and actually greets the childhood friends who recognize her. Smenk and Dourstone, she tells them, are just the first. The other managers were in on the cult below the mines as well, and her group just hadn't been able to find any proof of it. Some mine collapses have even been triggered by the managers to deal with unruly labor - she embellishes on the Greysmere Disaster. She doesn't encourage her fellows to take any specific action, but hopes the rumors will propagate themselves and make the miners ready when the next chance comes.
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Carina spends the most of the rest of the evening translating the spells she has into formulae for her book.
First, the spell false life...
Eww. Eww. Eww. Eww. Eww. Eww. Eww. I need to wash my hands after handling this book...
...then darkvision...
...and this should heighten the sensitivity of a person's eyes to the extent that they can emulate the vision of dwarves! Didn't think that particular plant had that kind of application...
...followed by invisibility...
...and this should turn a person's skin an ultraviolet colour. It ought to render them invisible--oh, s**t. I forgot to balance this side of the equation--right now, it'll just turn their skin invisible. Muscles & organs will still be visible. Dammit, gotta start again...
...with see invisibility after that...
...whew. This ought to allow a person to perceive the colour of ultraviolet. I wonder what colour ultraviolet is... maybe really, really purple?...
...and finishing with spider climb.
Okay, I have no explanation for this. It's MAGIC. Deal with it.
She goes looking for Astraden at the Land residence, looking more than a little exhausted.
Astraden's laying awake, plotting her next rumor, when she hears footsteps by the door. She stands and swiftly moves to the door, unbelted rapier in hand.
"Who's there?"
"Um... Astraden?" Carina's voice comes through the door. "Can we talk for a bit?" Her voice sounds shy and tired.
She flings the rapier back to her bedroll and opens the door. "Sure. What about?"
Carina stretches and smiles wearily. "Well... about what you said earlier today." She steps through the door and sits on the floor. She sets her haversack down... it appears she brought all of her things with her.
"You said there's a culture among the mine managers here... as if you've seen it all for yourself." Her smile fades. "What... what was Diamond Lake like, before Smenk arrived?"
She looks like she's thinking about something.
Eben reacts excitedly at the notion of a trip to the city as well, though his thought process is more complicated. Is the heat off by now? it's been over a year, the municipal guard won't be bothered at this point. But the Amber Scorpions... well, they were pissed and might have longer memories. Stupid really, how was I supposed to know the councilman whose son I fleeced was on their payroll? Not like bought public officials advertise the fact. But... this can be a scouting expedition. And it's not like I'll be there on my own, I'm headed home with plenty of backup, so...
"Yeah!" he replies, enthusiastically. "It'll be great to be back home for a while. I'd be happy to be your tour guide. Astraden, you had that theater you wanted to see, right? And I know this fantastic Rhenee-style cuisine restaurant in Old Town I hope is still running. Their rabbit stew is to die for, I tell you. Kind of a sketchy neighborhood, but worth the trip." Until someone stops him, he happily babbles on at length about various locations he wants to show off.
"Smenk really didn't change much besides the balance of power. Remember those guards Dourstone had? Those weren't meant for adventurers like us. They were there to stop riots. To keep the miners in line." Astraden sits down on the edge of her bedroll.
She glances at Carina's haversack, half-smiling. "By the way, Cuetzpalli is sleeping in the other room, so don't go mixing any explosives, yeah?"
"But yeah, when there's a cave-in - and there were three or four in my time - there's no accountability for the manager. They can just mine it back out and get back to digging. They'll give the families maybe a few months of pay, but that pay is shit. You get like a silver per week. My parents never made enough to feed us all, even when my brother went off on his apprenticeship." She bites her lip. "Honestly, I should be spending some of my loot on that. But when you get to the bottom of it, the managers are still the biggest problem. They can stand to pay more, but they're greedy and paranoid."
"Thanks. Sounds like my old man is in a bit of a jam." She wipes some of Smenk's blood off her brow. "I might see if my brother's still around, too . . ."
"Don't worry, Astraden. I don't plan to--I stayed up late just putting formulae in my book." Carina pats her haversack.
Listening to Astraden, Carina's face falls. Wow... I didn't think it was that bad...
"Oh." She finally says. "I suppose I was just wondering how much of it was their own greed and how much of it was because it was the only way to keep up with Smenk."
She looks down. Should I?... they're not around anymore. I might as well...
"I'm reminded of one case Mom and I had with a miner not too long ago." She says, looking up at the priestess. "Mining injuries can be incredibly serious... sometimes miners would come to us with broken bones sticking up through their skin. At least THOSE can be treated..." She takes a breath. "...the man I'm talking about had his entire arm badly mangled in a mining accident."
She winces and draws her knees up to her chest. "The arm was so badly broken and infected that it was beyond Mom's ability to heal. And... well, do you know how expensive a restoration spell is around here? He couldn't afford it on his pay." She looks down at her feet. "We were forced to amputate it. The poor man couldn't work again..."
"In the end, he took his own life out of despair." She finally looks back up at Astraden again, exhaustion and sorrow plain on her face. "I hoped that the managers really were better than this before all this happened..."
Astraden's eyebrows furrow together through the story. "Smenk was the most honest about it, but Tilgast, Dourstone, the Parrins . . . they're all f*$!ed up. You need to understand is that Diamond Lake is built on mining. Rich people send poor people into dangerous places and the rich people get the gold. When one of my kind gets a broken bone or a bad cough or yes, a mangled limb, they need to go to someone like you and hope they can get it fixed for free."
She smiles at the blue woman, reaching out to grasp her shoulder and look her in the eyes. "You did all you could for that man. He was able to trick death a few more days, and that's all any of us can hope to do. The blame lies with the managers who took his arm, not with one who saved the rest of him."
That evening, Astraden hits the bars. She doesn't bother with a disguise, and actually greets the childhood friends who recognize her. Smenk and Dourstone, she tells them, are just the first. The other managers were in on the cult below the mines as well, and her group just hadn't been able to find any proof of it. Some mine collapses have even been triggered by the managers to deal with unruly labor - she embellishes on the Greysmere Disaster. She doesn't encourage her fellows to take any specific action, but hopes the rumors will propagate themselves and make the miners ready when the next chance comes.
[dice=Knowledge (religion) on any Cuthbertines in the crowds]1d20+9
[dice=Bluff (add 2 for Cuthbertines)]10+11
Astraden leaves each tavern in near-uproar. The miners of Diamond Lake are a weary bunch, and they dislike their bosses enough without being fed inflammatory rumors. She notices several Cuthbertine speakers incorporating her lies into their preachings with particular gusto. A general air of hatred for the authorities—the corrupt mayor, the greedy managers, and even the detached soldiers of the Garrison—is hanging around the town now, like a cloud of inflammable gas.
Carina offers Astraden a tired smile, tempered with concern. "Is... is Zalamandra going to try and make things better?" She asks, barely holding back a yawn. "She's pushy, but I haven't heard any complaints from those working for her..."
She starts digging her bedroll out of her haversack. "Mind if I stay here tonight? We'll be leaving in the morning and I needed to pack my stuff up anyway."
Eben stops by the general store the next morning to restock his supply of trail rations.
"You'd have to ask Eben about that! But from what I've seen, she seems to treat her people well - sees 'em as employees, not subjects."
"Yeah, go ahead. There's another bare patch of floor upstairs if you want some privacy."
Carina gives Astraden a tired smile and starts heading upstairs. "Thanks."
-----------
The morning was a surprisingly pleasant one. Perhaps it was only because Carina was finally leaving Diamond Lake (and if I don't EVER see this place again, it'll frankly be too soon), but after letting Venelle know where she'd be going in case Alessia came back, she stands at the edge of town, her blue eyes shining with wonder and glee.
Finally... a chance to be on the road again!
Farrukh does a little dance in place as they meet up to go.
"Alright! Let's hit the road!"
It is the 8th of Planting. As dissent spreads throughout the town of Diamond Lake, the adventurers are off towards better things: The greatest city of the world, Greyhawk! The Gem of the Flanaess!
Always eccentric, Zagig's sanity began to gradually decline after a few centuries, and many of Greyhawk's citizens lived in fear of his outbursts of humor and rage. In one typical meeting of the city Directors during Growfest, Zagig was attended by a black dragon he had brought from the Mistmarsh, several homonculi, and a flesh golem clothed as the Overking of the Great Kingdom.
It was at this time that one of the oligarchs, asked what possibly the affluent city could have lacked, said in a guarded moment: "sanity."
Although Zagig's "oddness" is well-known—especially after his becoming Zagyg, god of occult lore and eccentricity—he is remembered by many as the best ruler Greyhawk ever had. After he left, things began to decline, though Greyhawk was notable in staying almost completely clear of the Greyhawk Wars that ended eleven years ago (the Wars were named for where the final treaty was signed).
The journey is long and tedious. As expected, the road is perfectly safe—monsters and bandits alike stay well away from the Free City.
It is the 13th of Planting.
Gaining access to the Free City is a lengthy endeavor that involves waiting in a long line. It's a hot, sticky day, without even the faintest breeze, and right before the party in the line are three smelly gnolls with halberds and an even smellier druid. The party is made to wait two hours as the gnolls and human bicker in a growling tongue.
Finally, the party of six (plus a dinosaur) finds itself at the gates. Two city guards step up.
“Well what do we have here?" one remarks. "Fancy folk here to spend their coin in the Free City. Well, what’s your business here? And be prepared to turn out your pockets.”
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Buying a horse, buying a horse, buying a horse. I. Am. Buying a horse. Buying a horse, buying a horse, buying a horse. I. Am. Buying a horse. buying a horse, buying....
This particular litany has been running through Eben's head since about noon on Planting 3rd. By now it has aquired not just a singsong verse for him, but a full four-part harmony has built up around it. At nights around the campfire he's tried sounding it out on his harmonica; the strange looks he's gotten are in part because he's not overly musically inclined, but also because it's not a particularly interesting bit of music doggerel. Nevertheless, he bloody well means to pay attention to it the next time a multi-day trip comes up. He'd made the trip on foot before, but that was under much more pressing circumstances. And it had been more start and stop, wandering from community to community before finding a temporary 'home' in Diamond Lake. He'd never done it as a marathon, especially with a fitness nut like Tanith setting the pace. No, the next time Eben found himself traveling from point A to point B when more than twenty miles separated the two letters, it was going to be with his well-shaped buttocks firmly planted in a saddle, thank you.
That said, between liberal uses of prestidigitation and mending, he arrives at the gates of Greyhawk City not looking at all like the grime-covered, sweat-stained traveler that he otherwise would. Safe to say, he looks as fresh and neatly pressed (and smells pretty nice too) as he did when leaving the Emporium for the last time. Much more appealing than the gnolls and druid ahead of the party, or (not that he'd say such out loud) his own traveling companions themselves, for that matter.
"As you gentlemen say, we're here to spend money, for the most part. Shopping, seeing the sights, and probably drinking well and long into the night!" Eben replies to the guardsmen.
He does cast an aside glance, not at Cuetzpalli, whose mushroom acquisition has completely fallen out of his memory, but at Carina, who probably has a lot of blowing-up-a-city-block-in-one-go capacity on her.
"No business in particular. Just got cash to burn and never seen the city before."
"Though if the sights are anything like the smells, I may yet rethink this trip." he thinks for a second, and calls out to the now distant gnoll and Druid party.
"No offense!"
The gnolls don't turn around, though one of them raises his hand to make a gesture unfamiliar to Farrukh.
"Right, right," the guard says. "Will you submit to a search? Just a formality."
The other guard nods. "A formality," he echoes. "We can't let any contraband in the city."
The trip to Greyhawk gives Carina a rare opportunity to more closely examine her arsenal of bombs. Sure, they were volatile and dangerous whenever she handled them, but as she's been learning recently, she runs out of them more often than she'd like. She spends most of her rest time tinkering with them, but doesn't make much progress on the road.
The gates of the Free City are a welcome sight for the young undine. Her feet hurt, her back aches, and she's in dire need of a good bath. The gnolls and druid making a scene before her make her groan in resignation.
Of course. Can't just walk into the city, pay your entrance fees, and go about your merry way. Gotta make EVERYTHING difficult, don't we?
She keeps her grumbling to herself, for the most part. When the guards approach, she just nods along with the party.
Tanith is a terror on the road, finally in an element where he can put the full extent of his athleticism to use. He alternates between pressing the largest stones that can be found alongside the road overhead, long stretches of jogging in place while the party continues at a leisurely pace or quick set of one-armed pushups (usually with something or someone balanced on the square of his broad back). He’s elated whenever Cuetzpalli (or anyone else joins in) and loudly thanks Kord for the beautiful day whenever he strips off his sweat-soaked shirt to cool down.
Though the time seems to pass in the blink of an eye for him, Tanith is excited as anyone to get inside the city’s gates and enjoy a cool drink.
”Just looking forward to seeing the Free City for the first time”, the big Kordite man answers the guard with a brawny arm wrapped around Carina.
”Anything you want to see first Red?”
The guards examine Farrukh's klar with particular interest. One of them tsks, but says nothing. They examine his potions, tasting one (if allowed) and exchanging scandalized looks. They glance at his thieves' tools and raise eyebrows.
The guards look over Eben's wide array of wands with clear skepticism. "Ooh, a playing card deck—ever play Fifty-Two Card Pickup, Alynn?" Aside from making fun of Eben's various performer's oddities, they don't seem to care much about him.
The pair of guards take extra time searching Astraden, cracking off-color jokes about Olidammaran priestesses all the while—at least until told off, at which point they profusely apologize, blaming the heat. They examine her flasks of oil, liquid ice, and acid, giving low whistles. "Boy, this is gonna be one of them long days, isn't it, Flemment?"
The guards seem especially wary of Cuetzpalli and his beast, giving them plenty of personal space as they "search". "You got a license for that critter, I trust?"
"Good gods, man, there should be a size limit on visitors. I swear this guy's half-hill giant. Listen, buddy, just because there's no law against drinking bull's strength potions by the gallon you should do it. Real strength is knowing when to say no."
The guards examine Carina closely—though wary of the obvious chemistry between her and Tanith, they look much more wary of her actual chemistry when they notice it. They look between each other, then back at the "portable alchemist's lab". Both shake their heads sadly.
Finally, the two straighten. "Right," the one called Flemment says. He gives a long, disapproving sigh.
"Right," Alynn agrees, also sighing. "Some of your gear is contraband. I'm afraid we'll have to confiscate it during your stay in the city."
"Nothing personal, guys," Flemment says, "just doing our jobs."
"Just business, of course."
"As am I, Tanith." She hands over her pack when her turn comes. "I've got nothing out of the ordinary."
Tanith laughs.
”It’s all real”, he says with a double bicep flex. ”Rewards for obeying the teachings of Kord. Say, you don’t know where the Brawler’s temple is do you?”
”What? Really? Oh…”
Carina has no idea of their real intentions, but she gets the impression they're calling her alchemy kit 'contraband'.
Something snaps.
"Sirs, I'm a chirurgeon. My alchemy kit is what I use to brew my curatives and elixirs. All the vials I have on me? Almost entirely medicinal. This really isn't necessary. And my healer's kit?" She holds it up. "Entirely legal. I need all this for my job, just like you need your armour and weapons for yours."
"And, Tanith, I think I'd like to see that temple of Kord." She nods at him. "Maybe one of the priests there can give me the second restoration I need..."
Eben is perfectly happy to show off a little of his entertainment gear as he is searched: juggling some balls, a few card flourishes, etc. "The wands are harmless, guys. Mostly just useful for more juggling..."
"Huh." Eben's face falls a bit. Hell, given his experiences of old in the city, he should have anticipated this and worked on smuggling some stuff in. "Which items are a problem, exactly?"
The guards exchange looks. Flemment sighs. "Oh, alright. We're just messing with you."
Alynn signals for the gates to open, then turns back to the party. "Welcome to the Free City!"
"Thank you very much, sirs." Carina smiles and nods before digging into her haversack and giving one of them some gold.
"A tip, for your diligence." She smiles.
She promptly steps through the gates, waving back at the party. "C'mon! I wanna take a look around!"
Tanith laughs.
”It’s all real”, he says with a double bicep flex. ”Rewards for obeying the teachings of Kord. Say, you don’t know where the Brawler’s temple is do you?”
Alynn's face falls. "You mean...you don't know? I figured that was why you were here. Coincidence, I guess.
"See, there...was a fire, just a few weeks ago. Place burned to a cinder, along with its main priest."Flemment leans in, smiling. "But don't you worry, there's more than one Kordian shrine."
"Oh, aye!" Alynn quickly perks up. "Plus Yondalla's offering a special sale on Deathwatch potions, I hear!"
”Burned to a cinder? And you say the high priest was killed?” Tanith’s mood rapidly darkens. ”I want to know more. Who knows about the fire?”
Carina promptly skids to a stop. "Oh..." Her face falls.
Alynn shrugs. "Happened in Midnight's Muddle—that's an old neighborhood over that way." He points. "It was an honest accident, though."
Flemment winks. "I wouldn't let it ruin you and the lady's day out, eh?"
"Yeah, of course", the big man says with a bit of a forced smile. "Come on Red. Let's see the sights."
Carina nods and walks next to Tanith, her aching legs taking the chance to reassert themselves.
"So, did you have someplace in mind for after we visit Kord's temple?" She asks, stretching.
"We should get rooms somewhere first, have a place to set our stuff down, rest, change and..." Eben tries not to make this last item too pointedly obvious, but... "Get baths."
"Some soap at least would be nice."
Carina groans. "Yeah, tell me about it... I feel soooooo gross right now."
”The temple will have baths”, Tanith offers. ”I’m sure we can get cleaned up there.”
The thought of the temple's baths at once puts a spring in Carina's step and a deeper shade of blue on her face. Apparently, it's her new body's way of blushing.
"Um... Tanith, how are the baths usually arranged?" She asks, her eyes widening slightly.
I mean, it's not like EVERYONE here has seen me naked already... but I was kinda sorta completely dead so I'm not sure that counts and gods above I'm digging myself a deeper hole stop thinking about it.
”I’ll admit, I’ve never been to one. I’ve only seen the diagrams in the Good Book but they’re described as wide-open sprawling spaces designed to sooth aching muscles, stimulate healing in battered bodies, and relax the spirit. I think I’ll be happy if it’s even half that good”, the big man laughs.
Noticing Carina’s new unique form of blushing, the brawny Kordite laughs again.
”You’re not shy are you? I thought with all the miners you and your mother put back together you’d have seen your share of unclothed bodies.”
"Well, yeah..." She blushes a little more. "But that's tempered by the fact that those miners tended to have serious injuries. It's kinda hard to focus on anything else when the shirtless miner in front of you is coughing up blood with one of his ribs sticking out of his skin."
Carina looks down, too embarrassed to make eye contact anymore... but evidently not enough to stop talking.
"And it'll be the first time I'm naked in front of everybody and it won't involve being reincarnated or raised or anything like that--" She promptly stops talking.
That did it.
Tanith smiles and wraps an arm around Carina. ”Just keep your eyes on me and I’ll do the same. It’ll be like we’re the only two in there.”
Carina sucks in a breath of air. "O-okay..." She gives Tanith a small smile.
Tanith and Carina arrive at the Free City's shrine to Kord. The outer sanctum of the structure has no walls; just a ring of great marble pillars. At its center is a small, more modern-looking building where the priests likely sleep. Also within the structure is a large swimming pool, where a few dozen people are taking succor from the sweltering noon weather.
A loincloth-clad halfling runs up to Tanith and Carina. He's very large (by halfling standards), and immediately seizes the pair in a somewhat lopsided—but very strong—embrace. "Welcome! You are new to the wonderful City, yes? Fellow servants of The Brawler?"
The halfling starts trying to drag them towards the pool, tugging on their arms like an eager child. "Come! Come, friends, to the water! You smell like my aunt's egg curry! We must get you clean!"
Next to the splendid-looking temple is a small lopsided hovel. A pair of ugly, rat-faced goblins stand watch outside. A black and white checkered cloth hangs by the door.
Astraden and Eben find their way to the Blueberry Theater. It's a grand place, with a prominent red-gold color scheme. Two actors are currently performing a parody of a classic play, though they've twisted it to instead mock the prince of Redhand. According to them, the Hextorian prince consorts with modrons and uses a pacifier.
Astraden and Eben are able to pick out Madame Goschild, the young half-elf who runs the Blueberry, watching the performance from a private booth. There's no interrupting the play, of course. Eben knows that some viewers bring rotten fruit to throw at poor performers—or loud fellow audience members. This play is approaching the midway point, though...
-+1 Scimitar (2000 gp)
-+1 armor (1000 gp)
-+1 Shield (1150 gp)
-+1 Cloak of Resistances (1000 gp)
1) Buy a belt of strength +2
3) Buy some barding for Spiny (dunno what would be available on short notice...)
It is not difficult for Farrukh and Cuetzpalli to find the armor and weaponry, but the belt, cloak and barding prove substantially more difficult.
The burly halfling’s enthusiasm helps Tanith shake off whatever worries are occupying his thoughts and he happily follows along.
”We certainly do need a bath”, the big man says with a hearty laugh - more at home than he had ever felt before in his life. ”I am Tanith and this beauty is Carina. What do we call you brother?”
"Well--" Carina starts to speak, but gets cut off by the burly halfling's hug. "--OOF!"
She's quite surprised by the halfling's arm strength, and she goes along with him. The idea of a bath was quite appealing, despite the presence of other people here.
Not that it makes her feel any less self-conscious.
"Welcome, Tanith and Carina! Happy—so happy you visit. Yenaver. Yenaver Graveltoes. I am the keeper of this shrine."