In reply to Froodle (msg # 32):

Rottimer nods to Foodle, and says openly "Well said, this sounds like something we have the right.....temperament.....for." And then adds quietly "But, give a thought. We may have 2 birds in one bush here. I've been in Sharn long enough to know that information doesn't come without a scuffle. We might be able to help Rian and get a trophy in the process we could bring to Devlin."
----------------------------------------
Status:
Devlin d'Deneith near Rottimer and Froodle.
Drake near Rian and Pro.
Dwarf looking like he would like to talk to the party after Devlin leaves.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:22, Thu 19 Nov 2020.

Drake puts out his hand and shakes Rian’s hand
‘Drake pleased to meet you. Your not keeping us it’s a pleasure to help restore some order. What work could we assist with, I’d hope it’s in keeping with our skills, and is an honourable endeavour?’

Meanwhile he notices the dwarf hovering and overhears the conversation with Devlin which also sparks his interest. More opportunities to sharpen his skills what a beneficial skirmish this has turned out to be. Hmm a possibility to assist all these individuals, what glory that would bring he thinks.




----------------------------------------
Status:
Devlin d'Deneith near Rottimer and Froodle.
Drake near Rian and Pro.
Dwarf looking like he would like to talk to the party after Devlin leaves.
</quote>

In reply to Rottimer Lind (msg # 33):

Frug joins Rottimer and looking at the constructs, scratches his cap and sighs.

"Well," Devlin glances over at the dwarf artisan with a scowl and says ruefully, "I may be in the market for a dragonhide...." he shakes his head. "But even if you were to go dragonhunting and succeed, it takes people and resources to preserve it properly. No, nevermind. Look, it's simply about what's impressive. These things you just fought? Not impressive. Some street thug's dirty ear? Of course not. It needs to be something that belonged to a worthy adversary, who wouldn't give it up willingly.

"And this is Sharn. There's no shortage of thugs in this city that need to be put down for the sake of the peace. Prove you've done something like that and House Deneith won't be the only ones interested in your services."


The borborygmus of a dragonborn is an awe inspiring thing. Several food vendors hear it from yards away and can be seen mentally calculating whether it's smarter to double their prices, or halve them. Devlin's eye's go wide and he laughs, not unpleasantly. "Well, well. If I were half as hungry as you, I'd be out there making sure everyone in this accursed city knew my name. Well, I suppose they do, in my case. Now, you really must excuse me. Dol Dorn guide you," he say way of valediction, offering a abbreviated gesture to respect to the Sovereign of strength and battle. Then he departs.


Rian pulls a very serious expression. "Oh, yes, honorable. And I can't say I know your skills, except that you seem to be able to take care of yourselves, which is half of an inquisitive's work anyway.

"What the Council is looking for is information about a black market ice selling operation. Now, now, I know that it's not a break in at a Kundarak vault, but one needs to start small. And it's a service to the Council. Look into it, then find us and we'll, uh, pass the information along and get you your share of the fee."

Rian suggests some areas to search. They're outside the currently "civilized" areas of Lower Dura, and dozens of levels down from where the party is right now. He's evasive about the fee.

----------------------------------------
Status:
Drake near Rian and Pro.
Dwarf looking like he would like to talk to the party after Devlin leaves.

Drake listens intently to Devlins proposal and is intrigued at what a worthy adversary would be and who the street thugs may be who would fit this catergory!
Drake uses his knowledge of Sharn and his dungeoneering skills to determine who a worthy adversary may be.



Drake  Is interested in this proposal, he uses his insight to try and establish Rian’s truthfulness regarding the potential share and his diplomacy skills asking ‘You seem a little vague on the share of the fee, could you be more specific as I’ll need to speak to the rest of the party about the details. Any detail you can provide will assist and in turn any quickly completed task that would aid the council, would be beneficial to you with the fee and the honor this will reflect on your efficiency as inquisitor I am sure wouldn’t hurt your position.’

Drake appeals to Rians pocket and status utilizing his skill in diplomacy and feeling a very good connection with Rian in doing so.


----------------------------------------
Status:
Drake near Rian and Pro.
Dwarf looking like he would like to talk to the party after Devlin leaves.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:00, Wed 25 Nov 2020.

Froodle now concentrates on lunch, waiting for Devlin to leave

He's hungry and the stallholders know it, if his insight reveals any price increases, then he will use his presence (intimidate) to restore their natural level.

He keeps an eye on the dwarf, the odd eye contact to say "we know you are waiting, we are keen to see what you have to say"

In reply to Froodle (msg # 38):

Frug is offering help to the returning merchants. Seeing where he can fix things and keeping an ear open for anyone talking about any of the parties we’re talking with. Looking for people that may have stumbled over themselves and got hurt to offer healing.

Rottimer's ears perk up when he hears talk of a black market ice selling operation. In his youth, black market ice was a constant source of turmoil for many Rottimer knew. It would seep into neighborhoods and slowly but surely destroy what little social fabric held things together in the lower regions of Sharn. It was only by a miracle that Rottimer avoided its predations and was able acquire a useful skill to get out. A miracle and a good friend. A friend long gone. Perhaps it was time to mete out some justice for past wrongs. If Rottimer had a chance to frustrate even a small ring of ice distribution by informing to the council, he'd jump at the opportunity. Just then Rottimers thoughts were disrupted by a mildly disturbing rumble coming from Froodle.

In reply to Frug (msg # 39):

Frug comes up to the Dwarf, as he is helping and healing the local merchants. “How do you do? I’m Frug and I noticed that you’re interested in the way that we handled those constructs.” Frug offers a hand in greeting.

The dwarf wipes his hands on his apron and takes Frug's. "Teldorthan Goldcap, at your service. And it's more that you seems like you're not afraid of much. The rest of us hid behind closed doors and prayed to the Sovereign Host or even the Dark Six that someone would keep those things at bay. So, my thanks to you.

"Uh, if you're looking for paying work, I have some I can offer you. I was supposed to receive a delivery a few days ago, but the courier was waylaid. They survived, Host be praised, but they lost the case over the side of the bridge they were on. When we went to look for it, we saw it being carried off by a group of what looked like kobolds. The one ordering the others around was wearing some sort of a bone mask, so we figured they were a gang of some kind, and not to be trifled with.

"I hate to say it, but the path they were on looked like they'd be heading into that fog zone that's sprung up on the outskirts, and down a ways. There's not a chance of me or mine heading into there, so I figured it was lost. Things happen, you know? But it means I can't fill a particular order, and my customer," Goldcap glances in the direction Develin d'Deneith had taken, "was none too sympathetic.

"So, to keep a long story from going longer, if you and your friends were to fetch back my property, I'd pay you for it, 200 gold Galifars. I need it sooner rather than later, though., as you may have heard. What do you say?"

---

The fog zone is, naturally, a region of fog. Except it's not natural. It's persistent in a way that normal fog banks in Sharn are not, and by all accounts it's far colder within the fog than it should be.

The party will find, upon discussion, that by some kind of coincidence the fog zone is one of the areas Rian suggested be searched for signs of the ice runners.

Status:
Drake near Rian and Pro.
Frug talking to Teldorthan Goldcap.

Quests:
Obtain a trophy from a worthy adversary: 600 xp.
Gather information about the source of the illegal ice: 400 xp.
Return Goldcap's property: 400 xp, 200 gp.

Keeping an eye on the dwarf was a good idea thinks Froodle to himself, appetite now sated. His ears prick up as Frug’s conversation has revealed a name, Goldcap. No, not one he recognises, but maybe one to remember.

He wanders over to join Frug and chips into the conversation. “That sounds like just our sort of thing, Kobolds, pah, I swat them like flies”
Froodle thinks to himself he would prefer a more worthy adversary, but no doubt they will present themselves in time for the quest offered by Devlin. The dwarf is offering something right now.

His mind returns to the task being offered and he asks “Would you happen to have a map, showing where this happened? Or at least some simple directions we can follow? Also, can you describe the case and contents, in the event they have opened it?”

“I am willing to help, and I’m sure my comrades will be too once we have purchased any necessary supplies”

Status:
Drake near Rian and Pro.
Frug and Froodle talking to Teldorthan Goldcap.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:18, Wed 25 Nov 2020.

In reply to Froodle (msg # 43):

“Thanks for your complement Mr. Goldcap! It looks like we’re going to be looking into this, so we get to return to this great market.” Frug puts both hands around his staff. Looking around he smiles, “Glad we could help the good people here.”

Rottimer nods to get the attention of his fellows. He quietly says, "A Dwarf with gold to spare. A case gone missing. A mysterious fog. Kobold gangs in masks. This sounds like something we can really sink our teeth into. Let's hope we're the only ones doing the biting."

Then he checks his bow string, tightens his boot laces and prepares to move when the group is ready.

To learn what gangs, cults or what have you are making the streets of Sharn unsafe... er... or to put fact to any suppositions, Drake and his allies will have to head out of the more civilized areas and into those parts of the town that decent...ish... citizens avoid.


Rian is truthful, but he can tell Drake is looking for any holes in his statements. And he's not eager to commit on the subject of money. "Oh, uh, fee, yes. I said: 'fee.'" He coughs, then turns slightly in Pro's direction, and says more firmly, "Your share of the fee, you ask?"

Pro, who had been examining one of the humanoid constructs, looks up, as if his name has been called. His damaged face is even more inscrutable than that of the typical warforged, so it's not clear if he's expressing surprise, embarrassment, or anything else. He looks back down, and snaps his fingers. Rian glances fully in his direction.

"You'll have to excuse me, but Pro is asking for my assistance. But look, I'm just tossing some work your way. There are no guarantees in this business, you just learn what there is to learn and do what you can with it. And keep your head down."


Rian turns back at that. He's either thinking something over, or appealing to the heavens for patience. "Alright: the first two locations I gave you are probably going to be busts. They were just closest, and they've been lucky for me in the past. But if you want to dive right in, try that last one. It's in that 'fog zone,' or whatever it is. Something tells me that's the source of the problem. Now, I have to get back to this."


Goldcap doesn't have a map, but he's able to give you rough directions. The fog zone is down quite a few floors (not that there is such a thing as a standard "floor" in Sharn) and on the edge of where anyone would normally want to travel. It will take most of a day to reach, but there's no real "night" this close to the bases of the towers. The fog itself apparently wraps around and through several towers. No one's sure how deep it is.

He describes the case and admits that inside the case is a cured green dragon hide from which he plans to make a suit of armor. It's apparent that Devlin d'Deneith is the customer for that armor.

---

Status:
Rian and Pro are busy now with their investigation, and have no further information about the case of the illegal ice merchants.
Teldorthan would like to help further, but he has no further information. If asked for an advance, he gets a bit sour.

However, the party did keep the market from being ruined and anyone from being hurt, so between Goldcap's need for this job to be done and the goodwill of the rest of the market goers, the party can obtain a free potion of healing. Please note who will be carrying this.

You should all have an adventurer's pack and other basic equipment. If you feel the need to buy anything else, hey, you're in a market. Most mundane items are available, as are rituals and ritual components.

I'm not going to play out the journey to the fog zone. The party is lucky and has no encounters of note on the way there.

In reply to DM Paul (msg # 46):

Drake nods to Rian and Pro and joins the rest of the party and passes on his conversation and what he found out to them.

It’s clear that their fates lie within the fog zone. ‘Honor awaits us in the fog zone it appears’

Drake purchases 2 x healing potions at one of the stalls in the market, he nods when he’s shown the healing potion that was given as a reward, he looks towards Froodle and says ‘ You are likely to be seeking the most honor, I think the potion should be yours’

He looks around the group and feels excitement and anticipation in the coming days, he checks his equipment and takes a seat resting before the action whilst the others speak to other stall holders. He is ready when the party is.

Honor awaits.

Froodle looks around the market stalls, adventure awaits. He checks over his equipment and decides to purchase a climbers kit and another couple of sunrods to supplement those in his adventurers pack.

He is happy to hold the party healing potion, though acknowledges that it is available for all and such items must be used sparingly, not at the first sign of a mere scratch.

He too sits in readiness, deep in thought (well, as deep as a dragonborn fighter can get)

The party sets off.

It's obvious that the party have departed one of the currently "civilized" sections of the Lower Dura district because the party's surroundings immediately become a little darker. Of course, there's no less natural light here than where the party just were, but there's a change to the artificial light. It's hard to know if people vacate an area because there's less upkeep of the magical torches and lanterns there, or vice versa, but instead of pools, cones and lozenges of light overlapping overlapping themselves wherever one looks, now there are noticeable blots of darkness. To those with the ability to sense magic, there are flickers here and there of magical graffiti, though nothing is clearly visible without close attention.

These areas aren't entirely uncivilized. There are still bridges and staircases and vast amounts of space within the towers, and there are those who live and work here, out of necessity or practicality. Here and there are businesses: less reputable inns and taverns, and sellers who can't afford the rent they'd have to pay in brighter areas, or just don't feel like making the bribes that would be required to keep their unpleasant trades from landing them in jail. The party also start to see another reason for the deeper darkness: large patches of soot and ash where someone made a natural fire to warm themselves or some food, or to keep some creature at bay. Blackened fragments of bones, books, doors and furniture crunch underfoot as the party pass these blemishes.

All in all, though, the party see few active signs of those who live out here, and down here, though there could be any number of them just behind then nearest wall, or across a bridge that isn't in the direction the party is headed. It no doubt pays to stay quiet and out of sight in areas of the city like this.

After several hours, the air, which had been stuffy and warm, begins to become stuffy and cool. Where the party had been able to see several stories down, they can now only clearly see the next lower bridge, or the next nearest tower. They've reached the fog zone.

And Rian's tip pans out almost immediately. Ahead, where two bridges cross, is a round area with a very dirty fountain in the center. Whatever magic or artifice had caused it to flow appears to have run down. Sitting on it and standing near it is a band of goliaths, wearing furs that they might have brought with them from some mountain fastness, and holding picks, hammers and axes. Many of them appear to be injured, and one of them is peering at another's injured leg, while murmuring and shaking a totem.

Two goliaths, the least injured of the band, are loading up a pair of small wagons. One is wrapping a few blocks of ice in furs, the other is stowing climbing gear and other tools. The mood appears glum.

One or two of them notice the party's approach. The largest of the group, a bandage covering one eye, stands and moves forward. "If you are from the Council," he says in a voice like boulders shifting, "go and tell them that we will harvest no more ice. We ask that we be allowed to depart with our last meager load. We have paid for it with much blood and we will use it only for our ceremonies. I, Gruthorn of the Spire Clan, have spoken." He makes no threatening movement, but watches the party carefully with his good eye.

---

I'm assuming the party is moving with relative caution, not drawing a lot of attention to themselves, and looking like they wouldn't be worth bothering.

The names "Gruthorn" and "Spire Clan" mean nothing to anyone in the party. While some of their implements could be used as weapons, they're all consistent with the cutting of ice. Gruthorn is telling the truth.

Their injuries don't look like battle wounds, but like what one would suffer from nasty traps designed to discourage rather than kill.

In reply to DM Paul (msg # 49):

Drake nods at Gruthorn in a congenial manner.
He takes a relaxed stance, feeling no need at this point to ready himself for combat.

‘It is good to meet you, I am Drake, we have not been sent by the council, we have other errands to perform. But should we be asked we will pass on the information on your behalf. How did you get your injuries? It appears you have conducted yourselves with honor. Is there something further down we need to be aware of?”

Drake looks at the rest of party, hoping they will take the same tac in speaking to the injured Goliath party. Drake feels more comfortable in these less than desirable surroundings, at home, at ease. He has confidence in the parties abilities and feels no reason to feel uneasy.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:53, Thu 03 Dec 2020.

Gruthorn seems surprised at the polite speech. He glances at another nearby goliath, who shrugs, also puzzled.

He turns back to you and nods. "Well. My people were injured during our last ice hunt. Someone set cowardly snares in our path. We are hardy folk, but these traps were devised to pierce, poison and confound us. Clearly we have transgressed yet another of the strange rules of this place." He looks up with a frown of disdain meant for the entirety of Sharn.

"You do not appear to be girded for ice hunting, so you need not fear the same dangers we encountered. Yet, have a care. This ice and cold, though it was an answer to our hopes, must have a source. In our homeland, the coldest, iciest peaks are the homes of devils or great wryms who thrive where no warmth can be found."

The two by the wagon rumble a few syllables in the Giant tongue. Gruthorn nods at them and the others appear to be getting ready to leave. Gruthorn stays engaged with the party, his good eye shifting between his people and the newcomers.[hr]
Status:
On a crossroads of bridges, near a damaged fountain.
Gruthorn near party.
Other goliaths preparing to move out.

In reply to DM Paul (msg # 51):

Rottimer approaches Drake and says "He seems to be telling the truth. This doesn't appear like any black market ice running ring I've seen before. And it seems they're in communication with the council already. I wonder if they've seen any sign of the Kobolds or their warren? Perhaps they were responsible for the traps."

In reply to Rottimer Lind (msg # 52):

With her patients] now starting to move about, the group's shaman comes over to the party. She looks each of the group members up and down with eyes that clearly see more than most - though whether that's due to wisdom, spiritualism or just insanity is difficult to gauge. Then she turns to take in both Drake and Froodle, the only two who rise to her height, and says to them, in Draconic:

---

Spoiler for Draconic: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
"Get a move on! Lazy rats! Boss! Treasure!"

---

Then she cackles, and starts to turn away. Gruthorn stays her, gently but firmly. Perhaps he sees the reaction of those in the party who speak Draconic. "What have you said to them, witch woman?"

She turns and glares at Gruthorn with an expression that takes him aback and loosens his grip. She mumbles some words in heavily-accented Giant. Then she moves off.

Gruthorn turns back to you. "My apologies if she was insulting. She does not speak your language," he says to the dragonborn, "but she says she heard those words, or words like them, carried on the winds of this place, up from the depths, from three..." he frowns, converting units in his head. "Ten of your 'storeys' from right here. I do not know why she felt the need to tell you, or tell you in that way."

---

Anyone can read the text in the spoiler block (and in any spoiler blocks) but I put it there for anyone who doesn't want to see it. Anyone who speaks Draconic should look at it, though, which is at least Drake and Froodle.

Let me know what the party does next. I realize no one person speaks for the party, but I'm hoping you'll back each other up.

Froodle gives a nod to Drake, he appears to have understood the words of the shaman too.

He turns to Rottimer and Frug and translates what he has heard into the common tongue “The shaman spoke words she had heard deep below ground. She spoke of lazy rats, a boss and treasure, it certainly sounds like kobolds to me. Looks like we are on the right track, but they have taken the loot underground.”

Froodle checks over his equipment once more, then looks around and says to his companions, within earshot of the Grothorn and the other goliaths, “We have made friends here, but it is time to move out and follow our own paths”

In reply to Froodle (msg # 54):

Rottimer nods at Froodle in appreciate for the translation. It was as he suspected.

Rottimer then takes special note of the types and severity of the injuries he is able to discern from this distance. In the hopes it will give him some small benefit as they perhaps encounter similar difficulties.

In reply to Froodle (msg # 54):

Drake nods to Gruthorn and says

‘It is time we continue our journey. May Bahamut keep you and guide you.’

He turns to the rest of our party ‘Shall we continue our investigations. I am ready to travel further if you are’

Drake hefts his adventurers pack, and loosens the longsword in its scabbard, as he turns from the Goliaths. He stares into the murk of the fog ready for the onward journey, he feels the weight of his shield lighten at the thought of adventure, and the chance of honor, that awaits below.

In reply to Drake (msg # 56):

“I’m ready to visit under the earth again. I always find it inspiring some idea and it will be nice to earn something that gives me the means to make those ideas come to life. Not like those atrocities in the market mind you, but something kind and helpful.” Frug doesn’t exactly address anyone and doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to the giants. He turns his attention back to his fellow adventures and says, “Oh thanks for sharing the translation, it through my thoughts off.”
Looking in the direction we plan to go, Frug waits for someone else to lead and hops into the middle of the party line. So that he can fall back easily.