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The Price of A Dance - Entry 8

We investigated the bodies of the similarly clothed assailants. Under their cold gear they wore black leather armor and brandished squid tattoo. Caldair recognized the tattoo and winced, stricken with fear. He said was Kraken – which meant little to me but from his look they clearly were not to be trifled with. We headed down the mountain and met up with Theodred who apparently climbed down the side of the mountain like a spider. I must say that is an appealing dweomer

When we returned to Waterdeep the guild displayed exceeding gratitude. They hailed us heroes, though really, we did little. The dragon still hunts and now its wrath is warranted. We live in the shadow of her fury. The Magi S’Zaro, one of the leaders within the guild, is an odd fellow, earnest and well meaning but seemingly a little scattered. I have not figured him out yet though he seems trustworthy. He tells us that we will be granted access to the next level in the library – we meaning Ayther,Victor, Draznor and I.

S’Zaro invites us to the celebration ceremony scheduled for the following evening where he says we will be honored and inducted into the upper levels and allowed access to more remote libraries. I leap midair. I am giddy with glee. Had there been time, I would have liked to purchase a dress. Had there been time, I might have had one made of the silk we acquired from Rander, but alas, no seamstress could possibly have sew quickly enough to whip up garb for an such an event with so little notice.

The day of the ceremony I spent trying to track the origin of the Rander silk and did – to a merchant in Lowick. The threads of mystery weave tighter. The next shipment is due to arrive in about a month.

The ceremony is mirthful and we are venerated. "Ama" (mother) would have been proud of me. I AM my mother’s daughter – I am proud of her and myself; both us talented in the arts. I feel her spirit keeps me company during the gala. Part way through the ceremony however, Draznor taps me and says – “look” -- as Magi Agonya and Sepharak interrupt the officiate to object to our induction. Apparently access to higher levels within the guild is limited and we have taken coveted slots. We are apparently rash and heroic where tenure and lucubration should triumph. S’Zaro chides the other Magi for disturbing the ceremony saying they should have waited to voice their objections. This was not the time or place. Disgusted, Agonya, Sepharak and others leave ostentatiously.

We have clearly antagonized some within the guild.

Afterwards, a guild member named Emirik asks Draznor and I too meet him an hour before midnight on the level of the forbidden library we now have access to. We accept cautiously but remain skeptical. After tonight’s earlier outbursts we will need to tread carefully. No one need need tell us -- be wary.

The meeting with Emirik is a dance. Each of us moves in time to the beat of something distantly perceived, each avoids stepping on the foot of the other. In the end little is said, little is revealed. No one is bruised or wounded this time, but there will be a next time – we know this. He tells us about different factions within the guild and asks which we will align with. We respond that we are ‘too new’ and craftily avoid to commit to either side -- Agonya’s or S’Zaro’s, but I also sense that neutrality for too long will be eyed suspiciously. S'zaro apparently leads one of the major factions interested in continuing old guild traditions, while Agonya's coterie wants to explore new realms of magic, some of which are controversial and dangerous, but could lead to power much faster. Emirik, slyly, reveals little about himself either. He seems honest enough but this political game feels dangerous. We are on a dagger’s edge with a steep fall to either side and the blade’s pressure cutting our feet. I am reminded of an elven bladedance I once heard about that was danced many, many moons ago where partners would do lively steps amidst a floor littered with sharp daggers and swords. The dance symbolized the tension between freedom and structure, between danger and safety, between comfort and risk. Our meeting mimics that dance.

We head to the library. Can there be a better fantasy for a little elven girl than special privileges to read rare and wondrous tomes.

Agonya tries to intimidate us in the library, but luckily S’Zaro suspected something like this might happen and accompanies us. The room seems to be a dimension to another plane. It is no wonder that access is controlled. I am not ready to embark on that adventure just yet so we do not explore much.

When we meet up again with our non guild comrades the next day, Caldair has learned that the tattooed men on the mountain are part of a deadly league of assassins called Kraken. When his mother and father learned too much about them they abducted or killed his parents who are currently missing. Ayther tells us that Rellik, the kind fellow who concocted our antidotes to the toxic gas, is missing since the night before. When we go to investigate we find a singed wall, bloodstained floors, strewn glass and bottles and overturned shelves. Oh, that we had been here for Rellik. Is this the price of success? Witnesses reveal that the kidnappers looked like assassins and eventually among the dock ward inhabitants, we learn that Hadar, a swarthy ranger seems to have kidnapped Rellik in a cart.

Eventually after asking what felt like hordes, our search leads to the heart of the dock’s deep back alley’s where leprous beggars live. I have never seen such indigence. How can a city can call itself ‘of splendors’ when individuals live like this? This is reprehensible. I have never considered my fortune grand, nor my finances extensive, but this abject poverty is beyond my comprehension. Each day the city bustles anew with its doings, each day the dance of life echoes on gleefully but for these residents the music has stopped or the tune suffocates. Their steps cease. They do not spring. They are shackled by their destitution. I do not mean to be harsh, but elves would never allow such a thing among our people. It would disgrace us. I will not allow it here. I must find a way to right this wrong. This is how a city can quell the soul.

In the end the beggars turned out to be cons. Is my outrage misplaced? I think not. Their misfortune governs their derelicition. They claimed to know of Hadar but their tip led us to the sewers, and into a trap. The dank, cramped, filthy sewers swarmed with vicious rats and at a dead end passage, the mother of all rats, a giant diseased carcass of a beast and her vile brood, attacked us. We defeated her, barely. I tried a new spell upon the beast, one I recently mastered. The “arrows” are not like the shafts I fire from my faithful bow, they are of acid, but they possess different virtue. Their sting endures longer. I am pleased with this acquisition. I also have a chance to launch rays that scorch the beast. In fact, for this battle, my greatest assault derives from such an attack, and my strike sears the creature, but alone it is not enough. We each took turns getting mauled by the creature till finally we brought it down.

Pity spare those liars, it seems our flapping tongued friends upstairs maintain a crafty operation here. They lure unsuspecting explorers to their deaths at the rat queen's clutches, then they loot the corpses. Lo, that men were not driven to madness by such rueful circumstance.

Our exploration of the sewers turns up numerous dead ends and narrow corridors but thankfully no more accursed rodents. Finally, we land in what had to be the Kraken lair.

Selune help us. We are in the scorpions den.

We come upon two guards garbed in the same black leather that mountain attackers donned under their winter gear. It is surely Kraken then. We try attacking stealthily knowing there are likely more, but guards escape upstairs.

Once again my longbow hums. I am accurate and make numerous deft strikes. Again the party prevails over the guards. We find another ledger, like the miller’s, that documents the bankruptcy of the glass shop that this hideout belies. We also find a Kraken “sewer pass”. Perhaps this will enable us unfettered access. Hah! I laugh inside. If only it were that easy. I worry for Rellik. We are dealing with evil men. I can only pray he is still alive. If he is not, I will have justice. Mark my words. I will have justice.