With his new found party of alignment-conflicting miscreants, Tim the apprentice started searching the streets for clues. Annabelle the rogue was sizing up the small group of people that were recently ejected from The Underdark Tavern. You see, she had just been paid 5 gold for work, but she felt dirty not stealing it on her own. One way or another she was going to make it right in her world.
In the alley around the corner from the bar the apprentice spied his master’s signature boots on the ground, half filled with blood. Peldu the tiefling barbarian suggested tasting the boot blood to figure out its origin. The cleric of Umberlee contested; that was NOT how things were done! He used his portable DNA test kit to figure out that it was in fact dwarven blood, not human. There was talk to see if anyone was in need of half-filled-with-blood boots, but after much thought, there wasn’t. The apprentice presented the party with the note, and after much examination, it was determined that the unreadable language was in fact that of the dwarves.
Waterdeep is a multicultural city, and like most multicultural cities they are segregated. It was all agreed upon to set off to the dwarf district (Even though dwarves were quite common and might have been found in any of the local establishments nearby, or even finding a non-dwarf who spoke dwarven was also another alternative). It seemed the party rather wanted a real authentic dwarf from the dwarven sector. On the way, Urth the cleric of Umberlee sliced open his hand and dropped both his blood and 2 gold pieces in the local water way to pay homage to his god. (Side note: several months later a young boy found the gold pieces and went on a shopping spree, and was subsequently found in the same waterway with his throat slit. Umberlee always gets paid one way or another.)
It was now dinner time, and the streets were bare. The adventurer party approached the first dwarf they found. He seemed homeless and explained that most of the religious folk would be in the local church during this time. They make a point to worship their gods during dinner hour, to put belief over hunger. Instead of waiting an hour, the party asked the mostly illiterate bum to read the dwarven note. The dwarf bum was trying to mask his inability to read his own language quite well, which caused the party to feel as thought he were hiding something. Urth the cleric of Umberlee kicked it up a notch and threatened to kill the dwarf if he didn’t start cooperating, like now! The stinky, homeless, illiterate, harmless dwarf started screaming and fled for his life!
Before the party could start a pursuit they noticed some peering eyes from each of the surrounding exits. Six pairs of eyes to be exact, each one attached to a face of a dwarf. Holding bricks, sticks, broken ores and anything else they could find, they advanced. The band of dwarves didn’t appreciate strangers causing trouble in their district. These were not seasoned fighters, just locals that observed the ruckus and tend to stick up for their own. Peldu the barbarian tried to reason with the band by explaining how he was a solider of the Red Sashes and he has personally aided dwarves in and off the battlefield. They were not impressed and were bent on running these strangers out of town. Tim the bard then played a boring song on his flute. This caused two of the dwarves to instantly fall asleep from its melodic tones. The cleric of Umberlee ran right up to one of the sleeping dwarves and with one clean swing burst its head wide open like a watermelon! The remaining 4 dwarves all descended upon the cleric in a fit of rage each hitting him with their hodgepodge of weaponry. With the last swing from the last dwarf the cleric fell to the ground unconscious. They now looked upon the rest of the party (they were far more merciful than the cleric).
The apprentice remembered his master teaching him a spell but warned against ever using it, as it has great power. But his master wasn’t here was he? And out of his fingertips flew 3 magic missiles zapping the life out of one of the dwarves. The Rogue sprang into action with multiple stabs to a dwarf causing him to call out in pain. It was not looking good for the goodly dwarves. A couple swings and magical missiles later another dwarf fell to the ground dead. The last standing dwarf remembered he left the oven on at his house and realized that he should go check it out right away, as he fled. But the barbarian, soldier/protector of dwarves thew a javelin and hit the dwarf right in the back and that is where he took his last breath. The barbarian uttered a racist remark about dwarves and went to retrieve his weapon. (Side note: the next day the dwarf’s whole family burned alive due to the oven catching fire.)
The second dwarf that fell asleep was now the last remaining adversary. He missed almost the entire fight and most likely wouldn’t be able to identify anyone due to the far distance and dim light. The apprentice woke up the sleeping dwarf because they still needed someone to read their note! The scared dwarf soiled himself at the sight of his comrades bodies scattered around him. The party tried to explain that they were not going to hurt him but that they were going to pay him 1 gold piece for his services in reading the note. He did not believe them one bit and refused. The apprentice put 1 gold piece in his pouch to show good faith. After promising to let the dwarf go if he just did this simple task, the dwarf agreed to their terms. He read the note, which explained that Mr. Waldorf owed a debt of 100 gold that had to be paid over at the Laughing Castle. Seeing as they already spent 22 of the 100 gold they figured the apprentice’s master may be in a smidge of trouble.
Keeping to their word, the party knocked the dwarf out, tied him up and left him for dead.
The only attempt to hide the dwarven massacre (that is what the officials are calling it) was by the barbarian who shoved one dwarf under a cart (his leg was still sticking out).
The party set off and found a local inn called The Pilgrim’s Rest. Inside they asked the inn keeper if they could rent a room by the hour. The inn keeper agreed, as they get that type of business all the time. The party asked the inn keeper about the Laughing Castle and he returned with a bunch of fliers, pamphlets and maps with much of Waterdeep’s attractions. Among them, is an old flier about the fantastical illusionist of the touring group “The Laughing Castle”. Apparently they play Waterdeep each year at the Smiling Siren playhouse.
Afterward, the group rests for an hour instead of trying to catch the show on time. I get an adjoining room, so I can listen in on their plans.