Session 12: Subterranean Revelations

Characters involved:

• Pisqual “Piper” Dunraven, human rogue and ambitious thief.
• Primeiro d’Pirazzi, human mage extraordinaire.
• Shrain, dwarf cleric of Moradin.
• Vaicht, elf monk of Kelemvor.
• Zelder, halfling rogue and pastry aficionado.

The PCs assisted Brother Hodges with the trampled and injured as the daylight waned. Ravengard eventually came over to them and “thanked” them in his own bullish way for their part in staving off what could have been a massacre. He gave them a sum of platinum pieces, saying, “I will not be indebted to anyone,” then ranted briefly that the Guild clearly wanted a bloodbath and that the patriars would happily comply—and that of course if that had happened it would have all been blamed on the Flaming Fist.

The PCs told him about the Flaming Fist corporal who had been involved in the kidnapping of Omdarsh. Incensed by this news—Ravengard knew there was corruption in his ranks but seldom had evidence—he stormed off to the Seatower to see the body of the dead traitor himself.

A short while later, a small procession of wagons approached the gate to the Upper City. It was three coffins being transported by the Candulhallows—a patriar family of morticians who’ve handled funerals, burials, and transport of Baldur’s Gate’s dead for centuries. The guards at the gate immediately parted for them. Shrain, wondering at this, quickly cast a detect good and evil spell and found a flicker of fiendish energy among the patriars’ guards who escorted the small caravan. Meanwhile, Primeiro used detect magic and saw the mild, if steady aura of alchemy radiating from one of the coffins. In order to get a better look, Vaicht feigned grief and mourning and threw himself upon the wagon in the lead. The guards started and turned their attention on him, drawing suspicious looks. But the elf monk was convincing with his false tears and was able to get a look at the guards. One of them seemed less surprised than the others and far more serious, and makeup had been used to conceal heavy facial scars. Suspicious.

Nevertheless, the guards forced them back and the procession rolled on and through the gate to the upper city. Meanwhile, Zelder spotted a figure waving to him surreptitiously from a nearby alley. He went over to discover that it was Thurgo Songbuckle, the halfling they’d met at the Guild’s gathering several nights before. Thurgo told Zelder that Rilsa Rael wished to meet with the party, and that he could lead them to a safe and discrete place in the Undercellars. There would be no need to head into the Outer City.

The PCs agreed—for Zelder, on the promise of brownies—and followed the Guild-hired halfling into an alley, through a hidden door, down into the sewers, and through a maze of passages both moist and dry. When they approached a wide junction in the stench-filled sewers, they spotted a pair of ghouls sloshing through the refuse water towards them.

As they moved forward and began to destroy the undead—somewhat easily, from a distance—Thurgo said, “I must apologize, but it’s not personal.” With that, his body contorted, sprouted bristle fur, and suddenly no longer resembled a mere halfling. He was a wererat in hybrid form, still small of stature, but much too large to be a normal rat!

He sprang up and attacked Vaicht, for the elf was the closest PC to him with his back turned.

A battle ensued, in which several small swarms of rats and a handful of dire rats also ran screeching into the fray. (It seemed the PCs had learned what might have been behind the rats plague the streets at night.) Even a second wererat appeared, swinging down upon them from above, pulling a chain, and loosing a stone-colored blob onto the scene: a gray ooze!

With arrows, bolts, blades, rays of frost, and the unarmed strikes of an elven monk, the PCs wonof The PCs won the day, but some were severely injured in the battle. The gray ooze landed a nasty blow on Zelder, burning away much of his cloak and armor and searing his back with its acidic mass. Whipped into a frenzy by their wererat master, a swarm of rats surged up onto Piper. Several clung directly to the human's face and bit into his mouth, nearly cutting his tongue in half. Blood sprayed and dripped as the rogue screamed and clutched as his mouth.

By far the most dramatic injury was dealt by Vaicht, however. The PCs had difficulty effectively harming the wererat, whose lycanthropic flesh could only be easily injured by magic weapons or silver, but the monk seized Thurgo Songbuckle in a grapple and attempted to maneuver him into the hungry ooze. After struggling in vain for several moments, Vaicht finally lifted the wererat's body around and found an opportunity to use the creature's own natural weaponry against him. Grasping Thurgo's own clawed hand, he drew it across his the wererat's own belly and eviscerated him in the process. Organs and gore showered out as Thurgo stared wide with disebelief before Vaicht dropped him to the ground—where the mindless ooze engulfed him and made a meal of his dying form.

More rats, and the still-unharmed ooze made it seem that the PCs would have to make a run for it. But a sudden search of wand-flung spells suggested help was at hand. A glance down the passage from which they'd come revealed the presence of a group of woman—warriors and mages among them. It was the Lady's Court, the bodyguards of Nine-Fingers, mistress of the Guild. And Nine-Fingers herself had come as well. She bade the PCs follow, confirming that she didn't want them dead, but perhaps Rilsa Rael had ordered their death.

"I never liked that halfling," she remarked of the now-dead Thurgo Songbuckle.

Nine-Fingers led them deeper into the sewers and finally into a chamber within the Undercellar beneath the Upper City. There, they took some rest, and she wanted urgently to speak with them about

When she’d met the PCs several days before at the Guild meeting they’d crashed, she had said she was concerned for the city, for the identity of Abdel’s assassin, and the purpose of his death. They told her about the cultists they’d seen. Now things had worsened. Nine-Fingers was worried about Rilsa Rael—her favored protégé—for the Little Calimshan kingpin had become more erratic lately, and more violent. The Guildmistress admitted that many of the acts committed or instigated by the Guild had been sanctioned by her—with the sole purpose of crippling the patriars' commerce and the institutions that hurt the lower class—but that Rael had taken these acts too far. The sewage jams, the vandalism, the arson. The kidnappings especially concerned her, for most of the wives and children who’d been taken had ended up dead with no hope for rescue. Nine-Fingers believed that something was driving Rael to greater acts of violence. To deep and uncharacteristic levels of sadism.

And on that point, Nine-Fingers had something to share with the PCs, for she believed they had the city's interest at heart and could trust precious few others. She said her agents had found the flat where Abdel’s assassin had stayed before the festival of Returning Day, and they had uncovered a very revealing letter that had been folded up and hidden by him. It was a letter written by a Bhaal cultist, perhaps even the cult’s leader. The letter's recipient was addressed to Viekang—a name the PCs had heard recently spoken by Abdel himself through the stored magic of a whispering candle.

Viekang, according to Abdel, might have been the very last Bhaalspawn beside himself, one of the mortal progeny of Bhaal from the old days many years ago. Abdel had evidently him him before

Nine-Fingers read them the cultist's letter:

Master Viekang,

Nine-Fingers

It is with considerable humility that I entreat you one last time. Your window of opportunity will soon pass.

On the Day of Returning, Abdel Adrian will appear publicly in the Wide for ceremonial and political purposes. Understand this: He will never be more vulnerable than on that day, in that moment. I have summoned my disciples to the city already and we will ensure that neither the Watch nor the Flaming Fist interferes with your destiny. I will take further steps to hire local muscle to keep anyone from among the peasantry from interfering. It matters not what weapon you wield against Abdel, so long as you can deliver a mortal wound. You possess our Lord’s power at your fingertips, as you always have. Murder is in your blood.

Viekang, listen to me now. You have lived in fear of Abdel and the others—in fear of yourself and what you are—for far too long. I offer you this final chance at absolution and ascendance. The days of the Bhaalspawn are long past. The time for Bhaal’s rebirth is at hand, for change is coming to the face of Toril and the Lord of Murder will be among the first to claim his due. With Abdel’s death, enacted by your hallowed hands, Bhaal’s divinity will coalesce within you. You will do what Sarevok failed to. You will become inviolable, indestructible, an exarch of our Lord’s will. Baldur’s Gate will be yours to claim—the first of many governments to bow before you. I will be in attendance, and I will be the first to herald your rise.

I trust you need no further convincing. It is time to stop running, to stop hiding. You and Abdel are the last of your kind, and have survived for a reason. You already wield immortal strength. But which of you is the stronger? Abdel lacks the courage and conviction to wield the power given him by the Lord of Murder. Abdel has grown old and complacent, content to rule a single city of sailors, merchants, and thieves. You were meant to rule so much more. You must now become Bhaal’s champion, the last of his children, favored above all. Do not refuse this mantle.

We will speak again when you have triumphed. Then I will call you my liege.

Azevell, First Blade of Bhaal

The PCs agreed that Viekang, Abdel's killer, must have been manipulated. The letter's composer, Azevell, had coerced him into a suicidal assassination. He'd wanted Viekang and Abdel to die. When Viekang had killed Abdel, Bhaal's essence had surged into him but it hadn't saved him or made him into a god at all. With the last of the Bhaalspawn dead, what then became of Bhaal?

Where did the energy, the divinity, go? Nine-Fingers wondered. Clearly this is what Azevell had wanted: the Lord of Murder's energy released somehow. The Guildmistress felt this was part of Rilsa Rael's bloodlust. And who else might be affected? So Nine-Fingers asked the PCs to find a way to counter this violence. Abdel's death was a blow to the city, for he'd help keep all factions from turning against one another, but clearly civil unrest wasn't the real problem now. To deal with the latest threats of violence, such as the march that had almost become a riot, the Council had scheduled an emergency session of the Parliament of Peers for the morning.

There were a few leads to possibly follow, and the PCs had some ideas. Nine-Fingers cautioned them against trusting too many people at this time. She didn't trust Ravengard—and the PCs readily agreed that while he meant well, the Flaming Fist marshal wasn't doing much good for the city—and she certainly didn't trust the three remaining dukes. She did intimate that many of the Peers of the Parliament were on the Guild's payroll, but not enough to enact the great changes the city needed.

The PCs slept the night in a comfortable chamber in the Undercellar. The next morning they set out to continue their investigations. But what came next was alarming. As they ascended the stairs up into the Wide, above, they felt the ground tremor. A rumble and a great explosion rocked the Upper City.

When they reached the surface, they looked over and saw a plume of black smoke rising in the air right above High Hall.

Where the Parliament of Peers was supposed to be in session.

Session 11: Threatening Violence

Characters involved:

• Amaril, elf cleric of Helm.
• Pisqual “Piper” Dunraven, human rogue and ambitious thief.
• Primeiro d’Pirazzi, human mage extraordinaire.
• Shrain, dwarf cleric of Moradin.
• Zelder, halfling rogue and pastry aficionado.

Though the pigeon eventually disappeared from sight, PCs did find its "roost." It was a building several streets up from the waterfront. Vaicht found it first, and Primeiro, Amaril, and Piper soon followed him to their destination. Conjuring a minor illusion of Helm's pointing fist floating above the destination, Amaril was able to direct the others: Shrain hustling through the streets hefting the ransom money in the form of a small chest filled with 800 gold pieces in. Zelder had spotted and kept pace with the dwarf as they ran.

Everybody loves stirges!

Meanwhile, Primeiro eavesdropped at the basement flat beneath a hatter's shop in the building where the pigeon disappeared. He heard raised voices, an argument, and quickly deduced these were the kidnappers of the boy in question, Omdarsh, the son of the merchant Darsh Nyach, one of the Peers of the Parliament.

As a group, PCs initially went in peacefully an attempted to offer the ransom money in exchange for the boy, who was bound inside a thick wooden cage alongside a cage of stirges (multi-winged insectoid, blood-draining beasties). The kidnappers numbered three rogueish-looking humans, a pair of halflings, and a plate mail-armored warrior. It seemed clear that the kidnappers wanted the gold, and demanded it be given over. In the last moment, however, Shrain turned and swing his axe—and a bloody fight ensued.

Though the kidnappers were defeated and the boy saved, the PCs were badly wounded, and more than a few victim to a small swarm of the stirges, which had been loosed by one of the halfling kidnappers. Both Amaril and Shrain (the party's clerics, the only ones capable of using healing magic!) were sent crashing, bleeding, to the floor by the might of the plate-armored, greatsword-wielding warrior. But Zelder reacted quickly with his healer's kit and bound both their wounds, sparing them from bleeding out.

One of the kidnappers got away, escaping into a tunnel down into the sewers. The PCs searched the hideout and found that the plate-armored man had tucked away a Flaming Fist uniform and a ring marking him as a flame (lieutenant)! This was news indeed, hard evidence that the mercenary organization had corruption in its ranks. After waiting a couple of hours for Shrain and Amaril and stir into agonizing consciousness, they made their way back to the Seatower of Balduran to return the boy and report what had happened.

Marshal Ravengard wasn't around, but the soldiers took them in and Darsh Nyach, the boy's father, was overjoyed at having his son back. The PCs took some rest, secured the traitor Flaming Fist lieutenant's body (they wished to speak with Ravengard about him later).

The next morning the PCs set out again, hoping to investigate a few more things. For one, Primeiro wished to visit Felogyr's Fireworks, for he wanted to find out more about the ceramic bowl bearing Felogyr's name, the one that smelled of smokepowder. Smokepowder was all but illegal, a product of the church of Gond. Very few places were licensed to produce or sell smokepowder items—a potent, explosive alchemical substance indeed—though Felogyr's was at least one such establishment.

Gond, the Wonderbringer, was the one
to introduce smokepowder to the Forgotten
Realms. He first gifted the secret of its
creation to the island-nation of Lantan for
sheltering him during the Time of
Troubles. The church of Gond is one
of the few manufacturers of
smokepowder. It was banned in
many cities for its dangerous potency.

On the way out of the Seatower, however, Hansen, the son of Brother Hodges, came running towards the PCs. A moment later, they heard the distant blaring of clarions. Shrain knew instantly it was a warning, a distress call, or some other means of the military to raise an alarm. The Flaming Fist was quickly responding to something.

Hansen told the PCs that his father had sent him to find them. A large number of Outer City residents had gathered in the district of Norchapel and were on a peaceful march towards High Hall in an attempt to have their voices heard. Hodges was worried that such a march would not remain peaceful, not with things to turbulent in the city. The PCs followed Hansen as he led them up through the streets to find the marchers.

They encountered them already inside the Lower City, halfway to Baldur's Gate itself, the gate that led from Lower to Upper. The PCs, especially Primeiro, attempted to reason with the crowd. They used illusions both arcane and divine to make their presence known, to attempt to stop or slow the gathering people—which had swelled from dozens to many hundreds. They were effective in culling some of the crowd's numbers, but the people were leaderless and widespread, marching through multiple streets.

At Baldur's Gate, a few hundred Flaming Fist soldiers had gathered and had formed a wall to prevent the crowd's entry. The Watch was conspicuously absent—normally they guarded this gate. Now now at least two thousand men and women had come forward. They were largely unarmed.

Though leaderless, one man did scramble up onto a low building. He called out: "We will speak with the Council of Four! We demand recognition for Baldur's forgotten, the Outer City's hardworking people!"

Up on the wall above the gate, others had gathered to look down upon the masses. They appeared to be soldiers, but not Watch members nor the Flaming Fist. They were the retainers of Upper City patriars, house soldiers and bodyguards. There were also robed Gondsman among them, and many held crossbows ready.

Marshal Ravengard soon appeared and climbed atop some neatly stacked barrels the Flaming Fist had assembled. In his booming voice, he shouted for the crowd to disperse, declaring that no one would not negotiate with a mob. They must return home or the Flaming Fist would drive them all back by force! Again they shouted that they intended to be heard before the Parliament or the Council. Ravengard shouted back angrily, renewing his stance and demanding they go home immediately.

Ulder Ravengard, Marshal of the Flaming Fist,
not a soft-spoken or nuanced man.

Meanwhile, the PCs tried to work their way toward the front of the crowd to the line of soldiers, hoping to stave off any violence. They used magic and loud voices again, even invoked Duke Abdel in attempt to appeal to the city's now-dead hero. It worked, if slowly. The PCs noticed that there were some men and women in the crowds that did carry clubs. They looked like the toughs they'd seen at the Guild meeting several days before. But by far, most of the people were unarmed.

Despite the opportunity to throw his weight around and be forceful, it still seemed like Ravengard was not pleased with the situation. With the Watch strangely absent, the Fist was the only authority represented here. Yet it was then that some of the PCs noticed Imbralyn Skoond, Silvershield's right-hand man, working his way along the line of patriar retainers up on the wall. He was speaking angrily to them—though he was too far away to hear, especially among the shouting crowds.

Imbralym Skoond

Once the PCs reached the front, Primeiro turned around and tried to address the crowd. Those nearest to him listened, for he said he would be the voice of the people, that he—as a Hero of the Wide—would try to speak to the Council on their behalf. But the thousands of people drown him out in their chants, in their demands.

One or two of the PCs even noticed another figure watching from high above, but further to the west, watching distantly: Duke Silvershield. He was too far away to assess. Was Silvershield glad of this unrest, or was he as discouraged as Ravengard by the developments? The Upper, Lower, and Outer City residents seemed ready to clash in dangerous ways. The line of retainers up on the wall seemed to swell with tensions. They began to aim their crossbows right down on the crowd!

Duke Torlin Silvershield

Using the Flaming Fist uniforms that some of them had—particularly Shrain—and the silver brooches that had been given to them early on, the PCs managed to move through the line of soldiers and speak directly to Ravengard. They managed to convince him that the greatest threat of violence right now was the crossbow-wielding guards atop the wall—not the Fist, not the crowd itself. The people seemed fearless, unafraid of the Fist, emboldened by their numbers, and Ravengard himself wasn't going to back down. He hadn't come for a fight, but neither would he cower before a mob.

Still furious—at everyone, it seemed—Ravengard began to bark orders at his men. A full third of the Flaming Fist force marched up to the battlements above to screen off the patriars' retinue of warriors and the acolytes of Gond. The remaining Fist soldiers pressed into the crowd with shields, advancing in lockstep and driving them physically back often at sword point. The people protested, but none fought. Some were trampled and injured, but in the process none were killed!

Violence had been staved off.

The PCs eventually also noticed a third figure watching it all unfold from a rooftop nearby: Rilsa Rael, the Guild's kingpin of Little Calimshan. Just surveying the crowds, the Flaming Fist, the press of soldiers, the patriar forces above.

Rilsa Rael

In the aftermath, Brother Hodges appeared and the PCs left off talking to him. He thanked them for their work on behalf of the people of the city and spoke of his concerns that violence had only been stalled, not abated. Brother Hodges said he believed there was a spiritual sickness in Baldur's Gate, a problem deeper and more worrying than mere class division. Amaril took this moment to speak up as well, telling his companions about another vision he had received the night before during his evening trance—a vision which he believed came from Helm:

In it, Duke Abdel lay dying, mortally wounded, and three menacing shadow figures drew up above him. As they drew up closer, one surged forward and pushed the others away.

Session 10: Volunteer Pigeons

The PCs awoke in a dungeon, in a spacious but very dark cell. Vaicht and Amaril, the elves among the party, recalled the presence of a woman in their fleeting moments of consciousness. She was pressed over them, whispering, a blade to their throats, seeming eager to cut. But the memory was blurry now, and they lapses back into unconsciousness for an indeterminable amount of time.

In their cell was another elf...a mage with a foggy memory of his own calling himself Arylon. Hours stretched into days, and through the bars of a raised portal, a kobold appeared each day to bring them bread and water. The captors didn't appear, but it seemed clear enough that this incarceration was the Guild's doing. It didn't feel like the dungeons of the Seatower of Balduran's probably would. At one point, a charm person spell was uson the kobold. He coudn't be coerced into letting them free, but he did go to fetch more food....and then returned later with a second kobold. Amaril immediately used and inflict wounds spell to kill the second kobold, but it didn't effect an escape, and the first kobold fled.

Sometime later, the door opened and a human hand tossed down a flint & steel...and a single black candle. And no explanation.

With nothing else to try, Shrain lit the candle. Seconds later, they heard a voice issuing from the candle itself. Some sort of enchanted candle, and it seemed to contain a disembodied voice. Shrain recognized it as the voice of Duke Abdel himself! Who he'd only heard speak once before, in the Wide on the day of his assassination. Abdel's voice said:

“How does this thing work? Magic? Whatever, of course. So what do you want me to do? Talk about...oh, godsdamn it, not him again. Not again. Sarevok? Look, I killed him. He wasn’t the last one, no...but I killed the last one. Damn it, Coran, I’m done with this. No, I’m not doing this….”

The voice drifted away. Abdel had sound frustrated. But after ten minutes of utter silence, his voice returned, issuing from the candle in almost a whisper.

“....Viekang. His name was Viekang. I don’t think he was a Bhaalspawn. He kept turning up, but…he kept vanishing. Literally vanishing: teleporting away whenever fear overcame him. That man was so full of fear. It ruled him. He was afraid of dying, and the other spawn kept going after him… That was eighty years ago, at least. Maybe more...”

And that was all. The PCs weren't sure who had this candle delivered to them. But the suggestion was, Abdel had admitted that another Bhaalspawn—another, like him, invested with the vestigial energies of the slain Lord of Murder—may have survived all these years. If so, was he connected to the Bhaal cultists who'd been showing up in the city? What of the general unrest in the city? Related?

The PCs let the mystic candle burn out, then Shrain, the only one with darkvision, set to work on the stone beneath the bars with the piece of steel. In vain, of course, but he was a dwarf and dwarves do not sit idle.

Hours passed again....

Until finally, on what might have been the third or fourth day, the door opened and a man stood there, telling them to follow. He tossed a rope down for them to climb up to the door with. Through a warren of tunnels they followed the jailor and eventually they found themselves entering the central chamber of the Undercellar, a subterranean festhall beneath the Wide. A known tavern not policed by the Watch but clearly frequented by both patriars and wealthier Lower City business persons. Primeiro was there, and had just that morning met with an agent of the Guild to secure their release.

From him, they learned of what had transpired in the city during their time in the cell: the Upper City's lockout, the fires, the continued trash pile-up and sewage problem. And in one particularly tense scene, they quickly and awkwardly learned that in their absence, old dueling laws from Baldur's Gate's early days had been reinstated. Evidently, any citizen can demand redress for a perceived wrong in a civilized "duel": at first blood, the wounded can submit to defeat. However, the first blooded can choose not to yield, in which case the fight can legally be allowed to be fought to the death. The PCs came upon a patriar adolescent dueling a lamp lad with a dagger, ostensibly defending his sister's honor, for the lamp lad had led the girl to a gambling den (i.e. had done what she had paid him to do). The PCs interrupted this incident, but in the process had rendered unconscious a pair of Watch from the Upper City. There could be repercussions from that, but they had clearly saved the lamp lad's life.


Soon after they met with Ravengard, who asked about their several-day absence and was not pleased with their obvious skirting of the truth. He gave them some recompense for their work so far, though the incident with the crypts had not gone perfectly according to plan. Yet Ravengard was willing to wave it away and let the the PCs prove themselves again, if they helped save another life: the life of a boy who'd been kidnapped.

The kidnapped was Omdarsh, son of Darsh Nyach, a prominent member of sailcloth; Nyach wasn't only a wealthy merchant, he was both a member of the Lower City and a member of the Parliament of Peers (one of the few non-patriars). During a session of the Parliament early in the day, he had received a ransom note from the unknown kidnappers. The message read:  If you want your son back, and alive, bring 800 gold pieces to Blind Darcaryn’s corner. Drop 2 platinum pieces into the beggar’s coin cup.

After the recent rash of fatal kidnappings, the prospect of actually delivering the demanded ransom and saving the boy seemed grim. Yet the Ravengard was asking them to try, to take the ransom money (a small chest of coins) to Blind Darcaryn's corner, which was a known locale in the Lower City just outside the gate to the Upper City: Baldur's Gate, the gate the city is named after. While Ravengard's instincts are to storm the ransom delivery sight, he knew that this wouldn't likely save the boy. The Guild, who he was certain was beyond all the recent kidnappings, would be ready for that. If the PCs went, perhaps they could find Omdarsh.

So they did. With disguises and strategically staggered groups, they took the chest of gold and two platinum pieces and went to where Blind Darcaryn begged for money. He sat there, with a basket beside him and a cup in front of him. When they placed the two platinum pieces in the old man's cup, he handed them a scrap of paper from his pocket. It read: You’re the pigeon now. Let’s see who’s faster, the real pigeon or the volunteer pigeons. Bring the ransom to the roost. Don’t be late.

While the message was being read, Darcaryn opened the basket beside him and a pigeon flew frantically out. A homing pigeon, trained to fly to specific destinations! Suddenly it became apparent that where the pigeon flew, the PCs would need to follow, and quick! It took the pigeon several long moments flapping through the air to get its bearings, then it started off vaguely southward. Vaicht, a monk and street-savvy elf, immediately scaled the nearest building in order to watch where the pigeon flew.

With his keen elf eyes, Vaicht spied the pigeon sail down to a building near the docks...four districts away. All the PCs gave chase, pushing or weaving their way through the crowds....

Don't be late...

Click to enlarge.

Interlude: Scandal and Fire

Later that same night, Primeiro became concerned. His companions did not return from their midnight investigations. Nor did they show up by the morning. He checked at the Seatower of Balduran, and even made his way over to Wyrm’s Rock and back again. Nothing. Nor were any of them at their other haunts, like the boarding house near the docks where Zelder and Vaicht had stayed. Of course, the Helm and Cloak in the Upper City still no vacancy, so they weren’t there, either. And where had Tredek gone? He hadn’t gone to the secret meeting.

By noon the next day, though, a new issue of Baldur’s Mouth went out, and citizens of all classes were talking about the latest event: Lord Ariax Rillyn, a respectable patriar and judge, had been arrested! He was accused of ritual, cult murder in Tumbledown, and of consorting with the undead. Rillyn, in turn, implicated an accomplice in the murders: someone named Lady Astele Keene, a patriar noblewoman who lived alone with only a few servants on the east side of the Upper City. The article was vague and made very few speculations—perhaps owing to Primeiro’s intervention—but the rumor mills were happy to fill in the gaps with every imaginable scenario. The murders seemed to surprise no one, in light of Lord Rillyn’s sable moonflower addiction, which was discovered at the same time.

Primeiro returned to the offices of Baldur's Mouth, and attempted to set the record straight with its owner, Eldren Needle. The woman in Tumbledown hadn't been murdered, he insisted; she'd died of illness and evidence had been planted there. A thorough examination by a healer or cleric could reveal this. Eldren appreciated the information, especially when Primeiro revealed his real identity—but he wasn't comfortable revealing the inside story the mage was suggesting. Now wasn't the time to be too bold. The atmosphere in Baldur's Gate was getting...volatile, to say the least. One must be careful. Since Duke Abdel's death, anything seemed possible.

Eldren leveled with Primeiro and told him more about himself and the Mouth. Eldren had been the son of a wealthy Lower City tailor. After growing up watching Upper City citizens compel his father to bend and grovel, Eldren decided to give power to the common people in the form of information. So he began paying lamp lads and lasses to shout his stories of injustices during the day. Since many of his employees were illiterate and had to memorize his news articles, Eldren decided to teach them to read so he could give them written copies. Thus far, the popularity of Baldur's Mouth has kept it safe. As his expenses mounted, Eldren sought out sponsors, which led to his attracting advertising and diversifying his criers' stories. Eventually had had the money to procure several "mechanical scribes," wondrous machines built by Gondsman, which allows him to rapidly produce broadsheets.

But—and this is where Primeiro's forthcoming actions helped—Eldren admitted there's been a darker side to his business. While he disliked the Guild almost as much as he loathed the patriars, Eldren considered himself a good friend and admirer of Rilsa Rael. Her commitment to the Outer City's residents impressed him, and Eldren had hoped to persuade her to transform the Guild from the predatory criminal organization that many say it is to a sort of mercenary citizens' watch not unlike the Flaming Fist. He'd supported Rael through Baldur's Mouth and allowed her to send messages through its pages to Guild operatives, but now he's become worried. Worried that the Guild is as responsible for the city's instability as the overzealous Flaming Fist or the increasing paranoia of the patriars. And worried about Rilsa Rael herself. He knows she has the people's interest in mind, but in the last few days, she's become....angrier.

"It's got to be Abedel's death," Eldren insisted. "Everyone loved the man. He used to carouse with anyone and everyone. The Council, the Peers, and of course Ulder Ravengard was an old friend. And everyone knew—or at least suspected—that he had some Guild friends, too. Like me, I think he wanted to use the Guild for less illegal purposes, to put their talents to work publicly, openly. He probably knew Rilsa personally."

But once Eldren began to talk about Rilsa Rael, he opened even more, almost seeming desperate to unburden himself. He told Primeiro what he knew of Rael herself. She was not the Guild's leader—that title went to a person named Nine-Fingers. "I don't think even Abdel knew much about Nine-Finger." But Rilsa was the kingpin of Little Calimshan, having climbed rapidly through the ranks since she joined up at a young age. As a child, Rilsa's Calishite father had been hanged by the Flaming Fist for harboring her uncle when the Fist was after him for some crime. Her mother, a beautiful Tethyrian woman, then became a patriar's courtesan in order to support Rilsa. But when the man's wife discovered the trysts, she demanded that Rilsa's mother be imprisoned in the Seatower of Balduran—and so she was, and remained for years, wasting away and eventually dying in the dungeons while her patriar lover went unpunished. That was young Rilsa's turning point. She joined a gang in the Outer City district of Norchapel, and her mixed heritage and language skills gave her a natural advantage in bringing Little Calimshan fully under the Guild's influence. In time, Rael's talent at going unnoticed and her skill with a knife earned her a position on the "Lady's Court"—Nine-Finger's bodygards. But seeing Rael's potential, Nine-Fingers eventually installed her as Little Calimshan's kingpin. The Guild has one for each district.

And that it when Eldren Needle stopped talking. Realizing he'd maybe said too much, not wanting to betray Rilsa, he finally clammed up. Clearly, he wanted someone to help and Primeiro, as a foreigner and local hero, had been that someone for now. But Eldren asked him to leave...he had to think.

Even as trash and sewage issues continued to mount, later that same day, a new decree issued from the Council of Dukes: The Upper City's gates would be be barred at 3 bells (mid-afternoon) each day instead of at dusk, allowing none to enter beyond that time. So, a very early curfew. Not a violent turn, but it was clear that the people who conducted business in the Upper City but didn't live there would be impacted.

Primeiro sought a meeting with Rilsa and it was clear that Eldren Needle wouldn't be arranging it. So on the second day of his friends' absence, he went to the Outer City and visited her pawn shop, the Calim Jewel Emporium. He found her there at the store front, conducting business with several customers—poor-looking Outer City residents clearly not from Little Calimshan. Rael looked tired. Primeiro watched unobtrusively as the Guild kingpin paid a young mother Rael's own age, who was holding a much-too-quiet infant in her arms, eight pieces of silver for a ratty-looking belt pouch and a bent spoon. Essentially, silver for trash. Silver probably acquired through the Guild's coffers. Looking grateful, the young mother hurried out of the shop with more energy than she'd entered it with.

Rael looked at Primeiro when they were alone. "I'm rather busy today, Master d'Pirazzi. I strongly suggest you come back tomorrow...maybe at this same time of day." Lowering her voice, she added, "In the meantime, I strongly suggest that you ask yourself what the Council is up to. What new surprises for us all? It certainly keeps me up at night. And just so you know: Your friends are alive...on her mercy." Then she disappeared into a back room, leaving the wizened-looking Musayed—a turbaned Calishite who didn't speak Common—to man the store front.

So Primeiro was left to wander again. Alone.

After only a single say, the Upper City lockout at 3 bells was beginning to reveal its economic impact: Lower and Outer city merchants would have to close their stalls in the Wide hours earlier than Upper City stalls. The residents of the Blackgate district who worked unloading the ships in the harbor or in the many Lower City shops would have to leave their jobs hours earlier in order to reach the Black Dragon Gate before it was sealed.


Meanwhile, new got out that patriar Wyllyck Caldwell, for reasons unknown, had turned down the nomination for duke. This was the man Ravengard said he did like but was afraid that as duke he'd just become a puppet of the Peers. With only Ravengard remaining as a candidate for duke and the uncertainty of the events surrounding Ariax Rillyn's arrest, Grand Duke Portyr persuaded the Parliament of Peers to defer any decisions at this time. So for now, no new duke was to be elected at all.

The city's sumptuary laws—forbidding displays of obvious wealth among non-patriars—had rolled down into the Lower City streets as well, and the Flaming Fist was grudging enforcing it. Even they didn't seem happy about it.

More vandalism was cropping up. More painted signs of "Down with the patriars!", "Free Baldur's Gate!", and "Extinguish the Flaming Fist!" were appearing, defacing public property. More minor criminals going to the stocks, and still more going to the dungeons of the Seatower.

And in the last two days, several fires had sprung up during the night. They didn't spread far amidst the constant drizzle, and injuries were minimal, but they were all buildings that drew money away from the Outer City. Guild houses, or places of business that excluded the membership of Outer City residents. Even some residences of individuals who speak openly against the poor.

And that's when Primeiro heard about the kidnappings.

In the past, kidnappings for ransom in Baldur's Gate was a frequent, if minor problem—going years back. Typically, kidnappers demanded relatively low ransoms, which were paid, and the victims were set free. No kidnapped victims in the Gate had been harmed beyond the loss of a finger for at least a generation. In one famous incident, Duke Abdel himself had shut down a kidnapper's ring and saved more than twenty kids, storming a safe house with only two Flaming Fist privates and  personally killing their leader.

But things had clearly changed, and there was now no Abdel Adrian around. News reached the streets before even Baldur's Mouth could report it: there had been new kidnappings in just the last couple of days. The ransoms were high, the payment instructions murky. The adolescent son of Valaith Chadur, a well-known Lower City stonecarver, was the first. The boy's strangled body was found near the harbormaster's office. The second victim was Lara Alreven, the wife of Alraner Alreven, owner of a glassblower's shop. Her bludgeoned body was dumped in an alley outside the Elfsong Tavern. The third was Harali Avir, the daughter of Aurayaun, owner of the Blade and Stars. Her body was found outside Sorcerous Sundries. All the victims were Lower City residents.

The Flaming Fist and the Watch were now out in force in their respective jurisdiction, interrogating and getting rough with even the most helpful citizens. Only the Guild could have done this, was the common outcry. But the Outer City people shook their heads and said it was a scheme of the patriars.

On the way to visit Rael on the third day of his friends' absence, and feeling overwhelmed acting alone, Primeiro found himself walking through a heavy downpour. The sky was cloudy and dark, and the streets were nearly empty as citizens sought shelter from the rain. A barking, then yelping dog sprinted past the mage from around one street corner, followed by a sudden swarm of screeching rats. It sent Primeiro ducking into an alley for safety...

...Where he noticed a curious item sitting atop a pile of trash because a peculiar odor had drawn his attention to it. A cracked ceramic bowl that smelled of sulfur and smoke—the alchemical nature of it was obvious, but there was something about it seemed rare, and out of place [pending an Intelligence check!]. Primeiro pocketed the item after seeing initials carved into its base: F E L O G Y R / B G.

When he reached the Calim Jewel Emporium at the designated hour of the morning, Primeiro found that Rilsa Rael was not there. But another Calishite man was. When the mage asked him about Rael, he simply pointed to a bowl full of copper jewelry, where Primeiro found an old brass key with a rune imprinted on it and a folded-up note that read:

Per 9-F, LL reparations have been satisfied.

In the Undercellar, give this to Ribbons.

Now Primeiro needed to find out what and where the "Undercellar" was. When he asked the Calishite clerk, the man smiled and said, "Try the Wide."

Session 9: A Guilded Cage

Characters involved:

• Amaril, elf cleric of Helm.
• Shrain, dwarf cleric of Moradin.
• Zelder, halfling rogue and pastry aficionado.
• Ulther Stormwind, human fighter of Icewind Dale.
• Vaicht, elf monk of Kelemvor.

With the ghouls put down and the Bhaal cultist slain, the PCs discovered the body of a young Outer City woman in the next chamber. One leg had been mostly eaten by the ghouls, but they also saw that she'd been struck on the head and stabbed repeatedly in the back. Zelder, however, looked closer and determined that the woman had died from a more natural cause: sundown fever, an affliction known to strike the Outer City. There was also traces of grave dirt on her clothes and nails, suggesting that she'd been dug up then inflicted with further the wounds. And the ghouls...perhaps they showed up later? It was not unheard of for ghouls to sniff out fresh corpses.

The PCs left behind the evidence that Ravengard had asked them to leave in the crypt: the broken cane, the pipe, and the bloody dagger belonging to Ariax Rillyn. What conclusions others would make upon finding the woman, the ghouls, and the cultist was anyone's guess. Would it do what Ravengard wanted?

 From the crypts, the party was joined by Piper and Ulther, and together they set out to make the midnight secret meeting they'd learned about in the Baldur's Mouth edition that Primeiro had decoded: : “Gather at the last bell above the ankle of the Sow’s Foot.”

On the way up through the Lower City, in the constant drizzle of rain, they encountered a swarm or rats skittering through one intersection. Pausing to let the vermin pass, they saw in the rear a very large one among them. It stopped, swiveled its head at them, and hissed—at which point the PCs shot arrows and tossed daggers at the thing. Most of the missiles missed the giant rat, but Shrain hurled one of his hand axes and it buried itself in the animal's body. Twitting, it fell over, dying. Even as they hurried on their way, they heard more rats screeching nearby and the shouts of people fleeing from the masses.

In the Outer City they had another strange encounter: A man sitting in the darkness, catching their attention by creating sparks in some sort of wand. Zelder approached the vagrant, who sat against a building wall, but the man said only a few cryptic words; something about another person they should be concerned with. But a quick look around revealed nothing. When Zelder lit his torch to get a better look, the vagrant was gone.

They continued on their way to the Sow's Foot district. Once there, Piper and Vaicht asked around among some of the still-awake residents. When the monk offered a few silver pieces to one woman, she said, after telling them where Hamhock's Slaughterhouse was, "Bless you and bless Nine-Fingers." Nine-Fingers was not a name they knew.

Soon they came upon the darkened building, where two roguish men stood outside as guards; Piper knew that if this was a secret and important Guild meeting, then sentries would have already seen them by this point anyway. There was no plan to infiltrate secretly or to attack anyone; they simply wished to attend and learn what was going on. To prove their way in, Zelder successfully folded the Baldur's Mouth broadsheet the way that Primeiro had, revealing the secret message that had prompted their knowledge of the secret meeting in the first place.

Rilsa Rael

Inside, the PCs found their way down to the cellar of the slaughterhouse, where a central, chanedeliered and balconied room had become the gathering hall of knaves—men and women of ill repute, thieves, or, if what Rilsa Rael had told them before was true, the only people working on behalf of the common people of Baldur's Gate. The knaves here seemed like Outer City rogues, but some looked like Lower City citizens.

It was clear that some of the PCs were recognized—the title "Heroes of the Wide" followed them still. Shrain spotted Rael on the balcony above, and she returned his gaze, acknowledging him. The PCs also saw that the half-elf Laraelra Thundreth, sorceress and proprietor of the Low Lantern, was also in attendance. They'd last seen her escaping in the harbor when they'd shut the place down on behalf of Marshal Ravengard and the Flaming Fist. Her glare proved she remembered them well enough. (Vaicht, Amaril, and Piper had not arrived in the city then and had no idea who she was.)

Zelder spotted a curious halfling named Thurgo Songbuckle and exchanged with him opinions about the food of Baldur's Gate. The latter had had procured some delicious meat pies and so the former bargained for one to try one himself. Thurgo's reason for being there at the Guild meeting was unclear—the not-entirely-friendly halfling was evasive about particulars—but he did say he was newly arrived in the city and was only there for the gold. He seemed amused by all of Baldur's Gate's troubles and even asked Zelder about the new rat problem.

Before long, the crowd quieted as another person of importance arrived: Nine-Fingers, evidently the leader of the Guild, a young woman attended by an entourage of weapon- and magic-using females. The gathering quieted as Nine-Fingers addressed the PCs: clearly she knew who they were, but she asked them to introduce the newcomers among them. They did so.

The PCs—particularly Ulther Stormwind, who'd been involved in Baldur's Gate's business since Duke Abdel's assassination—admitted to working with the Flaming Fist when Nine-Fingers asked about Ravengard and Silvershield, but also cited a greater interest in uncovering the plot behind Abdel's death. Nine-Fingers seemed to respect this, and she said she would like to work with them about this, given their aid to the city thus far. But there was some other business that needed addressing first: Guild justice.

Nine-Fingers, guildmistress

Thundreth demanded reparations for what the PCs had done to her, and Nine-Fingers granted it to her—the Low Lantern's proprietor was obviously someone of respect in the Guild. The challenge: PCs would have to face an equal number of opponents as themselves—six against six. Whether the victor granted mercy or not was up to them, but whatever the result, the meaning was clear: any grievance between the PCs and Laraelra Thundreth would be ended when it the fight was concluded.

And so the room cleared and the chamber with its four doorways and high balcony became an impromptu arena with a crowd of guild members! Thundreth stepped out from one doorway as her six henchmen rushed into the room and immediately set upon the PCs with short swords.

The battle went well at first—a couple of the men were knocked out, and Piper even forced a third to relent—until Thundreth herself got involved. She cast a spell of sleep upon the PCs, and it dropped three of the party outright now that their wounds had made them more susceptible to the magic. The remaining three weren't faring too well, and Thundreth herself rushed over to Ulther's unconscious form and held her dagger over his neck, demanding that the others "surrender or he dies!"

In a moment of desperation, Piper decided to try to take Thundreth down with a single bolt from his hand crossbow. The attempt proved ill-advised and his distractions too great: Instead of a perfect shot, the crossbow bolt flew wide (nearly hitting a spectator on the balcony above) and the crossbow itself tumbled awkwardly out of his grip. Embarrassed, and in a compromised position, Piper had no other choices.

Thundred's remaining henchmen set upon him and the other two PCs still standing, knocking them all out with the pommels of their swords.

Everything went black!

At the mercy of Laraelra Thundreth and the Guild...

Session 8: Schemes and Sepulchers

Characters involved:

• Amaril, elf cleric of Helm.
• Primeiro d’Pirazzi, human mage extraordinaire.
• Shrain, dwarf cleric of Moradin.
• Zelder, halfling rogue and pastry aficionado.
• Vaicht, elf monk of Kelemvor.
• Rulas, elf ranger.

After several days of their own snooping about, after following up one of Zelder's leads (in vain, sadly) about a superior fruit cake, the PCs headed towards the Hissing Stones bathhouse, where the'd been invited to meet with Ravengard.

Click to enlarge.

On the way, they noticed a lamp lad selling copies of Baldur's Mouth to citizens on the street. But Vaicht noticed that the boy sold a copy of the broadsheet to one citizen that appeared to come from a different stash of them. Unusual. After bribing the boy, the PCs procured a copy of this other paper which, upon further study, Primeiro discovered contained a hidden code once properly folded. The message was: “Gather at the last bell above the ankle of the Sow’s Foot.”

The last bell was midnight, while the Sow's Foot was a district in the Outer City. In addition, there was an establishment in that district known as Hamhock's Slaughterhouse; they recalled that a hamhock was the cut of the pig above the ankle. It seemed there was to be some sort of secret meeting at the slaughterhouse that very night.

At the Hissing Stones—a place of serenity, heated rooms and pools, and very little clothing (except silk robes, which the PCs had to accept)—they met with Ulder Ravengard. He was grim, as always, but still thanked them for their part in bringing the hand-thieves to justice. Now he had another task for them.

There was talk now that a new duke was due to be appointed by the Parliament of Peers and three men had been nominated already:

1. Ravengard himself. Traditionally, the fourth duke comes from or is associated with the Lower City. Duke Abdel, for example, not had not been a patriar.
2. Wyllyck Caldwell, a respectable patriar and, according to Ravengard, a good man.
3. Ariax Rillyn, a patriar and judge.

There was, however, a rumor that the Parliament of Peers wanted to stack the Council with a fourth patriar and cut the Lower City out of the government altogether. While Ravengard admitted he wasn't excited at the prospect of a politician's seat, he did say that it would give him, and the Flaming Fist, the authority to "squeeze the dirty water out of this city," like they should have long ago. To bring order to Baldur's Gate again. According to him, the patriars lacked the courage to properly "wield the Fist."

However, Ravengard knew he wasn't the favorite of the three. Caldwell, while respectable and well-intentioned, would simply be manipulated by the other patriars—he would be little more than a puppet. Ravengard intended to speak with him separately and see if he could be convinced to decline the nomination.

Ulder Ravengard

And Ariax Rillyn? According to Ravengard, the man was a monster in a seat of officialdom. Ravengard said he'd presided over many cases involving Guild agents and operatives, and he almost always let them walk free. He was clearly on the Guild's payroll! Ravengard explained that he had a plan he wasn't happy about, but believed it would remove him as an obstacle for the office of duke. He simply needed some incriminating evidence to "surface," and he asked the PCs to do this. He admitted it was underhanded, but given the circumstances, he had to "fight fire with fire."

The task: after dark, place several items (that Ravengard would entrust them with) inside the crypt of the Szarr family in the district of Tumbledown just outside the eastern gate. Ravengard would handle the rest; they need only deliver the goods. The PCs agreed, with some deliberation, although it was clear that they weren't especially keen on Ravengard's methods or what, if anything, lay behind all this. Was this really just a move to place himself in a position of greater political power? Until now, the marshal had been at least direct and honest about his actions.

When asked about money, Ravengard conceded that if they did this task, he would see them compensated. After the meeting at the bathhouse, three items were delivered to the PCs in a bundle, the items to be planted in the Szarr crypts after dark. A blood-stained dagger, a pipe, and the broken head of a cane—all one way or another clearly marked as belonging to Ariax Rillyn. The PCs were disappointed about how obvious—about how too obvious—such items were. Clearly Ravengard was new to such underhanded tactics.

Before dark, the PCs did some further investigations on their own. Vaicht spied on the lamp lad they'd purchased the broadsheet from earlier, marked another citizen buying the "special" edition of Baldur's Mouth, and followed the stranger to his home. Just for future reference. Meanwhile, Primeiro, in the guise of a more affluent citizen, visited the offices of Baldur's Mouth to speak with its owner, a man named Eldren Needle. The mage told him that in the morning, there would be word of some incident during the night; Baldur's Mouth should remain impartial and not jump to conclusions concerning the event. Eldren couldn't promise him anything, but he would consider it. Primeiro said he'd return.

Click to enlarge.

The others, meanwhile, drafted up a written account of what Ravengard had asked them to do, signed it with their names, and showed it to a worried Brother Hodges, telling him where they would hide the document (inside the shrine of Helm), in case things get ugly and they need some sort of absolving. Perhaps? The Ilmatari priest agreed, said he would help if he could, but was most concerned that any inquisition would affect the poor he attended to each day.

After dark, with the help of a ranger acquaintance of Shrain's—Rulas, an elf who'd done mercenary work, like him—they exited the city and walked up the hill toward Tumbledown. There, they found at the base of the cliffs the door to the Szarr crypts. Rulas found that the door was ajar and the stench of rotting flesh was strong beyond. Not a good sign. But the PCs were fazed.

Inside, down a curving stair cut into the bedrock, they found the crypts. Bones had been interred in the walls and there were a pair of sarcophagi. But there was also a smear of blood upon the ground that trailed around the corner....  Already prepared for an ambush, the PCs were not surprised when their voices drew the attention of the crypt's current occupants and were attacked.

It was three hideous, fang-mouthed, tongue-writhing ghouls, clad in rags and hissing for fresh met—and they were led by a spell-using, cowled stranger whose actions and ugly ritual scars marked him as another deranged cultist. The ghouls were blasted with spells, blades, and arrows, though one of them managed to slash open one of Vaicht's arteries and send him slipping to the ground in a spray of blood. They got the elf back on his feet with some timely healing magic, though the cultist used a spell that gave Primeiro a painful, shirt-staining wound.

The battle ended quite promptly when the last of the ghouls had been dropped and Shrain—still angry from his recent battles but quite possibly just because he's a cantankerous dwarf—buried the entirety of his battle axe into the cultist's torso. Scale male, cloth, flesh, and bone parted smoothly and the man went down in a fountain of gore.

Session 7: Unhanded

Characters involved:

• Aramil, elf cleric of Helm.
• Pisqual “Piper” Dunraven, human rogue and ambitious thief.
• Primeiro d’Pirazzi, human mage extraordinaire.
• Shrain, dwarf cleric of Moradin.
• Tredek, half-orc barbarian and reader-of-books.
• Zelder, halfling rogue and pastry aficionado.
• Vaicht, elf monk of Kelemvor.

When Ulther and Shrain started towards the Twin Songs district in pursuit of the suspected culprits, Zelder went and fetched the others from the opulent Helm and Cloak inn, where’d they all been staying on Silvershield’s coin. Tredek, Primeiro, and Zelder, met up with the others at Hadru’s pottery shop, and brief introductions were made. Ulther trusted the newcomers enough for now, and that was good enough for them.

Together, with no small amount of balcony-jumping and prestidigitatorial antics, they went into Hadru’s  cellar and confronted the patriar youths who'd sought asylum there. Led by Marek Oberon, a 16-year-old boy who brandished a rapier, the six kids tried to get the PCs to leave them alone. Marek's younger sister was among them, as was the Ravenshade boy, whom the PCs had learned never returned home the previous night.

Through a combination of intimidation and persuasion, the Heroes of the Wide and their new friends took charge of them all and discovered among them the missing hands of Minsc! And Boo, the beloved (stone) hamster. A large chunk of cracked marble, it was certainly unwieldly, but Ulther shouldered the backpack and took charge of it—there was probably no greater prize in all of Baldur’s Gate than that piece of the Beloved Ranger statue.

The other statue hands were not to be found. Marek and the other patriar adolescents eventually divulged that they’d be convinced into breaking off the hands when they were at a party with some other kids. Alcohol had fueled the ill-advised prank. They all agreed, too, that it had been a boy of the Rillyn family (another patriar family) who had suggested the act, but had not taken part of it.

Boo, safe and
mostly sound.

Shrain was kept by his companions from driving a blade into the hands of the kids (or at least Marek)—the dwarf's vision of justice. Zelder made friends with Marek, who eventually came to trust that while he would be in trouble, they wouldn’t be harmed, and Marek told him that if he was brought back to his home, the halfling would be given all the pastries he could ever want. Meanwhile, Primeiro made some suggestive, if idle comments about Ravenshade’s mother—a noblewoman of whom Primeiro seemed rather fond. To be fair, all noblewomen seemed to garner the mage’s interest. Zelder, intrigue'd by the boy's offer, frequently spoke of muffins and tried to convince his companions to seek out a restaurant next—even though it was the middle of the night. They declined, as more pressing matters were at hand.

The PCs faced an important choice. Would they...

• Bring the patriar kids to Duke Silvershield in the Upper City, as he had requested?
• Bring them to the Seatower of Balduran in the Lower City, to face the justice of the Flaming Fist, as Ravengard had demanded?
• Bring them to the Counting House near the docks of the Lower City, as Rael had asked?

After much deliberation, they decided to bring the patriar youths to the Counting House. According to Rilsa Rael, the Counting House's owner, Rakath Glitterbeard, was the treasurer for the Council's Eminent Fellowship of Financiers, and he was in a position that could ensure the patriar families would be held financially responsible for their children's crimes. More importantly, Glitterbeard was a Guild sympathizer.

In order to bypass the garrison of the Flaming Fist, the PCs sent out their surreptitious new companion, the Piper, with one of the silver Fist brooches Marshal Ravengard had given them. He bluffed his way past two guard checkpoints using the brooch, and secured a ferry that was docked at the base of Wyrm's Rock specifically for the use of the Flaming Fist. Meanwhile, the others had carefully wove and bluffed their way past a Flaming Fist patrol by covering the kids up—who were manacled and hooded—as they brought them to the beach by the Outer City district of Rivington on the other side of the river. There the ferry picked them up, and the PCs drifted on the waters back towards the harbor of the Lower City.

When they came into the docks, not all went according to plan. A surprising number of Lower City residents were out and about at this early hour, and when the PCs brought the patriar youths to the door of the Counting House (as Rilsa Rael had asked them to), the crowds began to take notice of them. In fact, several men with torches came in and tried to seize the kids by force, demanding to know who they were. Someone even called out asking about Minsc’s hands. The crowd was initially rebuffed, mostly by Tredek, Vaicht, and Shrain, but a handful became a mob and soon something like a riot—or a lynching—commenced. The backpack containing Minsc’s hands and Boo was spilled open, exposing it to many in the crowds.

While Piper dashed off after some suspicious shadowy figures, the others contended with the surging and increasingly-maddening mob. Aramil shouted his god’s name and sought to calm the crowd, while Ulther warned them with his light-imbued greatsword that they were the Heroes of the Wide. Primeiro tripped several people with his quarterstaff, being jostled (and elbowed in the face) in turn. Tredek, Shrain, and Vaicht wrestled with the chief antagonists, successfully throwing down many, while Zelder defensively smacked the hands of those who got too near his charges. The halfling rogue was certain that this mob had formed much too quickly to be natural—it had been orchestrated somehow. Its individuals were reacting as mobs do, but it seemed to have been coaxed into being.

Piper chased the two figures who may have had a hand in the mob's creation, but they split up and he pursued one toward the docks. There she waited, then climbed down into the water of the harbor itself—confirmed later by the wavemistresses of Umberlee to have swum eastward.

By the time the PCs had scattered or beaten off the crowd (while killing none), four of the patriar youths had been spared from lynching. Yet both Marek Oberon and Veldyr Ravenshade had been torn from them and soon disappeared, screaming, apprehended!  With the statue hands and the four remaining kids, the PCs spilled into the Counting House for temporary refuge, where the dwarf Rakath Glitterbeard recorded what they told them…as promised, documenting the crime and the identity of the children to ensure that the families—and only the families—would pay the price. The PCs were, of course, not happy about losing two of the kids.

Then the PCs went to the Seatower of Balduran, imparted their tale (minus an account of meeting with Rael of the Guild), and surrendered the hands of the Beloved Ranger. Soldiers then went to collect the kids at the Counting House, as expected. The PCs stayed the night in the austere quarters of the Seatower, amidst the company of grim-faced (but appreciative) Flaming Fist soldiers.

The very next day, the PCs—and the whole city—learned of a grisly conclusion: The two boys that had been dragged off, Marek and Veldyr, were found at the base of the Beloved Ranger, bound, beaten, but alive....with their hands cleanly sliced off, and chained to them were all the other missing statue hands. The reaction in the Upper City was of horror and embarrassment. So great had been the outcry against the culprits of the defacements that the patriar families implicated in their children’s crime were said to have closed up the gates of their estates and holed up, hiding from repercussions. There was talk of exile. The two crippled boys were secreted away, and the four children taken into custody by the Flaming Fist were now being held for trial, and everyone expected they’d be imprisoned for several years, in the very least. Their families weren’t making much of an attempt to intervene on their behalf, fearing greater controversy and shame.

Several days passed, and Marshal Ravengard was not to be seen. Neither had Duke Silvershield called on the PCs, but they quickly learned that they were no longer allowes to stay at the Helm and Cloak Inn—it seemed clear Silvershield was displeased in the PCs’ actions. Meanwhile, the PCs suspected Rilsa Rael’s involvement in the quickly-assembled mob that had ripped the two kids away from them—and which might have lynched all the kids, had the PCs not fought to protect them. Her pawn shop, the Calim Jewel Emporium, was conspicuously closed.

During these days, the city seemed to calm down somewhat. Justice had been served, if confusedly, and clearly the three patriar families involved in the defacement of Minsc and Boo were also being blamed for the removal of all the other statue hands as well. The people were largely placated, for the statues would be restored with the help of the Gondsman priests. But unrest certainly continued to simmer between the poor Outer City, the beleaguered Lower City, and the paranoid Upper City.

Tredek spoke of what he had learned in the library of the High House of Wonders, about Bhaal, the Lord of Murder. Bhaal had been slain during the Times of Troubles well over a century ago, but foreseeing his own death, he had sired children in the mortal world in order to spread some of his divine power. In this way, he and his foul disciples had hoped to reincarnate him again someday—and that was a plot that Abdel Adrian had thwarted in his adventuring days long ago. Or so he believed. Duke Abdel, himself one of Bhaal’s mortal “children,” had slain the villain Sarevok, mightiest of the Bhaalspawn, and in the process had saved Baldur’s Gate from war and suffering. Abdel, the last of the Bhaalspawn, had managed to suppress the murderous evil in himself, the latent divinity of Bhaal.

But perhaps not. When he was slain by an unknown assassin in the Wide just several days ago, dark energy fumed from his wound—and his killer had transformed into some of fiend before the PCs had brought him down. Tredek would have learned more about Bhaal and his cult, but he found that some of the pages in the books he’d found had been carefully cut from the binding.

In any case, the PCs next received an invitation to meet Ulder Ravengard at the Hissing Stones, a bathhouse in the Lower City where Duke Abdel was known to frequent.