City of Splinters

I know that every city has its problems. There is no such thing as the perfect place. They all will have some form or another of issue, be it crime, greedy nobles, or simply being marred by the machinations of a few power hungry narcissists. Even knowing this, seeing the underbelly of Waterdeep came as quite a shock to me. Along the Sword the Coast those free cities that have outlawed slavery proudly proclaim their stance of the vile practice. Having the freedom to make choices for oneself is why I left the directed service of the Raven Queen, and so to see slaves in the free city of Waterdeep came as a shock, and set a fire deep within me.
 
After we completed the task for the Tymorans, Rhumor was formally admitted into their Order, and he seems to be quite pleased. I am uncertain how I feel about a god who is dedicated to randomness in the extremes, but to each their own I suppose.
 
We then met up with Conrad, along with several of the staff from the University. They were most curious to hear what Conrad had uncovered and had news of their own to share. Quite a bit had been discovered through research about the demi-plane that Lomis the Lich inhabits, which is also the likely location now of Virgil’s friend Whistler. They also have surmised that the strange thing in Conrad’s chest is but a piece of a larger whole that opens a portal to this other demi-plane. What a terrifying thought that must be for him! What happens if the other pieces are found and activated? Does he die? Does he lose his newfound power? Does he grow immensely in power? Perhaps nothing changes at all? Conrad has been instrumental in our endeavors thus far, and I do find myself experiencing a twinge in my gut when I think of the consequences of the shards being united to open the portal. ….and that’s before I even consider that an open portal means the Lich could get out! Because dragons running amuck is not enough.
 
After leaving the University, with Conrad in tow this time, we returned to Blackstar to plan out the next few days leading up to the meeting we have to attend with Leosin. The group was kind enough to consider how we might, ehm, procure, the Flametongue greatsword. This was a rather heated debate amongst us in terms of how to approach it. Most surprising was that Rhumor was the least enthusiastic about simply slipping in and taking it. Eventually Nuri simply got up and left saying she was going to gather more information. When she returned she had found out that the man who bought it was not actually a noble, but a broker purchasing on behalf of a local noble – a rather eccentric tabaxi named Sand, to be more precise. The decision was made to approach Sand and ask for an exchange, or perhaps a loan in exchange for the fame that would accompany the sword’s history should it be wielded by one of the Scalebreakers.
 
The noble did, in fact, turn out to be eccentric. After a lengthy diatribe about the history of nearly everything in his substantial collection, he eventually offered an exchange. He wanted us to retrieve a chest that had been allegedly stolen from him. He even knew where to find it. If it was his property, and he knew where it was, why not simply go to the authorities? In any event, we agreed. One of his guards took us to the location where the pilfered chest was stored – a warehouse in the dock district.
 
Rhumor, Conrad, and I stayed near the warehouse to scope things out, get a sense of any schedules, rhythms, guards, etc. The rest of the group headed back to the Blackstar. They were supposed to come meet us again later that night. Unfortunately, certain events began to unfold that derailed that plan. As Rhumor and I were observing the rather well guarded warehouse, they brought in a wagon containing slaves. Even child slaves. The wagonload of slaves was quickly unloaded and shuffled into the warehouse. I tried to get my familiars into the door to get a sense of what was going on, but a guard immediately shot my one cat, and squished the three others, spiders all. Talk about razor sharp eye sight! As I was contemplating how to proceed from there, a different group of slaves was loaded onto the wagon, and headed away from the warehouse. I couldn’t take it anymore. I abhor slavery. Its why I left the Raven Queen’s service in the first place. Even more so when children are involved. I followed the wagon until it was well out of sight and ear shot of the warehouse, and then made my move. I had carefully planned to simply kill the driver in one swift stroke from behind, but a large rut in the road jolted the cart and my initial strike missed. Still, it did not take long to end the wretched man. Local onlookers began to ask questions, and I pointed them to the newly freed slaves and bid them to help out the unfortunate souls I’d just freed. I then slipped away into the darkness to make my way back to the warehouse.
 
What I found was disastrous. Rhumor had made his move while I was gone, and Conrad had rushed off to find the rest of our team to bring them to aid. I had to rush in madly to reach the first group of guards that were firing shots at Rhumor, who had run down the far street from my position. In the end we killed all of the guards, but at a heavy cost to my resources. Given how few scratches Rhumor had, perhaps I was a bit hasty in my mad dash to aid him. About this time the rest of the team arrived. With no way to see into the warehouse, Virgil simply began charging the door, eventually shattering whatever was holding it in place, and the fight commenced once again. Inside the warehouse were many more guards, accompanied by a mage of not insignificant power. His fireball was a painful reminder of the dangers of magic users. With Nuri, Rhumor, and Conrad all somewhat nearby, I rushed into the largest concentration of guards and began attacking with abandon, hoping to keep half of them occupied and prevent everyone from concentrating their attacks on Virgil. The tactic worked, a little too well really. I took several nasty hits, and finally had to retreat to a covered corner of the warehouse. The two that followed me eventually landed enough lucky strikes to knock me out.
 
Visions of Her began to form in my mind’s eye again. That gripping fear. The loathing, the terror, the angst. This time was a little different than the last though. She looked at me as though she were amused. A wry, secret little smile curled on her lips. Not knowing what that meant exactly was almost worse than seeing her angry. But then, a series of familiar faces began to slowly march by me, the guards I had just finished sending to her domain… I opened my mouth to speak and then suddenly I was back in the warehouse. As I think back on this, now with a clearer mind, I am beginning to realize that even though I have made the choice to not fulfill her directly will, by living the life of an adventurer, I am still fulfilling her general directive. At least this way I get to decide who least deserves to stay in this plane… or do I?
 
I felt terrible. Somewhat stunned, completely spent, and exhausted. Nevertheless, I began to look around, feebly. I do not recall much of what happened in the next few minutes. The rest of the team was looking over the place, and interrogating a last single guard, who turned out to be a mercenary, to find out more information. I now know that we freed the last of the slaves in the building, found out from the mercenary that the slaves were being forced to dig a tunnel that would connect to Undermountain, and that the City Guard showed up not long after we learned all of this, and just after Conrad had slipped the quarry of our mission-Sand’s chest-into the bag of endless depths. Battered and bruised, I stumbled out of the warehouse as the City Guard cordoned off the area.