BQ-104: What are Waterdeep?

< Episode List >

• Uther Valens - Aasimar Warlock - Level 3: Frumpish apprentice of magic, wants to get everyone hooked on the hot new industrial magic: electric power.

• The Great Klardini - High Elf Wizard - Level 3: Elder elf, older than most other already old elves, once inhabited Waterdeep but already forgot that aspect of his life.

• Varian Bloomstrike - Eladrin Paladin - Level 3: Recently revisited the Feywild, his home plane of existence, and is now returning to the cityies of the Material Plane.

• Afik Bonefinger - Mountain Dwarf Fighter - Level 3: Don't call him short unless you are being respectable about it, and don't bring up his dead sailor comrades unless you're offering a quest about it.

• Mox - Goblin Ranger - Level 3: Recently inhabited property from a Waterdeep noble family member he knew nothing about—grew up on the streets of Waterdeep.

“I was watching this game show one time, and this one topic was about paying that power bill,” Mox says from the deck of the boat, staring off as Waterdeep looms on the horizon.

What?

Everyone smacks Mox on the back of the head to sort him out of his bad connection.

As they approach the massive city of Waterdeep, they stare in awe—like hardcore awe, like “Awe man, that’s a city right there! Hey look!” Sequestered around a plateau on the coast, the city sprawl hugs the shoreline—the rounded top of the Undermountain juts out of the city’s center, and ships pass in and out of port. Towering within the city are large, marble statues carved in the shape of various warriors, maidens and—a sahuagin?

They write that down.

The drizzly, wet Monthbruary weather forms a hazy fog that fogs shit up for them, billowing over the sea in humid, wet, adjective ways. Captain Semnu’s ship pulls into the harbor, and Afik feels the mark of Umberlee on his hand itch, as though the dead ghost of dead Larry’s dead mother is still reaching out to him.

“I feel some kind of way guys!” Afik shouts from his crate.

“I felt some kind of way too, which is more interesting because I'm involved,” Uther says.

“What could this be?” Afik says.

What could it be? Well it could wait for later, because Captain Semnu parks the boat, then helps the adventurers to hock all the loot they legally stole from Mox’s dead great uncle’s dead ancestors.

The gangplank lowers, and they step onto the wharf. Afik is happy to be off the ocean, enjoying the wharf. He likes wharfs. He likes dwarfs. He likes wharfs and dwarfs. At the end of the wharf are three guards—a halfling, a dwarf, and a human, all dressed in green and yellow liveries of Waterdeep’s City Watch. A man wearing a black robe stands with them. He carries a ledger book and marks the supplies leaving Captain Semnu’s ship.

Klardini steps up to the smallest guard and says, “Why hi, little fella!”

“Don't mock his height,” Afik mutters.

“Sign the registry,” the guard says, pointing to the ledger.

“An autograph, you say? Oh, no problem!” Klardini says, signing the book.

“State your business,” the guard then says.

“I'm here to sell some stuff,” Klardini says, then looks around, puzzled. “I'm here… where am I?”

The guard stares at Klardini with puzzlement in his jigsawed eyes—which makes no sense, but I’m not rewriting it! “This is the city of Waterdeep. You don't know what this place is?”

“This changed since I was here last,” Klardini says. “What year is it? It's been some time. Last time I was here there were not as many people.”

“Based on that, you could the last of the elves who were here,” the guard chuckles.

“There's no elves here?” Klardini says.

“None of the founding ones,” the guard says.

Then Klardini remembers the second Age of Elves—which is legally distinct from that other elf history written by that other person that those movies were made about…

Several elf scholars claim that the plateau upon which Waterdeep rests was once the site of Aelinthaladaar, the capital of the elves’ ancient empire of Illefarn. A dwarf prospector named Melair, however, discovered mithral deep beneath the mountain. In agreement with the Illefarni, Melair called kith and kin to mine the mountain and in the plateau, and thus Clan Melairkyn came to rule below as Illefarni did above.

Yet this alliance, quick in its creation, unraveled. Lasting less than the lifetime of a dwarf, for the emperor of the elves—what they call a “coronal”—commanded that all leave in the Retreat, that great exodus of elves from the continent back to their mystical isles of Evermeet. Not all elves agreed with this edict, and many were determined to stay. Well, what emperor has ever willingly allowed another to sit in his throne? The coronal had all of Aelinthaldaar razed by magic, and the remaining elves splintered into separate kingdoms. The Melairkyn, of course, saw this as a breaking of their bargain, and never again did they deal with elves. Instead, they tunneled deeper under the mountain, never to be heard from again.

And none of the players are ever going to remember that. 

“Nasty war that was,” Klardini mutters.

Especially that player.

“Well, everyone seems to be getting along now,” Uther says.

“How could you stay mad at these cute little fellas?” Klardini says, tussling the hair of the nearby armed, dwarf guard.

“… Klardini, hmm?” the guard says, repeating the name for good measure.

“The Great Klardini,” Klardini says, explicitly stating his whole name to the person he just treated like a child.

“What’s so great about ya?” the guard says.

“We haven't the time, young man, haven't the time,” Klardini says.

“Next!” the guard swats Klardini away and calls for the next one.

Uther steps up and signs the ledger with his trusty pen with parenthesis, “Now let me in!” he demands.

“Next up!” the guard says.

“Out of the way, tall people,” Afik says, scurrying forth.

The man in the black robe takes the ledger and lowers it down so that Afik can reach it.

“A bit disrespectful, but I'll take it,” Afik says, signing the ledger.

Mox scurries up to sign as well while the ledger is at his height. The guard then looks at Varian, the last to sign.”

“Hello, my name is Max Coolguy,” Varian says, rolling a 6 on his Deception roll.

The guards narrow their eyes at him, detecting the falsehood.

“Why's he lying?” Mox says, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“I don't trust people who want me to tell them my name!” Varian shouts in a panic. “I'll tell you my name, but I won't sign!” he adds, going full John Proctor on these authority figures.

“Hey, Varian Bloomstrike, sign it!” Klardini shouts.

The guard chuckles as Varian signs his legal name. “I knew you were lying from the beginning. I'm good friends with Max Coolguy, and you look nothing like him.”

The man with the black robes and the ledger finally speaks, “How long will you be staying?”

“A while,” Mox says. “I live here.”

The man nods. “Don’t forget the monthly tax.”

Speaking of paying taxes, income, 401K’s, W-2’s, Warhammer 40k's, and all the other whatnots, the adventurers then tell the man with the ledger that they’re hoping to set up some kind of business in Waterdeep. The man then hands them a copy of The Code Legal, a summary of common laws within Waterdeep. The laws are sorted into four major categories: crimes against lords, officials, and nobles; crimes against the city; crimes against the gods; crimes against citizens.

“Crime against citizens?” Klardini says.

“I'm a citizen!” Mox says.

“How do we become citizens?” Klardini says.

The man in the black robes points out to the different three wards within the city—specifically, the ones closes to the adventuerers: the Dock Ward, the Southern Ward, and the Trade Ward.

The Dock Ward is where you live if you’re broke, or if you’re a sailor, or if you’re a warehouse. Ain’t many nobles and wealthy folks in this area, and since it’s where the ships pull into harbor, you never know who you might bump into—like some adventurers! Like these guys! That’s where they are now! Mox grew up in the Dock Ward because he was a lowly, poor, vagabond, lower class, orphaned, unclaimed, forgotten, green, ingrateful, broke, thieving, rag-tag, goblinoid, stupid, poop-flinging, garbage-living, child of the city.

The Southern Ward is different than the Dock Ward—you don’t have to be poor to live in the Southern Ward. You just have to be different! Many new arrivals, or long-staying foreigners, or immigrants, or just plain-old not-native Waterdavians (that’s the nomenclature for someone from Waterdeep), live in the Southern Ward. It’s like the city took all of the people who are the most different and just kind of shoved them down there… or maybe they just congregated naturally like many other pockets of culturally-similar people in today’s modern cities. Few people are brimming with money in this area, but the vibrant cultures are so beautiful and vast that anyone could find anything from anywhere if they have the time, money, patience, and tolerance of others. Roll for tolerance!

You failed!

So go to the Trade Ward!

The Trade Ward is Waterdeep’s hip, hoppin’, yo-yo, what-up my homeslice, you dogs ready to get glizzy in the uptown, no cap, dab, like-my-reel, smash-that-bell, hold-my-phone-and-take-my-selfie-but-I-guess-it’s-not-really-a-selfie-unless-I-take-it-unless-instead-of-it-being-a-pun-on-“my-self”-it’s-a-pun-on-“his-self”-or-“her-self”-or-“them-self”-or-“y’all’s-self’s”-but-based-on-reflexive-pronoun-agreements-the-pun-still-doesn’t-make-sense-because-reflexive-pronouns-need-to-match-in-person-and WHY did I get a degree in Writing and English and use it to write a blog that makes no money? This is the fancy uptown district. Gentrified as hell. Parties, shopping, bars, always busy day-and-night, girl-go-get-yo-nails-done side of town.

Oh, and two gangs, the Zhentarim and Xanathar’s Guild, are stirring up nonsense in the streets as well.

Mox is aware of all this.

“Welp, I'm followin' the little feller,” Klardini says, looking at the goblin.

“Yeah, Mox, where's your base?” Uther says.

“Uh, hm... I have like a base of operations in this area,” Mox says gesturing to the Dock Ward. “But this is not the best area, and we find ourselves with more money than before. So maybe we don't want to live here.”

Mox considers getting glizzy.

“If we're talking about setting up an adventuring guild to attract people, it depends on the type of people we want to attract,” Mox says.

“Let us service the small people of Waterdeep! They're in the most need!” Afik says.

Mox considers not getting too glizzy, but maybe rolling for tolerance would be better. He also realizes that he didn't inherit property from the death of his dead great uncle, Sir Brigford the Wise, which is odd because he's a noble... shouldn’t he have a holding of some kind?

“I don’t want to set down roots yet,” Uther says, rootless in his ways.

“Are you going to introduce us to your family, Mox?” Klardini says.

I don’t really have family,” Mox says. He never had a family until they all died.

“Are you embarrassed? What about your neighbor? Did you know anyone here?” Klardini says.

“I think it's time to have a fresh start!” Mox says.

That’s when they go to the freakin’ Yawning Portal because MY GOND they spend all their freaking time sitting on the docks just wasting time shit so Mox guides them through his little slumlord former home, scurries past a bunch of ne’er-do-wells, and they arrive in the Castle Ward…

The Castle Ward is basically the municipal, old downtown part of Waterdeep—where you pay your water bill or vote—if Waterdeep even did such a thing! The adventurers take note of the older, traditional architecture—then they arrive at the Yawning Portal, a tavern full of mercenaries, locals, adventuring parties, and other cool people.

Let’s see what’s inside!

Come on!

Let’s go!

Within the tavern, the ruckus of jovial joviness echoes. Wooden beams, chandeliers, rustic low lighting, and the sizzling scent of fried food fill the atmosphere. Barmaids and barbutlers hustle and bustle and rustle, all under the watch of a mustached bartender who looms behind the counter.

Mox bumps into a fellow who immediately apologizes and offers to buy Mox a drink. He looks up and sees that Mox has four friends in tow. “Well, I suppose five drinks then!” he says.

“We accept!” Mox says.

“What part of Waterdeep do you come from?” the man says, sitting at a table with his new compatriots.

“The Dock Ward,” Mox says.

“The Dock Ward, eh?” the man says. “Been there many times—many times! Now your friends here, are they locals as well or are they out of town?”

“A little in between at the moment,” Mox says. “We are figuring that out. They’re not from here, but they might be from here now—it depends how well Waterdeep treats us.”

The man chuckles. “So you’re trying to get a business going?”

“Maybe,” Mox says.

“Yes, who is the business semnator around here?” Varian says.

“Semnator? Oh well if you want to establish a business, it depends on what that business is. The city of Waterdeep in many ways is managed by guilds. You have to pay a tax of sometime up front but you can set up a merchant shop however you feel. You will be highly encouraged to join in with one of the guilds if your business has anything to do with them. What kind of business did you have in mind?”

“A business where we get to apply violence constructively,” Varian says.

“Possibly a dwarven brothel!” Afik adds.

“With electricity,” Uther says. “It’s a new thing we’re coming up with. You’ll love it.”

The man shrugs at that. “So you’re looking into being mercenaries?”

“Adventurers,” Uther clarifies.

“Ah, understood—well as far as I’m concerned, I don’t think there is a guild set up for that. Adventurers tend to be very in-and-out. However… if you’re looking to establish a place of business, make sure you source guild-sanctioned agencies to retrofit the area. It’s the best way to make sure things are done by the book—according to code!”

“We support union shops, don’t worry,” Mox says.

“So is there an area you were planning on setting up your shop?” the man says.

“This place looks pretty nice. Can we set our guild up in the Yawning Portal?” Uther says.

The man chuckles to himself. “Oh Durnan over there…” he points to the mustached man behind the bar. “This is his place. Adventurers come here quite often, mostly to get together and exchange information, but also to go down to the Undermountain as well.”

He points to a large well, twenty feet long, in the middle of the bar behind Durnan. A rope and pully system rests above it.

“What’s good about this location is that it’s near the Trade Ward, the Dock Ward, and it’s in the Castle Ward,” the man says, tapping his hand on the table. “It gets people from either side. The Castle Ward though would be a good place to set up as well since your ward carries some weight with you—if you’re in the Castle Ward, then you’re homestead is full of history and old money. If you’re in the Dock Ward, well… it can have some rough edges, but you will not be short of people needing help. How much they can pay for the help is another story. But ultimately, it’s up to you and how much you’re willing to spend. Oh yea, my name is Jalester Silvermane!” the man says, having forgotten to introduce himself earlier. It happens sometimes!

“Tell us about this Undermountain…” Varian says.

“And tell us your business, Silvermane,” Mox says.

Silvermane thinks for a while. His eyes cloud up. He looks through a book on his table for a while. “I’ve mostly been staying here—recently lost a loved one in a street fight last year so… so I don’t know.”

“You had to look that up sir?” Varian says.

“I’m very drunk!” Silvermane says. “And very depressed! This is the downside of having too much of an open world—you can’t find where you’re going. I take the lay of the land, see who is coming in, and if someone needs to be pointed somewhere, I let them know. As an adventuring guild do you think you’ll do most of your work in town or outside of town.”

“Depends on where the adventure is,” Varian says. “I imagine we’ll look for new clientele in the city.”

Silverman chuckles. “Well whenever you feel up for it, for just fifteen gold pieces a head, Durnan will let people down into the Dungeon of the Mad Mage!”

Lightning would crack here if it was storming.

Uther uses some lightning magic to make it crack though. A rat dies from extreme voltage. Squeak.

Varian leans in. “I happen to be looking for some kind of Dungeon of the Mad Mage.”

“Yeah, but this one costs money. Let’s see if we can find something that doesn’t have a cover charge,” Uther says.

“Why do they pay to get in?” Varian says.

“I bet they’re hiding lots of spellbook pages down there,” Mox says to Klardini.

“Explain that, Mr. Silvermane!” Varian says.

“Do you have a free trial?” Afik says.

“Do locals get a wristband discount?” Varian says.

“Is there a senior citizen's discount?” Klardini says.

“Who do we give the money to? What if we just walk in? Is it like honors system or something because we know how to get around honors systems,” Uther says.

“Durnan controls the way in and out. It's hard to get in and out without him knowing it,” Silvermane says, pointing to Durnan.

“He’s cleaning glasses. He shouldn’t even notice,” Afik says.

“He's running a bar and a lucrative some kind of Mad Mage Dungeon?” Varian says.

“Sometimes bartenders are really good at that!” Silvermane says. “I heard of one who became a Merchant Prince of Port Nyanzaru due to her ability to work!”

“Port Nyanzaru? Sounds made up,” Uther says. “He’s probably talking about Dur-Dur-Dur Land actually. That’s what I’ve heard it called!”

“I tell ya what. Once you get your first client, you come back and see me. I’ll pay your first way in,” Silvermane says.

“Sounds like you're our first client then!” Uther says. “We did it!”

“We’re ready for that right now!” Klardini says.

“Sure… give me a moment to buy the adventure and put it into your adventure books!” Silvermane says, hastily going to roll20 and buying the Dungeon of the Mad Mage adventure that he didn’t plan on the party jumping into at that moment.

With their fees paid, they leap into the open well behind Durnan, shimmying down the rope and landing at the bottom of a circular room with a path leading away. The room is built of stone, and the walls are bedecked with old, rusty shields. The floor is covered in dirt and dust.

“Bring me something cool back!” Silvermane shouts from above.

The adventurers decide to immediately gear up in case some nonsense comes their way—Klardini preps with spells, armoring himself up as Uther rattles his little electron genie lamp thing and out pops an imp! His familiar, Imp E. Dimp, flutters in the air. Klardini’s familiar, the owl named Hootini, flutters around as well.

“That's a cool imp!” Silvermane shouts down.

“Imp turn invisible so he can't see you,” Uther says, not liking random comments about his imp.

Klardini casts detect magic but detects no magic except for the magical friends around him. Because friendship is magic! And friends is a magic spell!

Uther finds a phallic drawing on one of the shields on the wall, which makes him chuckle, so he takes out a piece of charcoal and draws the phallic symbol bigger. Everyone laughs at this.

“Imp-a-dimp-a dimp!” Imp-a-Dimp says, also laughing at the peepee drawing.

They send the familiars ahead because they’re unfamiliar with this place. Using their psychic woo-woo-woo connection with the familiars, Uther and Klardini see that ahead of them is a long hallway that ends in a room full of pillars. Not the soft kind that you lay your head on, but the hard kind that you lay your head on—if you’re weird.

Imp-a-Dimp flutters invisibly and sees a bugbear hiding in waiting behind the pillar. The muscular, hairy, sharp-toothed humanoid is large and goblin-like—possibly one of those weirdos that lays its head on the hard kind of pillars.

“Who speaks bugbear? Talk to it!” Klardini says.

They approach the hallway and wave at the bugbear.

It doesn’t wave back.

Hootini flies really high and sees another Bugbear. It’s fighting time!  Mox is the first to draw, shooting and missing twice at the ambushing bugbears. He uses his dread ambusher ability, which does nothing because he misses. If there’s one think we’ve learned about Mox, he only needs to miss four or five times before he finally hits something.

“Well, I guess I'm gonna go shoot that thing!” Klardini says, then casts klardini's mind splinter, which causes a psychic beam to rattle the bugbear’s brain and hurt it for five damage. Old man damage is superior! Ouch, my Alzheimer’s!

Afik charges the nearest bugbear, keeping it away from his friends with the ranged support. He swats with both axes, missing with one and cleaving a gash across the bugbear with the other. The bugbear takes its morningstar and whirls on the dwarf, barely missing the stout, bearded bastard.

Varian draws his longsword, but not the way that Uther drew his wiener. He takes it from the scabbard and hacks at the bugbear, dealing 8 damage. Yowch! I’m a hurt bugbear!

“Scrubs!” Varian taunts them. Varian then uses fey step, targeting Uther so that he’s closer to the fight and can chase down the second bugbear, which has turned to retreat further into the dungeon. "Have a little spring in your step!"

Shut up Varian.

Uther narrows in on the fleeing bugbear and raises his hand, conjuring an eldritch blast of lightning—but the attack whizzes past his quarry and explodes on the stone wall. The familars fly after the bugbear, and Imp-a-Dimp tries to trip the foe—instead the bugbear steps on him, and he cries “Aaaaah! Limp-e-limp!”

Hey guess who learned how to shoot stuff? Mox hits and kills the bugbear with an arrow through the old noggin.

“Good job! Well done!” Klardini congratulates the goblin.

Afik chases after the fleeing bugbear with a sparkly magic owl and an invisible-but-sparkly-if-you-could-see-it magic imp leading the way. Meanwhile, near the dead bugbear around those pillars, there’s a surprise!

Its brain crawls out of its head!

The skull of the bugbear cracks apart, and a pink, wrinkly brain scurries forth from the cranium. It has four clawed feet, and it launches towards Varian, unleashing a psychic scream that rattles Varian’s thoughts—but he persists! The creature then claws at the eladrin, raking open terrible wounds for 8 points of damage.

Brain damage! Ouch!

Uther is still chasing the fleeing bugbear, and he misses another lightning attack, which makes him ripshit mad. He sends his imp forward, then notices the bugbear has fled into a room with a collapsed wall and a small tunnel. A dead goblin lies buried in the rubble from the collapse. Poor, stupid goblin.

Mox takes swing at brain monster, hitting it with his shortsword. The blade sinks into the brain, but not nearly as much as he expected—this creature has resistance to certain attacks! Mox has attacks! Mox disengages and runs away.

Klardini casts haunted bells at the creature. "Somebody's lost their mind!" he shouts.

The brain creature blasts another wave of stupid towards Varian, and it breaks Varian’s mind! His intelligence drops down to zero, and the stupid, dumb eladrin falls into an idiot heap on the ground, his glazed-over eyes stare blankly towards the ceiling and his dipshit dumb brain falls back to a factory default setting.

The brain monster creeps toward’s Varian’s head…

Uther turns around, having lost the fleeing bugbear through the collapsed tunnel, and blasts the brain monster away from Varian with an eldritch blast for 7 lightning damage.

Mox takes another stab at the creature. “There's a really evil brain here! I need help!” he shouts.

Klardini leaps forward with a bone-creaking jump and conjures up a barrage of magic missiles, which launch forth and blast the brain monster into oblivion, punching holes into its wrinkly brain.

With the bugbear and its monster brain killed, they are no longer in combat. One bugbear, however, escaped. They check out the room with all the pillars and discover it has four ways in and out—the eastern hall is the way they came in. The southern hall is the way the bugbear escaped from. The north and western halls remain unexplored.

Klardini loots the bugbear and finds 7 copper pieces. “Who wants copper? We've got one... two... we won't count Varian because he won't know the difference,” he says, passing out the loot.

After careful debating (none) they opt to take Varian back to the surface since he’s currently infected with a debilitating case of the dumb. He needs to get his intelligence back.

“We need to get him to any intelligence giving things...” Uther says. “Do we need to take him to school or something?”

Silvermane’s voice echoes from down the eastern hall. “How's level 1 of the dungeon coming along?” he shouts.

“Bad! You got the bucket and rope?” Mox shouts in return.

“Yeah!” he responds.

They drag Varian back to the entrance and dump him into the bucket with the loot. They put the dead brain monster in there too.

“Do you want me to pull it up?” Silvermane says.

“Yeah, please, and if you can put a blanket on him or something, that’s good,” Mox says. “Also, if you can make him smarter... can you, like, read to him?”

“Imp-a-dimp...” Varian gurgles from the bucket.

“I heard that the King of Omu once had a hat he wore on his hip that would bring up his intelligence,” Uther wonders out loud.

Uther investigates the pillars and finds that the top of one pillar has a big ol’ constrictor snake skeleton wrapped around it—as is normal? Maybe? Perhaps it’s a culturally significant thing in one place or another—but Uther snatches the skull off the snake with Mox because it looks cool.

They venture forth from the first room where Varian got dumbed down, and Uther commands his imp to open a door. Inside is a room lit by a magic sword! The sword is shoved into a wooden fighting dummy, like someone really wanted to kill that dummy, and on the ground beneath the sword is a rotted, severed hand.

Surely there can’t be hijinks in here?

“I think we should get one of the familiars to get the sword out of the thing,” Mox says, not wanting to touch it.

“I think we should get that severed hand to match my snake skull,” Uther says, wanting a complete set of… something.

The familars are too small to manipulate the sword—it’s wedged in there tight. So Afik steps up and pulls sword out of the dummy. Afik becomes king!

Except he doesn’t.

“I have my own light source now,” Afik says, swinging the glowing sword around. Neat!

He holds the sword up for Klardini to cast identify on it so that they know what kinds of hijinks are abound. Surely there are hijinks. It’s a dungeon and that sword looked trapped as hell.

Klardini examines the sword’s magical properties. “I want to show you a magic trick!” he says to Afik, then grabs the sword and throws it across the room. The sword immediately reappears in Afik’s hand.

A returning sword! Hells yeah!

“That's great! Uh oh...” Afik says.

He drops the sword. It reappears in his hand. He puts the sword into his belt. It reappears in his hand. He cannot under any circumstance let go of the sword without it reappearing in his grip. He is permanently bound to the hilt of this never ending light source.

Never…

Ending…

Light…

“For my next trick… we will leave this room!” Klardini says, and everyone departs.

The adventurers head north and find a junction where the hall splits west and east. Klardini sends Hootini down the eastern hallway, and as the owl flutters around, it turns a corner and sees a ragged, pale-faced man with long, scraggly, black hair. Red eyes snap up at Hootini, and the man raises a crossbow, points, and fires.

Klardini’s vision with the owl ceases—Hootini has hooted its last hoot… until Klardini forks up 10 gp to summon him again.

The adventurers creep around the corner with Imp-a-Dimp leading the way, invisibly, and flyingly, and also expendably. Uther synchronizes his senses with the imp to scout the area where Hootini was killed—the creepy monster man is no longer there.

“Do you see the crossbow bolt?” Klardini says.

“Pick it up,” Uther says, looking down at it.

“I'm not picking it up, it might get stuck to me. Everything in here is like STD's or something!” Klardini complains.”

Imp-a-Dimp approaches a door and slowly pushes it open—inside is a room full of fanged, pale-faced humanoids all wielding weapons—they look up at the door, confused and agitated.

The imp closes the door, and the adventurers gather for a huddle. Vampire people? Maybe they can handle this.

“Do we have light?” Klardini says.

“We have my sword!” Afik says, reminding everyone that he’s now a walking beacon of light, so Uther isn’t nearly as unique anymore. Suck it, Uther!

“But we can’t throw the sword in,” Uther says. “It will just come back to us.”

Afik lights up with an idea—and a sword. “You can throw me!” he says with a smile.

Uther thinks for a bit. He likes this idea! Even better, Uther casts invisibility on Afik. Since neither Afik nor his gear can be seen, the light glowing from the sword will look disembodied—Afik is just a floating light now!

Afik kicks open the door to the room with the ghoul people and runs in, swinging his glowing sword around and lighting up the room. He makes spooky ghost noises as he tears shit up, clanking around with his armor and shouting to be gone!

“What the fuck!?” one of the pale-faced monster people shouts, and they all scram out of the room through a door in the north, shouting about ghosts or poltergeists or polterghosts or banshee nonsense.

With the room cleared, the other adventurers step in. The room is obviously lived in, based on the trash and random refuse on the stone floors. There are three stone plinths in the middle of the room, each one depicting three Waterdavian nobles at a 1:1 scale—each one is dressed in decorative plate armor. Lying at the base of the central statue are the bones of a long-dead hobgoblin and a white, wooden staf broken in half.

Klardini approaches the statues and sees that each one has a name plate at the bottom of the plinth. Each name plate has its original name scratched out and a new “name” written over it in goblin graffiti. The south statue, Elyndraun, is now “Smelly Bottom. The middle statue, Ruathyndar, is now “Stupid Skull.” The north statue, Onthalass, is now “Born Toothless.” Klardini notices that the middle statue is a handsome elf male, so he scribbles out the goblin graffiti and instead writes “Great Klardini” on it instead.

Just fixing things is all!

After they spelunk through the room, they take note of two other halls leading out—excluding the one they entered from. The north hall is blocked by a closed door—as many halls are—and it’s the hall that their foes fled through. The west hall is not blocked by a closed door—as many halls also are not—but what catches their attention is that another one of these vampire-looking people comes walking out of it, a crossbow at his hip.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Uther shouts at the man.

“Ah shit!” the man says through pointed teeth. “Um… I heard a lot of ruckus… I heard a lot of screamin’… I didn’t expect to see the lot of you here… also, what is that?” he says, pointing at Afik’s floating light.

“OoohoooOHOHOhoohohOHOHo!” Afik says. “I am a ghOSOsoosSOOSost!!?!”

“One of you guys owe me—” Klardini begins.

“I can’t understand you, sir, over the sound of your light,” the man says.

“One of you guys owes me an owl!” Klardini shouts.

The man pauses. “You came all the way down here for an owl?”

“No, I came all the way down here with an owl!” Klardini says.

“Who needs an owl—ah fuck!” the man says, his eyes widening as he clutches the crossbow.

Uther steps forth and puts his hands on his hips all fancy like. “Uh it’s starting to get a little crowded down here so you guys better get back to where you came from or Xanathar’s going to hear about this!” he demands, and rolls pretty dang well on his Deception check.

“… Wow,” Klardini says, backing away from Uther.

Two others emerge behind the sharp-toothed man with the crossbow. Both are pale with long hair—one stays further behind, watching curiously. The other steps forth—he’s much taller and broader than the others, his smile a wretched maw of fangs. His red eyes leer on the adventurers as he crosses his muscular arms.

“Who mentioned Xanathar?” the man grumbles, then looks at them. “So Xanathar hired some extra help?”

“Yeah and you guys just started attacking our owls,” Uther says.

“He’s gonna be pissed!” Klardini says.

“Klar—I mean, calm down, Fakename,” he says, holding Klardini back but not giving away his actual name.

The man raises an eyebrow and speaks, “What do you mean his owl got killed?”

“I’m going to have Mr. Fakename here explain it,” Uther says, stepping back and shoving Klardini forward.

Klardini shouts, “Somebody shot my owl! And he looked like one of y’all!”

“Was it this one?” the large man says and shoves forth the guy with the crossbow.

“Does he have a crossbow?” Klardini says.

“Yes,” the large man says.

“It might be him! It looks like him!” Klardini says.

The large man smirks, then draws a curved dagger from his belt. He plunges the dagger into the chest of his comrade with the crossbow, then shoves the dead corpse towards the adventurers.

“… It might be that other guy, too!” Afik says, invisibly.

“Tell Xanathar I’ve seen to this matter,” the man says.

“All right I guess it’s even,” Klardini says.

“What was your name?” Uther says. “I’ll let Xanathar know you did this.”

He crosses his arms. “I am Uktarl, leader of—”

“Wait, my name is Uktarl!” Uther says.

“Uktarl is a vampire name…” Uktarl mutters.

“Oh I’m sorry. I had a cold. I thought you said Uther,” he responds.

“You’re an angel of some kind,” Uktarl says.

“Um, yes, but, since… you know… just a temporary condition that I have,” Uther says.

“So… are you leaving?” Uktarl says.

“Not until we get what we came for,” Uther says.

“What did you come for?” Uktarl presses.

Uther turns to the adventurers. “Guys, what did we come for?” he whispers, then turns back to the vampire person. “Something to raise our Intelligence by at least one point!”

Uktarl turns to the quiet man behind him and says, “Riktus, what do you know of this?”

“I don’t know—let me see,” Riktus says, rummaging through his supplies. “It sounds like you came across one of Xanathar’s little pets—an intellect devourer?”

“It certainly devoured some intellect,” Mox agrees.

“You know, we can make that deal,” Riktus says, then leaves and returns with a vial that has a purple liquid in it. “Some of our own have fallen victim to such things. Our resistance to magic is strong, but Xanathar has eyes everywhere,” he says, chuckling. “You take this, and you have what you need.” He hands over the vial.

“OhoooHOoHOOHoho!” Afik says.

“All right—appreciate it Uktarl,” Uther says. “If you see us on the surface then give us a smile and a wink, but don’t tell anyone that we work for Xanathar—we’re kind of undercover.”

Uktarl smiles at them through a fanged grin. “Good to know. So… we’ll be seeing you.”

“Uh yeah you can go back to wherever you came from,” Uther says.

“ByyeEEyyeye!” Afik says.

Uktarl and Riktus back out of the room towards the western hall they emerged from. The adventurers immediately loot the body of the dead guy that Riktus stabbed, and as they search his belongings, they realize he’s not a real vampire—he’s wearing a disguise. They then go to the three statues and loot the decorative plate mail from them. They take the broken white staff and book it back to where they came from, but not before Klardini leaves a note on the dead “vampire” that says, “WE’LL BE BACK, VAMPIRES—THIS GUY NOS NOT A REAL VAMPIRE.”

They all hide at one point when they reach the room with the pillars—a large, stone golem of some kind, etched with rules, walking like a robot, saunters by in their field of view. As it passes, they creep back and return to the dungeon entrance, where they’re hoisted back up to the Yawning Portal.

Varian is sitting at a table with a bunch of drunk people. He blends in well. One of the barmaids, a redhead human woman named Bonnie, pats him on the head, believing him to be out cold. The adventurers shove the purple vial up to his mouth and make him drink.

Varian’s eyes flutter open. “Oh… oh, what was that? What happened?” he mumbles.

“We saved you!” Uther says.

“I hurt, and my mouth tastes of crayons,” Varian says, licking his lips.

“What flavor?” Klardini says.

“Purple?”

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