#36: A Father Scorned

On the day before our planned departure, a skiff with two men arrives from upstream to the east.  The men were fisherman that had passed through earlier in the week and had moved on past Dagger’s Deep to seek out prime fishing spots upriver.  While fishing at night, with one of the fishermen on watch, they heard a sound like something getting ravaged or torn apart coming from the shore.  Unable to see that far with the light of their small lantern, they rowed slowly away from the disturbance towards the opposite shore.  Not more than 50 yards from the skiff, something splashed into the water and was coming quickly for their boat, so they started rowing frantically downriver.  At least once, they felt something under their boat jarring it, so they rowed in a panic and didn’t stop until they reached Dagger’s Deep. 

Perhegan is concerned over the revelation, but we explain that Dagger’s Deep is no more able to defend itself with him present than not, and that we can’t derail our plans every time there’s a potential threat.  If a town like Dagger’s Deep is to survive, it must weather these kinds of dangers.

The following morning, we set out for Mirabar.  Perhegan has allowed the use of a wagon to cart the scaled hide of the creature we killed beneath Dagger’s Deep and has plans to return with goods for the settlement’s use.  The first leg of our journey is uncontested, and we decide to camp early as opposed to pressing on with no good reason.

As we begin to set up for camp, we hear approaching traffic.  A pair of men on foot are walking next to a cart being pulled by a mule, piled high with hides.  Not feeling threatened, we hail the men and greet them.  The leader of the pair is a tanner, traveling with his brother from Mirabar to Xantharl’s Keep.  They are young, perhaps in their twenties, and don’t appear to be too well off.

“We’re just from Dagger’s Deep on our way to Mirabar, have you heard of it?” I ask the men.  They both nod, saying they’ve heard of “some goings-on up that way”, but nothing beyond that general recognition.  They ply their goods along this route three or four times during the season, typically having little to fear from robbers due to the mundane nature of their haul.  We invite them to share our camp and they accept gratefully, the night passing uneventfully.

When we wake up the next morning, we find Perhegan having a few quiet words with the men, likely trying to steer their trade towards Dagger’s Deep, our tanner having perished in the barbarian attack.  We part ways amicably and continue our trip towards Mirabar.  A few hours before sundown, we arrive at the gates of Mirabar, having made good time.  Perhegan announces our purpose, telling the guards that we are from Dagger’s Deep to buy goods, and they let us pass.

As the first order of business, Audric attempts to find a craftsman who would be willing to work the serpent’s hide.  Before long, we wind up at a stall called “Detrius’ Armory.”  It’s not a grand structure, but it contains a smithy, a large courtyard with several anvils worked by men covered in soot and grease, and a small building with a large hearth and fire.  Before they close shop for the day, we win an audience with Detrius himself.

Audric explains our burden and his intentions for the hide, and Detrius hops onto the wagon to inspect it.  He takes a good look at the hide, feeling several of the dried ends, a rather fetid stench emanating from the wagon.  Detrius takes it in stride, however, and seems impressed with the trophy.

“Is it a dragon’s hide?” he asks with a raised eyebrow. Audric explains that the creature was large and serpentine, but wingless so perhaps not a true dragon.  He listens intently.  “The scales are strong,” he remarks, and while he thinks it would take a fair effort, he believes we have enough material to craft a suit of mail.

As long as we level our expectations, he explains, knowing that much of the hide will be unusable or waste, he thinks he can craft a suit of armor, but that it will take all of the hide we have to find enough quality pieces to work into the armor.  He needs a few days to determine the labor cost and how long it might take.  Audric agrees to a modest fee for Detrius to assess the task, and we leave the hide with the craftsman and his apprentices.

We decide to pursue rooms at The Rusty Sword, as it’s an establishment that Zargon is familiar with, and start to realize how expensive this trip could be if we decide to stay too long.  Rooms are procured without much issue, Zargon trading a few performances to cover his own costs; lodging is scarce due to heavy trade traffic in Mirabar at the moment, but we find a set of rooms that suit our purposes well.  In the morning, we decide to head to the Undercity and meet with Arion to tell him of Corin’s fall.  After some discussion, we decide that as it was Selben’s initiative to seek out Arion and contract Corin’s services, he should be the one to deliver the ill news.

The entrance to the Undercity is familiar, but we can’t help but notice how eerily similar the construction of the dwarven tunnels are to those that lie beneath Dagger’s Deep.  When questioned by the guards at the Undercity entrance, Selben speaks up.

“We have business with Arion,” Selben states, his voice shaking a little.

We are granted passage to board the lift, and we are taken down below into the tunnels which lead eventually towards the Hall of All Fires.  One of the dwarven ushers accompanies us, and along the way, asks us why such a large group of outsiders would have business with one such as Arion.

“Our business is grave, and for Arion alone,” Selben responds flatly, putting an end to the line of questions.  The dwarf grunts, unsatisfied, but troubles us no more.  After several twists and turns, he stops again and states that we will have to leave our weapons if we’re to continue.

Zargon reminds us in a whisper that he can’t relinquish the magical pick, and we decide to split the group, not wanting to press the matter of Zargon’s apparent compulsion, and not wanting to start a riot over keeping weapons.  Selben, Audric and Perhegan decide to go forward while the others stay behind.  The dwarf grunts again, apparently satisfied, and we are allowed access to the Hall of All Fires, our escort remaining behind with the rest of our party.

After Selben, Audric and Perhegan depart, the usher turns towards me and the others.  “So you’re the allies of Thrur Dalgin?” he asks suspiciously.  Having not actually met Thrur, we all look at one another, and it’s actually Lom that answers.  “We’ve made his acquaintance,” and another practiced dwarven grunt is earned in response.

* * *

When we enter the Hall of All Fires, we are once again taken aback by the sheer massiveness of the underground structure.  Yet another dwarf asks our business, and upon providing Arion’s name, he leaves to go fetch him.  Arion arrives a short while later with grease in his beard, apparently having been in the middle of a meal when called.  “Pleased to make your acquaintance again,” he says in greeting.  “Have you returned with Corin Redbeard?”

My response is flat, emotionless.  “Our news is grim.  Corin Redbeard perished in the tunnels beneath Dagger’s Deep.”

Arion’s eyes go wide, the dwarf stuttering as if struggling to force out words, and asks, “How?”

I explain our breach of the tunnel entrance, our brief exploration and of Corin bravely leading our group into the dark tunnels beyond, and finally of our encounter with the serpent.  I tell the tale of Corin’s demise, having been struck down by the creature’s electric discharge.

Arion is taken aback, nearly speechless, and asks what proof we have.  Audric steps forward and produces Corin’s pouch, handing over what was taken from the dwarf’s body.

Arion examines the contents briefly, then turns to a dwarven runner.  “Tell Corenar Redbeard that his son is dead.”  The dwarf nods and leaves quickly back down the tunnel from which we entered the Hall of All Fires.  We wait in silence for whatever comes next.

“Wait here,” Arion instructs.  “You’ll have to answer to his father.”

Audric asks who Corenar might be—besides the obvious—and what standing Corenar might have among the dwarves of the Mirabaran Undercity.  Arion answers, “Will ‘stature’ matter when a father learns of his son’s death?”

I cringe a little at the statement, ruthlessly delivered, and an indeterminable amount of time passes as we wait in silence.  We can’t help but feel the scrutiny of other dwarves passing by who are curious at the activity we’ve stirred up.

* * *

A dwarven runner comes down the tunnel, passing us by quickly, and a short while later another party of dwarves returns, this one led by a particularly staunch dwarf with a brilliant crimson beard and hair, his resemblance to Corin obvious.  While anxious, I decide not to intervene on Selben’s behalf and let them pass unimpeded.

The dwarves are in conference as they march through the tunnel, before the lead dwarf, Corin’s father, cries out in pain and anger.  “My son is dead!  I demand to know who is responsible!”  The runner rapidly tries to explain the situation though we are able to overhear little before Corin’s father roars out, “Thrur Dalgin, blasphemer!  I’ll kill him!”  They rush past us, passions stoked to a frenzy.

While worrying, this kind of reaction was not necessarily unanticipated, so we let them pass, trusting Selben and Audric to handle matters within the Hall of All Fires.

* * *

“Dagger’s Deep bears full responsibility for Corin Redbeard,” Perhegan explains to an irate Corenar Redbeard, sharing details about the tunnel, the expedition, and ultimately his son’s death.

“How did you come to know Thrur Dalgin?” Corenar roars at the end of Perhegan’s explanation, the dwarf’s emotions obviously raw.

Audric steps forward, explaining his connection with Thrur through his faith in Mystra.  In response, Audric catches a face full of spit as Corenar rages, drawing up his axe in anger and pounding the head onto the ground.  “This goes deeper than blood and honor!” he calls out, rushing off with his contingent of dwarves deeper into the hall, presumably towards Thrur’s chamber.

Arion turns towards us gravely.  “I would advise that you leave the Undercity while you can,” he says.  “And that’s the last piece of advice I’ll offer you.”

Selben turns to Audric.  “We have accomplished what we came here to do, we should leave.”  Audric doesn’t seem so sure, hesitating, and I add, “If we don’t leave now, I’m going to get Zeb.”  I don’t know what else to do.

* * *

Selben, Audric and Perhegan return, escorted by Arion, and I breathe a sigh of relief.  While trusting Selben and Audric to handle matters, that hasn’t made waiting any less tense.

Audric explains his intention to remain in the Undercity and try and defuse the situation, feeling responsible for all that has occurred.  While I hate leaving a member of our group alone in such a foreign environment, I can tell from the set of Audric’s jaw that he intends to stay whether I agree with his plan or not.  “We will wait for you above,” I tell him, patting him on the shoulder.  Audric withdraws the ring, the bloodstone and his coin purse, passing it off to me, and we part ways.