Comments, Criticism, and Questions are highly appreciated. There's no D&D without a party.
Why?
As a rule, I am obligated to remind all prospective readers that this series will contain SPOILERS for any pre-written modules discussed within, in this case Dragon Heist. The subject of each post will be disclosed in the title as a forewarning to those who deign to gaze upon these texts.Performance Check is intended to be a journal of my Dungeon Mastering endeavors. I decided to begin this as a project to preserve the stories of my players and serve as a lens to inspect my own performance: where I can improve, what changes I've made to a module for a better experience, or how I've opted to jumble around the preexisting resources given to us by the fine artificers at Wizards of the Coast.
"The road to Easy Street goes through the sewer."
- John Madden
Finally. they were getting somewhere. With the nimblewright reduced to a heaping pile of bronze and steel and a map and a name, our adventurers were ready to start on their hunt. Their prey was one Fenerus Stormcastle, former highwayman living out his ill-gotten and sour twilight years as one of Waterdeep's many candle-lighters. Under the direction of Lady Gralhund, the nimblewright had delivered the Stone of Golorr into the hands of Mr. Stormcastle to be delivered to a mysterious man. Unbeknownst to the party, a bloody battle had taken place before their arrival at Stormcastle's townhouse, leaving most of the windows shattered, the furniture upturned, and sprays of foreign blood as part of the house's new interior design.
Upon arriving in the alley dwelling of Mr. Stormcastle, the party encountered a trio of adventurous urchins who bowled Rackman over in a stolen apple cart. Despite the incident, the party entreated the kids' dreams of adventure and swashbuckling, and offered them a free meal and place to sleep at the Trollskull Manor, with the most enticing opportunity to meet an actual real life adventurer.
With the urchins sent on their way, the party went about conducting their dirty sleuthing business. Gelman went about his investigative work, learning that The Xanathar's guild was one of the parties involved in the scuffle, as well as, possibly, the City Watch, and an unidentified third party. Hidden behind a false panel in the wall, Rackman found Stormcastle's old raiding gear, an enchanted Smoldering Armor and Dread Helm, used to intimidate victims of his banditry. As these two were conducting their respective investigations, those outside had a treat of their own.
A mysterious hooded figure appeared at the end of the alleyway. As it approached the party heard a beautiful voice, like a warm song during a biting winter. Beneath the hood was a gentle face with silver hair, sharp but soft features suggesting a tempered optimism coupled with a sharpened mind. As Gelman left the building, he immediately dropped to his knees and greeted the Open Lord as best he could.
"Lady Silverhand."
The Open Lord herself had arrived to make a request of the adventurers: to find Stormcastle, possibly save him from the Xanathar's Guild, but most importantly, retrieve the Stone. Supposedly both were being held in a nearby Xanathar sewer hideout. Gelman readily accepted. The other 5 warily accepted. After the Open Lord departed the parted decided that, as this was their best lead, they would pursue it. But, they would not give the stone to Silverhand, given Craven's selfishness, and Rackman's distrust of government authority.
The party found the entrance to the sewers easily, a maintenance shed into the main sewer line. They went down into the horrible autumn-time sludge of muck that was the Southern Ward sewers. Then they discovered a number of secret doors, thanks to Gelman's high perception. Behind one was a rancid nest of Troglodytes, which the party set about dispatching silently - until Nuala, bless her soul, opened door number 2.
She could have opened it quietly, and would have, if not for a wandering Gazer let out a deafening shriek, alerting every Xanathar's Guild member and every Troglodyte nearby. What ensued was a long, messy, and bloody close-quarters battle between a wild pack of Troglodytes. Luckily nobody was killed, but most were wounded and their resources were spent by the time the sewer den was rid of every Troglodyte and Xanathar's Guild thief. They rescued a Mr. Thorvin, the Xanathar's Guild Trap engineer and current mechanic on a mysterious flying Beholder contraption, and convinced him to turn tail against the Guild, in exchange for his safety. Among the bodies, Gimble found the Stone(?). A beautiful thing, a turquoise oval with lines of onyx, created with magic.
With their spoils, the party began to leave out the back. As they took their first steps back into the afternoon sun, everything went quiet. Another cloaked figure stood at the far end of the alley. "I will tell you this once. Give me the stone and you walk away with your lives."
The party tried to parley. Perhaps a discussion? A trade? Maybe barter for some more time to think?
"No. No discussions. The Stone or your lives."
Craven tried a spell. The man swiped it out of the air, like one would brush aside a cobweb. Rackman tried a diversion - throw a fake. The man was unfazed. As Nuala tried to reason with the man, knowing that she and her friends were spent and exhausted, but everyone had other ideas. The remaining 3 fled into the sewers, Nuala behind them, delayed, as she hefted a pack of powder she picked off the Drow she slew at the encroaching enemy. Unbeknownst to her, the powder pack was incendiary and immediately exploded upon the face of the enemy, a blast echoing and splitting the cold, quiet autumn air. The chase was on. The stone was finally in their hands, but they didn't know if they could hold it for long.
