Chapter 2: Trollskull Alley

A rich kenku is a rare sight, so Stitches draws a few stares in his ensemble. With no retainer accompanying the duo, though, they are soon ignored. He pays rapt attention to every note of the opera, drinking in the addition to his repertoire, a far more skillful performance than most he'd had the opportunity to memorize.

After Mirt's introduction, Stitches stretches the fingers of his right hand to get the blood back into them. He eyes the big man up and down before responding with a brief burst of painful cackling—a bit of his real name—and pointing to his chest.

He shifts to the gruff voice of Talulah, the tortle. "You said a friend in need directed you here. Who? And why?"

Prince has hardly been paying attention to what Davil has been saying, lost as he has been in the elf's beautiful green eyes and full, sensual lips. He recovers from biting his own lip and fixes the Zhent with a smoky stare. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Bonny flinch. There's trouble there. He'll have to deal with that later. "I agree, that is a very attractive offer. Of course, we'll have to discuss it with our associates. But I must admit it's very tempting to just give in right here and now!"

THE CITY MORGUE

---

The woman and the unseen translation continues.

"A Doomguide? I am Vajra - well, I guess that's not true. I am of Vajra Safahr, that is fair to say."

The young women sees you don't recognize the name.

"The Blackstaff? The High Wizard of Waterdeep? Girl, you are really new around these parts, aren't you? Anyway, you can think of me as one of her many twin sisters. So listen, if you want to take me up on this offer, come by Blackstaff Tower in the Castle Ward. We'll put you to work right away. We're especially interested in that Mindflayer Floon's been telling everyone about. Not many can say they've stared down a Mindflayer and lived to tell the tale."

THE CITY MORGUE

---

"Mindflayer? Which one of the humans was this mindflayer?" Alastriona asks. Her eyes widen, and she pulls out the blood-stained and folded paper from within her clothes. "This one? You are not the first to show interest in this human."

The aasimar tucks the paper away. "Whatever you said before is full of emptiness, and I dislike the way it makes you sound like a hawker selling sewer piss," Alastriona says bluntly. "However, you do have my attention. If working with you brings me closer to this human, I will visit you at your black tower."

She looks to Wynne, and nods.

THE LIGHTSINGER THEATRE

---

Mirt seems to love the sound of his own voice.

"Right down to business, that's how I like it. Alright, look. Our mutual friend sends her regrets, but she can't be personally meeting every adventurer in town that plays on our team. People would start thinking something's up! Me on the other hand, I meet with all sorts, from paupers to princes. Nobody would think twice of me paying a visit to the pair of you, especially in my own theatre!"

"As for the why, well, you must have impressed our mutual friend. So much so, she wants to recruit you. And we could use some extra hands. I have lived in this city for a long time, and I can tell when times are changing. Something is happening, and it's attracting a lot of attention - the wrong kind of attention. A lot of people have died already. I mean, so far it has been mostly the Zhent's people and Xanathar's people, but eventually, it's good people are going to start suffering. Floon and Renaer are proof enough of that."

"We've got a few missions that you'd be perfect for. Interested?"

THE ZHENTARIM MEETING

---

Butler nods in agreement as Prince talks "Yeah, afraid we can't talk for the rest of our group and I'm guessing you wouldn't want to take on half the group if the other half were off working for someone else"

THE ZENTARIM MEETING

---

Davil knows how beautiful he is, and he takes Prince's innuendos as merely a statement of that fact. He seems intent on keeping to business, however.

"By all means, share our offer with your compatriots. We'd prefer to have all of you, but if you can't come to a consensus we can find positions for those of you who have the wisdom to take us up on this generous offer. You'd have to sever ties with them permanently, as per our exclusivity contract of course.

Be careful out there."

With the tip of his hat, Davil Starsong takes his leave.

THE CITY MORGUE

---

The simulacrum laughs at Alastriona's blunt rebuke. "There are celestial words for 'sewer piss?' I never imagined there being plumbing on Mount Celestia. Really takes the sparkle out of the afterlife. We'll see you around, Alastriona."

She takes her leave, and Wynne looks at Alastriona, speechless.

THE ZHENTARIM MEETING

---

As Davil leaves Butler finishes the drink he bought them and stares hard at the direction he went. Without turning his head he speaks to Prince "That seemed like far too good an offer not to have serious hidden strings attached. On the plus side it definitely seems like we’re onto something if the Zhents are willing to throw that much at us"

THE CITY MORGUE

---

Alastriona watches the Vajra leave, then turns to Wynne. Studying the mask as though able to read the expression beneath, she explains with a shrug, "'Sewer piss' was spoken in Abyssal."

She covers her head with her shawl and continues, "I wish to return to the temple, unless there is something you need to do in this ward. Perhaps in the dray, you can tell me about these Grey-Handed?"

THE ZHENTARIM MEETING

---

"Hidden strings attached to hidden strings, no doubt," Prince replies, also staring in the direction Davil went, but for entirely different reasons. "And no doubt, our friends have been made similarly lavish offers by the other factions. Shall we head back to Trollskull then?"

Stitches stares greedily at the pin as Mirt takes it back. As the large man talks, he cocks his head, seeming to concentrate on listening. He thinks back to the gaping hole in his roof and the expensive repairs needed for the manor. Rubbing his fingers together, he makes the sound of clinking coins.

THE LIGHTSINGER THEATRE

---

Mirt looks at Stitches with a smile. "Clink clink indeed. Honestly, the Harpers don't pay. Their work depends on their members being "good" people wanting to do things for the "right reasons." It's a critical flaw, in my mind. But, there are a lot of people who are sympathetic to the Harpers and once you become a member in good standing, there are a fair number of places you flash you pin to get a good discount. Potions, gear, etc. As well as access to Remalia's armoury on an as-needed basis. I remember that stuff being pretty important to an adventurer at the start of their career, although I must say my memories of those years are pretty fuzzy."

"Oh that reminds me, Remalia said your people misplaced something?"

"As for gold, hard currency, I've been out of the moneylending business for some time now. For the life of me I don't know why I ever quit! Honestly, I'm missing it bad - the thrill of the hunt for that perfect investment, reaping the payout while others lament why didn't they see the potential. It's almost as thrilling as adventuring! The Caselanters filled that void pretty tightly when I dropped out of the game, but I'd be interested in making some investments again if the offer was good."

THE ZHENTARIM MEETING

---

Butler picks up whatever remains of the drink on the table and nods "Yeah lets, would be good to see what offers the others have been propositioned with"

Once Wynne regains her self, she tells you that you were speaking to one of the many faces of Vajra Safahr, the Blackstaff, which means the highest wizard of Waterdeep.

"I was not prepared for how brazenly you spoke to her. She is one of the most powerful mages in the whole wide circle of the world!"

On the ride back to the temple, she explains what she knows about Vajra Safahr. "Vajra Safahr is relatively new to this position, holding the Black Tower now for what now, maybe 10 years? It is known that her bloodline is that of the original Blackstaff going back many generations, but she was a controversial pick at the time. She is a sorcerer, not a wizard, so she makes a strange choice for High Wizard. Furthermore, her predecessor who appointed her was her lover, and so the rumours of whether she truly deserved it will always follow her.""

"Rumour has it she doesn't get along well with the Open Lord, Laeral Silverhand, though I don't know how true that is."

In response to asking about the Grey Hands, Wynne explains the following:

"The City Watch and the City Guard are excellent for keeping the day-to-day peace, but there are forces in the world that are well beyond them. The Grey Hands are a special unit of exceptional people, adventurers mostly, that are the first line of defence against such forces. Their elite unit is called Force Grey, and their ranks are drawn from The Grey Hands. Their storied history is well-recorded in this city. Both the Blackstaff commands The Grey Hands and Force Grey, and I believe it is a great honour to be selected for duty with them."

The dray draws near to the City of the Dead.

Stitches pulls the wrapped goggles out of a bag and tosses them to Mirt unceremoniously. He repeats the big man's word, "misplaced," and gives a shrug.

After scratching his chin for a moment, he begins pantomiming a story, sprinkling it with a few key phrases. He begins with Volo's admission back at the Yawning Portal that he has no funds, followed by the reveal of the deed to Trollskull Manor. The kenku motions unrolling a scroll, complete with the sound of heavy parchment.

He adds dripping water, howling wind, and the batter of broken shutters, shivering and rubbing his arms to show how cold it is inside, and the terrible state of the place. He follows with a litany of the necessary repairs from Tally, and quotes Prince's grand plans to host shows and a lounge.

Stitches finishes with Mirt's own voice. "That perfect investment, reaping the payout while others lament why didn't they see the potential." A final rub of his fingers and the sound of clinking coins completes his performance. He looks up at Mirt expectantly.

ALASTRIONA & WYNNE

---

"Thank you," says Alastriona, appreciating the information. "You have given me some considerations about these Force Grey Hands, and their place in Kelemvor's domain."

She steps off the dray once they've arrived at the City of the Dead. "Please give my regards to Sir Everdawn," she says with a nod, parting from Wynne with the respect due to the faithful. Alastriona makes a meditative journey back to Trollskull Manor.

Xelia carefully watches the interaction between Mirt and her compatriot as they discuss the meeting's agenda. She nods as Stitches returns the goggles. "It was a simple misunderstanding. Now, what is it one must do to be considered a Harper in good standing? Does one participate in several of these 'missions' you speak of? What more can you tell us of them?"

Alastriona eventually returns to the manor. If no one is home, she does not question the disappearance of anybody, trusting their actions as much as they've evidently trusted hers. She does, however, check on the goblins.

Whatever mischief the goblins might be undertaking, Alastriona tolerates so long as it does not negatively impact the building or the group. Should they cross the line, there will be severe reprimands that will include physical labor such as cleaning, gardening, or repairs.