4. The Friendly Arm Inn

Ida is exhausted from the amount of walking that the party has already done since leaving the temple of Lythander. She forgot how physical adventuring was and was surprised with how soft she had become in such a short few decades. Determined not to show any trace of weakness Ida looks around for a grouping of Flaming Fist soldiers to speak with about the potential of clearing out the bandit camp, and what they may know of Ajantis.

"I'm...going to find Bently," Stella says with tired eyes, taking Aldous' staff out of her pack. She had magically mended it back into one piece, but there were a few shards missing from lost splinters; they hadn't had time to search for and collect every sliver.

She pauses and looks around at the others for a moment, in case anyone offers to go with her, but she doesn't wait long.

Aiwë falls in immediately. "I'll come with you, he'll hopefully know where Jahiera is too." She looks to Dieter.

"Can you go talk to the Fist? Maybe take Sheemish with you for safety?"

"Sure, I can go talk to the Fists." Dieter says like it’s a great idea.

I need to start carrying a waiver around

Dieter waves sheemish over and heads to the group of Fists.

"Gentlemen, how has Helm been keeping you?" Dieter says addressing the group hoping he used that god they always mentioned correctly.

Ida overhearing Aiwë and Dieter appears behind the young human as he calls over the fists.

Stella and Aiwe easily find Bentley leaning on a counter (though the gnome has to stand on a stool to reach it) and surveying the common room. His brown eyes light up on seeing the pair, and he happily waves them over. "Greetings, friends! How have your travels been? I trust you haven't met any more assassins on the road..." He trails off as he takes in Stella's drained expression. "Oh dear. Please, have a seat, Miss Stella, and I'll see to it you've got a warm meal in no time."

Indeed, the gnome snaps his fingers and two steaming plate of bacon and mashed potatoes float from the kitchen straight to Stella and Aiwe, no doubt carried by an invisible servitor of some sort.

"No rush at all," Bentley murmurs. "When you're ready, tell me how I can help."

"As are we to you, these bandits have evaded the law for too long. how many men do you have stationed here?" Dieter asks returning the salute.

"Here at the Inn we've a half-dozen good soldiers." He can't hide the wince at his own report. "I'm afraid the Flaming Fist been more of a token presence here as of late; the Inn can care for itself well enough." The soldier squares his soldiers. "But we're fighting men and women, loyal to a fault, and itching for action. Point us where you want us, and we'll be there ready to end these cursed bandits."

"Fighting men and women, what greater love is there than to fight and die for your people. Put your forces on high alert and ready for travel, I expect we move on their encampment shortly.

Aiwë tilts her head at the food, encouraging Stella to eat.

"Unfortunately we are in a rush, Master Mirrorshade. Aldous Silvershield, son of Duke Silvershield, has been kidnapped. We were hoping you could help us find him, as you helped us with our friend once." Aiwë hands him the boy's cane. "This is his, left behind by his captors. Also, do you know if Jahiera and Khalid are still here?"

The officer nods curtly. "The Flame's a-burning." He gestures to one of the soldiers who ushered Dieter and Ida inside. "Tell the rest to be ready within the hour!"

Stella purses her lips and slowly tilts her head back and forth. "None, on the road, I suppose..."

At the offer of a meal, Stella gives Bently a weak smile and fishes out some coin to pay for a meal for her and the rest of her companions when they're ready. She stares dully at the food for a moment, wondering if she should explain the situation first, then eats after Aiwë's encouragement. The food was no substitute for sleep, but it tasted a comet's tail better than the trail rations of dry biscuits and jerky.

Bentley's eyes widen at news of the kidnapping. "This... this is most serious!" He rubs his hands on a cloth hanging from the counter and accepts the cane, then clears his throat a few times. He holds up a familiar glass marble and utters a divination spell, pupils disappearing from his eyes as he peers into the Weave.

"I see a young man, red-haired. The Silvershield boy... yes, he looks just like his father did at that age..." The little wizard continues his scrying. "He's inside somewhere, quite dim but for some apparent candlelight. He seems unhurt, aside from... By Garl's Own Cloak! When did he lose his leg? Hmm... He seems to be talking to someone, but it's difficult to make out. I-" The gnome shifts in surprise on his stool. "I think the boy can hear me! Aldous? Aldous Silvershield! Al-aaack!"

Bentley comes back to himself with a start, one hand going to his forehead as if in pain. He waves away any help. "Someone's just put a clever little countercharm on young Aldous. Bah! I should have been ready for such a trick." He absently picks at a few splinters from the wood of the cane before handing it back. "Further scrying will be impossible, I'm afraid. I wish I could have discovered more."

Stella lowers a spoonful of mashed potatoes from her mouth as Bently begins the spell. Bently knew Lord Silvershield personally? She was tempted to ask but didn't want to interrupt.

"Thank you for trying. Did you...see any floor, walls, or surfaces? Tent, building, cave? If they're using a candle...I wouldn't think a tent..." Her words come slowly as her mind struggles to process the situation. She quiets her voice. "Do you or...Gellana know of any sanctuaries of Shar nearby? We almost saved him...but a drow priestess of Shar swept him and his bodyguard—well, bodyguard-turned-captor—away with a Word of Recall."

Bentley takes a moment to tap his shaved chin. "Shar, you say?" Some of the nearer patrons, who had drawn close to see what Bentley's commotion was about, shudder at the name of the dark goddess and turn back to their own business. "Well, as a matter of fact, I do!" Unconcerned by the nearby patrons, Bentley begins to stroke his mustache. "Yes, there used to be a small town up north a little ways, just beyond the Wood of Sharp Teeth. Probably not on any maps these days... But anywho! Seems there was some Sharran cult business sprung up in the area a time ago. Twouldn't surprise me to find a shrine or temple of some sort was built there, though it would almost certainly be abandoned today."

Stella grimaces as Bently exclaims Shar's name. She looks around uncomfortably, her worry about spies rising. Was there anyone else watching with too much interest? Or maybe pretending not to watch?

She turns back to Bently and nods with his explanation. It was a lead! She wasn't sure how hopeful to be yet, but it was a lead! How far was that from the bandit camp?, she wondered, pulling open her tome with her map. "Where would you place it on this map?" She points to the inn and runs her finger along the road towards the Woods of Sharp Teeth. "Also, where are Jahiera and Khalid? As Aiwë said, we need to speak with them."

"There you are!" Khalid's smile is wide and genuine as he and Jaheira approach. The two half-elves' boots and cloaks are heavily caked with mud and dust, indicating that they've been out journeying themselves. "We meant to meet you in Nashkel, but were..." He trades an apprehensive look with his wife. "...delayed. With all the rumors flowing from that place, we're glad to have chanced upon you."

Khalid pulls out a chair at Stella's table for Jaheira to settle on, then seats himself and politely orders some breakfast for the two of them.

Jaheira's face is streaked with dirt and even some darker smears of blood, but even her grim face brightens at the sight of Aiwe and Stella. She leans forward in her chair. "Is it true the iron ore coming out of Nashkel was poisoned? And that your group put a stop to the ordeal, fighting through a horde of evil priests and their summoned demons?"

"That's...what I was afraid of...So now we have the Chill, Blacktalons, aaand a Cult of Shar all there." Stella bemoans. "Maybe that's another element we can use to destabilize things?" She smiles tiredly up at Bently. "Thank you for your help."

She pokes at her food, then takes another bite as Khalid and Jaheira approach. Chewing on some bacon, Stella gives them a weak smile and nods, then swallows.

It seemed her message didn't make it to them. Even though it was hidden with an illusion, she had instructed Noctalia to toss it in a fire if she couldn't find the contacts. At least now they could discuss with certainty.

"One evil priest of Cyric, and 'kobolds', not demons," she explains. "Though they might as well have been demons..." she scratches as her abdomen where a kobold's flaming arrow had shot her.

She and Aiwë start to fill them in on what happened with Mayor Ghastkill, the poison, the gnolls and Red Wizard, the job with Aldous Silvershield, the assassins in Beregost, Ajantis' betrayal of Aldous, their failed attempt to rescue him, and their current goals regarding taking down the multi-faceted mercenary camp (that may or may not also involve cultists now).

Dieter struts out of the Fist office relieved to have his Martial ability finally respected.

Fighting men and woman Dieter thought to himself he knew now that when engaged in mortal combat he wasn’t fighting his enemy but himself, his own weakness and desires. To be the best he would overcome his natural man, Combat was just comparing discipline and revealing your true nature.

Smelling food he realizes he’s hungry "we should eat, you’re probably wanting some real cooked food rather than travelling rations,Ida. I know I am.

Jaheira's frown deepens with each added detail of the Nashkel plot, but her half-elven eyes glitter as she takes in the information, her Harper's mind already sorting through the implications.

Khalid is no less eager for details, but he's a much better listener. He's appropriately surprised and impressed at Stella's retelling of the party's challenges and findings thus far.

(Insight: Each time Viconia is mentioned, though, the two Harpers adopt near-identical masks of emotionless disinterest. They know more about this drow than they're letting on at the moment.)

Jaheira shrugs at the mention of the Sharran cult. "Remember that when a gnome says something happened a long time ago, he speaks on a scale of centuries. The Harpers put down that Sharran cult two hundred years ago." She accepts Khalid's weathered hand as he places it over her own. "It's much more likely that this priestess of the Lady of Loss is a lone asset to whoever's pulling the strings on the Sword Coast."

At some point while Runeson's in the common room, Bentley Mirrorshade stops by his table to hand him an envelope. "Courier brought this by last week, said I'd hold onto it for you." The gnome proprietor reaches up to pat Runeson's shoulder in a friendly manner, then wanders off seeing to other customers.

The envelope has Runeson's name written on it. The handwriting is elegant and graceful.

Stella frowns and nods. Well that was a relief, at least. "What else do you know about this priestess?" Stella asks them, finishing up her mashed potatoes, purposely and clearly trying to adopt the uninterested look Jaheira and Khalid had donned.

She wasn't sure she wanted to mention how they had helped this drow escape the Fists. If anyone else wanted to bring it up, they could do so, she decided.

Khalid sighs at Stella's question, while Jaheira breathes out sharply through her nose. They exchange a glance, and then Jaheira speaks.

"Viconia DeVir was a friend of sorts once. Renegade drow who forsake the ways of their kin and come to the surface seeking sanctuary and acceptance are rare. Drizzt Do'Urden himself would be one on a very short list. Viconia is... not on that list. Not really. When she emerged from the Underdark, the Harpers kept tabs on her, as we do all such drow. At the time she was a cleric without a god, not knowing to whom she should dedicate her faith. She was bereft of all but the simplest cantrips. When she suffered at the hands of humans and other surface-dwellers, we intervened and offered aid, hoping that she might choose a beneficent surface deity to worship, or even Eilistraee, the goddess of redeemed drow."

Jaheira runs a hand through her hair. "But her time among her kin left dark stains on her heart, and she was unable to come to terms with any acceptable doctrine. That's when she turned her allegiance to Shar, to hide her deepest wounds and fears in the impenetrable darkness offered by the Lady of Loss." The druid's voice is tinged with bitterness. "She engaged in acts just as vile as those she'd left behind in the Underdark. We had to put a stop to her, and so we did. But when the time came for the killing blow..."

Khalid covers his face with a hand, hiding his eyes. Jaheira sighs and rubs a hand on his back. "Peace, Khalid. Compassion is one of the many traits I admire in you."

She turns back to Stella and Aiwe, her steel voice at odds a sharp contrast to the comforting tone she just used with Khalid. "Well. We wounded Viconia's ambition as much as anything. She fled the Sword Coast, and passed beyond our network of Harper eyes and ears. We'd heard nothing of her again until now."

Jaheira puts a hand firmly onto the tabletop as she looks into the eyes of each party member. "I can't tell you what you should do with her, should you come across her again... But be wary! She possesses great cunning, and is capable of even greater cruelty."

"I helped her escape Beregost," Aiwë sighs. "The guards couldn't tell me anything she had actually done wrong, so when we came across her, I distracted them so she could escape. What I should do next time is clear, and she knows it."

She looks between the two Harpers. "Whatever Viconia is up to with Lord Silvershield she's involved in the larger plot with the Iron Crisis, I'm certain. Even if not, his hours are numbered. Can you offer any other assistance before we leave?"

"W-we sent some of our agents to look into the assassins you met on the road out of Candlekeep." Khalid clears his throat. "Several of these allies have... disappeared. Which in our line of work means captured or... k-killed."

He absently tightens a strap on his vambrace. "All H-harpers know the risks. We stand r-ready to give our l-l-lives for the greater... good." The half-elf looks up. "I jus-just thought you'd like to be aware. Of their sacrifice, I mean."

Aiwë glances sideways at Stella, wondering how she will take the news.

"Thank you, Khalid, and my thanks to the Harpers. May Torm bring justice to their killers, if his mercy cannot bring them home." She drums twice on the table to seal her prayer, then stands.

"Perhaps we can be that mercy or justice. We need to follow the lead Master Mirrorshade gave us. Hopefully we will see you again in our way back through."

Aiwë was right. Helping Viconia was a joint effort and decision. And it seemed Jaheira saw compassion as a strength, not foolishness. Stella couldn't blame herself.

It still sickened her, though, to think about people getting captured and killed for looking into their assassins. She pokes at the remains of her food, and decides she's had her fill. She pushes her chair back and stands without a word, expression equal parts tired and distraught. Unlike Kreguuk, those Harpers likely wouldn't be found and brought back to life.

She nods politely at Jaheira and Khalid. "Thank you. I'm...going to find Ida and see Miss Mirrorshade about some potions and scrolls."

Ida nods "Properly cooked food sounds good. Hopefully, the others had success in the tasks that they set out to work on" Ida works her way to the inn with Deiter