The High Street

As the sky darkens into night and the waxing moon rises over the High Street, the last shopkeepers are closing up their boutiques and the temples blow their horns for evening prayers. Well-dressed people hurry past to return home, go to worship, or catch supper before a show. Birds find their roosts, and the bats emerge, clicking and chirping as they swoop overhead.



Findal leads the way down the wide, cobblestoned roads, past Temple Avenue, and you can see a set of buildings in the distance. The gnome points to one of them. "That's Tykus' tower! We're nearly there!" He hurries his pace, his shorter legs requiring two steps for each one of yours.

But just then, a quartet of Grayhaven guards with spears saunter down the street and wave at you to stop. The two humans and the half-elf guard sport the latest styles of mustaches as well as their Ducal uniforms, but the black dragonborn sergeant wearing the royal insignia does the talking. "It's pretty late to be out with children, isn't it?" The huge figure lumbers closer as the other guards spread out. The dragonborn towers over you all; it's clear that the sergeant is accustomed to others finding her bulk intimidating. "Ah, that's not a child, is it? A halfling, perhaps?" Findal looks down, trying to look as unobtrusive as possible. The reptilian muzzle swings around as the sergeant looks each of you over, moonlight glinting off of dark scales. "I don't think I recognize you lot. Not High Street residents, then?"



What do you want to do? You might try to trick them into thinking that you are residents (Deception), convince them that you do belong in High Street (Persuasion), try to get them to back down (Intimidation), use magic to convince/coerce them, make a break for it and try to outrun them, confront them, or any number of other things.

As soon as they're out of sight of the guards, the party hurries down several lanes and alleys, heading roughly northwest. Findal shares Morik's grin. After a few minutes, they slow down, and Findal puffs a little, not used to such exertion. "Thank you," the gnome reaches up to pat Eozindra's hand in gratitude, "That was very quick thinking. I'm glad you're with us." But despite his relief at escaping the guards, Findal seems shaken by the near escape, and looks around with a bit of confusion. "I...I seem to be a little turned around. Tykus' tower is over in that direction, but I'm not sure which streets to take, now."

There are still a few locals around, strolling down the High Street avenues. As they move down the streets, the party can catch glimpses of the skyline Findal pointed out earlier between the closer buildings. It's not immediately clear which way to go to get there (Elysia and Eozindra have generally avoided this swankier part of the city, for fear of running into anyone who might recognize them, so at best they have a passing familiarity).

Elowin and Morik can hear faint chanting in the distance, from a nearby block.

Anyone who wishes to find a route to Tykus' tower can roll an INT Investigation check.

Eozindra and Morik get their bearings first and lead the way down two intersecting alleys, which then lead out to an broader avenue that leads much more directly toward the buildings up on the ridgeline above you, Tykus' tower among them. The wide thoroughfare is open enough that the party is able to walk more quickly with good sightlines.

They then see a strange sight approaching them: a strange vehicle, a cross between a carriage and a palanquin, formed of interlocking, curved wooden panels lacquered in black and red. It looks a bit like a glossy, giant pillbug. It is being carried by half a dozen humanoid figures covered head-to-toe in red and black leather wrappings. A noble human courtier, bedecked in a cream suit with gold-buckled shoes, an ivory cane, and an impressive amount of lace, walks alongside the strange conveyance. The courtier looks at the party with a good deal of wariness.

Before the courtier can address the party, the distant shouts become clearer as a crowd of unruly citizens comes down the avenue behind the party, many of them holding flaming torches.
"Down with the dirt elves!"
"Send 'em back where they came from!"
"Filthy baby-stealers!"
"All Drow! Go Now!"
"Only Fire! Only fire can purify!"



The party is in-between the two groups: the courtier, the strange bearers and their strange vehicle on one side, the torch-bearing, frenzied mob on the other side. What do you do next?

Sorry I took so long with this post; I didn't realize how much time I'd need for the lore I was creating...
Findal looks back and forth between the two groups. "A lot of people despise drow because of the 'cursed elves' thing...the fact that they are necromancers doesn't help." Findal looks at the human courtier. "They must be here at someone's invitation..."

Everyone in the party has heard something about drow. The popular lore is that, in the dawn of time, all the elves lived together as one. But then the drow were cast down for their matriarch's crimes against Nature and Death, and they lived apart from the other elves, festering in resentment and darkness. Popular history has it that the drow long kept themselves apart from the other people of the world, maintaining a racially distinct society that has waged wars on other nations throughout history. They were either forced or chose to withdraw from the continent to settle in a distant land of fire, where they are free to practice their dark sorceries and necromancy. They're an easy scapegoat for all kinds of problems, a distant bogeyman that parents can use to frighten their children, confident that they'd never encounter a real drow person. It's astonishing to see evidence of drow in real life, much less seeing actual drow.

Each character may know a bit more; the attitude that you take in light of that knowledge is up to you.