In the Halls of the Mad Mage (D&D; Undermountain)

[Rogue 9]

Waterdeep. Dawn, Eleint 30, Year of Risen Elfkin

The city shook.

Waterdeep was not accustomed to earthquakes, but here was one all the same. Little damage was done to the city's buildings; far more disturbing were the visions. Many people across the city fell to their knees as one, overwhelmed by a vision of a screaming bearded man, his eyes blazing with rage and sorrow. The visions quickly changed to rapidly shifting scenes of pillars cracking and tumbling, ceilings in dark rooms and caverns collapsing, and surging explosions of arcane energy and mighty magic. The visions came and went as rapidly as the earthquake, leaving those who had experienced them unharmed, but with a feeling of having just had overwhelming, unfocused arcane power crash through their bodies, and a feeling of strong despair, of something left unfinished - and swept away in ruin.

The bright dawn was soon marred in the city by the spreading news of a disaster: Many arcanists recognized the vision as Halaster Blackcloak. Something terrible had happened in the great halls of Undermountain.

[Comrade Tortoise]

The ground shook his bed, and knocked over the cup full of water he used for nighttime drinks in the small inn he was staying in, but the earthquake did not wake Elias from his slumber, as he was wrapp'ed in a vision of falling pillars, power, and sorrow...And Halaster, the Mad Mage of Undermountain. Something was wrong beneath Waterdeep, and some sort of Horned Medallion was somehow important in all of this....He was released from his vision with a start.

"What in the nine hells of Baator?" The little gnome muttered under his breath.

"Hopefully this was a one time event, Halaster is a madman... perhaps he is just messing with my head?" he said to no one in particular. Save for a small rustling animal in his pack.

"But why would he mess with my head? I am hardly special. Unless he is messing with a lot of people's heads... But to find that out I will have to wait until after Spells and Breakfast"


He got up and waddled, as he does, to his pack and pull out a book, sits on his bed, and starts memorizing sections.

He got to the last pages and took a deep breath staring intently at the page. Reading each line several times, mouthing the words to himself, and thinking of pneumonic devices to remember the wording. He was literally cramming the spell into his brain like trying to shut an overpacked suitcase. Finally, he closed the book with a sigh, and headed down for breakfast.

[LadyTevar]

Rauri NicIomhair would describe herself as one looking for adventure. Why else leave the Moonshae Isles for fabled Waterdeep, City of Wonders?

Oh, it made her Wonder alright; wonder why something this noisy, stinky, smelly and rotten was considered so fabulous. Soon as she'd gotten off the boat, she'd been nearly robbed three times. If she'd not kept her coinage in the backpack on her back, she'd have lost all her money. As it was, she'd had to replace her beltpouch. She was sure someone was cursing when he'd opened the heavy weight to find a whetstone, flint, and steel.

But a week in the city showed her the true wonders (those she could afford to see) of Waterdeep. Then the earthquake hit and people fell over screaming in the streets. It was the next day before word went around why: some mad wizard under the mountain had sent out horrible visions, and people were wondering why.

A few coppers to buy drinks for locals, and Rauri got to hear legends of UnderMountain and the Mad Mage below. Tales of treasures, of monsters, of those who went down and returned, and more of those who never came back at all. THIS was Adventure.

"Now... where might I be findin' a way inside?"

[Rogue 9]

A nearby bar patron laughed at the question. "Ye want th' Yawnin' Portal Inn," he said with a chuckle before taking a big slug out of the mug of ale in front of him. "I wouldna be goin' down by yerself, though; ye'd never see th' light o' day again." The dwarf shook his bearded head and turned back to his beer.

[Comrade Tortoise]

Elias climbed up onto a chair at a two-person table and waited for a serving wench to come by. A few minutes after he sat down, a young woman came by

"Hey sweety" she said to Elias, who smiles back at her

"Top of the morning, what is your name Lass?" he greeted her back

"Melinda" she replied

"Well Melinda, if I could trouble you for breakfast?"

"Of course, anything else?"

The Gnome pondered for a second. He knew there was a door to Undermountain, and thus a place he could obtain information in Waterdeep. He just didnt know where it was, it slipped his mind. Couldn't hurt to ask

"I am, in a sense, wondering where I might find the doorway into Undermountain in this city. The name of the place escapes me, or I must confess, I am new and may never have known it to begin with"

[Rogue 9]

Her smile faltered for just a moment before returning. "The entry well is in the Yawning Portal Inn, in Castle Ward. It's on Rainrun Street, just off Soothsayer's Way. Now, did you want the bacon or the ham?"

[Comrade Tortoise]

"I'll go with the ham" he said with a pleasant smile "And dont worry, I am pretty sure I am not crazy enough to actually go to my death in that place"

[LadyTevar]

Rauri gave the helpful dwarf a wide smile, and paid for another tankard for him. "Much obliged, sir," she said as she went to get packed and hit an alchemy shop like one of the speakers had suggested. 'Sunrods', he'd called them ... never go out like torches, last from dawn til night. It would be well worth the price if they lived up to the hype.

Within a candlemark, Rauri was walking into the Yawning Portal, her backpack on her pack loaded with the sunrods, rope, a strong grapple hook. Her battleaxe hung within reach, and a fancily painted leather-over-wood buckler hung from the backpack for now. The design on the buckler was decidedly Moonshaen, a hound or other 4 legged beastie twisted and knotted into a circle. With her light hair and eyes, it helped place her as from those distant Isles, halfway between the SwordCoast and EverMeet.

She looked over the patrons of the tavern with a large smile, and ordered a mild ale. She knew adventurers. Word would get around that the Yawning Portal was an entrance down. All she had to do was wait for a crew she thought would like a warrior's aid, and then the fun could begin.

[B4UTRUST]

Etvar sighed, grimaced and took another pull of his ale. It was watered down and tasted like luke-warm goblin piss. But it got one drunk, if one was inclined to drink enough of it. Generally, he wasn't. Tonight really didn't seem to be different in that regard. He never understood why his friends insisted on coming to these dives night after night. The tavern wenches weren't that attractive (or maybe you just had to be drunk enough...) and he was fairly certain that the drinks here were exported at exorbitant prices to the Watch for use as a torture method in interrogations. He had been in this city for a few months now and was finally start to settle in. Originally from Impiltur he had left there after the government had started cracking down on the undesireables of the country. Which, he had to admit, usually included him. He thought himself to be a generally good and well meaning person, he just didn't always agree with what the government did or how they did it. He had his way, they had their way. The government just happened to not usually approve of his way. But at least they had good ale. He could say that much. This stuff on the other hand...

He was sitting with his back to the wall (always to the wall, call it job induced paranoia...) at one of the roughly hewn round tables. Its surface was a injury just waiting to happen. Creases and cracks from various brawls and fights, scars from knives and other bladed instruments, indented surfaces from heavy blows and splinters ready to pierce your skin and agitate the hell out of you. This particular table vexed him currently due to its uneven standing. It had a tendency to tilt and move when you didn't want it to, causing your glass to slide or spill if you weren't careful.

He had his chair tilted back, leaning his shoulders against the wall, drink in one hand and listening to the banter of drunken sailors and wharf hands. The usual fare of drunks and louts were out in force, badgering the serving girl, arguing with the barkeep over the price of their drink and generally being their usual less than savory selves. Two of his friends were arguing over the validity of the rumors concerning a recent string of disappearances around the wharf but they always seemed to be talking about the latest scandalous gossip. Not that there was much other type of talk around here. Either everyone knew or nobody said a thing about it. Safer that way in some regards.

He was just about to take another sip when the building began to shake. His glass tilted this way and that as his chair threatened to topple over and put him on the ground. The end result was his formerly semi-clean shirt was now covered in cheap ale that would probably permanently stain it if it didn't eat a hole through it first. He righted himself before he was thrown to the ground. Glasses shattered as they struck the floors and bottles fell from behind the bar, spilling their contents in between the cracks in the wood. Several patrons fell to the floor, their eyes wide and staring at something only they could see and hear. Others were ducking beneath tables and covering their heads. Some ran for the doors. Others, mostly sailors it seemed, simply went with it, deftly moving their drinks as to not spill a drop, no more alarmed here then on the occassional rough seas that were their homes.

After a few moments the quake passed and the shaking subsided. Staff began to clean up the messes as new drinks were ordered and gotten. Some of those who had seen the visions picked themselves up off the floor. Several went to the bar to drown out whatever images invaded their minds while others left, some in quite a hurry. Whatever it was had startled them to be sure.

He looked down at his empty mug and then at the bar. He got up and made his way to it, stepping over broken crockery and puddles of booze. He set his mug down and prepared to order another round. As he got the bartenders attention to get him the drink he asked the man at the bar next to him, "I thought you didn't get earthquakes up here."
"We don't. Nor normally."

One man who had been struck by the visions was huddled over bottle at the bar, taking great drink after great drink of the harsh hard stuff as if trying to erase it from his mind. He kept muttering between drinks,
"Halaster... Blackcloak... Undermountain... Fire and Pain... The Undermountain collapsing..."

Etvar looked sideways at the man, trying to discern some meaning from his mad ramblings. Realizing he was not going to decipher this lunatic's utterings he resigned himself to the mystery. He sighed, realizing it was a waste tonight and left the bar to return to his friends. He motioned with his thumb over his shoulder towards the man and asked of them:
"What's the deal with him? Who's this Halaster guy he's muttering about and what's he got to do with Undermountain?"

[Rogue 9]

The taproom of the Yawning Portal was busy, even busier than usual. The room was dominated by the forty foot wide entrance well, surrounded by its waist-high rampart. A large man was operating a winch suspended over the well as Rauri walked in, cranking it back up. When he got the end of the rope to the top, Rauri could see that the bottom several feet held wooden poles tied through it as rungs, as well as wooden straps suitable for sitting in or holding onto. A large bucket was attached to a metal hook tied at the very end of the rope, which was as thick as a man's forearm.

A smiling waitress came over to take Rauri's order.

[Rogue 9]

The barkeep laughed at Etvar's question. "What's Halaster t' do with Undermountain? He's only the Mad Mage, master of it! I's can only hope he's got naught t' do with the quake, or it means nothin' good." He slid Etver a new drink.

One of Etvar's friends put a hand on his shoulder. "We'd best move along," Jarvis said quietly. "Finish that up if you like and let's get out of here; whatever that was, it wasn't normal."

[LadyTevar]

"I'll have a light ale, please." Rauri said to the serving wench. "T'is lookin' like a busy day you're havin'." Rauri commented, noting the wrinch and basket in the middle. "Many goin' down to see the Mad Mage everyones talkin' 'bout?"

[B4UTRUST]

Etvar nodded to the barkeep and dropped some coin for the drink and information. He picked up the drink when his friend came over to him. He looked over his shoulder and nodded, glancing back at the drink. He set it back down on the bar, wiping his hands off on his shirt. Passing on the drink was no big loss. And now with talk of mad mages that may or may not be involved with quakes and trouble he felt he probably should steel his resolve with a strong beverage. But he also knew that what he was served was anything but strong.

And, he reasoned to himself, he would probably need his wits about him. His friends had a tendency, it seemed, to know a lot of things that were going on, even when he hadn't heard it from others. He figured that being somewhat sober was probably the best course if they were taking him somewhere for something. Especially with an angry spellcaster involved. Those were never good. Hopefully they could give him some sort of answers though. It was times like this that he hated not knowing who and what things in this city were. He'd get there eventually, of course, but he was still to new, to fresh. He had the feeling that his friends occassionally had some fun at his expense because of that.

"I'm done," he stated to Jarvis. "Let's go..."

[Comrade Tortoise]

Melinda brought Elias his breakfast, which he positively wolfed down in a fashion unbeckoming one of his short stature. Once he was finished, he went back upstairs and started packing. He got all his stuff in his pack, not that there was much, and slung his crossbow over his side on one of its straps, then he headed downstairs. He did not think he was stupid enough to go in there to die... but he wouldnt know until he got there now would he?

About a candlemark after he started eating, he was in the Yawning Portal. The little gnome looked around for someone out of place..... That one. A woman with blond hair and an ornate buckler, sitting alone. She was waiting for someone, now the trick was seeing if she was waiting for someone in particular, or a more ambiguous someone.

He sauntered up to her and pulled himself once again, onto the human-sized chair opposite hers.

"I swear" he said pulling finally settling in "Sitting down in your human taverns is more trouble than it is worth... it is almost easier to stand"

"Waiting for someone in particular, or are you just waiting for an ambiguous someone?"

What she saw before her was obviously a gnome. He had a big nose, and stood a little bit under 4 feet tall, with black hair tied back in a ponytail, and a wide-brimmed hat. His eyes were a piercing green, and he reeked of spell components.

[LadyTevar]

The blonde was average height for a human, with piercing grey eyes set in a face far too intelligent for the average sell-sword. "I'm sure as they've more welcoming seating for one of your stature, sir," Rauri said politely, her voice and accent immediately marking her as not-Waterdehavian. "But you are right welcome to sit ... the tavern's a might crowded today."

Those grey eyes looked him over, taking it all in. Gnomes were said to love magic, and the faint scent of spices and other things tickling her nose made her wonder. "I'm thinkin' there's many whose wishin' ta see if the Mad Mage lives after the show this mornin," she added casually, sounding the gnome out. "They might be lookin' fer a hand or two."

[Rogue 9]

Jarvis led Etvar out into the street. "Here, back off, you," he snarled at a street urchin who had begun to stealthily reach for his belt pouch as they passed the door. The kid withdrew his hand and scampered away; Jarvis didn't seem inclined to follow. "Come on, we'll go to see Reggie. If what that guy back there was babbling about is really what he saw, then I think there'll be work to do before too long."

[Comrade Tortoise]

Yes. Elias was crazy.

"Hmmm... It is said that most of those who venture into Undermountain never return, and I am just crazy enough to be game for such things. And there is no telling what sort of magical delights one can find down there. Scrolls, tomes... even the odd spellbook from someone who bit the dust. To say nothing of what Halaster has cast aside. Yes, I am definitely game for such things. As for the seating... I have three choices. I can either clamber onto a normal chair, and just see over the table, I can sit in a gnome sized chair and not see over the table, or I can submit to the indignity of asking for a seat riser for a gnome chair..."

Elias decided, like usual, to be amazingly blunt

"I take it you are a sword-slinger then, or rather, an axe slinger, judging from the axe? My name is Elias, well met."

[B4UTRUST]

"Work?," inquired Etvar quietly as he and Jarvis walked.
"What sort of work are we talking about here?"

He was curious now. Jarvis hadn't steered him wrong yet and he trusted the man about as much as he trusted anyone here and he did seem like a fairly good person as they went. But alot of things about Jarvis were a bit... well vauge. But it wasn't his business and it didn't directly affect him. At least not to his knowledge. So he never questioned the odd comings and goings.

He peered back over his shoulder on occassion as they walked, keeping an eye out for people getting to close to them, either to listen in on their discussions or to try to pickpocket them like the street urchin had attempted. He didn't begrudge the kid the attempt. He himself had been there once and had dipped his hand into a few pouches that didn't belong to him. Sometimes thats what it took to survive in this world and he understood that. He just felt disappointed in the urchin because the kid had been seen. That was the cardnial rule. Don't get caught. Getting caught is stupid and stupid will get you killed. But he was also knew that people were less likely to go after a child then an adult. A poor child was forgiveable. A grown man or woman though, that was a different story in most peoples eyes. As a consequence it was often the case that lives of crime started at a young age. It was just the way of things, for better of worse.

Etvar let Jarvis lead him to Reggie. If he said there was work to do then that was a good thing. It meant some sort of action, at least. And it sure as hell beat sitting in those same taverns night after night drinking piss-ale.

[LadyTevar]

"Well met, Elias" she answered with a smile. "I am Rauri NicIomhair of Gwenyth, and I am a warrior the likes of which you have never seen."

One versed in knowledge would know Gwenyth was the largest isle of the Moonshaes and home to Corwell Town, seat of the High King. They would also find it telling that Rauri did not say she was from Corwell Town itself. Her boast, however, marked her well as one with a lot of pride in her skills.

[Comrade Tortoise]

"Well then my Dear Rauri NicIomhair of Gwenyth, I look forward to seeing what you can do in Undermountain. Especially because your skills could easily be the last thing I ever see" he said jovially, with a little wink. "Nothing against your skills as a warrior of course, more a statement as to the near-certainty of our doom. But, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I myself specialize in spells that make things explode, but have quite a number of other tricks up my sleeve."

with that he waved over a serving wench and asked for an ale.

[Rogue 9]

They didn't make it to Reggie. Instead, Reggie found them before they'd gotten halfway to the warehouse he managed.

"Jarvy," he said, falling into step next to him, causing the other man to start before settling down.

"By the gods, Reg, don't do that!"

"Sorry," Reggie answered, with an expression that clearly said he wasn't sorry at all. He looked over. "How you doin', Etvar?"

[General Havoc]

"The Lord Tyr is my shepherd. He lights my path amidst the darkness. He grants me strength for the trials I must face. He stands in judgment over my transgressions. He guides my hand as my hand guides the sword. May he grant me the wisdom to know his will, and the means by which I may carry it forward. Blessed be his name, amen."

Stewards were sweeping up the glass from the broken window panes, and several other petitioners and faithful were whispering prayers at various places around the chapel, but Eralis took no notice of them, any more than he had taken notice of the Earthquake itself. Earthquakes were unheard of in this part of the world, but he had been to places where they were not, and they did not disturb him, certainly not enough to disturb his prayers. A minor earthquake, after all, was not worth worrying about, and for a major one, there was no better place to be than here.

The others gave him a wide berth, which he appreciated, and he knelt before the altar, his sword held with the point on the floor and the hilt clenched against his forehead, his eyes closed as he fingered the holy symbol in his hands and repeated his prayer again and again, running the words over in his mind.

"The Lord Tyr is my shepherd..."

[LadyTevar]

"I know how to keep my allies alive, Elias the Tricky," Rauri answered in kind. "My axe will buy you plenty of time to cast your spells ... if you're willing to go down the hole with me."

[Rogue 9]

As Eralis finished his prayers, a Tyrran knight clad in chainmail and a white tabard bearing the warhammer-and-scales symbol of Tyr waited patiently several paces behind him.

[Comrade Tortoise]

"Oh, I am, and I appreciate it."

A few seconds later something started squirming in Elias' vest pocket

"ouch! Did you just bite me? Oh, you did... you little...well you are a weasel so calling you a weasel is a tad redundant"

"Rauri, this is Glockenspiel the Magnificent" The weasel bit him again, as if in annoyance at the name "My familiar. Glockenspiel, this is Rauri"

The little mustlid scampered across the table and sniffed at her.