Three adventurers wake up in the streets of Skyway and find themselves framed for a murder they did not commit. To prove their innocence, they must track down the real killer through the dark underbelly of the City of Towers.
Player Characters: Balkris, R. Sativus, Reckoner
I.
5 Lharvion, 998 YK
Skyway
Every month, the Tain Gala was held in Skyway at the fabulous estate of the ir’Tain family, one of the oldest and most powerful families in Sharn. Members of the Sharn Sixty, the greatest noble houses in the city, were invited to these events, along with the occasional local celebrity or adventurer invited to entertain the nobles.
Among the honored guests were members of the dragonmarked houses. Balkris d’Vadalis sometimes attended the Tain Gala, but the other guests gave him a wide berth ever since “the incident” that had occurred several years ago, when heated words between Balkris and a member of the Tain family led to fisticuffs in the grand ballroom. Lady Celyria ir’Tain, who organized the gala, insisted on inviting him back every month, perhaps to keep her subordinates in the family on their toes. However, Balkris did not attend this month’s event, and the other ir’Tains, apart from Lady Celyria, did not miss him.
Other dragonmarked nobles were in attendance this evening. One of them was Zorlan d’Cannith from Karrnath, the leader of one of the three rival factions of House Cannith. Cannith remained the only dragonmarked house whose leadership was divided after losing its patriach, the baron Starrin d’Cannith, along with all of its enclaves and forgeholds in Cyre on the Day of Mourning. Starrin’s son was with his father on that tragic day when Cyre was destroyed by a mysterious catatrophe, leaving no clear heir to take the mantle of leadership. Therefore, Cannith was split into three competing factions, each desiring to unite the house under its own banner: Cannith East led by Zorlan d’Cannith in Karrnath, Cannith West led by Lady Jorlanna d’Cannith in Aundair, and Cannith South led by Merrix d’Cannith in Breland. Since Jorlanna d’Cannith was plagued by a scandalous past, Zorlan and Merrix were the most obvious candidates for leadership.
Zorlan was the oldest of the three leaders. He was a shrewd and calculating businessman who commanded the respect of other noble families and even had the ear of the king of Karrnath. He was known to be prudent but also ruthless and pragmatic, qualities necessary for survival among the Karrnathi warlords.
Merrix was the youngest of the three and a gifted artificer. He had risen to become the baron of Cannith South by virtue of his talent as an inventor. But he made few public appearances and seemed more interested in creating new inventions than running a business. On the rare occasions when he appeared in public, he came across as a kooky scientist rather than the baron of a dragonmarked house.
Merrix had always refused invitations to the Tain Gala, preferring the privacy of his laboratory. However, on this particular evening he had accepted the invitation for the first time, perhaps as a courtesy to his visiting cousin Zorlan, or maybe out of curiosity for the peculiar guests that Zorlan had promised to bring to the Gala.
Zorlan d’Cannith had convinced the ir’Tains to extend invitations to several local adventurers whom he knew by reputation. One was a free Karrnathi warforged named Reckoner who had a peculiar head shaped like a dragonborn. The other was R. Sativus, a gnome from the Eldeen Reaches who was rumored to have knowledge of scandalous information regarding Merrix d’Cannith.
Everyone looked forward to the meeting between two rival leaders from House Cannith, expecting an explosive confrontation. But they were disappointed when the two Cannith cousins regarded each other only with formal politeness.
“Greetings, cousin. It has been a long time,” said Zorlan.
“W-Welcome to Sharn, Zorlan. I t-trust you had a s-safe voyage,” replied Merrix.
“Of course! I arrived by lightning rail in Terminus Station early this morning. But what is the matter with you? You seem positively jittery.”
“Oh, I am always like this. I’m merely tired from work. I spent the past few days in my l-laboratory conducting d-dangerous experiments.”
“Ah, dangerous you say! Perhaps they are dangerous by your standards, but you do not know what ‘dangerous’ means unless you have been to Karrnath!”
Zorlan had not seen his cousin in many years, but he had received reports of Merrix’s success in consolidating his position in Sharn. Now, he was puzzled that someone like Merrix could be the leader of Cannith South. Yet Zorlan sensed something hidden in his cousin, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Perhaps the façade of the nervous inventor was merely a diversion to put his rivals off their guard.
Whatever the truth might be, Zorlan could never entrust Merrix, or anyone else for that matter, with the leadership of his family and their legacy. Zorlan knew that he alone was fit to unite House Cannith, and he intended to do so at any cost.
“Ah, speaking of dangerous things, I h-hear you have some interesting warforged in your country. I w-would very much like to meet your Karrnathi warforged guest with the head of a dragonborn,” said Merrix.
However, both Merrix and Zorlan were disappointed when neither of Zorlan’s guests had appeared at the gala. They, along with Balkris d’Cannith, had woken up several blocks away and found themselves in the middle of the street with a dead body in their midst.
II.
The last thing that Balkris remembered was having tea with his companions and a professor at Morgrave University. A strange gas had filled the room and knocked everyone unconscious except for the professor. What was that professor’s name? Was it Moonsong, or Cindergrave, or Morveil? Balkris rarely kept track of people’s names, but now he suspected it might be important if he ever wished to return to the university to file a formal complaint.
As Balkris awoke and came to his senses, he saw two of his companions, the warforged Reckoner and the gnome R. Sativus. But the rest of their company were not present. Even his own retainers, Jarvis, Marvis, and Travis, were nowhere to be seen. Balkris grew alarmed at the prospect of carrying his own gear like a commoner. He was so busy pondering how ordinary people dealt with such menial, mundane tasks that he hardly noticed the dead body beside him which Reckoner and R. Sativus were already investigating.
The sound of a bell was heard, followed by footsteps. Across the long bridge lined with everbright streetlamps, a group of eight city watchmen led by a dwarf captain ran towards the adventurers.
“Halt! This is the Sharn Watch!” shouted the dwarf. “I order you to surrender yourselves in the name of the law!”
R. Sativus swiftly led the others away, and together they leaped off the side of the bridge.
III.
Upper Central Plateau
As they plummeted from Skyway, R. Sativus enchanted herself and her companions, causing them to float down as gently as falling feathers. Yet so great was the distance between Skyway and the uppermost part of the central plateau that the magic of the spell came to an end before they reached the street. The adventurers fell the rest of the way, but their fall was broken by two unlucky passersby, a priest of the Sovereign Host and a city guard, who wer engaged in conversation.
“Watchman Kavill, I tell you, the best way to earn the blessings of Kol Korran, the Sovereign of the Coin, is to make a donation in the church of the Sovereign Host. For each coin you give, you’ll surely get a hundred in return!”
“Alright, father. Please move along now. You know that you’re not supposed to be proselytizing in the middle of—Ahhh!”
Their conversation was cut short as they were crushed by the falling adventurers. Balkris dusted himself off and spoke in bewilderment.
“Lady gnome, please tell me why, for Siberys’s sake, are we running away from the Sharn Watch?”
“Because they clearly suspect us of murdering this poor individual,” said R. Sativus, pointing to Reckoner who had picked up the dead body and slung it over his shoulder just before leaping from the bridge in Skyway.
“Sir warforged, please explain why on Eberron did you bring that corpse with you?”
“I thought it might be important,” answered Reckoner plainly. “Miss Sativus and I saw a suspect fleeing from the scene. He was wearing a cowl, but I briefly saw his teeth. They looked jagged and pointy, moreso than your own.”
“He was carrying what appeared to be a weapon, but coated in black, and a bundle under his arm,” added R. Sativus. “This dead man appears to be a House Orien courier. The stab wound in his chest pierced his heart, and look at the severed strap we found with the body. This was a professional hit job, and the murderer took the courier’s bag. And it looks like we’re the patsies meant to take the fall for it.”
“This is not good at all,” said Balkris. “House Orien does not take threats to their business lightly. A dead courier and a missing package will no doubt lead to a full investigation. Did the Sharn Watch see either of you?”
“When the city guard arrived, I think they saw me,” said Reckoner.
“Then we’re in trouble,” said Balkris. “How many warforged are there with a head like yours, Reckoner? When they start looking for a warforged with a dragonborn head, it will only be a matter of time before they find us.”
“Then we must clear our names,” Reckoner insisted.
“First, we need to deal with this watchman. He’s beginning to stir,” said R. Sativus.
“Oh, what in Khyber just fell on me?” said the city guard, picking himself up painfully. When he saw the three adventurers and the dead body that Reckoner was carrying, he grew alarmed.
“Greetings, officer. This man on my shoulder is my friend, and he has imbibed too much alcohol,” said Reckoner. His attempt to deceive the city guard was foiled by the blood that dripped down his arm and shoulder from the dead man’s wound.
“Warforged, did you just lie to an officer of the Sharn Watch?” said the city guard, horrified and bewildered.
“Why, yes. Is it working?” asked Reckoner.
Balkris interrupted and tried to calm the watchman by offering an explanation. This gave R. Sativus a chance to sneak up behind the guard and knock him unconscious. But the watchman proved to be too strong for her tiny fists.
“Ouch! What did you do that for? You are assaulting an officer of the law!” cried the city guard.
“Are we hitting this man with our fists? I’m not sure if that is okay, but I will follow along,” said Reckoner. He began to beat the man with his metal fists, but now the watchman was fully alert and had raised his shield to defend himself from Reckoner’s heavy blows.
“Somebody, help me! I need backup! I need—”
Balkris grew frustrated and knocked out the guard with a single sure blow with his fist. However, the guard had already raised the alarm. The adventurers heard running feet and the voices of the Sharn Watch coming around the corner. Reckoner grabbed the unconscious city guard with his free hand and threw him over his other shoulder. Once more, R. Sativus led the company and together they leaped off a nearby bridge.
IV.
Middle Central Plateau
During their descent, the heroes saw a family taking an evening stroll over a bridge in Middle Central Plateau. A small child had broken away from his parents and climbed to the top of the railing.
“Look, mommy! I’m an acrobat! I’m so high up, I feel like I’m flying. I feel—Eeek!”
The boy lost his balance and began to fall. Balkris caught him and landed gently with the small boy in his arms.
The frightened boy was thankful to the nobleman who saved his life. But he was shocked by the sight of the two bodies on Reckoner’s shoulders, one of which was still bleeding all over the warforged. The boy began to ask some uncomfortable questions.
“Umm, my lord, I’m very grateful, but why is that warforged carrying those bodies? Is that man dead? And is that other man a city guard? Is he okay? Aren’t city guards the good guys? Are you the baddies?”
“What a vivid imagination!” cried R. Sativus, trying to distract the boy. “My child, you certain have a curious streak. I applaud you for it! If you truly want to fly someday, you must exercise your imagination to its fullest. Maybe someday, you can become a magewright, or even a proper wizard!”
The boy’s eyes grew as the gnome wizard filled his imagination with dreams of becoming a real mage. Soon, the boy’s parents descended from the bridge in search of their child. Reckoner and R. Sativus hid in a side street while Balkris remained with the boy to return him to his parents.
“Oh, my poor boy! Thank you, my lord, for saving our child!” said the boy’s mother.
“Mommy, you’ll never believe what I saw!” the boy began to say. “I saw a gnome and a warforged with a dragonborn head, and the warforged was carrying two bodies, and one of them was a city guard, and…”
“The trouble with our youth is their imagination,” said Balkris. “You have to nip it in the bud so they can become productive members of society. Otherwise, they’ll get all sorts of wild ideas in their heads. Why, your son might even want to learn magic someday and become a magewright, or Sovereigns forbid, a wizard! You folks in the lower parts of the city need to teach your offspring proper behavior and curb their imagination.”
“What did you just say, sir? Did you say the ‘lower parts’ of the city?” bellowed the boy’s father, his temper flaring. Balkris’ words had clearly rankled the man who thought himself above such insults. The boy’s mother saw the barely suppressed rage between the two men. She quickly thanked Balkris and led her family away.
When the family had gone, the adventurers debated what to do with the unconscious city guard and the dead courier. If Reckoner had been identified, the Sharn Watch and House Orien would eventually find him. Reckoner and those who were with him would not be safe anywhere in Sharn. Their only choice was to find the real perpetrator of the crime and prove their own innocence.
The adventurers left the unconscious city guard in the shadows of a dark alley where he would not be soon discovered. Several blocks away in another part of the district, they dumped the dead body of the courier. They hoped that the Sharn Watch would find the body and connect it to the scene of the crime in Skyway, so that when they found the real murderer and the murder weapon there would be enough evidence to clear their names.
“But how will we find the killer?” Balkris wondered.
“We can start by learning about the victim. And I know just the place,” said R. Sativus, producing a small round chip and a personal ID. She had founded them on the body of the courier just before they had abandoned it. The ID identified the man as Tars Graccen, a House Orien courier. As she hid the chip under a loose cobblestone, R. Sativus explained that it was a token for one free beer at a tavern called the Raw’s Paw, located in the Callestan district of Lower Dura.
“Callestan, you say? Then that is where we shall go. Jarvis, hail a skycoach for me,” said Balkris before he remembered that Jarvis and his other retainers were absent.
V.
Lower Dura
The skycoach dropped off Balkris, R. Sativus, and Reckoner several blocks away from Callestan, refusing to go any closer to the infamous district. Balkris wondered what all the fuss was about when R. Sativus began to explain.
“Now, listen to me. One does not simply walk into Callestan,” said the gnome. She explained that Callestan was the most dangerous place in the city. If she was alone, she could vanish into the shadows, but that would be impossible with her two highly conspicuous companions – a nobleman from the Upper City and a unique, easily identifiable warforged.
There was little light in Lower Dura, a district of failing everbright streetlamps and broken cobblestones. Callestan was the worst of a bad neighborhood. The light of the twelve moons did not reach the slums in this district. The only light came from the occasional bonfires around which the poor and the homeless huddled together for warmth.
Balkris looked around and surveyed the abject poverty. He had never been to this part of Sharn before, and it amazed him that such a district could exist in his magnificent city. Then he spotted a group of gangsters in the side street – a dwarf, a gnome, a halfling, a goblin, and a human. Balkris’ eyes met the gaze of the dwarf. She was broad and muscular, with a full but ragged beard. She seemed to be glaring at the nobleman, and perhaps even growling.
“You there! What are you staring at?” Balkris shouted, much to the alarm of R. Sativus who wished to keep a low profile.
The dwarf took a step forward, but the halfling woman beside her tapped her shoulder, shaking her head. The halfling led the rest of the gang away from the adventurers and vanished into the darkness.
“They’re a local gang called the Callestan Clash,” explained R. Sativus. “They’re known for holding street fights and games of chance. We don’t have time to deal with them. Let’s keep moving.”
The Rat’s Paw was a decrepit tavern whose wooden boards had seen better days. The three adventurers sat at the bar and nursed lukewarm beers served in dirty mugs. R. Sativus tried to quietly asked the barkeep about the victim, but Balkris interrupted and blurted out a series of indiscreet questions.
“Excuse me, bartender! Do you happen to know a courier from House Orien named Tars Graccen? I believe he visited this establishment.”
“Never heard of him,” said the barkeep. R. Sativus guessed this was not true. She looked around to see if anyone else was listening.
There were only two other groups of customers in the room. One was a group of locals who left soon after the adventurers arrived. The other was a group of five halflings. After Balkris loudly asked his question, the halflings began to stare wordlessly at the adventurers.
R. Sativus quietly offered the barkeep a reward for his cooperation. They discreetly met out back in front of the latrine. The gnome learned from the barkeep that Tars the courier was a regular at the Rat’s Paw, as were the halflings in the other table. The halflings were members of the Boromar Clan to whom the barkeep gave protection money. A few nights ago, Tars was in the bar when the halflings surrounded him and offered him free drinks. They got him drunk and began to pump him for information regarding his upcoming delivery. It was clear that the halflings were interested in Tars’ package, but Tars did his best to keep quiet about his package and route.
Having learned all that she could, R. Sativus returned to the bar. She was dismayed to find Balkris and Reckoner standing in front of the table of halflings, ready to start a barfight. Still more alarmingly, there were only four halflings at the table. R. Sativus sent her rat out back, and there the rat saw the fifth halfling talking to the barkeep.
Swiftly, the gnome led her companions out of the bar. Balkris was the last to leave, and he heard the halflings speaking to each other when they thought the adventurers were out of earshot.
“Go tell Big Mondo…”
Balkris recognized Big Mondo as an entrepreneur and an owner of a series of successful restaurants serving traditional halfling cuisines from the Talenta Plains. R. Sativus explained that Big Mondo was not just a restauranteur but also a captain of the Boromar Clan and the local mob boss in Callestan. If the Boromars were involved in Tars Graccen’s death and Big Mondo learned of the party’s investigation, it would not be long before the Boromars came after them. Time was running out.
“Friends, I have a contact we can talk to,” said R. Sativus, leading the way through the streets. “His name is Blue Aust. I think he can help us.”
VI.
Blue Aust was an half elf and an information broker in Callestan. The adventurers met him in his bolt hole among the slums of the district. He was an oily crook with a snake-like voice who liked to speak in cryptic riddles and proverbs.
“So, Blue, what can you tell us about a dead courier in Skyway, a missing package, and the Boromars?”
“Oh, poor Miss Sativus. I’m sorry to hear you are involved in that sordid affair. And poor old Tars. Just like Little Red Riding Cloak carrying a basket to Grandmother’s House, only to find a big scary lycanthrope in the old lady’s clothes.”
“Enough with the fairy tales, Blue. We came here for information.”
“Ah, but this is not a fairy tale. It is the truth of the world. We are all a wolf or a little red riding cloak, aren’t we? Sometimes, we might be one or the other. After all, the wolf is merely driven by hunger and the need for survival.”
“I am a warforged. I do not hunger, so by your logic, I am never a wolf,” said Reckoner.
At that, Blue Aust threw his head back and laughed.
“Ha! I suppose you are right. The poor warforged have the worst lot of us all. None of them ever chose, did they? They feel no hunger, malice, or mercy. Perhaps the most merciless killers among us are the only true little red riding cloaks.”
Blue Aust, feeling self-satisfied, told the adventurers what they wished to know. He knew the man who had killed Tars Graccen. The culprit was a shifter hitman named Yeq the Grin. He worked for the Boromars, but his most recent job – the one he had just performed tonight – had gotten him in over his head. He had killed the courier and stolen his package, which he promptly handed over to the Boromar Clan. But now, certain parties were looking for him, and he was probably on his way out of the city.
Yeq had a bolt hole in the district of Fallen, not far from Callestan. Perhaps the adventurers might find clues to his whereabouts there, Blue suggested. The only other option was to speak with Yeq’s employer, Big Mondo of the Boromar Clan. The adventurers did not want to deal with Big Mondo just yet, so they headed to the slums where Yeq’s hideout was located.
VII.
Fallen, Lower Dura
The derelict tenement tower where Yeq had his bolt hole looked more like a storage complex than a place where people might live. The door to Yeq’s apartment, whose number they received from Blue Aust, was guarded by a flimsy lock. Reckoner easily broke down the door with his fist. When the door fell down, a swinging blade swung down from the ceiling and struck the warforged, but the rusty blade did little more than knick his armored chest plate.
“Be careful, friends. I believe this place is booby-trapped,” said the warforged matter-of-factly.
The inside of the apartment was a filthy mess. The adventurers guessed that the place had been turned upside down when Yeq made a hasty departure, and perhaps by others who came to investigate. Balkris was dumbfounded by the notion that anyone could live in such a place.
R. Sativus found a vial containing a black mixture soot and ash – a concoction known as bladeblack which was used to conceal the glint of a metal weapon. Reckoner poked at the remains of a small cooking fire where he found a half-burnt slip of paper. When he showed it to the others, Balkris immediately recognized it as a lightning rail ticket. It was for a train headed to Wroat, the capital of Breland, which departed this very evening from Terminus Station!
“Yeq the Grin is going to Terminus Station! Let’s get over there before the train leaves the city!”
The adventurers rushed out to the street, only to be confronted by a group of halfling thugs. They were members of the Boromar Clan. The leader had a spiked mohawk that glowed like crystals. Balkris sensed a strange psionic aura about him, not like a Kalashtar but different and darker.
“You three had best step off yer investigatin’ and come wit me. Big Mondo wants a word wit ya,” said the leader of the gang. The others were tribal warriors from the Talenta Plains who spoke in their own halfling dialect.
The heroes, seeing that they were outnumbered, followed the gang.
VIII.
Middle Dura
The adventurers were led to a quiet restaurant in Middle Dura frequented by gnome and halflings. Inside, the restaurant was empty except for a single table laden with traditional food from the Talenta Plains. At the table, a halfling sat alone attended by a pair of henchmen. The seated halfling had a black tuxedo, slicked back hair, and a slight bulge in his stomach. He introduced himself as Big Mondo and invited the adventurers to join him for dinner.
“My friends, please dine with me. It would upset me greatly if you did not join me in masticating upon this sumptuous meal.”
“I do not masticate,” said Reckoner.
Big Mondo stared at him and repeated his statement.
“It would upset me if you did not eat your food. EAT.”
Reckoner aped his friends and shoveled a big forkful of pasta and meal sauce into his mouth plate. Big Mondo seemed satisfied and drifted into a rambling conversation, mostly with himself.
It soon became obvious to the adventurers that Big Mondo was stalling for time. He claimed that Yeq the Grin had been in his employ but had not worked for him for some time. R. Sativus guessed that this was a lie, but humored the halfling, fearing to incur the wrath of Big Mondo on his own turf. Reckoner, however, was not as adept at conversational discretion.
“I am curious, Big Mondo. Why do they call you that when you are a halfling and not a very tall one?” asked Reckoner.
Big Mondo stared long at the warforged before finally speaking to the others.
“Did that warforged just make a height joke about me?”
“It was not a joke, merely an observation,” said Reckoner.
The jaws of Big Mondo and his henchmen dropped. No one spoke for several minutes. In the intervening silence, R. Sativus and Balkris quietly crept out of the restaurant. Reckoner remained and stared back at Big Mondo for several minutes before he finally stood up and joined his companions outside. Big Mondo continued to stare wordlessly as the warforged went out the door. He did not notice the rat that had scurried out of R. Sativus’ pocket and remained in the restaurant.
“Skycoach!” shouted Balkris. When the skycoach landed, the adventurers asked the driver to take them to Terminus Station in Lower Tavick’s Landing. As the skycoach made its way across the city, the heroes took a rest in preparation for their inevitable confrontation.
IX.
Lower Dura
“Where are we? Are we back in Lower Dura? Driver, what is the meaning of this?”
Balkris was furious when he found himself in a derelict district rather than the lightning rail station. The adventurers were back in Callestan in Lower Dura.
“I’m sorry, sir. The Boromars ordered me to fly you around the city and bring you over here. I had no choice,” said the skycoach driver, apologetically.
Outside the skycoach, the mohawked halfling and his gang were waiting for them.
This time, Balkris was not interested in having a conversation. He drew his rapier and lunged at the halfling, skewering him with his blade. The halfling grinned widely as he grew to an enormous size and two shimmering blades of psionic force were conjured in his clenched fists.
Reckoner joined Balkris with his warhammer, while R. Sativus hid behind the skycoach, which soon lifted off and flew away, depriving the gnome of her cover. The halfling warriors, drawing their spears and hatchets, surrounded Balkris and Reckoner. The nobleman and the warforged fought back to back against the halflings while R. Sativus sniped at the thugs with her magic bolts of fire from a distance. The mohawked halfling swung his psionic blades at Balkris, but Balkris plunged his rapier into the halfling’s gut once again and twisted it. The psionic blades flickered and vanished inches from Balkris’ neck as the enlarged halfling shuddered and collapsed. Reckoner and R. Sativus made quick work of the other halflings, killing all but one of them who escaped into the night.
When the street battle had ended, R. Sativus hailed another skycoach, one that was not paid for by the Boromars, and the adventurers headed to Terminus Station.
X.
Lower Tavick’s Landing
The enormous lightning rail station was bustling with traffic, even at this late hour. Families going on a trip, businessmen and diplomats coming and going, all manner of people could be seen in the main concourse of the terminal. The adventurers had arrived with a few minutes to spare before the train bound for Wroat departed from the station. They quickly spread out to search for their quarry.
R. Sativus saw a cloaked figure having a large crate from the loading dock placed on the train bound for Wroat with the help of a handler. The man wore a cowl over his head, but as he struggled with the crate the cowl fell back momentarily. R. Sativus saw a dark-haired face grimacing with the effort, and a mouth full of sharp, jagged teeth.
“Friends, I have found Yeq the Grin,” R. Sativus reported to the others.
The adventurers bought tickets for the train bound for Wroat. They enlisted the help of two terminal guards after Balkris convinced them they were private investigators tracking a criminal who was on board the train. Together, they surrounded the four exits on Yeq’s passenger car which was adjacent to the storage car. The guards entered first and told the other passengers to move to the next forward car. All of the passengers had left, but a lone figure in the back remained seated.
When the other passengers were gone, Balkris and Reckoner entered from either side of the car and approached Yeq.
“We have been looking for you, Yeq the Grin,” said Reckoner, matter of factly.
Yeq looked up at Reckoner and grinned with his jagged teeth.
“I was wundrin’ when someone would come fer me,” said the shifter. “But y’all took yer sweet time gettin’ the other passengers to safety. Plenty of time fer me to call up my little friend.”
The door to the storage car exploded in a shower of wood and metal fragments. A large mechanical centipede with large vicious claws, standing taller than Reckoner, burst into the passenger car. Behind it, the crate that Yeq had loaded onto train was broken open from the inside.
Reckoner and Balkris attacked the shifter with their warhammer and rapier. Their weapons found their mark and left him bloodied. As the blood soaked through his cloak, Yeq looked at his red clock with a crazed expression as if a madness had taken hold of him.
“Looks like I’m Little Red Riding Cloak now. Guess that means you fellas are the wolves.”
Yeq stabbed at Reckoner and Balkris with his strangely shaped blade covered in bladeblack. He was vicious as a cornered beast, but his blade was blocked by their armor and shields. Seeing that he was at a disadvantage, he leapt up onto his seat and whistled at his mechanical centipede. The machine dug its claws into the floor and a surge of electricity flowed out from it, shocking Reckoner and Balkris whose feet were on the ground. Reckoner felt his metal plates heat up and burst before he collapsed, smoking on the floor. Yeq might have escaped through the door behind the fallen Reckoner, but fiery bolts from R. Sativus’ outstretched finger seared across the room and blasted the shifter, dropping him dead.
The mechanical centipede, no longer being commanded by his master, was now on a rampage. Balkris held it back but was soon overcome by it. The machine might have escaped and threatened the people in the terminal if not for a brave terminal guard who revived Reckoner with a potion of healing. As Reckoner stood, he swung his warhammer at the horrid machine, beating upon its broken metal body until it ceased moving.
The adventurers had prevailed and found the murderer of the courier. They turned over their evidence to the Sharn Watch and cleared any suspicions held against them. House Orien was grateful to the adventurers for finding the perpetrator of the crime against their courier, but they were still concerned about the stolen package. For his part, Balkris did all that he could to cooperate with House Orien’s investigation, but he did so in order to cast suspicion upon Big Mondo and the Boromar Clan.
Several days later, R. Sativus’ rat familiar returned from Big Mondo’s restaurant. Being a hungry rat, it had scurried into the kitchen in search of food. There it found a large store of ingredients that were being shipped out to another part of the city. Evidently, the halflings were preparing to cater a large event in the near future, perhaps a grand ball for the Boromar Clan.
What were the Boromars up to? Where was the stolen House Orien package? What was in the package that was valuable enough to kill for?
Was Yeq the Grin just a hungry killer, or was he Little Red Riding Cloak bringing a basket to the real wolf?
Murder in Skyway
Rewards
4 Achievement Points
4 Treasure Points
10 Downtime Days
1 Renown Point
Magic Item Unlock
You have unlocked the following magic item, which can be purchased for 16 treasure checkpoints.
Insignia of Claws
Wondrous item, uncommon, Tier 1
While wearing this insignia, you gain a +1 bonus to the attack and the damage rolls you make with unarmed strikes and natural weapons. Such attacks are considered magical. This insignia depicts a furry paw with extended claws. While wearing it the bearer suffers no harm from temperatures as cold as -20 degrees Fahrenheit or as warm as 120 degrees Fahrenheit.