RECAP: BDC, 6-18-21

Columbick, cleric of Caiden Cailiean, took some time at the River Rest tavern, the best in Wolverton, to cast Identify on the strange wand Pat “McGroin” Cunningham managed to take from the warehouse at the bugbear workcamp. A torch-shaped wand inscribed with three “bubbles.” When the torch is lit, it creates a sphere of air in which one can breathe and walk normally. the three inscriptions represent individual uses.

“Let me tell you about the Castleanters,” said Lady Tilda Locher, Knight of the Phoenix, over a glass of vintage wine in the common room. “Lord Castleanter – not the grandfather, but the current one – was treasurer of the entire Sword Coast. He oversaw all imports and exports for my, and everything he touched turned to gold, and the entire Coast was prosperous. Fifteen years ago, Castleanter resigned and ensconced himself in his family’s manor at White Cliffs. He’d stopped working for my father, and the good of the coast, but his talents were intact: over the years, he made his family the wealthiest on the Coast – and beyond, many say.”

“The Baron sent a message to Lord Castleanter two weeks ago – they’d had some disagreements, and while my father wouldn’t speak of them, I knew that he’d regretted they words they’d exchanged. The message was an invitation for Castleanter to come to my father’s castle and, perhaps give my father an opportunity to make amends. There was no response. My father sent servants to obtain a response, and they were turned away. The Castleanters, their guards said, were not in residence.”

Lady Locher sighed deeply and took a long drink of dark wine. “The Baron has asked me – us – to find out why the Castleanters will not respond to his entreaties and where, if they are indeed away from White Cliffs, they have gone. To be honest, I suspect my father is being melodramatic – it’s not unusual for the Castlelanters to spend time at one of their many manors along the Coast. The likelihood is that they are as their guards say: simply away from their manor. And, they are a very insular family, and they value their privacy.

Lucky Lirtgid took a long sip of ale, let his eyes roam around the common of the ‘Rest, and couldn’t help but smile. His drums were in the shop, being retooled by expert leather workers – he owed Pat a debt of thanks for that. And the priest by his side was a fellow Caileanite, which meant whatever happened, there was sure to be wine and usquebaugh aplenty. Even now, a fresh flask of good Dwarven spirits was lodged in his backpack.

“What else do we know about the Castleanters?” asked Pat. He looked thoughtful. “A manor that size, they will require a lot of support. Let’s check with the vendors and see they are still got deliveries of food.”

“And wine!” declared Columbick.

Lucky nodded. “A lord of Castleanter’s stature would drink the best – let’s check with the finest wine merchants in town.”

But the merchants they talked to confirmed what the guards had said: no deliveries, the Castleanters weren’t in their manor. The next step was obvious: to go to the manor itself.

The guards recognized Lady Locher and let the party past the iron gates that separated the manor grounds from the rest of White Cliffs. The guards confirmed: the Castleanters were gone, for weeks. Further, they acknowledged that they’d been paid, in advance for the next six months. Inside, all was relatedly normal, taken in light of the family being gone. They made their way to the lord’s study, and it was bare, like the rest of the house – lots of evidence that the entire family and staff had departed for parts unknown.

It was inside the study they found their found their first clue: in his diary, on his massive oaken desk, was a strange notation just a few days before the family had departed the manor: “PACT DUE” it said, with two circles of ink rounding it. Another piece of parchment nearby, written in a feminine hand, read: “All valuables transferred to the docks for transport.” When asked, the guards admitted that the Castleanters had been moving goods to the docks for weeks. Some, he acknowledged, might still be there. “Look out for Hala Mert,” he said surreptitiously.

“What do you think?” asked Pat. Lady Locher shrugged… but as she did so, a moaning sound that seemed to emanate from the very walls seemed to surround them. Pat waved everyone to be quiet and listened intently to the sounds emanating from the ducts:

“…. fools ….”

Pat strained to hear.

“The fools! The damned fools!” It was a man’s voice, an older man, older than Lady Locher’s father.

“Where does this vent lead?” Pat asked the guard. Pale at hearing the sound, it took a moment for him to respond. “I don’t know,” he stammered. “The family crypt is nearby, beyond that wall.”

The party rushed outside, to the ornate but rusty iron gate that barred the entrance to the carved stone crypt. The locked folded and they entered to see an apparition of an older man, whose face was reminiscent of that repeated on the multiple paintings on the walls of the manor. The apparition was agitated and floated angrily about the crypt.

“They have risked the future of the family on this folly!” the apparition said. “The children need to be rescued from their parents!”

At that, the apparition disappeared.

The party decided to search the remaining outbuildings, and soon they found themselves in the barn. The horses, though older, were very well cared for, and it wasn’t long before the party discovered the reason: a young woman named Tonja, servant of the Castleanters, hiding in the hayloft. She had returned from travel only a week before, after the Castleanters had departed, to an empty manor. Thinking nothing amiss, she returned to her duties in the stable and carried on as normal.

The party asked her further: was anything amiss before you’d left? Somewhat, Tonja, admitted. The entirety of the house contents were being inventoried and, in large parted, crated for travel. The Castleanters had travelled before, many times, but never felt to pack their things to the extent they had in this instance. The children – dark haired and pale skinned, all, like their grandfather – were usually jovial, and Tonja admitted she occasionally played with them, as they were of an age (Tonja 14, the twins around 10-11, nearly the same age as their older sister before she died unexpectedly some years before). But in the days before their departure, they had grown very serious.

The party left the Castleanter Manor and proceed to the docks, to see if it was possible to learn more about the Castleanters departure. A tavern, the Herod Inn, beckoned and the party entered. Lucky, who had been drumming with local musicians in Wolverton since his rescue from the bugbears to earn a few silvers, recognized several musicians inside and joined them, learning from them that a ship captain named Hala Mert was in the Herod Inn even as they spoke, and helpfully pointed her out.

The Herod Inn’s sign, swinging outside on two rusted chains, was old and rimed with salt, but the interior was bright and busy. Captain Mert was entertaining a half-dozen sailors, two in the robes of mages but all high ranking, armed to the teeth and enjoying (by the looks of the expert Columbick) some very expensive drinks. She wore exquisite leather armor and had a long rapier laid on the table.

Columbick buys an expensive round and makes his way over to Mert’s table, charming her with his willingness to buy drinks and introducing Pat (Lucky took a seat at the bar to keep an eye on the proceedings). It’s not long before the discussion turns to the Castleanters, and Pat asks: where have they gone? Did you move some cargo for them? Mert was forthcoming: the Castleanters aren’t missing, they left – Lord Castleanter three weeks previous, who spoke only of having to “stabilize the situation”; the lady, children and servants a week later. Another round of pricy drinks loosened their tongues even more: Mert introduced them to Captain Mortimer (who rumor had was at odds with an all-female pirate consortium). The lady, Mortimer said, had left on two ships, one of which was the Wayward Son, commanded by Captain Zaaz. And what’s more, the Wayward Son was slated to return to Wolverton in the next couple days.

“I’ve had business with his Lordship – good business, profitable business,” Mortimer said with a smile. “Not as many know it, but his Lordship has a warehouse down the way, behind the tannery and chandler.”

The parted on good terms with Mert and Mortimer and headed out to investigate the warehouse. Lucky spotted a man from the Herod following Pat and Columbick, but he made no move to interfere. The warehouse itself was pretty well lit, in a prosperous area of the dock, and had (surprisingly) a full complement of guards, guards who occasionally went inside.

The next day, the group regrouped with Lady Locher, and updated her on what they’d learned the day before. Lady Locher informed the Reeve and, with some of the reeve’s men and Lady Locher’s personal guard, approached the warehouse. The Reeve demanded entry, which was granted by a tiefling. The tiefling was cautious and reluctant to speak, but allowed everyone in and admitted they, too, had been paid six months wages in advance, binding them contractually. It was clear that took that contract seriously, and quite possibly were worried that breach might require them to forfeit the remaining wages. Regardless, they were serious about ensuring that none of the party stole anything.

The cartons contained various items – some household goods, others (oddly) various sorts of detritus. In the warehouse office, Pat found a ledger of sorts, that indicated the ships (and presumably the Castleanters) had gone to a place called Morningstar Isle. Lady Locher knew something of the region: Mason Isle, near the capital city of Sternhaven, is less an island and more a small archipelago. One of the smaller islets in the northwest portion is called Morningstar. Charts, the lady averred, could easily concur.

Lady Locher declared that the only curse of action she and her men at arms (which had doubled in numbers only recently) ought to take was to travel, as quickly as possible, to this Morningstar Island. The problem was that the only vessels headed in that direction, two in the last weeks and the latest around the same time as Lady Castleanter’s departure, were long gone. But fortune was with the Lady: the Wayward Son arrived in Wolverton on time and without incident.

The party immediately went to see Captain Zaaz of the ‘Son, and he sang like a canary. Sure, he said, I took Lady Castleanter to Morningstar Island, dropping her off at the family’s castle at a place called Morningstar Point. From there, however, the conversation grew darker: lady Castleanter, known for her beauty and vivaciousness, was somber and businesslike the entire voyage. Her guards and servants were the same… but more concerning was Captain Zaaz assertion that the children were not aboard. Are you sure? Lady Locher asked. No children, Zaaz assured her.

Zaaz and the Wayward Son was heading back that way on the tide two days hence, and lady Locher booked passage for her and her henchmen, on the promise that Zaaz would let them disembark at Morningstar. He promised he would.