Tales of the Sword Coast

Chronicle of the Orchammer
Penned by his squire, Aseir

Penned this, the 29th day of Tarsakh, in the Year of Deep Water Drifting, 1481 DR

My first day of working for my master, the honorable Master Orchammer has been more exciting than any other day I have spent upon Toril. It started off mundanely enough. I helped Mother make preparations to travel to Thundertree, our new home. Master Orchammer arranged for her to tend his bar while he adventures, and she gladly accepted.

I met up with my master in the Upper City at the Helm and Cloak. A large crowd had gathered in the Wide nearby, and my Master and his brave companions guessed correctly that some loaf had stolen the hands from the Beloved Ranger. The whole city was outraged, and of course, my Master and his friends sprang into action. They met with that nervous Master of Cobbles, Nurthammas, and quickly joined the investigation. Mister Baremedows searched the area around the statue and found a brooch mostly buried in the ground. I never would have found that, but he keen eyes picked it up. The tree woman found a badly damaged dagger nearby, and like the brooch, it had one of the Patriar family crests on it.

My Master worked his magic all around the Wide, using Torm’s powers to try to find the hands, but they were nowhere nearby. Mister Baremedows suggested we investigate the Patriar houses on the insignias, and we headed over to the Ravenshade manor. We met with Lady Ravenshade, a woman of beauty and grace unequalled, and she allowed us to search her daughter, Agathé’s room. Her servant was watching, but I managed to snag her journal. Mister Baremedows found some love poems from a partial lad named Walleth, and a bawdy note from some other patriar boy called Vafiir. I didn’t get to read that note, but Miss Leal did. I’ve never seen a tree blush before.

We went to the other house, the one with the crest on the dagger, and spoke to Lord Oberon. He seemed to be very upset that his boy could have been out wandering the Lower City, and told us where to find his tutor, some bloke named Delvin Tallfellow. Mister Baremedows spoke with him for a while, and then told everyone that there were six patriar youths involved, possibly kidnapped. The young Miss Ravenshade’s journal said she was bribing some Watch guard named Jovashe, so we went and talked to him.

Jovashe caved pretty quickly under the threats my Master and Mister Baremedows levied. He pointed us to a lamp lad named Brom, who said he took the group to a ferryman near Gray Harbor. We found the ferryman, gold was exchanged, and he ferried us to Twinsongs, not far from my house. The sun was setting by then, but we managed to find a merchant who said he saw them slip inside the potter shop owned by Hargold Hadru.

We moved down the narrow pass of Wyrm’s Bridge, found the shop, and convinced Mister Hadru to show us where the missing Patriars were hiding. They were holed up in the hanging cellar beneath his shop. From what they said, they were just playing a prank, one that went very wrong. Once they realized how much of the city they had infuriated, they fled. I would have, too. Master Odric sent me for a boat to help bring the youths back to the Upper City without the Fist or the Watch being any wiser.

Not long after I had acquired the boat and was making my way back to the Bridge, I heard a huge explosion. I found my Master sinking to the bottom of the Chionthar, Miss Leal floating above him, the dragon woman lying on top of Miss Leal, and the dragon man floating down from the heavens to save them. One of the patriars was down there, too, with a broken arm. I helped her into the boat before getting my Master and his companions in as well. We rowed to the south end of the bridge and met up with Mister Baremedows and the other patriars. Hopefully we can get a good night’s sleep before making the long trek back to the Upper City.

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Correspondence from the Office of Duke Torlin Silvershield Regarding the Growing Civil Unrest
Tarsakh 19, 1840 D.R.

Esteemed friends,

Forgive my inability to meet with you earlier. There have been increasing reports of petty vandalism in the Lower City, and the merchants have been at my door for days demanding action. As if scrawled graffiti and a few broken windows required the attention of a Duke! The gall! But, it seems they are persistent, if nothing else. Therefore, I would ask that you investigate who is behind these petty crimes. Bring any you find involved to the Flaming Fist for judgement. That should be sufficient to satisfy these upstart peddlers and traders. Report back to me once you have made progress and for a small token of appreciation for your service.

Blessings of Gond be upon you,

Duke Torlin Silvershield, High Wondermaker of Gond

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Friends in high places...
10 Tarsakh, 1480 D.R.

The following is an except from the journal of Aelar Galanodel…

“10 Tarsakh, 1480 D.R.: It has been several days since I have had time for reflection on recent events, let alone the time necessary for collecting these events in writing. So there is much to recount…

Shortly after Duke Adrian’s death and the tragic events on the wide, I was approached by one Imbralym Skoond, acting on behalf of one of the remaining Dukes of Baldur’s Gate. He offered us a chance to sit and sup with him as he brought us up to date on events in Baldur’s Gate and explained his patron’s interest in having some additional agents working on his behalf.

Curiously, as this first invitation was playing itself out, Odric was approached by the leader of the Flaming Fist, only newly promoted upon the death of Duke Adrian. He offered to host us on Wyrm’s Rock for a meeting to discuss the ills of the city, both high and low. Unfortunately, both meetings were conflicted in timing, so Odric, Perrin, and This went off to Wyrm’s Rock while Irshimboss, Serenia, and I made our way to a meeting with Skoond at an inn called the Three Kegs.

Upon reflection, it appears our meeting with Skoon went better than Odric’s time upon Wyrm’s Rock. I gather from Perrin that they may have actually been thrown out of the stronghold due to Odric’s ham-handed attempts at diplomacy. While I have come to trust his sword and his shield in times of battle, there are skills even Torm has not gifted Odric with.

So now we are in the service of Duke Silvershield, one of the four high Dukes of Baldur’s Gate. I get the sense that his generous stipend for our time is just as much about buying our loyalty as it is procuring our services. Still, it never hurts to have friends in high places. If nothing else, the relationship has at least garnered me access to the High Hall’s libraries for as long as we remain in Baldur’s Gate.

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A bloody beginning
7 Tarsakh, 1480 D.R.

The following is an except from the journal of Aelar Galanodel…

“7 Tarsakh, 1480 D.R.: Eventful times are always at hand when traveling with my companions. Disembarking upon Bauldur’s Gate’s piers, we found a festival taking place. Centered mainly in The Wide, the High City’s open-air market, we delighted in smells and sights beyond the rails of The Sea Sprite. And while I depend upon my companions when times are tough, it was pleasant to wander the Wide alone. Not listening to variations of Perrin’s repertoire of songs, watch Irshimboss mutter esoteric formulae to himself, or avoid Odric as he extolls the virtues of Torm over all Others… these were pleasures I did not realize I would enjoy quite as much as I did.

Still, the peaceful bliss of solitude, even among the masses, was not to last. Shortly after a local figure, one Duke Abdel Adrian, mounted a rough platform along the Wide’s eastern edge to address the gathered masses, mayhem broke out. Archer’s fired upon the crowd from vantage points high along the rooftops, creating panic and chaos among the crowded masses. While most of the gathered populace scattered to the four winds, I was heartened to see my companions spring into action. Serina and Odric waded into the fray, while Irshimboss used his arcane knowledge to impressive effect. Perrin and Leia worked to calm the crowd and get people (and cats…?) to safety. All the while, Thia and I took up defensive positions near the Duke, who seemed intent to finding the source of the chaos.

Before too long a challenger leapt atop the stage and Duke Adrian and this wicked fiend took up arms against one another. Alas, Duke Adrian was outmatched and unable to overcome the superior arms of his opponent. Upon the Duke’s death, the villain underwent a hideous transformation, spraying the remaining crowds with blood and ichor before our combined efforts were able to bring the hideous fiend down…."

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A journey's end...
6 Tarsakh, 1480 D.R.

The following is an except from the journal of Aelar Galanodel…

“6 Tarsakh, 1480 D.R.: After many ten-days’ travel over land and sea, the captain has indicated The Sea Sprite will weigh anchor in Baldur’s Gate tomorrow. Our journey has been pleasant the past several days, after the squalls we endured a ten-day ago. Hopefully the tides will favor our journey up-river. It will be good to once again rest is a bed that is, itself, at rest. But with thoughts of rest, I must confess feelings of guilt that our journey does not westerly towards the shores of Evermeet. I still carry the burden of a wandering soul who lacks the rest all deserve."

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