Chapter 1: Of Bandits and Ballrooms

Taking jobs further away from home was definitely the right thing to do. I managed to travel as far as the town of Daggerford, which is still a fairly small place compared to, say, Waterdeep or Baldur's Gate, but was just right for my purposes. At the Barracks, I met a Captain Flint, who was posting some fascinating job opportunities for those entrepreneurially inclined. The better-paying jobs all required a crew, but fortunately, a group of ... like-minded? ... individuals were also in search of some coins to pay for bed and breakfast. And tequila.

The six of us agreed to join forces and take on one of the larger bounties: a group of a dozen bandits had been raiding convoys on the outskirts of town, causing great consternation to the local merchants. Cassandra Brightwood settled rather naturally into a leadership role, directing the rest of us out of the town. She's a very charming and refined lady who is difficult to say "no" to, so we all followed her lead. It would have been nice to have a hunter skilled in tracking in the group, but as Gran always said, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

If we're wishing for things, though, I'd also really like a horse that flies, please and thank you.

Regardless, our group is who they are, and we muddled our way through just fine. We managed to come upon the bandits. They may have come upon us, who's to say? Cassandra immediately set eyes on the leader of the group and did her best to talk some sense into them. What sort of life is highway robbery? Surely being law-abiding citizens is more productive? She really did try her best to talk them 'round without the need for arms, but they weren't having any of it.

Recognizing a lost cause when it laughed in her face, Cassandra demurely fell to the rear and signaled the rest of us to attempt our brand of "diplomacy". I've watched Da weave oily words to get his way in Counsel before, but I've always felt that steel speaks plenty persuasively when applied with proper motivation. Faerxan moved back to provide cover for Cassandra and Avery, who was hunched down shouting words of encouragement from behind the relative safety of a pile of wooden crates.

Unconcerned about the overwhelming number of them, Moss waded into their midst with a whirlwind of fist and foot and knee, clearly prepared to fight to the last. Unable to leave a companion on his own, I hurried to his side. Poor Avery was dragged from his place of cover by Allynia, who seemed pleased as Punch to join the fray. From behind us, Cassandra alternated in using her particular brand of magic to inspire her comrades to greatness and vicious mock the bandits' attempts at a defense, which weighed heavily enough upon their morale that we were able to dispatch the lot of them.

Bandits rarely listen to reason, but I like Cassandra's optimism that they would have ever followed us peacefully. She was rather upset after the skirmish; seems she's usually able to talk her way to satisfactory outcomes for all. Most of us attempted to hide expressions saying that we all thought that wouldn't be the case for much longer, unless she stuck to using her diplomatic tactics in ballrooms and Counsel Lodges. Regardless, I am more than happy to let her try her way first!

For his part, Avery all but dragged us back to the inn in Daggerford for a round of congratulatory drinks to celebrate our victory (and upcoming payment). He was very free with his coins, and bought rounds of drinks for everyone. I may not have paid much attention after that -- it's hard keeping up with how much Avery drinks! I remember that Cassandra put on quite the show, playing her violin and dancing about the bar. I... think Moss went off to play darts or cards or... something by himself. He's a hard man to keep track of at the best of times, because he never says anything to draw attention to himself. Faerxan seemed to have had enough of our hullabaloo, and he carried Avery upstairs to pour the drunken sod into his bed. If he ever came back down, I didn't notice. Allynia seemed rather taken by some stories being told 'bout the bar, but I was too busy writing all this down and pretending not to be intoxicated to hear more than snippets about dwarves, a paladin, and some sort of goblin attack.

I think I should pour myself into my own bed now as well.



What a day! I'm quite poor now, but that's nothing that a little adventuring can't restore.

We ate up a hearty breakfast at the inn, then headed out to the Barracks to find Captain Flint (and our payment). It seems that while we were away, something rather concerning had been brewing in the area. We didn't quite get the full picture of what, but the Duchess had sent for a new troop of recruits from Waterdeep to help defend the town (or prepare for an offensive against someone else?). Very green soldiers were all practicing in the Barrack yard, and not doing very well, I must say. They'll get there one day. With your shield or on it!

Inside, we met up with Captain Flint, who paid us quite handsomely for our job. Sixty gold coins and a pair of potions! And then I promptly blew it all in one gross self-indulgence. But as Gran always said, if you're going to buy something, buy a good one for it will last far longer and better than cheap crap will. Turns out, we'd made a bit of a name for ourselves, especially after returning relatively unscathed from such a large job. We were invited to join the Duchess's banquet later that evening, so we all went out to get gussied up for what promised to be a fascinating dog and pony show.

Even in silks and finery, hair and makeup done up by Cassandra, yeah, we definitely stuck out as adventurers rather than noble lords of any sort. But whatever! Piss on what they think; the Duchess herself gave us a job -- and she paid in advance! Another 200 gold coins, weighing down our pockets, and all we had to do was go talk to a cheery bunch of local color making a nuisance of themselves on the outskirts of town.

Well, by local, I mean they were here locally now. These "Vistani", as they are known, are certainly not from here. They are a welcoming group of travelers, brightly dressed, singing and dancing, and if anyone were to ask me, they certainly know how to throw a better party than the stuffy lot we'd just left. Their beer, however, tasks like piss water, and repeats on you just as badly. But that's beside the point. Point is, they offered us a job! So we got paid to go talk to them and have them move along, which they'll do, because they're going to take us to a "Madam Eva" to get the details on another job we'll get paid for.

One of the elders in the caravan told us a fantastic story of their people:

Long ago, in whatever land they had originally come from, a wounded soldier stumbled into their ancestors' camp. They tended the man's wounds, cared for him, and helped him get back home even though his enemies were hunting him. In return for their protection, the stranger, a prince of this other land, offered the Vistani people his friendship, saying that their people would always be welcome guests in his lands.

There's always a twist in these sorts of stories, though. Stanimir said that some sort of curse befell their beloved prince, turning him into a tyrant. They've been travelling, looking for people to help end the prince's curse and help his soul be freed, or something like that. I'm not sure if they're looking for curse-breakers to help restore him to the man he used to be or for people just to kill the guy. Their leader, this Madam Eva, will be able to tell us more about the details. Either way, we agreed to run quickly back to the inn to get our stuff, pay our tabs, and return in time to set off before daybreak. After all, we want to keep Duchess Morwen happy, since she pays so very, very well...