Dramatis Personae
Obsidian (Jase)
Calista (Reni)
Fenmyar (Freddie)
Galadin (Andrew)
Jakama (Rowan)
Lexomel (Rex)
Sheepishly, Volo thanks the group for rescuing his dear friend Floom, who sinks, exhausted, into the nearest chair. In a low voice, as if to keep his message secret within their group, Volo whispers, “I wish to extend thanks to your group. But before we go any further, I must tell you that there is good news as well bad news about your reward.”
The group members, stony faced, stare back at the twitching of Volo’s handlebar mustache. Finally, Volo sheepishly says, “My friends, books sales have been….shall we say, less vigorous than expected.” He gestures to the several large piles of unsold copies of Volo’s Guide to Monsters. Closing his eyes as though pained, he shakes his head sadly. “Even the signed copies—collectibles, mind you—have not been selling. Imagine! There’s no market for monsters these days.” Volo issues a very deep sigh before being snapped from his reverie by Jakama.
“You have no gold, do you?” Jakama’s mouth is a compressed line. He tries and fails to hide his frustration.
Volo looks at him, eyes welling with tears, and fishes in his tattered velvet jacket. “You are right, dear boy, I have no gold, no dragons. I do however have this, and I am happy to sign it over to you!” With a flourish, he spreads an official looking scroll of parchment onto the tabletop. “The deed to Trollskull Manor, the focal point of Trollskull Alley. I purchased it with the last of the gold from the royalties of my more popular work, Volo’s Guide to All Things Magical.”
Grabbing his bottle of ink and quill meant for his book signing, Volo inscribe’s each adventurer’s name onto the deed to Trollskull Manor. “I purchased it not long ago for a good price, it needed a bit of work and it has, shall we say, a resident who refuses to leave. A former barman, who haunts the place.”
“Why doesn’t someone just throw him out?” demands Obsidian.
Looking embarrassed, Volo mumbles, “ He’s a poltergeist. I was planning to deal with him after the book sale. I’m sure he isn’t terribly dangerous, although you might refer to my chapter on the Undead in my Monsters book. They have been known, you know, to drain the life from their victims.”
The group, excited at the prospect of owning a mansion, departs for bed, while pThe group, excited at the prospect of owning a mansion, departs for bed, while planning to head over to their new property first thing in the morning with Volo as a tour guide. Looking refreshed and excited, Volo leads them to Waterdeep’s North Ward. A run-down but busy lane, accessible from Saerdoun Street, is opening for a day of business. Volo points out the shops and shopkeepers who will be the neighbors of the friends. “There’s a potion shop, an armorer and an apothecary quite close by. You’ll likely wish to get to know Talley Fellbranch, a carpenter and wood-carver, here at the Bent Nail.” Volo gestures to a low shop that smells strongly of fresh cut boards. Volo pauses at a sewer grate at one end of the lane. “I’m told one might access the sewers, if one had a mind to,” Volo says. The friends exchange looks that seem to say they’ve had more than enough time in the sewers for a while.
Volo pauses before a shop that is one of the taller buildings on the street. Beneath the hanging sign’s scrolled name, “The Book Wyrm’s Treasure,” a window display is stacked with unsold copies of Volo’s guide to monsters. Volo sighs and moves on. He gestures to a storefront with the curious logo of an open eye painted on its door. “This place,” whispers Volo, “is called the Tiger’s Eye. It’s owned by a private detective. Trench is his name. No one seems to know much about him. Very mysterious….ah, here we are!”
Volo has stopped before what is easily the largest and shabbiest building on the block. He gestures grandly, placing a large, ring of rusting keys in Galadin’s hand. “Well,” says Volo, “I must run. Books to sell, you know. Good luck!” And with that, Volo is gone.
Fenmyar casts Invisibility on himself and lights a candle stub from one of the tables. The tiny floating light shows the friends a shabby taproom filled with rickety furniture. Every surface is coated with a thick layer of dust. Filthy glasses and empty bottles cover tables and lay piled in corners. Obsidian points to a particularly dark corner. “What was that?” He moves behind the bar to investigate. He sees a glowing green figure hovering over a trap door. The poltergeist! As he approaches, the pale face stretches to a hideous rictus and shrieks, “Last call!!! The bar is closing,” before sinking through the floor.
Unafraid, Jakama throws open the trapdoor and climbs down the ladder into the darkness. Fortunately, his darkvision give him a clear view of the ancient, cobwebbed cellar. Floating several inches above the packed-earth floor is the poltergeist. His glowing green face is a mask of anger, and his jaw unhinges to his waist as he screams at Jakama, “No patrons allowed!! Employees only!!” He points a see-through green finger at a dusty sign on the trapdoor.
Feeling threatened, Jakama casts Light. In the confined space of the cellar, both the poltergeist and Jakama himself suffer radiant damage from his small but powerful cantrip, and both skeleton and spirit are temporarily blinded.
Lexomel discovers the upper floors of the mansion can only be reached by a set of outside stairs. Lexomel is able to pick the lock, allowing himself, Galadin and Calista explore the second floor of the mansion.
Hearing a noise, Galadin opens a door and discovers a young boy crouching behind some dusty armchairs. His clothes are tattered, and his face is dirty. He shies away from Galadin, who indicates that he means the boy no harm. Galadin discovers the boy’s name is Maartin. He is an orphan, apprenticed to a wizard recently killed by the gangs who occupy Waterdeep. Maartin’s main concern is that he will be evicted. Galadin lets Maartin know that wise Fenmyar might take him on as a student. The boy seems relieved.
Meanwhile, Lexomel and Calista continue to higher stories in the house. Lexomel finds an upper bedroom at the top of the house and claims it for his own. Galadin opens a door to the dusty attic, filled with boxes and crates. Hmmm.
Down in the cellar, Fenmyar sees both the poltergeist and Jakama with their arms over their faces. A light spell brightly illuminates the dusty, low space. The poltergeist is backed up against a wine rack, and gentle Fenmyar asks the spirit who he is. Peering from between ghostly fingers, the poltergeist identifies himself as the tavern’s previous barkeeper, a half-elf named Lif. Maintaining the tavern was his life’s work, and he couldn’t abandon the place in death. Fenmyar reassures the spirit that he will not be forced to leave.
It seems Trollskull Manor already has two residents. The friends will make it their own quite soon.
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