No Right Side

Guarding The Rich, Hunting the Poor

Or, why you don't trust Drow

The chests were carried back into the mannor of the elated Donovan Wilde ,who promptly rewarded everyone for there efforts. There we also met two new strangers, a Drow, named Ilyich Trotsky, as well as a friend that Master Von Canto had neglected to mention before, a warrior from the northern tribes, referred to only by his clan name, the Purple Worm. Just as my Master was thanking everyone, and getting ready to go, it was revealed that the Merchant had an ulterior motive….his guardsmen had fallen ill, and he required our talents in order to guard an upcoming party of his.

This raised several alarm bells in not only my masters head, but his companion’s heads as well:

1. How does the entire guard-staff of, quite literately, the richest man in the world all fall ill for the same time period, much less of the same infection?
2. How can a seemingly mild-mannered infection (Filth Fever) render an entire garrison not only unable to work, but require “The best treatment” in the nearby town over?
3. Why did this Mr. Wilde intrust both his life, and the well-being of his home to, for all intents and purposes, to complete strangers?

Only two kinds of people make such decisions; fools, or masterminds, masquerading as fools.

It was decided that we would look into this matter, whilst still guarding the manor.

We investigated the manor grounds, searched for hidden passages, questioned the servants, and got nothing but confused looks. Perhaps there was something we were missing?

Sadly, as it turned out, Master Von Canto had overestimated the intelligence of Donovan, for once the party had started, Donovan spread his guards at the wrong places…and was gunned down by a group of hired guns before any of us could react. With some quick thinking, the party captured two goons to interrogate.

And interrogate them they did. Under the threat of execution, they revealed to us three main facts.

1. Donovan is a powerful man, with more then one foil in the business world.
2. The assassins likely motive was Donovan’s monopoly on the valuable Gorewood forest to the east.
3. The attack was planned and executed by a Lizardman, named (Blah) inside of the Gorewood.

We left Ms. Wilde to grieve for the night. By the morning, we talked over breakfast, and learned more news. Her son, heir to a muli-million gp empire, was missing…along with our “friend” Ilyich, immediately causing the suspicion of blame to fall on him. We told Ms. Wilde we would head to Gorewood to avenge Donovan’s killer, but she insisted we go after her son…as that trail was “warmer”, so to speak.

And with that, we climbed into the back of the wagon, and headed south-east along the roads. The trip was altogether uneventful. The only notable feature was the increasingly numbered checkpoints along the road to our destination. Apparently security had been heightened as of recent…who knew? Most of the guards we spoke to along the way had scene a Drow with a human baby, but allowed them to pass, due to a lack of contraband. Heightened security …Ha! Us, however, were searched thoroughly, multiple times…cutting serious time off of our trip.

We arrived at our destination, the town of (Blah) after a few short days. We questioned the guard (Who seamed to be mostly tieflings) and asked them to keep and eye out, but they seamed entirety unhelpful. We searched high and low (Quite literally, in the case of our Barbarian, who attempted to climb a guard tower) but found nothing but the ethereal wisps of a trail.

With that, we retired to the inn, and ate a hearty meal. Here’s hoping tomorrow picks up somewhat.



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