Crosseyed and Penniless

Running low on ways to cheat their way to gold and glory, and after a bullish period of lucky ploys, the party resorted to ever more risky strategies. From his days reading on the streets of Calimport, Safad should have remembered the philosophies of the great sage, Minskman Hymie, who noted this phenomenon in some of his seminal works--that reckless speculative activity during extended (and unsustainable) periods of success sow the seeds of catastrophic failure. Well, the party was about to experience firsthand their own "Hymie Moment". 

They had been matched up against Sellsun the Snake in the semi-finals, what was certainly going to be difficult match. They had won 317 gold, and stood to win an additional 630 in this match. They could almost feel the weight of it in their purses. Using the long-lost skills of the Artificer gleaned from his heirloom book, Safad prepared to faux sneeze while abjuring a protection on Rook. Ironica and Falka looked on from a safe distance. Dala'gse was trailed by his exhorters. The sneeze was unconvincing. On a scale of 1 to 20, it was a solid 1, and did little to cover up the ancient words and obvious magical energy transferred to the raven--obvious to nearly five people in Safad's vicinity. Uh oh. 

It started with a murmur. 

"Rickal, did he just--?" 

"Did you see that, Bronter..." 

And then it spread, and before Safad could finish his incantation cries erupted throughout the crowd. 

"Cheat!" 

"He's a cheat!"

"The raven handler is a cheat!" 

"And he's using MAGIC!" 

An angry mob formed around Safad and only Log the Bookie's thunderous dragonborn rasp could calm the crowd to a low din as he summoned Safad to the betting table. His protestations were met with venomous anger from the handlers of the animals Rook had defeated. 

"I knew that raven couldn't have beaten Feck the Goat in a fair fight! Let alone Sturg the Wasp!!" 

"They're going to get thrown out of the 'scarp! They was cheatin' with magic!!" 

As Safad handed over the 317 gold the party had cheated out of the honest people of the Mootscarp, Log the Bookie was satisfied. Rufus Danz did the honors, and with some glee pronounced, "You are hereby banned from any future matches at or related to this establishment.  Your name will be sullied in all underground animal fighting rings henceforth. You put the wholee enterprise in danger using magic, I hope you get what you deserve from Bhin and Ledo." 

But the mob would not be appeased. A few shouts went out about how Rook cheating had thrown off the whole competition, how it was a waste, and all they had was some dead animals to show for it! They demanded a solution from Rufus and Log. 

First there was jostling, then fists. A brawl broke out in the crowded cavern. Falka, Ironica, and Dala'gse swooped in to help usher Safad out and the group left the mob to figure out the fallout born from their chaos. 

As they emerged into the fresh air of the evening the breathed a collective sigh of relief. But it was short lived. 

"IRONICA, SAFAD, DALA'GSE, RYA, FALKA, SLOTHROP!" a clearly-magically enhanced voice boomed out of the tents and structures of the Mootscarp grounds. The tribespeople and travelers quivered in their boots. Some genuflected protective signs of their deities. 

"TO THE KITCHEN, NOW." 

 An angry Ledo met them, looking disappointed and severe. But he looked fearful as he said, "Bhin is in quite a state, he is waiting for us downstairs."

The group followed Ledo to the wine cellar where they passed through a few cavernous rooms before Ledo tossed aside a velvety curtain and showed them into a torchlit room. 

Inside was Bhin, seated at a stool, staring at a table upon which sat a delicately detailed three-dimensional model of the Mootscarp. They could almost feel the heat coming off the man, and could barely hear him ask:

"Do you know what this is?" He moved his hand subtly and a dozen or so blue lights pulsed into existence in various places on the model. There was a higher concentration of them in a cavern carved out under the root cellar. Actually, the party had a good sense of all the places the blue lights were--they recall being in each of them at some point.

"No one?" Bhin looked up at the party and his eyes flashed as the torchlight dimmed. His voice quivered on edge, "It is all the places the six of you have used magic at my establishment." His voice picked up energy, "My establishment, where there are three rules. Just three. No killing, no trolls...and NO MAGIC." 

Before anyone could interject, Bhin continued. 

"And what's more, one of you had the audacity to neuter the efficacy of my bouncer, while the rest of you created the conditions for which I hired him in the first place, all at at a barely-tolerated so-called secret GAMBLING RACKET ANIMAL DEATH MATCH RING!" He was yelling now.

"MY BOUNCER IS THE SIZE OF A GNOME, GALAVANTING WITH MY DAUGHTER, WHILE A BRAWL BROKE OUT IN MY ROOT CELLAR!"

"IRONICA, what possessed you to meddle with my daughter and my bouncer in such a way. I warned you the penalty of keeping me in the dark on this and you ASSURED me to trust her!" 

Ironica saw the power in this man, and his anger, but would not be cowed. She fired back. 

"And you should trust her! She's not a child anymore. She can make her own decisions and you should respect them. She is a good person, you raised her well, trust her to be on her own and decide for herself. If you love her, you need to let her become herself and not what you mold her to be. A tree cannot grow in the shadow of its parents. If she felt like she could be open with you about this I wouldn't have had to get involved. Don't bring her decisions into what we have done. She's a good girl and she loves you." 

Ironica had done it, she had found the truth and honor in the man--the fire went out of Bhin and back into the torches and candles lighting the room. The temperature cooled. Ledo could not hide the look of awe on his face. Bhin was still angry but his voice was more controlled.

"The six of you still must answer for your transgressions." He looked over to Ledo and retreated into himself, the flames from the torches glinting off a tear streaking down his face.

Ledo cleared his throat. 

"Tomorrow morning, you will leave the Mootscarp. You will take Heathayla and the elf child to the college of Melarn's Door, where her partner Davna is a student. You will protect them both on the journey. If you do this, you will be welcome back to the Mootscarp and your crimes forgotten. If you do not, this establishment will be forever closed to you. 

Behave yourselves tonight, enjoy the Star-throp or any peaceful gathering, and prepare to depart tomorrow. I will give you the map I promised then." 

The party agreed. 

"We better go back upstairs then," Ledo ushered them out of the room. As they left, Bhin caught Ironica's eye, and she thought she could see something in them...humility, or gratitude. 

With that, the party dispersed. Falka to drinking and blatant flirting as she cajoled a flustered Ledo at the bar. Slothrop and Safad met up with Safad's pal Lasstur of the Serpent Sons who had invited them to the Mootscarp. Rya continued continued her training as she learned the uses of more obscure herbs in Kalax's care of Heathayla. Dala'gse and Ironica retreated back upstairs to help watch over the infant, when they ran into a giggling Lissoli. 

"Ironica!" Lissoli called out, "come in to my room!" 

Dala'gse and Ironica followed the gnome back to her room where they found a miniature half sea giant. It was Laurie, the size of a gnome, but growing--his potion wearing off. He grinned sheepishly and Lissoli laughed before getting serious. 

"Ironica, thank you for everything, for helping us, we had the most spectacular evening." Laurie grew another inch. "Did my father say anything to you?" 

Ironica told her that Bhin was likely on to them, and they should probably talk to each other about it, but that she thinks he would understand now. Lissoli was skeptical but Ironica assured her she should speak with her father. 

Laurie, almost the height of Dala'gse now, spoke up. "Ironica, I know you risked a lot to do what you did for us, and facing the wrath of Bhin is nothing to scoff at. In one evening it seems, you managed to help bring me joy and turned my life around from unrequited mope to hopeful in love. I have a parrtner now and you to thank!" He squeezed Lissoli's hand who smiled at him. 

"I don't have much to offer you, but I want to give you something from my mother's people." He took off what must have been a bracelet normally on him, and handed it to Ironica. It looked like a braid of dried seaweed, the stringy type with the pods. 

"They call it knotted wrack, and you can wear it as a necklace. If you bite into one of the pods and drink the oily substance inside you will be able to breathe underwater for a time!" 

"Thank you for bringing us love, Ironica." Lissoli said and gave her a squeeze before turning into her room with Laurie. 

Dala'gse went back to stand guard at Heathayla's chamber. Ironica went to bed with her new prize. 

Safad and Slothrop found themselves atop the inn for the tenday stargaze. As they looked around they heard the Night Wing Wexin tell his tale of how he first founded the Star-throp. It was a spring night much like this one, some twenty five years ago, when he met one of the most remarkable friends he ever knew. It was a dark elf, whose name he never learned. They spent the whole evening together drinking and carrying on, becoming friends with Wexin's pet bat. Before they knew it, they wound up hammered atop the inn, sharing a bottle of peatsmoke and trying to communicate with each other. The dark elf told him a tale of how all the young dark elves make a sojourn to the surface as a rite of passage. When they do, they wait for nightfall and see the stars for the first time. He said the dark elf kept calling it "Star-throp" and so together they founded the event. 

Safad seemed to think Star-throp sounded a lot like Slothrop, but said nothing and spiked his Red Tusk brewed chocolate with the peatsmoke and clinked mugs with Lasstur. But for Slothrop, it clicked. He remembered. Yes, he had been very drunk, and high on Nancy's mushrooms from Myth Sveldin to boot. It was him, he had been here with that little goblin Wexin. He didn't remember any of the rest besides telling him his name was Slothrop, but hey. 

Out of the crowd, he approached Wexin, and in typical Slothrop fashion, played the shit out of it. 

"Wexin, tis I, your old friend! Here to surprise you on the 25th anniversary of our encounter!" 

Wexin's eyes went wide as he took in the look of the dark elf, who had barely aged in that time. He ran at the dark elf, smiled and embraced him. The crowd cheered and poured more peatsmoke and chocolate. The "old friends" gazed once more at the stars. 

Safad drifted off by himself to look into the night sky, the sounds of merriment fading behind him. His eyes wandered over the familiar constellations, stopping first on his mark of the Goddess, the Shepherd, but then moving on to the Stag, the Heron, the Dagger, the Maiden, the Cross, and the Ancestor. As he did, he could swear that holding them all in an unfocused gaze he could almost make out the shape of a woman's face, smiling down at him. He felt comforted, and warm. 

The party eventually returned to their chambers and bedded down to get some rest before their journey in the morning.