The storage bunker stood before them, it’s strange watching-eye-boxes peering around the street. From their vantage point in an alleyway, the crew considered their options.

“Perhaps we could make a distraction and then sneak in?”

“Why don’t we just wait and see who comes here?”

“I could probably set the place on fire!”

The group turned to look at their tortle companion with surprise, wondering if this was really the best way to go about things. Before they could do much more brainstorming they were interrupted by a man in a lab coat who was walking by.

“Excuse me, but can I help you?” asked the scientist, spotting the elf who was trying to climb a building in broad daylight.

“We lost our keys” fibbed Duanne, turning on the tortle charm. Thora always wondered how anybody could believe anything the wizard said, but it always seemed to work!

“Such a pity, I do hope you find them” the scientist replied, taking his glasses off to wipe them with the edge of his coat. “I am Professor Manfrad Defear, at your service. You must be new here, we don’t often get visitors near our storage facility.”

Thora was sure they were going to be found out, but Duanne continued to baffle the gods of luck and managed to extract a little information from the dear professor. Apparently, other than being a scientist working for the city, he had now become a sort of overseer in charge of the elemental recovery and rescue team. Professor Defear explained how all life in Rhime was powered by the elements from different elemental planes, including Thora’s own people.

“Do you mean that the old myths of the dwarves coming from stone are true?” asked Thora, incredulously. Thora had read such things in Beka’s library, but had always chalked it up to the folk tales of the elders.

“Yes, from the earth, which we refer to as Terra, though some of your people are from even further down, born of fire.”

Thora listened with rapt attention, completely entranced by the idea of each person being so tied to the elements. Is that what happened with Duanne? Was water somehow a part of the wizard’s essence?

“As much as I enjoy a discussion on the finer elemental details, I must be moving along” stated the professor, trying to politely back away. “On top of everything else, the recent mayor’s scandal has me needing to act as an interim liaison for public affairs, and with all the people going missing, it’s quite the task.”

At the mention of this, Thora raised an eyebrow and noticed that the others had also focused their attention in. Some sort of chaos was interfering with a lot of what should be in Rhime, leading to the Enkyrian Empire opening their doors to others in hope of finding heroes to help save the world, but right now the scientist seemed more concerned with getting help with handling the missing person reports. After showing their credentials as heroes, thanks to Sheriff Deen’s kind writing of their exploits, the professor invited them back to his lab.

Thora had not been sure what to expect, but the drab and sanitized feeling of the building was so unlike the styles the dwarf was accustomed to. There seemed to be no life in these halls, just minimal functional design. No art, no books, just gray. Sliding into the professor’s work room, Thora saw desks and at least another sign of life in the professor’s assistant, Roderick. Papers were strewn all across the professor’s desk in a haphazard manner along with folders of reports of the missing individuals. While the professor went over the details of who had gone missing and what their pay would be to help with this particular problem, Thora slipped one of the loose papers off the desk and into a storage fold in the dwarf’s cloak. No time to check it now, but it would be good to know more about what these “scientists” were working on.

Canvassing the neighbourhood

Leaving the lab behind with a pile of missing person’s reports, Thora followed the others to back to the encampments on the western side of the city. This part of the city seemed to meld into the countryside around it, fields and hills and swamps and rivers weaving around homes and businesses that had built up next to each other over the decades. It was less of a planned town and more like several villages that had erupted next to each other.

A small kobold approached them, hawking the wonderful food and drink of the Leatherback tavern, pointing them towards a swampier area of the encampments. On the way, they passed through a forested area inhabited by many different types of people, though there was a dominant presence of elven folk here. Thora had never noticed before how each elf seemed to be so different from one other. Of the elven people, the dwarf had really only known Zearach well. However, seeing so many in the same place really highlighted the differences in dress, stances, styles, even skin colours. Of course, within the dwarven community you could tell one from another but there was a lot more cultural force for uniformity. Those that deviated from the standards of the tribe were often ostracized, or at the very least mocked behind their back. Thora knew that part all too well.

While they were in the forest, they stopped by a nearby inn with the name Willow Sparkle above the wooden entryway. The inside of the inn was brighter than the daylight of outside, with everything seeming to sparkle with a jaunty energy. The air was filled with sugary sweet smells. It was certainly a good spot for them to enjoy a meal while trying to get some information from the local leader Yolandrin. The menu was certainly wide-ranging, like their guests, but Thora settled on trying what Zearach was ordering – the essences of an autumn evening. The dwarf had no idea what to expect, and the reptilians in the party decided to go with a more reliable stew order. When the servings came, Zearach breathed in deeply, describing to Thora a childhood memory of walking through the leaves. The dwarf had never done such a thing, so breathed in and was completely overwhelmed by the sensations. Somehow there was a crispness to the scent, with an earthy smell that reminded the soldier of the mountains. It was not a filling meal for the belly, but it was an experience that Thora was glad to have had.

After the meal, the investigative work began. Zearach was able to speak with Yolandrin and get some more details around the disapperances, including an elven musician named Daneastra who had taken off to find employment but had never been heard from again. Those who had gone missing seemed to be from all walks of life. A dragonborn blacksmith, a halfgoblin cardplayer, even a young kobold. Some were looking for amusement, others for work, but there didn’t seem to be a particularly common thread.

Thanking the elf for the hospitality, the group decided to split up to cover more ground. Zearach would speak with the orcs, Duanne and Alandal would head to the Leatherback in the swamp, and Thora would head for the encampment of the dwarves. When Thora arrived, the leader of the clan, Rockshard Ironfist, was excited to see a fellow mountain dwarf this far south and glad that “one of their own” was looking into the disappearances. It was strange how natural it felt to be among strangers of your own kind, who understood what it was like to be a dwarf, who knew the history. Thora had felt that way upon meeting the miners the other week, and again that feeling came back. It was a little reminder of home for the travelling dwarf who had not seen family in quite some time.

Thora pushed straight through to business, though, knowing that the others would need to meet up soon. Over the last week there had been two disappearances which led Rockshard to close ranks to prevent further losses. Both of the missing dwarves were a little different than the others in the camp. Topaz Bittyhammer was a toy-crafter, partially descended from gnomes, and Skyfire Azerson was one of the rare dwarfs with more of a fire heritage who sported one of those distinctive flaming red beards. Thora couldn’t help but think back to the things the professor had said and wonder if there had been something related to the elementals here.

The dwarf thanked Ironfist for the hospitality and the information and headed back to their agreed meeting place at the Willow Sparkle inn and tavern. On the walk back, Thora found it curious that both Topaz and Skyfire had interests that would align well with the fair grounds, which also seemed to match up well to some of the others that had gone missing from the forest. The other’s had no particularly solid leads on a next location, but with so many leads pointing towards the fair grounds it seemed the logical first place to look.

The fair grounds

When they arrived at the fair grounds, it was like nothing Thora had ever seen. All around them were giant rides, children laughing, people milling about, street performers, games of chance… a complete overpowering of the senses! The smells coming from the various shouting food vendors filled the dwarf’s nose with a confusing mixture of odours, making the underfed soldier a wee bit hungry. Unfortunately, they were here on “official city business” and needed to focus. It would do none of the missing citizens any good for them to distract themselves!

While Duanne went to talk to a vendor about exotic painted rocks, Zearach had found a gnome trinket master who was hawking his wares at a small stand in the walkway. The tiny man had a variety of clockwork trinkets, some of which he was actively working on as the crew approached. Thora remembered the partly gnomish dwarf that had gone missing, somebody who might have been interested in the same type of things as this vendor. Sure enough, when asked, the tinker remembered the dwarf, Topaz Bittyhammer, coming by to talk shop. According to the gnome, they had been planning on working together but it had been getting late so Topaz had gone to get some rest at a hotel nearby, never to return. While not enough detail for them to find Topaz’s hotel, it at least did confirm for Thora that they were on the right trail.

Thanking the gnome, the crew pushed deeper into the fair grounds. Thora admired a sparring ring which seemed like a good diversion, but this wasn’t the right time for friendly wrestling. Further down the lane, though, Zearach pointed out an interesting story challenge. Dubbed a “liar’s competition”, the audience would rank the story told on its originality, how incredible it might be, or how believable. Alandal, ever a story teller, could not pass up the chance to enter the challenge! Despite their more pressing business, the bard decided to attempt to weave a great tale of adventure and heroics, trying to turn his entry fee into some small prize winnings. The crowd seemed to be starting to get into his tale, but unfortunately his tale was not quite enough to displace the current leader. The reactions from the crowd, however, gave Thora an idea.

The dwarf passed a few silver over to the contest manager to pay the entry fee and took to the stage. Thora was no bard like his dragonborn friend, but the soldier had other plans. Just as the dwarf would do when recounting the days of military service below the mountain, Thora began to weave a tale recounting the poor fortunes of those who would visit the fair grounds, only to be lost forever and never seen again. The story was a bit over the top and lacked the flair that Alandal could have given it, but the real focus was on watching the audience’s reaction. Most were bored or disinterested at first, but one goblin was absolutely apoplectic. His enraged heckles turned the crowd on Thora, triggering a volley of thrown debris. A red shape flew through the air at the dwarf, but Thora ignored it, focusing on the goblin, trying not to lose him in the crowd. For a moment, Thora’s vision went red as the tomato exploded across the soldier’s face and beard, but was wiped away quickly as Thora bowed to the crowd, eyes always on the goblin.

The little figure stormed off in a huff, still muttering something about Thora’s performance. Thora pointed the goblin out to the others from his group and the elf nodded and began tailing their target. It wasn’t long before they followed the little angry muttering goblin to a tavern and watched him bust through the front door and stomp over to the bar. Thora decided to stay outside and allow the others to investigate as the sight of the dwarf would no doubt further anger the little guy. From outside, Thora couldn’t overhear the conversation, but by peeking through a window the soldier could tell that Zearach was getting an earful about Thora’s story.

It was impossible to hear what the elf said, but it was clear that the ranger’s words were working to calm the goblin down. His arms stopped swinging around wildly and instead the little guy hunched over his drink, wearing a more somber face. Zearach later told Thora that the goblin was a friend of Colom, the halfgoblin that had gone missing. Apparently the two of them were going to start a business together after celebratory drinks in the tavern, but Colom was suddenly gone the next day, and nobody seemed to care when one of his kind went missing. Thora understood now why the little goblin had been so upset. The most important tidbit that the elf had learned, however, was that the plan had been for Colom to stay at a hotel nearby, usually meant for tourists. The Happy Magic hotel was apparently at the end of the boardwalk, right past the Tarrasque ride.

Gathering together again outside the tavern, the foursome pushed down the boardwalk, side-by-side, striding with purpose towards the giant ride that towered above everyone. Thora’s head tilted, a crack sounding out as the dwarf stretched, preparing for what would come next. The folks at the Happy Magic hotel were going to need a VERY good explanation for what’s happening.

You can check out, but you can never leave

Under the shadow of The Tarrasque ride, the welcoming doorway of the Happy Magic Hotel was open, inviting guests to enter its cozy lobby. A shelf of books was available for guests to enjoy, which distracted Thora from their goal for the moment. Perusing the literary works would hopefully assist the others in the deception of being simple tourists looking for a place to stay.

“Welcome, welcome, to the Happy Magic Hotel!” called out a voice from behind the lobby counter. Up to the check-in counter hopped an older halfling wearing a top hat. “PL Picklewither at your service! Ready for a magical stay?”

Thora couldn’t quite hear the others going back and forth over the details, but they managed to secure some adjacent rooms which would give them a place to start their investigation. On the shelves, Thora found a book named “Alice’s Adventures in Enkyrian Empire” which would hopefully provide a good read if things got dull.

Somehow, though, things never seemed dull for this group.

Arriving at their rooms, each of them did their best to look for any hidden devices or magical auras that might be used to trap or spy on them. So far they had found no evidence that this hotel was the place causing the disappearances of others, but it was their only lead. Fortunately, there wasn’t a lot of foot traffic on their floor which made it easy enough to explore and search through the halls and public rooms. The restrooms were average, no signs of anything amiss, and the other end of the floor featured a bathing room that seemed like a comfortable option should they need it later. However, in one of the common rooms they passed, a strange combination of statues drew Thora’s attention.

Several meters behind the statues, somewhere in the middle of the hotel, Duanne had sensed some form of magical aura. None of the hallways seemed to lead there, but it appeared to be on the other side of the wall behind the two statues. One of the statues depicted a young man, standing heroically, holding aloft a large club. The other was more alien. The head called to mind the kraken they had fought the other day, a squiddish sort of form with multiple tentacles. Thora didn’t know what this thing was, but the dwarf remembered stories of creatures that could suck the brains out of their victims.

“That’s an Illithid, dwarf” filled in Duanne, who was better studied on these creatures than Thora. “Ruthless things. These statues must refer to the myth of the young man from Rhime who travelled to Enker to learn of the way to defeat the monsters attacking his town, only to learn that the magic needed was within him all along. The young human channeled the magic through that club and allowed him to save his people from the Illithid.”

Gazing closely at the statues, Thora touched the club, only to find it jiggle under the pressure. Pulling gently, the dwarf was able to extract the club from the hands of the statue. How odd! What mechanism was being used here? Thora had enough experience to know there must be a logical reason for this, but it took some trial and effort to find out what was happening. The Illithid statue had a place to insert the club in the tentacles, but doing so didn’t seem to do anything. The scratch marks on the floor near the base of the statues indicated that there was some sort of motion required with the statues. Trying to push one seemed to do nothing. They were heavy! Duanne suggested that the heroes push together to reposition both statues.

As the statues were moved to their new positions, a door slid open in the wall, revealing a secret chamber. In the dark room before them were piles of various items. Clothing, letters, and other possessions were piled up in different areas of the room. The magic aura Duanne had been following emanated from a teddy bear in a pile of possessions. Were these from those that had gone missing? Had they actually taken a child?

Going through some of the letters and papers, Thora found a postcard from the fair grounds, the enormous Tarrasque ride featured prominently on it. The beautiful penmanship of the writer indicated a practiced hand, but the words said simply “Having so much fun here, sorry I had to leave so abruptly. I hope you understand there’s nothing left for me there. I love you, Danaestra”. The card had never had the chance to reach its recipient.

This was the evidence they needed to prove something had gone wrong here at the hotel. The missing persons had definitely had their final stay here. Soon after reading the postcard, Zearach came back to call Thora over. The elf’s normally stern face was somewhat more glum than usual as they went to an adjoining chamber. Multiple bodies lay on the floor, bled out, with a blood trail leading away towards a wall. Were these some of the poor unfortunate souls who had gone missing from the swamp encampment? The dwarf could do little but turn away from the sight, disgusted at whatever game the owners of this hotel were up to. Who would do such a thing to innocent people?

Thora’s face tightened, an uncomfortable feeling grabbing a hold. A wave of anger and frustration was building up, the desire to put a blade through some one or some thing becoming overpowering. The dwarf recognized the battle lust and focused, trying to keep a lid on the feelings for now. They needed to first find out who was behind this and confront them. With any luck, some of the missing might still be able to be saved.

Thora moved to lock down the secret door behind them, hoping to seal off the pathway behind them and conceal their intrusion.

“Wait, you’ll lock us in!” cautioned the elf.

“We’re not locked in here with them” stated Thora calmly, a calm confidence returning in the soldier’s voice, with a tinge of anger in the undertone.

“They’re locked in here with us.”

Credits

• Cover image: “Fair grounds”, generated by Jason St-Cyr using NightCafe