Balderston was the perfect place for a con, considered the trickster as he walked through the side streets of the city, away from the main festival square. Like the minotaur, Al had separated himself from the main group in order to see what was happening away from the main attractions. Usually, that was where the interesting things happened. On one street, the dragonborn had come across a fortune teller reading cards, joyously taking advantage of gullible passersby. Further along, an alleyway between two shops was home to a dice game where a small kobold was taking some kids’ festival money. There were so many people here for this festival with gold to spend and no way to tell an honest merchant from a scam artist.

Not that he faulted them at all. Now that Al knew about the strange field keeping peace, he understood even more why the types of criminal activity he had witnessed were always so minor. Any attempt to truly cause harm would have been suppressed, most likely. The dragonborn shook his head, still not really wanting to accept the control that was being exerted everywhere. Free will had to still be a thing, right?

Up until this point, Al had been having no luck finding the doppelganger’s contact in town. There were so many people it made the job ten times harder. Even if it hadn’t been busy, Al had no idea what they were really looking for. He was beginning to give up when the chaos broke out, the side streets filling with tourists and villagers alike running away from the main square. Worried for his companions, Al broke into a run, pushing against the tide of festival-goers with his large frame. When he arrived in the square, Al took one look around at the horror show before him and quickly identified something wrong. Well, something ELSE that was wrong. There was one individual, a merchant perhaps, who was standing calmly amidst the shouting and running, staring at something across the square.

Al immediately stopped pushing against the fleeing crowd and decided to blend in with those running away in order to find his way around the buildings and behind the robed individual. From a more hidden vantage point, the dragonborn noticed horns sticking out from the robe’s hood, and a reddish tint to the skin. Tiefling, perhaps? The figure seemed to be male and dressed like a sorceror or a warlock would, lacking some of the gear he had seen on Flynver’s person. The target’s eyes were completely focused on a bakery on the other side of the street where broken glass was spread out in front of the main display window. Al watched as a dwarf climbed through the window to stand in front of the shop, scanning the crowd. It was Brylla! What had happened at this shop?

The dwarf’s eyes scanned the crowd, looking for something, but did not notice Al hidden behind some rain barrels. Al was tempted to get Brylla’s attention, but was worried it might reveal himself to his target. The cleric needed no help, though, as her eyes landed on the robed figure as well, who immediately began trying to blend into the crowd after having been seen. The dragonborn pursued, as quickly as was possible without becoming obvious. This tiefling was definitely up to something!

Ransacked

On the far side of town, far from the square, Flynver finally caught up with the tired alchemist, who held himself up against the wall with one hand, leaning to catch his breath.

“Where’s the shop?” barked Flynver, forcing the alchemist to keep moving.

Stumbling as he followed the halfling down the street, Viktor pointed towards the end of the row of low structures that bordered the lane. As they arrived at the building, Flynver passed beneath the weathered sign that read “Maestro’s Magnificient Magics” and found himself in a dark shop that had been completely torn apart. The glass of several broken vials and potion bottles were scattered across the floor, with glowing liquids puddled at various points in the ransacked shop. Furniture was broken apart, pillows were slashed, books and records were strewn across the floor, and a large dresser was leaning across the room, tipped over from its previous position against the far wall.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no…” worriedly muttered the alchemist as he took in the remains of his shop. He picked up what was left of his potion-making workbench, staring with eyes wide at the apparatus in pieces in his hands, before letting them clatter to the table top.

“Focus up, Maestro” urged the halfling, trying to get his attention. “Where’s the thing we need to reverse the potions?”

The alchemist turned his focus to the halfling, distractedly taking in the question, before his eyes became aware again of what was happening. He quickly looked around, rushing to the tall dresser leaning across the room. On the floor at the base of the dresser was a large board which had been ripped off the back, revealing a secret storage compartment. Viktor’s face fell.

“It’s gone. Everything’s gone” said the alchemist, a tone of despair and a bit of panic creeping in. “My recipes and formulas, everything we would have needed for making a cure. Who could have done this?”

Flynver scanned the room, looking for any clues that might lead them to the culprit. He was beginning to think the alchemist might not have been involved in whatever happened in the square. Somebody was clearly trying to put him out of business, permanently. On the floor, the wizard found a flyer advertising a new shop: “Thimbleheart’s Alchemy and Apparel”, along with a note congratulating the entrepreneur on their grand opening. Flynver passed the papers over to Viktor, who read them with a shocked face.

“Holt was always a great apprentice! I would have gladly supported him in opening his own shop. Why would he feel the need to go to such lengths?”

Flynver ignored the alchemists ramblings, focusing instead on finding whomever it was that had taken the alchemist’s files. Going out into the street, the halfling paid close attention to the ground, looking for a trail. Sure enough, whomever had been in the shop had walked through the spilled liquids and had left a bit of a wet trail, very fresh.

“Where would Holt be staying?” the halfling asked of the alchemist while trying to find the next set of tracks.

“Holt’s place is a bit outside of town” answered Viktor, trying to collect himself. “He would usually stay at the inn, instead, during festival days. It saved on a lot of back and forth during the week. But it’s the other way, there are only more shops and businesses this direction.”

The wizard kept focused on the tracks on the ground, following them as quickly as possible. They couldn’t be far behind whomever had left them. Even if their target wasn’t headed towards the inn, perhaps the culprit had another place to stash things away. As they rounded a corner, Flynver spotted a squat figure up ahead, pulling aside a grate in the street. Viktor recognized his apprentice immediately, shouting out to him as they ran forward. The dwarf’s face looked back at them in surprise, eyes going wide, before hurriedly disappearing below the streets. The chase was on!

The Chase

Brylla saw their halfling companion far ahead of them, rushing alongside the alchemist, headed toward an opened sewer entrance in the streets. She and the others had been told by the minotaur that Flynver had been headed this way but they had not expected to catch up to the wizard! As the wizard clambered down into the sewer tunnels below, Tanthalas and Audak leaped down, trying to catch up to the rushing halfling. As Brylla climbed down the ladder quickly, she noticed that the tunnels here in Balderston were much more modern than the broken down stone tunnels below Denn. There was no overpowering smell in these access tunnels and it appeared as if the city had installed metal pipes to channel the sewage along the way instead of using an open gutter system. It certainly made for a more pleasant experience coming down below the streets!

Ahead of them, the sounds of slapping leather boots echoed through the tunnels. Brylla still wasn’t sure why they were chasing this person, but if Flynver was moving this quickly it must be important. They pressed on through the dark tunnels, chasing the sounds of boots ahead. Flynver rounded the first turn, still slightly ahead of the rest of them, and then suddenly skidded to a stop and leaped back.

“WATCH OUT!” cried out the halfling, as the others caught up to the corner.

Brylla pressed herself to the wall as an enormous fireball filled the tunnel around the corner, blasting outwards towards them. The already warm air of the tunnels suddenly became extremely hot as the flames licked close to their faces. Peering around the corner, Flynver noticed the dwarf rushing away again, fumbling in a pocket for something else to slow the pursuers.

“Can I get a lift?” asked the halfling, looking around at his larger friends. Audak simply raised an eyebrow, his head nearly at the ceiling of the low tunnels, and Brylla was having none of it. Tanthalas, however, grabbed the wizard as he ran forward, the elf tossing the halfling upon his back as they continued the chase. Flynver tried to hurl his arcane magics at their target as they went. Whatever tricks the fleeing dwarf might have up his sleeve, Brylla was confident they were ready for them!

It’s not the fall, it’s the sudden stop

Back in the streets, another pursuer had just arrived at the entrance to the sewer tunnels. The horned individual was peering in, listening to what was happening below. The sudden explosion surprised the cloaked figure, whose eyes widened in shock, but then an impact struck them from behind sending them forward towards the lip of the access ladder. A gasp of shock escaped their mouth as they reached out for a rung on the ladder, trying to stop their fall. Their fingers grasped at the air in vain, before landing face first on the hard stone floor of the tunnel. Rolling over onto their back, excruciating pain surged through their face and neck. The horns of their disguise had cracked and one was hanging limply off the side of their skull. Based on the pain, they were fairly certain their nose was also broken. The sunlight streamed down from the opening above, the only light down here in the dark service tunnels, until it was suddenly blocked out by a large frame leaping down from above. The towering figure, shadowy and backlit, looked like one of the dragons of old, though standing upright like a man. In the dim light, they could see a glint of light reflecting off rows of sharp teeth. There was only time to raise one hand up in defence before the world disappeared into blackness.

Al looked down at the figure at his feet. The cracking makeup and broken horns made it clear that this person had been disguised as a tiefling warlock. Based on the way they had been running through the streets, Al figured they had to be a guild member, but there was something else too. The dragonborn had recognized the technique used for a high-speed pursuit. Not just similar to his own, but nearly exactly the same. This mystery figure must had been trained by his old mentor, or one of their students!

Kneeling down for a closer look, his suspicions were confirmed as he found a guild mark on the belt, matching to the one they had seen on the messages in the hideout. With a sigh, Al slung the body over his shoulder, hurrying forward down the tunnel in search of his companions. As the figure’s body shifted on his shoulder, he could tell that what he had taken to be a male tiefling was much more likely to be female, and possibly an elf if those ears were any indication. A well-done disguise, for certain, and one that would have passed most common checks. An arcane illusion would have held up better to the slamming into the tunnel floor, though!

Based on the sounds ahead, Al wasn’t far behind the action. Sprinting forward, using that same technique his old mentor had taught him, the rogue dashed through tunnel after tunnel, finding the signs of his companions passing along the way. Finally, Al saw the small wizardly figure of his companion Flynver up ahead who was waving him forward, trying to catch up to the others. The wizard was wiping something sticky off of his staff while muttering curses at the tunnel floors. When they arrived near the end of this branch of the tunnels, a steel door stood open before them with the sounds of crashing barrels and shouts coming from the other side. What was it they always said about being fashionably late to the party?

Magic by the barrel

When Audak first entered the underground workshop, the chemical smell assaulted his senses. His allies were already charging towards a wall of barrels where an enormous dwarf was roaring in defiance. It seemed that Holt Thimbleheart had taken some of his own supply and had suddenly grown to a size even larger than the goliath himself! Barrels flew through the air as the enormous gold dwarf launched the full wooden casks, their contents shattering on impact. Tanthalas and Brylla were already launching multiple attacks, but the dwarf simply shrugged it off and swung back harder!

Charging forward fearlessly, the barbarian brought his full strength to bear, trying to bring down the mastermind behind the festival’s chaos. The contorted grimace on the dwarf’s face gave Audak hope, but the dwarf suddenly grabbed him by the legs and swung him in a circle, tossing him clear across the room. Sailing through the air, the barbarian had a moment to notice the giant open vats in the corner, approaching him at high speed. As he struck the glowing liquid he was quickly submerged and a strange feeling coming over him on contact with the highly magical substance. He came up sputtering, getting his head above the liquid only to feel his entire body begin to tear at itself, stretching and warping into something else. Audak was forced to scream out in pain as his jaw forced open and began stretching out, his face distorting as pain coursed through him.

When the barbarian finally pulled himself out of the vat and set his eyes again on the hulking dwarf, his limbs felt wrong and he looked down to see claws and fur, and a tail swishing around his legs. His face was now elongated, his senses heightened, and Audak had an irritating urge to wiggle his now-protruding nose. Over all of that, though, was the immense rage he felt. Audak surged forward, his axe held high and his many-toothed maw snarling.

His allies stared in alarm as the wererat that was once their friend tore into the dwarf, the greataxe cutting the dwarf down to the ground, ending the threat. The now-rodent-like son of Vogath stood over his enemy, breathing heavily with a snarling face. The others left the barbarian to collect himself as they began to look about and find out what Holt had been up to.

The wizard and ranger searched through the dead dwarf’s desk, finding little other than the usual tools of the trade and some crafted finery that the alchemist-turned-tailor had come up with. Viktor’s recipes were in Holt’s pockets, though, which meant they had one part of the solution. On the work tables, a pile caught the halfling’s eyes with its familiar violet hue and embroidered symbol… the same robes as worn by those in the ruins near Greenfell! Even if this dwarf hadn’t been a cultist himself, at the very least he was supplying them with their robes. Based on his actions today, it also seemed that Thimbleheart had some form of immunity to the field they had learned about. Perhaps this was what the dragon had been warning them of? The possible dangers of immunity? Was this the reason the tribe observers’ handler was stuck in Balderston?

Speaking of the handler, after Al explained things it seemed obvious to the rest that the unconscious form that the dragonborn had carried into the room must have been the one they had been looking for. The disguised elf wasn’t going to be able to speak to anyone at the moment, though, and there were very few clues in their possession other than a blue sapphire that seemed to have some sort of magical property. Some questions were going to need to be answered when they came to.

“What happened in here?!?” shouted Viktor as he finally caught up to the heroes. “Oh no, Holt. Why? Wait… is that my book?”

Tanthalas handed over the recipes, pressing the alchemist for the solution.

“It’s going to take some time” the alchemist said, seeming rushed as he pushed items around on Holt’s work tables. “Here we are… get one of those vats and empty it out, we need to get working right away!”

Brylla and Flynver looked at each other at the mention of the time it would take. It wouldn’t be long now before the potion’s adverse affects would hit them. Hopefully a cure would be finished soon!

Credits

• Story credit: Storyline inspired by the random encounter “Presto Change-o”, from “The Game Master’s Book of Random Encounters” by Jeff Ashworth
• Cover image: “Gold dwarf”, generated by Jason St-Cyr using NightCafe