Savage Portland

Cerat's Musings, Part I

I arose today and went to meet with Theldrat Meldorp about his books around the hour of 8 bells. Having no trouble finding the neighbourhood, I arrived at what appeared to be his shoppe, only to find a woman inside with rather a large bag slung over her shoulder. After inquiring as to the location to make certain I was correct, she responded that this was, in point of fact, her shoppe, and furthermore that she had never even heard of Master Theldrat. I most humbly apologized and crossed the street to a tavern where several strangers were breaking their fasts.

Approaching one of the gentlemen, I asked whither the shoppe I was searching for might be and he informed me that I was, in fact, standing across the street from it. By this time, others were noticing the queer actions of the woman inside, and wandering over I attempted to get a passing Half-Elf to run and alert the Watch. The insolent man simply ran around the house to where there had been heard a large ruckus. I pursued him to attempt to send him off for the watch, and wound up descrying a Halfling through the closed window, endeavouring to hide in the shadows under its sill.

Finally, Master Theldrat arrived and we attempted to explain the situation to him. By this point, the woman was sobbing and trying to blame the whole matter on we who had attempted to redress the grievance we saw. But, as soon as a place was cleared in the front of the shoppe, she attempted to steal away into the early morning. One of the men standing near stabbed hear through the shoulder with a dagger, and she was soon lying unconscious in the road. While she was being bound, the Halfling also attempted to escape and was similarly subdued.

As the pair of would-be thieves amoke, a new round of questioning began and more turmoil (and probably a headache on Master Theldrat’s part) ensued. Master Theldrat noticed that a certain key which had been his inheritance was stolen and we questioned the prisoners about it.

We learned from the prisoners that there was a third member of their expedition, a certain Half-Orc named Irontusk. Master Theldrat entreated our group to go after the criminal and we pursued his scent to the docks, where he was descried loading crates onto a boat. Our motley crew gave chase and the Half-Orc bounded away across the wharf.

What followed next was a haze of feathers, fire and battle. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as we pursued the Half-Orc who we assumed held the Master’s precious key. Slipping on boats and jumping gaps between the barges, I managed to land in the boat where he was attempting to escape. Unfortunately, a single smash from the Half-Orc’s club sent stars spinning around my head.

When I came to my senses, the Half-Orc was unconscious on the deck of a borrowed fishing boat. Turij owns a cart, and using it we were able to bring Irontusk back to Master Theldrat’s shoppe. Chained in irons, we questioned the prisoner, who did not have the key on him. Through him, we learned that there is an organisation he works for called the Green Dagger Gang. I have impressed upon our Halfling the need to reclaim his honour by following the Half-Orc to see what leads that may turn up. Sending them off together may not have been a wise decision.

Upon further study of the blank book entrusted to me by my last teacher at the Academie, I have learned that it is indeed already prepared for the recording of magical spells. The ink as well seems to be devoted to this purpose, and so I have to begin another letter of thanks to the old man for such an amazing gift.

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