Day 30 – The dreams return

Out in the wilderness, on the 30th day since Gorion was killed, I had another dream. They had been few and far between since Imoen and I had gone west but this one was clear to me on waking. She said I was on the right path, and I was ready – baptised in the blood of the wilderness, it was time for me and Im to pick up the case again – Gorion’s killer was waiting for me. We were rich, we were strong, we had proved ourselves and our names were becoming known across the sword coast. Now, finally, we would be wrathful. I woke up and told Im that it was time. We walked the long journey back to Beregost with murder on our minds.

It didn’t help that on the way back we ran into these absolute ASSHOLES, In a world of shit I just can’t fucking stand rudeness, and these people were the WORST! I shit you not she called me a “Northern barbarian”. I mean COME ON do I look like a barbarian?!?!? I’m a fricking gnome in a wizard robe and if that wasn’t enough there’s a FUCKING FAMILIAR flapping around me. JFC are you fucking blind?! Phew, sorry, must remember to edit this later.

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no one talks to me like that. NO ONE

I can’t think of anyone else I’ve met so far that deserved what she got as much as this basic MFer. And I guess the ultimate humiliation was getting paralysed by my divine gifts then being slashed to pieces by a familiar, while my sister fills the rest of your loser crew with arrows. Dante was pretty stoked about that one ngl.

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How to keep your mephit familiar happy

Once we were near Beregost our first stop was High Hedge, the wizard tower – I was now a wealthy and powerful wizard but I needed spells. Lots more spells. I needed ALL the spells. I stocked up, and I could see Imoen looking pretty jelly like – she always liked magic but never wanted to sit down and apply herself – maybe she’ll pick it up at some point, magic owns.

In the end pretty much all utility spells: one to raise my charisma, one to raise my strength (fed up of struggling home with loot like a soggy noodle) Some illusion magic so I could do what that first assassin way back when could do – whats better than Arwen? Lots of Arwens! And a spell so I could make things invisible – what’s better than Dante? Invisible Dante! And that potion case I’d been eyeing up – wow its magic, all the potions put inside are effortlessly weightless, why the HELL did I not buy this earlier!

Then it was back into Beregost proper, it felt like an absolutely aaaaages since we were here. People look at us differently than before – they can see the value of our equipment and how dangerous we look. Two dangerous women and a little flapping familiar means don’t fuck with us. I could see people whispering when we walked past, people pointed us out in the square, I head mention of Nashkel.

There was one unfortunate thing, this man ran up to us in the square and pointed at a necklace I was wearing saying it belonged to his daughter who was missing. I had to think fast – yeah, the family ambushed by hobgoblins in the nashkel pass – so I pulled it off and told the tale of woe to the gathering crowd, how I had slain the hobgoblins but alas the family were already dead and I had taken the necklace to return it to its rightful owner. He was like, so grateful it was embarrassing. People actually, like literally, clapped and cheered. Of course I had to hand over the necklace, ouch, but Arwen’s quick thinking saves the day.

Second stop: sleeping, it was a long walk here. While we were deciding on a tavern/inn to patronage some little girl ambushed us to tell us that someone called Vai in the Jovial Juggler was looking for us. Child labour is apparently well established on the sword coast.

Sure, so whatever, we go to the Jovial Juggler. Turns out everyone in Beregost knows our names – Me and Imoen fricking solved the whole Iron crisis – apparently while we were out in the wilderness its been spreading like wildfire across the sword coast. We’re actual heroes. So much for fricking laying low until all this blows over! I’m starting to realise that being famous, rich and powerful is going to be tough, but that is a burden I am willing to bear, in exchange for being rich, famous and powerful. All the Inns now want a piece of us, “heroes” that we are, even the Red Sheaf was begging us to drink there, despite the mess we made last time – that’s what you get for being famous: forgiveness for broken bar furniture. But we stuck with the plan to go to the Juggler.

Then, I shit you not as we’re just trying to get to the damn jovial juggler, that ancient man we met on our flight to the Friendly Arm inn ambushes us straight after the little girl. He dropped a hint that he knew Gorion – but it was mixed in with a load of cryptic bullshit – out of my way old man I have sleeping to do.

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You know nothing of my burdens, old man

So we went to crash in the Jovial Juggler, might as well kill two birds with one stone, and this Vai the girl told us about comes right up and asks for our help. Turns out she’s OFFICER Vai, yeah, a flaming flaming fist – the literal COPS are asking for my help. Do your fucking jobs jeeeez! Obviously I am a smart genius who knows how to handle this so instead of getting angry I bought her a box of doughnuts and laid it on so thick I cannot believe she didn’t realise. Imoen kept snorting into her mug of beer but Vai didn’t notice that either. This must be some sort of comedy of errors or whatever. “Milk ‘em” I could see imoen mouthing at me from behind Vai.

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woop woop it’s the sound of the police

Anyway, she said beregost had been cut off from Balder’s Gate to the north by a plague of banditry that seemed to have come from nowhere, the Flaming Fists were overwhelmed so she was authorised to pay 50Gs for every bandit scalp she was brought. I did a MASSIVE double take there… did I, like, hear that right… Scalps? Like the skin and hair cut off the skull? FUCKING DISGUSTING. This woman was sick, but… she was also paying 50Gs per scalp. So… ok, let me think this through in writing, like idk, firstly: what is to stop someone just like scaping some randomers and claiming they are bandits? 50G is big money to most people. Secondly, are you fucking serious?!?! Like wow, rename them the Fucked-up Fists amirite. Imoen was miming being sick at this point. I just said yeah, sure, whatever, scalp some bandits, i hear you.

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WTF, seriously?

So that’s my diary all caught up to date – I’m gonna resume daily updates now we are back to sleeping in inns and not in a horrible tent, and I have access to a writing desk again, thank fuck. Imoen FINALLY left the common room and is now passed out drunk haha. Time to sleep, it was a long journey here.