Marco Volo

And so we get to the official "Marco Volo" campaign! It is a trilogy of strange friendship and deceit, of dangers around every corner and ambushes wherever your guard is down. But in strange places, good friends can be found. "Sounds like fun!", the players said, and they were right. So prepare for Marco Volo! These pages contain lots of information about the official Marco Volo trilogy, and in lots of cases I copied entire conversations from the campaign. I thought it would be fun to use them. Whatever you do: don't sue me please *wink*.



  • Waterdeep

  • An invitation

  • An agreement

  • At Sailor's Corner

  • Onwards

  • To the Way Inn

  • The Way Inn

    		•

    Waterdeep


    Waterdeep, City of Splendors. People have a way of thinking they saw it all before in this city. The disturbing part about this is: they are probably right. Waterdeep is by far the most important city in the North, perhaps even in the entire Realms. It lies in a very strategic place: mineral- rich lands to the north, Merchant kingdoms Amn and Calimshan to the South. In the east you have the kingdoms of the Inner Sea, and to the west sea kingdoms and entire fleets of traders.
    Waterdeep was named because of its natural deepwater harbour. Since it is at the centre of commercial crossroads, the City of Splendors grew big indeed. More than 100.000 people live here! Waterdeep is ruled by the Lords of Waterdeep, who rule the city with a firm but just grip. Nobody knows who the Lords are, since they are magically protected by the most powerful spells and their enchanted masks. Only one Lord is known at this time: Piergeiron the Paladinson, the Unmasked Lord. He chairs the Court, sometimes with other (masked) lords present. Nobody knows how many Lords there are exactly. Seven was the most people have ever seen together.
    Justice is swift in this city, but just, as I mentioned before. The Shadow Thieves have been driven out, as well as the Beholder crimelord Xanathar. Since anyone could be a Lord, unlawful people are automatically more careful. The very merchant you are trying to rob could be a Lord!
    It was in the middle of the month Kythorn, and in this gigantic city, that three unsuspecting adventurers stepped out of Al'Hara's mansion to take a look around...



    An invitation


    In which our adventurers encounter the infamous Marcus Wands, aka Marco Volo, and engage in a grand fight with the Waterdeep city Watch. This provides an amusing diversion, and an introduction to many famous adventurers, although under less pleasant circumstances than most of our heroes would like. Much exotic food and drink is sampled.

    'This city is huge!' Norlan said, with a bit of awe in his voice as they walked along the busy streets. The other two merely nodded. Arolas was not feeling very comfortable in here, between all these people. Goran, on the other hand, went out to the Temple of Oghma as soon as possible. The place where the God of Wisdom is worshipped would be the best place to find information about his quest, he thought, and he was correct. It was two days later when he returned, and smiling quite happily. He did find more information about the lost Hammer of Moradin. The quest was going slow, but progress was made nevertheless. With that happy thought, he returned to the Al'Hara mansion, where Alexander provided them with everything they wanted for an entire week. Norlan was happy as well, since all magical items were identified by the famous diviner Thomas Dasquin. The Ring of Delusion, however, continued to trouble him, and annoy the others.

    When Goran returned with his new- found information, a visitor was waiting for them. It was a lovely girl, and she had three small scrolls with her. Each of the adventurers received one. It was an invitation, written in a flowery and beguiling hand.

    Dear Norlan Ladro:
    In light of your recent adventuring success and the notoriety you have achieved, you are cordially invited to a gathering of adventurers at Mother Tathlorn's House of Pleasure and Healing. Festivities begin tomorrow night at sunset. Activities will include feasting, dancing, gaming and entertainment in a variety of appealing forms. The cost to you is nothing save the pleasure of your presence, and your friendly conversation with various notables from the city of Waterdeep. Please send your response back to me with the messenger.
    Best wishes,
    Mother Tathlorn
    Everyone received the same letter with their name on it. They all agreed it sounded like fun, and told the messenger they would be honoured to attend. She bowed politely and left. The next day, all of them prepared for a fun evening. They put on their best gear, except for Norlan, and went on their way to Gem Street. Alexander had told them that Mother Tathlorn organises events like this every year, to entertain the various nobles and adventurers around.

    Mother Tathlorn's House of Pleasure and Healing was probably the most famous of Waterdeep's several festhalls. A baroque, five- storied structure, Mother Tathlorn's establishment had been hung with garlands of flowers and greenery for the occasion. The way along Gem Street leading up to the house was lit with torches that provided soft light, reflecting off the towering walls of Castle Waterdeep, which stood nearby. They were not the first to arrive. Several parties of well- groomed nobles, resplended in rich velvets, brocades, and cloth of gold, walked along Gem Street or were loitering around the house's entrance, attended by servants of many races. They saw other adventurers arriving. They recognised the beautiful Loene of the Company of Crazed Venturers; the stern Velkor Minairr, leader of the Bloodaxe Mercenaries; Thorgal of the Evil- Slayers; and Darstul, a rogue in service to the Hunt. Norlan felt a little slighted that such significant individuals had been invited to the same feast as himself, the two others felt incredibly humble to be in such distinguished company. Marshaling their recources to meet the cream of of Waterdeep society, they entered the building.
    A stout, mature, and charming woman, Mother Tathlorn greeted them all by name and urged them to partake of the available refreshments. The interior had been completely redecorated. The bar had been removed, and tables added to accommodate the crowd. Servants scurried here and there, and everywhere there was the muted din of conversation.

    Some of the nobles even recognised the three of them and immediately started conversation. Norlan was given some dirty looks because of the "less than fancy" clothes he was wearing, but the nobles were happy to talk to his two well- dressed companions. Arolas was soon in a conversation about fighting with scimitars, normally a notorious weapon, and Goran was talking to another Dwarf about the religion of Moradin. Norlan was basically ignored until he grabbed Arolas' Bag of Holding and went upstairs to change into his fancy costume. After that, he quickly started talking to Darstul in thieves' cant, a secret language known to thieves. They saw Thorgal in conversation with a beautiful brunette who could only be Carina Darkmantle, but couldn't go over to talk because of all the people in the way. Another foppish noble broke off a conversation with Goran because "he saw someone who was important" instead. Goran was quite angry because of this, but didn't have time to protest because of the ringing of several bells. All the notables were summoned for dinner. Our friends seated themselves on a table near the entrance.

    As they prepared for dinner, a jaunty individual approached. He was tall and spare, moving with the grace of an acrobat. He was dressed in fanciful doublet and hose, and carried a lute on his back and a slim poignard at his side. At first they couldn't tell whether he was a nobleman or a fellow adventurer.
    'Hail, fellows!' he declared, bowing elaborately. 'Marco Volo, bard and traveler, at your service. I'm afraid all the seats at the other tables are taken. Mind if I join you? Thanks so much.' Before they could respond, Marco had seated himself at their table. He proved to be a very talkative companion. Very talkative even. He asked about their adventures, sure enough, but always interrupted with his own anecdotes, spinning tales of adventure in far- off lands, stories of ladies he had romanced, and so on. They listened to the fabulous (and unbelievable) tales while they feasted on the incredible food. Roast meat, unusual vegetables, exotic cheeses. All drank their fill of the incredible wines and ales too, of course.

    Marco took a long swig of wine from a golden goblet.
    'Oh, my friends, this is a grand night, is it not?' Picking up his lute, he declared: 'I must share my latest work with you. It's called "The Glorious Death of Sir Trolivus."' He strung his lute and launched into his song:

    "Sir Trolivus was a noble bold
    Of him were many stories told,
    He was brave as the knights of old
    His exploits brought him lots of gold."
    The song was absolutely ghastly, and several people around were looking over their shoulders to see where the hideous noise came from. Arolas raised one eyebrow, Norlan was happily humming along, and Goran tried to stop himself from knocking the man unconscious. Thankfully, before the song could go any further, Marco broke off with a squawk, looking behind them with wide eyes. They turned to look, and saw a squad of city watchmen approaching, clubs at the ready. One pointed towards their table and shouted:
    'There he is! You! You're under arrest in the name of the Lords of Waterdeep!' With that, Marco leapt onto the table, smashed the lead watchman over the head with his lute, then ran away towards an open window.
    'Delay them while I escape, friends!' he shouted over his shoulder to our heroes. 'I'll be back for you!' And with that, he leapt through the window. The eyes of the watch all turned toward the three adventurers. "Shit" was Norlan's only comment.

    'You! You are under arrest!' shouted one of the others, and he advanced towards the three startled adventurers. Norlan was already looking for something to use as a weapon, the other two silently agreed they would surrender and explain.
    '10 gold on the adventurers,' came a voice from the left.
    '15 on the watch,' replied another. A mug of ale was "accidentally" spilt on the place where the watchman advanced, and he tumbled to the ground quite painfully. Norlan took this as an oppertunity to try and run away, but the other watchmen spotted him easily.
    'STAND!' one of them shouted.
    'Hey! Not like this! I have 20 gold on them!' shouted some unknown man, and he hit the guard right on the jaw.
    'Now THAT bet is off dammit! I had 15 on the watch!' came another voice, and he jumped the other.

    A barfight!
    They were soon wrestling all over the floor, spilling beer and breaking tables. The room was filled with adventurers, and they don't like to stand by when exciting things happen... Soon, others joined in to make sure they would win their bets, and the entire place was one big arena. Goran and Arolas stood with their backs towards a wall, only defending themselves. Norlan, however, was all to eager to join in the barfight. A rumbling sound was heard in another room. Someone was casting spells! This was getting serious! Goran got his shield, which was conveniently hidden in his friend's Bag of Holding. Arolas jumped towards a table and broke off two legs, to defend himself better. Another guy broke off the other two legs and smiled at Arolas. Both had the same idea, it seemed. Arolas smiled back and was hit twice by the grinning man before he joined the fight once again. Arolas felt the new bump on his head and fought his way back towards Goran. Goran had a hard time defending himself with just the shield, but he managed.

    Norlan, however, was another case. He was hit by a massive club from a watchman and fell to the floor.
    'Surrender now,' the big man said, standing above Norlan. But he wasn't about to. He kicked the guard hard on his shins, totally neglecting the armour. The thief gasped with pain as he hit the hard leg, then another yelp of pain came as the guard let his club down on Norlan's head once more.
    'I believe you misunderstood me,' the watchman said with a straight face. 'Now, will you behave?' Norlan nodded and stretched out his arm. The watchman took his hand, ready to pull Norlan to his feet. But instead, Norlan pulled hard, trying to throw the guard over him. This time he didn't calculate: (1) the slippery floor, and (2) the weight of the victim. The guard stood firm and Norlan slided through his legs, being rewarded by another hit on the head. A dizzy Norlan was pulled to his feet and dragged towards the exit.

    The situation got more serious in the house, as spells were cast here and there, magical weapons were drawn and prayers were spoken to call for Godly powers. Goran and Arolas had a busy job defending themselves. Arolas felt something on his left side and saw a Halfling trying to pick his pockets!
    'Oops, caught,' the little guy said. 'Can't win 'em all, I guess. Bye!' and with a grin, he ran away. Arolas shook his head. This was chaos. They needed the exit fast.
    'By the Lords of Waterdeep, you are under arrest. Will you come quietly?' Goran turned towards the voice and nodded.
    'We didn't do anything, sir. We are merely defending ourselves.'
    'I can see that, but you must still come along. I hope you won't put up a fight?' Both of them said they wouldn't and they started to make a way to the exit, which seemed to take ages. Outside, Norlan was getting to his senses, and quite furious.
    'Silence!' one of the guards shouted, rubbing his blue eye. 'You will come with us to Castle Waterdeep! Your weapons are confiscated, you are under arrest for disturbing the peace and allying yourself with the wanted criminal.'
    'Weapons confiscated??' Goran spat. Arolas didn't feel like giving up his scimitars up, either.
    'Sir, "under arrest" does not mean "going on vacation". Now please give up your posessions. They will be quite safe, I assure you.'
    'If WE are going then YOU are taking that would- be Bard along as well! HE started this!!' Norlan shrieked, his face red with anger.
    'Gentlemen, I am NOT going to ask again! Now you are under arrest in the name of the Lords! You WILL come along whether you like it or not!'
    'NOT without that stupid out- of- tune singing bastard, we're not!' Then Norlan fell silent, completely frozen in place. He could just see some middle- aged woman coming up to the sergeant to talk to him. He could read lips, and it was clear she was saying something in their defence. Goran however, was not so keen on going along and started shouting something about "unfair laws" before he and Arolas were stunned as well, and dragged towards the cells of Castle Waterdeep.




    An agreement


    In which the doughty adventurers make the acquaintance of a most influencal individual, who makes them an offer of employment - one they are well advised to accept - in addition serving them fine wines.

    After two days enjoying Castle Waterdeep' hospitality, they knew all the rats on a first- name basis and they might have been starting to develop a taste for gruel. Unfortunately, with a rattle and a squeak, the door grinded open, interrupting their holiday. A grim- faced man in wizard's robes stood in the doorway. He leaded a party of Waterdeep Guards - not watchmen - who were all clad in scale armour and well armed.
    'Charges against you have been dropped,' he said. 'Come.' And so they came along. They were led up winding dungeon stairs until finally they arrived outside the castle. It was night and a light rain was falling. Waiting nearby was a covered coach drawn by a half- dozen black horses.
    'Get in,' the wizard snapped. 'Your possessions are inside. Now get out of my sight.'
    'Is this the way law is served in Waterdeep!?' Goran asked, his face red with anger.
    'Sir, I do not wish to discuss the law with you right now. You can look it up whenever you want but I don't feel like standing out in the rain in the middle of the night. You were all arrested because you were adressed as "friends" to the criminal we were looking for, and witnesses said you helped him get away by starting the brawl at Mother Tathlorn's. Other witnesses said otherwise, and so the case was investigated. Now you are free and all your stuff is inside. Goodbye.' With that, he turned around.

    'I am gonna turn Waterdeep upside down and strangle that Volo character to death,' Norlan said angrily, for the tenth time since they were arrested. 'Then I'm gonna find some priests and let them resurrect him so I can kill him again.'
    Not in the best of moods, they got inside the coach and saw that indeed every single item was inside it. As soon as they were all inside, the coach lurched forward, picking up speed until it was fairly hurtling down the slick paving stones of Waterdeep Way. It was a bumpy ride. Between one reeling pitch and the next, they found their weapons and other possesions on the floor of the coach.
    Suddenly, the coach lurched left, slewing around to rumble down the High Road. With another wild turn, they were on Suldown Street - they thought. Finally, the coach rattled around yet another corner and clattered to a stop before an impressive walled mansion, throwing them to the floor in an undignified heap among their belongings.
    'Last stop! Everyone out!' they heard the driver shout.

    The massive oaken gates of the mansion opened with a creak as they stood there, getting drenched in the rain. A tall, dark- haired woman walked out, wrapped in a long, dark cloak against the falling rain. She was accompanied by a pair of huge armoured figures.
    'I am Olanhar Wands,' she said in a voice full of authority and confidence. 'My father, Maskar, wishes to speak with you.'
    'Who?' Norlan asked.
    'Maskar Wands, sir. Let us go inside. It's warmer, and most certainly dryer.' She turned around and walked back through the gates.
    'What do we do now?' Arolas asked the others. 'See what they want from us?'
    'Why not?' Goran replied. 'She's right. It's cold and wet out here, and we have no idea where we are exactly. Let's follow her.' Olanhar lead them through the courtyard and past several outbuildings to the main structure. The Wands' palatial manse rose at least five stories, and sported twin towers over a large central chamber. Wordlessly, she opened the front door and ushered them inside. Norlan had just enough time to realise the two armoured figures were actually iron golems before they stepped inside the mansion.
    They followed her through a vast marble entry hall, up a sweeping staircase, down a short gallery and finally to a small room containing several couches and chairs.
    'Make yourself comfortable,' she said. "My father will be here in a few moments.' As they sat down, servants took their wet cloaks and offered them refreshment. The wine was quite good, and so their mood improved a bit. They asked Olanhar a few questions, but she merely answered her father would answer any questions they had. After about five minutes, a wisened, balding man entered and sat down in an opposite seat.


    Olanhar and Maskar Wands

    		 The man looked at each of them in turn, and they felt somewhat like a prize horse being appraised by a potential owner.
    'So, you are the individuals involved in the brawl at Mother Tathlorn's two days ago. My name is Masker Wands. You remember, perhaps, an individual who called himself -hmph- "Marco Volo"?' In response to their chorus of condemnation, he raised his hand and asked for silence.
    'He is known to me. His real name is Marcus Wands. He is my grandson. Olanhar here is his aunt.'
    Olanhar spoke: 'He shames our family with his foolishness.' Maskar nodded in agreement with her.
    'He rejects his responsibilities to our family in favour of a life of -hmph- "adventure". Adventure! Leave adventure to the likes of the Harpers and that peacock Elminster.' He stood up and began to pace.
    'I tolerate Marcus and his youthful indulgences, but he goes too far. He wanders Faerūn, singing his songs, romancing his women, drinking his wine... Such things I accept, though I do not approve. But I cannot accept that he steals. He cheats. Even my influence cannot save him from the Lords of Waterdeep, who have ordered his arrest.' He fixed them with an intense stare.
    'Your exploits are known to me. You are competent individuals, and are the sort my grandson enjoys associating with. I have a proposal for you.' He silenced for a moment, then continued: 'Things are too hot for Marcus in Waterdeep. I suspect that one of his victims wants him dead, or perhaps it is one of the women he romanced and abandoned. It will take me much time and all my influence to find his enemies, whoever they are, and persuade them to call off their dogs. I would like you to carry a letter to Lord Mourngrym of Shadowdale for me, and hire my grandson as your guide on the journey.' Maskar paused a moment to let his words sink in. Before they could say anything, he started talking again.
    'In exchange, you will each receive 1000 gold dragons from my agents in Shadowdale. If you agree, I will give each one of you 250 dragons as an advance, as well as providing horses and supplies for the journey. If you refuse, however, I am perfectly capable of having all charges against you reinstated, and seeing to it that you spend a great deal of time in Castle Waterdeep's cells. Or worse...'

    'Ho now,' Goran said with a nasty tone in his voice. 'Now that sounds more like blackmail.'
    'I do not care what it sounds like, sir. I need competent individuals, and I need them now. If I need to "blackmail" them, as you put it, to get their assistance: so be it. I would prefer it, however, if you thought of this as a businessdeal. You get out of jail thanks to me, even without having to defend yourself to the charges. To make it even better: I will pay you quite a lot of money. Now, do we have a deal?'
    'Not enough money for putting up with that guy,' Norlan said, his face determined.
    'Very well then. I will add another 250 dragons for each of you, and give that to you in advance as well. Would that be sufficient then?' They considered this for a while, and decided it was better than eating gruel. Maskar smiled (for the first time) and passed fine wine around to seal the bargain.

    Maskar drank his wine, then spoke again.
    'Marcus is to be found at the Sailor's Corner. It's a pathetic little dive on Fishgut Court near the waterfront. He has a room on the second floor. Go see him there and persuade him to be your guide. At this time, he probably won't take too much convincing; even he knows he would do well to disappear for a time. Above all else, you must never reveal to him that you are working for me or he will doubtlessly give up on the entire matter.' They drank their wine and went on their way, accompanied by the two Wands (and the two golems). Outside, fresh horses were waiting with supplies. The supplies included food for about two weeks, maps of the regions they would pass through, and of course their advance money.
    'I have friends at a Chauntean monastery near Berdusk. The monks there can replenish supplies and provide healing as well. You should pass there on your way to Shadowdale. Here is the letter to Lord Mourngrym.' He handed them a wax- sealed tube, thanked them for the cooperation and went back inside. Once more, the adventurers were on their own.




    At Sailor's Corner


    In which the adventurers make contact with the elusive Marcus Wands and, after a few misunderstandings, obtain his services as a guide. Afterwards our heroes, with their new employee in the van, attempt to leave the bustle of Waterdeep for the pastoral pleasure of the Way Inn. Before they go, however, they cross paths with Felibarr Blacklance, a villain of deepest dye. No food or drink is consumed, but the chapter is exciting nonetheless.

    They left the mansion and went on their way to Al'Hara's, who didn't seem to be at home at the time. Everyone there heard about what happened though. Alexander himself had already pleaded their case with the lords, it seemed, but he didn't get an audience with Piergeiron yet. They explained the situation and took some much- needed rest before seeking Marcus out. When they got up, it was still early morning, dark and rainy. And so they mounted their steeds and went on their way.
    With a few directions, they reached the filthy dead- end street known as Fishgut Court. It was clear why it was called that, as the filthy remains of fish were clearly visible everywhere. Fortunately for them, it was raining, so the stench was probably not as bad as it usually was. No hitching posts were visible, so they left their horses with a guy, who was promised some shiny coins if everything was still there when they got back. Looking over their backs just to make sure, they entered Sailor's Corner. The interior was smoky and dim, with the only light provided by a pair of oil lanterns. The clientele was just what they expected: rough, scarred mariners and thugs, hunched at the bar or tables, nursing mugs of vile brew or talking in hushed tones. They all looked up as our friends entered, casting suspicious eyes upon them.
    The innkeeper was a thin, grizzled old man with only one good eye. He wore a leather cap, battered shirt and stained trousers. As they approached the bar, he looked them up and down and asked:
    'What is your business here?' They came to a stop at the bar and let Norlan do the talking for once, since he was the best acquainted with this type of person.
    'Greetings good man. We are looking for a friend of ours, and we were told we could find him here. You see,' he winked at the man. 'He owes us some money. Not a lot, but still he does, and I want it back of course.'
    'Of course you do,' the innkeeper answered. 'But I have no idea where he is.' Goran broke in, but was stopped halfway by Norlan.
    'We didn't even tell you his na...'
    'What my friend here means, is that you probably temporarely forgot his name, right?' he slipped the bartender a few gold coins. 'His name is Marco Volo.' The man loooked and counted the three gold coins, raised an eyebrow while slipping them into his pouch and said:
    'Never heard of him.'

    Innkeeper
    Goran pushed his friend out of the way and slammed ten other gold coins on the bar.
    'And now?' The innkeeper slipped those coins away as well.
    'Second floor, first door on your right,' he said without blinking. Arolas merely grinned and went upstairs. It was a bit better on the second floor, and there was a bit more light, now that the sun was slowly coming through. Norlan knocked on the first door on the right.
    'Who is it?' was asked, in some high- pitched feminine voice.
    'Norlan Ladro here. Can we come in?' The same strange feminine voice answered.
    'Just a moment 'til I get decent!' Immediately, they could hear dragging noises and the sound of things quickly thrown in a bag.
    'Move aside Norlan?' Goran asked with a silky voice. One moment later, the door flew open inwards, small pieces of wood tumbling to the ground along with the lock.

    Marco Volo trying to escape

    		 They saw their quarry, Marcus, clad in breeches and a shirt. He was in the process of throwing a bag of possessions out the open window. When he catched sight of them, he uttered a cry of dismay and babbled:
    'I'm sorry! It was all a misunderstanding! I spoke without thinking! Please don't kill me!'
    'Oh no?' Norlan answered, with a mean grin, and walked towards the open window, looking at the bag below. 'You should be careful of your things, you know?' He cast a levitation spell upon the bag and let it float back inside.
    'Fantastic,' Marco thought. 'A mage. I'm a dead man.' He tried to run, but bumped into a very solid wall of Dwarven Cleric.
    'Sit down!' Goran ordered, and Marco did so in the blink of an eye.
    'Please sir, I am very sorry if I caused you any problems. Please, just let me go?'
    'Let you go? Just like that?' Norlan replied with a very pleasant smile and stepped in front of Marcus. 'Think we will do that after your little stunt? You owe us, Volo.'
    'I don't have money, I wouldn't stay here if I had...'
    'Then, a service. You said you were a Bard, right? Fine then. You know your way around the Dalelands?' Marco looked a bit suspicious.
    'I do, I have been there many times. I know every road between Waterdeep and Shadowdale, even in the lands of Cormyr and Sembia. Why?'
    'Then you will bring us to Shadowdale. If you do so, we will consider this matter closed. Deal?' Marco quickly thought this over. They needed him for something! And they wanted to go to Shadowdale! This was great. Maybe he would get out of this alive after all.

    'I still have one condition, sir. I know Shadowdale like the back of my hand, and I can get you there faster than anyone else. I need some money, so I will let myself be hired as your guide. 2000 gold dragons, okay?' The adventurers stared at him for a moment, not believing their own ears. Norlan was the first to react.
    'Are you out of your mind?? If you take us there perhaps we'll let you LIVE! How about that!?' Volo was a bit paler now, but stubborn nonetheless.
    'Okay, okay, I see your point. After what I did to you I'll make you a bargain. 1000 dragons?' This time, it was Goran who reacted.
    'We are willing to give you 500 gold pieces, not a copper more, to get us to Shadowdale. You either take it or leave it. There are other guides and my warhammer itches to smash your skull. Clear?' This time, Marco agreed, even making them promise they would pay his expenses like food as well. He gathered his stuff and was smiling again.
    'What are we waiting for, friends? Time's wasting! If we leave now we can be at the Way Inn by tonight!' They agreed and left the building.

    The gloomy sky to the east was barely lighting with approaching dawn as the party mounted up outside Sailor's Corner. Overhead, lightning flashed, and thunder pealed. As they rode out of Fishgut Court, a dozen horsemen in black cloaks appeared in front of them. The leader was a tall, spare man with a lean face and a black beard. He pointed a gauntleted finger at them.
    'Turn over the criminal to us and you will live!' he barked in an icy and merciless voice. 'This is your only warning!' They all stood still, who were these guys??
    'This must be a mistake,' Arolas shouted back. 'We don't know who you mean!' The man pointed at Marco.
    'Him! Turn him over or die! Now!'

    'Hey wait a minute... You're no Waterdeep Guards,' Norlan replied, and the man yelled at his troops to attack. They stormed down the dead- end street with weapons drawn, clearly about to kill our heroes. They drew their weapons themselves, and positioned their horses so they only had two attackers at a time. Little sparks flew from the blades as the weapons collided with eachother. Arolas managed to wound one of the attackers, but another quickly took his place. Suddenly, the dark leader casted some unknown magic at them. A spear made of black energy shot out of his hands and hit Arolas full in the chest. He gasped at the sudden pain and almost fell of his horse, heavily wounded. To their astonishment, the spear now shot straight for Goran, then it hit Norlan and finally it hit Marco. All of them were quite wounded now, and all that with one single spell.
    Arolas attacked one of the dark men furiously and killed him with a few fast moves. Goran's horse suddenly slipped on the waste in the street, knocking the Dwarf to the ground. Norlan cast a magic missile spell at the attackers, as did Marco. Three other attackers were down now, and Goran got up and attacked another, impaling him on the urgrosh. It was a short but heavy fight. Norlan kept casting spells where he could, Arolas was fighting fast as usual, and Goran attacked furiously and hard. Soon, eight of the dark men were down and the sounds of approaching men was heard, clearly Waterdeep Guards. The leader of the group turned his horse and shouted:
    'This is not the last we shall see of each other!' With that, he drove off. Marco maneuvered his horse past the bodies and yelled they should get away as fast as possible, which they did. They rode out the South Gate and were out of Waterdeep soon after.




    Onwards


    In which our adventurers, having left Waterdeep in some haste, cope with the nefarious schemes of others, fight another engagement with the diabolic agents of the wicked Felibarr, and enjoy the cheeses of the world.

    And so they rode off, along the Trade Way towards Daggerford. From time to time, figures could be seen slipping away into the undergrowth. The adventurers didn't pay those much attention, however, although they were careful.
    The day was pleasant, if a bit cool. Clouds blew across the sun, and a damp breeze ruffled the grass. As they topped a rise, they saw horsemen approaching. They were leading a fancifully gilded carriage, drawn by six jet- black, richly caparisoned horses. A goblin sat on the driver's bench, cracking his whip with unrestrained glee.
    The lead horseman was clad in a breastplate, a cloak and a plumed helm. He rode forward and shouted imperiously:
    'Make way for the carriage of Sir Rivaldo!'

    The adventurers were a bit reluctant to do so, and the carriage had the slow down... The door of the carriage flew open and an expensively- dress man stepped out, his face red and concorted. Inside the carriage they saw two tawdry- looking women pointing at the adventurers and giggling.
    'Ignorant bumpkins!' he shouted. 'You need a lesson in manners! You! Peasant!' He stabbed a finger at Marcus. 'I'll teach you respect for noblemen! Show me your steel!' He slapped one hand on the dagger he wore on his right hip, and wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the rapier hanging against the other. Of course, Marcus could not tolerate the insult. He immediately drew his rapier and attacked the nobleman. The three adventurers tried to intervene, but Sir Rivaldo ordered his guards to "thrash the peasants", so they soon had a fight for themselves.

    Arolas tried to reach Marcus and get him out of harm's way, but with ten guards coming his way, on horses, that was not exactly easy. With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he drew his scimitars ans slashed one of the guards out of the saddle. Norlan grinned and pulled one of the men out of the saddle, slicing him up with his short sword. Goran put his Urgrosh in the ground and impaled one of the horses on it, making it stumble to the ground and smash its rider to the ground as well. Marco was doing his best against the hot- headed nobleman, but it was clear he was out of his league. Arolas dodged a lance and managed to wound the rider, but he was hit by another one almost right away. The battle was going well nevertheless. The goblin coachman was already fleeing in panic and the guards noticed by their dead or bleeding companions that these people were not exactly "peasants". Marco, however, was in trouble. Rivaldo was obviously not an amateur either, and he attacked almost furiously.

    Although the guards fought well, and managed to wound our friends, another three hit the dust and the rest of them started to think it was healthier to find another job. When Goran decapitated another one, all of them ran for the safety of the hills. Marcus was in bad shape, but since he suddenly got help in the form of three angry adventurers, Rivaldo decided to leave as well (quite fast). He dropped his sword and some other things as he fled. Goran was tending Marco's wounds, so all of them decided not to pursue the nobleman. Norlan got the things Rivaldo dropped and returned to the others, and Arolas checked the coach. Two girls were inside, looking quite scared now, but they loosened up once they realised they were not in any danger. They identified themselves as Tana and Zennara. Marco was quite happy with the lovely company, so he said he was "too exhausted" to ride a horse.

    Rivaldo's sword was obviously magical, and so was the purse Norlan had found. But that was all they could discover. A hat was found inside the coach as well, it was swiftly thrown away. They would never know that hat was a magic item as well...
    Inside the coach, the mood wsa quite good. They found some wine and exotic cheeses, one of them being the famous "Cormyryan Death Cheese", a cheese made from the milk of the deadly catoblepas creature! The two girls were flirting as well, mostly with Marco of course. And so the coach of Sir Rivaldo, now with different owners, rode on towards the small village of Daggerford, which they reached by noon.

    As they reached the middle of the Daggerford Bridge, they heard angry shouting from over a low rise ahead. Almost immediately, a gang of peasant appeared, armed with sickles, pitchforks, rakes and other farm implements.
    'There they are!' shouted one. 'The bandits!' The mob surged forward. Before the adventurers could answer, two men ran onto the bridge from behind and shouted:
    'This is them! They're the ones who attacked us!' Obviously, nobody knew what the hell those villagers were talking about, so Norlan took safety measures in the form of a Web spell. The next instant, all villagers were neatly trapped in huge thick spiderwebs. Marco went to reason with the villagers.
    'Dear people! This must be some case of mistaken identity! Surely you remember me, Marco Volo! Singer of songs, teller of tales and poet, who amused your village so much last time I passed.'
    'You're the bloody chap who tried to get in bed with me daughter!' came an angry reply. Marco decided to let the others do the talking from then on, as he suddenly had "something important to do" in the coach.

    Norlan and Arolas were reasoning with the mob, and Goran went after the other two behind the coach. They shouted something like "Murderers! Brigands!" and the like, and ran off. It turned out the villagers were rallied by those two persons, claiming the adventurers robbed them and were out to steal from several shops in Daggerford. It didn't take that long for Norlan and Arolas to convince the people this was not the case, most certainly since the only two "witnesses" had run off. Goran suspected the two were madmen, or maybe hired to delay the party. In any case, things were fine now, although the occasional inquisitive stare was shot in their direction. After a good meal and a bit of rest, they journeyed on. Because of the coach, the journey was a bit slower, but more comfortable. The weather was nice as well, warm with a slight breeze.




    To the Way Inn


    Somewhere in the early afternoon. As the group rounded a bend in the road, they saw a pair of travelers: a bearded man in wizard's robes and a younger man dressed in stained traveling clothes. Two horses stood nearby, cropping the grass.
    'Hail travelers!' called the wizard. 'Where are you bound?' The group stopped next to the two men.
    'We are headed for Shadowdale in the long end, but for now we just want to reach the Way Inn before nightfall,' Arolas answered. 'Who are you, if I may enquire?'
    'My name is Dhylmorre, this here is my apprentice Wik,' he said while bowing slightly and pointing towards the smaller man. 'Would you mind if we accompanied you to the Way Inn? I heard it's a bit dangerous around here, so your company would be greatly appreciated.' the party duscussed this for a moment and decided that wasn't a bad idea, taking two other people along with them. Dhylmorre was quite happy to hear that. Both men joined the adventurers after a short break, Dhylmorre in the coach and Wik on a horse. Marcus and Dhylmorre were soon in conversation, laughing a lot.

    In the late afternoon, everything looked fine. They were going to reach the Way Inn sooner than expected, according to Marcus. Unfortunately, their luck didn't hold any longer. Several arrows came from the hills both from the north and south. All of them missed, but not by far. An ambush! Without any warning, more arrows shot towards the coach. Again, all of them missed the persons around and in the coach. Again, not by far. Arolas was about to go "Hiyaaah" and ride away from the ambush as fast as they could, when six horses rode towards them, coming from over the hill. Norlan shouted something about turning the coach and ride the other way, but eight men on foot jumped out of the bushes from behind, blocking that way as well!
    'This is not good!' Arolas shouted, and jumped from the driver's bench, running towards the horsemen and drawing his scimitars. Goran took his urgrosh and awaited the footmen. Norlan looked at the small hills to the south and the north, cursed, and prepared some spells. Suddenly he noticed the footmen coming from behind and cast an "Evard's black tentacles" that way. He barely unleashed this spell when he suddenly was hit by magic missiles.
    'Mages to the south!' he shouted at the others, when Goran got hit by magic missiles as well. 'And to the north!'

    Arolas was putting on a good fight, pulling one of the horsemen to the ground, dodging another one's lance and parrying a third one's sword. Marco wasn't gonna let his Elf friend have all the fun, however, so he charged the horsemen as well. He took a nasty blow, but hit the rider hard himself. Another volley from the archers hit both Goran and Norlan. The remaining footmen reached Goran now, but they soon saw what a big mistake it was to attack a furious Dwarf armed with an ancient Dwarven weapon. Within moments, one was down with a gruesome wound. Norlan shot a "flaming sphere" spell to the north, burning the bushes and killing the mage who was hiding there, as well as one of the archers. Two other archers were severely burnt and ran away, realising they were out of their league. Marco severely wounded one of the horsemen just as Arolas killed a second one. Despite the odds, the battle was going fine, until two big shadows came down upon the group.

    Arolas saw them first, but couldn't make out what they were yet. Norlan opened his eyes wide and shouted "DRAGONS!!!" He wasn't that far from the truth, as a matter of fact. Two Wyverns descended and joined the battle. They were mounted as well, one with a female in plate armour and one with a grim fighter. The girl looked the most vicious of the two, by far. They dived down and missed Arolas by an inch. One of the horses panicked at the sight of the huge flying monster, which gave Arolas ample time to dispose of the horseman. Suddenly, Dhylmorre jumped out of the coach and incantated a spell. Norlan just had time to realise what it was, when a thin green beam shot from the mage's fingers and hit the wyvern. The disintegration spell worked, and the wyvern quickly disintegrated into very small dust. The male riding the monster just had enough time to give a startled yell before he fell to the ground. Norlan let his flaming sphere roll to the left, burning more archers, and leaped towards the floored man to take him out. Goran was beating up the footmen, together with Wik. The other wyvern was now coming down, severly hurting Norlan and even giving him a sting in the arm! The poison didn't seem to have any effect, lucky for him.


    Wyvern without Rider

    		 The thief got back up again, just in time to dodge a powerful blow from the fighter who was already standing up. Norlan struck back, but missed, leaving himself open for another blow. Noticing the huge shadow, Norlan rolled out of the way as a large tail stuck itself in the ground where Norlan was, just a split second ago. Arolas saw the problems his friend was in, but he was too busy protecting a heavily bleeding Marco. Dhylmorre shot five magic missiles at the fighter, knocking him back a little, but not enough. Goran managed to kill another of the footmen, but was hurt quite badly by now. The mercenaries didn't seem to eager to fight on , with three of them dead on the ground. The sudden appearance of the small man (Wik), who suddenly plunged his dagger hilt- deep into an archer's back didn't help either.
    The survivors thought that was quiten enough, and retreated from the fight. Goran healed himself and ran towards Norlan, who was parrying another blow from the big fighter. Arolas was doing good as well: just one horseman left, who saw the ambush was a spectacular failure and fled. Everyone now turned to the wounded fighter, and the girl mounted on the wyvern. They dived down to help the big man, who was now surrounded by our heroes. Arolas dodged the vicious tail, and managed to parry a blow from the woman, then he struck back at the wyvern. The monster screamed with pain and rage as the scimitar tore a bloody line in its belly. It prepared to fly up again, when magic missiles from Norlan and Dhylmorre (nine in total) killed it.

    The remaining two mercenaries fought on, back to back, and obviously weren't about to surrender. They put up a very good fight, but eventually they were overpowered by the adventurers.
    'How is everyone?' Goran asked the others. The reply was mostly "bloody" or "bleeding", so administering some healing was the first he did. Norlan checked the mercenaries and found some gold pieces, along with a letter.
    'Hey guys, I found something!' He read it aloud:

    Dearest Rhyssa:
    Greetings, my dearest - I have a matter that demands your immediate attention. A party of ruffians is currently travelling from Waterdeep to the Way Inn. They include a stupid, typical hairy Dwarf from some idiot religion; a faggot pointeared Ranger armed with Drow- blades and a small guy with a big mouth and obviously no brains. Possibly a wizard, and a foppish Bard who calls himself Marco Volo.     ('Foppish?' exclaims Marco. 'Cross swords with me, swine, then we'll see who's "foppish"!') Stop them from reaching the Way Inn, in a manner you choose, but I want Marco Volo. It is of no consequence if he is dead or alive. Do this and I will pay you 5.000 gold Dragons, and express my gratitude in my usual fashion, too.
    With affection, Felibarr Blacklance
    '5000 Gold pieces??' Everyone turned to Marco. 'What the hell did you do? Murder his brother?'
    'I have no idea! Really, I swear!' Marco did look troubled, and quite surprised. 'I don't know who that man is, or why he would want me.' They discussed this for a moment, but then decided to travel on, towards to the Way Inn.



    The Way Inn


    In which our heroes find welcome respite at the Way Inn, only to be again disturbed by the forces of evil, which they (hopefully) drive off in disorder. Before their exertions, the adventurers dine on pheasant and roast venison.

    The sun sank low on the horizon as our friends approached the settlement of the Way Inn. Clouds gathered overhead and a chill wind blew, so they were glad at the prospect of shelter for the night.
    Way Inn is a village named after its most prominent establishment. Recently destroyed in battle (by the hoardes of Dragonspear, only a few years ago), the town was rebuilt with a stout stone wall surrounding about 20 small buildings arrayed about the vast manor house known as the Way Inn. The gates of the village were open, and they saw other travellers entering in the gathering dusk. A guard leaned on his spear and waved them through.
    As they entered the village, they immediately saw which building was the Inn. It was the biggest building there, and of course you had the wooden sign at the entrance. The two girls said goodbye to the adventurers (after unsuccesfully trying to pick their pockets, something they will never know), Wik and Dhylmorre thanked our heroes and went inside to get a room.
    Since it was the first time any of them had been to the Way Inn (except for Marco), they took a moment to look around, before going inside. They were in need of some healing, and they were trying to figure out what to do with the coach.

    Road to the Way Inn
    'I have an idea,' Marco said. 'Leave it to me, friends!' Before anyone could stop him, he dashed of in the direction of one of the furthest buildings.
    'That's it!' Arolas sighed. 'I'm not letting him out of my sight again!' and ran after Marco, who was already talking to a merchant. To everyone's surprise, Marco was making a fairly good deal with him. He haggled with the merchant until the coach was sold, for a very good price. Along with the dray horses, he got 5000 Gold pieces out of it. After they shared the money, everyone went inside.

    The Inn was quite cozy, despite its large size. Also, it was clear that it was well tended. The four men walked to a free table and sat down. After a moment, a stout middle- aged man with a long red beard approached their table. He wore decent clothes, although they were a bit plain, and a clean white apron.
    'Good evening,' he said. 'I'm Dauravayn proprietor of this place. They call me redbeard, though I've always wondered why.' He grinned. 'What can we serve you this evening? Our specialty is roast pheasant, and the venison is especially good tonight!' 'Sounds tasty,' Norlan answered. 'I'll try the pheasant please. And red wine for everyone?' 'Certainly sir, no problem at all. What will the other gentlemen have for dinner?' Marco ordered the venison, as did Goran. Arolas wanted to try the pheasant. About 15 minutes later, dinner was served, and it was a yummy as it looked. The red wine was a fairly good quality as well, and so a very nice dinner was had by all.

    Redbeard came along to clean the table and asked if there was "anything else" he could do for them. Our band of adventurers looked a bit suspicious at that, and asked what other services he could provide.
    'Well, I understand there was a fight between two bands of ruffians earlier today. I hear it wasn't far from town. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?'
    'We might,' was all Norlan said. The others kept quiet. This time, Dauravyn adressed them in a confidentally, low voice:
    'Listen, I don't mean to press you, but I know that you are the ones involved in that fight today. I'm willing to help in any way I can. Just ask.' Since it seemed the innkeeper genuinly wanted to help them, they asked if he heard anyone ask for them.
    'No, no questions about you at all, except for some rumours about that fight. But if someone should ask questions, perhaps I can... bend the truth a little?'
    'That would be quite helpful,' Goran whispered. 'We don't know why they are after us, but they are quite persistent, and I have the feeling we haven't seen the last of them.' The others agreed with him, and ordered another drink. Redbeard nodded and went back to the bar.

    'Hm,' said Marcus, casting his eyes on an attractive, red- haired barmaid who seemed to have just come on duty. 'Pretty thing, isn't she? Don't you think she seems lonely?' Before anyone could reply, Marcus stood up.
    'Excuse me, but I see work to do.' Arolas tried to grab Marcus, but he was already gone. As they watched, Marcus approached the woman and spoke earnestly, offering to take the tray for her. She ignored him and, with a flip of her fiery red hair, walked off carrying the tray. The Bard didn't care about that, and was about to follow her when a slender but strong hand landed on his shoulder. 'Enough, Marco,' Arolas hissed. 'We're not here to get into trouble, understand? Leave that girl alone.' Marco protested for a moment, mumbled something about "Elves never knowing fun even when it hits them in their face", but returned to the others. About half an hour later, they decided to call it a night and go to sleep.


    Rat- Fiend

    		 Suddenly, in the middle of the night, a crash was heard inside the room. Arolas immediately jumped from the bed, unsheathing a scimitar.
    'Alarm!' he shouted, and listened what was going on. Since there was no light present, he could barely see even with his infravision, so he depended on his keen hearing. Someone, or something, was struggling with someone else, in the direction of Marco's bed. But which one of the two was Marco?
    'Light coming up!' was heard, followed by an incantation from Norlan. Dancing lights appeared in the room, and now they saw what was attacking Marco.
    It looked like a very big rat, who had apparently just paralyzed Marco one way or another. To their horror, they saw Arolas' Bag of Holding on its side, and it was taking the Wands' tube out of it! Arolas jumped forwards and attacked the creature. Norlan and Goran were about to do the same, when suddenly seven normal rats ran into the room and attacked them. Goran looked at the door. The rats came in through a small hole in the corner, so that was normal. But the door was still bolted, and the chair they had put against it was still there as well! How did that huge rat get in here? Those weer question that could wait, and he started to attack the rats, together with Norlan. It was a short, but vicious fight. Fortunately nobody was wounded badly.
    As they watched, the big rat started to disintegrate. A minute later, there was no evidence the creature ever existed, except for the fresh wounds they had. They had made a lot of noise, but it seemed everyone was still resting comfortably in their rooms. Arolas did make sure by checking the Inn out, nothing had happened there. Marco woke up after a few minutes, he recalled something biting him, but that was about it. They decided to get some more rest.

    The next morning, they were awoken early by the innkeeper. Dauravyn looked concerned. 'I'm sorry to wake you so early,' he said, 'especially after you've had so little sleep. But I've done some checking with my friends in the Fellowship of Innkeepers in Waterdeep, and someone has offered a great deal of money for you and your companion's capture. I'm told that your deaths will do just as well. I think you'd best get out of here quickly.'
    Our friends just had enough time for a hurried breakfast, although Redbeard put together a rather tasty repast for them. After that, they thanked him for everything, apologized for the inconvenience they might have caused, and rode away, the sun slowly rising in front of them.

    This ends the first part of Marco Volo, called "Departure". The story continues in Marco Volo: Journey, where the adventurers face more deadly pursuers, learn more of Marco Volo's secrets and encounter a roguish band of traveling players. Be sure to read it. It was a lot of fun to play, I hope it will be a lot of fun to read as well.