Approaching the city from the water the first thing you feel is heat. The air grows steadily warmer, and dry blasts of very hot air swirl by at intervals. The air take on a faintly metallic tang the closer to Gracklstugh you get. “HUSH!” Tammuz calls out to the group as he hears something. “Battle sounds, Crossbows, screams, yelling,” he point off the starboard bow, “The ship we’re following is under attack.” Captain Brorb slows. A blue flash of arcane light illuminates the scene for a second. A harpoon spears a sailor, and the creature in the water that threw it, reels in the attached chain, pulling the man overboard. The creature, “They’re merrow, nasty buggers,” the captain says, drags the victim beneath the surface.
Three merrow are on the ship’s rail throwing barbed harpoons attached by chains to thick belts they wear. One of them misjudges and falls back into the dark waters. Another merrow shoots out of the water onto the rail to take its place. A column of water appears on the deck of the ship, and it swings watery appendages at the crew. Distracted, one turns his back and a merrow impales him. Touching the belt, it reels in the chain, and the merrow grabs the sailor and dives into the Darklake. A merrow shoots up onto the rail and throws his harpoon. He misses, but another merrow reels in a sailor and disappears over the far side of the ship. The water creature moves towards the wheel and engages the captain and the first mate there. A scruffy looking svirfneblin blows smoke into the face of a merrow and follows with a long, curved knife through the cloud into the thing’s face. “Should we help,” Baern asks? Everyone looks at him, and he looks at the captain. “The merrow would like that,” he replies, “I would not.”
The captain steers the Whisper cutting a wide path around the beleaguered merchant vessel and then proceeds on towards Gracklstugh. It continues to grow warmer and warmer and soon a reddish glow is visible ahead. Gracklstugh’s glowing forges and smithies operate continuously. Most of the city is dimly lit by a hellish red glow, with small patches of darkness here and there. A few other vessels can be seen moving around near the docks, barges for the most part.
“Buppido tells you there is a stone pier on the eastern end of the port,” the derro says pointing, “Old, and the least used pier in Gracklstugh.” Brorb nods, and points the ship towards the eastern most dock. “It is closest to the Blade Bazaar, which Buppido knows is the only place they allow foreigners to shop.” The Whisper slows, and docks. The captain says, “I will stay with the ship.” Everyone else is eager to spend coin in the market, upgrading weapons. “The duergar have no sense of humor, generally, and are quick to arrest even the victims when trouble breaks out,” he advises those going ashore, which is everyone else.
Thirteen people walk down the plank, onto the dock. A steady stream of traffic, mostly foreigners move along the main road along the docks. “Buppido says the blade bazaar is this way,” he points to the left. A troop of duergar soldiers clanks by, looking suspiciously at everyone.
Merging with the flow of traffic, the company turns towards the market, a loud yell startles everyone. “THIEF!” A duergar soldier grabs the wrists of a cloaked drow, who tries to wriggle out of his grasp. “Wait, no!!” The drow screams as the guard yanks hard, pulling the arm he holds out straight, slices it off at the elbow. The drow drops to his knees, blood fountains from the stump. The guard bends and retrieves the stolen bracelet. Tossing the bracelet to the merchant, he walks away with the arm, leaving the thief moaning and wrapping his cloak around the bleeding stump of his arm. The crowd moves around him as if he wasn’t there, and none of the duergar seem to notice him.
The rhythmic hammering of the city’s forges is drowned for a second by a thundering roar and the sound of crumbling rock. Duergar and visitors alike turn to look as a two-headed, gray-skinned giant bursts through a gate, howling madly and lashing out left and right, littering the plaza with rock and stone debris. As he bellows, one of his swings connects with a duergar soldier, whose broken body flies through the air and crashes near you with a sickening crunch. One guard runs to sound the alarm, two more and two duergar elites with flame emblems engage the two-headed giant.
The raving stone giant bats the nearest elite, who crumples dead against the wall. Crab surrounds the giant, and the two closest duergar in a circle of thorns. Vorkath charges ahead with his sword raised, followed by Obie, while the rest of the party moves close enough to cast spells or fire hand crossbows. Tammuz winds psychic energies around the creature, Vorkath slices and dices. The two duergra struggle to free themselves from the thorns, but sadly do not survive. The giant, smashes through the wall easily, ignoring the thorns as if they were mosquito bites. He swings at Vorkath and misses, takes a second swing and crushes the remaining duergar guard. Vorkath strikes deep, and the psychic energies combine to make the giant turn tail and flee. A flurry of bolts, a punch from Obie and a final crossbow bolt from Jimjar through the giant’s neck makes it collapse, dead in the road.
Duergar troops begin arriving and stop the company for an interrogation. Tammuz slips quietly into the shadows, and watches from hiding. Scanning the crowd, he sees a drow scout with a scar across her face staring intently at the company. As the duergar relax, seeing that the company killed the giant. Two more duergar soldiers, who were invisible, appear and the guards move towards the gates. Another giant comes, and looks down sadly at the corpse. The drow scout watches the group until the duergar are finished with their questions. Tammuz turns to see the approaching giant, and when he looks back, and the drow is gone, vanishing into the crowd. Tammuz scans the crowd for her as they move towards the Blade Bazaar.
Two mounted duergar lead a steeder caravan by, drawling lot of looks. Huge spike covered spider are used as mounts by the duergar, and two of them are leading a string of a dozen small, pony sized steeders. People who get too close pull back as the creatures snap their fangs loudly trying to bite anyone who gets too close. Across the way, a troop of duergar lead a string of slaves through one of the gates.
The duergar merchants all seem a little tense, but the sight of coin does wonders. The company moves through from stall to stall stopping here and there. Crab buys a spool of piano wire 100′ for 20gp, Tammuz & Baern buy a heavy crossbow for 50gp each. They dicker for healing potions, buying 13, and getting a poison cure thrown in for 600gp. 500′ spool rope 10gp, a barrel of grease 25gp, 5 flasks of oil each 13gp, brass knuckles for Obie 25gp, 300gp on specialty incendiary and explosive bolts, Vorkath stops at a sword smith and buys a silvered great sword for 200gp.
A svirfneblin with a cart selling spell gems is questioned about his wares. “Svirfneblin magic, like a scroll, only anyone can use them. Break the gem and the spell is released. I have first and second level spells available. He reads off a list; Alter Self, Darkness, Detect Thoughts, Enlarge/Reduce, Hold Person, Invisibility, Knock, Misty Step, Spider Climb, Spray of Cards, Suggestion, Web. “You can buy empty ones and fill them yourself,” he adds. He will not dicker over price, and sells them 4 knock spell gems for 75gp each, and 5 blanks for 30gp each. Another 65gp are spend on backpacks (12 and Obie picks out small saddlebags for Stool).
A sign, “DARKLAKE STOUT” attracts their roving eyes. The pride of the duergar Muzgardt clan is a dark stout beer with some unusual properties, When you drink a serving (4 per bottle) you make a DC 15 CON check or be darklake drunk. This gives you advantage on strength and constitution and disavdantage on dexterity and wisdom rolls. In addition, once while drunk you can enlarge yourself for up to one minutes. They buy four bottles 25gp each. A total 1,832gp in coin and gems is spent in the bazaar.
“The only place non-duergar can stay, is right there,” says Jimjar, pointing to the inn on the west end of the bazaar. The Ghohlbrorn’s Lair is an inn, the only establishment in Gracklstugh that accepts non-duergar guests. “Ghohlbrorn” means “bulette” in Dwarvish, and the inn is built inside a small cavern complex beneath the Blade Bazaar at the northern end of the Darklake District. Its halls are cold and damp. A central chamber serves as a dining room, branching out into different small, twisting halls along which the rooms are excavated. It’s dark, cramped, and uncomfortable, but safe and defensible. “No thanks,” Baern says instantly, “I’m not sleeping there. I’d be happier on the ship.” Everyone feels the same, and since being able to buy supplies and cook meals, food on the ship (having a druid helps) is excellent.
“There is a bar, Buppido knows, on the other end of the docks,” he points to a long wharf with a large building on the end of it, that seems to hang over the water. Stopping at the ship, they stow their purchases and tell the captain they will be back later. On the other end of the docks lies the Shattered Spire. A ramshackle tavern that was located atop a broken stalagmite that rises from the Darklake and is connected to the mainland by a rope bridge. “We could go to the inn,” Obie says doubtfully looking at the place. “Nah, this is fine,” Baern replies and walks nimbly over the bridge. The company follows him, the bridge turns out to be quite sturdy and no one has an issue crossing. (2gp 1,834 gp in total spent)
Inside the place smells of smoke, ale, wine and fried fish. A svirfneblin mans the bar, and there are few derro serving drinks and cooking or cleaning. Three humans in leather armor, and bristling with weapons draw the interest of Baern. The bard walks over smiling, “Hail strangers, what brings you down below?” All three stare at him, and the middle one wrinkles his face, “Fuck off.” Baern is surprised at the bad reaction, but accepts it and walks away. Tammuz sits obliquely to the group and listens in. The conversation is about how much Gracklstugh sucks. “I think the Deepking has gone crazy,” one says, “Says the most random shit, and then contradicts his own orders.” The city is even more tense than usual, and there seems to be a lot more inner duergar than usual.
A party of four elves enters after the humans leave, and take their table. They are speaking common and happy to converse with fellow surface dwellers. They tell a story of the Keepers of the Flame who have had a red dragon egg stolen. The forges that run Gracklstugh are powered by the fires of a red dragon. This has been so for century upon century. Themberchaud is the current wyrm, and a rather large fat one, at that. He takes a lot of feeding and it seems They are hoping a replacement hatches soon to take over.
Having had enough watery beer and waterier wine, the company decides to leave Gracklstugh immediately. Tammuz weaves his chronomancer energies around the group makign them untraceable using an ancient path spell. Heading back to the eastern dock, they greet Brorb, and begin making preparations to set sail. Within an hour, the Whisper slides out of the east dock and turns back towards the Darklake and the Neverlight Grove, putting Gracklstugh behind them.
The ship they saw attacked limps into port looking heavily damaged. The Whisper sails quietly passed and heads out into the darkness. Tammuz takes the blank away , spell gems, weight of a thousand years, earth balance