Dambril's Festhall

The monk ignores the cheering as he scans the crowd, his eyes finally locking on to the pupilless gaze of an illithid in the second row.

"You were trying to cheat." The githzerai's glare is bitter and implacable. "Try to invade my mind again, and I will gladly hunt you down and destroy you."

The mental response is dry and amused, creeping like beetles across Galthia's throbbing brain. Do not accuse me of something I did not do, meal-that-walks. It could come back to bite you.

"You've been warned," replies Galthia coldly as unnoticed tokens of the crowd's favor shower down around him. "If it wasn't you, it was one of your kin. I know the taint of mind flayer." Stone Bear stirs at his feet, and dry mental laughter crawls around him before dying out. Finally, the tired monk turns his head to acknowledge the crowd, and takes a moment to savor the victory.

Later, when both combatants have been healed, the entire group retires to Dambril's Festhall to celebrate. As they walk under the webs of the Butcher's and into the cavern, a ragged cheer begins in a table to the left. The noise is picked up by other tables, and within a minute the entire tavern is on its feet, duergar and goblins and kobolds together cheering and stomping their feet in tribute to the two gladiators. The group is somewhat taken aback, but the noise soon fades as people go back to their food and drink. The place is packed with people spending their winnings, and the mood is as merry as a room full of violent, evil underdark dwellers can get.

An ogre lumbers up. "You wanna seat?" it scowls, eyeing the entirely full tavern.

"Yes," says Tao, "but there's no need to..." The ogre is already lumbering away, snarling as it charges unevenly towards a table full of drunken goblins. The one semi-sober goblin sees the ogre coming, screams, and scrambles away. The ogre picks up one of the other goblins by the scruff of its neck and shakes it.

"Champion wantsa seat! You gonna givit toim?"

"Blurg?" The bleary-eyed goblin lifts its head, sees Galthia, and its face splits into a disturbingly wide grin. "You betcha! Sitim here!" He manages a happy little wave before the ogre drops him into a puddle of vomit on the floor. By the time the group makes their way across the crowded room, the rest of the drunken goblins have abandoned the table, and the ogre has wiped it down with a spit-covered rag.

"I hope you folks excuse me for a moment, please," Nolin says as he unlimbers his instrument. "What this place needs is a little proper music. I'll stay in the conversation via the mind link." He makes his way to the front of the festhall and soon has the drunken crowd stomping, cheering, and singling along in undercommon. Meanwhile, the rest of the group discusses more serious matters over complementary food and drink paid for by eager admirers and hangers-on.

"I don't like it," Velendo says over the mind-link, not even trying to shout over Nolin's song. "In the last four or five days we've had more than a half dozen incidents of vertigo, dizziness, and stabbing pains in our chests. Bad dreams, too. Not everyone in the group has been affected, but it doesn't bode well."

"Dreams of falling." Tao shivers in memory. "And there's that incident with the worms." Stone Bear turns his face to her questioningly, and Tao elaborates. "This morning we found tiny white worms dribbling down out of the solid rock of the ceiling. No obvious source. They were just.. there." Stone Bear nods.

"I've heard of similar things in the last few days. Merchants finding worms dropping atop their head, bad dreams. And the beetles are apparently running much earlier than normal, and in greater numbers."

Agar shivers. "Can't forget those beetles," he says weakly. "What do you mean by running?"

"I am told that once a year, the beetles all return to their breeding places. When they do, many of those in the underdark hunt them with nets and traps and spears. They are very regular, but not this year."

Malachite smiles. "Maybe they're modrons."

"So what does it mean?" Velendo spreads his hands in frustration before glaring up at the ceiling, his eyes focus past miles of stone to the endless heavens somewhere above. "What, huh? Make the damn signs clearer; we're stupid down here!" Sighing, he takes a swig of mushroom beer while studiously ignoring all the goblins staring at him. "I might have a chat with Calphas later today. If this is happening to more people than just us, we should probably know about it."

"Good idea."

Malachite's mouth twists. "Weal or woe."

Velendo's head jerks up. "Huh?

"Weal. Or. Woe. No confusing riddles, no obscure prophecies. Just do that divination that says whether something is good or bad. Much easier."

Velendo stares at him. "Err... right. You are aware that.. oh, never mind."

Malachite nods confidently. "Weal or woe." He takes a drink from his mug.

Galthia leans back, still sore despite the healing magics from Velendo. "I plan to visit Mirjik later. He may have been able to find some sort of magical gloves for me."

"That's right!" perks up Agar. "He was going to try and find some scrolls for me, as well. I hope he's back."

Malachite frowns. "I don't trust him." Mara and Velendo nod their agreement, but Agar brushes away the objection by waving in the air with a leg of fried lizard for emphasis.

"Nah. You just don't know him. You still upset about that angel heart comment? I'm sure he sells what the market demands. He seems like a reliable guy to me. I just hope I can afford to pay him; as part of our deal, he's picking up a cache on my money that I left with a friend in Sigil."

Galthia nods, considering his empty money pouch. "I know the feeling."

Splinder sits up at that, grins mischievously, and pushes his large mug aside. "That reminds me." He turns to Galthia and hauls out a heavy pouch, which he slaps down between the githzerai and the halfling. It jingles as the table creaks slightly. "Me an' the boys bet our savings on ya." He glances over to Stone Bear. "No offense."

"None taken."

"So we sort of spread the word as to how you weren't especially talented, or competent, and then laid in a bet at the last minute as the odds went up. Paid off better than three to one. As parta the team, we thought we'd donate this to the fund that let's you kick more ass." He leans back and crosses his arms. "More'n six thousand gold in there, there is."

Galthia looks shocked. "I thank you. But you and your troops should make sure you keep some for yourselves." Splinder's eyes glitter.

"Oh, we did." Mara laughs. Behind her, Nolin finishes a raucous song and returns to the table, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"That was fun. I'm going to have to do this again, for real. What are we talking about? I stopped listening when the conversation got boring."