The Snobeedle Meadery
Magic transportation via plants was as strange as Kuhl imagined. With the encouragement of the disembodied voice of Lady Jeryth Phaulkon, he'd stepped into one of the large sycamore trees bordering her courtyard garden and now found himself stepping out of a large oak tree. The scent of tilled earth and barley told him he was no longer in the city even before his eyes cleared the oak to see the nighttime countryside landscape. Despite expecting it, the reality of magic travel gave him pause, and he stood for a moment to take it all in - the breeze on his skin, the rustle of leaves of the oak tree branches above, the rutted dirt country road ahead, and the field of barley shoots on the other side.
Further in the distance loomed the cliff wall of the plateau atop which Waterdeep was built. The collective lantern and torch light of the sprawling city gave the night sky above it an orange glow. Somewhere up there, he suddenly realized, the back half of his body still resided in the courtyard garden of Phaulkonmere. It was a very disconcerting and disorienting thought.
Then hands on his shoulder pushed him forward to make room for those who followed.
"You're blocking the way, Kuhl," Sky said the moment she came through, voice irritated.
But her tone changed as she too took in their surroundings.
"This is amazing!" she said. "It was like we were birthed right out of a tree!"
"I wouldn't really compare it to a birth," the half-elf said, considering. "It's not like we had to squeeze through a tight constricting space."
"Or emerged covered with sticky fluid," Surash said, having walked out from the oak behind the tabaxi. "I imagine a birth from a tree would involve a lot more sap."
"I don't think we traveled so much through the trees," Kuhl said. "But rather Lady Jeryth used them as a conduit for her magic to connect two places."
"Whatever," Sky said, with a dismissive wave. "Oh, look. We already found our first scarecrow suspect."
A scarecrow was mounted on a pole in the middle of the field of barley. Together they moved to take a closer look, crossing the hard packed dirt road and avoiding stepping on newly sprouted shoots as they did. Straw stuffed into an old, battered jacket of white linen and wool trousers gave the scarecrow's body shape and form and it had a sack cloth for a head with mismatched buttons forming eyes, a nose, and a crooked smile. A straw hat was placed on top of the sackcloth head and likely secured with a few stitches to keep it from falling off. Kuhl was no expert, but the scarecrow looked fairly mundane, if a little creepy at night. This, however, did not stop his tabaxi companion from interrogating it.
"So, where were you the night all the livestock were killed?" she asked.
The scarecrow made no answer, but the nighttime breeze did stir some of the straw of its hat and poking through its clothes in various places.
"You know," the half-elf said after a couple of moments. "I think this just might be just a regular, inanimate, scarecrow."
"Given it has a wooden pole rammed through it to keep it upright," Surash said. "And another horizontal one to stretch out its arms, I think that is very likely."
"Very, very, likely," Dawnbringer agreed in Kuhl's mind, not that the alchemist could hear.
"Maybe you should hack it up anyway," the tabaxi said. "Just to be certain and to narrow the potential suspects."
"I don't think the farmer who owns this field would appreciate us destroying his scarecrow," the half-elf said. "He'd come here tomorrow and probably find all these shoots pulled up and eaten."
"Just thought of a new angle," Sky said, nodding thoughtfully. "The rumors of livestock killings could all be a nefarious crow plot, spread to sow mistrust of scarecrows among farmers."
"In this scenario," the alchemist said, voice doubtful. "How did the crows manage to murder the livestock in question?"
"A whole flock of them gathered to do the deed?" the tabaxi said, shrugging. "It's a working theory."
"That actually works, semantically," the alchemist said, with a shrug of his own.
"What does he mean by that?" Dawnbringer asked telepathically.
Kuhl did not know, but Sky didn't give him a chance to ask.
"Come on," she said, walking towards the road and motioning for them to follow. "We need to interview potential witnesses."
"Ah, Sky," the half-elf said, pointing. "The farmhouse is this way."
He could see a small one-story house surrounded by a waist high field stone wall on the road in the opposite way as the tabaxi angled.
"Why settle for a couple of witnesses when you can interview many at once?" the tabaxi asked. "There is a cluster of buildings this way. I am guessing one of them is that meadery Lady Jeryth mentioned."
To the north lay more planted fields, then orchards of fruit trees began on either side of the road. Just visible in a clearing because of lit lanterns around entrances, however, was a cluster of wooden buildings.
"That actually makes sense," Surash said.
"There is a method to her mad investigation work," Kuhl said.
"The key word there is mad," Dawnbringer said in his mind. "But strangely effective."
The half-elf couldn't argue with either statement.
Lady Jeryth had explained that with the notable exceptions of a prisoner farm run by the City Watch and a training camp for the City Guard, most of the inhabitants of the agriculturally focused community of Undercliff were halflings or gnomes. The smaller size of farmhouse they'd seen already supported this, but the cluster of buildings they now approached made it even more apparent, as did the group of halflings smoking pipes on the porch of a sprawling home.
The wood and fieldstone walled house was well constructed, but built to a smaller scale, the pitched and shingled roof peaking only a little higher than Kuhl's head. The adjacent stables with a hayloft actually dwarfed the residence in height.
Sky, leading the way, gave a thoughtful look towards the pipe smoking group on the porch, probably considering them as witnesses to interview, but a low stone wall with a sturdy looking green painted gate discouraged visitors. Bright lantern light on either side of the entrance to a large wood building bearing the name the Snobeedle Meadery was both far more inviting and more easily accessed. For once the tabaxi took the path of least resistance and headed that way.
"They need bees to pollinate the orchards," Surash said. "So, a meadery as a side business is a good fit."
As mead was made from honey wine, keeping bees and brewing mead would go well together.
The half-elf only had to duck a little to enter the building and could stand at full height once inside. At first glance, the inside of the meadery looked like any other common taproom of a tavern. There were the scattered tables, the bar at the rear, the burning hearth, the stage, and the swinging doors to presumably the kitchen - and in this case probably also to the warehouse and brewing operation. Many of the tables, however, were halfling sized, especially those closest to the fire and the bar.
The clientele and staff were also primarily gnomes and halflings - including the brown skinned gnome with braided white hair and a beard playing the mandolin on the stage. Some human customers, however, did sip at tankards, most sitting in groups at the bigger sized tables, but a few hunched over the smaller ones to socialize with their more diminutive friends. One table included a contingent of five guardsmen in polished chain mail and black tabards - their steel helms occupying an empty table next to them.
A casual glance to the door among some of the patrons as the companions entered was quickly followed by widening eyes, elbows to their fellows, which caused even more curious stares. Kuhl, having traveled with Sky for some time, was familiar with this reaction. This place, so close to Waterdeep, probably saw its share of strange visitors. But a tabaxi was stranger than most.
"Who to start with?" Sky mumbled to herself, tail lashing. "Who to start with?"
The group of guardsmen looked relaxed and at their ease. One of them related a story of some sort, waving a hand as he spoke, while the rest listened with bemused smiles and chuckles. An insular group at the moment, one obviously not wanting to be disturbed.
So, of course, Sky started towards them.
"Ah, Sky…" the half-elf called after her.
But she didn't hear him, or at least so she pretended. Kuhl and Surash exchanged a look, shook their heads with a sigh and a shrug, then followed.
"Is this table taken?" the tabaxi asked, standing before the table of helmets.
The guardsmen were so engrossed in their conversation that the response didn't come immediately and their surprise at finding some sort of humanoid cat person asking the question delayed it further.
"Actually, it sort of is," the storyteller finally said.
He was middle aged with a shaved bald head and gray neatly trimmed mustache and beard. His pale blue eyes flicked to an empty and available table nearby in confusion.
"Great," Sky said, tail lashing. "I have a few questions."
She picked up a helmet and moved it to the other side of the tabletop to make room and sat.
"Such as?" the guardsman asked, raising an eyebrow.
Reluctantly, Kuhl joined Sky at the table. He did not, however, move any of the helmets and Surash made a point to not to touch any of them either.
"Why do some of you wear black and silver uniforms while others green and gold?"
It was a woman who answered, also middle aged with streaks of gray running through her otherwise dark hair. She had a prominent scar, likely from a slicing blade, on one cheek.
"Actually, it's a common confusion for visitors," she said, pointing at herself. "We're the Guard, you can pick one of us out because, as you pointed out, we wear elegant black and silver polished steel. The others are the Watch and wear the far less flattering green and gold. We guard the walls, patrol the roads into the city, and protect surrounding areas like Undercliff while they keep law and order in the city. At least that is what they are supposed to do at any rate."
The roll of her eyes gave a non-verbal hint of how well she thought the Watch performed their duties. Laughter, nods, and raised tankards from her table followed her explanation. Kuhl smiled as well, knowing what was expected. As a former member of the Tomb Guard of Evereska, he was familiar with the common rivalry between the military branches of a city.
"That about explains it," the bald guardsmen said, nodding.
He turned back to his group, his tone had been friendly, but there was something dismissive in his manner that made the half-elf begin to get ready to find a new table.
"Actually," Sky said. "I did say I had a few questions."
The bald guardsman sighed.
"Isn't there a saying about curiosity and cats?" he asked.
But he motioned for the tabaxi to ask away.
Sky's next question told Kuhl she'd already known the answer to her previous question.
"So, since the Guard protects places like Undercliff," she said. "You'd be the one to ask about sightings of animated scarecrows who kill livestock in the area."
Understanding dawned in the bald guardsman's expression. He smiled and shook his head and many of the others at the table did the same.
"Ah, so this is what this is about," he said. "Look here, men. A trio of adventurers. Here to save the day from a threat beyond we poor guardsmen."
"Lucky us," the woman with the scar said with a snort.
"It's night, actually," Surash said.
Gazes shifted from the tabaxi to the alchemist.
"Come again?" the bald guardsman asked.
"You said here to save the day," Surash said. "But it's night. So, it would be here to save the night."
"Day, night, whatever," the bald man said. "The point is you've wasted a long walk out to Undercliff and now are wasting our off-duty time."
"We actually didn't walk," Sky said. "We got magically birthed out of an oak tree not far from here."
"In a way that didn't not involving squeezing through tight spaces," the alchemist further explained. "Or any sticky sap."
A moment of silence followed as looks were exchanged among the guardsmen where it became very clear they felt they dealt with an especially mentally deficient group of so-called adventurers.
"That little detail didn't need to be shared," Dawnbringer mentally said. "And, if it was, could have been described a little differently to impress."
"First trip to Undercliff?" the scarred woman asked, changing tacks, and looking at Kuhl. "To the Snobeedle meadery?"
"First time," the half-elf confirmed.
"Then your trip need not be a waste for either of us," the woman said. "They call mead the nectar of the gods and the Snobeedles brew the nectar of nectars. So, what say you buy a girl and her companions a round and we'll tell you why there are no animated scarecrows to hunt, despite what you might have read in the Wazoo. You"ll at least get a fine drink and some decent company out of it."
She raised her tankard and her fellow guardsmen raised theirs as well in salute of her idea and gave an approving cheer. Her hazel eyes twinkled with amusement and her scar creased and grew more prominent with her smile.
"Look at that smile," Dawnbringer thought into Kuhl's mind. "I think she likes you. I told you that brown and gold doublet looked good on you."
Aleina had insisted he change into some of his nicer clothes for their visit to Phaulkonmere and he was dressed in a belted, form fitting patterned doublet of brown and gold. It might look good on him? But definitely would also mark him as someone who had some funds.
"I think, rather," the half-elf thought back. "She is smiling because she has found someone to fleece for drinks."
But he smiled back, caught the attention of a halfling barmaid and orders were made, including three more for himself, Sky, and Surash. And, just like that, the attitude of the guardsmen changed. They gave the companions their full attention, no longer trying to get back to their previous conversation.
"Thank you ," the bald man said, then pointed at himself. "Captain Emlyn by the way, pleased to meet you. Look, the Guard knows all about the rumors of animated scarecrows because we're the original source of it. We sent an official report on it to the Palace. Some terrified mushroom farmer told this wild tale of scarecrows killing his goats."
"Mushroom gatherer," the scarred woman said.
"Farmer, gatherer, what is the difference, Liane?" Emlyn said, draining his tankard in expectation of a new one arriving. "Nectar of the gods. Definitely."
"The difference," the scarred woman, Liane, said. "Is the little forest gnome doesn't grow the mushrooms, does he? He forages wild ones in the Vanderwood."
"You're talking about Kipper," the halfling barmaid said, arriving and putting a tankard in front of Liane. "He is usually a regular. Sells his mushrooms to the cook as well but hasn't been around much."
"Probably embarrassed," the scarred woman said.
She too finished her previous drink and offered up the empty tankard, then claimed the new one fully by pulling it closer.
"Probably," the barmaid agreed. "But he needn't be. Could have happened to anyone."
"Why embarrassed?" Sky asked, listening intently.
"When we went to investigate his claim about the scarecrow killing his goats," the bald captain said. "He admitted he killed the goats himself. The scarecrows had been a hallucination brought on by some wild mushrooms he'd eaten. Took a while for the mushroom's effects to wear off I guess."
"It can take some time for the hallucinative agent to work through a system," Surash said. "And sometimes it lingers, and relapses happen. Strange someone who gathers mushrooms for a living did not recognize the danger. It must have been an exceedingly rare specimen."
"Must have been," Captain Emlyn said, in an offhand way that indicated he didn't care. "But that is the long and the short of it. There never were any animated scarecrows, it was all made up. But the rumor of them just won't die thanks to that article in the Wazoo."
He too pulled his new tankard closer, a protective motion, as if he expected it to be taken away now that he told all he knew.
"This is very good," Surash said, lowering the tankard. "You sell casks to taverns as well? Deliver them to Waterdeep?"
"Of course," the halfling barmaid said. "Wouldn't be much of a meadery if we didn't."
Kuhl sipped his drink. It was good! The type the guardsmen had ordered was brewed with a mix of honey and cherry wine. It was somehow sweet with a tart aftertaste.
"How much per cask?" The alchemist asked. "Including delivery?"
"You'd have to talk with my uncle," the barmaid said. "But he works days, not nights."
"You know," a guardsman at the table who hadn't spoken until now said. "If I had eaten that mushroom, I'd have had a hallucination about the dryad of the Vanderwood rather than go on a goat killing spree,"
The new speaker was young, having all the appearances of a fresh-faced recruit.
"That would be even more embarrassing," Liane said, her scar crinkling again with her grin. "We'd have found you alone in the woods, stripped of all clothing, and then had to haul you to the brig naked for dereliction of duty. But first a trip to the healers where we'd need to explain that your lips and skin were chafed raw from kissing and grinding against tree trunks."
Everyone laughed, including the young soldier, despite his reddening face.
"I think it would have been worth it," he said, taking in a swallow of mead.
"There is a dryad in this Vanderwood?" Sky asked.
"Supposedly," the scarred woman said, but her snort of derision showed what she thought of that.
"My cousin Dasher says he met her," the barmaid said. "She supposedly asked him for a favor next time he visited Waterdeep."
"Every male in Undercliff claims to have met her," Liane said, with a roll of her eyes. "Except poor Buckman here, who just wants to eat a madness inducing mushrooms and fantasize about meeting her."
"We keep telling you she teaches us vital lovemaking skills," Captain Emlyn said, his expression showing he joked.
"If only that were true," Liane said. "Then the women of Undercliff would be the happiest in all the Realms instead of those with the sharpest tongues."
"You've got that right," the bald man said.
They clinked tankards together and laughed.
Kuhl focused on the barmaid who still lingered at their tables.
"Dasher is your cousin?" he asked. "Dasher Snobeedle?"
That was the halfling Fargas, Aleina, and Jhelnae planned to find before the companions separated.
The barmaid's eyes narrowed.
"You know him?" she asked.
The half-elf shook his head.
"I've only heard his name," he said.
"Well, if you do see him," she said. "You can punch him right in the mouth. Hard. And tell him that is from Seraphina."
"Not your favorite cousin?" Kuhl asked.
"Oh, we are close," she said. "And I will hug him hard when I see him, right after I punch him. He has a lot to answer for. Disappearing in Waterdeep. Worrying us all sick. Stealing from the family accounts. Giving us only rumors of him being seen drunk in gambling dens to know he is alive."
Her knuckles went white with the fury with which she gripped her now empty tray.
"If I see him," the half-elf said. "I'll give him your message."
A worried look crossed her face.
"Don't really punch him," she said. "You are very big and could hurt him badly."
Kuhl nodded and smiled, letting her know he understood.
"What sort of favor did the dryad ask of him?" Sky asked, tail lashing.
"Oh, I don't know," the barmaid said. "Check on someone or something in Waterdeep since she couldn't go there herself. I ignored him at the time because I thought it was yet another one of his practical jokes and he'd say, 'got you' once I took him seriously."
The tabaxi nodded.
"Where would we find Kipper if we wanted to talk to him?" she asked.
"He has a small steading near the Vanderwood," the halfling said.
"Weren't you listening?" Captain Emlyn said. "There is nothing to investigate. He admitted to killing his goats himself."
"I wouldn't mind learning about the mushroom he found and ate," Surash said.
"He is an alchemist," the half-elf explained.
"Just be sure not to go into the forest," the scarred guards-woman said with a wink at Kuhl. "She'd be sure to drag a handsome thing like you to her tree-house and your companions would never see you again. I know I would."
"Told you so," Dawnbringer said in his mind. "The brown and gold doublet accentuates your physique nicely."
The half-elf felt himself go flush at Liane's teasing, overly blatant, leer.
"Don't worry," Sky said. "We've met dryads before, and they were able to resist dragging him off. Of course, they might have been too afraid of a trio of elf maids and an aasimar to try anything."
Despite her jesting tone her golden eyes glittered with sharp intensity and, knowing her well, the Kuhl could tell she sensed a mystery. And some part of him felt, despite the captain's assurances, they were going to find one.
I know, I know, long time since posting. Workload was killing any creative time or energy.
Also, I plotted out something different where the scarecrows were a test set up by Baba Yaga to find champions to compete for her in a race in the Feywild where arch fey get to pick their champions and she was really tired of her team losing. This was going to lead into a race across the Feywild to a vampire held city for a book in a library and Kuhl was going to find himself racing against his mother and her team, which would be the champions of the Maiden of the Moon.
LOL
Then I realized the fic is about Waterdeep Dragonheist, not titled "Author sends readers in a 20 chapter aside that has nothing to do with module…"
So don't worry, I junked all that. :) But I wasted a lot of time plotting it all out in my mind, which delayed my posting.