The Chosen of Mielikki

"I knew it," Aleina said, sighing and running a hand through her hair. "I knew you would all hate it. I told you I couldn't pull this sort of thing off."

The last part was said to Jhelnae. Both the aasimar and half-drow had just returned to the Trollskull from their visit to the Temple of Beauty with drastically shorter hair. Aleina's went from closely cropped on the left side to shoulder length on the right and decorated with a couple of small braids while Jhelnae's was short on the sides and back, but long enough on the top to come close to her eyebrows even when styled to one side.

"By all that dances!" the half-drow said. "You look great! Who cares what they think? Look at Kuhl. He is wearing the pants Sarith got for him in Gracklstugh and he is casting judgment on us? No. Just no."

"Judgment on you?" the half-elf asked. "I haven't said a word. And what is wrong with these pants?"

He had changed clothes since their visit to the Sea Maiden's Faire into the clothes he usually wore and knew what they found wrong with these pants. They'd tread this ground before.

"None of you have said anything since we walked in," the aasimar said. "Just stared."

"And the problem with your pants is they were made by the duergar in Gracklstugh," Jhelnae said. "Not a people known for being stylish tailors. And since you got those pants, you've wrestled a two headed stone giant in them, swam in a gelatinous cube in them, and fought an army of oozes in them."

"In other words," Aleina said. "There are more patches than pants left in them. They need to be burned. To ash. Then those ashes should be taken to Cliff Watch and cast to the four winds."

"She isn't wrong," Dawnbringer said in his mind.

"So, what you are trying to say is they are broken in," Kuhl said. "And very comfortable. Love the new hair styles by the way."

"No," the aasimar said, shaking her head. "No. Too late for that. That is what you say when someone first walks in a room. Not after an eternity of staring."

"You have a strange concept of eternity," Surash said. "I'm still formulating an opinion."

"You haven't looked up from your game of dragon chess," Aleina said. "Which is worse."

It was late afternoon and only a few patrons occupied the tables of the taproom. Soon the number of customers would start growing as the day moved to evening and the North Ward residents started seeking dinner, tankards, and company. Unless they finished their game of dragon chess soon, the alchemist and the resident spirit, Lif, who sat invisibly on a barstool on the other side of the board, would be forced to abandon their game.

"I'm still trying to formulate my next move as well," Surash said, concentrating even harder.

"You both look great," Fargas said from behind the bar. "Marvelous. How could we not pause to take in two such visions as they walked through the door."

"Thank you, Fargas," the aasimar said, sounding slightly surprised.

Unfortunately, the halfling kept talking.

"I mean, I didn't even recognize you at first," he said. "Such a transformation. From your former plain and basic styles to this. Great. Just great."

The aasimar and half-drow shared an eye roll.

"So, we were plain," the Jhelnae said.

"And basic, apparently," Aleina said.

A pinch of flour lifted from a small pot and was sprinkled out on the polished bar top. Letters were scrawled through the dusting by a spectral invisible hand. The companions at the bar crowded around the powdered surface to read.

"The word is stunning. Stunning before and stunning now."

More flour was sprinkled to renew the writing medium.

"It is nice to try a new look."

Another sprinkling.

"If you know a haunted barber shop."

One more final white dusting was spread.

"I might do the same."

The aasimar and half-drow laughed.

"We'll keep an eye out, Lif," Jhelnae said.

"It is nice to try a new look," Aleina said. "Having at least one of you understand that is nice. Thanks, Lif."

The ghost did not respond, having focused again on the game of dragon chess. Surash had finally made his move and now the spirit player quickly responded. One of the white knight pieces slid across the board to a new position. The alchemist's brow furrowed, and his long tongue flicked out to lick his lips.

"That was a good move," he said. "A good move."

"Anyway," the aasimar said. "Laeral said she could magically regrow our hair if we hated it. So, we thought we'd try something new."

"Did she just refer to the Open Lord as Laeral?" Dawnbringer mentally asked. "Not by her title, not as Lady Silverhand, but just Laeral?"

"She did," Kuhl thought back.

"Interesting," the sword telepathically sent. "One trip to a beauty treatment and they are on a first name basis? Just what did they get to talking about while there?"

Having not gone with them to the Temple, the half-elf didn't know. But since the Open Lord had suggested they meet there when they'd used the sending spell scroll she'd given, their meeting with Zardoz Zord-Jarlaxle had probably been part of that discussion.

"So," the half-elf said, lowering his voice so only those immediately present could hear. "You reported to the Open Lord about our meeting on the Eyecatcher?"

Aleina and Jhelnae nodded.

"What did she say?" he asked.

"She is skeptical," the aasimar said, shrugging, and also keeping her voice down. "Skeptical about this supposed hoard, skeptical, of course, that Jarlaxle plans on giving it to her if he finds it. But she did say it matched whispers her network has gathered and the outbreak of a gang war between the Xanathar and a faction of the Zhentarim. She said she'll let us know if she needs anything else from us but, unless we stumble across something, I think our part in all this is done."

"Everyone is gossiping about this not-so-secret rumored hoard," Fargas snorted. "That alone tells you there is nothing to it all. Everyone likes the idea of falling into sudden wealth and using it to make all their troubles and headaches go away. My guess is that this Jarlaxle character knows that and knows even a centuries old daughter of a goddess is not immune to it. So, he gave you all a tale to feed to her to spur on her speculative greed."

"Maybe," the half-drow said, stretching and yawning. "It has been a long day," she said. "I just want to sit down, relax with a glass of wine, and finish my book about the Silver Fox."

"That sounds good," Aleina. "I'm almost done with the book about elven desires."

"Trade when we are done?" the half-drow asked.

"Of course," the aasimar said.

They headed for the stairs.

"I wonder if either of them has even cracked open that book on the ecology of the High Forest," Dawnbringer mused.

Your sarcasm," Kuhl thought back. "Is very helpful."

"Well then," his sword laughed in his mind. "You're welcome."

"How do you like that?" Fargas asked, wiping at the flour on the bar with a rag. "One ups us in compliments on their hair, then leaves me to clean up his mess."

The rag was yanked out of the halfling's grasp by an invisible hand, which then set about cleaning the remains of the flour.

"Between you, me, Surash, and the traitorous ghost who will probably write everything we say to them," the halfling said. "I preferred their hair long."

"Me too," Kuhl said.

"Same here," the alchemist said absently, still focused on the dragon chess board.

"I was trying to think of a polite way of saying that when they walked in," the half-elf said. "But I decided just to keep my mouth shut instead."

"That worked out well," Fargas said.

"Yeah," Kuhl sighed.

Flour was sprinkled on the area just cleaned.

"You three are boring," the spectral hand wrote. "And unimaginative."

"See," the halfling said. "Traitorous."

The rag re-cleaning the bar top flew at Fargas. Even though he caught it, flour sprayed on his face. The companions shared a collective laugh, even Surash broke focus from his game to chuckle.

"So," the halfling said as he dusted flour off his face. "Friends with the Open Lord? You think you can ask her to get some of the guilds off our back? Everyone wants their cut! You've got the Fellowship of Innkeepers, then the Vintner's, Distillers', and Brewers' Guild, and even the Guild of Butchers wants extra coin for their deliveries. Kraddoc is always trying to offload spirits he couldn't sell anywhere else to us. At least Jinny, his scribe, makes his visits bearable. You've seen her. Tiefling with spectacles. Those horns, that tail in contrast with the spectacles. Just the right mix of cute and proper with a hint of naughty. Am I right?"

"Did that guildmaster have a scribe with him?" Kuhl asked. "I didn't notice."

"Well, that's a lie," Dawnbringer said in his mind.

"You're a paladin and so, not surprisingly, a terrible liar," the halfling said.

"Terrible," Lif echoed, scrawling in the remains of the flour.

"As for the Open Lord thing," Kuhl said, ignoring his sword, the bartender, and the ghost. "She has more important things to worry about than helping us dodge the accustomary guild fees."

"Easy for you to say," Fargas said. "You aren't running the business. Fine, whatever. At least tell me she paid you all well for being her messengers."

The half-elf's silence response made the halfling groan.

"You're working for free?" he asked, voice incredulous.

"It's more like the subject never came up," Kuhl said. "But she might have paid the donations to the Temple of Beauty for Aleina's and Jhelnae's hair. That would be something at least."

"Trickster's Toes!" Fargas said, shaking his head. "An entire city treasury at her disposal and she might have paid for a hair styling? One that we, resident ghost excluded, like less than what they had before? I need to retire from tavern keeping, no matter my promise to Yondalla to stop adventuring if I made it out of that spider cocoon. You people are lost without me."

The halfling looked up as the bell on the main door to the taproom jingled as it swung open.

"Speaking of tavern keeping duty," he said. "It calls."

Two half-elves entered, one a regular and a neighbor, Tally Fellbranch, the carpenter who owned the Bent Nail. Sawdust and wood shavings decorated his clothes and his red brown hair. The other with him was obviously his brother, perhaps older, it was hard to tell with half-elves, but definitely more stoic in demeanor.

"Tally," Fargas called out. "Earlier than normal, but a pleasure all the same to see you. What will it be?"

"Actually, we're here to see all of you," the carpenter said. "But a couple of tankards of Spider Gullet Golden while we talk would be great."

"Us?" Kuhl and Fargas asked in unison, both pointing at themselves.

They gave each other a confused look. The half-elf could think of no reason the carpenter would want to talk to them specifically. Then he thought he understood.

"Wait," he said. "Did Sky order another sign?"

The halfling gave a snort of frustration.

"The answer is no," he said. "The sign she has is already enough of an eyesore. We'll talk to her, pay you for any work completed, but stop work immediately and ignore any other order she gives you."

"Sign?" Tally asked. "Oh, the sign for the detective agency. No. She didn't order another sign. My brother came by and asked if I knew you all, then asked if I could introduce him to you."

The collective gazes of the companions shifted to the stoic brother.

"My name is Melannor Fellbranch," the brother said. "I am the groundskeeper of Phaulkonmere in the Southern Ward. My mistress is Lady Jeryth Phaulkon. She sent me to fetch Kuhl Nightstar, Aleina Dlusker, Jhelnae Mizzrym, Red Sky in the Morning, Fargas Rumblefoot, and the alchemist Surash."

"Me as well?" Surash asked, looking up from his game.

"If you are one of those named," Melannor said. "Then yes."

"That is a very specific list of names," Fargas said. "How does she know us and what does she want?"

"I believe she wants you for a task," the groundskeeper said. "And she told me if you asked about why you specifically, she said you owed her mistress a favor for being granted a boon and she would like to call it in."

"Boon?" the halfling asked. "What boon?"

"Something about riding unicorns in the High Forest," Melannor said.

Kuhl, Fargas and Surash exchanged looks. They had taken part in the Wild Ride on the night of Greengrass, which was meant as a boon to the faithful of the goddess Mielikki, something none of them were.

"The mistress of your mistress," the half-elf said. "She wouldn't be…"

He trailed off.

"A goddess?" the groundskeeper asked. "She would. Lady Jeryth Phaulkon is her Chosen."

The halfling closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment.

"Anyone could have saved me from that cocoon," he muttered. "It could have been deep gnomes in need of a surface partner in gem trading, a pack of dwarves looking for a lucky party member, or even a drow priestess with a penchant for halfling pleasure slaves. But, oh no, I just had to get rescued by this group."

"If this is a bad time," Tally said, apologetically. "My brother and I could come back tomorrow."

He was clearly uncomfortable, but his brother's impassive expression was expectant and patient. He meant to finish the task given to him.

"It's fine," Kuhl assured. "He gets like this sometimes."

"By sometimes," Surash said. "He means daily."

Sighing, Fargas opened his eyes and forced a smile.

"Well, best not to keep a goddess waiting," he said, acting like they hadn't just heard his grumbling monologue. "Lif, you think Avary, with your help, can cover the bar tonight?"

There was a pause before flour was spread and the answer came.

"I think so."

"Good," Fargas said. "Kuhl, go fetch our friends from upstairs while I get these two gentlemen some tankards of Spider Gullet Golden to sip on while they wait."

Now it was the half-elf's turn to sigh. He mounted the stairs with heavy steps. He went to the third floor first. Sky was in the library, staring at a wall with pinned drawings of a hoard of gold, Zardoz Zord, a beholder, a faceless non-descript figure with question marks around its head, and lines of twine connecting each. She was so engrossed in her diagram she didn't even turn around when Kuhl entered. The possibility of meeting the Chosen of Mielikki and the reminder of their Wild Ride on Unicorns, however, was enough to arouse her ever present curiosity and get her to abandon her musings. Knocking on Aleina and Jhelnae's door received no answer, but the half-elf found them in the next place he looked, in the den on the second floor, just settled in with their filled wine glasses and books, not too happy to learn their evening plans had changed.

"The Chosen of Mielikki?" the aasimar said after he was done explaining. "Lady Jeryth Phaulkon?"

"That is what he said," Kuhl affirmed.

"Hardly fair," the half-drow sighed.

"Not fair at all," Aleina agreed.

They shook their heads in unison and took sips from their wine glasses.

The half-elf was missing something.

"Fair?" he asked.

"Right after meeting the Chosen of Mystra," the aasimar said. "The daughter of a goddess, Lady Laeral Silverhand, we are about to meet the Chosen of Mielikki. And she is Lady Jeryth Phaulkon."

"I get it," Sky laughed, tail lashing. "This is that thing you told me about that non-tabaxi feel when they meet someone really impressive, right? Self-doubt? A feeling of inadequacy? Envy? All three? I didn't really understand when you explained it."

"There is some of that," Jhelnae said. "But I'm the daughter of someone who was a Chosen. So, I've been hardened against self-doubt and feelings of inadequacy by frequent exposure. This is more about equity or the lack of it. He already got to gape at Laeral Silverhand. Is it too much to ask that the next Chosen we meet could be male?"

"Gape at?" Kuhl said. "I didn't gape at the Open Lord."

"Yeah, right," Dawnbringer sang in his mind.

"Yeah, right," Aleina unknowingly echoed aloud. "But who can blame you? Let's see….for a male Chosen of a nature goddess - I'm imagining ruggedly handsome with a body forged by long forays into the forest, a bit of scruff on the chin, and untamed wildness in his eyes. Who says only elves should have shocking tales of desire?"

She laughed and held up her book so the cover faced the half-drow.

"I like the way you think," Jhelnae said, chuckling.

They tinked their wine glasses together, then drained them.

"But instead, she is going to be all lithe and tawny, dressed in tight curve hugging furs and leather," the half-drow said. "Bearing an enticing amount of cleavage and midriff, of course."

"Of course," the aasimar said. "She sounds like a nightmare. I hate her already."

"Me too," Jhelnae said. "Well, let's get this over with."

Their light tones showed their words were merely the familiar teasing banter they often engaged in and actually did not seem to mind meeting this Lady Jeryth Phaulkon. But the aasimar's eyes narrowed as they stood and she gave Kuhl an appraising look.

"But she is still the Chosen of a Goddess," she said. "A goddess that did grant us a boon. As such, she deserves our respect. So, before we go, change out of those abyss forsaken pants."

Those of you familiar with the module know that there are a series of faction quests that the party goes through before events again start driving the story forward. I think the way the designers envisioned it was that the party would join a faction and they would then go through the quests. I doubt, however, it works out they way for most play throughs. Our party, of course, all wanted to join different factions. So we ended up doing quests from all different factions. Plus, certain quests sound way more fun then others. So I'm guessing DMs mix and match. I'm choosing to mix and match as well.

I think I might use some of the quests to introduce the various villains as well. Haven't decided yet. Have to think about it more.

Edit - I added some cues to show Aleina and Jhelnae were just joking around when they were talking about preemptively hating Jeryth Phaulkon. She thought it was stereotypical 'catty' behavior and found it off putting. It was intended as light banter the two often engage in.