Jaheira and Edwin traveled by foot from the Promenade upon wide stone walkways above the canals. The smell of salt filled the air, and gulls flew overhead. They had nearly the entire length of the main street, a wide walkway bustling with runners, carts, and criers; now that the weather was warming, the merchants were beginning to arrive in force.
This walkway passed places of worship mainly built for foreigners doing business in Waukeen's Promenade. Helm the Watcher, Kossuth the Firelord, and Tymora the Lady of Luck all had temples here. In addition, many small shrines paid tribute to Umberlee the Sea Bitch, Shar the Nightsinger, Chauntea the Earthmother, Yondalla the Matriarch of Halflings, and Corellon the Creator of Elves. Jaheira walked a little faster when she spotted the High Hall of the Radiant Heart nestled between two grand mansions. All these were interspersed among banks, guildhalls, moneylenders, brokers, translators, and swords for hire.
"This task reeks of busywork," Edwin said, "but Mae'Var did not entrust this to me without good reason." He was distinctly more irritated than usual, having been nearly bumped by a runner.
"He entrusted it to both of us," Jaheira said. "From what I understand, this is to be a test of my loyalty, as though I feel any. He seems to think she will try to bribe us."
"This is Athkatla," he replied, with a dismissive flourish of his hand. "One will bribe their own mother for a scrap of affection if she is demanding enough."
"Since you have described to me on multiple occasions how transactional your personal affairs are, this city must suit you well." She folded her arms.
"If you're referring to my prowess in the arts of love, Harper, then perhaps you have heard selectively."
"Believe me, any time you touch that subject, I become stone deaf."
This part of the Coin District was a marvel of engineering and an outgrowth of the Promenade, after a fashion: the Scepter District to the southeast was too expensive, the Bridge District to the west too cheap. So instead of building on the land, the architects of the old city had set these buildings on a series of raised concrete platforms that turned the shallow harbor waters into a series of canals. All foundations here were submerged into the sea, but there was no crack or flaw in them, and the buildings themselves withstood wind and wave. On top of that, the district was protected by a sea wall that only permitted small boats to pass. The result was that, when the storms came to the shores of Athkatla, this part of town was the safest.
In particular, the temple to Talos the Stormlord was popular while the waves roared and the rains fell in sheets. Not because Talos was a merciful god, however. Anytime someone, merchant or sailor, approached the Stormlord with coin in hand, they mostly wanted to avoid his wrath. The high priest of Talos regularly and loudly demanded tithes from the city and public, warning that their god would rain destruction if his demands went unheeded.
Still, that never stopped mobs from storming this place, driving the high priest away, crying extortion, vowing to purge Talos's faithful from Amn. Still, the high priesthood of Talos was always occupied again, often not a day after the last one had gone.
Currently, the head of the Talassans in Athkatla was Weathermistress Ada Oluja. Rumors swirled about her, both turbulent and malicious. Some said that she killed and ate petitioners herself. Others, that she disclosed her rivals' misdeeds to the Guard and turned them in for bounty money. Others, that she strong-armed her way into the secret Council of Six by threatening to submerge Athkatla in floodwaters.
Soon, however, she would be the mark.
Jaheira and Edwin reached the temple to Talos, a tall, imposing, well-fortified place that seemed more like a fortress. It was one of the highest points in the area, and often, during thunderstorms, a long metal pole that served as its spire glowed blue at the tip, attracting bolts of lighting. While it seemed to draw away strikes from other parts of the city, people often speculated what nefarious purposes or spells the energy fueled.
They crossed the threshold without much fuss. The inside of the Stormlord's temple was noisy, with the sound of a constant whirl of machinery emanating from a pile of giant gears. This contraption, whose purpose could only be guessed, was housed in the temple's main hall. Though this was presumably the place where the Talassans worshiped, it inspired no awe or wonder. Instead, it was poorly lit and almost claustrophobic, the only decorations being curious circular etchings chaotically rendered all over the dark grey stone floor and walls.
The place was mostly empty for now. An armored guard was stationed at every door, wearing a deep blue tabard, hard and silent: they might as well have been mechanical with the coldness to which they attended their duties. Otherwise, the only other residents were a thin, pale man wearing slubby grey and a woman supervising him.
This woman was tall and lean, wearing lush, midnight-blue velvet robes with lightning bolts embroidered in silver. A silver headdress perched upon her shrunken head — a simple skull cap covered in thin tear-shapes linked by chains so that every time she turned, one perceived a faint echo of raindrops in sight and sound.
The gear-tender's right hand wrapped around a bared copper pole. The man cried out, convulsing, hand clenched around the cool brown.
The woman yelled at him, voice low and rasping: "Idiot! This job should be a mere trifle for a true follower of the Stormlord! Affirm your faith here and now!"
She reached up, and her long bell sleeve fell away, revealing a pale arm with visible blue veins just under her skin — and angry, fractal branches of red winding its way down the arm's entire length. She slapped him.
He murmured, lips barely able to move: "Chaos prevail. Chaos prevail."
"Louder!" she yelled.
Incredibly, the man rallied, and his voice strengthened. "Chaos prevail! Blessed be the Stormlord! May he render me an instrument of holy destruction!"
Finally, his fingers uncurled from the copper pole. He bent over, biting his lip, clutching his right hand with his left, clearly holding in a whimper. A sharp eye could even spot his eyes reddening, tears withheld.
"Talos has spared you for another day," the woman said, abruptly turning on her heel towards Jaheira and Edwin's approach. "Return to your duties, fool."
A gentle jingling sound followed her from her head as she turned to face the newcomers. She surveyed them with a frown and only one night-black eye; the other was covered with a white eyepatch.
However, Edwin's eyes went straight for the woman's chest, or to be precise, the large blue necklace around the woman's neck. It was made of several deep blue disks the size of plums strung together with silver wire. The central disk was silver and inlaid with Talos's holy symbol: three lightning bolts around a small disc.
This woman was Weathermistress Ada, and the assignment from Mae'Var was clear. Jaheira and Edwin were to return to Mae'Var with the Talassan's necklace, or not return at all.