“As for my name, I am called Kovkorin,” the Tiefling said. “Kovkorin or cough-korin?” Erwen asked. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance of course,” Kovkorin said with a mock bow. “Now, who are Lorcan’s vassals in Waterdeep?” Siegfried asked. “Well, as I understand it, Lorcan is something of a collector,” Kovkorin said. “But his collection runs thin in Waterdeep. Loreloth was his main agent here in town, in a pact with that cambion.” “Is that the entirety of Lorcan’s agents in Waterdeep to your knowledge?” Siegfried asked, hiding his disappointment. “To my knowledge?” Kovkorin’s red and black eyes twinkled in an asynchronously, off-putting manner. “Yes.” Siegfried returned his smile. “And outside of your knowledge?” Kovkorin chuckled. “Now, how could I answer such a question, truthfully?” “Truthfully,” Siegfried said. Kovkorin smiled again. “Well, truthfully I can say that I’m not all that familiar with Lorcan and his machinations. As for the members of the Hand of Nessus…” “Technically I asked for the names of all those affiliated with the Hand of Nessus, not just its members,” Siegfried said. “Yes, affiliates, affiliates…” Kovkorin trailed off again. “As for the affiliates of the Hand of Nessus, let’s start by saying that many of its digits and other appendages appear to have been amputated of late. I’m sure you don’t know what I am talking abou-wait, is sarcasm allowed under the zone of truth?” Varien glared. “Right, well let me rephrase. You have decimated their ranks.” “That’s the thing with amputation,” Siegfried said. “If you’re trying to get rid of the rot, you have to cut out the entire infection, or else the rot remains to regrow and spread. So, I’m asking for the names of all those that the Hand of Nessus touches. As in, a business relationship. A contact. A benefactor.” “Yes, of course,” Kovkorin said. “Well, obviously there was Loreloth. There is Zoleth the Drow who was waiting in the wings for Loreloth to be removed from power.” Siegfried frowned. Zoleth was a name he was not familiar with. Kovkorin continued. “Of course, you would remember Brevindon Margaster. There was Veluthian Melshimber, and what was that other one’s name? Bowgentle? Bowmantle?” The Tiefling stroked his left horn thoughtfully and shrugged. “If I’m saying it, it must be true.” He sat up straighter and snapped his fingers. “Yes, Belivar Bowmantle! And Agleth the Tiefling, Arn Xalrondar, Gysheer Omfreys, Vaelle Lurval, and Seffia Naelryke. Holiver Tornrudder. Kaeth Warloon.” “Do we know any of these people?” Siegfried asked. “You mentioned earlier that you’d been schooled in the way of interrogation techniques by various secret societies and the like?” Kovkorin asked. “I did,” Siegfried replied. “Then you should know that any secret society worth its salt will organize itself in such a way that if a member is captured, they are unable to finger more than a few associates. Let’s just say that the Hand of Nessus is not worth its salt, and I’d be surprised if most of those people I mentioned lived to see sunrise.” Siegfried looked at Harianna and Renaer. “Sounds like Lorcan is doing some cleanup. Do we need to send guards to people’s houses?” “Your fixation with Lorcan I find quite amusing,” Kovkorin chuckled. “I recognize the name Vaelle Lurale. She’s a florist in the Trades Ward,” Lady Harianna said. “Makes rather nice bouquets, actually.” “If she’s in danger as a potential witness we should be sending the guards to bring her into protective custody or arrest,” Siegfried said. “Arrest?” Renaer said. “As distasteful as it is, worshipping the Devil is not a crime in Waterdeep.” “No, but the Hand of Nessus did try to destroy Waterdeep not a tenday ago,” Seigfried said. Kovkorin chuckled darkly at that. Siegfried tossed a coin in the air to hear what the joke was, casting detect thoughts. The Tiefling’s surface thoughts were focused on the notion of Waterdeep as a smoking ruin. Destroy Waterdeep? You cannot rule over a smoking crater . “Well, I do have some pull with the City Watch,” Renaer mused. “Perhaps I can mobilize them.” “Don’t waste your time,” Kovkorin said with a dark chuckle. Siegfried could see in Kovkorin’s mind’s eye the banner of the Order of the Gilded Eye. “And how would the Gilded Eye learn of the names you gave up in this game of ours?” Siegfried said. Kovkorin’s laugh was choked off. I’ve said too much. Don’t think anything incriminating, idiot. “Siegfried, are your knees sore?” Varien asked. “Because it sounds like you’ve been jumping to conclusion.” “Well, it’s my turn,” Siegfried said, glaring at the Tiefling. “If Lorcan and the Hand of Nessus are too small-time, you can tell me the name of who you are working for.” “I serve a Shadowed Master,” Kovkorin said. “That’s a description, not a name,” Siegfried pressed. “That’s the name I know him by,” Kovkorin said. Siegfried could see a shadowy humanoid figure with eyes like molten gold. “How does that work for payroll?” Siegfried asked. “Everyone looks the other way as money exchanges hands,” Kovkorin said. “Like I said, once captured, very little can be given away. Apparently, my master was wise, because here I sit!” Varien frowned. “Give me the location of this shadowed master.” “Neverwinter,” Kovkorin snapped. “I think we deserve an address in Neverwinter,” Varien said. “I’ve answered your question truthfully,” Kovkorin. “Touche,” Erwen said. “Indeed,” Kovkorin said, turning in his chair to regard Erwen. “Speaking of questions, you had a question for me. My answer is that cats are superior to dogs in every conceivable way.” Erwen slapped him with primal savagery , burning the Tiefling’s face with acid. “Ouch!” Kovorkin groaned. “Why are you hitting me? I was cooperating!” “I’ll heal your wounds,” Bob said tiredly. “But, now you can tell me what you know about the Stone of Golorr.” “Ah,” Kovkorin said. “Now we come to it. The Stone is an artifact older than time itself, older than the world. But which world, that’s the question. Older than recorded history. An alien artifact that hungers for knowledge. It is the ultimate keeper of secrets.” “And why did you think he’d know where it was?” Bob asked, pointing at Renaer. Kovkorin shrugged. “He’s the son of Dagult Neverember, late the supposed owner of this item. Or so I’ve been told.” “What does it look like?” Varien asked. “I’ve only heard of it by rough description,” Kovkorin said. “Small, grey-ish green, can fit in the palm of one’s hand, with three eyes.” “So, we’re looking for a small rock with eyes?” Varen said. “Now you’re getting it,” Kovkorin said. Siegfried prestidigitated a small object into his hand. “You mean this thing?” Kovkorin’s narrowed. “You’re making my job easy!” “Well, if you want it, give us some information worth something,” Siegfried said. He tossed the rock into the air, and it disappeared. Kovkorin’s face fell. “Ah, you’re funning me. But back to the matter at hand. We thought Renaer had a key to this Stone. One of its three eyes.” “So the Stone is in pieces?” Siegfried asked. “Apparently the eyes are detachable,” Kovkorin said. He sighed. “It’s complicated.” “Yeah,” Siegfried said. “I don’t know what this Tiefling is talking about,” Renaer said. To Varien, it seemed like Renaer was genuinely confused. But the younger Neverember was quick on his feet. His hand strayed to his throat. “My locket?” he said. “Is that what this is about?” Siegfried saw a brief flicker of a memory – a hand snapping the locket from around Renaer’s neck. “Strip search him, he has it,” Siegfried ordered. Erwen smiled. “No, get off!” Kovkorin yelped. “Found it,” Erwen said. He held out the elaborate ivory mourning locket. In it was a small cameo painting of a beautiful woman with a strong familial resemblance to Renaer. “What’s so special about the locket?” Varien asked. “This locket was a gift from my father, and under normal circumstances I would have pawned it or thrown it away, but since it was a memory of my mother, I hung on to it.” He looked at Kovkorin and considered the possible hiding spots. “Though now I’m having second thoughts.” Siegfried inspected it. There was nothing outwardly eye-like about the locket itself. Siegfried cast detect magic and detected a faint aura of magic emanating from within the locket. “Renaer, may I break this?” Siegfried asked. Renaer looked pained. “I’d rather you didn’t to be honest.” “There’s something else inside there other than a portrait of your mother,” Siegfried said, handing the locket to Renaer. “But I’m sure we can find a way to extract it without wrecking this heirloom.” Renaer was staring at the locket, rubbing a thumb over it. “I should have known that that man would sully even my mother’s memory with his nefarious self-serving plans.” He turned and walked over to the nearest window, watching the rain beat against it. “It’s certainly one way to hide an eldritch key while ensuring that you would never lose it,” Siegfried said, “the bastard.” “He played me again,” Renaer was muttering to himself. “Who else do you think has pieces?” Siegfried asked. “Who else is on your list of names? Is that why you were at the Nidris household the other night?” Kovkorin blinked. “Oh, that. That was an intimidation move, pure and simple. We wanted the boy.” “For?” Siegfried said. “Just because I can’t tell a lie doesn’t mean I’m just going to volunteer information,” Kovkorin said. “Although I guess I just did.” “Do you like young boys, Kovkorin?” Siegfried asked. “You’re a madman! I may be a devil-worshiper but at least I’m not rude!” Kovkorin said. “What did you want the boy for?” “Oh, it was a simple ‘join the cult and we won’t harm the child’ sort of proposal,” Kovkorin said. “Yes, that’s the usual,” Siegfried said. “That’s why we’re more successful than the Hand of Nessus,” Kovkorin said. “Better leverage.” “Yes, they are more of a bowling club than an actual secret society,” Siegfried said. “That’s the difference between Waterdeep and Neverwinter,” Kovkorin said. “Here, there are far too many idle rich laying about with nothing better to do than play diabolist.” “Like the Cassalanters?” Siegfried said. “Why would you bring up the Cassalanters?” Kovkorin said. “Want to play another hand?” Siegfried indicated the cards. “Are they involved or not?” Varien asked. “If you don’t answer, you merely confirm their involvement.” “Why don’t you proceed under that assumption and test it at your convenience?” Kovkorin said. “Your cowardice knows no bounds,” Varien said. “You would have stronger men speak for you?” “Varien, we will make an interrogator out of you yet!” Siegfried beamed. “That was very good!” “The Hand of Nessus wishes they could bring a family like the Cassalanters onside,” Kovkorin said. “They had to settle for the Margasters and the Melshimbers. Bah.” “What was their deal, by the way?” Siegfried asked. “Markosian’s plan, that is.” Kovkorin chuckled. “If he was so small time, what was it?” Siegfried asked. “Hang on, have we been mixing up the Hand of Nessus and the Sinister Seven of Nessus this whole time? Kovkorin, resolve that dispute.” “I have no hand in that fight,” Kovkorin said. “You haven’t yet told us everything about the Stone of Golorr,” Bob interjected. “Was Renaer the only other person you were investigating?” “So, is this what the Gilded Eye wanted to get from Neverember, and why the Gilded Eye was torturing members of the Burning Dawn?” Siegfried mused aloud. Erwen frowned. “I think we need to talk about the brand I found on this one’s chest,” he pointed at Kovkorin. “Brand?” Siegfried said. “Yeah, when I was searching him,” Erwen said. “He had hidden it under a flap of preserved skin, but I could see it plain as day.” Varien spun the chair and pulled the Tiefling’s shirt open to reveal a scarred brand in the centre of Kovkorin’s chest, an infernal triangular symbol with which he was familiar. “The Ashmadai,” Varien said. “I saw these symbols painted around Neverwinter.” Kovkorin bowed. “The symbol of Asmodeus,” Siegfried said. “Asmodeus significantly outranks Levistus, that’s for certain. So, you’re Ashmadai? I thought you were a Hand of Nessus!” Kovkorin sat up straighter in his chair. “I thought my affiliation would have been obvious,” he said. “The Hand of Nessus, or what’s left of it, is going to be under new management. They made a hash of things in Waterdeep.” “So tell me, Ashmadai, something’s been bothering me. What’s up with that Dread Circle up north? Is that you, or is that Thay?” Siefried asked. I hate those Red Wizards , Kovkorin’s thoughts suggested. “Let’s just say that Markosian chose his allies poorly,” Kovkorin said. “So then just who did Markosian work for?” Varien whispered to Siegfried. “Well, it hardly matters now, doesn’t it?” Kovkorin chuckled. Varien pulled out his silver flask . “Do you know what is inside this?” he asked. Kovkorin shrugged. Varien knew that he was capable of lying within his zone of truth , at least for the moment. Flashes of power went through Kovkorin’s mind, Siegfried noted, along with fearsomeness. “Interesting,” the half-orc said. To Varien he asked, “Who’s left on your sword?” Varien said. “We know Yancazi is at the Crags, Lorcan is still about, Azazel is still about, Baazka is still at the castle near Daggerford, and then there’s Rimmon and of course Levistus.” He pocketed the flask and pulled out his shiny red rock. “Do you know what this is?” Kovkorin shook his head. Varien put the rock away. He pulled out the rose everlasting . “Anything?” He waved it in front of the Tiefling, who shook his head again. Varien shrugged and put it away. “There is no love lost between us and the Red Ziards,” Kovkorin said. “This stone might end the nightmares. How? I don’t know. When? I’m not sure. Why? Who could say?” “So Thay made the Dread Circle, but didn’t complete it, and currently the Ashmadai want the Stone of Golorr to complete it, or disrupt it?” Kovkorin guarded his surface thoughts. Siegfried grabbed Kovkorin’s head. “Hold still, I’m going to read your mind.” To the paladin he said. “Cast bane , Varien. We need to wear his mental defences down.” Varien cast bane . Siegfried invaded Kovkorin’s thoughts. “Who else were you investigating?” Siegfried asked. Looming large in the Tiefling’s mind was the symbol of the Xanathar Thieves’ Guild, a circle with ten spokes radiating out of it. Siegfried also caught a glimpse of a shifty-looking gnome holding a hand crossbow. “Who are your business associates?” Siegfried asked. A strong image of the immense statue known of the God Catcher was front and centre in Kovkorin’s mind. “Oh, we forgot to check out the God-Catcher statue,” Siegfried said, putting a hand to his head. The final image was the tear-streaked face of Lady Ammalia Cassalanter slamming a door. Kovkorin grunted and forced Siegfried from his mind. “That’s fine,” Siegfried said, pulling out another coin and flicking it at Kovkorin’s head. “How did you get the Cassalanters on board?” he asked. Kovkorin gritted his teeth. “Like I said earlier, children can be used as leverage,” he laughed. Various repellent thoughts about children flashed through the Tiefling’s mind. “Where’s Osvaldo Cassalanter right now?” “His soul is in the Hells,” Kovkorin said. “At least, that’s what I’ve been told.” Siegfried looked to Lady Harianna. “What information do you need about this?” Lady Harianna frowned. “The Cassalanters are very powerful, with powerful friends. If they are involved in some kind of plot, we would need hard evidence.” “I want a paper trail. I want hard proof that we can take to Court,” Siegfried said. To Kovkorin he asked “What sort of evidence would you use to blackmail the Cassalanters materially?” Kovkorin smirked. “Blackmail? Such an ugly word. That said, if such a thing existed, a contract?” “Yeah,” Siegfried said. “Where would they keep their contract, what are the terms, and who is it with?” he asked. “That’s a bit above my pay grade,” Kovkorin said. “And that’s a big ‘if.’” “Now, I remember Brevindon said Loreloth was in this for the money,” Siegfried said. “What can a devil get for one shy of a million gold and one shy of a hundred souls?” “Ah. If I had to guess, perhaps a buyout,” Kovkorin said. “A buyout?” Siegfried repeated. “You mean as in an escape clause from a contract?” “It’s possible,” Kovkorin said. “And perhaps if one put up their son as a security for such an infernal contract, one could get their son back for one shy of a million gold and one shy of a hundred souls?” Siegfried asked. “Who could put a price on a child’s life?” Kovkorin said. “Your people do!” Siegfried replied. Siegfried knew that one million gold was well beyond even a princely sum, beyond the reach of an individual noble family, even one as wealthy as the Cassalanters. “It’s easier to kill a hundred people than to collect a million gold pieces,” he said. Kovkorin snorted. “Loreloth was very much under the impression there was a score to be had,” Siegfried said. He turned to Renaer. “How rich is your dad?” “Pretty rich,” Renaer admitted. “After my father was deposed, agents of Laeral Silverhand visited me to ask about my father’s rather eccentric accounting practices during his time as Open Lord. You’ll recall that the Masked Lords ended Dagult’s rule over a naval procurement scandal. The sums were outrageous.” “And you truthfully didn’t know you were carrying a key to your father’s vault?” Siegfried asked. “If my father did something,” Renaer started and then shook his head. “Assuming my father did steal or embezzle from Waterdeep’s treasury, then that sounds like the score Loreloth was talking about. If he had a pile of money stashed after his time as Open Lord, that could be the cause of this Grand Game I keep hearing about.” Siegfried turned back to Kovkorin. “Is this Grand Game a heist on Dagult Neverember’s secret vault? A secret gold stash, a hoard, even?” “Our interest is in the Stone, and its eyes. That is Neverember’s Enigma, at least to us. Was the Stone used to cover up a crime? Maybe, but money does not interest me. I am motivated by other inducements.” “So other than Renaer, who else has a part of that stone?” Siegfried asked. He thought about the images bouncing around in the Tiefling’s mind. “The Xanathar Guild, and this gnome. Is that Dalakhar?” Renaer nodded. “Dalakhar is a name I know. One of my father’s agents.” “What do you think, Varien, should I expose this whole game on the public record tomorrow and see what chaos comes out of it?” Siegfried asked. Varien shrugged. “I’m not brave enough for politics, Siegfried.” “So, where does the Stone of Golorr fit in?” Siegfried asked. Suddenly he shuddered. The room was upturned into an ashen mockery of itself. His companions were gone, and he was alone. Siegfried’s breath fogged from the sudden coldness of death that pressed in from all sides. Ash swept up from the corners of the room into a vaguely humanoid shape that drifted menacingly towards Siegfried. In its clawed hands it gripped something like a book. “Our Queen says this knowledge will hurt the bastard Neverember,” the spectre said. “Take it.” Suddenly the room was back to normal. Siegfried expelled a breath of ash and shook his head to clear it. “The Stone of Golorr eats knowledge,” Siegfried said with certainty. “It’s an artifact from ancient Abeir, the mirror twin world overlaid on Toril, our home. Out of synchronicity, that is. Our worlds overlap, and this artifact has a strong connection to the aboleths, those ancient primordial aberrations older than the gods themselves. Creatures from the Far Realm. This Stone may even be the personification of an ancient Aboleth, that eats knowledge. And what it eats, what it comes to know, the world forgets. Possession of this object is extremely risky and it can be accessed only under carefully-controlled rituals, lest its owner be forgotten by the universe.” “Oh, lord,” Renaer said wearily. “I’m beginning to consider the possibility of really kicking over the hornet’s nest,” Siegfried said. “Where the hell did your dad get an Aboleth relic?” He asked Renaer. “Great question,” Renaer said. “Part of his Enigma, perhaps? I know he was always sending off agents to Candlekeep on eldritch fact-finding missions.” “That explains why nobody knows where this hoard of coins is, if the Stone can make people forget things.” Siegfried said. “It’s definitely something I cannot allow to continue existing.” He collected his thoughts. “So we know the Cassalanters, the Gilded Eye, the Xanathar Guild, and Asmodeus are after this history-eating machine known as the Stone of Golorr.” “The Durinbolds were also interested in tracking Renaer, remember,” Varien said. “The Durinbolds?” Renaer repeated. “Interesting. I will point out that my father and I have not spoken in years, and the list of my father’s allies in Waterdeep has grown shorter of late since he was deposed as Open Lord. When the Masked Lords ousted my father I thought his long, dark shadow would be gone for good. What a fool I was.” “It’s not your fault, Renaer,” Siegfried said. “And here I thought we were getting to the tail end of this. Do you know who is the current owner of Azuredge?” “That’s a name that carries weight,” Renaer said. “Yeah. I might need it,” Siegfried said. “My old friend Meloon Wardragon was the wielder of that legendary weapon,” Renaer said. Siegfried had heard of the famous sell-sword Wardragon, friend to the Blackstaff and legendary adventurer who traveled in rarified circles. A member of Force Grey, he was a descendant of Laroun, the first female warlord of Waterdeep. “Has he done anything of note recently?” Siegfried asked. “Last I heard he led an expedition into Undermountain,” Renaer said. “I told him he was getting too old for that sort of thing, but the call to adventure must be answered, even if you’ve taken one too many arrows to the knee, if you know what I mean.” Renaer rubbed his leg absently as if recalling the pain of an old wound. “Did you know that ‘taking an arrow to the knee’ is an Orcish expression for getting married?” Siegfried asked Renaer. “I did not know that,” Renaer replied. He began to chuckle. “That explains a lot about Orcs.” “Do you think I have time to track down Meloon before the Lord’s Court meets tomorrow?” “It’s possible,” Renaer says. “I’ll have to swing by the Yawning Portal tomorrow.” Siegfried sighed. “What should we do with this one?” He pointed to Kovkorin. “Let me go, since I’ve been so cooperative?” Kovkorin asked hopefully. “No!” Siegfried said incredulously. “Hey, you can’t blame a guy for trying, right?” Kovkorin said, shaking his head ruefully. “Lady Harianna, since we caught this one red-handed torturing a member of Waterdeep’s high society, would the Order of the Gauntlet be interested in questioning him?” Siegfried asked. Lady Harianna nodded. “I’m sure that Savra Belabranta would relish the opportunity to question a member of the Ashmadai.” Siegfried prestidigitated a pink bow, wrapped it around Kovkorin’s horns, and presented him to Lady Harianna. “It has been a wonderful evening.” “Indeed it has,” Lady Harianna purred. Kovkorin’s face fell as he realized he had a date with the Halls of Justice. “I need that Tiefling out of my sight,” Renaer growled. “We’ll transport him to the Halls of Justice tonight,” Siegfried said. “You will keep the locket safe?” Renaer nodded, looking at the locket. “I have a lot to think about,” he said. He gave the locket to Madrak his manservant. “Thank you for your assistance tonight,” Renaer said to Siegfried and the other adventurers. “You’re welcome. We’ll do what we can to make sure Waterdeep doesn’t get erased,” Siegfried said. “And here I thought I was just going for a night out at the theatre,” Renaer said wearily. “Renaer, there were too many nobles there for it to be just another night out,” Siegfried said with a smile.