"One last thing before you depart," Open Lord Laeral Silverhand said. "Bear in mind the God Catcher is an important landmark in Waterdeep and features quite prominently in our city's promotional materials. It wouldn't do to damage the statue further, if you can at all help it." Siegfried nodded and shot Erwen a sidelong glance as the party left the Open Lord’s chambers. Theryn pulled Siegfried and Varien aside for a moment. “I have some leads of my own to follow up on. You handle the business at the God Catcher and we shall catch up later.” Varien and Siegfried nodded. The thoroughfare leading to the God Catcher was densely packed with people, market stalls, and street performers. A crowd gathered around one market stall in particular, and the occasional fish sailed over the crowd then disappeared behind them on the other side. The scene was scored by the harsh sounds of aggressive street music played by a duo standing in the shadow of the God Catcher. One played a shawm, a woodwind horn with a piercing tone, and the other played a sackbut, a trombone-like brass horn with a warm, smooth sound while stomping on a contraption that banged a kickdrum and cymbal. Erwen began to dance vigorously in time with the music, and to his surprise he netted a few tossed silver coins from passers-by. Erwen responded by dancing with even more vigour, and succeeded in stepping on Alec’s toes by mistake. Alec winced. “Sorry,” Erwen said. A veritable staircase of scaffolding had been built around the God Catcher, leading from the street level to all stories of the sprawling and disjointed inn built atop the statue’s reclining torso. The staircase wound its way up the statue’s outstretched arm like a sleeve, terminating somewhere at the wrist of the statue’s right hand, which seemed to hold aloft a smooth stone sphere. From other angles, however, it was clear that the sphere was in fact hovering some twenty feet above the open palm of the statue’s hand. Siegfried knew from experience that the God Catcher Inn was an overpriced tourist trap of an inn, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t cozy and clean. A warm fire usually burned merrily within its hearth, it serveed good ale and passable food, and its award-nominated wine had been praised by the Vintners’, Distillers’, and Brewers’ Guild—a fact that its bartender never failed to mention. Siegfried’s perceptive gaze also picked out the subtly increased presence of the City Watch, including the two unflappable investigators the group had crossed paths with earlier that morning: Barnibus Blastwind and Saeth Crowley. The pair were managing a cordon that kept pedestrians from straying too close to the wooden stairs that led up to the main level of the Inn. Siegfried ushered Bob over to the investigators. “Warduke Alagondar and my partner Warduke Trevelyan will be taking over command of the scene.” “Wardukes both? No relation?” Saeth quipped. “Report,” Siegfried replied. Barnibus cleared his throat. “Gentlesirs, my partner Saeth Cromley and I secured the area as requested. No one’s gone in or out of the God Catcher Inn since we set up the cordon.” “All right,” Siegfried nodded curtly. “Varien, how far does your divine sense reach?” “About sixty feet,” Varien said. Behind them, Erwen thought very hard about altering self into Lady Silverhand. “Small man,” Siegfried said warningly. “No.” He cast a message spell to Erwen. “There are two kinds of people who laugh at the law. Those who make the laws, and those who break the laws. Bob and I are of the first type.” “Which one am I?” Erwen replied. “The second type. So please refrain from breaking the law unless we’re all breaking them together.” “Say ‘good dog,’” Erwen said. “Good dog,” Siegfried said. Erwen beamed. “I can reconnoiter the statue,” Varien said, calling for the Arcetalos. The crowd oohed and ahhed as the phoenix alighted on the cobblestone street. “The Hand of Nessus’s headquarters is likely in the statue’s right hand,” Siegfried said. “They’re not without their cleverness, I suppose.” “Right,” Varien said, climbing aboard the Arcetalos. “Let’s see what we can see.” “If you do something like cast fireball or do a smite, any sort of signal, I can teleport the rest of us to your position,” Siegfried said. Varien nodded. “If I’m not back in five minutes, just wait longer.” With a fiery sweep of its wings, the phoenix launched skyward. Varien flew past the windows of the God Catcher Inn and peered inside. The interior of the inn looked completely deserted, though there were flagons of ale and plates of food sitting at every table and along the bar, as well as a merry fire roaring in the hearth. “No tourists? At this time of day?” Varien murmured to himself. “Hmmm.” He knew that on an ordinary day people would be eating a mid-afternoon meal with vigour in a place like this. He arced around the rear of the inn, where it was fastened securely to the near-level section of the statue’s lower abdomen, and spied two bodies lying on the stone near what looked like a service entrance. “Huh,” Varien said. “But we go up. Keep swooping, Arcetalos.” His mount complied and Varien flew around the outstretched arm of the statue, tracking the exterior staircase bolted to the stone muscles, and drew level with the flat palm of the statue, above which floated the great stone sphere. Varien spied two doors, one leading into the statue’s thumb, the other leading into the index finger, with a flat space in the crux between the digits. He reckoned he was about 100 feet from street level. Fiendsbane rattled. I got a whiff of something I don’t like. Varien opened up his divine sense . He detected a fiendish reek coming from the thumb and flew in for a closer look. At first, he wasn’t surprised to see a disgusting rime of guano encrusting the statue – birds being birds after all – but it was soon apparent that whatever creature had been roosting there, was no bird but some sort of flying fiend. “Ugh, is that devil shit I smell?” Varien shook his head. Fiendsbane rattled. Satanic spoor. “Definitely desecrated,” Varien said. He ordered Arcetalos to land and dismounted on the space between the thumb and finger. Arcetalos perched atop the palm, preening. He kicked open the portal and entered what looked like living quarters chiseled into the interior of the thumb. Matchstick furniture was packed inside along with a chest that was giving off a scent of desecration all its own. He pried the chest open with the toe of his boot and peered hesitantly inside. Nestled amid the folded robes and linens was a golden, ruby-studded symbol of Asmodeus. Varien sighed. Varien reached for the symbol, then thought better of it. He drew his sword. I agree with this plan , Fiendsbane said. Varien brought the sword down on the symbol, unleashing a divine smite . There was a flash of brimstone and shrieking exhalation as the symbol melted away to slag at the touch of Fiendsbane’s blade. Only the rubies were left intact in the molten slurry of gold that scorched the chest’s contents. Varien crossed the expanse to the index finger’s door and yanked the door open. He was presented with an opaque roiling morass of fog that obscured the interior beyond the door. “Curious,” Varien muttered. He cast a light cantrip on his sword and, steeling himself, he strode purposefully into the murky mist. Down at street level, the rest of the party watched Varien and the Arcetalos swoop around the statue in a circular fashion, landing just out of sight near the outstretched right hand of the statue. They waited. And then they waited a few moments more. Erwen grew impatient. He tugged on Siegfried’s scarf. “I don’t think a signal is coming. Should we investigate?” “I know Varien is tougher than nearly anything and would sooner blow the hand apart than allow himself to be captured by dark forces,” Siegfried said. “We wait.” Erwen pouted. Alec was distracted. “Big statue. Naked man. Interesting,” he said, peering up at the statue. “Half-naked anyway,” Bob said. “He’s buried up to his waist.” Alec caught a whiff of the lunchtime kitchen smells wafting from the Inn. “Time to follow my nose.” He strode across the square towards the wooden stairway. Erwen grinned and rushed ahead of the barbarian. Siegfried sighed. “I’ll stay here and teleport to whoever needs me first.” He called to Erwen. “Small Man! Remember when I said there was a time and a place to do stupid stuff? Now is the time, and that’s the place!” He pointed at the inn. Erwen hopped up the staircases to get to the main level of the inn. Here and there were balconies with railings that offered tourists a commanding view of the neighbourhood surrounding the statue. Smaller ladders and staircases led the way to small cottages and townhouses bolted to the exterior of the statue. Erwen saw no sign of movement as he headed to the inn’s inviting front door. “20 noses are more valuable than one!” Siegfried shouted to Erwen. Erwen entered the inn through the front door. Siegfried stood in the street, wary of pickpockets and other urchins, and manifested an aura of spirit guardians , which took the form of ashen armoured, hooded knights that surrounded him in a haunted formation. A passer-by tossed a silver at Siegfried’s feet. He did not deign to pick it up. Erwen walked inside the inn. It was well-appointed, with tables, chairs and a long bar, and its walls were festooned with hunting trophies. He could smell the inviting smells of cooked food and strong wine, but noted that the place seemed deserted. There was a hint of a burned smell coming from behind bar in the kitchen. Erwen hopped over the bar and investigated the kitchen. A number of pots and pans had been left on the stove and were now belching smoke. The kitchen staff seemed to have left in an awful hurry. Erwen spied a hunk of cheese on the butcher block prep table, and snatched it up. “Here, mousey-mousey-mousey,” he called out as he cast speak with animals. In a few moments a mouse scampered out from a hiding place along the kitchen’s floorboards and climbed up onto the countertop. Its whiskers twitched as it regarded Erwen with impatience. “I have some cheese for you!” Erwen said. The mouse cautiously approached. “Friend, answer me three questions and I’ll give you this cheese,” Erwen said. The mouse shrugged. “That’s not how this works. That’s now how any of this works! I take what I want from this kitchen, and don’t you forget it.” “You’re a mean mouse,” Erwen said. “Mean is my middle name,” the mouse replied. “Meanie Mouse,” Erwen said, and cast animal friendship . Meanie Mouse’s expression softened. “Maybe we got off on the wrong paw here,” he said. “That’s what I thought,” Erwen said. “So, answer me three questions.” “Happily!” Meanie Mouse said, sitting down and crossing his legs. Erwen broke off a third of the cheese and held it out to the mouse. “Where is everyone?” he asked. The mouse shrugged. “They all got up and left.” “Part two of my first question: how long ago?” Erwen asked. The mouse thought for a moment. “Well, how long does it take for you to set a mousetrap? About ten times that long.” “Interesting form of timekeeping you have,” Erwen said. “Some big stompers came in. Loud and angry.” Meanie Mouse said. “Second question: where did they go?” Erwen asked. “They stomped into the pantry,” Meanie Mouse said, cocking his ears in the direction of the pantry. “Across the hall. Then they disappeared. Now if you’ll excuse me, cheese up!” Erwen broke off another piece of cheese and handed it over. “Last question: is there anything else I should know before I venture into this place?” Erwen asked. The mouse shrugged. “Watch your step in the cellar. It can get dicey down there.” “You should get out of here,” Erwen said. “There are about to be a bunch of wolves sniffing around.” “Wolves!?” Meanie Mouse shrieked. He grabbed up the three pieces of cheese, toting them on his shoulders like a pedlar, and hoofed it back to his mouse hole. “Thanks for the cheese!” he chirped over his shoulder. Erwen surveyed the kitchen once more and noticed some streaks of fresh blood along the floor, as though something had been dragged through the kitchen towards the service exit at the rear of the building. Erwen left the kitchen, hopped over the counter and went back to the inn’s front door. “I think we’re going to need a few more people!” Siegfried turned to Barnibus and Saeth. “We’re going in. Signal us if you see fireworks from atop the statue, and if our friend returns, tell him where we’ve gone. And send backup if you don’t hear from us in ten minutes.” Barnibus nodded smartly. “The City Watch has your back, of course.” “Actually, if we’re not back in ten minutes, send for Force Grey,” Siegfried said. Siegfried, Alec and Bob joined Erwen inside the inn. “Alec, there are several walls here that shouldn’t be here anymore,” Siegfried said, retrieving his battering ram. Alec began to do some warm-up stretches. “If it helps, find a reason to get angry at that wall of shelves over there,” Siegfried said. Alec spied the bloodstains. “What’s this?” “Never mind that, there are people in the basement of this place,” Erwen replied. Siegfried looked around. The only other object of note in the kitchen was a clean broomstick leaning against the back wall. The broom’s bristles were beautifully styled into a smooth swoop, and its handle was made of dark wood polished to a mirror shine. “A clean broomstick?” Siegfried said aloud. “That ain’t right.” “You wouldn’t notice a dirty broomstick, that’s for sure,” Erwen said. “No, because broomsticks are meant to be dirty!” Siegfried replied. “And what do you know about dirty broomsticks?” Erwen said. “Actually quite a bit,” Siegfried said. “I spent a lot of time growing up pretending to be other people’s servants to sneak around their house. I know what kitchens are supposed to look like.” Siegfried made as if to pull the broomstick like it was a lever, and wound up holding it in his hands. “So, a normal broom?” Erwen asked. “Huh,” Siegfried said, staring at the broom. Alec followed the bloodstains to the back door and opened it, peeking out. Dumped behind the inn were two motionless bodies. “We’ve got dead people back here!” Alec called to his companions. Broom in hand, Siegfried examined the corpses. The two bodies were human, and had been stabbed repeatedly. Siegfried frowned. “Well now, these could be anybody.” Azuredge was suddenly in his other hand. “Azuredge,” Siegfried said, “except for these creatures here,” he pointed at Erwen and Bob, “where are the nearest unlawful creatures?” “Wait, what?” Erwen asked. Azuredge vibrated in Siegfried’s hand for a moment. This is a big city and there are many unlawful individuals within range. “Fair enough!” Siegfried said, sheathing the axe. He pulled out the wand of secrets that Vajra had given him, and expended one of its charges. The tip of the wand moved to point to a location several feet to the east beyond the kitchen’s shelf-laden wall. “Alec, you’re up,” Siegfried said. Alec pulled the shelf away from the wall, sending flour and lard splattering onto the floor, and then heaved the battering ram with all his martial prowess into the wall beyond, smashing a hole in an explosion of brick and masonry. Erwen sighed and grabbed up a pint of beer from the nearest countertop, downing it in one gulp. “If we don’t leave collateral damage in our wake, nobody will know we were here!” Siegfried said to Erwen. The dust cleared, revealing a corridor. Opposite the hole in the wall was a door marked “Pantry.” Erwen walked to another part of the kitchen, opened a door, and entered the hallway where Alec and Siegfried were stepping over the pile of bricks. He stood staring at them with his hands on his hips. “Oh,” Siegfried said. “Quite.” He opened the pantry door and stepped through. The back room of the God Catcher Inn was rather dingy compared to its cozy, atmospheric taproom. Cheap wooden shelves bowed under the weight of sacks of flour, jugs of lard, and other foodstuffs. The entire room smelled of vinegar and was lit by a single, flickering oil lamp. Seeing that his wand was still pointing to the northeast, Siegfried cast detect magic. He was suddenly aware that the broom he was holding had a faint aura of magic about it. Siegfried immediately jumped up and swung the broom between his legs in the hopes that it was a magical flying broom. The sound of his booted feet coming back down onto the floor dissuaded him of the notion. “Hmm, perhaps there’s a magic word…” Siegfried muttered. He cast identify . “Ah, a broomstick of prestidigitation! ” He said. “How delightfully decadent. Into the bag of holding you go.” Siegfried took note of bootprints in the dust leading to a trapdoor that otherwise would have blended in with the wooden floor of the pantry. They appeared to have marched in single file from the hallway straight to the trapdoor. He pulled the unlocked trapdoor open, revealing what looked like a spacious cellar beneath. “Like I said, there were people in here,” Erwen said. “Back off, Fantasia, I’m going in first.” Erwen hopped down into the cellar. Siegfried sent a sending spell to Varien. We’ve got footprints heading into a basement. Varien replied: Destroyed symbol of Asmodeus, not much else found. entering some magic fog in the hand, something wicked is a foot. will cause ruckus if needed. “Erwen!” Siegfried called out. “Make a mess!”