Chapter 4: Exploring Phandalin, or, Collecting Side Quests

The Loud Boys in the Lost Mine of Phandelver, a D&D report

The inn wasn’t terrible, as inns went; there was some scurrying in the walls but no visible rats in the room and Jake only got bitten twice by bed bugs. All things considered, the three adventurers had a decent night’s rest. The two younger men rose with the sun, washed their faces, dressed and found Uayak still sleeping after tiring of an hour’s worth of dice games.

“What should we do now?” said Kila, as Uayak squeezed his eyelids open.

“Urgh. Sunlight,” groaned Uayak. “Let’s go back to bed.”

“You haven’t gotten out of bed yet,” Jake pointed out.

“Do you think we can go to the shop?” said Kila. “I’m tired of carrying all this spare gear from the goblins around.” He reached behind him and pulled out several complete sets of leather armour.

“How were you carrying that?” asked Jake, puzzled. “Your pack doesn’t look that big.”

Kila shrugged. “I guess I’m just strong.”

“That doesn’t answer my question…” said Jake. He opened Kila’s bag to look inside.

“Hey! Stay out of my things!”

 Uayak sat up. “All right, all right. Let’s go back to the shop.”

After a modest breakfast, the three men trooped back towards Barthen’s Provisions. The portly human shopkeeper had already set out his trestles of wares in front of the shop and was now dusting the display windows, which were stocked with various items useful for travel such as lanterns, iron pots and torches.

“Hello, Mr Shopkeeper!” said Kila brightly.

Barthen glanced up and frowned. “Good morning,” he said cautiously. “Where’s your friend?”

“What friend?” said Jake. “You mean-”

“SURPRISE MR SHOPKEEPER!” roared Uayak from behind Barthen. The unfortunate shopkeeper gasped and clutched his chest.

“What!? Who?!”

“You asked all that last night,” said Uayak. “It’s us again, the Loud Boys!”

“Uayak!” hissed Kila. “I think you should stop doing that!”

“What?” said Uayak innocently. “Now, Mr Shopkeeper, we had a few items at our disposal and we thought we’d come and patronise your grand establishment. You could take these off our hands, couldn’t you?”

The shopkeeper’s face had turned pale and he was breathing in odd, short gasps. “I don’t feel well… Even the Redbrands don’t behave like this…”

“Look, can you take this armour off our hands or not?” said Uayak impatiently.

“Armour? No. I don’t deal in that sort of thing. You’d better go round to Linene Graywind’s. I don’t think I can help you…”

After getting directions, the adventurers left the shaken shopkeeper to recover and went to the Lionshield Coster, another timber building but this time in the middle of the town. There was a shield hanging over the door with a blue lion rampant on it. A hard-faced woman came out as they were investigating the shield and looked at them, eyes narrow.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

Jake glanced at Uayak, who had remained unhidden, and spoke before the halfling could open his mouth. “We’d like to sell some goods.”

“Oh? What sort of goods?”

“Just some leather armour and scimitars. And maybe we can have a look at your wares too?”

“Hmph. Where’d you get the gear, if you don’t mind me asking? We’re a trading post but I won’t trade in black market goods.”

“We had some trouble with goblins on the road,” said Uayak.

“I see. Well, I don’t mind taking that off your hands. We don’t have much in stock at the moment, unfortunately, so there’s not much for you to look at. I’m waiting for a caravan but I suspect it’s suffered an attack of bandits.”

“Oh. Is there a lot of outlaw activity around here?” said Kila curiously.

The woman’s eyebrows furrowed and she spat to her side. “Ruffians in town and bandits out of it, you can’t get away from the outlaws around here. We need a decent policing force but who’s going to provide that, I ask you? Everyone’s too busy trying to make a living around here to do anything about the Redbrands.”

“Who are these Redbrands?” said Jake. “People keep mentioning them.”

Uayak shifted on his feet and started inspecting a dusty suit of chain mail hung on a headless mannequin in the display window, which was obstructed by black iron bars that looked freshly welded.

“Ruffians, lazy good-for-nothings, useless log-brains, selfish and despicable, that’s what they are,” she snarled. “Hanging around at the Sleeping Giant, getting drunk and rioting because they can’t hold down a decent job. They came and smashed this place up a few months ago. They just laughed at me when I told them to stop. That’s when I had to get all these locks and bars. Never had to lock anything before that.”

“Well, if we manage to find that caravan,” said Uayak, not turning from the window, “will you reward us?”

“What? The caravan?” She paused, considering. “I suppose so. Yes, all right. I’ll give you fifty gold if you find it. Those goods are worth a fair bit to me. Now, did you say you had some gear to sell me?”

The three men paused in the town square outside the Lionshield Coster after they had lightened Kila’s load. It wasn’t much of a square; just a dusty space surrounded by timber buildings. The inn they had stayed at was opposite them, and there was a little shrine of stones to the goddess of luck that Kila leaned on as they considered what to do next.

“Shall we try to find that caravan?” said Jake.

“Didn’t the shopkeeper say that the dwarf hasn’t arrived yet?” said Kila. “I wonder if we should go back and search the trail for him. The shopkeeper seemed quite worried.”

“We could go and check out this Sleeping Giant place,” suggested Uayak. “It sounds like these Redbrands need to be taught a lesson about civic duty.”

“If you’re wanting something to do,” said a female voice behind them, “maybe you could help me?”

Kila jumped off the shrine and they all turned around. A young elf dressed in the white linen robes of an acolyte was standing shyly, her hands clasped before her. She was pale and pretty. Jake blushed red and started fiddling with his rainbow cube of squares. Uayak slipped behind him quietly.

“Hello!” said Kila. “What do you need help with? Of course we’ll help!”

The young elf introduced herself as Sister Garaele, and began explaining her role as an agent of an organisation resisting tyranny and authoritarianism. Her latest mission was to ask a banshee in the area the whereabouts of an old and coveted spellbook belonging to the famed sorcerer Bowgentle, but Garaele hit a dead end when the banshee refused to appear to her. As she passionately spoke about the need to depose dictators and the right use of power, Kila and Jake could see their companion delicately dip his fingers into the distracted elf’s pocket. Kila opened his mouth but couldn’t get a word in edgewise, until she finished with, “And if I don’t find out where that spellbook’s gone, who knows who will get their hands on the power! It might be the beginning of the end of the world if we don’t find it first!”

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears and Jake awkwardly reached out and patted her on the elbow. She smiled at him softly and he dropped his cube.

“I’ll give you a gift for the banshee, maybe that’ll convince her to talk to you.” She reached for her pocket, took out a jewelled silver comb, rummaged some more and then gasped.

“Oh no! Not only am I failing my mission, I’ve lost my lucky charm!”

Kila glared at Uayak, who held his gaze for a few moments, then shrugged.

“Ah, I picked this up just before we met,” he said, pulling out a wooden charm roughly carved into the shape of a four-leaved clover. “This wouldn’t be yours, would it?”

“Thank the goddess Tymora!” exclaimed the elf. “Thank you, good sir! I’d best put this somewhere safe. Here’s the gift for the banshee.” She thrust the comb into Uayak’s hands, whirled and rushed into the wooden hut behind the shrine.

Kila snorted, but chose to change the subject. The three men strolled back up the path past the provisions shop, debating their next course of action. As they neared the shop, they saw Barthen vigorously cleaning the windows, his back to them. Before anyone could say anything, Uayak, with a large grin on his face, whipped out his dagger and reached it up to the shopkeeper’s neck. “Hello, Mr Shopkeeper!”

The shopkeeper turned red, then white, then a dreadful shade of grey. His mouth opened and closed and finally a squeak emerged. “You! You! You-“

“Uayak,” said Uayak helpfully. “That’s my name.”

“You’re banned from this shop!” screamed the shopkeeper. He turned, rushed inside and slammed the door. They heard the sounds of bolts being drawn.

“What did I do?” said Uayak, wounded.

“Maybe we’d better find the dwarf first, and then let the shopkeeper know,” said Jake. “I want to make him feel a bit better…”

“Yes, and maybe you’d better stay away when we come by the shop next time,” said Kila.

Uayak just grinned.

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On to Chapter 5!

Or back to Chapter 3!

Or find the origin in Chapter 1!