If I can claim to stand for anything, it’s the fight against injustice—against those with power who exploit the innocent. It’s this fight that has led me down the path I walk today. Lords mistaking their wealth for real power, kings overstepping their authority. I even stood against a world-wide hunt against an entire class of people. I’ve weathered a lot of atrocities, but if there’s one thing that still turns my stomach and sets my blood to boil, it’s the wanton abuse of a child. To hear the guard talk, to hear Allen tell of his life, his family, and indeed our entire race, is something closer to animal than person in the eyes of Waterdeeps so-called guards.
We put them down, as befits monsters. The half-orcs fought hard, with malice and a twisted sort of amusement. I’d call them thugs, but that would disrespect proper thugs. I considered letting one live, as a warning to others within their ranks, but one does not spare monsters—they do not comprehend the nature of mercy. We moved the bodies to a less conspicuous location, and Allen introduced me to his brother, Erickson, and daughter Lacey. Apparently humans are not allowed in Waterdeep, at least not freely, but he had been assured he was given pass to conduct business. Either he was lied to, or these “guard” were overstepping their bounds. Either way, for his own safety, I offered to attend to his business on his behalf.
It turns out Allen owes a large sum to a broker named Raxxon—money he needed to buy his daughter out of slavery. We gave him what we could loot from the guards—some of which was already his—and I took his six gold back payment into town, to deliver to Roxxon’s collector, a ratkin claiming the title of Rymkol, the Snatcher. I advised him to keep the rest, as a man in his position often has need of a well-placed bribe.
In the city, we procured rooms at a respectable inn, the Viridian Chalice. I left my meager possessions, including most of my own money, stashed in the room, and set off to the tattoo parlor at the edge of the city, where Rymkol was said to be. I found him the back of a filthy alley, littered with tweakers and burnouts. As I passed, I heard one of them praising death. Likely just too far gone and begging for relief, but the words chilled me all the same. I found the so-called Snatcher in the back, as unpleasant as his race would imply, and after an entirely too-typical intimidation routine, he took the payment without incident. The tweaker was still muttering as I left the alley, so I decided to interrogate him, to find out how crazy he really was. Upon seeing me, he stopped his mantra and exclaimed that “he will be so glad to know I’m here”. I can only hope the gnome who once possessed this body has unfinished business in this city.
I do not know what the others did once we reached the city. I’m certain they all had personal business to attend to. I have more tasks myself, but they can wait until morning. For now, I need a proper night’s rest, for the first time in what feels like a lifetime.