A Land Far Away

Waterdeep. The city of splendors. Trade. Coins. Laws. Lawlessness.

Everyone had an angle, and I was no different. I knew plenty of petty crooks, and petty watchmen. Both sides of the equation, everyone just trying to put food on the table for their kids. The only different was that one side got to wear a uniform and had to play by the rules. As for me? Well, I had a finger in each pie.

They used to call us lawyers, until the Blackstaff outlawed the profession. That hit hard, but we didn't die, we just adapted. Found a new way of helping people navigate the fraught perils of a murky legal system. Now we go by the moniker of professional witness. Counselors, advocates, professional pleaders, fixers. A professional service, for a professional price.

The work is not glamorous, but it is honest. Any attempt to suggest otherwise will be met with an accusation of Unlawful Hindrance of Business

My name is Nipsy Peanut (esq), of Shore, Peanut, & Holding (ltd). I'm here to save Waterdeep.

This.... this is so marvelous. Real potential to be one of the most amazing characters ever.

It was cold, real cold. Streets that ordinarily would have been busy with drunks and whores and pickpockets were empty of all but the most determined (or desperate) trades-plyers. *Crunch, crunch, crunch* the sound of a crusted snow breaking under the resigned and snow sodden guardsmen who patrolled with fur hoods drawn tight over their faces, cold reddened noses each pointing at the fellow in front of them as they powered through their obligatory patrol to return as fast as possible to their watch posts and the warming fire within. Exhaled breath misted the air, competing with low hanging and curling smoke from each and every chimney. Some stank of hair and worse as the poor began to burn rubbish to keep warm.

And here was Nipsy Peanut, esquire. Of the firm shore, Holding, and Peanut, limited. Somehow caught up on the periphery of trying to solve this unseasonable weather. He hurried back towards his house from the Safehaven. Trying to process all that he had learned over the last few days. As much as there was said to be the over arching threat of the furies, there was the even closer complication of the personalities. His client Vale Clearwater was not making his job easy, that was for sure.

Nipsy pull tight his hood, lowered his head, and walked into the headwind.

Perfect photo.

The odd weather was making people behave oddly. Or rather, it was making them act exactly as Nipsy was expecting. It certainly wasn't the first angry gathering in front of the Adventurers "Guild". Fear, fear was the great sin, for it made all others possible. And the simple citizens of Waterdeep were very, very afraid.

Sitting at his desk, Nipsy walked it back and forth on his fingers. The furious alliance leads to the freeze, the freeze leads to loss of resource, the loss of resource leads to hunger and cold on the margins of society, the hunger and cold on the margins of society leads to death. Jumping from start to finish that made the known path (for the common man on the street) of Freeze leads to Death.

Death was to be feared, therefore the freeze was to be feared...

therefore...

The simple citizens were looking for easy targets. Vale the Auril cultist and Miss Gardner the witch were easy targets. Vale had a high profile, and his -elfiness- was not at all resonant with the largely human city. Miss Gardner did herself no favors with her very public casting and lecturing to the mob.

If only... hmm. Nipsy had an idea. He tried to snap his fingers, but they refused to function as they should. Frowning, he and his idea made his way to a very cold bed.

I love you.

In my defense at posting a thinly veiled chat log: Plagiarism. Wynnachat. Wynna dialogue is worth reposting.

******

Clarianna Gardner had her nose buried in a book, looking agitated as she paced the large room.

“Is this a bad time?” he asked.

Clarianna closed the book with a snap. “Are there any good ones?”

Master Peanut gave that due thought, as befit a man of his profession. “I hear spring is full of them, winter, not so much.”

The snow falling outside the window should have been answer enough. “Then around here, not so much.”.

Her small forced smile didn’t do much to break the tension of her expression. “Good morning, Master Peanut.”

“Good morning Miss Gardner.”

“What is wrong?”

“I had occasion to read the Daily Trumpet. Have you?”

She drew the book in, holding it across herself like a shield. “I've read it.” She wheeled, pacing away. “I wanted to speak with you about it.” Nipsy followed wondering at their changing dynamic. “What did you think of that? Can they write such things?” She asked placing down the book to her desk, staring down at it. Just as her hair, it seemed uncharacteristically messy.

“I think they have proven that they can,” he said, at her elbow.

She shuffled books and papers around the table as Nipsy watched. “But can they legally?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“A few things. Perhaps you should have a seat.” Clarianna started to comply, and for the first time since he walked into the room, Nipsy felt like he was able to bring a little order to the conversation. Feeling more at ease, he moved around to regard her eye to eye, leaning against the desk. Behind him lay her jumbled scrolls and books. Clari reached onto the desk, and slid a book into her bag, showing a small crossbow in the pack. Nipsy observed, but showed no reaction, as was his habit. Everyone had secrets. It would be interesting to know what secrets a devotee of Oghma kept though...

She reddened before asking, “Is it that bad?”

“Again, that depends.”

“On?”

He leaned upon the desk, regarding her. She sat primly, and proper. The pose seemed at odds with how agitated she was otherwise behaving.

“Miss Gardner,” he said, “how important is your reputation to you?”

“Who steals my purse steals trash. 'Tis something, nothing: 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands. A good reputation is the most valuable thing we have, men and women alike.” Clearly she was quoting from some poet, or author. Nipsy appreciated the sentiment, if not impressed by the art of it all. Though they walked different paths, they were at least heading to the same destination.

He nodded. “You understand then.”

“I do. I understand that they have insulted and endangered me.” She dropped her hand to her hip, had she been standing, it would have looked like she was ready to scold him.

“Vale was placed in the same situation.”

“Vale,” she said flatly. ”He is in no danger. Not that one.”

“Physical danger?”

“Physical danger.” She began to organize her desk.

“His health may be intact, but his reputation is in tatters. I would argue that he is in a very perilous position. In fact, I know he is.”

She stacked papers. “And perhaps if his manner were warmer—” She broke off, the last part of that registering. “He is?”

“Indeed.” Master Peanut nodded.” I cannot comment more.” Technically Nipsy knew he was breaching Vales trust by even saying that, though he judged the gambit worth it, if only to prompt Calri to be more forthcoming.

Her brow knit. ”Well, that is wrong. Even if he deserves a good kick in the posterior.”

“However, we are talking of you, and your situation. Let me state the facts.” She continued organizing papers, stacking them neatly, squaring each edge with a tap.“The Daily Trumpet is well known for its scandal focus.”

“So noted.”

“You have had the unfortunate title of the Winter Witch assigned to you. Proving you are not, in fact, a Winter Witch is easier said than done.”

“But I am not! How can it be hard to prove that I am not?”

“Words are easy, Miss Gardner.” In fact he did not think they were. He knew this better than she did, perhaps. To her words were to be copied, and scribed, and paraded out to impress. While this might tax the fingers, and memory, rote learning and writing was easy, if tedious. To him however, phrasing words to obtain the desired outcome was quite the challenge.

“Blades are hard.” She ran fingers through her hair, trying to look far more casual that she did.

“Miss Gardner!” he scolded, secretly amused.

“Sorry,” she said.

“I did not expect that sort of language from you.” It was true, he hadn't at all. These other adventurers had been rubbing off on her.

“What?, I meant sharp. What?”

“Blades are hard. That is the sort of thing I would expect to hear from Sarenna.” In a threatening way, he added in his brain.

She rose, turning to the bookshelves. “It was not intended so, although, once repeated.... I apologize for offending you. Sometimes my emotions get the better of me.”

“I am not offended, only surprised, and slightly disappointed.” That was mostly true, it was good to remind her though what her path was -meant- to be as a woman of a very dry faith.

She took an arbitrary book from the shelves and opened it, staring down, the title read "Parables of Iriaebor, city of a thousand spires". If she was trying to be play a game with him, she was about to be challenged.

Deciding to restore her attention back to him, he started tidying her desk, by shifting a loose sheet of vellum. “I truly didn't mean it the way you took it,” she said, grabbing for the vellum. “Sorry.” She stuffed the heavy sheet into her knapsack with the crossbow and book. “Sorry.”

He watched her fussing and fretting and once again stated what was obvious to both of them. “Perhaps this is a bad time.”

“No, Master Peanut, I value your advice, I will try to control my words.”

“I do not give advice, Miss Gardner, I provide my experience as a professional witness, and counselor.”

She looked down at the book she had hastily dropped, reshelving it. Nipsy mentally patted himself on the back “Then what is your experience, Master Peanut? Hypothetically, say, these lies in the Trumpet cause harm to someone. I am...asking for a friend.”

“That the battle would be long, difficult, and hideously expensive, and in all likelihood, fruitless.”

“What if someone were, say, injured in some way…?”.

Well met! he thought, this was getting interesting.

“Can you prove causality?”

“Casually? No, aggressively.” She frowned.

“I mean to say, can you prove a direct link?”

“What form would that take?” She startled at a door rattling.

Nipsy ignored the door, his attention on her. “A witness, a document, a confession.”

“Did someone just come in? Vana?” Clarianna called. “Did someone just come in?”

Vana shook her head, at Nipsy answered. “Not that I saw. Then again, my attention was fully on your concerns.”

Calri ran her fingers along the pins in her hair. “That's good.” She looked down at his serene face. “I see what Vale sees in you.”

“A professional service, for a professional price,” he said in a very practiced way. “Not to mention assured discretion, and non-judgmental counsel.”

She inhaled deeply, while Nipsy wondered if he had yet won her trust. “A witness. A document. A confession. What if that aggressor died? In the commission of the aggressive act?”

“Are we still talking in hypotheticals? Or has your friend been assaulted?”

She started to nod but it turned into a shake of her head, and she collapsed into the chair. Head down, face in her hands, she confessed. “I was attacked, Master Peanut. Assaulted with a blade.”

“That is terrible.” Clearly assaulted by someone not very practiced. there must have been someone else there, as she, the middled aged and bookish scribe seemed untouched.

“It hurt," she said, muffled.

“I can only imagine it would.”

“I'm a scribe. Not a warrior. Whatever Vale thinks he can pretend I am, why ever, he wants to pretend that.” She scrubbed her face with a sigh, and sat up. “I’m fine. I'm worried, though.”

“You sound more worried than fine, if I was forced to choose between the two.”

“What if the person who knifed me ended up…not alive? What ramifications might there be?”

“Were there witnesses to the killing?”

“I don't know.” Her eyes widened. “Maybe?”

“Where and when did it happen?”

“I don't know. Near Serpentil’s. Last night, a citizen is dead, Master Peanut. Because…well because he attacked me. But because of the Trumpet.”

The trumpet? Interesting, he thought.

“How do you know his motivation?”

She pulled out the vellum that she had snatched away from him. "'Die witch bitch.'" In a muted voice, she read from it. "'I'll be a hero, and end this winter curse!'”

“He wrote that?”

She folded it, creasing it, and refolded it, and again, into smaller and smaller squares. “I think that was it. I was a little shaken. I wrote it. To Oghma.” She was stuttering. “About me. He said it. The man. With the knife.”

Nipsy gave her a thoughtful look. “And then you killed him?”

“Me?!” She blinked. “No! I—” Clari stuttered, seemingly frazzled and lost for words. “If I had, would I be in trouble? With the Law?, would I be arrested? ...and thrown in jail?... to rot?”

“This is why I asked if anyone had seen the killing.”

“I don't know.” He knew she was lying. There must have been someone else there, judging from the holes in her story. Who then? Adam? Smokey? She seemed to have some kind of attachment to each of them.

The door opened, unmistakably this time, admitting the Company man, Sarenna’s lover. Clarianna was surprisingly curt to him, and walked away from Kal and his niceties. Trouble between them? Or more likely Sareena and Clarianna? Intersting, very interesting. Nipsy made polite small talk with Kal before her left. Far better to collect friends than enemies.

After Kal left, Nipsy was left alone with his thoughts. And Miss Gardners backpack. He picked it up, feeling its heft, it seemed to hold more than a few books among other odd lumps. How long before she realized it was gone? Minutes? Hours were possible.

Seconds, as it turned out, as she ran back to the desk, “I was going to bring it to you.” It was true, he was. Though he did not mention the temptation to look inside.

“Were you?” she asked accusingly.

He handed it to her, his manner hardening. He could not let that slide. “Well, I didn’t want to leave it there in the open.” She had opened the pack, insulting him by looking that nothing was missing. “Miss Gardner, we spoke earlier of reputation.”

“We did.” she reddened, perhaps realizing the insult she had made.

“Please, do not impugn mine. It is all I have.”

“I am so sorry.”

“And it is what my profession is based upon.” he slapped her with the hand made of words.

She hugged the pack, again, shielding herself with a book, albeit one held in a bag. “Master Peanut, since I arrived, I have been mugged, vampire bitten and stabbed.”

Irrelevant he thought.

She was grasping now, he saw. He eased off the pressure. “It has been a very interesting journey for me, the association with the Adventurers Guild, and the Lhuvenhead Trading company, so I sympathize, and understand the pressures of the close retainer work. If I can impart one thing to you, Miss Gardner, it will be this: It is alright to say No.”

“Oh, I'm good at no,” she muttered, then raised her voice. ”Last night I said no and off they traipsed, without me. And then we went to the bookstore, and that man jumped us and… You didn't tell me. Would the person who killed the person who knifed my person be in trouble?”

“It depends. I understand that answer is vexing.”

“I prefer black and white to gray, yes.”

“Was the killing reported?”

She shook her head. “I don't want anybody to know, but that seems to break the Law.”

Nipsy pointed out the issue. “Let me show you what a Magister might see. From the window, a citizen works to draw shut a shutter swung open by a winter gust.” He mimed a shutter being closed, and latched. “They see a struggle on the street. Obscured by snow, a man falls, and is left there.” Her hand rose to her holy symbol. “A knife in his back, or side, or however it happened.”

“Hammer,” she whispered. “Head.”

“A man fell, his head caved in. Or worse, face.” He winced.

“I don't remember.” Her voice quavered.

He looked her over, no hammer seen. “If nothing else, Miss Gardner, I suggest throwing the hammer into the harbor.”

“I very much doubt that will happen.” She tried to steady her voice.

She was lying by omission, still. Interesting. Who was it she was trying to protect?

“That is certainly your decision. It would be against my counsel as the guardian of your freedom though. However, at this stage I would point out, that I have not been engaged thusly, and this, this has just been a conversation between friends and fellow retainers. However, I am more than happy to discuss my rates, if you are interested.”

“Master Peanut, I have been replacing my wardrobe at a spectacularly profligate rate of late. I fear I could not afford your retainer.” She came to her feet. “I need some air.”

Nipsy had known she could not afford his professional rates, but there was more than one way to extract value.

“I am sure we could come to an arrangement, perhaps even an exchange of services.”

“If you need scribing, it is yours. As friends. And coworkers, do you have work here? Or were you on your way out?”

“I was stopping by to see if Vale was available.”

“I haven't seen him today.” she said icily. Interesting, tension between her and Vale as well?

“I am going to walk in the sun, such as it is. These days the afternoons are the only time I feel comfortable outside. Thank you. I appreciate your counsel.”

“Do you wish solitude?”

“I…” She hesitated. “I do not. But I can't stay inside any longer. I wouldn't impose.”

He gave a small shrug. “It is no imposition. I, too, enjoy the sunshine. Rare as it is.”

He had already learned a lot from this intense conversation, but judged that was yet more to learn.

“Would you fancy a coach ride to the Font?” she asked shyly. “I would like to be there and back before dusk.”

Yes. "Yes."

Bucket list item checked off. PC immortalized in a Rumple pic.

So much fun to see this from his side. Wonderful!

There was a saying within Waterdeep that sprung to mind. "The Guard guards the walls while the Watch watches all". Which is to say, the Waterdeep guards controlled ingress (and egress) to Waterdeep, while the watch, watched warily within. Nipsy was well used to witnessing, watching on the other hand was an entirely new experience.

Market day brought a new experience to Sergeant Armar Nipsy Peanut, esquire of the Docks Watch Post. He was on traffic duty today, halting pedestrians as carts rumbled down Dock street before turning north into Shrimp alley. The captain seemed to be masking amusement as he stationed Nipsy there, probably some kind of gnome related joke. In any event, his duty today was preventing civilians from being run over by wayward carts. So far there were no incidents, other than some spilled oil, and a slipped dwarf. Luckily Nipsy had stopped a cart just in time to prevent a terrible accident.

He was also under strict instructions not to get tooooo law happy. Penalties for littering was not enforced here, nor casual blasphemy. Which was just as well, for Nipsy would have had to write himself a writ on several occasions as he narrowly prevented collisions between aggressive drovers late for the market.

That was the practical task for today. While he was letting the reactive part of his brain do that, the proactive brain was pondering other things entirely differently, thinking of recent events, and he might be involved in future ones yet developing. There was opportunity here, for a gnome well versed in legal...

SHIT!

Nipsy waved an AVAUNT flag at an oncoming herd of goats about to collide with a gaggle of sailors.

Sergeant Armar Nipsy Peanut, esquire, of the Docks Watch Post of the City of Waterdeep was at home, in his night robe. He sat, cold, legs pressed together for warmth, his feet wrapped in woolen bed socks. Outside the wind blew, and he knew it would smell like rain. Under the dim light of a lantern turned low to reflect his mood, Nipsy reviewed his to do list. Half finished plans, future ideas, and soon to be lost opportunities. How thin can you spread yourself before you become transparent?

One by one he went through the list. Yes, do it, no, tempting but unwise, hilarious but not yet, yes but where will I get that many guardgoyles?, and so forth. Eventually he narrowed the list down to five new priorities, and mentally transcribed them to a very safe place within his turnip noggin. The now scribbled upon former priority list was torn into tiny little strips, and eaten one by one, dipped in a turnip stew for flavor.

Outside his window, the people of the city of Waterdeep, the city which he loved so much went about their follies.

Current and recent threats to the rightful rule of the City of Waterdeep by the Guilds of Waterdeep, including unlicenced and illegal entities

Introduction

Over a period of 17 years, the guilds of Waterdeep usurped power from the masked lords and embarked on a period of misrule. While power has been returned to the masked lords, the city has an obligation to its citizens to remain vigilant against the threat the guilds pose. The current licensed guilds are in compliance of all laws and regulations that pertain to them so far as the author is aware. In 1398 DR there was an illegal guild established in the Adventurers Quarter by Korsan Blackmane. In 1399 DR this so called Adventurers guild was found to be in breach of the laws of Waterdeep by Sergeant Armar Nipsy Peanut, esquire of the Docks Watch Post and forced to revoke any and all appearance of being a guild. The founder of the guild Korsan Blackmane was known to have anti-establishment tendencies.

History

The rightful rule of the city of Waterdeep has been compromised during the period of 1256 - 1273 DR.

1256 DR - The death of Lord Ahghairon and the vacuum of power

After the death of rightful Lord Ahghairon in 1256 DR, the merchants of Waterdeep jostle for position in the vacuum of power. Turmoil erupts within the city as the political posturing between rival mercantile houses turns into violence. The masked lords who survived Lord Ahghairon are either unwilling or unable to reveal themselves. The guilds send assassins after anyone speculated to be a masked lord. The masked lords are all presumed dead or in exile. In truth two are later revealed to have survived.

1256 DR - The Council of Guilds usurp power

Two months after the death of Lord Ahghairon, power was seized by the Council of Guilds, who had agreed to share power amongst themselves after the initial two months of fighting each other. For six years they control the city in an uneasy alliance between themselves. Disputes between themselves continue to grow, and occasionally erupt into bloodshed as mercenaries controlled by rival factions fight in the streeet.

1262 DR - The Council of Guilds implode

In 1262 DR festering grudges result in all out war between the rival factions. Only two guild masters survive. The gemcutter Ehlemm Zoar, and the shipwright Lhorar Gildeggh. They agree to rule together as the “Lords Magister”. Despite their truce, they continued to be at odds, and the their rule has been characterized by historians as the “Misrule of the Magisters”.

1273 DR - The return of the Masked Lords

In 1273 DR two masked lords in exile return to the city in secret and kill the “Lords Magister” Ehleem Zoar, and Lhorar Gildeggh. One of the masked lords unmasks himself as the woodcutter Baeron and assumes the mantle of the open lord. Rightful rule is returned to the masked lords and the bloody reign of the Guilds is over after 17 years of unlawful tyranny. The houses of Gildeggh and Zoar are banned from the city for perpetuity. Magisters are appointed to carry out the will of the returned lords, and ensure the rule of law is followed by all.

Following the restoration of law by the return of the lords, the powers and autonomy of the guilds was curtailed to prevent any more illegitimate challenges to their rule. All guilds are required to follow the law of the city of Waterdeep, and exist only by the magnanimous grace of the city itself. The following guilds are currently licensed to exist and operate within the city, and are in compliance with all laws and regulations that pertain to them.

Baker's Guild
Carpenters', Roofers', & Plaisterers' Guild
Cellarers' and Plumbers' Guild
Coopers' Guild
Council of Farmer-Grocers
Council of Musicians, Instrument-Makers, & Choristers
Dungsweepers' Guild
Fellowship of Bowers and Fletchers
Fellowship of Carters and Coachmen
Fellowship of Innkeepers
Fellowship of Salters, Packers, and Joiners
Fishmongers' Fellowship
Guild of Apothecaries and Physicians
Guild of Butchers
Guild of Chandlers and Lamplighters
Guild of Fine Carvers
Guild of Glassblowers, Glaziers, and Spectacle-makers
Guild of Stonecutters, Masons, Potters, and Tile-makers
Guild of Trusted Pewterers and Casters
Guild of Watermen
Jesters' Guild
Jewelers' Guild
Launderers' Guild
League of Basket-makers and Wickerworkers
League of Skinners and Tanners
Loyal Order of Street Laborers
Master Mariners' Guild
Most Careful Order of Skilled Smiths and Metalforgers
Most Diligent League of Sail-makers and Cordwainers
Most Excellent Order of Weavers and Dyers
Order of Cobblers and Corvisers
Order of Master Shipwrights
Order of Master Tailors, Glovers, and Mercers
Saddlers' and Harness-makers' Guild
Scriveners', Scribes', and Clerks' Guild
Solemn Order of Recognized Furriers and Woolmen
Splendid Order of Armorers, Locksmiths, and Finesmiths
Stablemasters' and Farriers' Guild
Stationers' Guild
Surveyors', Map-, and Chart-makers' Guild
Vintners', Distillers', & Brewers' Guild
Wagon-makers' and Coach Builders' Guild
Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors
Wheelwrights' Guild

The following entity was illegally created and declared to be a guild without permission of the city in 1399 DR

“The Adventurers’ Guild”

Korsan Blackmane and the history of the “The Adventurers’ Guild”

In 1398 a wealthy and successful elven adventurer Korsan Blackmane founded what he call “The Adventurers’ Guild” in Kerrigan’s court. There is no record that Korsan sought or obtained permission from the city to create this entity. Investigations into Korsan reveal that he was selfish, greedy, a thief, and had little regard for authority or oversight. Contemporary adventurers confirm that Korsan was motivated by the discomfort of others, mischief, and in cruel pranks at their expense.

Korsan Blackmane was known to have died in the days following the creation of the so called “Adventurer’s Guild”. Leadership was assumed by a short tempered and foreign half orc known as Takashi. Takashi died in mysterious circumstances in late 1398, and was succeeded by Vale Clearwaters, another elf who claimed to have no memory of where he came from. It is notable that Vale Clearwaters was associated with Auril Cultists, and also admitted to the assault upon Master Plumber Hilithiimm Turnstone, leader of the plumbers guild. Vale Clearwaters has since abdicated from the leadership of the entity.

After Vale Clearwaters abdicated from the leadership of the so called “Adventurers’ Guild”, Sergeant Armar Nipsy Peanut, esquire of the Docks Watch Post investigated the legality of the entity. Upon learning of it’s illegality he informed the newly elected leader Cornelius Tauber that the entity was illegally created and in breach of Waterdeep law.

In consultation with Sergeant Armar Nipsy Peanut, esquire of the Docks Watch Post, the entity has transitioned to the “Adventurers Lodge” and agreed that it has no claim, nor implied right to the title, nor obligations, nor privileges of being a guild within the city of Waterdeep.

A Fortunate Death

If not for the timely death of Korsan Blackmane it is entirely likely that the city could be facing the threat of a self declared guild, under the command of a very competent and accomplished that includes a large number of very well armed and resourced adventurers under its control. While the threat posed by the legacy of Korsan Blackmane has been curtailed by the Docks Watch Post the city should remain vigilant against further attempts by opportunistic individuals to return to the bloodshed of the Guildwars.