The Magic Is in Our Endowment
Headmaster Wilbur Wregi welcomed the party into an office that appeared around them with a clap of his hands. Windows overlooked classrooms, an observatory, and the dueling club, while animated books flew from the shelves demanding his attention. He shooed them away, promising to spend time with them later, and offered his guests tea.
When Nys shook his hand, the little gnome bobbed up and down with each movement. She apologized, but Wregi assured her that it was only his levitation spell. He then waved a hand toward the grandfather clock, whose glass reshaped itself into floating cups and saucers.
The College of Ioun had an excellent dining plan. Its recent assurances about student safety were proving harder to maintain.
Lorin Merrow had been a promising abjuration student, the son of the Lord of Jovenshire and the latest generation of his family to attend the College. Wregi could not explain how he had entered the Alumni Tower’s private restaurant, much less how the Mincer had followed him inside. He had told the parents their children would be safe.
Fortunately, tuition was nonrefundable. Admissions next year were another matter.
Nys asked about Lorin’s friends and any scandal that might have drawn the killer’s attention. His father was a lord, Wregi explained, and therefore hardly free of scandal, but he knew nothing that should have fallen upon the boy. He offered to consult his extensive network if the party needed assistance elsewhere in the city.
Fern asked where someone might have purchased Boots of Elvenkind. Wregi named Divine Relics and the Traveling Imp, both known for selling powerful magic without the paperwork required to trace it. Their willingness to sell to students had caused him considerable trouble. An Immovable Rod had once kept him out of a supply closet for two years.
Nys had a more unusual request. They possessed something belonging to the Mincer, but divine protection prevented ordinary divination from locating him. Could the College find another way?
Wregi proposed assembling a group of honor students, teaching them Contact Other Plane, and questioning the heavens until they obtained an answer. Ned reminded him that the process could leave those students mad for weeks. The headmaster considered that a manageable complication: they could be kept under Feign Death until they recovered.
The party asked for another plan.
Old Words, New Magic
Nys suggested making the object return to its owner. Enough spellcasters might be able to animate it and pass it between them, renewing the magic until it reached him. Ned offered a simpler possibility: Speak with an Inanimate Object.
Wregi knew the spell, but it belonged to an older tradition of magic. Finding someone who could still cast it would be difficult. After a moment’s consideration, he sent Ned to fetch Eva.
While they waited, the discussion turned to the Spellplague and the gods’ prohibition of high magic. Someone had put legs on mountains and moved the continents, Wregi explained, which had rather spoiled things for everyone else.
Fern made a history check and briefly remembered lifting mountains from the water. When he announced that he remembered it, Nys hurriedly explained that he meant he remembered hearing about it.
Eva arrived through a trapdoor beside Ned. She was a surprisingly young elf with braided hair and a small wooden wand, and introduced herself as a member of an old and noble house. Her work at the College involved recovering spells that had stopped functioning after the Spellplague.
Some had never been high magic at all. By translating their words of power and studying how they interacted with the Weave, she had begun making them work again. Before the Spellplague, magic had reverberated through mundane objects; now, a spellcaster needed to establish that connection deliberately. To make an ordinary item speak, they would first have to imbue it with magic.
Nys compared the old process to echolocation, with magic bouncing between objects. Eva thought she understood it well. When Nys mentioned losing her own small magical gifts upon becoming shadar-kai, however, the elf’s expression became sympathetic. Being severed from their father’s embrace was a terrible curse.
She would mourn Nys until the stones forgot.
Wregi immediately reminded her that they did not use that language here. Eva apologized, and he explained that she was an Eldamari transfer student. They were still working on a few things.
Nys brought out the scrap of armor recovered from the Mincer’s trail.
Strappy
Wregi pulled a carnation from his lapel. Its stem kept extending until he held a five-foot pinwheel, which he waved over the leather. The strap began wriggling across his desk, and Fern struggled to hold it still while Nys named it Strappy.
Eva spoke the old words. The buckle softened into a mouth, and the newly awakened strap immediately began complaining about its abandonment.
Its owner used to care. They had been together since he was seven, when he polished the armor, rubbed oil into the leather, and promised that one day they would become adventurers. Going outside had initially been exciting. Getting stabbed and frayed had been less enjoyable, particularly once he began replacing damaged pieces with magically mended ones.
Nys offered a proper polish and asked who owned it.
Garrus Gelentara: Clark Gelentara’s grandson, the heir of Devilish Silk, and the new recruit in the guard.
Her suspicion had been correct.
Strappy remembered their journey toward the Prophet’s guildhall. Golden Rats ambushed the group on the road, and Garrus froze. An orc companion pushed him out of danger and died protecting him. Steadpelt Thunderwalker brought him back to the Cove, then went to the bar and told everyone how Garrus had wet himself.
The aspiring adventurer became a laughingstock and joined the guard instead. Then, one night, a raven appeared at his window. It told him he had been robbed of the life he deserved. He was meant for better things, and he could still become a hero.
All he had to do was say yes.
The Wrong Person in the Alley
According to Strappy, the raven had helped Garrus clean up the city. It whispered terrible things about the people around him: Councilman Timber Westmere was a predator, and Lorin Merrow’s father was taking money from the Golden Rat Syndicate.
Fern asked why the father’s crimes justified killing his son. Strappy explained that sometimes a murder was about sending a message. Who were they to question the god of death?
Other victims had required little explanation. The raven simply told Garrus to kill them. It had hanging one body like a scarecrow; displaying another in the Counting House had been Garrus’s own contribution. He wanted to send a message to the Cove himself.
When Nys asked about the docks, Strappy recognized her. They had tried to kill her twice, but she had not been the intended target the first time. Garrus had been waiting in the alley for Steadpelt, the man who humiliated him. Nys turned the corner, and he had thought it was Steadpelt turning the corner after leaving the Dockside Bierhall.
She had not been supposed to be there.
Nys promised Strappy the finest polish she could obtain before the spell ended. They finally knew the Mincer’s identity. The question was how to confront him without letting him escape.
A Trap for the Hunter
Fern suggested involving the guard and moving against Garrus before he could prepare. Nys wanted to make him enter a trap. In their previous encounters, the killer had chosen the target, attacked from an advantageous position, and escaped when the situation turned against him. They needed to force him into reacting to them.
Fable had researched a combination of spells that might accomplish it. Suggestion could persuade Garrus to accept Nystul’s Magic Aura, making magic treat him as a fiend. An inverted Magic Circle could then hold him in place and prevent his usual teleportation escape.
They considered using Steadpelt as bait. He could publicly claim to know the killer’s identity and draw out the man who had already tried to murder him. Fern proposed acquiring scrolls that could blind Garrus if the first attempt failed. Together, they developed a plan involving a lure, a magical prison, backup spells, and support from the guard.
Wregi was willing to help. He would not put a student in such danger, but they could take Ned.
Ned objected that his dissertation was due. The headmaster assured the party that he had nothing better to do. When Ned admitted that he did not know Magic Circle, Wregi considered the mission an excellent opportunity to learn under the pressure of death.
Fable requested the remaining scrolls, while Nys offered public recognition for the College’s assistance. Impressed by Fable’s magical reasoning, Wregi suggested that she enroll. If the party received a substantial reward, they might contribute to the endowment and establish a scholarship in Lorin’s name. Perhaps Fable could receive it.
“Most of our scholarships are nepotism!”
Nys rested a hand on Fable’s shoulder and told him he would find no finer wizard. She could be no prouder of a daughter. Fable struggled to respond to the praise while Ned collected the scrolls.
They left the College to deliver their evening report to the Duke.
One Day to Prove It
Lights and festival banners decorated Château Nightfeather, where Taurion’s newly built gazebo stood among the preparations. The Duke received the party upstairs, drinking wine beside Jehnam Havenflower, who was distressed at the possibility of his festivities being canceled.
Nys announced that they had identified the Mincer and developed a plan. When Nightfeather asked for the name, she hesitated. Knowing the killer’s identity might make the Duke a target, and she did not want to endanger him.
He found that explanation ridiculous. Was she suggesting that a local murderer possessed an omnipresent power capable of identifying everyone who knew his secret? Nys explained that he had divine assistance. The Duke asked why she was still alive.
The Mincer had tried to kill her twice, she reminded him. She credited the Raven Queen’s blessings with her survival.
Jehnam immediately stood. Nys was the Raven Queen’s champion? His gallery was dedicated to Ondor Sev, and she simply had to visit. Perhaps he could paint the two of them fighting side by side.
Nightfeather interrupted before the invitation went any further. Nys’s account sounded like an elaborate excuse for not knowing who the killer was. He would give her one more day to produce results.
He also offered to summon his guest of honor for Fern. Nys suggested that they should not interrupt the visitor’s trance, and the party withdrew with its deadline intact.
Back on the Case
The following morning, paperboys carried copies of the Dissonant Whispers through the city. Its latest story announced Nys’s return to the investigation: back from the dead and back on the case. Anna Anderson, Captain Hreda, and even Baroness Lilliana Sev had contributed comments.
At the Honest Hem, Ned had survived a night on the floor. He admitted that the carpet had been more comfortable than his bed at the College.
The party visited the Traveling Imp to finish equipping themselves. Mezer Dread had Fern’s Bracers of Defense ready, though he had begun preparing to sell them on. Devilish Silk already had a deposit down if Fern failed to collect them.
Nys helped cover the balance. She also contributed toward Fable’s Wand of the War Mage, receiving the wizard’s Ring of Protection in return. Mezer confirmed that his stock had included Boots of Elvenkind, but Devilish Silk had bought them too.
They continued to the High Lantern and found the guard in a frenzy. The Mincer had killed again overnight.
Valcria Segal was dead.
The editor whose paper had just announced Nys’s return had become the next victim. The Duke was furious with the guard, having been assured that the matter would be handled.
Nys went upstairs to find Hreda.
The Fox in the Henhouse
Captain Hreda was with Anna Anderson when Nys reported that the killer belonged to his own guard force. She warned him that learning the name could put him in danger. Hreda pointed out that being captain already did that.
The Mincer was Garrus Gelentara, she reported.
Anna began describing him as a fox in the henhouse while Hreda consulted the patrol roster. Recruit Gelentara worked Ledger Square, close to so many of the murder sites, and had declined every opportunity to take a night shift. The pattern became considerably easier to see once they knew where to look.
Nys explained the trap and the entity assisting the killer. Hreda pressed for details; an omnipresent power did not give him much room to plan. Eventually, she named Sindatari and described what she had learned from the Raven Queen.
Hreda observed that she had become considerably more interesting since she died. Nys almost wished she had not.
The captain could redirect Garrus’s patrol and position guards around the chosen location. The proposed Steadpelt lure became unnecessary: Garrus could be sent toward them under orders. Hreda would also cover the concealed passage beneath the High Lantern, which the guard already used.
Obtaining a complete sewer map was less practical. The city had reused ancient dwarven tunnels, and no one possessed a convenient schematic of the entire complex. They would have to catch him above ground.
Hreda warned them that failure might make matters worse. If Garrus escaped knowing he had been exposed, there was no guarantee he would continue limiting himself to one victim each night. He also explained how such a poor swordsman had entered the force: his grandfather’s ten-thousand-gold donation to the High Lantern had secured the Duke’s appointment.
Nys studied the area near the proposed patrol route. The Cathedral of Turning Fortune stood close to the Effortless Estate, and its archbishop had already expressed an interest in fighting the Mincer.
They went to find Bustomi.
Then We Lied for the Same Reason
Bustomi greeted the opportunity enthusiastically. He had been walking the streets at night hoping the Mincer would try him. When Nys asked for his help, he stripped away his vestments to reveal heavy armor and a wrestling championship belt.
They could place the Magic Circle in the cathedral’s fountain, where sunlight would help conceal its glow. While they discussed the arrangements, Nys noticed two ravens watching from a nearby tree.
She looked toward them, and time stopped. Bustomi froze with one fist raised as Sindatari addressed her.
The party had moved ahead of schedule, but the scythe had become sufficiently powerful. They could take it now. Garrus had gone somewhat off the deep end, and Nys should aim carefully.
She asked him to come down from his branch. Appearing beside her, he described an arrangement that ought to satisfy everyone: Nys would avenge her death, the party would obtain the weapon, and Fable could kill her grandfather. Some of the steps had been unintentional, but it had worked out.
Nys asked how she had become involved. Sindatari called her an unfortunate variable whom he had found entertaining. She then repeated his old suggestion about a copy of her existing in the Fortress of Memories. He admitted that he had known.
Why had he put her back together?
“Another time, another place, darling.”
He had come to tell her that he would not interfere. The Mincer had run his course, and Sindatari was finished with him.
Nys told him she was angry. She had believed him an ally. He responded that allowing her to attack his warlock without making her drop dead ought to count as considerable assistance. He could empower Garrus instead, if she preferred.
When she challenged his lies, his amusement gave way to anger. He invoked Ondor Sev, who had also failed to listen to him. The Raven Queen had stopped the knight’s heart and imprisoned him; what did Nys imagine would happen to her once the Mincer died?
Sindatari insisted that he was the only thing standing between her and an eternity of servitude. He had warned her against approaching the Raven Queen, and she had gone into her temple anyway.
Nys looked away. Since regaining herself, she had felt that she should not exist. Sindatari agreed: she should have been destroyed. He was breaking his wings trying to save her while she kept returning to the being he called her jailer.
Then he asked why she had withheld Garrus’s identity from the Duke.
She did not want anyone else harmed. If someone had to suffer, she would rather it be her.
“Then we lied for the same reason.”
Sindatari disappeared. Bustomi’s raised fist completed its movement, and he announced that they were going to make mincemeat of the Mincer.
An Adventurer on Patrol
Ned prepared the circle while Nys concealed herself among the bushes and Fable readied her magic. Fern waited beside the fountain with a reliquary and a story.
Garrus approached in his guard uniform, his hair neatly cut and his armor well tailored. A curved weapon rested in a familiar velvet scabbard. He arrived with a spring in his step and asked which citizen needed assistance.
Fern explained that he had dropped his reliquary into the fountain. He was traveling with the Vlorfan delegation and needed help retrieving it.
Garrus became fascinated by the journey. He had nearly become an adventurer himself and imagined Vlorfa as a place of monsters, pirates, and elves raining arrows upon travelers. When Fern described the trip as business, Garrus disagreed. He had crossed the Dragon Bridge and traveled through the Sapest beneath skies filled with dragons. That was an adventure.
He climbed into the fountain to retrieve the reliquary. Fable cast Suggestion, persuading him to accept her next spell. His supernatural luck failed him, and Magic Aura settled over him. The circle now treated him as a fiend.
Garrus returned Fern’s property before noticing the people gathering around him. He asked what was happening.
The False Champion
Fable rested a hand on her sword. Garrus reminded her that attacking a guardsman was a crime; she reminded him that so was murder. He denied having killed anyone.
Fern asked about the scabbard. Garrus claimed that his grandmother had bought it at Divine Relics. If it had been stolen, he would be happy to take a report, but vigilante justice was not how the Cove handled theft.
Then Nys emerged with her bow drawn and ordered him to disarm. His expression changed as he recognized her.
She told him that his patron had abandoned him. Garrus insisted that the Lady had blessed him: he was the hand of the Raven Queen, chosen for this work. Nys had spoken to the Lady herself, she replied, and the Raven Queen disavowed him.
He refused to believe her. He spoke with her every night and carried her greatest knight at his side. With one more kill, Ondor’s knowledge would be his.
Nys ordered him to surrender. Garrus reminded her that he had spared her and her husband. As the bells began to ring, he told them to let everyone come. The god of death was on his side.
He could not die.
Bustomi stepped forward, condemned his betrayal of the Cove’s trust, and cast Hold Person. Garrus froze with one hand on the scabbard.
When Fortune Turned
Fable pulled the scabbard and weapon from Garrus’s belt and threw them clear of the circle. Even if he killed them all, she told him, he would never leave the fountain. Then she used her remaining burst of energy to punch him in the face.
Nys called for him to be restrained and brought in, but Fern wanted the danger ended. Garrus was a warlock; removing the blade had not removed his magic, and imprisonment left open the possibility of another escape.
The party continued the attack. Fern struck repeatedly while Garrus struggled against the paralysis. When Bustomi’s spell finally released him, the monk’s stunning strike kept him helpless. The luck that had saved him on the balcony now ignored him.
Ned held back, unable to bring himself to strike a defenseless man.
Nys retrieved the Scythe of Penance and the Scabbard of the Damned, then raised her bow. Her arrow passed through Garrus’s neck, and he fell into the fountain as the paralysis left his body. Blood spread through the water. He did not regenerate.
Hreda arrived with the guard and looked down at the scene. Finally, it was over.
The party had recovered their first Tide and reached level nine. Above the fountain, a raven spread its wings and flew away.