Chapter Text
Our heroes' vessel touches down in a dingy alleyway behind a tavern in Lower Northedge. The muffled laughter and conversation of the tavern's patrons echoes across the quiet streets, but no one is there to witness the Concord Jewel's arrival except for a disheveled shifter propped against the wall next to a dumpster, nursing a half-empty tankard of ale.
The shifter man watches, mouth agape, as a giant pink gemstone clanks onto the cobblestones and disgorges four fully armed and armored adventurers and a pack mule. Then he looks down at his tankard, and then back up at the new arrivals, and then back down at the tankard again.
"All I'm saying is that twelve is too many moons," says Magala. "If I were in charge of your planet, I would cut it down to maybe two or three, tops."
"It's a perfectly normal number of moons," Bree argues. "Frankly, I'm astonished that your home planet is able to get by with just one."
The shifter slowly turns, pours the rest of his drink into the dumpster, and stumbles away. "Two mugs of Leara's strong brew is enough for one night, they told me," he mutters. "But I didn't listen, eh? Had to go drink more'n my fair share's worth, eh? Well. Sure shows me. Won't be havin' no more tonight. No sir. Oughta swear off the stuff altogether, I oughta."
Grace waves to him as he leaves. "Wait! Sir! Could you give us some directions before we go?" But he just keeps mumbling to himself, and doesn't turn around.
"No worries," says Fiora. "I'm sure Bree knows this city like the back of her hand."
"I guess I'll attempt a Knowledge (local) check to see if my character knows this city like the back of her hand?" said Mal. She rolled her d20. It landed on a 4.
"Nope, I've got no idea where we are," says Bree. "This ain't Skyway, I can tell ya that much. Looks like one of the lower wards. But which one, couldn't say. We'll need to find ourselves a lift, or a skycoach."
"I don't know what either of those things are, but it sounds easy enough," says Magala.
"I'm assuming the hard part will be getting the Fragment from whoever currently has it," says Grace. "We know it's in the literally above-it-all, literally over-the-top McMansion district. What are the odds it'll be sitting there on the street for us to pick up? Some rich asshat is going to have it locked away in a private vault or something, mark my words."
She sighs. "Welp. Let's go inside and ask around about…um…I'm assuming from context that a skycoach is like some kind of flying taxi?"
Bree scratches her head. "What's a taxi?"
"Never mind."