Session 19 (part 2): Korvut's Story

Game Date: Moonday 26 Rova [September] 4711

After the meeting with Madame Mvashti, Charrone decided to try to have a chat with the town smith again. He wasn't at his shop, but a neighbor mentioned that he was probably having lunch "and a drink or three" at Risa's Tavern. The paladin thought that lunch sounded like a good idea anyway, and headed over there.

Risa's was the smallest tavern in town, and catered to an almost exclusively local crowd. When Charrone entered the barroom, someone shouted, "Hey look! It's Charrone of the Sandpoint Six!" and several people started to applaud. Charrone waved back. She noticed that Das Korvut was sitting at the bar. He glanced her way, frowned, then turned back to his lunch. Charrone sat at the bar two seats away from him. A smiling woman in her late 30s was behind the bar. "Welcome to Risa's Place," she said. "What can I get for you today? We've got spiced potato stew today, and I just tapped the first cask of this year's cider." Charrone said that sounded lovely, and asked if she was Risa. "Me? No, I'm Lanalee. Risa's my mother. She's mostly retired, but we still use all of her recipes!"

Charrone then turned to the smith. "Good afternoon, Mr. Korvut!" The smith nodded back curtly. "I'm so sorry if I caught you at a bad time the other day. I do apologize." Korvut shrugged. The paladin continued, "It's just that I'd heard so much about your skill at forging weapons and armor. It's rare that a human can learn the ancient Dwarven arts. I understand they're pretty secretive." Korvut shrugged again. "I was hoping that I could commission a new shield. Mine got pretty battered recently when I was fighting a bugbear."

"A bugbear? You adventuring sorts fight a lot of monsters, don't you?" Korvut observed.

"Sometimes," replied Charrone, "and other times we have to fight people. I've found that the worst monsters can be human." At that, Korvut nodded. He drained his glass and asked for a refill.

"That's for damn sure. It wasn't goblins that killed my family."

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I understand if you don't want to talk about it, but may I ask what happened?"

The smith got a faraway look in his eyes. "It was five years ago. Before the fire. There had been two murders in as many days, but people were thinking it was the Sczarni settling debts among themselves, so no one was too worried for themselves yet. That would change. Maia, that was my wife, and our boy Simon went from the shop to Vindler's general store a little after dark. They wanted to get there before he closed. When they hadn't come back after an hour, I got worried, so I walked over there myself to see what was holding them up. There was a crowd of people by the entrance to Tanglefoot Alley, and they hushed up real quick when I walked by. Deputy Hemlock walked over to me, and told me that something bad had happened to Maia, and that I didn't want to see it. I pushed past him and saw her, or what was left of her, on the ground. Should have taken his advice and not looked. Then, I asked where Simon was. Nobody had seen him. I spent weeks looking for Simon, even before Hemlock figured out he was Jervis Stoot all along. I couldn't get Sheriff Avertin to put together a proper search party. He said he needed to find the Chopper to protect the living. After both Avertin and the Chopper were dead, I still coudln't get anyone to help beside one or two of the town guard on their off-nights. And then there was the fire. I guess a missing ten-year-old boy is small potatoes compared to those, but I never forgave them for giving up on my son like that." He drained his glass and asked for another.

Charrone was taken aback by his story. "That is tragic. I am so sorry..."

Krovut cut her off. "I don't want your pity! If you adventurers had been interested, you could have taken care of the Chopper easily! Or at least used your magic to find Simon. But no, we ere on our own. Where were you then?" demanded Korvut.

"Five years ago, I was fourteen years old, and still living with my parents in Kintargo, in Cheliax," said Charrone quietly.

Korvut softened. "Fourteen? That's how old Simon would be now. Or how old he should be. I've seen him, you know. Simon. But he still looks like he's nine."

"What do you mean that you saw him?"

"It's happened three times. The local kids, they make fun of me. The first time, I thought it was one of them throwing stones at my shop's windows. But then I saw him: Simon looking into my window. I ran outside, but he ran away from me, up High Street. I see him turn left onto Tower Street, but by the time I got there, he was nowhere to be seen. The same thing happened two other times, most recently last week." He continued, " I went to see Madame Mvashti, and she told me to seek help from the last people I'd want it from. Maybe that's you folks. Can you help me? I just have to know what happened to my son!"

Charrone said that she would do whatever it took.

Back at the Rusty Dragon, Charrone filled in the rest of the party what she'd learned. Looking at a map of town, they realized that the path the spirit of Simon took headed straight for Chopper's Isle, where the Chopper had lived for 15 years as the unassuming artist Jervis Stoot.