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# Umbral Gaze 1
Two years have passed since our intrepid adventurers fought and defeated a hydra near Venron in what villagers now call "the hydra incident". In other parts of Faerûn, those less in-the-know refer to the battle as "that thing at M. Pteey Lake".
Two years have passed since our intrepid adventurers fought and defeated a five-necked terror near Venron in what villagers now call "the hydra incident", and those less informed know as "that thing at M. Pteey Lake".
As they stand together now, summoned by supreme authority to a high-curtained forecourt under the mild Waterhavian sun, party members speculate about their situation and watch as shadows cast by serried wall-top grotesques slide unremittingly across the flagstones. Jaggedly sculpted profiles grow long and pointed in the golden hour, a hundred umbral fingers that stretch over our heroes to scrabble at the stonework and prank the quadrangle in narrow slats of shade. At one end, a pair of doors blocks the entrance of the mansion to which the courtyard belongs; at the other, iron gates fill an archway that leads to the road.
As they stand together now, summoned by supreme authority to a high-curtained forecourt under the mild Waterhavian sun, party members speculate about their situation and watch as shadows cast by serried wall-top grotesques slink unremittingly across the flagstones. Jaggedly sculpted profiles grow long and pointed in the golden hour, a hundred umbral fingers that stretch over our heroes to scrabble at the stonework and prank the quadrangle in narrow slats of shade. At one end, a pair of doors blocks the entrance of the mansion to which the courtyard belongs; at the other, iron gates fill an archway that leads to the road.
In spite of the shared wealth of knowledge and experience between them, no adventurer can say what has ultimately brought about this happy reunion, only they attend a summons from Laeral Silverhand[^laeral], Open Lord of Waterdeep, whom it would be unwise to disappoint. Their conversation is still worthwhile--- all are glad to see one-another again and to share a few brief stories of where they've been and what they've been doing since that fated day two years ago.
The wealth of knowledge and experience between them does little to make clear what has ultimately brought about this happy reunion; the adventurers know only that they attend a summons from Laeral Silverhand[^laeral], Open Lord of Waterdeep, and would be unwise to disappoint. Their conversation is still worthwhile--- all are glad to see one-another again and to share a few brief stories of where they've been and what they've been doing since that fated day two years ago.
Warren[^warren] looks much as his companions remember, powerful and rotund as the day they parted. He opened a business a while back, crafting and trading in high-end cutlery, and has taken up residence within a nearby mid-sized town, to which customers are drawn from all over Faerûn by the fine workmanship of his forks, knives, and spoons. He carries several examples of that handiwork with him now, secured by loops and pouches all about his person. As the harengon talks, he reveals a few interesting details of his past, including that he was raised underground among the dwarves!
@ -18,31 +18,35 @@ Gottlob Graal[^gottlob] leans casually against the door, a cloak of pale twill h
Carmal Rumbar[^carmal] exchanges idle words as he looks about the courtyard. Behind him hangs a bulging traveler's pack, stuffed to its limit with unseen pounds of equipment, a large, polished button securing a flap over its opening. The actor shares little of his recent escapades, preferring to listen to those of the others: the fundaments of stories yet unwritten.
As the party counts heads, they notice that one of their number is missing: the wizard, Louisa Whitlock[^louisa]. Sensing an immense challenge ahead of them, the present members are hopeful that no ill-fortune has befallen her. Louisa will be around as soon as she can, no doubt; probably she was waylaid reassuring some hapless farmer that talking animals are _not_ on the rise and that he needn't worry about his pigs planning a revolt any time soon.
As the party counts heads, they notice that one of their number is missing: the wizard, Louisa Whitlock[^louisa]. Sensing that what task lies before them will demand as much strength as they can muster, the present members hope that no ill-fortune has befallen her. Louisa will be around as soon as she can, no doubt, probably waylaid reassuring some hapless farmer that talking livestock is _not_ a phenomenon on-the-rise and that he needn't watch his pigs _too_ closely for indications of malcontent.
Before long, a guard emerges from the heavy double doors, holding one open with his gauntleted hand and stating politely that their presence is requested inside. Taking up the rear, he sets a brisk pace down a long and richly decorated hallway. On the walls hang paintings of otherworldly scenes--- some of which Gottlob recognizes as belonging to other planes--- and scores of magical artifacts beyond a mean treasure hunter's wildest dreams. As the party comes to yet another set of doors, silver-inlaid slabs of oak that reach up to the ceiling, a second guard swings them open and ushers our heroes through.
Before long, a guard emerges from the heavy double doors. He swings one fully open, propping it against his heel, and states firmly--- but with practiced diffidence--- that their presence is requested inside. Taking up the rear, he sets a brisk pace down a long and richly decorated hallway. On papered walls hang paintings of otherworldly scenes--- some of which Gottlob recognizes as belonging to other planes--- and scores of magical artifacts beyond a mean treasure hunter's wildest dreams. As the party comes to yet another set of doors, silver-inlaid slabs of oak reaching to the plastered ceiling above, a second guard, waiting in the corner, unstoppers the portal and ushers our heroes through.
With trepidation, they glance around the war-room before them. Gottlob and Clementine, Waterhavians of the group, recognize Laeral Silverhand, child of Mystra and Lord of Waterdeep, as she reposes on a shallow dais at the end of a long, low table in the center of the chamber. Her white robes and silver hair conspire in a stately cascade to convey the momentary impression of a calcite-hewn portrait gilded with a thousand-thousand pearls. Dozens of officials and functionaries fill rows of seats toward the periphery or the room, each behind their own small desk, and only as Lord Silverhand gestures to the newly-arrived party do they stymie the frenzy of their conversations. Silverhand addresses its members, inviting them to approach her grand table. They bow deeply, and she proceeds to explain the situation that constitutes the ultimate reason for their presence.
With trepidation, they glance around the war-chamber before them. Gottlob and Clementine, Waterhavians of the group, recognize Laeral Silverhand, child of Mystra and Lord of Waterdeep, as she reposes on a shallow dais at the end of a long, low table in the center of the room. Her white robes and silver hair conspire in a stately cascade to convey the momentary impression of a calcite-hewn portrait gilded with a thousand-thousand pearls. Dozens of officials and functionaries fill rows of seats toward the periphery of the room, each behind their own small desk, and only as Lord Silverhand gestures to the newly-arrived party do they stymie the frenzy of their conversations. Silverhand addresses its members, inviting them to approach her at the table. They bow deeply, and she proceeds to explain the situation that constitutes the ultimate reason for their presence.
{% This supposedly happened "within the last month". %}
> I have received troubling reports of an otherworldly incursion in the Sword Coast's northern peak--- eyewitnesses verify what I am about to tell you. The region has undergone a planar fissure, a tear in the fabric that separates one aspect of reality from the next. By great fortune, a powerful wizard was able to patch the hole, but not quickly enough to contain everything. My intelligence has determined that _nine_ beholders slipped into our realm before the fissure was closed and have since scatted themselves to the far reaches of Toril. Each is wreaking something between havoc and irritation as we speak.
> I have received troubling reports of an otherworldly incursion in the Sword Coast's northern peak--- eyewitnesses verify what I am about to tell you. Less than a month ago, the region underwent a planar fissure, a tear in the fabric that separates one aspect of reality from the next. By great fortune, a powerful wizard was able to patch the hole, but was not quick enough to contain all that wished to cross over. My intelligence has determined that _nine_ beholders slipped into our realm and scatted themselves to the far reaches of Toril, where each wreaks something between havoc and irritation even as we speak.
The Open Lord goes on to divulge details of the incursion, prompting Almuth--- who was summoned for his expertise on beholders--- to elucidate the species for his companions. He describes beholders' conventional behaviors and motivations, explaining their cunning paranoia, supreme arrogance, and their origin in the Far Realms, being descended from a deity that beholder-kind calls the "Great Mother". Producing an image, he goes on to detail the monsters' abilities: they project a cone a magic suppression from a single central eye and rays of devastating magical power from the eye stalks that surround it. Though capable melee fighters, beholders usually prefer to float just beyond the range of attackers' primitive physical weapons, raining curses and death on their playthings from above.
The Open Lord goes on to divulge details of the incursion, prompting Almuth--- summoned for his expertise on beholders--- to elucidate the species for his companions. He describes beholders' conventional behaviors and motivations, explaining their cunning paranoia, supreme arrogance, and their origin in the Far Realms, being descended from a deity that beholder-kind calls the "Great Mother". Producing an image, he goes on to detail the monsters' abilities: they project a cone that suppresses magic from a central eye and rays of devastating magical power from the eye stalks that surround it. Though capable melee fighters, beholders usually prefer to float just beyond the range of attackers' primitive physical weapons, raining curses and death on their playthings from above.
As Almuth concludes his lesson and his answers to succeeding questions, Lord Silverhand makes the adventurers' task clear: they will vanquish the invaders, or they will die in their attempt. As skepticism permeates the group, Laeral reveals the attendance of two consultants, each of whom has agreed to provide whatever assistance they can. As if on queue, a lurid vortex fills the space beside her and a raven-haired woman[^tasha], dressed to match, materializes in a rush of air with a crack like a gods's tankard, fumbled from the table of heaven, striking earth a mile off.
As Almuth concludes answering the questions that inevitably follow his lesson, Lord Silverhand makes the adventurers' task clear: they will vanquish the interlopers, or they will die in the attempt. As skepticism permeates the group, Laeral reveals that the party will have assistance from two consultants who will be attending shortly. As if on queue, a lurid vortex of dust like fireflies fills the space beside her, and a raven-haired woman[^tasha], dressed to match, materializes with a rush of air and a crack like a gods's tankard, fumbled from the table of heaven, striking earth a mile off.
She is introduced as "Tasha", but needs no introduction. It was she who sealed the planar fissure and tracked several of the nine beholders to their current locations. The demonologist and renowned planeswalker volunteers to serve as transportation for the party, shuttling them through dimensions to far flung corners of Toril unreachable by non-magical means. Unfortunately, this will the the extent of her help, as other, more pressing issues demand the bulk of her attention elsewhere.
She is introduced as "Tasha", but needs no introduction. It was she who sealed the planar fissure and tracked several of the nine beholders to their current locations. The demonologist and renowned planeswalker volunteers to serve as transportation for the party, shuttling them through dimensions to far flung corners of Toril unreachable by non-magical means. Alas, the witch's aid shall extend no further than this; other, more pressing issues demand the bulk of her attention elsewhere.
Concurrently, Laeral's hands intricately over the table, tracing an inscrutable pattern across its top. A ten-pound sphere of hazy crystal deploys from the great slab's center and comes to rest on a dark, squat, satin-lined plinth. As Tasha finishes speaking, Laeral continues her spell, and smaller spheres, set into the walls of the room, float upward, issuing a limpid glow in solidarity with the overextended lamplight of the chamber's recesses. A voice like sand and broken glass emanates from the central ball as it too glows and the second consultant makes himself heard.
Concurrently, Laeral traces an inscrutable pattern across the tabletop, her long and practiced fingers striking in their graceful undulations as she gathers the weave about them. A sphere, hewn of one massive, hazy crystal and polished to perfect clarity, deploys from the great slab's center to rest on the velvet cushion of a squat plinth. As Tasha finishes speaking, Laeral continues her spell, and smaller spheres, set into the walls of the room, float upward, issuing a limpid glow in solidarity with the overextended lamplight of the chamber's recesses. A voice like sand and broken glass emanates from the central ball as it too glows and the Xanathar[^xanathar] makes himself heard.
> Oh, Great Xanathar!
The Xanathar needed little convincing to join the effort; to see Toril purged of his abominable kin is among the crime lord's greatest aims. Still, like that of Tasha, his assistance must be limited in scope--- the underworld's quotidian is demanding, and he cannot afford to compromise his position in Waterdeep by quitting it for the lairs of his enemies. Still, the beholder's insight into the machinations of his own kind is invaluable--- he imparts morsels of wisdom with the adventurers and bystanding officials of Waterdeep. Tasha produces sketches of the nine so-called "Umbral Tyrants".
![Sketches of the nine escaped beholders: "Candlehead", "Death Kiss", "Astral Conductor", "Deathrun", "Necromaniac", "The Omni-Viewer", "Cyclone", "The Witness", and "Monoeye".](/assets/umbral_sketches.jpg)
Our heroes must decide which monster is to be the object of their first foray into the business of beholder hunting. They ask for details and for recommendations; Tasha conveys what is known. Death Kiss evicted a sect of Red Wizards from their base in a previously abandoned castle in the south. Candlehead built a mountain of cake in Neverwinter and preys on travelers. Omni-Viewer uses sound to lure peasants toward a cavernous portal to the Underdark; they are never seen again. The Witness disappeared into the Underdark itself, working its nefarious designs in corners unglimpsed. The decision is a difficult one--- agreeing on an choice, more difficult still--- but, after nigh-interminable questions asked to their host and her consultants, minutes of contention, and a ninefold palaver with the goddess Eldath, a decision is reached. The party will set out in the morning with the the Witness--- a seemingly conventional example of its kind--- in their sights.
{.thematic}
***
Under the light of the scimitar moon that slips coolly through blinds and around shutters drawn only half-shut, our heroes slumber in rented beds, paid for with municipal coin. While some toss in excitement, thrilled by dreams of the dawn's adventures, others are serene in their anticipation. Amidst the clamor of clocks across Waterdeep that chime the midnight hour, the party is whisked by unanswerable magics through a chasm of scintillating vapors and deposited, standing under their own powers, upon a roundel of charoite in a muddle of lilac effervescence. Each is unsettled to see the others in their dreams so suddenly and in so strange a setting, but before any can ask the question on their lips, Tasha reappears in a heady turbulence of bubbles, preempting them all.
She explains her reasons; the renowned planes-traveler provides an alternative to the Open Lord's path of violence. If the party is willing to attempt to reason with the beholders they encounter on their quest, learning their motives, relating to them, and guiding them away from evil, she is willing in turn to compensate them most handsomely for their efforts. The irregular behaviors of the beholders loosed into the realms hint at irregular temperaments, and if there is a chance to align new such powerful creatures with the light, it must be seized with all tenacity and ardor.
The renowned planeswalker offers an alternative to Silverhand's regimen of violence. If the party is willing to approach their quest with empathy and guile, learning the beholders' motives, relating to them, and guiding them away from evil, she is willing in turn to dispense handsome remuneration. The irregular behaviors of the beholders loosed into the realms hint at irregular temperaments, and if there is a chance to align new such powerful creatures with the light, it must be seized with all tenacity and ardor. She doesn't press for a commitment, confident in the merits of her proposal and the accordant intelligence of the party members, but
[^warren]: Harengon Forge Cleric (10) of Moradin
@ -57,6 +61,8 @@ She explains her reasons; the renowned planes-traveler provides an alternative t
[^louisa]: Human (llama) Wizard (10) of the Scribes' Order
[^laeral]: Immortal Chosen of the goddess Mystra, Laeral Silverhand is a wizard of untold beauty and power who has been the public face of Waterdeep's elites for decades; she will no doubt continue to rule for centuries more.
[^laeral]: Immortal Chosen of the goddess Mystra, Laeral Silverhand is a wizard of untold beauty and power who has been the public face of Waterdeep's elites for decades; she could continue to rule for centuries more.
[^tasha]: You already know who [Iggwilv](https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Iggwilv) is.
[^tasha]: You already know who [Iggwilv](https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Iggwilv) is.
[^xanathar]: [The Xanathar](https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Kirukeskai) is an [elder orb](https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Elder_orb) who controls an empire of crime in Waterdeep.