Our next step was gathering intelligence for the Katia rescue mission, which meant a journey north to Brandstrad to charm Count Iakovitch into giving us his plus-one invitation to the Fossen family banquet. But first, we needed legitimate reasons to be traveling there and proper documentation.
Before departing, we consulted with Goras about potential monster targets in the Spuria/Tillnola region. He recommended a Remorhaz - a large insectoid creature that lives in arctic environments but generates massive internal heat. Perfect for Momen’s dragon restoration experiments since he needed something charged with fire essence. Goras mentioned they’re difficult to find since they hibernate for months between feeding periods, but spring was the ideal time to catch them emerging hungry from their lairs. The creature’s heart would be valuable even beyond Momen’s research, as artificers prize them as continual heat sources.
We paid for detailed information about the beast - huge creature, heavily armored, with some nasty abilities including swallow attacks and a heated body. Low charisma though, which Momen found amusing for obvious reasons. The monster’s lair was apparently north of Brandstrad, making our cover story about monster hunting even more believable.
We then visited Duke Oberstein in the capital to inform him about our discovery of Ealdwig. The Duke was understandably surprised to learn that a member of the royal family who’d been missing for nearly 500 years was not only alive but recovering at the Fief. Momen explained how we’d found him preserved by powerful magic in the teleportation dungeon, though the poor man’s mind seemed somewhat damaged by his centuries of isolation.
While there, we also secured travel papers for our trip to Brandstrad. The Duke mentioned that the town had been experiencing troubles with the miners lately - apparently the normally harmonious dwarven workers had been getting into increasingly violent disputes. He asked us to investigate if we had the chance, giving us perfect cover for our real mission.
The journey north took about twelve hours - ten hours by boat followed by a two-hour portage to avoid the longer route around the peninsula. We used the travel time mostly for Momen to scribe spells.
Brandstrad turned out to be more fortress than town. Massive gold outcroppings dotted the landscape, each protected by magical shields and guard towers with rotating lights. Security was incredibly tight - the place was crawling with Imperial guards, and the towers had some kind of magical detection system that could see through invisibility. Tittlin learned that the hard way when one of the lights swept over him.
The population was predominantly dwarven with some half-orcs, which worked in our favor given our mission parameters. When we presented our papers at the gate, the guards were initially suspicious and sent our documents off for verification with the Count himself. While we waited, I took the time to practice my carpentry, creating a remarkably detailed sculpture of the Remorhaz we were supposedly hunting. The craftsmanship caught the guards’ attention and got them talking - they even provided useful information about known Remorhaz nesting sites and hunting techniques. After nearly an hour of waiting, our papers were confirmed legitimate and Lieutenant Fisomi Goldenhorn, who processed us, turned out to be from the Goldenhorn merchant clan - new money goldsmiths and traders who had established themselves in this gold-rich region.
The town itself was essentially a large mining operation with several drinking establishments catering to different demographics. The dwarves favored the Cat and Fiddle and Vulgar Vulture, while the orcs and others gravitated toward the Goblin Goblin Inn and Sleeping Raven Tavern.
We decided to start our reconnaissance at the Cat and Fiddle, since Tittlin’s criminal contacts had confirmed this was Count Iakovitch’s preferred establishment. The plan was to feel out the situation - Momen would chat with Lieutenant Fisomi Goldenhorn to gather local intelligence while I positioned myself to gauge the Count’s reaction to different approaches.
The evening proved enlightening. Count Iakovitch was indeed at the bar, looking frustrated and drinking heavily. Through conversation with Lieutenant Fisomi Goldenhorn, we learned more about the mining troubles plaguing the town. What had started as minor disputes between workers had escalated to near-violence, with nobody willing to explain to the Count what was actually causing the problems.
The situation was clearly wearing on Iakovitch. When I tried to engage him in conversation about the troubles, he expressed complete bafflement at why the normally cooperative dwarven miners had suddenly turned combative. The Lieutenant seemed reluctant to point fingers or provide specifics, claiming it wouldn’t be proper for a guardsman to make accusations.
Meanwhile, Tittlin was working his social magic with some local women while keeping an ear out for useful information. He overheard what sounded like a secretive business deal involving mentions of “coal foot” (apparently a major dwarf clan), gold, the Vulgar Vulture tavern, and the Tamori name - likely referring to the local jeweler Momen was related to.
The evening gave us valuable intelligence about both our cover story and our actual target. The mining troubles could provide legitimate reason for us to stay in town and investigate, while the Count’s obvious stress and isolation made him a more approachable target than we’d expected. Rather than the confident noble we’d anticipated, Iakovitch seemed like someone who could use both companionship and help solving his problems.
We secured rooms for the night, planning to continue our investigation in the morning. The challenge now was figuring out how to transition from concerned visitors offering assistance with the mining situation to trusted companions worthy of a plus-one invitation to an exclusive banquet. Given the Count’s obvious frustration with the local troubles, perhaps solving his dwarf problem could be the key to his heart - or at least his gratitude.