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Out the puncture erupted a geyser of blood into the hobgoblin’s face, mouth agog to savor his victory as it colored him a murderer. At the end of his life was vengeance for all goblins slain by Serelt Mistra’s wares. Defeating her put an end to the military advantage she supplied to their enemies, breaking her armor with goblinoid craftsmanship also shattered her brand. This was the captain’s final thought as he stared into the panicked eyes of the legendary elf. He hoped demons suited in his sense of justice overwhelmed her mind instead of pleasantries to carry her into the afterlife.

X84’s vorpal blade was brought down with the highest measure of urgency that his frame could produce and removed the cackling head of the adversary, it rolled away and out of their concern. The leftovers slumped beside Serelt’s corpse. From her chest jutted the hobgoblin’s iron revenge until  yanked free by a metal hand, then thrown down the alley.

“Had The Mighty Flagons arrived sooner our odds for success would have been exponentially higher. No one could have done better with the time that was bought.” X84 assured the others.

“I will not be the first one to point out this would have gone down differently if the bard was here, so this is his fault, probably.” Lutch said.

“That monster had it out for… Serelt?” Balspire garnered the name from hobgoblin chatter. “They had it out for them.” He nodded to the dead elves.

Porter wiped the blood off her rapier then returned it to its sheath at her hip. She walked to Serelt’s body, knelt over it, and rifled through the habiliments adorned on the deceased. Reaching into several folds in the armor revealed nothing, nor was there anything of interest in any of the pouches hanging from the belt, then Porter ungloved Serelt’s hands and found a diamond ring. It slipped off the sweaty finger without a snag and Porter brandished the jewel to the sunlight, which fragmented into a prismatic aura. After a moment of inspection Porter cleeked the discovery.

“Just what kind of cleric loots the victim?” Balspire chided.

“I promise, I plan to give it back,” Porter went on, “after we get her body to someplace safe.”

“Absolutely not,” Balspire refused.

“Let’s hear her out. Dead body stuff could be fun.” Lutch did not want to rule anything out.

“No,” spoke the dragonborn.

“I can help her but I need time.”

“Can you bring back the dead?” Balspire’s sarcasm was thick.

“The Traveller showed me how to get here,” Porter said, “he can guide Serelt back to life.”

The argument stopped. Jacuzzi returned with a noisome extravagance typical of bards. Horse hooves drummed down the alley in a cadence comforting to the flagons. They could distinguish the sounds of the majestic beasts that carried them through the lands from any other.

Only with the lupine negotiator’s assistance was Porter able to convince Balspire how to handle the perishable cargo. After the elves were loaded into the merchants carriage, they fastened it to their horses and Jacuzzi directed them to the Blue Mermaid Inn. Serelt Mistra’s transport was as famous to the people of Waterdeep as the Mistress of Arms herself, onlookers would have rioted were the carriage not driven by the very image of her. Passersby waved to the impostor and she acknowledged them. None questioned why she was accompanied by figures appearing on inescapable quantities of posters throughout the city.

Staff at the inn conversed with the impersonator and never suspected they were helping a stranger move the real Serelt inside their establishment. Porter, disguised as someone they knew, told them her tent needed mending and the employees unwittingly carried around rolls of canvas packed with dead weight. Their interaction ended with her explaining that she was helping her friends acclimate to the new scenery.

In the privacy of the rented space they could finally relax. Jacuzzi performed atop a decorative armoire that amplified the subtle rhythm he tapped with his hind paw. On his ocarina he insinuated a melody into the room. For a while they sat and listened, avoiding eye contact and conversational topics belabored that day. Emptying flagons one contemplative sip at a time. Adventurers required moments like this to readjust misalignment incurred on their travels.

When Porter finished the dark brew that inspired her moniker she walked over to the pile. She recovered Serelt’s ring and flicked it through the air. Balspire was ready to catch it because he had been watching her since she stood up. The Mighty Flagons had put many wrongdoers to death, mourned the loss their companions, and traversed settlements only days ruined. Never had they witnessed a miracle that could undo such permanence.

Together they unwrapped the lifeless elf and doffed her armor. Jacuzzi ceased the furniture beat and changed his tune to a funerary soundtrack. At the drow cleric’s command they placed Serelt Mistra on a large, plush bed, then awaited further instructions.

“Put the ring in her mouth, Balspire.” He obeyed Porter’s outlandish request. “Stay and make sure no one interrupts the ceremony. This will take a while. The rest of you should find something else to do. Maybe refill your flagons downstairs.”

After non-essential personnel vacated, Porter grabbed a rag floating in a basin of soapy water; she scrubbed at the blood on Serelt’s corpse and recited an incantation.

“Rellevart, reve tsol ot eht sseldne daor. Dnem eseht sdnuow os taht siht luos nruter ot reh htap erehw ew dessorc os ehs yam pleh ediug em ot ruoy etaf.”

Interconnectedness with all lifeforms enabled the dragonborn monk to determine the verses of the prayer and for the next hour he was audience to a reversed conversation betwixt Porter and a reverential being she called ‘The Traveller.’ Then, Serelt moved.

Lutch, X84, and Jacuzzi did as was recommended and continued drinking in the bar below. Few seats were occupied at that hour, which was to their relief; they would not be asked to perform songs or explain their battle-weary appearances. Nor did they have to wait to be served libation. Stories poured out of the bartender as steadily as the porter ale he put in their cups and the submission that piqued the adventurers detailed a spectral vigilance that patrolled the streets of Waterdeep.

“Oh, yeah, he’s all over the place. Spookin’ all about like he’s still a member of the watch. Somebody oughta tell him that if you lose your life you don’t get to keep yer job!” Only the man behind the bar laughed at first, then Lutch, after he thought about the joke for a few seconds, joined him in his gaiety.

“Or maybe the watch should change their policy on death to be more inclusive!” Lutch added.

“Jacuzzi, can you explain to me how pleasure is derived from humor? Before you do that, can you define humor?” The warforged asked the rabbitfolk.

“I feel no joy… None.”Admitted Jacuzzi.

X84 waited for purveyor and patron to finish chuckling, then asked, “bar man, what did you mean when you said, ‘like he’s still a member of the watch?’”

“Never done seen it fer me-self, but if you wait long enough for the stools to fill up, people’ll tell ya The Night Watchman stalks wrongdoers and puts a stop to their evildoings. Some’ll say he sees everything!”

“Do you suppose, Jacuzzi, if we find this night watchman he could somehow lead us to the Zhentarim?”

Upstairs, Serelt Mistra’s gratitude wanned to doubt. Her recovery was instantaneous; the gash carved into her chest healed fully, without a scar, during the ceremony and she felt no fatigue from the ordeal. A deep breath later she was sitting upright, scrutinizing her savior.

“One moment, I’m being run in by a hobgoblin, the next I am being resurrected by a drow,” she spoke in elvish, “you think me naive enough to believe that mere happenstance? Luck? Or good timing?”

“I’m… S… Ry?”

“Oh, you will be, if I find out you had anything to do with this, you’ll be sorry. Where are my things?” Her hand found the handle of her rapier and it quickly left its decorative sheath. “Your spider queen won’t save you from the Mistress of Arms when proof of your involvement is uncovered. I am wise to the machinations of the drow! Now, get out!” She menaced her blade at Balspire and Porter until they left.