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Porter could not be stopped if denied. Based only on the talents she had displayed so far, Balspire surmised she was capable of getting what she wanted from The Mighty Flagons. Unknown to the drunken master was that he shared an extraordinary quality with the Drow cleric. Both ascribed to differing belief structures that taught similar lessons assuring them their paths crossed for a greater reason. There was no way of telling how long Porter had been following the group or what she already knew about them or if she had other schemes in play. Decker’s shortcomings were as numerous as the jewels filagreed into his brass platemail, but Toril avoided widescale elemental disaster because of the role he played in thwarting the doomsday cults. Like the disgraced dwarf, she would remain useful to them so long as it benefited her. Balspire decided he would rather have Porter where he could keep her under closer observation. He wanted to know more about her in the event that she became a threat, so he glanced her way to throw her a question but the words stuck in his throat when he noticed something different about her.

X84 could manufacture trinkets for Porter, but that motive was ulterior to her true meaning; just like his exterior hid complex machinations, she was hiding something possibly as intricate has his own inner-workings. Decker was very vocal about the greatness of Dwarves and their significance throughout history. According to his tales, they have been hammering souls into metal for lifetimes innumerable and could fulfill Porter’s wildest commission. If she was willing to travel to Waterdeep then she could have traveled a little farther to Undermountain. There she could have found a Dwarf to craft magical items for her at a reasonable cost, much lower than the high price of adventuring. Instead of waiting for the work to be done from within the protective walls and accomodations of Waterdeep, she chose to involve herself in a conflict between The Mighty Flagons and a shadow organization called the Zhentarim. Both groups were known to her solely by their reputation. This did not compute without factoring for an unknown variable, Porter was after something more and X84 was about to challenge her story but a sudden and drastic change in her appearance caused him to forego his inquiry for an unrelated question, “did you expand your frame, Porter? In the last minute?”

“Don’t call her fat. Its not right. You’re being really insensitive to her womanhood, X,” Lutch was to her rescue again, “you’ll have to forgive him, we turned him ‘on’ just a few minutes ago and he doesn’t understand how to converse with the females,” Lutch peered in Porter’s direction but could not see anything, blinded by his miniature bear companion he called Kiog, who was hugging his head, gnawing at the Half-Orcs bald, alino head.

“You don’t have to worry about X, though, because I am going to teach him good,” Lutch continued, barely audible with his face buried in furry, bear belly, “you’re not even going to recognize him, you’re gonna be, like, ‘”who is this strapping young gentleman, and, does he, perchance, have a misses?”’ Then you’ll have to break his heart when you tell him that you are already spoken for because you fell in love with me while I was teaching X84 about mutual respect, and how could any lady not because it was really impressive, and X84 will say, ‘“Beep, I know a lot about equality now, boop, and I understand your decision, and, honestly, I would have asked Lutch first if I thought he was into it but I know he doesn’t want my equipment because I’m a robot, boop, boop.”’ We’re all about to learn a lot about race and love. Plus, bears” Kiog cooed, as if he understood his master.

Jacuzzi groaned but did not wake. He would have argued were he not lifeless and limp over Lutch’s shoulder.

“No, Lutch,” X84 explained his meaning in greater detail but no one was listening.

Decker was not the first companion Lutch had fought. Many other flagons had been emptied before today. Porter could make herself a problem and the group would survive, more members would be gained then lost. Those who fell in the course of their adventures – Wince, Harper, Jebi, and Decker – were memorialized in small snowmen that Lutch fashioned from mud. These monuments, with his grief, stayed wherever they were crafted. No one wanted him to put an arrow through a person’s nipples (an area of the body Lutch considered to be a natural target) if he did not have to, but Lutch was willing to make a mud-snowman for Porter if he must. With or without a bear on his head. He blew a tuft of ursine fur out of his face to gaze at the Drow cleric because The Mighty Flagons had lacked sex appeal until a few minutes ago and he wanted to savor the view for as long as she was around. Lutch was so dumbfounded by what he saw that he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind when he looked at Porter, “were you a white dude this whole time?” There was a quality to his voice indicative of genuine hurt.

As the flagons were pondering the peculiarity of losing a cherished friend and ally such as Decker and recruiting another adventurer in the same scene, Porter cast a spell to alter her appearance. Their shared reverie ended and they saw amid them, where previously tread a short Drow woman, was a burly human male whose only likeness to Porter was his armor. The timing of her chicanery deepened suspicions abound.

“You guys,” she whined, her voice matched the unpleasantness of her disguise, “just go with it,” the masculine facade clashed with her lady-like carriage, making it easier for the flagons to accept it was still Porter who walked and talked with them.

“Which one is the real you? If this is the real you, does this mean I’m gay?” Asked Lutch.

“What?” Porter did not really want to know what Lutch was talking about. “That’s not important right now.” She waved his words out of the air with a fat hand and shook her frowning, ugly man-head, “Err, I mean, your concerns will have to wait. Maybe after we sort out lodgings, the matter of what just happened and what The Mighty Flagons do next. Then, we can discuss other topics. Maybe.”

“If there is time. And If we really have to.” Balspire added.

“What does ‘gay’ mean?” X84 asked, oblivious to the reproductive quandaries of organic life.

“Flagons!” Porter clapped her hands, her tone stayed conversational and agreeable. “Let’s stay on track. Of all the scum, Zhentarim came at you, knives out. With what they paid your friend to kill you they could have sent a small army at you and they very well might if they decide there is no clean and easy way to get it done. Prove to them that flagons never spill and the Zhentarim will go on paying anything to anyone to do whatever just to protect their reputation, they will show the realms they never let even a small grievance go.”

Porter had their attention. Kiog was as captivated as the others, distracted from gnawing at his master’s scalp.

“Please, do me a favor and call me ‘Gruff’ when I am in disguise.”

“Two names?” Lutch complained.

“How many names should a person have?” X84 asked, his interest real.

“I need your help, I can’t handle your fame,” Porter explained, “shady men lurk at your heels and not all of them work for the Zhentarim. How many hours has your bard spent singing about your deeds at taverns? I’ve heard more songs about The Mighty Flagons than Jacuzzi knows. Some include the names of your fallen friends, most praise your achievements, but all bards are singing about the riches you pick up. Its the most believable, most alluring part to the rhymes. At least it was to the group I trailed for three towns before we found you in Daggerford. They had a change of heart when listening to Jacuzzi’s performance at Lady Luck Tavern. His depictions of monsters you’ve slain really inspired them, others were not so easily turned. It was there that I overheard Decker conspiring with someone from the black network. If not for all the shadows around you guys, I would have made a normal introduction. That’s why I think its in my best interest that no one sees me with The Mighty Flagons.”

“That’s a really good point,” Lutch empathized.

As a group they suspended banter and increased their pace. There was much to discuss but it was not safe, not even in the streets of Waterdeep. As if to remind them of that fact, commotion rang out from a nearby alleyway. Hobgoblins surrounded a human woman beside her two guards.