As he listened to Portia's account, Anser gained his first clear sense of just how powerful Waterdeep truly was.
Waterdeep itself had been built atop Mount Waterdeep, while beneath the mountain lay an enormous dungeon.
It had originally been the home of the Melairkyn dwarven clan, but was later seized by the "Mad Mage" Halaster, who occupied dozens of its levels. The place was filled with traps, monsters, and treasure, and connected directly to the Underdark.
The dungeon's entrance was located inside the famous Yawning Portal, which drew countless adventurers, ambitious schemers, and conspirators to the city.
The dungeon uprising had occurred around the same time as the disaster in Baldur's Gate, but Waterdeep's magical alarms quickly detected the disturbance. The City Guard, wizard corps, and knightly orders rapidly assembled and launched a forceful counterattack, driving the underground monsters back before they could so much as glimpse the sights of Waterdeep.
And those were merely Waterdeep's conventional forces. The Griffon Cavalry, the Walking Statues of Waterdeep, and the city's hidden powerhouses had not even made a move.
The Walking Statues of Waterdeep were gargantuan constructs. There were eight of them in total, each with a Challenge Rating of 18. Most of the time, they simply stood throughout the city like ordinary statues and drew little attention.
Commoners treated them as landmarks, never realizing just how dangerous and terrifying they truly were.
"Sometimes, simply meeting again while still alive is a kind of good fortune, just like the name of your restaurant. I'm from Baldur's Gate. That night, my mentor, classmates, parents, friends... they all died."
Anser raised his teacup and drained it in one gulp. The scalding tea traced a line of fire down his chest and stomach, but could not harm him in the slightest.
Portia snatched the cup from his hand and did not pour him another. Her expression had softened slightly.
"Stoll is a real man. That day, an adult green dragon launched a surprise attack on Durlag. To protect everyone, he fought back in fury and slew the dragon at Claw Bay. But he... died as well."
Crack—
Portia actually crushed the teacup in her hand.
"He came back to life. Just a few days ago. That wasn't an easy thing to accomplish." Anser put on a pained expression.
He focused his attention on Portia, and the dice soon displayed her information:
[Portia, Halfling, Level 10 Ranger (Fey Wanderer)]
"Thank you," Portia said softly. Her small hands picked up another teacup and poured herself some tea. "What... what brings you to Waterdeep this time?"
"We're looking for someone. A friend who went missing during the chaos. She's in the North Ward."
"Do you have any more information?" Portia rested her chin on her hand, her palm-sized face full of concentration.
"She was rescued by House Wyndrivver and hired as a private tutor, but she's forbidden from leaving. I want to take her away directly. Do you think that's possible?" Anser asked humbly.
"I know House Wyndrivver. They're an old noble house and one of the founders of Waterdeep's Noble Mercantile Alliance. Their main businesses are grain, textiles, clothing, tobacco, and liquor. In terms of wealth, they rank among the top ten houses in Waterdeep."
"The family has a fairly good reputation. Their main estate should be in the Sea Ward, so the ones living in the North Ward are probably members of a younger branch. Going straight to their door and demanding someone would probably be a bad idea. Should a conflict break out, the nobles will naturally protect the family's reputation first."
At that, she looked Anser up and down, then asked with a smile, "Are you a noble?"
"More or less. I'm the president of the Union, I hold several territories, I have tens of thousands of subjects, and I suppose I have a little reputation," Anser said mildly.
"That's more than enough! I have a better idea. Prepare a formal calling card that clearly states your identity, then visit House Wyndrivver under the pretext of expressing your gratitude and bring them a gift."
"Remember, go directly to their estate in the Sea Ward. You're a noble with real authority, so they'll definitely receive you. Once you're there, all you need to do is make your request. They're unlikely to refuse."
"That way, even the person living in the North Ward won't be able to object."
Portia snapped her fingers, looking thoroughly confident.
"Good idea. You're remarkably clever," Anser praised.
Waterdeep was a city with hidden depths, and its nobles were probably rather proud as well. They might look down on an outsider from the countryside, so showing up at their door unannounced really could lead to conflict.
Courtesy first, force second—that was a sound strategy. If they truly refused to hand her over, there would still be time to fight afterward.
Still, he did not think matters would come to that. He was hardly an unknown figure. As long as he listed his credentials, there was no way the other party would fail to take him seriously.
He immediately cast Sending and contacted Iris telepathically, asking her to prepare a formal noble's calling card for him. It would be addressed to the head of House Wyndrivver, with the stated purpose of expressing his gratitude.
Anser held no noble title, so there was no need to include one. All he had to do was place the emblem of his six-winged Adventuring Party on it as his family crest.
Most of Waterdeep's merchant nobility did not hold titles either. The city had no traditional hierarchy of noble ranks, placing greater emphasis on family prestige, wealth, and recognition from the Lords.
"You're welcome. Just let me know if there's anything else I can help with." Portia waved a hand, then bounced cheerfully to her feet and left.
...
Quite some time later, Stoll came thundering up the stairs, a trace of relief on his face.
"Thank you." Stoll dropped heavily into a seat and looked at Anser with deep gratitude.
"You two... used to be lovers?" Anser leaned across the table, his face full of curiosity.
"Uh, we were." Stoll rubbed his bald head, looking unexpectedly embarrassed. "We met while adventuring years ago. Later, something happened to Iris's parents, and I was asked to go look after her. I never got the chance to say a proper goodbye."
In truth, it was not that he had not wanted to say goodbye properly. He simply had not known how to deal with their relationship.
Durlag had been fraught with danger back then, and he had not dared burden himself with a family.
"She looks much younger than you," Anser teased.
"She ages well, and halflings live a little longer too. She's already in her forties..."
"Treasure her. She's very clever."
Who would not like a cheerful, optimistic, intelligent woman?
"She's married." Stoll let out a quiet sigh. His voice carried melancholy, along with a trace of feigned nonchalance.
"Huh?" Anser had thought this was going to be a story of old flames rekindling. He had not expected this.
"I've made peace with it. This is good. If she'd kept waiting for me, then I..." Stoll left the sentence unfinished.
Anser silently nodded. Nothing in this world was ever perfect.
Before long, Portia personally brought up dish after dish until the table was completely covered.
Ross beefsteak, Golden Stars—fried potato balls wrapped in cheese—Heartland rose apples and blackberry pie, Falling Leaves Forest salad, Waterdhavian red wine...
Anser ordered an extra serving and sent it into Party Storage to share with Iris and the others. Good food was not something to enjoy alone.
By the time their lavish lunch was over, Iris had already finished preparing the calling card.
The purple card was exquisitely made. Fort Jacqueline kept such items in regular supply.
The most troublesome part had been the family crest. Since there was no seal, Iris could only copy the Adventuring Party emblem by hand, painting it little by little with magical ink.
She had been trained as a Wizard, so it posed no real difficulty for her.
The card included an introduction to his identity: President of the Union, Lord of White Stone Island and Durlag, member of the Magic Research Society...
None of the embarrassing titles, such as Ashen Knight, Dragonslayer, or Chosen Slayer, had been included. On the surface, it all looked perfectly ordinary.
But Anser was very satisfied. If House Wyndrivver was truly as influential as Portia claimed, then merely giving his name would be enough.
'I still need a proper carriage and some attendants to make the right impression.'
He looked toward Stoll. The man was powerfully built and carried an imposing greatsword, but his armor was nothing special. His previous suit had been destroyed by the green dragon.
"There's a set of Magesteel Armor in Party Storage. Put it on, then ride Nornoth and deliver the calling card for me."
"No problem." Stoll understood the importance of appearances.
Anser felt that when the time came to visit, he could not afford to look unimpressive either. Otherwise, they really might take him for some country bumpkin from out of town.
'The Dragonfly can serve as my carriage, and I'll bring a few people along...'
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