Artemis is launched backward by a painful shockwave as a dozen mephits begin their attack. Morgryn catches her, preventing her from falling off the side of The Scarab. Half of the little monsters are fiery, spitting magma; while the other half have a cool dustiness to them. The creatures begin targeting the ship’s sails as Decklepockle shouts orders and tries to keep sailing on target.
The magma mephits begin casting Heat Metal, and Artemis is suddenly glad neither she nor Rocky wears armour. She notes that her new friends Vellym and Morgryn don’t either, but they are forced to drop their metal weapons.
Firing Eldritch Blasts, Artemis and the others assist the ship’s crew to fight back. It’s scrappy, but eventually, all of the mephits are either dead or chased off.
Heavily damaged in the fight, The Scarab is losing altitude quickly. Assisting Decklepockle, they’re able to get to the right district of Port Zoon. On the way down, Artemis notes the intense weather plaguing the city. A cyclone spins above the tower where they saw the explosion earlier. The orb atop the building looks like a wreck of damaged arcane mechanics. Sparks fly. Lightning cracks sporadically throughout the sky, originating from the tower. Rain pours down, sometimes hot, and sometimes freezing.
Duerek navigates them to a workshop he knows that can get the ship back into working order. “Either way,” Duerek shouts out. “There’s no way we’re flying anytime soon with this shitstorm.”
As the ship bumps into the roof of Charming Chariots, they’re greeted by the shop’s proprietor, Merula. She’s a halfling with long, curly brown hair worn up in a messy bun. Her well-used apron and goggles slung around her neck give the impression that she works on the ships as much as she runs the business. Merula rests an intricate crossbow in her arms as she inspects those who’ve just landed on her rooftop.
“Ah, Duerek!” Merula greets the dwarf. “I see you’ve brought some new faces with you this time. And some more work for me, it seems.”
“Aye.” Duerek introduces everyone, and Merula takes them down below to talk logistics.
“What’s going on with your, uh, weather tower?” Vellym asks, once Duerek and Merula have agreed on repair terms.
“The Timuafa?” Merula sighs. “That’s pretty recent. But whatever it is… sure doesn’t seem like an accident.”
Merula tells them what she knows about it. It’s run by the Arcane Dynamics Guild, who run most things in Port Zoon. Laws are upheld by the Marquis, like most cities on the Coast. He’s a serious dude, colloquially called “Iron Puss”. But not to his face. “He’s quite the efficiency nazi.” Marula notes. “But, he is a good leader, as much as I loathe to admit it.”
It sounds like the working conditions in the city aren’t great. A lot of the lesser criminals are put to work under the Guild, under the promise of lighter sentences if they perform well.
“Maybe some of these disgruntled workers are behind the sabotage at Timuafa,” Morgryn suggests.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case,” Merula admits.
“Well, we’re grounded for at least a few days.” Duerek acknowledges. “Think I’ll go and have me a drink.”
“Great idea.” Rocky agrees.
“If we’re here for a few days, maybe we can see if there’s something we can do to help?” Artemis suggests.
“Would be a good way to make some coin while we’re stuck here.” Morgryn nods.
“At the very least,” Vellym suggests, “I’d be interested in asking some questions about this malfunctioning arcane tower.”
Heading out of Charming Chariots, the weather has gotten even worse than when they first landed. A group of well-muscled workers is running off in the direction of the Timuafa.
“Is this the sign?” One calls out.
“I don’t know, but what else could it be?” Another answers.
Quickly donning a disguise, Artemis jogs up into the throng with them. “Sign for what?” she asks one of the labourers next to her.
“The sign we’ve been waiting for, to rebel against the Marquis.” It’s all the proof she needs, as she waves the rest of the party on.
They take a slightly different route towards the tower. Slowing their jog to a walk when a gigantic coal golem blocks their way. It takes an aggressive stance in the middle of the street as a group of individuals gathers around it. The smell of a dozen people’s fear mixes with the static of the storm.
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