Shady Business in Westerlee

The school year at Northwind Adventurers Academy had ended, and the Borscht Brigade found themselves in rare spirits. For once, there were no goblins, no magic anomalies, and no portals to strange dimensions—just the gentle offer of rest and hospitality.

Izutsumi had invited the group to her hometown, the coastal city of Westerlee. Though Aggar declined—muttering something vague about a pilgrimage into the wild—the rest of the group joined her, boarding a weathered ferry across the channel. The sea air was brisk, salted, and welcome.

Westerlee was a working city. Not glamorous like the capital or magical like Northwind, but solid and real. Fishing boats bobbed in the harbor, their sails like faded patchwork. Men and women hauled crates of silver ore and nets of wriggling catch across slippery docks. It was a place of routine, of grit, and of community.

Izutsumi led them through winding cobbled streets to the Bloody Parrot Inn, a two-story timbered building painted a sun-bleached red. As they approached the open doors, a scarlet macaw on a perch outside squawked:

“Get out!”

“Chahka,” Izutsumi sighed. “Be nice.”

The parrot fluttered and hissed. “You smell like wizard!”

Inside, the inn was warm and welcoming. The proprietor, Nema the Vulture, greeted Izutsumi with a wide grin. She was a kenku, once a smuggler in her younger years, now content running the Bloody Parrot with sharp eyes and sharper wit.

The group relaxed for the first time in weeks. They shared drinks, hearty fish stew, and laughter. But when night fell and the wind off the ocean chilled the shutters, Dray remained restless.

Something was off.

❖ ❖ ❖

Later that night, Dray stood at his window, gazing down into the mist-filled alley. A figure in a dark cloak was watching his room.

Eyes narrowing, Dray stepped back. He left his room quietly, padding to Izutsumi’s door, knocking. No response. He tried Sharkie’s room next—again, no response.

Just as he turned, Izutsumi’s door creaked open. “What is it?”

“There’s someone outside,” he said. “Watching.”

They crept into Dray’s room. The window was now empty, but something was wrong. A chest was open. A lockbox disturbed.

“My heirloom’s gone,” Dray growled. “Whoever it was, they got in.”

The next morning, the mood was tense. The group followed the trail down the alley and emerged at the back of a narrow, smoky tavern called Maynard’s.

As they approached, the door opened, and two familiar figures stepped out: Ezra and Molly Maynard.

Dray stiffened. Molly matched the shape of the figure he saw. “That’s her,” he hissed.

Ezra smirked. “You should’ve stayed at school, Dray. This is our town.”

When Ezra’s hand reached toward his sword, Dray wisely ran. He knew Ezra was stronger, faster, and meaner. The others followed, but the Maynards and their thugs followed too.

In the scramble, Dray collided with two passersby: a tall aasimar man in elaborate robes, and a dusky elf woman in travel leathers. The aasimar helped him up with a laugh. “Careful there—”

“We don’t want any of your business,” Molly spat.

But it was too late. Ace, the illusionist wizard, and Rumi, the twilight cleric—fellow Northwind students—were caught in the scuffle. Molly and Ezra didn’t care who got in the way.

A brief melee broke out—spells flashed, blades clanged—but before it escalated further, the city guard arrived. Whistles blew. Swords were drawn.

“Everyone on the ground!”

Molly, playing her part with sickly sweetness, told the guards that Dray had stolen from her. She pointed. “He has my coin purse. It’s in his coat.”

The guards looked at Dray.

“I don’t—” he began, but they were already patting him down. From one of his pockets, they pulled a small leather pouch.

Embroidered in gold thread: Molly Maynard.

Dray stared in disbelief. “That’s not mine—”

“Tell it to the magistrate,” a guard snapped.

The Borscht Brigade, along with Ace and Rumi, were shackled and marched through the streets of Westerlee. Dray kept his head down, seething. Sharkie glared daggers. Izutsumi walked quietly, her fists clenched.