Reginald Ophidian (the name he had recently adopted since arriving to Waterdeep) quietly slid his way down the alley outside Gavin & Hextor’s Haberdashery. It had been over 3 months since he began tracking down his sister Hanna’s murderer, and he was closing in.
His blood boiled with anticipation at the thought of squeezing the life from her killer. Staring into his eyes, as all signs of life fade away from his victim is all he could think of. Revenge for his sister had become his reason for living. Every waking hour had been spent scheming, or investigating his case.
He had found the looted remains of his sister a week after her dimise. A strange wound to her head had been his only real clue. There was a strange piece of metal he was able to remove from what had remained of her brain. He had tried trailing the large group through the swamps; however the rains had washed away all signs of their passing.
Taking this unique weapon to Secomber he began asking questions about it. Most smiths had no idea however evweryone agreed he should make his way to Waterdeep. Staying in human form had become second nature as he asked everyone on the road of the origins of the strange weapon.
As the stars rained from the heavens midsummer night he vowed to any god listening he would avenge the murder of his sister or die trying. As luck would have it he came across a camped caravan just a day outside Waterdeep. Reginald was able to learn of the pistol and the order of the Firelance as he escorted them the rest of the way. It had taken him weeks but he was able to arrange meetings with several smiths accredited with the creation of the ammunition. Using various methods of bribery & intimidation he was able to identify its creator Bryan Kormallis.
Reginald could hear several voices coming from the haberdashery. It sounded like a joyful reunion inside. He had learned that discretion is vital when interrogating a suspect. He sat outside trying to overhear as much as he could. The group had been gone a long time, the death of many members, but nothing of his sister. As the party exited the building they climbed into the large wagon parked out front. Adventures for sure, he could tell as they were all armed & armored. Two of them wearing pistols he noted, the armor on in particular seemed familiar to him. It took every ounce of his resolve not to charging the wagon. Not only was there seven of them but the Guards were close by as well. He considered following the carriage, but if they were seasoned he might be spotted and lose the element of surprise. This Bryan knew them, more than just customers.
Heading into the shop he produced a small ring from his pocket and slipped it on. “Sorry were closed” shouted Bryon. I know sneered Reginald.