Table of Contents

Session 6 - Unfinished Business and Buried Secrets

- Waterdeep Dragon Heist

When renovation uncovers more than structural damage

When Construction Reveals Dark Secrets

The familiar rhythm of Jorik’s construction crew had become the soundtrack of progress at Trollskull Manor. But this morning brought an unsettling change as the sounds of productive work gave way to confused murmurs and concerned voices from above. Cog’s triumphant return from his city-wide lamp maintenance crusade was quickly overshadowed by whatever Jorik and his workers had discovered in the roof spaces.

The evidence they found told a story none of them were prepared for: child-sized serving aprons, tiny wooden step-stools built for reaching adult-height surfaces, small tankards and plates worn from heavy use, and fragments of rope that clearly hadn’t been used for construction. These weren’t the belongings of young customers—these were the work implements of child laborers, hidden away in the rafters for fifteen years.

Eostre took the lead in questioning Jorik about the discovery, her military background evident in her systematic approach to gathering information. The dwarf’s discomfort was palpable as he tried to make sense of what his crew had uncovered.

“I’ve worked on a lot of old buildings, and I know taverns sometimes hired young folk as servers,” Jorik admitted, “but hiding their work gear in the roof? That’s… odd.”

The party’s honesty about their own ignorance of the building’s history seemed to reassure him. They were discovering these troubling details together, and their obvious concern for uncovering the truth convinced Jorik to continue his work while keeping them informed of any other unusual discoveries.

A Ghost’s Anguish

Lif’s reaction to the discovered items was unlike anything the party had witnessed from their ghostly ally. The spirit who had been nothing but helpful and hopeful since their arrival suddenly became agitated in a way that spoke of deep, personal pain. He dropped whatever spectral task he’d been performing and rushed to examine the child-sized belongings, writing frantically in the dust with unprecedented urgency.

“NOT FORGOTTEN” and “POOR CHILDREN” appeared in his shaking script, followed quickly by “MY FAULT” - which he immediately crossed out and replaced with “NO - STOPPED TOO LATE.”

The party’s systematic questioning revealed the connections they’d begun to suspect. Eostre asked directly: “Did you know these children?” Lif’s emphatic nodding left no doubt. Cog pressed further: “Were they treated badly?” The ghost’s violent gestures of affirmation made the answer painfully clear. Silvyr’s gentle inquiry about whether this connected to Lif’s death brought hesitant, then desperate nodding that confirmed their worst fears.

For the first time since they’d known him, Lif appeared genuinely distressed rather than merely helpful. But his agitation seemed driven by hope as much as pain—finally, someone was asking the right questions.

The Manor Reveals Its Secrets

What followed was a methodical investigation that transformed their understanding of Trollskull Manor’s dark history. Lif guided them to three crucial locations, each revealing another piece of the horrific puzzle.

In the basement, Eostre’s exceptional investigation skills uncovered a hidden chamber behind what appeared to be a solid wall. Inside, they found unmistakable evidence of imprisonment: rusty chains, scratched pleas for help carved into stone, and stains that told a story no one wanted to imagine in detail.

The main bar yielded its own terrible testimony. Under years of grime and wear, the party discovered carved messages from desperate children: “HELP US,” “SHE HURTS,” “NOT SAFE,” and most heartbreakingly, “LIF TRIES.” One longer message proved particularly revealing: “LIF PROMISED TO HELP - GREZELDA WATCHES ALWAYS.”

The final discovery came from an innocuous-looking donation box behind the bar. What appeared to be a simple charity collection revealed a false bottom containing two sets of ledger books. Grezelda’s public records showed massive donations “for the orphans” alongside minimal actual expenses for their care. Lif’s hidden notes revealed coded entries tracking “problems with G” and “children scared,” culminating in a final, chilling entry: “Tomorrow - must save them - can’t wait longer.”

The Truth Finally Spoken

With the evidence laid bare before them, Lif managed to write the longest message any of them had ever seen from him—a desperate explanation that had waited fifteen years to be heard:

“GREZELDA WAS MONSTER. CHILDREN WERE SLAVES. I TRIED TO SAVE THEM. SHE CUT MY TONGUE SO I COULD NOT SPEAK TRUTH. HANGED ME AND MADE LOOK LIKE THEFT. CHILDREN SCATTERED. SOME SAVED. NEED TO FIND THEM. NEED TRUTH KNOWN.”

The party’s questions came quickly:

Eostre: “Where is Grezelda now?” Lif shrugged sadly and wrote: “GONE MANY YEARS. FLED WHEN PALADINS CAME.”

Null: “What happened to the children?” “SOME RESCUED. SOME GROWN NOW. ONE WORKS DOCKS. REMEMBERS.”

Cog: “What do you need from us?” “CLEAR MY NAME. HONOR CHILDREN’S SUFFERING. STOP GREZELDA IF SHE RETURNS.”

The truth was finally emerging, but it painted a picture far darker than anyone had imagined. This hadn’t been a suicide born of guilt over theft—this had been murder to silence a hero.

Gathering Official Support

Before beginning their search for witnesses, the party made a crucial stop at the Temple of Tyr to collect the remainder of their reward from Savra Belabranta for their successful mission against the Iron Fists protection racket. More importantly, Eostre formally requested membership in the Order of the Gauntlet—a request that was readily accepted given her demonstrated commitment to justice.

This official backing would prove invaluable for the investigation ahead. Savra promised continued missions and support, recognizing that the party had evolved from simple problem-solvers into genuine champions of justice.

An Unlikely Minstrel

The weight of their discoveries had cast a somber mood over the group as they set out for the Dock Ward in search of Tam, the adult survivor Lif had mentioned. But Silvyr, despite his typically low confidence in social situations, surprised everyone with an extraordinary display of musical talent.

The wood elf’s singing—clear, haunting, and unexpectedly beautiful—lifted their spirits during the difficult journey. His performance was so moving that it seemed to lighten the emotional burden they all carried. It became a pattern throughout the session: whenever the investigation grew too heavy, Silvyr’s voice would rise in song, reminding them that beauty could still exist alongside tragedy.

Finding the Survivors

Their search began at The Skewered Dragon, where Silvyr’s attempts at gathering information met with spectacular failure when he fumbled his approach to the bartender. Fortunately, Null stepped in with his characteristic blend of charm and gold, buying a round for the tavern and offering payment for information about a dock worker named Tam.

The investment paid off when they learned that Tam was a regular patron who typically arrived after his shift. Rather than tracking him down at work, they chose to wait—a decision that allowed for a much gentler approach to a clearly traumatized individual.

When Tam finally arrived, Null’s careful introduction mentioning Lif first proved crucial. The dock worker’s astonishment that Lif had become a ghost opened the door to a difficult but necessary conversation. Tam provided crucial information about other survivors: Maria working at a bakery in the Castle Ward, and Jonn serving with the City Watch in the North Ward.

Most importantly, Tam confirmed the magical influence that had affected all the adults during Grezelda’s reign of terror. They had all thought “Auntie Grezelda” was a saint and that Lif had stolen from the tavern before taking his own life out of guilt. None of the adults had ever believed the children’s accounts of what really happened.

A Baker’s Hidden Pain

Maria at Hilmer’s Bakehouse in the Castle Ward proved to be another challenging interview. Silvyr’s attempt at charm backfired spectacularly when his comment about her “nice buns” required Null’s intervention once again. The social misstep nearly ended the conversation before it began, with Hilmer ejecting the party from his establishment.

Fortunately, Maria’s own sense of justice overcame her fear. She caught up with them outside, providing crucial details about the investigation that followed Lif’s death. The paladins who had come to arrest Grezelda and discovered Lif’s supposed “suicide” were Paladins of Helm—followers of the god of vigilance and protection.

Maria also revealed something precious: a loose floorboard where some of the children had managed to hide their most treasured possessions away from Grezelda’s grasping hands. Among these hidden treasures was a locket from Maria’s parents—one of the few connections she still had to her life before the nightmare began.

A Guardian’s Return

Their search for Jonn in the North Ward led them to a City Watch member who had joined specifically to protect children—ensuring that what happened to him and his fellow orphans could never happen to others. The pattern of Silvyr’s beautiful performances continued, lifting everyone’s spirits as they searched.

Jonn’s decision to return to Trollskull Manor with the party was an act of tremendous courage. Entering the place where he had experienced such trauma required facing demons he had spent years trying to overcome. But his commitment to justice and to honoring Lif’s memory gave him the strength to step through that door.

The emotional reunion between Lif and Jonn—the man who had died trying to save him and the child who had survived—was one of the most powerful moments any of them had experienced. Here was living proof that Lif’s sacrifice had not been in vain.

Treasures Hidden in Darkness

Maria’s information about the hidden floorboard led to another crucial discovery. Upstairs, in what had once been the children’s sleeping area, they found a loose board concealing a small collection of treasures: Maria’s family locket, a tiny toy boat, a makeshift shield-shaped badge with the word “Protect” carved into it, and various other small items and notes left by children who had precious little to call their own.

These weren’t just objects—they were symbols of hope preserved in the midst of despair. Each item told a story of a child who had managed to keep something of themselves hidden from Grezelda’s control.

Truth and Justice

As the session drew to a close, the party found themselves with a wealth of evidence, testimony from multiple adult survivors, and a clear understanding of the scope of the crimes that had taken place within their new home. More importantly, they had transformed Lif from a troubled ghost into an active partner in seeking justice.

The investigation had revealed not just the truth about Lif’s heroic sacrifice, but the magical nature of the crimes that had made justice impossible fifteen years ago. Grezelda hadn’t just been a criminal—she had been something far worse, a creature capable of manipulating the very minds of those who might have helped.

But now the truth was emerging, and they had both the evidence and the allies needed to ensure that Lif’s name would finally be cleared. The ghost who had spent fifteen years believing himself a failure could at last see that his sacrifice had meaning, and that the children he had tried to save were living proof that heroism, even in the face of overwhelming evil, can make a difference.

The story was far from over, but for the first time since Lif’s death, justice seemed possible.


Next time: What testimony will Jonn provide about the night Lif died? How will the party approach the official vindication process? And what other secrets does Trollskull Manor still hold?

Party Roster