Strife left the inn and wandered back toward the docks. He proceeded down the main street of the area, Central Ave, and approached the corner of 4th Street. He could hear singing, music and laughter in the distance. Upon investigation, Strife found that the mirth was emanating from an establishment on 4th street, next to a sailor’s inn, which bore the descriptive name of “The House of Good Spirits”. This was worth a further look, he thought.
Strife entered the establishment. Inside, a large parlor was extravagantly furnished with fancy furniture, a bar, wall hangings of velvet and plush carpeting. Everywhere he looked, he saw men of means. Wealthy men. Naval officers too, apparently. And girls.
He went to the bar, sat down on an empty barstool, and ordered a drink. The drinks here were very expensive. Darksea Ale, five gold pieces. And up.
While Strife sat, having ordered his drink, he looked to an empty seat next to him. Suddenly, a girl appeared. Literally.
Strife noticed that there was less there than he expected. In fact, the girl was practically transparent. “Welcome to the House of Good Spirits!” said the girl. “We hope you enjoy your stay here!” Then she disappeared.
Bartender delivered the ale Strife had ordered. He asked the bartender if anything was going on in town. “Why go into town,” replied the barkeep, “when you can have such fun here?”
“What are your prices here?” asked the rogue.
“Well, that depends on who you ask,” answered the barkeep.
Strife was wary. “So what is this place?”
“This is the place for gentlemen to have a good time,” replied the bartender.
“Is this place haunted?”
“If you mean, do evil spirits inhabit this place, then no,” the barkeep answered. “If you mean, do ghosts live here, then yes.”
“Can I meet one of them?” Strife inquired. “Of course!” replied the barkeep.
Strife was still puzzled. “Why is this place full of ghosts?” he asked.
The bartender sighed. “‘Tis a sad story,” he answered, “even though it ends happily. It’s best told by one of the ladies themselves.”
“Then I’d like to talk to one of them,” said the rogue. “As you wish,” said the barkeep. Then he lit a red lamp.
Suddenly, the same girl reappeared! “Can I do anything for you, sweetie?” she asked, leaning close to Strife.
“I was hoping to learn something of the history of this place. I heard you could tell me,” said the curious rogue. “I would gladly tell you my story,” the girl responded, pointing to a tip jar on the counter of the bar. Strife deposited fifteen gold pieces in the jar. The girl smiled gleefully. “You are most generous, Sir . . . .”
“Strife’s my name,” the rogue supplied. “What’s your name?”
“Suzanne,” said the ghostly girl. She then proceeded to tell her story.
“It was a hundred or more years ago,” she began. “The house was founded to entertain gentlemen of worth,” Suzanne explained.
“Alas, it was toward the end times of the city, and many enemies abounded. Finally came the day that the city was attacked, by an army of dark elves and their evil allies.” She paused, and wiped a ghostly tear from her eye, then continued. “Underdark dwellers all. They overran the city, killing all in their sight. We seven girls hid, but we fought at the end. To no effect. The drow–curse them!--slaughtered us cruelly.” Strife listened raptly to the girl’s tale of woe.
She continued. “We stayed on, even after the drow left, for we could not rest. Then, about eight or so years ago, the city was freed once again, cleared of all monsters, by the mighty paladin Edward and his companions. Once the city was cleared, three of us finally found rest. The other four chose to remain here, and watch over the house and the city.
“Most of our girls are as alive as you are,” Suzanne went on. “We four ghosts greet the guests. We also protect the house.”
Strife’s roguish heart was touched. “Is there anything I can do to help you?” he asked.
Suzanne smiled appreciatively. “If I were still solid, I’d say buy me a drink. But all I ask is that you enjoy your time here.” She blew a kiss at the rogue, and with that, disappeared again.
Strife left a tip for the bartender, then hurried from the establishment to return to the Meteor and Stars, where he woke Kronk and Balefire and told them about the House. “This I’ve got to see!” said Balefire.
All three went back to the House, where the merrymaking had continued unabated. Strife made discrete inquiries, and learned that the going rate for girls was 50 gold pieces an hour.
Balefire asked the bartender if anyone suspicious was in the House. “We let no riff-raff in, nor do our spiritual protectors,” he replied, somewhat offended. Pointing at Kronk, he added, “Your orkish friend is on the borderline!”
“Kronk not stay where he’s not wanted,” said the half-orc sadly. He turned around and left. “Can’t let him go back alone like that, now can we?” suggested Balefire. Strife reluctantly agreed, and the three adventurers all returned to the Meteor and Stars.
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