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 # Umbral Gaze 8: The Deathkiss
 
-In Waterdeep, Almuth, Cleric of Eldath, seeks out the Unblinking Patrol, going corner to corner, store to store, asking around until he finds his answer. The joke Gottlob played earlier is hot in his mind, and he intends to ensure that the Paladin is disciplined for his indiscretion--- _nobody_ impersonates _Eldath_ and gets away unpunished! At last, Almuth finds what he's looking for: the Unblinking Patrol have their base in the lower Trades Quarter, nestled above a lovely little potions shop. Their sigil emblazons the back door, an eye and morningstar.
+Having returned at mid-afternoon to Waterdeep, Almuth, Cleric of Eldath, seeks out the Unblinking Patrol, going corner to corner, store to store, asking around until he finds his answer. The joke Gottlob played earlier is hot in his mind, and he intends to ensure that the Paladin is disciplined for his indiscretion--- _nobody_ impersonates _Eldath_ and gets away unpunished! At last, Almuth finds what he's looking for: the Unblinking Patrol have their base in the lower Trades Quarter, nestled above a lovely little potions shop. Their sigil emblazons the back door, an eye and morningstar.
 
 Having located the door in question--- a sturdy, well-painted affair--- the Cleric knocks and is greeted by a yellow eye that peeps through a sliding port well below his own eye-level. Another such port lies a foot or two upward, but that one remains steadfastly shut. A gruff and slurring voice demands to know the Cleric's business, and on receiving a suitable answer regarding a member of the Patrol, its owner, a swaying, bright-eyed dwarf, opens the door to usher Almuth up a narrow flight of stairs and into the apartments-read-base of the Unblinking Patrol.
 
@@ -11,7 +11,7 @@ The sparsely furnished main room is clean but for some piled boots and half-full
 
 For the first time since Lord Silverhand inducted them to their beholder-beholden course, the party converse with the Xanathar. Laeral's council chamber glows with its usual array of light, and on that long, low table again rests the pearl orb from which the crime lord's voice now issues. The next beholder Laeral wishes them to subdue set it's sights near Waterdeep--- very near, indeed, so that the Xanathar could not help but to have taken notice. He explains this now from his little floating avatar as it rises above the table, a conduit and tiny image of the beholder's own vastly more intimidating presence.
 
-The target is a Deathkiss, a lesser beholderkin, but a dangerous one all the same. Deathkisses are flesh-made realizations of beholders' nightmares, of bleeding out and a bloodless death. The creatures take on characteristics vampires, as often so inspired, and the drain the blood from their victims as in the dreams from which they sprang. An image, projected from the Xanathar's *avatar*, of a rat's corpse shriveled and twisted in unnatural rigor-mortis, makes a fine example of what Deathkiss victims can expect. The party must be on the lookout for any so-afflicted creatures as they track their prey.
+The target is a Deathkiss, a lesser beholderkin, but a dangerous one all the same. Deathkisses are flesh-made realizations of beholders' nightmares, of bleeding out and a bloodless death. The creatures take on characteristics vampires, as often so inspired, and the drain the blood from their victims as in the dreams from which they sprang. An image, projected from the Xanathar's incarnation, of a rat's corpse shriveled and twisted in unnatural rigor-mortis, makes a fine example of what Deathkiss victims can expect. The party must be on the lookout for any so-afflicted creatures as they track their prey.
 
 Silverhand produces a map to the most recent precise location: an old castle of the Red Wizards[^wizards] nestled in the Forlorn Hills, the so-called "Bloodgate Keep". Unlike any before, today's mission has another aspect, one peculiar to the mode of its object's discovery. A team of scouts and scholars sent to the castle some weeks ago failed to return by their appointed deadline. Concerned officials of Waterdeep ordered a search party dispatched, a pair of well-respected adventures in the city's employ, but this latter group failed too. One member managed to return, who reported an ambush that saw his comrade drained of blood and left the original party--- after whom they'd both been sent--- still nowhere to be found. Under the sobering influence of stories and acutely aware that their mission may be more likely to wind up as "retrieval" and "rescue", collecting a wagon the open Lord provides and taking their pay and their bundles of provisions, the party sets off, southward, to meet the objective in two days and one night.
 
@@ -32,10 +32,13 @@ Impressed with themselves that the beholder could do so little to resist their a
 
 By the man's side, a _second_ deathkiss levitates, and by his garb, his build, and his comportment, the party can only surmise that a red wizard stands before them. As is common with their ilk, he bears the unmistakable traits of a vampire: pale skin, unblinking eyes, unnatural height and grace, and the pointed teeth that peek from behind his lips with every placating smile. Not inclined to let such creatures live, but eager for information, party members play along, trying to keep him talking. They learn that the vampire acts on orders from Szass Tam himself, chief of the Red Wizard's cult, to retrieve a tome he already seems to possess, but Almuth makes a bold gambit--- a false offer of servitude--- that betrays the party's intentions, and the Vampire attacks.
 
-The second deathkiss surges forward, walloping[^wallop] the Cleric with all its might, as though to settle a score on its master's behalf. Almuth takes it standing, but his vitality is dangerously depleted. The vampire grapples Carmal, fangs at his neck, who polymorphs himself into a Tyrannosaur to escape the undead clutches, and Gottlob's aura of protection makes returning the bard to his natural form an insurmountable prospect for the Red Wizard. Psychically reaching out to his wounded comrade, not to let their earlier spat get in teh way of a good plan, the paladin plies Almuth for his amulet of the planes. A plan has sprung into Gottlob's mind that he just can't let go. Almuth passes him the artifact, and though he tries it several times, the satyr can't seem to work it--- his plan to drop the whole scene smack into the river[^fey-river] Arran remains only a figment of hope.
+The second deathkiss surges forward, walloping[^wallop] the Cleric with all its might, as though to settle a score on its master's behalf. Almuth takes it standing, but his vitality is dangerously depleted. The vampire grapples Carmal, fangs at his neck, who polymorphs himself into a Tyrannosaur to escape the undead clutches, and Gottlob's aura of protection makes returning the bard to his natural form an insurmountable prospect for the Red Wizard. Psychically reaching out to his wounded comrade, not to let their earlier spat get in the way of a good plan, the paladin engages Almuth for his amulet of the planes. A plan has sprung into Gottlob's mind that he just can't let go. Almuth passes him the artifact, and though he tries it several times, the satyr can't seem to work the device--- his plan to drop the whole scene smack into the river[^fey-river] Arran remains a figment of hope.
+
+With overwhelming physical dominance afforded him by the dino form, Carmal turns the tables on his foe, grappling the Vampire in turn, who twists in desperate turns to no avail, punches thrown into a dinosaur's maw injuring his own hands more than they injure the beast. 
+
 
 [^wizards]: The [Red Wizards of Thay](https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Red_Wizards_of_Thay) are a cult of magocratic wizards dedicated to the arts of undeath. To extend their lives, their more powerful members turn to lichdom and vampirism, almost without exception.
 
 [^wallop]: It rolls two attacks and lands a crit on each.
 
-[^fey-river]: 
+[^fey-river]: Arran is a river in the east of Faerûn, near Gottlob's homeland. It's mirror in the feywild plane is a place the paladin knows well.

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+# Umbral Gaze 9: Few Loose Ends
+