The Morning of the Three Bottles
The bells of the Waterdeep Trading Company’s counting house chimed the eighth hour as Greta Ironfist strode into the pricing hall. Ledger-keepers were already at their desks, quills scratching in neat columns while the scent of parchment, ink, and faintly sweet syrup filled the air. On the great oak table in the center of the room sat three glass bottles, each gleaming under the morning light—one plain but sturdy, one etched with seasonal motifs, and one crowned w...
Published on August 15, 2025 06:00