[Other] Halforums Heist

Charity

Charity looks at the slate for a moment, scratching her head with a puzzled expression. "I...guess mr. Erythro's plan on making this a tavern is what the ghost wants too? Maybe the ghost was the previous owner? I don't really know if we can trust this as truth, though..."
 
The wizard scoops up the items and drops four silver in the merchants hands. As I said I must away, then with a nod moves on to the warehouse. The name is Stich, perhaps tomorrow we will meet again.

As the warehouse draws near, I find a place to hide and use my new familiar Mr Bubbles the owl to scout ahead.
 
The wizard manages to outpace the vendor who follows him for a ways. By the time he reaches the edge of the South Ward Erythro is alone again. This makes him perfect prey for the beggar who steps out in front of him. "Alms?" the man says. He is on the other side of middle-aged, dressed in what could only be charitably called rags, with a sickly countenance on his face.

Meanwhile, at the manor, night has fallen and the springtime crickets are singing their evening songs. The house has been cataloged and some of the trash swept into piles. Only the cellar remains unexplored and the tally of serviceable furniture is paltry: One upholstered reading chair (in need of mending), a bed frame, a bar stool, and nightstand missing two legs.

Tomorrow promises to be a full day of cleaning followed by an inspection from one of the guild carpenters...
 
"Jacob! You're alive! Quickly, take father, before the drow see us. They're hunting us!" and extends the urn towards the beggar, "You're not Jacob! Thief! Thief!" and runs away and hides once again in the shadows.
 
As night falls on the manor, Ran takes count of what he's heard about ghosts.

[I guess a religion check? 16]

Ran debates leaving to deal with this in the morning. He takes a moment to light a candle and sprinkle a circle of whatever he can around him.

"So whudda think guys? Don't suppose onna your gods could sweep this up nice n' quick huh?" Ran gestures to Marten and Charity vaguely. "Be a shame to let a hive of scum and villainy like this go to waste 'cause some jag won't go into the light"
 
Marten thinks for a moment.
"Hard to fight what I can't see. I could call upon Lathander to force the ghost to leave this place, but that would be temporary, at best. All I'd really do is risk angering it. And that's if it's even around when I try. We're already doin' what it seems to want. The poor soul hasn't caused us any real harm, when it had ample opportunity to attack most of us when we've been alone. I'm loathe to bring hostility to a creature that simply is trying to make its intentions known. Why not let things be?"
 
"easy for you to say. I seen this play before and it ain't the humies who go first. Ol' spooky is gonna up the ante before you know it. I'm just sayin' If givin' a goat to lavender helps I know a sheaperd that'll give us a deal."
 
"Jacob! You're alive! Quickly, take father, before the drow see us. They're hunting us!" and extends the urn towards the beggar, "You're not Jacob! Thief! Thief!" and runs away and hides once again in the shadows.
The beggar takes a frustrated swipe at Erythro as he runs away but misses completely. When the man looks up again, Erythro is nowhere in sight. He does not need to walk much further to reach Candle Lane and finds himself standing outside the familiar gates of the warehouse where he helped rescue Renaer just one day earlier...

As night falls on the manor, Ran takes count of what he's heard about ghosts.

[I guess a religion check? 16]

Ran debates leaving to deal with this in the morning. He takes a moment to light a candle and sprinkle a circle of whatever he can around him.

"So whudda think guys? Don't suppose onna your gods could sweep this up nice n' quick huh?" Ran gestures to Marten and Charity vaguely. "Be a shame to let a hive of scum and villainy like this go to waste 'cause some jag won't go into the light"
Ran knows that the spirit has chosen not to move on for some reason. Sometimes resolving that reason will convince the spirit to move on but other times, the spirit stubbornly wishes to stay with no possible resolution.
 
"maybe we can talk to it. Y know? Ask it what it wants or something."
 
I hide myself near the warehouse and use my owl to scout ahead. Looking for any signs that I may not be ... alone.
 
"anyone seen the wizard? Gotta funny feelin' about him all of a suddens"
 
I hide myself near the warehouse and use my owl to scout ahead. Looking for any signs that I may not be ... alone.
Plenty of footprints indicate people have been here but all of the tracks are clearly old. By all the signs, Erythro appears to be here alone.
 
It all looks familiar, but also different. The city watch have trampled over everything. Crates and piles of old sandals have been upturned, precariously re-stacked, knocked over again, creating a completely destroyed crime scene. As the wizard steps through the maze of junk, a tower of crates resting against a wall tumbles down, crashing against a support beam, which snaps. The balcony overlooking the warehouse floors partially collapses, sending wooden mannequins, crates, and other junk down on top of Erythro. With only a fraction of a second to spare, the wizard dives out of the way, avoiding any harm. Dusting himself off, he makes his way back to the secret room where he finds the spoils untouched by the city watch or any returning gang members.
 
I gather my wits about me, quickly remove the paintings from their frames and hide them on my person. Then wrap the silver in what cloth is available and fill my sack with it. I use my familiar to scout ahead and slunk away from the warehouse. I will continuously hide in the shadows and use my owl to scout ahead. Taking every precaution to avoid detection, regardless of the time it takes for me to return to the manor.
 
Erythro arrives back at the manor as others are preparing for bed. The first day of home ownership has been....interesting.
 
I check the slate and chalk, then with a nod, excuse myself and find a nice place to rest. With the slate I write, "What about a tavern that specializes in mead and ale? No hard liquor? Or lots of music?"

And I direct the owl to a perch where it can survey the surroundings.
 
Erythro and the others to find the slate unchanged over the night. It is a chilly spring morning, not yet shaken off winter. As breakfast begins to wrap up and various members of the party begin to consider where they will start on cleaning the manor, when a knock resounds on the door. When Marten answers it, he finds a woman dressed in full plate standing at attention.

"Greetings," she says in a clipped and formal speech. "I am Savra Belabranta of the Order of the Gauntlet. Word of your deeds have reached our ears and we have taken special interest in Marten and Charity as potential crusaders against evil. Are you Marten?"
 
"Sign on the door says No Soliciting. I do not want a copy of the watchtower. I got a subscription.".

Marten says "Yeh...that's me," with a puzzled look on his face. After a moment he goes "I dunno what ya heard, but come in. We're a bit busy, but I can spare a minute"
 
The wizard looks up and smiles that Marten and Charity will have something to do today. He tidies up his breakfast. Stows his gear in a safe place and grabs his sack of silver, "Brad, help me will you, I require your silver tongue today. Ty, do you think you could see about getting the fireplaces up and running? It will be cheaper to burn our garbage than to cart it away. Ran, bold and beautiful Ran, you have the greatest of all jobs, stay here, clean up the manor and when the Builders guild drops by, get the best quote possible for repairing the manor."

Then, he grabs the slate erases it and writes, "What is your name?"

"Come Brad, come Mr Bubbles. "
 
Brad shrugs "I've got no real plans today," and follows Erythro.
 
Excellent, we're off to find a money lender! The repairs won't be cheap!
 
The knight enters, looking around with a grim expression but says nothing. When offered a chair, she says, "Thank you, I'll stand. This armor is...restrictive."

She gets to the point quickly, "I represent the temple of Tyr in a loose faction of like-minded individuals with the goal of seeking out and squashing the evil influences in and around Waterdeep. We are not the only group with such goals but our methods are holy and honor-bound by our connection to the gods. Lord Neverember...the younger one, not his father the traitor...has publicly praised your rescue of him and the two of you might be a good fit for our organization. Ours will probably not be the only such invitation, but we hope our prompt appearance will give us extra consideration. If you feel our goals align with yours, we will arrange a short swearing in ceremony and I will present you with your first task. If you have any questions, I will do my best to answer them but I am primarily here to present our offer before others can do so as well."
 
Last edited:
The wizard and bard end up at a pawn shop of sorts, asking for any contacts that might provide moneylending. The shopkeeper, a seedy looking fellow with a lazy eye, nods. "If you can't convince a noble for coin, there's always Istrid Horn. Find her in the Dock Ward."

The pawnbroker provides his directions, leading the pair to a heavily guarded warehouse without earshot of the hubbub of the docks. The beefy looking guard at the door has a Zhentarim tattoo on his bicep. "What's your business?" he says.
 
The knight enters, looking around with a grim expression but says nothing. When offered a chair, she says, "Thank you, I'll stand. This armor is...restrictive."

She gets to the point quickly, "I represent the temple of Tyr in a loose faction of like-minded individuals with the goal of seeking out and squashing the evil influences in and around Waterdeep. We are not the only group with such goals but our methods are holy and honor-bound by our connection to the gods. Lord Neverember...the younger one, not his father the traitor...has publicly praised your rescue of him and the two of you might be a good fit for our organization. Ours will probably not be the only such invitation, but we hope our prompt appearance will give us extra consideration. If you feel our goals align with yours, we will arrange a short sweating in ceremony and I will present you with your first task. If you have any questions, I will do my best to answer them but I am primarily here to present our offer before others can do so as well."

"Huh, sweat in, sweat out. Don't wanna know that works." Ran mutters to himself.

Remaining as far from the crusader as possible Ran points a few fingers to Marten and Charity

"Maybe these goody goods might be interested in knowing about the sewer people from the other night. Also would like to take a moment to reminds yous twos that I never did nothin' to nobody that wasn't tryin' to do something similar or worse to me first."

[Ran casts Message to talk to Merten and Charity. They can respond in a way that only I can hear if they want]
 
Charity

Charity shoots Ran a funny look at the sudden message in her head. <"You know, people might be less suspicious of you if you didn't explicitly deny doing very specific things."> That said, she turns back to Savra. "Um - what exactly does the Order...do? Seeking and squashing evil's a bit general. Forgive me, I'm not very versed in the organizations around the world. I'm just wondering why you think we'd be a good fit, is all."
 
Brad looks at the guard and smiles, "We are looking for assistance in a business venture. We heard that someone here may be able to help." (Persuasion if necessary 17)
 
Marten nods at Charity.
"Goals an stuff are all well and good. I'm more wantin to know what kind of tasks you have in mind. My Gran always said that if'n you wanna know a man, you look at what does, not what he says. Lathander has put me on this path for a reason, so I'll hear you out. So, what is it exactly that you do? And what is it you expect us to do."
 
Charity

Charity shoots Ran a funny look at the sudden message in her head. <"You know, people might be less suspicious of you if you didn't explicitly deny doing very specific things."> That said, she turns back to Savra. "Um - what exactly does the Order...do? Seeking and squashing evil's a bit general. Forgive me, I'm not very versed in the organizations around the world. I'm just wondering why you think we'd be a good fit, is all."
Marten nods at Charity.
"Goals an stuff are all well and good. I'm more wantin to know what kind of tasks you have in mind. My Gran always said that if'n you wanna know a man, you look at what does, not what he says. Lathander has put me on this path for a reason, so I'll hear you out. So, what is it exactly that you do? And what is it you expect us to do."
The knight nods. "Those are excellent questions," she says. "Lately we have been dealing with the Zhentarim gang. But we also have tracked down a serial murderer and broken up a band of drug peddlers. Our goals are noble, I assure you. The preferred methods of Tyr and Helm are perhaps a bit more militant than those followers of the other gods. I urge you to consider my offer, even as you no doubt receive others."

Brad looks at the guard and smiles, "We are looking for assistance in a business venture. We heard that someone here may be able to help." (Persuasion if necessary 17)
The guard grunts. "How much of a loan do you need?"
 
Marten considers the knights words. "T'be honest, I don't know why Lathander chose me. I'm a practical man, and have no issue using my mace to solve a problem. And I've seen that the poor folk of this city struggle more with temptation and crime more than those of better means. I don't have much time for high falutin' philosophies. Sounds like your group feels much the same way. It got a name? Wouldn't mind havin' your name either, seein' how you seem to know us right proper.

And 'sides all that, your group legal? Official? If you're takin' up arms against evildoers, that's all well and good. But I ain't goin' be doin' nobody any good from behind the bars of a gaol cell."
 
Brad replies to the guard, "Enough to get a local public house and inn in working order."
 
Marten considers the knights words. "T'be honest, I don't know why Lathander chose me. I'm a practical man, and have no issue using my mace to solve a problem. And I've seen that the poor folk of this city struggle more with temptation and crime more than those of better means. I don't have much time for high falutin' philosophies. Sounds like your group feels much the same way. It got a name? Wouldn't mind havin' your name either, seein' how you seem to know us right proper.

And 'sides all that, your group legal? Official? If you're takin' up arms against evildoers, that's all well and good. But I ain't goin' be doin' nobody any good from behind the bars of a gaol cell."
"We are the Order of the Gauntlet," the knight says. "And I am Savra Belabranta."

She gives a slight bow, causing her armor to clank a little. "Yes, we are a sanctioned organization within Waterdeep and many other cities. The temples and the city have worked out details that allow us to work within the law. I am pleased to hear you are interested. We can swear you in to the Order on the morrow. Come to Halls of Justice in the Temple of Tyr. It is west of the market in the Castle Ward. Thank you for your time."

And with that, Savra Belabranta bids farewell and departs the manor.

The guard looks over to another man, who also looks to be a guard, for guidance. The other man nods and they open the door, ushering the wizard and bard into the warehouse.

On the fare side of the room is a desk with an extra short female dwarf sitting behind it. Her chair is raised almost to the point that she is sitting higher than the desk itself. Several thugs and bodyguards stand nearby and even more patrol the catwalks and periphery of the warehouse. The dwarf looks up from her ledger and offers a polite smile.
"Greetings. How can I help you today?" she says, cutting right to the point.
 
Marten looks at Charity for a long moment after the knight has left.
"I don't know how you feel 'bout it, but I'm thinkin' on joinin'. I've not been part of somethin' bigger'n myself since I left my village up north. Be nice to be part of somethin' meaningful again. An' this feels more meaningful than...running a bar." He sweeps his arms wide to indicate his new home.

Unless something comes up to prevent it, I'll head down to the temple in the morning and swear myself in.
 
Top