Hex grips her arrow tighter as the man continues to not heed their warnings before shrugging. She warned them.

She nocks the arrow in her bow, even raises it up to aim at the man, before she's distracted by the sound of a halfling shouting for help. She glances over to his direction for a moment, just long enough for Auriel to cast his spell. She holds her arrow, hoping the spell succeeds.

"Leave."

"Forget you! I don't need any of this junk anyway," the man grunts, jumping from the top of the wagon to the ground with a thud and stomping off in the opposite direction of the Black Fist that is approaching, escorting an unfamiliar halfling man.

"What is going on here?" the guard asks. He speaks mainly to the merchant standing to the side. "Are you associates with this man?" he asks, pointing to the halfling. "And are these people giving you trouble?"

"I can't say I've ever met that man, sir, and no, my wagon had come under attack during the riot, but these folks were ever so kind enough to turn them away," the merchant answers with a bow.

The guard grumbles under his breath, "Like we have time for this sort of..." and walks away without even a pause, leaving the party standing with the merchant and the watchful halfling.

OOC: Each character has received 10 XP for turning away the mob.

The halfling steps forward and bows, folding himself almost entirely in half. Given his diminutive stature — even by halfling standards — he is just shy of three feet, and this motion renders him almost invisible at first glance. He is slight in build, with light skin, longish brown hair, and bright, alert brown eyes. While his overall appearance may seem slightly disheveled, his glasses remain impeccably clean, a clear indicator of his attention to certain details. His non-descript clothing, in shades of brown and dark green, does little to stand out; however, upon closer inspection, the shortbow on his back and the rapier at his side suggest more than just an average bookworm. Though he appears youthful, perhaps a very young adult by halfling standards, there is a calm confidence in his bearing.

Straightening up, Hildigrim introduces himself without hesitation. “My name is Hildigrim Goodbody.” He directs his gaze toward Hex. “You are Hex. And you are Uragum,” he continues, nodding at the wizard. “You two are well known in Phlan.” Pausing for effect, his tone shifts slightly as he adds, “Perhaps a little too well.” His smile remains affable, though there is a hint of calculated scrutiny behind his words.

Next, he turns to Carl, identifying the dwarf by name. “I do not know much more than your name. My information on you has been extremely limited.” The analytical edge in his voice suggests he is already filing away Carl’s reaction for later consideration.

Finally, Hildigrim regards Auriel. “You are a complete unknown to me. But you clearly have a history with the others.” His gaze shifts back to include all four of the adventurers, a small but deliberate gesture designed to create a sense of inclusion. “I understand you have recently lost a fifth — one Sylyra Wasanthi of Waterdeep. I also understand that you have — over the last few weeks — encountered various signs of activity from a particular cult. I, too, have an interest in curbing the influence of said cult and would like to propose an alliance. I am not suggesting that you divert all focus toward investigating the cult, as I recognize they are adept at concealing their operations. However, my hope is that, as we work together, our combined efforts and diverse interests will uncover more than I might learn on my own.”

Without missing a beat, Hildigrim continues, “Of course, I do not expect you to trust any random stranger who approaches you with such a proposal. Allow me to present my qualifications. First and foremost, I am a bibliophile — I am passionately committed to learning and knowledge acquisition. I excel at research, and I am also a linguist. At present, I can read, write, and speak eight languages besides Common. I am also proficient in thieves’ cant, which, as you may know, is less of a language and more of a coded system embedded within any language. My small stature and unremarkable appearance allow me to blend in easily, making me an excellent sneak. And, if I may be allowed a modest boast, I am quite competent with both a bow and a rapier.”

He adjusts his footing, crossing his arms over his chest with a measured confidence. “There are other skills in my repertoire, but I believe those mentioned should suffice for now to demonstrate my value to this potential alliance. So, what say you? Shall we work together?”

Hildigrim’s eyes gleam as he looks up at the group, awaiting their response, his posture exuding confidence in his proposal.

Carl takes several deep breaths, clenching his fists, and then he lets the anger that was near to boiling over release from his body.  He takes deep breaths, noting the reaction of the Black Fist, then mumbling under his breath.  He is caught off guard by the halfling, turning with surprise, then standing with hands on his hips.  As the verbose introduction gets longer and longer, he smiles and says “Hah!  So you know Sylyra, eh?  No information on me, eh?  I think that might be a good thing… I have no problem with ye joining us.  Ifn our interests are aligned.  And it seems they are.  For now.”  Carl turns to his friends and says “Whatcha say?  Seems nicer and a helluva lot easier to get along with than that uppity elf.  I’m glad we got out of tha spot of trouble without it turning violent, it easily could’ve…”

Uragum moves in front Hildigrim and looks down at him, their height difference a stark contrast.  He crouches down and then is still towering over him.  "You're right.  I'm probably too well known.  If you remain too close, some of that notoriety may rub off on you," he says with a smile.  Then his face turns a little more grim.  "But I can't say I like the talk of the cult.  I was hoping for something straight forward... Classic story, merchants in trouble, heroes bust up the brigands, get the girl.  Don't you curse this now and twist the tale to be some convoluted plot of the cult." 

Hildigrim’s arms drop to his sides, his earlier confidence shifting to something more measured. He looks as though he might step back, but the gesture seems more thoughtful than hesitant, as if he’s considering his next move rather than retreating. The shift in his demeanor is subtle — his confidence now tempered with caution rather than doubt.

Looking up at Uragum, Hildigrim speaks with controlled urgency. “If the cult is left unimpeded, there will be no more classic stories, all the merchants will face ruin, and ... there will be more damsels in distress than anyone can count.” His voice, typically composed, remains steady, though there is a hint of frustration beneath the surface. He glances briefly at Hex and Carl before fixing his gaze on the goliath, a spark of determination clear in his expression. “Are you saying you’d prefer to turn a blind eye to what’s already in front of you?” His words gain momentum, and though there’s still an edge of challenge, it’s more assertive than uncertain. “Am I so wrong in my assessment of you?”

Hildigrim pauses, visibly composing himself, his stance straightening with renewed resolve. “I’m not afraid of a little notoriety,” he declares, though the faint tremor in his voice betrays him. He lets the moment settle before adding, “What I mean to say is ... I am not afraid of associating with you.”

Hex rolls her eyes at the Black Fist and stows her bow and arrow away, thankful the situation didn't escalate even more. She places a hand on Auriel's shoulder and smiles. "Nice work. If it was just me here, this probably would've ended with a lot more blood involved," she jokes, somewhat self deprecatingly but mostly in admiration.

She jumps a bit in shock when Hildigrim suddenly appears to introduce himself. The halfling was so small and silent, she almost missed him. She listens to his introduction with curiosity and amusement, especially after her names her. "Never really thought I would be well known..." she mumbles to herself. There is a slight drop in the curl of her lips as he mentions their loss of Sylyra but its quickly replaced by a smirk. As Hildigrim lists off all his "qualifications", Hex lets out an impressed whistle. "8 languages, huh? That's pretty good. You're right about not exactly being trustworthy yet but... well we could use all the help we can get. Especially when it concerns the Cult."

Hex shakes her head at the mention of Uragum's notoriety and steps up to stand besides the goliath. "Look, all the bad things you've heard about Uragum are just false rumors. He's a good man, a little rough around the edges, sure, but then again, who isn't in this group?"

"Lissë…" Auriel mutters, relieved to see the spell kicking in and the thug stomping away. Smiling back at Hex, he says, "Come on, don't sell yourself short. That arrow would have been more than enough in another situation. But that man was too stubborn—or better said, desperate. Anyway, I'm glad the spell worked," he nods toward Carl and Uragum as well. They had all done their part in de-escalating the situation.

Now that the protests have ended and Podol Plaza is returning to normal, the Eladrin approaches Braden to ask about the job he mentioned the previous day. But before he can speak, a member of the Black Fist and a stranger enter the scene. Auriel raises his eyebrows slightly as the latter begins to speak, revealing just how well-informed he is about Hex and Uragum. His eyebrows lift even higher—and his lips purse noticeably—at the mention of Sylyra. When the Cult of the Dragon is brought up, he blinks once, then a few more times as the halfling practically recites his entire résumé. The paladin smiles and quips, "Well, that was a lot of information in a very short time!", then scratches his head, thinking he may have sounded a bit abrupt, and adds, "Erm... but where are my manners. My name is Auriel. Tyr be with you." He briefly contemplates saying more but decides that should be enough for an introduction.

Auriel nods in agreement when Hex clarifies that Uragum is a good man. Then, with a playful smirk, he jokes, "Hey, I'm not rough around the edges!" He chuckles but shifts back to a more serious mood as Hildigrim suggests working together. He tilts his head slightly, considering it, and then says, "Hmm, why not? There's always strength in numbers. Braden was just about to tell us about a job. We could see how that goes, couldn’t we?" he glances at Hex, Uragum, and Carl. "And I agree that we should look into the Cult at some point. But let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet. This issue with the caravans on the Iron Route seems pressing right now."

Standing up and shaking his head at Hildigrim, "No, I would not turn a blind-eye.  Haven't yet, but a reprieve is what I had been hoping for.  Something simple, maybe this will be, maybe not... time will tell."  Uragum paced a bit while the others progressed in their conversation.  He had been itching for a fight to relieve the frustration of not progressing in his research and his adrenalin had gotten a little high and the physical movement helped.

As Uragum relaxes, Hildigrim’s previous confidence quickly returns. He gives a small nod, more to himself than to the others. “Of course, of course. I never assumed the cult has been reckless enough to leave an obvious path behind. I plan to work with you, no matter what course of action you decide upon next. I have a strong feeling that, as time progresses, we’ll gradually piece together more of the trail. With our combined and diverse talents, I’m confident we’ll uncover whatever nefarious plot is unfolding.”

He steps back slightly, making it easier to address the entire group. Tucking his thumbs into his belt, Hildigrim offers a warm smile and nod to the elf. “Auriel,” he repeats, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Glancing around and taking a deep breath, he notes the dissipating crowd. “It seems the mob has dispersed. Shall we head back to the Laughing Goblin to get better acquainted? Also, I'd love to hear firsthand what you have heard concerning the cult.”

"The pleasure is mine, Hildigrim," Auriel replies with a smile. When the halfling suggests going back to the Laughing Goblin, the eladrin raises a hand, motioning for him to wait. "Before we do that, let’s hear what Braden has to tell us, yes?" he gestures toward the merchant standing beside them, "He summoned us here to offer a job, after all." Facing Braden Yil, Auriel continues, "There will be five of us, after all. As we were discussing, there is strength in numbers, and I trust this will serve all our best interests. Can you tell us more, please?"

"There will be five of us, after all. As we were discussing, there is strength in numbers, and I trust this will serve all our best interests. Can you tell us more, please?"

"Of course, Sir Auriel," Braden says, brushing some wrinkles out of his shirt and stepping before the party. "I was beginning to worry you would simply depart," he smiles. "Today's events have simply reinforced my need of your group's services."

"My bodyguards have deserted me, you see. You may have heard of trouble along the Iron Route. Storms have driven trade inland, and caravans must use the route to carry goods. The road is perilous, and skirts the northern coast of the Moonsea. A number of caravans now have been lost to the Gray Patriots. They're a group of highwaymen led by the disgraced Knight Sahnd Krulek."

As Braden mentions the storms along the Moonsea, Hildigrim’s thoughts briefly drift to his family in Thentia. Storms of that magnitude would surely impact their fishing business. But he hasn’t heard from them recently — no letters, no messages. It’s not unusual, of course. The tides of family life ebb and flow as they always do. Still, the uncertainty nags at him, a quiet worry tucked away in the back of his mind. He quickly pushes the thought aside; there’s little he can do from here, and this situation with Braden demands his full attention.

Refocusing, he adjusts his glasses and listens closely to Braden’s explanation.

“Ah, yes, the Iron Route,” he begins, his tone measured. “I’m familiar with the current state of affairs there. The storm-forced detours have certainly increased the dangers — both from natural and, as you say, less-than-lawful threats. The Gray Patriots, led by Sahnd Krulek, are an interesting group, and by ‘interesting,’ I of course mean problematic.” His brow furrows slightly. "Krulek’s fall from the Knights of the Black Fist is well advertised. It’s no surprise he’s gathered a band of cutthroats to his cause — or perhaps that was the reason for his separation in the first place."

Hildigrim taps a finger thoughtfully against his chin before continuing. “If they’re disrupting trade, that would explain the recent unrest in town. Merchants losing cargo, delays on goods, prices rising — all of it contributes to the growing tension. And you, without your bodyguards, would naturally be a target.” He looks at Braden, assessing. “I take it you’re asking for our assistance in ensuring safe passage along the Iron Route?”

As Braden opens his mouth to respond, Hildigrim continues after half a heartbeat: “I’m inclined to agree that the Gray Patriots need addressing, but I’d be remiss not to ask — what exactly is it you’re transporting? I assume it’s something important enough to attract their attention, yet valuable enough for you to seek our protection.”

The halfling’s eyes gleam with a mix of caution and interest as he finally pauses to await Braden’s reply.

Auriel gives a small grin as he watches Braden struggle to find a spot to respond, but fails to do so until Hildigrim exhausts his questions. Sahnd Krulek has him intrigued, and once the merchant replies to the halfling, he intervenes. "I'm afraid I've never heard of Krulek and the Gray Patriots. You say he was a knight? Do we know why he left—or was expelled—from the Black Fist? Are the Grey Patriots' numbers known?"

He’s also curious about the Iron Route itself. "What about the Iron Route? How many days does it normally take to cross it? Bandit attacks aside, of course. Any noteworthy geographical features or hazards we should know about?"

Hildigrim’s question about the contents of the wagon makes Auriel eye Braden Yil intently. The man has seemed honest from the moment they met at the temple, and the paladin wonders if he will be just as truthful in his reply. Allowing Braden enough time so he can answer all the previous questions, Auriel finally adds, "How does House Cadorna fit into all of this? I assume the goods you need to transport belong to them. Have they lost many wagons along the Iron Road? If so, I imagine that’s been a significant blow to the House’s economy."

“I’m inclined to agree that the Gray Patriots need addressing, but I’d be remiss not to ask — what exactly is it you’re transporting? I assume it’s something important enough to attract their attention, yet valuable enough for you to seek our protection.”

"Textiles, mainly," Braden answers when he finally has an opportunity, "But the contents do not matter to the Gray Patriots. As you said, I believe the unrest is their main goal."

"I'm afraid I've never heard of Krulek and the Gray Patriots. You say he was a knight? Do we know why he left—or was expelled—from the Black Fist? Are the Grey Patriots' numbers known?"

"Krulek was arrested, tried, and sentenced to hang from the Stojanow for plotting against Lord Regent Ector Brahms. He escaped, of course, along with others from the Black Fist who likely were responsible for his escape," Braden answers.

"What about the Iron Route? How many days does it normally take to cross it? Bandit attacks aside, of course. Any noteworthy geographical features or hazards we should know about?"

"I know its name suggests otherwise, but the route is little more than a hard-trodden trail. Depending on the conditions of the 'road' and what you may run into, the time it takes to traverse can vary wildly. It's typically safe, by Moonsea standards anyway, but it becomes quite the opposite when the Black Fist ignores its troubles," he says.

"How does House Cadorna fit into all of this? I assume the goods you need to transport belong to them. Have they lost many wagons along the Iron Road? If so, I imagine that’s been a significant blow to the House’s economy."

"More than one. The Lord Regent refuses to send his Black Fists to stop these bandits, and so it falls on those who have an active interest in the Route's safety to see the job done."

"The Gray Patriots are not even the only trouble along the route. House Cadorna has recently learned that a second group of outlaws has begun operating along the Iron Route: A legion of kobolds headed by an insane dragonborn who routinely sacrifices her victims to dark gods.

A bloody feud has erupted between the two outlaws. Most merchants are thankful for the dispute, as it has led to more caravans passing safely through the Iron Route, but eventually, one of the groups will prevail."

Auriel nods at Braden's replies. When the merchant mentions the second group of outlaws, he lets out a soft sigh and glances at Uragum with a hint of a smile. "So much for your dream of a straightforward job," he says, but he's quick to look back at Braden to clarify, "That doesn't mean I'm not willing to do this. That second group of outlaws adds complexity, but ... we've been there before, haven't we?" he adds towards Hex, Carl and Uragum, recalling when they dealt with the three tribes at the Isle of the Lizard King.

"I don't like the fact that the Lord Protector has refused to send any Black Fist to stop this. I wonder what is the reason behind it. Is he perhaps worried that more of his knights will end up joining the Gray Patriots?"

The paladin lets this thought hang in the air before turning to the companions and asking, "Anyway, what do you think?"

Hex smiles and nods. "Took the words right out of my mouth. All the questions I had have been answered. Except... well, you wouldn't happen to know why the Lord Regent refuses to send the Black Fist, do you? I doubt anyone really knows but any rumors or the like floating about? It's pretty suspicious."

Carl strokes his beard and then tucks his thumbs into his belt, considering Hildigrim, saying “Pleased ta meetcha, I’d be glad to have you with us.”  He grins at the halfling and walks with the others to the Laughing Goblin, glad to discuss their next steps.  

When Braden starts to speak and describes the difficulties of the Iron Route, his ears perk up when he hears about the crew attacking the caravans.  “These Gray Patriots, do you know anything more about them, where the come from, what they’re after?  Besides the obvious, of course.  And particularly Sahnd Krulek… has anyone gotten away from them, anyone who knows more about them?”

Hildigrim stands with one arm folded across his chest, the other propped vertically, index finger rhythmically tapping his chin. Despite his propensity for jabbering once he gets going, the halfling seems unbothered by silence. At the mention of kobolds and an “insane dragonborn”, the Harper nods to himself, mentally noting possible ties to the Cult of the Dragon. He glances at Auriel when the elf mentions prior experience with multiple outlaws, adding a mental note to inquire about that later when the moment is right.

Once Braden finishes answering the others' questions, Hildigrim finally speaks up again, shifting to a more forward posture. "Are there areas of the Iron Route where the two groups are more commonly found?"

After Braden's response, Hildigrim continues, now addressing the group more than Braden. "We should make inquiries with the Black Fists before we leave Phlan. We have several questions for them, including my own: For what crimes was Krulek tried? The answer might help in capturing him." He taps his chin once more. "As for this rivalry between the outlaws ... I wonder, is it ideological or purely territorial?" he muses, almost to himself. "One might think they’d band together in some nefarious alliance if their goals aligned. But perhaps not. Even among brigands, pride must be accounted for."

"Well, you wouldn't happen to know why the Lord Regent refuses to send the Black Fist, do you"

"It's all just rumor at this point ma'am, but suppose you had a group of employees run off in support of another employee. If your best solution was to send more employees off in search of them, what's to say they wouldn't just join forces?" Braden speculates.

 “These Gray Patriots, do you know anything more about them, where the come from, what they’re after?  Besides the obvious, of course.  And particularly Sahnd Krulek… has anyone gotten away from them, anyone who knows more about them?”

"Recently, a merchant owned by House Sokol was ambushed. They were ready for the attack on this occasion, and drove off the bandits, but not before capturing one. The bandit was sold to the Grimshackle Brothers, a pair of ne'er-do-wells who run a prison a ways up river. Outlaws sold to the Grimshackles are typically ransomed off to anyone who will pay--be it those who serve the law or those who operate outside it. I'd suggest speaking to the fellow. He is likely the best lead to Krulek and may have information about the dragonborn sorcerer as well," Braden answers. He scratches his chin as he ruminates further. "Our information on her is rather sparse. She is said to draw her power from Tiamat, the god of chromatic dragons, but what is fact and what is fiction still eludes us."

"Are there areas of the Iron Route where the two groups are more commonly found?"

"Not particularly. They'd be rather terrible bandits if they were predictable, no?" Braden says, seeming somewhat annoyed.