Vajra is, at first, taken aback by Myth'sconfession. She runs through the questions he heard before when he revealed himself to his partners. "How do I know you are Morph? What other secrets have you been holding onto?"
Mythanswers them patiently, proving himself all over again. It seems easier this time, perhaps because Vajra always maintained a degree of distrust in...well everyone. Or perhaps she saw the value in having a changeling among her charges. The gears are definitely turning as she processes this new information.
She moves relatively quickly onto the matter at hand. "This is the one that allowed us entry into the vault?" Upon hearing the affirmative she muses for a moment, then continues. "You must have been able to extract that information somehow. Hmmm...."
Mythexplains how Golorr'smagic appears to work, all the while the magic being is chattering in his head.
"Yes, I have someone in mind. An agent of Force Grey. She spends a good deal of time in the field. Baldur's Gate, Neverwinter....she ranges far and wide. It might be mutually beneficial."
Golorrchimes in, saying, "Hmmm, yes, that feels like the correct path."
And within a few days, Golorris gone from Myth'smind...
Titus eagerly pays his dues to restore the manor to its former glory. He is convinced by the earnest man’s pleas to take a chance on Floon, and he also employs their new friends Zaku and Elezu as security. He is happy to learn that Mal will be staying to manage the tavern and grow it into a thriving business. He made sure to remind his friends to reach out to the spirit that still haunted the manor. He wondered if the old soul would now rest easy, or liven up and join the fun.
While Mal focused on the tavern, Titus takes a significant portion of his newfound wealth to make some major improvements to the humble clinic they started just a few short months ago. He focuses on a mobile contingent of healers, complete with a carriage, a wagon, and several horses.
The carriage and riding horse is nimble vehicle that will be on call for emergencies, equipped with a small team, the carriage will dart around town in case of sudden need for medical aid, like the explosion in Trollskull Alley. The wagon and draft horse is a lumbering clinic on wheels, it has a larger team and has room to perform simple procedures, the wagon plods along to different areas of the city providing services where most in need.
With these pieces in places Titus seeks out the consul of his old friend Jalester Silvermane. He shares a drink and catches up on the whole saga of the heist and their good fortune. He then tells his friend of the mobile clinic and asks if he knows any talented healers who are looking for work.
The Yawning Portal suffers under the heatwave as much as any other establishment. Durnan has rigged up some kind of fan over the portal to draw cool air up from Undermountain, making the tavern a few degrees cooler than almost anywhere else. Thus, it is extremely crowded in the tavern as the mercenary group known as The Blackblades gathers at a too-small table in the back corner. A team of Durnan's porters delivered the crate into the portal yesterday. Today, The Blackblades will join it and begin the first of a very lucrative job. It is more than a job, really. It will take months or even years to complete. And it is something no one has ever done before. Some in the group have expressed reservations that they can even do it at all. They loss of Ivair still stings.
But they were paid well up front, with promises of more and any treasure they can carry. So they will see how far into Undermountain they can protect the stranger who hired them. Krennic assures them that they need not hurry. They need only make progress. And when they can go no further, he will find others who can. For now, it is the Blackblades who have his coin...
(Make an introductory post with your Team 2 characters now. I'll bring along Krennic last.)
Kaltentglances up momentarily at Shiftas the changeling approaches the table, then looks back down to where he's cleaning his fingernails with his dagger. Besides the dagger, he has a rapier hanging at one hip. Other than those, there's little notable about him. His clothes look just like those of almost anyone else in the Yawning Portal, with nothing to make him stand out. Similarly, he has a completely average and boring face, with nothing distinctive about it. All in all, the man is entirely forgettable, exactly as he intends.
He shrugs in response to the other's question. "Should be here any time now. Dunno about the heat, but I'm certainly looking forward to finding more treasure down there."
"Dunno. Don't care. S'long as I get another whack at the chums what stole me boots last time we was down there, that'll be 'nough." The figure across the table is an opposing counterpart in nearly every way. A swarthy greenskinned half-orc with cracked tusks and a patchy, hairy face, he is heavily built and sturdy for his breed, a feature that is accentuated by the splint armor he wears and the large, obvious warhammer he keeps at his knee. The sign of an eye, made out in red scratches, adorns the handle of the hammer, as well as a few points on his armor. Most this he keeps out of the way beneath a cloak of fine elven make - an obvious purchase from his previous exploits. Gruumsh is not a popular god among most civilized folk.
As far as his boots are concerned, he lost them during the last night we spent in the Undermountain. He blames little blue men with sharp teeth and pointed hats who stole his things in his sleep. It is much more likely that he forgot where he threw them as he set up camp. A social troglodyte with less than the average brain cell distribution among half-orcs, he is nonetheless a proven asset to the team as a ferocious companion in battle and a loyal, if simple, comrade. His loyalty to the war god Gruumsh certainly suffices to provide him with powerful abilities, and who are any onlookers to doubt such a... pure... faith.