"He dropped it? It's not that hard to explain. You are overthinking things. And yes. It's gibberish. Not last words."

"Maybe so, but still, it must have been important to him if he kept it in the same place as his money."

Yagra Stonefist the Half-Orc grins at you all. "You're a good team, pretty effective in a fight. Glad ya came in to the fight on my side. Come find me here at the tavern in a day or two, I might have work for ya's. Right now though, I'm going to bandage these wounds in my room. Take care you lot!" With that, Yagra heads for the stairs up to where the inn rooms are.

Uuuuh. Did he see Aran get it out of the purse. Because Aran would have been tried to be subtle about the pouch. The paper? Sure. He doesn't care if people saw that.

"What are you talking about? The same place he had as his money? I think you been hitting the sauce a bit too much." Aran shakes his head as he stuffs the paper into his pocket.

The professor looks at Aran dubiously. “A lynching? Hmmm that’s one way to see it I suppose. I rather feel like we have seen the second part of a conversation and don’t even know the parties involved.”

"They were beating on her." Aran stares blankly. "I honestly could care less about the first half. They were beating on her four to one." His shoulders shrug.

Before Yagra can ascend the stairs, Creach blocks her way, faster than you would think he could move.

"I did not take your side murderer. I simply prevented an injustice against you. You still need to explain how you murdered someone and why these guys were after you. So you should go and think of a good lie while you dream."

Creach growls, before he steps aside and allows her to pass. Before she reaches the top of the stairs, he calls up;

"And if you even think about running, think again. A good hunter will track his quarry for a hundred miles or more. A great one will track for no more than a day. Because by then their prey is already caught."

Yagra gives a smirk to Creach. "It would be unwise to hunt a predator without knowing who else is in her pack," she replies, before disappearing out of sight.

"I don't think that threatening someone in a city you just got in is exactly the wisest idea." Says Aran, pinching the bridge of his nose. "subtlety will do you well in the urban sprawl." This is all uttered to Creach quietly, as he glances to Yagra. Giving her a little wave. "Yeah, my friend just had a bit too much to drink."

The professor approaches the tied and sleeping thugs and will look for one who is smaller, weaker, or younger and nudge that one awake with his boot.

”Wake up punk! It looks like you and your pals came into the wrong place at the wrong time.” He speaks with the soldier’s gruffness. “Lucky for you Durnan doesn’t take kindly to spilling blood on his floor. Tell us what this was all about and you and your friends can walk out of here breathing.”

Babyface Bennie is shaken to alertness by the professor's boot. "Uh? What? Oh, what happened? Uh, that half-orc killed some of our compatri, compatri, uh, our friends. Xanathar Guild don't take kindly to that, or to Zhents taking what's ours, and they've been doin' both. So we came to settle the score with the half-orc. So there, I told you everything. Now let us go," he says.

"Okay, boys and girls, I'll give you a rundown of who those two are if you sit at this table with me." Says Aran as he rubs at the back of his head. As he claims a seat at the table he wishes to discuss things with the others. 

“Not so fast kid, I still have questions. Xanathar’s guild? Huh never heard of it. What kind of guild does this Xanathar run? And who are Zhent’s?”

"Not from around here, I guess. Fine, Xanathar's Guild deals in all the things the Masked Lords don't want you getting your hands on. It's illegal yeah, but somebody's going to do it so might as well be us. The Zhents on the other hand, they claim ta be a mercenary guild but they're really just a bunch a thieves and killers. Ask your friend, he'll tell you the same I'm sure. Is your curiosity satisfied already?", Bennie asks.

"We got what we wanted. While I don't enjoy the thought of these people running around, we should just let these people go. C'mere and I'll tell you what I know."

Olaerys gives Zimm a big bear hug back.  “We did it!  Got lucky there more like it.  Well, just glad we were able to do it.  Thanks for your help my friend.  Glad to have you with me there.”  He turns to Durnan and nods.  “Glad to help.  Can I have another in my usual mug?   Thanks Durnan.  If everything else fails, maybe I can help you out with security around here.”  He turns and says “That would be a dangerous job, with this crowd and that shaft.”  

He sits down with Aran and invites everyone else over to our private table, “Thanks Professor.  Your words of wisdom gave me the nerve to do the deed.”  He turns to Aran.  “Whatcha got there?  I’ve got to remember to keep my hand on my back pocket around you, but your skills could be mighty handy, Mr. Slick Fingers.”  He shoots you a grin and takes a big drink, glad to be here and alive!

"Why is everyone accusing me of taking coin pouches and having slick fingers! Gasp!" Aran gasps, actually saying the word. He puts his hand to his chest. "I am highly offended. Good sir. Highly offended! I am one of the most law-abiding law-abiders to ever law-abide."

Durnan sends a round the way of your table, on the house.

Olaerys does a double take, and says “Ohh-okay.  My mistake.  Could have sworn…”. Like he is doubting himself.  “Anyway.  What do you all think of this Zhent / Xanathar thing?  I feel like we stepped into a turf battle.  2 sides of a rotten coin really.  I wouldn’t go putting faith in either of them.”