John waking up from a mysteriously long slumber comes up and says: howdy fellows what did I miss? Followed by a confused look and the scratching of his head.

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Kelten leads the way through the Outer City, turning left, then right, back around then left and right again. Gramdal remembers the directions well enough, but you get the impression that someone is tailing you both, and Kelten doesn't want to let whomever it is know. A minute later, Kelten is lifting away a rumpled curtain. He steps inside the Giggling Banshee.

The scene before you is troubling. Sure, the taproom is located in the Outer City, but it looks as though it belongs elsewhere. Ten feet of stones is all the room you have before a wide staircase descends into the earth. Dim torches light the interior. Men and women are seated around the room, most of the patrons in various states of intoxication. Kelten waves to the tap keep, a black dragonborn. "gKnoxx," Kelten says. The "g" is silent, he explains. "Unless you want to test your reflexes against his sputum. He can melt flesh with a wad of phlegm—It's disgusting."

"Two," Kelten gestures, waving an equal number of fingers.

"Comin' righ' tup," gKnoxx says.

Being followed while traipsing through the underbelly of the seedy Outer City. Delving into an underground tavern, separated from the world by only a few feet of dirt and a ratty, rumpled curtain. Gramdal has spent his time amongst what society would deem "undesirables" and the environments those labeled as such would be found. This, however, was on a different level entirely. The Dwarf will find his way to a seat where he can have his back to a wall and wait for his host to join him. "So, let's start off by discussin' who might've been followin' us, eh?" 

Hearing the voice of the sword in his head Arutha tries to "think" its direction. "Where is it you are from and what do I need to know about you? Do I call you sword or something else?" Questions flood his head as he realizes that this "sword" seems to be talking to him and the foreignness of it catches him off guard. 

Quote from Davidmoverm2 >>

John waking up from a mysteriously long slumber comes up and says: howdy fellows what did I miss? Followed by a confused look and the scratching of his head.

Welcome back John Cooper.

Hearing the voice of the sword in his head Arutha tries to "think" its direction. "Where is it you are from and what do I need to know about you? Do I call you sword or something else?" Questions flood his head as he realizes that this "sword" seems to be talking to him and the foreignness of it catches him off guard. 

As Gramdal slides into his seat, and Kelten takes his, a bearded man with a deep cowl drawn over his face appears at the edge of the table.

"Monduu," Kelten says, introducing you to an associate. "I've been followed the moment I made my way over the Chionthar at the crossing. (He's referring to Wyrm's Crossing, the bridge that spans the River Chionthar, on the city's east side.) "My guess is that it's one of Cenareon's crew, the Cloak."

"Aye," Monduu adds. "Shall we take him out?"

"Not sure. What do you think, dwarf?"

Does Gramdal know anything about The Cloak? Has he heard of them? It may make sense since he has such a thematically  appropriate background.

"Warrior," the blade answers Arutha, "the body I inhabit now was not the body I once knew. Time, warrior. Time is what I need. Take me with you into battle. You won't regret it."

Indeed Gramdal is familiar with the Cloak, a band of thieves operating in the underworld of Baldur's Gate. Though the Guild is recognized as the largest group, rogues, ruffians, cutthroats, and assassins band and disband as quickly as the winds change direction. That makes it difficult to arrest any single figurehead and bring the minions under that person's boot to justice. Like rats, they are one big group. And like rats they turn on each other. Some break off, like the Cloak.

The patriar Cenareon Bressh is rumored to be their leader. His involvement, though, is here-say, and no one has confirmed his membership. Accusing a patriar of illicit activities is a risky venture. If you are wrong, you'll lose more than the finger you pointed.

Gramdal crosses his arms on the table and leans forward. "Under normal circumstances, aye. This time, I'm thinkin' maybe we catch the li'l welp. If a patriar be aimin' for us, we best be findin' out why"

Placing one of his swords in a holster on his back, Arutha takes "warrior" and straps it on his left hip to better be able to draw with a cross draw when he draws his swords in a dual sword stance. Looking back at the group he says, "I believe I am ready now." 

Monduu eyes Gramdal with a strange curiosity. "So what do you propose?"

With a start Symaliea climbs the stairs toward the deck.

"Keep yer eyes open, AH-ROO-THUH," Skorbor says through thick tusks. "Especially on her. She is as beautiful as the sea and treacherous as the ice."

Symaliea stops midstep. "Don't spoil all the fun, Skor. Let the dwarf's champion discover for himself." The high elf bellows with laughter and disappears upstairs, followed by the half-orc.

Skorbor snorts, clapping you on the shoulder. "After you, friend."

"Don't get killed," Arutha hears Blundr grumble.

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Monduu eyes Gramdal with a strange curiosity. "So what do you propose?"

Gramdal gives a grin. “Easy. We set us a trap. He wants to tail us. So I says we let’em. One of us can act as bait. Lure’em to an area we know. Meanwhile, whoever of us is left will be at the spot. We hide. We wait. Once he’s in the trap, we spring on’em! Then all we do is get the details from’em. Maybe bring’em somewhere private. “

Monduu grins wryly. "So, fellas. Who's the fish out of water?"

"Depends. Who's the biggest fish to our friend, eh?"

Arutha headed down the gangplank to head towards the trap location. Unsure of where things in the city are located he waited for another to take the lead so he could follow them there. "Lead on, I am unsure of the location of anything in the city yet."

"That'd be—" Monduu starts to say.

"Me." Kelten answers, eyes suddenly cold like a predator targeting prey.

Monduu catches on. "Who," he says in thieves cant.

"Wyrmhoof," Kelten replies back in code.

Arutha spots a few crew members take positions alongside four horse-drawn wagons as they start to roll out of the cargo bay.

"The bait," Skorbor grunts.

"Keep a low profile gents," Symaliea says, twirling as she swings down by rope to the pier.

"We'll follow Harbor Street for a few blocks then turn left onto Rotisserie Row," the half-orc explains.

OOC. Feel free to name streets, establishments, the like, as you move through Baldur's Gate. Nearly all the city is up for grabs in terms of naming conventions and descriptions.

Arutha, Knowing he will not blend in with the "normal" towns people with 3 swords strapped to his form follows the wagon at a... discreet... distance. Hoping to notice if anyone is watching the wagon more closely that would be normal and looking for any "tails" it may have.