OOC: Added a shortsword to Auriel's inventory. Added the letter to Hex's inventory.

The longship is still a short distance from the cave, so basically just need to know how you're approaching the cave, then I can advance us!

Deception: 15

"Hm... well, minor for me, at least." Hex chuckles before taking the note. "The Welcomers aren't exactly good people. They're a common thieves guild that make the lives of the people in Phlan worse. Anything I can do ruin their reputation and credibility is for the better."

Hildigrim watches the exchange between Auriel and Hex with quiet interest before finally speaking up, his tone shifting into that of a well-practiced lecturer — measured, informative, but not without a hint of wry amusement.

"The Welcomers are the dominant thieves’ guild in Phlan. Smuggling, burglary, illicit trade — they control it. They prefer to avoid open fights unless necessary. Their most infamous trait? The initiation ritual. They cut off a new member’s left ear as a mark of loyalty. So, if someone’s a full-fledged member, you’ll know it."

He adjusts his cloak, still shivering slightly but seeming to ignore it as he continues.

"The Zhentarim, on the other hand, aren’t just another thieves’ guild. They operate across Faerûn, expanding their influence through espionage, mercenary work, trade monopolies, and — when needed — brute force. Where the Welcomers are concerned with running the underworld, the Zhents think bigger. They don’t just steal gold; they control economies. They don’t just bribe guards; they infiltrate governments. If they’ve got spies in the Black Fist, that means they’re not just watching Phlan — they’re setting something in motion. And if they think Krulek knew too much, they don’t just want him dead. They’ll want to know who else he told."

He glances at the note in Hex's again, his expression thoughtful.

"Now, ‘Zhentilar’ — that’s an old name. They were the military arm of Zhentil Keep, back when it was the Zhentarim’s stronghold on the Moonsea. Brutal, disciplined, dangerous. But Zhentil Keep is gone, and the Zhentilar with it — or so I thought. Either someone’s clinging to the past, or the Zhents are gearing up for something bigger than just a few spies in the city watch."

He tugs his cloak more tightly around him and exhales sharply while pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his narrow nose. "One thing’s for sure — if the Zhents are involved, they’re not just reacting to events. They’re shaping them."

Auriel listens to Hildigrim’s explanation with a grateful nod, though his expression darkens at the mention of the Zhentarim. "The Zhentarim sound like the kind of people that is best to avoid. Hopefully, we won’t have to cross paths with them."

Pushing those thoughts aside, he refocuses on their next steps. "How do we reach the cave? That rowboat would’ve been useful, but it’s too far. If we want to stick to the story that we caught the guards sleeping, we should approach in our own boat rather than this one."

((Carl is using shape water around the boat to aid in their approach, trying to make it as quiet as possible and with less waves/disruption, easing their movement into the cave and near to a docking area where they can disembark.))

Hex nods at Auriel's suggestion of using their sailboat to reach the caves. "Good point. Sounds like a plan then."

A pebbled stone beach nestles inside the sea cave. Your ship comes to rest next to a rowboat that has been pulled up onto the beach, large enough to fit eight passengers. Past the rowboat is a narrow passageway that leads upward. The cavernous sea cave echoes with the ebb and flow of the tide, and the air inside is almost cold enough to match the temperature of the Moonsea itself.

Hildigrim leaps to the beach, readjusting his cloak again. He, too, is making sure his weapons remain hidden — except for the shortbow slung across his back, a concession to appearances. His keen gaze sweeps the cave, lingering on any dark corners or possible hiding spots, ensuring they aren’t leaving behind anything — or anyone — that could cause trouble later. Satisfied, he moves toward the passageway, his movements silent but purposeful.

Auriel wonders how many of the eight potential passengers of the rowboat might have entered the cave and whether any could still be inside. He wraps himself in his gray cloak—partly to shield himself from anyone who might be watching, and partly because the chill inside the cave is biting— and ensures he walks at the back of the group. There’s no way to hide his weapons, so he will trust his companions to sense if anyone’s lurking in the cave.

Hex takes lead of the group as they head inside the cave, her disguise as Rathene being their first line of defense. She keeps a bit of distance from the others so that if she's seen, nobody else is. She moves light on her feet, trying to make as little noise as possible and sticks close to the walls.

After they disembark on the beach, Carl takes off his hastily thrown on grey cloak, he takes off his backpack as well.  He affixes his battle axe in the carefully made slots of his backpack, to protect the blade and have the handle aligned going south, toward his dwarven buttocks.  After it is secure, he puts the pack back on, and then the cloak over all, readjusting so that everything remains as hidden as possible.  Once he’s got everything situated, he follows Hildigrim and Hex, making his way upward, with Auriel trailing behind him.  He urges Squirt Mudbottom to walk alongside him, at times whispering his thoughts to him, as if he would reply.

The passageway winds upward for some distance before finally opening out onto the top side of King's Pyre.

A three-tiered chessboard lies on the ground just outside the cave, its pieces set in mid-game positions. A loaf of bread and a wineskin sit next to the board. The outlaw camp lies to the south, half-hidden behind a rise of boulders.

A human woman in a gray cloak crouches next to the chessboard, studying the pieces. Her long, raven-colored hair is wet from the damp, foggy air, and sticks to her face. She appears to be alone.

Hildigrim’s eyes light up at the sight of the dragonchess board, his mouth opening in delight — but he catches himself, snapping his jaw shut with an audible clack. Schooling his expression into something more solemn, he clears his throat and steps forward. "Hail, madam. My friends and I have escorted Rathene from the Grimshackle brothers’ jail. Is Krulek available?"

As Hildigrim steps forward, Hex follows and stands slightly behind him. Her hood was still up but she raised her head so that her face could still be seen by the woman.

Auriel steps up beside the fake Rathene and glances at the dragonchess board. "That doesn't look good for the whites. Whoever's playing black has the upper hand." His tone is casual, as if he knew everything there is to know about dragonchess—which he doesn’t; the board is complete gibberish to him.

The eladrin speaks naturally, as if the party truly belonged there, same as the rest of the Gray Cloaks.

Carl walks over but stands there quietly, watching the interaction and waiting to see her response.  He looks over and sees his invisible servant walk over toward the chess board nearby.  

The woman leaps up with a start, whipping her crossbow up to aim at the cave entrance. Lowering the crossbow somewhat as Hex walks into view through the fog, she frowns and fiddles with a horn on her belt. "Krulek's been meeting with the dragonborn for hours. They been taking breaks though," she says.

"Don't touch it," the woman says curtly to Auriel. "You'll mess up our patrol." She walks over to the board and looks a few seconds longer, then moves one of the pieces into a different position. She then walks away, moving to circle the camp.

Auriel raises his hands innocently. "I get it, no touching," he replies. He waits until the woman leaves, then turns to his companions. "So, the dragonchess board is some kind of code among the patrolling guards. I wonder if they have to move the pieces in a specific pattern? In any case," he continues, "it seems having Rathene among us will let us move freely in this part of the camp."

Turning to Hex, the paladin asks, "How long before the spell vanishes? Will you notice when it's about to expire?"

Then, facing the group again, he adds, "So? Next steps? We wanted to get Jeralla's book, so I guess we should head to the other side. But I wonder if the Gray Patriots can walk freely in Jeralla's territory. We could take a walk near the waterfall and check that out."

Hildigrim gives the woman a small nod of acknowledgment, then watches her retreating form, filing away details about her demeanor and movements. As Auriel and Hex talk, his gaze drifts back to the dragonchess board, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. He replays the woman’s last move, considering the placement of the pieces, their arrangement, and whether the board might be a coded system — a subtle way to track patrol rotations or signal others. His fingers twitch slightly, itching to test a theory, but for now, he simply watches and thinks.

Hex shrugs at Auriel. "The spell lasts for about an hour. We have some time left but we should move quickly." When he suggests taking a walk to the waterfall, she gestures to where the woman walked off to. "Lets head over to their camp first, or at least get a better glimpse of what's happening on this side. Maybe get some more information before my spell fades."