As Threnody made her way to the Elfsong Tavern, she found herself wrestling with what she had witnessed at the Basilisk Gate. The prosecution of a private, underground war with the Zhentarim and the entanglement with the Guild had left her distracted from events in the wider region. Yet she couldn't deny the truth of her own eyes - overrun by desperate refugees, the City of Blood was beginning to bulge at the seams.

She could see the logic in tying a tourniquet on the wound, but with every passing hour it seemed Baldur's Gate was swelling like a bruised organ, ready to rupture as the pressure built beneath the surface. The sealing of the gates meant those displaced by the disaster to the East had been left cruelly bereft of options, and if the feverish atmosphere at the Basilisk Gate that was anything to go by, Baldurians were not taking kindly to being caged within the city walls by Zodge and his Fist. 

It was difficult to wrap her mind around the notion that a city like Elturel could have fallen. Threnody was no particular devotee of Torm - her faith rested in the Doombringer Hoar - but she couldn't deny that the strict piety kept by the followers of the Loyal Fury in Elturel had produced something rare, a reputation for safety that a lawless city like Baldur's Gate could only dream of. It seemed a cruel twist of fate that the Gate, in all its festering rot and endless corruption, was now the haven for those fleeing calamity further up the River Chionthar. 

Threnody kept her silence as she followed the group chattering about the consequences about absconding from the duty that had been laid upon their shoulders. Tangling with cultists of the Dead Three would unquestionably be wrought with violence, and she feared for their welfare. Wendyl seemed far too gentle-hearted for such unpleasant work, Samosh as sunny as he was perplexing, and Kester was practically uxorious over his admittedly adorable dog. Liatris remained an enigma but seemed to possess the same tenacity and mettle she thought she'd seen in Bees. 

The tiefling woman gave a sidelong glance at the half-ogre and animated armour keeping watch at the door and followed her fellow conspirators into the establishment.  Winding her way past adventurers nursing ales and exchanging conversation, she turned her gaze towards the stairs and lowered her voice. "Zodge didn't offer any particulars, but if there's going to be anyone picking up stray gossip for the Guild, it's likely someone going out of their way to look inconspicuous." Threnody leaned over, muttering in response to Kester's question. She nodded at Liatris' assessment - the snoring gnome seemed the most likely suspect, but she awaited a response from the barkeeper before acting further. 

     "A gnome sleeping in the middle of all this?" Kester asks of both commenters.  "That seems the most obvious one to me.  Wouldn't the least obvious person in a tavern just be someone who works at the tavern?  Give you the ability to be there most the time, to talk to everyone without raising suspicion..."

     Kester then pauses and looks up at the two - Threnody and Liatris - and suddenly feels quite like he has overstepped.  If possible, he shrinks even further into himself, shrugs and then offers an offhanded smile.  "But what would I know, right?  I'll just go sit over here..." and scurries off to do just that.

Bees - The rough looking men and women at the table you approach exchange glances. One of the men, presumably the leader, merely nods at you, but his fingers spell out that he understands your meaning and that his group will do no harm to the other halflings.

Liatris - The half-elven bartender comes over and a flicker of recognition passes over his face. Alan Alyth nods and inclines his head toward the second floor. "She's upstairs. Gambling most likely."

Samosh - "That's mighty generous of you," Alan informs Samosh as he prepares the drinks. "My patrons will be much obliged."

As the drinks are passed around, a cheer goes up, and some of the patrons pat Samosh on the back.

"Thank ye kindly, stranger," says a human man with no eyebrows who is nearly falling down drunk. He sloshes some of his ale and it patters to the floor, nearly hitting Samosh's boots.

"Hmph, could've splurged for something more palatable," comments a halfling woman wearing a colorful cape and pointed hat. "The ale here is barely drinkable, if you ask me."

Bees flicks a gold coin to the leader and gives him a nod of respect before joining the group at the bar. Noting the fact the leader confirmed and understood his message. Afterwards, he walks up to the bar as Latris questions the bartender. 'A gambler, huh... I imagine this information won't be free. Maybe a game of chance will be involved.' Bees enjoys a good game of chance from time to time, but knows all too well how desperate it can make people when they lose.

Bees suggests, "Best we head upstairs then." in his usual gruff, gravelly voice. He looks in surprise as Samosh orders a round for everyone in the bar. "That'll win ya some friends." Turning to the barkeep, "Nothing for me, thanks."

This time, Bees waits to be the last one up the stairs, ensuring the group stays safe from pickpockets as they linger in the bar.

Samosh makes his way politely through the crowd and up the stairs, smiling genially. Everybody should be happy, the last thing they need a bar brawl.

When he reaches the top he takes a look around.

Perception check 13

Wendyll, nervous as all get-out, quietly follows the others, trying to act like he belongs and failing miserably. From the top of the stairs, he scans the crowd to see if anyone seems to be watching them...

     Sitting at a table with an ale and expecting everyone else to join, Kester is surprised to see Bees and Samosh heading for the stairs.  "Did we not want a table?" he calls out after them.  "Or hey!  Did you find out where Tarina is?  Is she upstairs?"  Grabbing his drink, Kester gets up and heads to follow...

"Hold on, wait a moment!" Threnody calls out too late, wincing as her fellow conspirators head up the squeaky staircase, creaks louder than a dinghy in a tempest announcing their imminent arrival.

We've just barely escaped framing the Guild with the aim of plunging them into a war with the Zhentarim, and we're just blithely strolling into a meeting with a spy known to work for them, in a place we haven't scoped out? It was unlikely to turn out to be an ambush, or else Tarina's association with the Guild would have been concealed. But it still didn't hurt to be careful. 

The paladin briskly ascends the stairs, giving Bees an appreciative nod as he watches their backs. "The Guild won't be best pleased about events down in Rivington." She whispers to the others as she hurries to the second floor. "So keep your eyes sharp for any funny business."

Slightly Earlier... (as player missed this post)

"Mn. Another possibility, and all the more reason to ask the proprietor of the establishment." Is all Liatris really had to say in response as Kester seemed to reconsider things. And while the thought occurred in that moment to consider the added possibility of their quarry operating under a different name, it's dismissed almost immediately in a faint shake of her head. 'One step at a time' She'd thought before making her move for Alan...

At present...

"Many thanks as always, Mr. Alyth." Following a faint nod to the bartender, Liatris turned and looked as if readying to address the others, only to instead find herself simply nodding in agreement following Bees remark before immediately heading for the stairs. "So it would seem." Liatris answered Kester had the others on the way up not beaten her to it. Either way, her attention remained even more so focused trying to spot anyone reacting to the name on from the second floor, as the group still hadn't a face or description to go with the name. But even if none had, surely Captain Zodge had given away their description, if not told Tarina to expect them? An idle thought that doesn't get nearly as much traction as the whispered word of warning from Therondy once all were at the top. To which all she had to add was "Naturally", prior to resetting her focus towards surveying the patrons on the second floor. 

Lit lanterns hang from the rafters in the upstairs dining room, which is otherwise windowless and smoky. Rugs cover the wooden floor and help dampen the noise from drunken patrons gathered around two large tables, eating and playing games of Baldur’s Bones. At the nearest table to the stairs sits a group of four: a human woman dressed in leather with dark, unruly hair and a scar across her cheek; a large, bald human man wearing a stained tunic; a scrawny, human man with many missing teeth; and a loud dwarf who keeps cursing his native language every time the dice don't go his way, which is apparently quite often judging by his outbursts.

Samosh and Wendyll - As you come up the stairs and glance toward the nearest table, you notice that when the human woman goes to roll the dice, she makes a subtle, almost unnoticeable gesture with her left hand, which she keeps just underneath the table. Wendyll recognizes the gesture to be arcane. Samosh realizes that this woman is cheating.

"Snake eyes again!" the dwarf grumbles as his dice come up ones. "Blasted dice. You're going to take the clothes off my back at this rate, Tarina."

"What can I say, boys?" the human woman smirks. "It's my lucky day."

To Samosh, it doesn't matter if the woman is cheating. She should be more careful though or her run of "luck" is going to get her in trouble. 

Samosh approaches the table and waits patiently for a time to present the group to this tricky lady. He guess it will be when the man flips his lid. If it gets to that point, he will none too gently intervene on her behalf.

Bees, last up the stairs, takes the scene in with peaked interest. Walking over to the bar (assuming there is one on the second floor) Bees asks the bartender for a cigar and lights it up, adding to the smoke in the room. He watches Samosh stand at the table awkwardly, awaiting an opportune moment to interject himself. A smile creases Bees' face as he watches the dwarf curse at his fortune. 'Just proves my point that gambling makes people desperate.'

 Bees walks over to the table and asks, "Room for one more?"

     Kester is curious about the game so just does his best to watch.  Alas, the table is a bit too high to make that possible so he finds himself an empty chair, drags it nearby, then climbs up so as to stand on it and get a clearer view.  Otherwise he waits and allows the others to initiate contact...

Wendyll will folow his instincts and slouch into the shadows, trying to keep away from anyone's notice.... but he's so stressed that he isn't fully aware of whether he's actually hidden or not.

 He'll keep his eyes on the non-cheating players, breathing carefully, wiggling his casting fingers, ready to jump into action and aid his new allies if things take violent turn...

Threnody heads over to wherever drinks can be procured on the second floor and orders a glass of red wine. She swirls the heavy liquid in the glass, inhales the aroma and takes a slow sip. As the flavour lingers on her tongue, the tiefling briefly indulges in a fantasy of being elsewhere, somewhere safer and quieter. No Guild, no murderous cults, no obligations. Just wine and music, and a rare hour or two of peace and safety.

Her ruby gaze flits across the room, watching not just Tarina, but everyone who happens to glance at her too. She assesses their proximity, the disposition towards the human woman's victory at the dice game, the quality of weapons on those who might be in league with the Guild spy. When she's satisfied she has a measure of the room and the number of allies Tarina might have, she shares her assessment with the others holding back - Kester, Samosh and Wendyll - if she's able to do so discreetly. 

When Bees makes his move, she steps closer to the action, the stem of her wine glass cradled in one hand. "If you're open to new players, I've got a chunk of change that's starting to feel mighty heavy in my purse." She smiles gently. "I could stand to lose a coin or three."

 ((Insight roll on Tarina and whether she has any other allies in the room: 18 + 4 = 22))

Though hardly a self-aware social creature under most circumstances, even Liatris knew better then to swarm the table with the others, least Tarina mistook things. So, in seeing Samosh, Bees, and Therondy make their move for the table at various intervals, the "elf" would instead find some place comfortable enough near the stairs to sit, observe things from far, and if need be, run interception on anyone making a sudden break for the stairs. At least anyone she deemed that warranted needing to be stopped before they could reach the stairs.

Threnody studies the upstairs dining room discreetly, searching for anyone who seems to be allied with Tarina or from the Guild in general. From what she can tell, it seems that Tarina is here alone. The men she is playing with seem earnest but not particularly intelligent, not subtle enough to be members of the Guild. The players at the only other table are absorbed in their own game and not paying Tarina any mind at all. As far as Tarina's winning streak goes, the two human men seem resigned, but the dwarf's frustration is only growing.

"I could stand to gain another coin or three," Tarina smiles, ushering Bees and Threnody to pull up some chairs.

"Beware this one!" the dwarf says loudly. "She'll rob you blind!"

"Now, now, Durgrim. No one likes a sore loser."

Durgrim's face, already a beet red, begins to turn purple. "I'll show you sore!" he suddenly declares, knocking over his chair in his haste to stand up. "You're a bloody cheat! Not even Tymora herself could win five games in a row!"

Samosh gets in Durgrim's face and smiles. "Are you done little guy? I was waiting for a seat."

     At the commotion caused by the dwarf upending a chair Kester immediately takes a step back...  Forgetting that he was standing upon a chair himself.  His foot immediately hits the backrest of the chair and he finds himself tripping himself ass over tit and sending his own chair flying up into the air to come crashing down upon himself.

     "Err.... oops?" He says meekly from under the chair and then scrambles to get back to his feet to see just what is going on.

Bees casually walks over to the upended chair recently vacated by Durgrim, grabs it and places it back on its feet. Turning to Durgrim, he says, "Looks like you're done here mate. Best be on yer way." The scowl on his face meant to intimidate the dwarf into backing down. (Intimidation: Nat 20-1=19)

The gruff-looking halfling plops down in the chair, clearly moving on from the dwarf without a second thought. "Now let's play some cards!"

Bees looks over at Kester as he falls out of his chair and asks him, "You okay brother?"