Hildigrim looks at the others and then back at the thin guy. "They're with me," he says. His voice and eyes are full of curiosity. "I wasn't kidding when I mentioned that pub. I want to hear what it is that has you running." As the others arrive, he nods at the young man. "This is Semmy ... 'the Rat'. I know him from the Dock Ward. We sometimes played together." He's looking at Semmy intently. "Fort told me he heard you were working for the Zhents." As usual, Hildi is oblivious to the crowd and their stares and grumbling.

Semmy glances around at the people. "Uh, me? No, um no, I uh..." he pulls Hildi aside a little. "Um, not here, Hildi."

Drusk is not impressed by someone called "the Rat" working for the Zhentarim. And Hildigrim wants information from the uptight fellow. Drusk decides to have a little fun, and hopefully help make things easier for Hildi.

Drusk puts on his best (ie. worst) half-orc smile, wraps an arm around Semmy and squeezes him a bit too tightly. "You friend of Hildigrim? Master says, Crunch not eat friend of master."

"Eep!" Semmy wriggles in Drusk's grasp. "Look! I, uh, I might have done some stuff for them, carried a thing, maybe gone with a couple guys to collect some stuff... but I'm done! I don't wanna die!" this last you're unsure if he's referring to Drusk or something else.

Jorin leans in on Semmy opposite Drusk and says, "Now Drusk, you know how we usually do it.  I beat them into mush first so that you do not harm your delicate tusks." He looks at Hildi and adds, "what do you say?"

Semmy is thoroughly cowed. What would you have him spill his guts about?

Hildigrim and Semmy wanted to go someplace a little more private. (Hildigrim leads, the other 3 of us flank Semmy so he doesn't get any crazy ideas.)

Drusk will give Hildigrim an inquisitive look. Is it more urgent to get inside the gates, or for this Semmy-person to talk? Up to him if he wants to go through the gate (and find a pub inside the city), or if he wants to backtrack to the North Gate Pub and find a quiet back-booth for conversation.

At first, Hildigrim is confused by Drusk and Jorin's jesting, watching the scene between his new friends and old acquaintance through a fog of curiosity and speculation. He looks at the three for a few seconds, then appears to catch on to the joke. "Oh!" The halfling grins. "Quit scaring Semmy, you guys. Let's go back to that pub, and he can tell us what has transpired. Maybe after a little libation, it will be easier to get through the gate." Hildigrim marches north toward the North Gate Pub, oblivious to Drusk and Jorin's manhandling of Semmy to make sure he cooperates.

Pascal will also tag along, ignoring the intimidation tactics taking place, “See, Hildi, told ya it was gonna be a fun trip. Now to get us a bit of grub.”

Drusk realizes he totally misread the situation, and stops trying to scare the bejeezus out of Semmy.

Jorin blinks a couple times and erupts in laughter.  He claps Semmy on the back and then falls in behind Hildi.

The group makes its way back to the crossroads. Night is in the process of falling, and torches are out in the cold and the dark.

You get a table at the North Gate Pub, to hear Semmy's tale. The first part is interesting, the second part, horrifying. Well, to some of you.

"Okay, so, you know I been workin a little with the Doom Raiders, what're part of the Zhents, I guess. Mostly I jus' help move, uh, goods, y'know? Stuff like that, they pay good, so long as you don't double cross 'em. An even then, theys more like to turn ya in to the Watch than bleed you out in a gutter. An theys always been careful, you know, cause there's others what work in the same, uh, the same trades, as it was."

He looks around the place furtively and leans in close.

"The Xanathar is real... I know! I know! He, or, or she, is supposed to be some sort of ghost story the worst sorts tell to scare 'emselves. Nobody knows where he is, or, even, what he is. I heard he's a dark elf, come from the Shadowfell! Well, anyway, the Xanathar's goons have been steppin' out and doing harm, sayin there's Zhents been messing in their turf, but there ain't! I swear. Thats bad enough with them goons on the lookout, but now I heard there's a new gang in town, what're calling's them selves Zhents, too! But they ain't Doom Raiders, and they ain't got no sense, going straight after the Xanathar! Now folks is dying' and worse and I just had to get out o' the walls for a bit. Gonna hole up out here, maybe take a vacation up to Amphail or summat. Learn ta ride a horse."

He stops to take a breath.

"Oh, an the Watch and the wallies, they're so hot to stop 'cause of the fire. Turns out, that place down near the Dock Ward, what's it called, the Dancing Swine or something? You been there, right, Hildi? Had a fiddle on it, I think? Anyway, last night it burned down! Took a few of the buildings round it, too. Lucky one o' the robes was nearby and cooled it down a'fore it took the whole ward! Some o' my guys was sayin' it was like a big fire boom or summit. But I weren't there, so. Anyway, so the Watch is really worked up, I been stopped twice today for nuthin' but it puts a big target on you, right, Hildi, being talked to by the Watch? So I gotta get."

"Is there food?"

"It is too bad about that Dancing Swine place burning down. But it could be worse; it could have been the Fiddly Pig!"

OOC > LOL.

"Oh!" Semmy brightens up. "Yeah, that's what it was called! The Fiddly Pig! Yeah, that place is burned to the ground."

Pascal throws an arm around Semmy’s shoulder, “Oh my friend, there’s food alright. Any friend of theirs is a friend of mine! Come on, we gonna treat your tastebuds!”

At the mention of the fiddle, Hildigrim's mouth drops open and his eyes gloss over. It isn't until Drusk and Semmy actually say the words "Fiddly Pig" that the halfling speaks. "My books," he says quietly. It might be a trick of the light, but it looks like Hildigrim's eyes are mighty shiny. He closes them and takes some deep breaths. With his eyes still closed, he asks calmly, "Any word on the Pig's proprietor and his family, the Pumpeloafs: Gung, Chobin and their baby, Bolbin?" His eyes open and he looks hard at Semmy as if he is steeling himself for the worst concerning the very hospitable dwarven family.

Semmy nods. "Oh, I don't know their names, but I did hear the owners o' that place got taken in by the robes, maybe even the Blackstaff 'erself! They were sayin' they got rooms at the Yawning Portal, if you can believe that! Something' about old Durnan owing the dwarf a favor. Or maybe just doing a solid for the Blackstaff. I dunno."

OOC > Player Map of Waterdeep updated with new information... https://mingofaust.com/peek/HeistPlayerMap.jpg

Jorin walks into the pub and shakes off the cold.  When they sit, he orders a round of food and drink, looking for anything on the menu he hasn't had before.  As Semmy goes on about the various factions at play, Doom Raiders, Zhents, more Zhents, Xanathars, Jorin's eyes glaze over a little as he tries to figure out which of these groups he has heard of and which are new to him.

Jorin takes the news of the Pig's demise with a solemn nod.  "They had the best mutton, nice and lean, so perky."  He puts an arm around Hildi, "We'll get you more books, do not worry."

OOC > Finally did some homework about the date. It is the end of the year 1492 (The Year of Three Ships Sailing, WOC are so funny), but just the start of the twelfth month (Nightal), so Nightal 3, 1492. The Winter Solstice is on Nightal 20. The year switches between Nightal 30 and Hammer 1, with the festival of Wintershield on Hammer 1, 1493 (The Year of the Purple Dragons).