Morph nods as Rethans eyes glaze over and his senses leave with Midnight.

Morph smiles and starts talking to Rethan, retelling tales of times past, as if Rethan is still there and listening, making it look like a few friends just having a drink.

"Yeah, remember that time we came down this way while on leave, that time we run into Greta?"

"Man was she ever mad at you, ha ha ha! Carrying on about you falling asleep, when she thought you two were going to be doing "other things" in bed."

"And then you just get up in the morning and head back to barracks like nothing had happened. Man she was furious, I thought she was going to flay you alive."

"I've only run that fast and long, being chased by a troll out on the western border."

Morph continues to chat and reminisce, while his friends mind is elsewhere.

Midnight creeps along the pier, hiding where possible behind coils of rope and posts. His coloring makes him ideally suited to prowling  at night, with only his eyes risking giving him away.

DM Shield:

 The cat pads quietly down the length of the pier, stopping at the base of the gangway onto the ship moored there. "Lookin' pretty empty in here now," says a rough voice.

Midnight creeps up the gangway and onto the ship. "And lookin' pretty full down in storage. We finish hauling this load and we can start loading up the liquor."

The cat finds a place near the top of the stairs down into the hold and nestles into the shadows to listen. "I've been assured it is higher quality than the last swill you gave me."

"We cut it with something a little more palatable."

"I don't care what it tastes like. Can it get you drunk?"

"Well...if you drink enough of it."

After a long silence, the first voice says, "I can work with that."

Foots begin clomping up the stairs and the pair of bugbears, followed by the half-orc, human, and dwarf all emerge and descend to the pier each carrying a large crate.

Titus exchanges and uneasy glance with his companions and speaks to them in a whisper “I still don’t quite know the best way to go about this... I don’t see how we could simply get a pair of ears off of one of these goons, I certainly wouldn’t willing part with any of my body parts. And even if they are gang members, I don’t feel we should just assault and mutilate them... that doesn’t seem befitting of great hero’s like us...”

Morph looks uneasy for a moment and whispers back at Titus,

"Yeah, honestly, I'm feeling a little uneasy about this whole thing."

Morph smiles, and continues with his covering banter.

"Well..." Laniel says but hesitates as he thinks. "Perhaps we don't need to separate the ears from the bugbear to make this work."

Morph ponders Laniel's words,

"Right, we could detain one of them, then when we are done with them, we can hand them over to the Watch."

Morph looks at Rethan's Helm,

"We could just grab one of them and "bamf!", we are back in the manor, maybe in the cellar?"

Morph opens his pack at his feet, and quickly riffles through it.

"I have my rope...maybe we see what Rethan finds and decide?"

Mal arrives back at the manor to find it only inhabited by a poltergeist and a note that only says, "Pier 17". He arrives at the dock ward to find the party across the street from the pier nursing drinks. Rethan is in a stupor, his eyes blank as he has no need for them while he is using those of his familiar.

"Mal!" Laniel says, perhaps a little too loudly.

Morph waves Mal over.

As Mal gets close enough, Morph whispers,

"Mal, maybe you can help us, we are sort of having a crisis of conscience."

"We need Bugbear ears, but we don't want to just walk up to one and cut them off."

"We are thinking, maybe we could capture one whole? We could take the ears, with the rest of the bugbear, when we head down maybe?"

"Or Titus suggested, maybe we could acquire some magic that would allow one of us to become a bugbear temporarily?"

"What do you think? Any ideas that don't have us mutilating a Bugbear, that could just have gotten caught up with the Xanathar unwillingly?"

"Why not make it a gamble?" Mal asks, swiftly appraising the situation. "These are dock workers,  right? They'd bet on anything they think they could win at. And if we win, then we get the ears. If we lose, well, we must surely defend the honor and physical integrity of one of our own comrades, right? I realize it might be a bit of a grey area for you, but surely more acceptable than outright assault and battery."

Mal ponders for a moment. 

"Alternatively, I have a few spells that might do the trick, and if it comes down to it, I could make one of the bugbears voluntarily provide us with what we need. It would take about a few minutes, and I would need to be alone with the creature, preferably where the creature is restrained. Any suggestions?"

"Ahh, I think maybe you missed my meaning?"

"We are feeling a bit morally conflicted about the acquisition of the ears."

"Having the bugbears cut off their own ears and give them too us...well that seems much worse to me..."

Morph looks at Titus, at the last part.

Morph contemplates for moment before making up his mind.

Morph takes Golorr out of his pouch, keeping him hidden.

Mal gives Morph a blank stare. "So your wanting one of them to go down into a certainly deadly dungeon with us, to present his tender head before any number of dangers until we can use a small part of him as a magic key? I mean, sure - but getting the ears now will at least leave the poor thing alive, even if a little damaged. Taking the full package with us is a good bit more dangerous, seems to me."

Morph:

“I for one will not be participating in any kidnapping and trafficking of Bugbears, or Bugbear parts.” He pompously declares to his companions.

“But perhaps we can simply hire one to accompany us, I’m sure that even if one of these fellows won’t do it personally, they know a Bugbear who would.

Besides...it might not hurt to have a sellsword with us going into a dangerous situation like that anyway, and perhaps Mal can help us convince one of them to give us a favorable deal.” He winks as he says the last part.

"Now we're cookin' with fire." Mal rubs his hands in anticipation, the prospect of the ephemeral ideal bargain wafting through his conscious and subconscious alike with a warm, rushing feeling.

"That seems like a good plan. We'll hire a bugbear." Laniel chuckles. "Never thought I would say such a thing."

Morph seems to relax a bit,

"Yeah, I like that idea a lot more."

"So how do we want to do it? Should we just walk over and strike up a conversation?"

"I might try and get Rethan back, for a moment."

Morph reaches over to Rethan and gives him a shake, trying to get through to his deaf and blind friend.

Titus will wait until the party is ready to move forward, he explains that he will approach the Bugbear first and then call Mal in to seal the deal. He then promptly and proudly marches up to the bugbears they saw across the street.

"Citizens, lend me your ears!" Says Titus with a stupid grin on his face, he gives an informal salute at the duo as he approaches, "I'm Titus, and I've got a proposition for ambitious young men like yourselves...  We have been told that the Bugbears who frequent this part of town are among the fiercest warriors in the city. I'm providing an armed escort through a dangerous part of town and the boss here wants a Bugbear to fill out the ranks." Titus gestures at Mal, "You or your friend here interested in some extra coin? The boss pays good wage for good work, and he's been dead set on getting a bugbear, so what do you think you know anyone up to the task or was that just fanciful talk we heard about the bugbear clans that run down by these docks?"

Persuasion  18

(Sorrry for my absence. Was busy over the holiday weekend then my computer won’t boot up anymore. On my phone atm. Will try to catch up and see if I can get something posted)

Rethan  doesn’t feel Morphs attempts to shake him back to awareness, but after a few more moments, his eyes return to normal and he looks back to the others, reporting what he heard. 

The bugbears and humanoids hauling crates all freeze in place as Titus boldly steps in front of them.

The dwarf, balancing a crate on his hands and head, squints his eyes at the dragonborn. "You a zhent?" he says in a gravelly voice. "Naw, you ain't a zhent. Well, these bugbears work for us. We treat 'em right and keep 'em good 'n happy. You tell your boss he ain't go no right to pull this right in front of me."

"You got some balls," says the half-orc in a somehow-even-more-gravelly voice. "If you don't bugger off, this crate will end up your arse."

The bubgears remain silent, but give each other a pointed look.