Richter wiped one of his swords and sheathed it, but still kept one at the ready as he turned heel and began leading the party around the corner and down the western corridor. The voices and noise began to grow louder. "Alright. Let's move." The hall continued for nearly 100 feet before any change from the same stone walls of the dungeon itself. An open doorway, or more aptly described, a break in the wall, is placed on the eastern wall of the hallway, as the constructed stone disappears and the smooth rock walls of a cavern surround you all.
Through the break in the wall, a room is visible. The biggest any of you had seen since awaking in this place, though for Anearis, it was a room he'd not only seen, but stood within. The room was approximately two stories tall, if not three. And at least a hundred feet in any direction. A large stone slab seemingly carved from stone coming out of the floor, stood near the center of the room, and blocking a majority view of a pool just beyond it. The ‘water’ that filled it was a deep red and thick enough that you couldn’t see anything through it. The construction of this room seemed to be much cruder than anything else you had seen thus far. More like a cave than a room. A hole at the top of this cave allowed moonlight to penetrate the darkness and shine upon the pool. As you pass by, you can see armored figures entering the room, through another open doorway at the other end.
Only a few steps further past the cave room entrance, Richter and Felix took a sharp left turn, and entered a new tunnel, this one while of different construction than the dungeon, was definitely man-made.
Richter and Felix, a yellow slit-eyed Yuan-ti with disheveled black hair and full black oiled-leather armor and cloak, and a robed human with close-cropped brown hair and matching goatee, respectively, lead the party through a series of tunnels. It became obvious that the tunnels were in fact the sewers of Cathaan, apparent by the grooved water ways, occasion pipe dumping thick liquids, and general smell of ammonia. Eventually the later dispersed after climbing several short ladders and ascending/descending staircases.
The journey ended after approximately a half-hour, by anyone's best guess, of traversing the winding tunnels. The room you all have reached is of the same construction of the sewer tunnels, with walls arching up to meet at the center of the rounded ceiling. On one side of the room is a bar, with a hairy individual, full beard and scraggly brown hair, standing behind it. The room is otherwise filled with round wooden tables, and a variety of individuals sitting around them. The only light in the room comes from a series of lanterns about the bar counter and on each of the round tables.
Richter points to an open table "Make yourself at home. I'll get you all something to calm the nerves, then we can speak." Richter then pulls Atal with him, as he walks toward the scraggly individual behind the bar counter.
Looking around the room Uthal now feels much more conscious of the fact that he's wearing very little, with the guards having taken all his things. He contents himself with sitting with his back to a wall and glaring at anyone who looks his way too long.
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Gronk in Bastion, Kingdom of Medrin Elixisysin Talaveroth (Team 2) Uthal in Lost Continent of Theviranne
"It's a tavern, though one you can consider a sanctuary, for the time being." Felix had walked over to the table with the group, but never sat down or even looked at them. Even as he spoke, responding abruptly, to Anearis's inquiries, his attention was focused more on something else in the crowd of others spread around the place. He left the table, and disappeared into the sea of patrons.
((Atal, the solid metal ring, pair of jewel earrings, bronze button, and goblet have been removed from your inventory as having been turned over to Richter, and he in turn gave them to the shaggy bartender. He allowed you to keep the rest.))
Both Richter and Atal returned to the party's table, tankards in hand, setting them on the table for the rest. Richter kicked up his feet onto the table's surface and leaned back in one of the chairs. "So the city's a little chaotic right now. Now I don't know if I'm saying it's something you caused, but it likely had to do with whatever was going on down under the Baron's estate." Richter spoke in between drinks, and turned to Anearis "However, what's on my mind is how one of the royal's companions came to join this little group of misfits." Turning to Atal "Especially after he knocked you out for them to capture."
Anearis looked at Richter with barely contained anger in his eyes. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He rose from his chair, suddenly.
"Let me make things perfectly clear before you start throwing wild accusations. Whatever was happening down there, I have no implications with. In fact, you keep calling me dandy or royal, when I have only gotten to Cathaan today. I have been employed by a merchant with good relations with the baron’s family to act as his valet. But what of you? Since you seem to know Atal, I assume you were all part of the same group of thieves. What were you doing snooping around the mansion? Please, explain me."
Richter tossed back the remainder of his cup, and smiled. ”We were robbing it, of course. I thought that was obvious.” He looked over at Uthal. “Was that not obvious? We werent exactly dressed for the formal occasion.” Richter looked over his shoulder combing the scene, and finding Felix. He watched for a few moments before turning back to the group. “We were hired to get Softie here,” he says nodding towards Uthal, ”into the premises, and part of the payment came from whatever goods we could assist in relinquishing from that heavy burden of wealth that the Baron is forced to bare.”
Richter looks over the drinks on the table, and picks up another, likely intended to have been meant for Felix. “I can see how being a valet justifies your presence AT the mansion and I may even believe your ‘royal assistance’ was due to your fresh-off-the-boat naivety, but that far from excuses the outfit...dandy.” Richter laughs at his own humor, and gulps down the drink. “And who was this merchant? Your employer.”
He was hoping this would provoke some sort of reaction to Richter. Something to shut him up perhaps. He lent me this outfit so that I could blend in at the Baron’s estate. I arrived with my own clothes.
He took a deep breath in order to calm himself down. He sat back down, still irritated by Richter’s mockery and accusations.
Richter spat out some of the drink, almost choking, but once clearing his lungs, it turned into wild laughter. "Fortunus, the Archmeister. Well, I guess that proves he really IS blind." Richter laughed wildly, slapping the table with his cup, causing several others from surrounding tables to look his way, including Felix, who came back to join the party at the table.
"The Guard of the Watch is being rounded up, well what's left of them. Looks like whatever happened beneath the mansion fell under suspicion of the Kingdom's Right Hand. Several royal members and their personal guard have fled the city. It's under martial law of the Right Hand." Richter's demeanor, changed suddenly, his laughter and smile fading into a more serious tone now. "And conveniently enough they couldn't care less about the burgarly. Instead, they're looking for our two stowaways for questioning." Felix pointed to Anearis and Ander. "For their connections with Lady Zelda and Sir Anton." Richter turned towards Ander "I was wondering when we'd get around to your involvement. I assume through a series of coincidental circumstances, you also just found yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time?"
"I was just here for the tourney. Sir Anton invited me to the manor for tonight's feast. Turned out he was trying to lure me in for some dark ritual. Seems the Berossus clan have been reincarnating their dead in new bodies, somehow. Some kind of foul sorcery. Luckily they stuck me in the same room as him." Ander jabs a thumb at Uthal.
"Lucky that all you newcomers still aren't used to what it takes to survive here. The fools built there cell too weak." Uthal looks over at Ander. "Though this one proved his worth in a fight. He was quick and fought well for one restrained."
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Gronk in Bastion, Kingdom of Medrin Elixisysin Talaveroth (Team 2) Uthal in Lost Continent of Theviranne
"Or they just didn't anticipate holding a behemoth." Richter laughed at his response to Uthal, but was cut short by Felix. "Preparing you for a ritual? That would likely explain the ink," he responded, eyeing Ander. He then removed a small leather book and ink from beneathe his robes, jotting down something as he switched his gaze between Ander's face and the book's pages. Richter joined in. "Your face." He circled his hand in the air, directly aligned with Ander's face, as if trying everything possible to drive home Felix's point, even though it likely didn't need to be explained further. "It has scribbles all over it. Looks fresh, though I doubt you did it yourself." Richter sat upright and over-exaggerated a stretch of his arms and back. "Seems like we got you out of there just in time. Like you owe us a life debt for saving you from becoming one of those things."
"That's something that can be saved for later. I recommend we get ears on the streets." Richter one again was forced to leave his jovial and playful manner in order to address serious matters that he knew he needed to, even if he didn't want to. "I agree, send them out, but more importantly we need someone to find out what more they can about the Right Hand's investigation. Someone in the guard that would've been kept on, one of the squires or scribes maybe."
Richter nodded to Felix who acknowledged and left the table. “Well we know the big man’s stuff is either still back down in the dungeon, or eventually moved to the Watch Barracks depending on how fast they decide to collect what’s down there. Since neither of you two can exactly be seen up top, where are you housing your equipment?” Richter asked, addressing Anearis and Ander, once again.
‘’I left my pack at Master Solomon’s shop. Which I don’t know if I should be returning to actually. What if he is in on it? What if he’s part of this cult?’’
A look of worry grew on the elf’s face. He didn’t know who to trust anymore.
"Whether or not the Archmeister is involved with the current dealings will be no problem to discover. Either way however, your things from his shop should be a relatively easy lift." Richter shifts his attention from Anearis to Ander. "You however, will require some investigation, since they just take the injured back to their tents to either be cared for back to health, or to die. This Donovan though, we'll find him and see where they took you. Might even have been the Guard Barracks considering the favor you had culled with the Watch Commander himself. Actually..." Richter looked upward towards the ceiling but not at it, more like he was attempting to see his mind play out a mental process only visible to him. "...that'd make a quite a bit of sense, and may be convenient for us, if that's where we can find your squire."
Richter finished his drink, and then quickly tossed back the remaining of a random third cup on the table, as he stood up. "For now, and I cannot stress this enough, do NOT leave this room. It will take some time to make preparations, but being as each of you are either completely wrapped up in, or suspected of being, the biggest threat to ever hit this city, we'll need to get you out of here."
((At this time, everyone can take a long rest, if you so desire.))
Atal shuffles back over to the group, drink in hand, and looking a little less pale in the face, though still as beat up as he was before. He flops down in a chair next to the others and nurses his drink with a groan.
"Now that was a day that dosen't bear repeating," he says to the others, toasting their continued survival. "So let me get this straight... we've still got a few things to clean up before this mess will stop clinging to us like a piece of dirty toilet paper on a shoe, huh?" He opens his mouth to continue, then spies Uthal in all his native glory. Wincing, he takes out the fine clothes he stole from his pack, and sifts through them until he finds one big enough. He hucks it towards Uthal's face.
"Put some clothes on, man, my eyes are begging you." As he considers the other three sets of livery, he grins, then hucks one set at Ander, and the other at Anaeris. "And you two... take a set each. I've got the feeling these are going to come in handy very soon. We need to recover your things, right?" Atal leans forward, looking at Richter. "I've got some skill with creating disguises... and with forging papers. If you can get me in touch with some materials, between these fancy outfits and my talents, I think we could likely get even Ander and Anearis topside without attracting too much attention. They'll be looking for desperate men on the run, not groomed, arrogant nobles wanting to know why martial law is preventing them from visiting their favourite drinking and whoring establishments. You'll blend right in with the rest of the upset bourgeois."
On hearing Ander mention his squire, Donovan, Atal's face falls. Part of his mind replays the screams of the young fellow they'd bound up in the banners, the one he was pretty sure had ended up dead. Because of me,he thinks, biting the inside of his cheek. "Donovan? Was that the kid who took you to the gates?" he asks Ander. "If this Right Hand is what I think it is, your kid's going to be locked up tighter than you were, since you're a wanted man right now. It might not be a bad thing... he's probably safer with them than he is out there on his own. But that's likely gonna be a problem... unless you don't want to rescue him."
Atal is only too happy to listen to Richter's plan... every part of him feels like a gigantic bruise, and trancing seems like it would be a most welcome rest for him. He pauses, looking at the others. I wonder,he thinks to himself. Then, with a shrug, Nah. They'll figure it out. Carefully adjusting his clothing and armor, he settles down to Trance, eager to relive through memories of happier times.
Atal ((To play catch up, for what happened when Richter pulled you over to the bar upon coming back here))
Upon Atal presented the ‘spoils’ of what was collected during the burglary, Richter laid it out on the counter. The bartender looked it over and removed several items of value, leaving the rest for Atal to take back. “Whatever the fence doesn’t want isn’t considered of value to the Guild itself. Yours to pawn or do what you wish. Regarding these..” Richter used the tip of his dagger to pick up a pair of the ladies undergarments. “In our circles at least, the Baron has been suspected of being ‘of the life-style’, so to speak. All of the skivvies, male and female, likely belong to him. But I do like your style, elfie. Come to think of it,” He looks over at the rest of the party, “Softie’s name will stick but being as you’re no longer the only elf, we may need a new one for you.”
Upon Richter seeing the coin Atal located within the Baron’s room, expressions of both concern and intrigue were visible on his face. “A less civilized tool, from a less civilized time.” He seemed to mutter this statement more for himself, than for you, even though it was clear enough to hear. He uses one of the undergarments to wrap up the coin. “This is something that’ll mean nothing here, but could be considered a threat in other regions. It’s a Black Spot, though more appropriately a black mark on the reputation of the Theviranne Thieves Guilds. The Thieves Guilds — oh welcome to the guild by the way” Richter quickly but nonchalantly interjects into his own speech, “the guilds were once united as one organization. The Black Spot was what fractured them into what they are today. It was a tool used for carrying out assassinations of the Guild’s own members. Be careful if you go to other parts of the land. The Black Spot is a forgotten relic here in Cathaan, but the wounds it caused are still fresh with others.”
The bartender returned with several mugs of ale, which Richter gleefully gathered some, and proceeded to the rest of the party, as if completely forgetting that he just dropped a morbid bombshell of a warning about the organization’s dark past.
Richter wiped one of his swords and sheathed it, but still kept one at the ready as he turned heel and began leading the party around the corner and down the western corridor. The voices and noise began to grow louder. "Alright. Let's move." The hall continued for nearly 100 feet before any change from the same stone walls of the dungeon itself. An open doorway, or more aptly described, a break in the wall, is placed on the eastern wall of the hallway, as the constructed stone disappears and the smooth rock walls of a cavern surround you all.
Through the break in the wall, a room is visible. The biggest any of you had seen since awaking in this place, though for Anearis, it was a room he'd not only seen, but stood within. The room was approximately two stories tall, if not three. And at least a hundred feet in any direction. A large stone slab seemingly carved from stone coming out of the floor, stood near the center of the room, and blocking a majority view of a pool just beyond it. The ‘water’ that filled it was a deep red and thick enough that you couldn’t see anything through it. The construction of this room seemed to be much cruder than anything else you had seen thus far. More like a cave than a room. A hole at the top of this cave allowed moonlight to penetrate the darkness and shine upon the pool. As you pass by, you can see armored figures entering the room, through another open doorway at the other end.
Only a few steps further past the cave room entrance, Richter and Felix took a sharp left turn, and entered a new tunnel, this one while of different construction than the dungeon, was definitely man-made.
Uthal slows his pace so that he ends up at the back of the group, thinking that any guard who catches up might hesitate a second to attack him alone.
Gronk in Bastion, Kingdom of Medrin Elixisys in Talaveroth (Team 2) Uthal in Lost Continent of Theviranne
Richter and Felix, a yellow slit-eyed Yuan-ti with disheveled black hair and full black oiled-leather armor and cloak, and a robed human with close-cropped brown hair and matching goatee, respectively, lead the party through a series of tunnels. It became obvious that the tunnels were in fact the sewers of Cathaan, apparent by the grooved water ways, occasion pipe dumping thick liquids, and general smell of ammonia. Eventually the later dispersed after climbing several short ladders and ascending/descending staircases.
The journey ended after approximately a half-hour, by anyone's best guess, of traversing the winding tunnels. The room you all have reached is of the same construction of the sewer tunnels, with walls arching up to meet at the center of the rounded ceiling. On one side of the room is a bar, with a hairy individual, full beard and scraggly brown hair, standing behind it. The room is otherwise filled with round wooden tables, and a variety of individuals sitting around them. The only light in the room comes from a series of lanterns about the bar counter and on each of the round tables.
Richter points to an open table "Make yourself at home. I'll get you all something to calm the nerves, then we can speak." Richter then pulls Atal with him, as he walks toward the scraggly individual behind the bar counter.
Anearis was feeling calmer now that they had seemingly escaped the mansion. This had been a very long day for him and it had started to take its toll.
He looked around the establishment before going to sit at the table with the rest of the group.
"Where are we? What is this place?"
He asked the rest of the group.
Looking around the room Uthal now feels much more conscious of the fact that he's wearing very little, with the guards having taken all his things. He contents himself with sitting with his back to a wall and glaring at anyone who looks his way too long.
Gronk in Bastion, Kingdom of Medrin Elixisys in Talaveroth (Team 2) Uthal in Lost Continent of Theviranne
"It's a tavern, though one you can consider a sanctuary, for the time being." Felix had walked over to the table with the group, but never sat down or even looked at them. Even as he spoke, responding abruptly, to Anearis's inquiries, his attention was focused more on something else in the crowd of others spread around the place. He left the table, and disappeared into the sea of patrons.
((Atal, the solid metal ring, pair of jewel earrings, bronze button, and goblet have been removed from your inventory as having been turned over to Richter, and he in turn gave them to the shaggy bartender. He allowed you to keep the rest.))
Both Richter and Atal returned to the party's table, tankards in hand, setting them on the table for the rest. Richter kicked up his feet onto the table's surface and leaned back in one of the chairs. "So the city's a little chaotic right now. Now I don't know if I'm saying it's something you caused, but it likely had to do with whatever was going on down under the Baron's estate." Richter spoke in between drinks, and turned to Anearis "However, what's on my mind is how one of the royal's companions came to join this little group of misfits." Turning to Atal "Especially after he knocked you out for them to capture."
Anearis looked at Richter with barely contained anger in his eyes. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He rose from his chair, suddenly.
"Let me make things perfectly clear before you start throwing wild accusations. Whatever was happening down there, I have no implications with. In fact, you keep calling me dandy or royal, when I have only gotten to Cathaan today. I have been employed by a merchant with good relations with the baron’s family to act as his valet. But what of you? Since you seem to know Atal, I assume you were all part of the same group of thieves. What were you doing snooping around the mansion? Please, explain me."
Richter tossed back the remainder of his cup, and smiled. ”We were robbing it, of course. I thought that was obvious.” He looked over at Uthal. “Was that not obvious? We werent exactly dressed for the formal occasion.” Richter looked over his shoulder combing the scene, and finding Felix. He watched for a few moments before turning back to the group.
“We were hired to get Softie here,” he says nodding towards Uthal, ”into the premises, and part of the payment came from whatever goods we could assist in relinquishing from that heavy burden of wealth that the Baron is forced to bare.”
Richter looks over the drinks on the table, and picks up another, likely intended to have been meant for Felix. “I can see how being a valet justifies your presence AT the mansion and I may even believe your ‘royal assistance’ was due to your fresh-off-the-boat naivety, but that far from excuses the outfit...dandy.” Richter laughs at his own humor, and gulps down the drink. “And who was this merchant? Your employer.”
"His name is Solomon Sinclair.
He was hoping this would provoke some sort of reaction to Richter. Something to shut him up perhaps.
He lent me this outfit so that I could blend in at the Baron’s estate. I arrived with my own clothes.
He took a deep breath in order to calm himself down. He sat back down, still irritated by Richter’s mockery and accusations.
Richter spat out some of the drink, almost choking, but once clearing his lungs, it turned into wild laughter. "Fortunus, the Archmeister. Well, I guess that proves he really IS blind." Richter laughed wildly, slapping the table with his cup, causing several others from surrounding tables to look his way, including Felix, who came back to join the party at the table.
"The Guard of the Watch is being rounded up, well what's left of them. Looks like whatever happened beneath the mansion fell under suspicion of the Kingdom's Right Hand. Several royal members and their personal guard have fled the city. It's under martial law of the Right Hand." Richter's demeanor, changed suddenly, his laughter and smile fading into a more serious tone now. "And conveniently enough they couldn't care less about the burgarly. Instead, they're looking for our two stowaways for questioning." Felix pointed to Anearis and Ander. "For their connections with Lady Zelda and Sir Anton." Richter turned towards Ander "I was wondering when we'd get around to your involvement. I assume through a series of coincidental circumstances, you also just found yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time?"
"I was just here for the tourney. Sir Anton invited me to the manor for tonight's feast. Turned out he was trying to lure me in for some dark ritual. Seems the Berossus clan have been reincarnating their dead in new bodies, somehow. Some kind of foul sorcery. Luckily they stuck me in the same room as him." Ander jabs a thumb at Uthal.
"Lucky that all you newcomers still aren't used to what it takes to survive here. The fools built there cell too weak." Uthal looks over at Ander. "Though this one proved his worth in a fight. He was quick and fought well for one restrained."
Gronk in Bastion, Kingdom of Medrin Elixisys in Talaveroth (Team 2) Uthal in Lost Continent of Theviranne
"Or they just didn't anticipate holding a behemoth." Richter laughed at his response to Uthal, but was cut short by Felix. "Preparing you for a ritual? That would likely explain the ink," he responded, eyeing Ander. He then removed a small leather book and ink from beneathe his robes, jotting down something as he switched his gaze between Ander's face and the book's pages. Richter joined in. "Your face." He circled his hand in the air, directly aligned with Ander's face, as if trying everything possible to drive home Felix's point, even though it likely didn't need to be explained further. "It has scribbles all over it. Looks fresh, though I doubt you did it yourself." Richter sat upright and over-exaggerated a stretch of his arms and back. "Seems like we got you out of there just in time. Like you owe us a life debt for saving you from becoming one of those things."
"That's something that can be saved for later. I recommend we get ears on the streets." Richter one again was forced to leave his jovial and playful manner in order to address serious matters that he knew he needed to, even if he didn't want to. "I agree, send them out, but more importantly we need someone to find out what more they can about the Right Hand's investigation. Someone in the guard that would've been kept on, one of the squires or scribes maybe."
"I suppose you're right. I'll lend my sword if you need it, but if you want me to be any help I'll need to get my gear."
Richter nodded to Felix who acknowledged and left the table. “Well we know the big man’s stuff is either still back down in the dungeon, or eventually moved to the Watch Barracks depending on how fast they decide to collect what’s down there. Since neither of you two can exactly be seen up top, where are you housing your equipment?” Richter asked, addressing Anearis and Ander, once again.
‘’I left my pack at Master Solomon’s shop. Which I don’t know if I should be returning to actually. What if he is in on it? What if he’s part of this cult?’’
A look of worry grew on the elf’s face. He didn’t know who to trust anymore.
"Wherever they keep the wounded men from the tourney. My squire should be watching it. Donovan. Tell him I won't be rejoining the events."
"Whether or not the Archmeister is involved with the current dealings will be no problem to discover. Either way however, your things from his shop should be a relatively easy lift." Richter shifts his attention from Anearis to Ander. "You however, will require some investigation, since they just take the injured back to their tents to either be cared for back to health, or to die. This Donovan though, we'll find him and see where they took you. Might even have been the Guard Barracks considering the favor you had culled with the Watch Commander himself. Actually..." Richter looked upward towards the ceiling but not at it, more like he was attempting to see his mind play out a mental process only visible to him. "...that'd make a quite a bit of sense, and may be convenient for us, if that's where we can find your squire."
Richter finished his drink, and then quickly tossed back the remaining of a random third cup on the table, as he stood up. "For now, and I cannot stress this enough, do NOT leave this room. It will take some time to make preparations, but being as each of you are either completely wrapped up in, or suspected of being, the biggest threat to ever hit this city, we'll need to get you out of here."
((At this time, everyone can take a long rest, if you so desire.))
Atal shuffles back over to the group, drink in hand, and looking a little less pale in the face, though still as beat up as he was before. He flops down in a chair next to the others and nurses his drink with a groan.
"Now that was a day that dosen't bear repeating," he says to the others, toasting their continued survival. "So let me get this straight... we've still got a few things to clean up before this mess will stop clinging to us like a piece of dirty toilet paper on a shoe, huh?" He opens his mouth to continue, then spies Uthal in all his native glory. Wincing, he takes out the fine clothes he stole from his pack, and sifts through them until he finds one big enough. He hucks it towards Uthal's face.
"Put some clothes on, man, my eyes are begging you." As he considers the other three sets of livery, he grins, then hucks one set at Ander, and the other at Anaeris. "And you two... take a set each. I've got the feeling these are going to come in handy very soon. We need to recover your things, right?" Atal leans forward, looking at Richter. "I've got some skill with creating disguises... and with forging papers. If you can get me in touch with some materials, between these fancy outfits and my talents, I think we could likely get even Ander and Anearis topside without attracting too much attention. They'll be looking for desperate men on the run, not groomed, arrogant nobles wanting to know why martial law is preventing them from visiting their favourite drinking and whoring establishments. You'll blend right in with the rest of the upset bourgeois."
On hearing Ander mention his squire, Donovan, Atal's face falls. Part of his mind replays the screams of the young fellow they'd bound up in the banners, the one he was pretty sure had ended up dead. Because of me, he thinks, biting the inside of his cheek. "Donovan? Was that the kid who took you to the gates?" he asks Ander. "If this Right Hand is what I think it is, your kid's going to be locked up tighter than you were, since you're a wanted man right now. It might not be a bad thing... he's probably safer with them than he is out there on his own. But that's likely gonna be a problem... unless you don't want to rescue him."
Atal is only too happy to listen to Richter's plan... every part of him feels like a gigantic bruise, and trancing seems like it would be a most welcome rest for him. He pauses, looking at the others. I wonder, he thinks to himself. Then, with a shrug, Nah. They'll figure it out. Carefully adjusting his clothing and armor, he settles down to Trance, eager to relive through memories of happier times.
Atal ((To play catch up, for what happened when Richter pulled you over to the bar upon coming back here))
Upon Atal presented the ‘spoils’ of what was collected during the burglary, Richter laid it out on the counter. The bartender looked it over and removed several items of value, leaving the rest for Atal to take back. “Whatever the fence doesn’t want isn’t considered of value to the Guild itself. Yours to pawn or do what you wish. Regarding these..” Richter used the tip of his dagger to pick up a pair of the ladies undergarments. “In our circles at least, the Baron has been suspected of being ‘of the life-style’, so to speak. All of the skivvies, male and female, likely belong to him. But I do like your style, elfie. Come to think of it,” He looks over at the rest of the party, “Softie’s name will stick but being as you’re no longer the only elf, we may need a new one for you.”
Upon Richter seeing the coin Atal located within the Baron’s room, expressions of both concern and intrigue were visible on his face. “A less civilized tool, from a less civilized time.” He seemed to mutter this statement more for himself, than for you, even though it was clear enough to hear. He uses one of the undergarments to wrap up the coin. “This is something that’ll mean nothing here, but could be considered a threat in other regions. It’s a Black Spot, though more appropriately a black mark on the reputation of the Theviranne Thieves Guilds. The Thieves Guilds — oh welcome to the guild by the way” Richter quickly but nonchalantly interjects into his own speech, “the guilds were once united as one organization. The Black Spot was what fractured them into what they are today. It was a tool used for carrying out assassinations of the Guild’s own members. Be careful if you go to other parts of the land. The Black Spot is a forgotten relic here in Cathaan, but the wounds it caused are still fresh with others.”
The bartender returned with several mugs of ale, which Richter gleefully gathered some, and proceeded to the rest of the party, as if completely forgetting that he just dropped a morbid bombshell of a warning about the organization’s dark past.