Blair would let out a happy hum when her excitement was met with equal enthusiasm from Ace. She’d watch the performers snap to it from the mans orders and couldn’t help but indulge in the initial burst of adrenaline that came with the realization that she was about to perform again. It felt like it’s been forever since she’s had the opportunity to perform for more than a couple patrons at a time. The redhead would beam, allowing herself to feel some positivity. Bea would be so proud. And with that, she’d bounce over, hopping into the seat Ace patted.

Murph does cast disguise self on himself to make him look like a short human guard, nondescript. He tests out the earpieces, and prepares his tools in case they need to pick the lock.

Disguise: 10

Dart and Murph, with Dagmar's careful strokes, you reach the bottom of the large sandstone pillar about five minutes later. Having gotten closer, you can make out a small iron ring hammered into the cliffside, and you quickly lash your small boat to the ring, before getting out onto the narrow landing steps, hammered directly out of the sandstone and slick with spray and algae. A knotted rope serves as a handhold on your left, as you slowly make your way up the narrow staircase, one after another, until you reach the small sally port door. You're all acutely aware, that you're in full view of anyone who cared to look your way, but you remind yourself to remain as calm and collected as possible. Once you reach the door, Murph, who led the procession, quickly gets down on one knee to pick the lock on the door. Dart, what are you doing in the meantime?

Blair, Ramshackle wooden tenements, taverns, and shops crowd both sides of the arched stone spans, leaning out over the narrow road between them. Even more cling to the sides of the bridges, anchored to each other or cantilevered over the water. The tendency of these latter structures to occasionally drop into the rushing river, pulling their neighbors down with them, is not enough to deter residents who hope to be the first to sell to travelers on their way into the city, or the last to pick their pockets on the way out.

Even among members of the Outer City, residents of Wyrm’s Crossing have a reputation as rakes and riffraff, and the neighborhood specializes in seedy dive bars and gambling halls where belligerent drunks can be ejected directly out over the river. At the same time, it also has a large and tight-knit strongheart halfling community, whose low-ceilinged tenements and lighter weight are perfect for the neighborhood’s precarious architectural style. Many of them cheerfully greet the pacing caravan of halfling performers and their fiery lady, all to happy to see some welcome excitement in these rather harsh times of civil war and occupation.

As you approach the fortress in the middle of the crossing, you see that the waggons, carts and travellers are all blocked up, as everyone seems to be getting controlled by the Fist, before being allowed into or out of the city. It looks like you could be waiting here a while. Blair, what yould you like to do?

Murph lockpick check: 11

He seems to be having some difficulty and asks Dart for some help, if he can manage it... 23

At the sight of the bottleneck, Blair’s lip moves into a playful pout from the delay. “D’awe, is someone being a wet blanket and trying to snuff out our performance before it starts!?” She’d muse out loud with a giggle so Murph and the others could hear her through the connection. “Didn’t think we’d have so many fans!” The redhead would chime with a wink as she’d hop up in her seat to try to get a better vantage point. Up on her tip toes, she’d scan from where she can before slipping off to do a little investigating herself. 

I keep an eye on our surroundings as best as I’m able in the diminishing light. Providing help to Murph when he asks for it. “No you should hold your tools like this see...”

Down Below: 

Taking your time with the tools, you carefully insert them a second time, trying to steady your hand. It's only a few more moments when the tumblers click into place and the door creaks open, allowing you all to quickly rush inside.

Within, the doorway continues as narrow as the steps outside were for about ten feet, before starting to climb in a winding staircase. Moving carefully up the steps, you emerge in a  ten-foot-wide, thirty-foot-long corridor with a flat ceiling ten feet overhead. The north end of the hall ends at a wooden door. You can make out a flickering light under the door, and as you carefully aproach, you can hear steps and voices from the other side.

What would you like to do?

Up top:
Getting into a vantage point, Blair can easily see that the edge of the bridge leading over to Wyrm's Rock is only about a hundred yards from their current position, but the entire bridge can only be crossed by one vehicle at a time, after the guards, from the looks of it six of them, search the vehicles and animal drivers. You can see one of the fists with a half-coat carrying a paper slip, but you can't quite make out what is on the slip from where you are currently. 

You here some of the tradesmen and farmers around you are starting to clamour for the guards to hurry up the searches, since they need to make sure to get their goods and profits back home in time.

What would you like to do?

I slowly and cautiously approach the door, trying to hear what’s being said and determine how many people are on the other side of it. 

Murph whispers through the earpiece, "Inside. Navigating hallways, room of people." Pauses, speaking to Dart through the earpiece again. "Listening's good; should we then keep up charade and pretend to be guards?" He keeps up, slowly and quietly behind Dart, trying to get closer to listen.

Stealth: 28
Perception: 19

Blair would purse her lips from the growing impatience gumming up the works even more. She’d pat her nose in thought, wondering if there’s anything she could do to help move things along. After some thought, she’d shrug to herself and decide to see if she could do a little sweet talking. The redhead would fix herself up, primping her hair and adjusting her outfit to enhance some assets before striding off towards the commotion. 

With a sweet smile Blair would interject herself into a group of tradesmen. She’d engage them in conversation by first asking them about themselves, eventually moving the topic around to what the problem was. The woman would sympathize, batting her eyelashes as she’d explain that she was scheduled to perform and this would have her running late. She’d glance down with a hopeless expression of defeat before looking back up through her lashes. With more hopeful eyes, she’d propose that maybe there was a way they could work together to help make things more efficient. There could be mutual benefit. Perhaps there was an assembly line approach they could take. She’d propose that he work with the other tradesmen while she’d go butter up some guards.

Murph, you hear no response to your staccato report. Listening attentively for the voices on the other side of the door, you can make out two distinct voices:

"...slow- cook it for around twenty minutes, until the stew is thick. But you need to make sure that you stir well, else the onions and garlic burn, leaving you with a bitter aftertaste."
"That right? Who'da guessed, Rhys, the cook! Ha!"
"What? You asked! And then let me go on about the recipe for ten minutes!"
"Yeh, an' honestly, hard ta hold the laughs back man! What, you wear a little apron when yer cookin?"
"Clint, you're an idiot."

It doesn't seem like either of them have heard you in the corridor. Dagmar is doing his best to be as quiet as he can still a bit down on the winding steps.


Topside:
Blair, you see that some of the merchants relax as you approach, and listen to you. When asked what the issue is, you hear three variations of the same story- since the Empress was set ablaze in the harbour, the Fist ordered the city on lockdown, with strict controls on who entered and who left. Apparently, they were after a gnome or a halfling, the accounts seemed to conflict.

When you try to make it clear to the merchants, that you need to head out of town to your new performance, some give you a sympathetic look, but you hear from two farmers with milk in the back of their cart exclaim that they needed to get home just as urgently. At this moment, you see one of the Fists look over and shout: "Keep it down, we'll get to ya in time. You're fault for harberin' futigives... fugi-... rebels. Now shut it an' let us do our checks!"

"Hmmm..." Blair would nip her lip and pop up on her tip toes to take a good look at the guards, trying to get a bit of a read on them.

Insight: 23

Whispering quietly to Murph, “Well, sounds like there’s two of them and there’s two of us. Should we pretend we are relieving them of their shift? Or pretend we are escorting a prisoner?” I jerk my thumb back at Dagmar  at the word prisoner. (Just an idea. Open to other ideas if you have any Murph)

Murph whispers back, "aren't we waiting for a distraction? If not, we can try your idea, and I can keep the option of charming one of them in a back pocket."

He comes in on the earring: "How's it looking, Blair? Think the show's a go?"

Blair, it looks to you as if the soldiers are starting to get worried about the increasingly angry crowd before them. You see one of the scrawnier and younger Fists looking back to the guard house as if to call for reinforcements.

Murph, you get no answer from Blair, though Dart hears you clear enough. 

Arcana: 4

Murph, you realise that the stones are enchanted with a variation of a message cantrip and that the solid stone above and around you might be blocking the spell from allowing you to communicate with Blair at this moment. Backtracking out of the door and back onto the landing steps would only take a few minutes though...

Murph will do that and repeat his message, listen, then come back in to rejoin Dart.

Blair, in the middle of the crowd, you suddenly hear your earpiece crackle into action and you hear Murph's voice:

"How's it looking, Blair? Think the show's a go?"

"Always so hasty, and so pushy..." Blair's hands find her hips as she let's out an exasperated breath. She'd close her eyes for a moment. When she opens them, her face resets and she relaxes her arms.

Blair would reach into her outfit. She'd pluck a pen from it's hiding place, tear a corner of parchment from some on her person and write something on it before tucking in into the front of her shirt. Then with firm footsteps and a natural sway, assets bounce as the redhead strides up to the young Fist with an inviting smile. Blair would walk her hands up the guards chest then run a finger up his neck before tilting his face up to her from where he found himself looking. Green hues would lock on him through her eyelashes. "Darling, if you're looking for trouble, I can help." She'd stand real close, raising a knee as she'd step gently and lean in to the guard. Blair smelled like hot cinnamon. "The pressure of the situation's constricting, isn't it?" She'd pause to exhale a breath, allowing the tension of the situation to build before breaking her silence.

"You and I both know who and what you're looking for isn't anywhere in that line up." There was a matter of factness to her voice, but also a hint of play that danced on her lips. "How about you get things moving along so we can get what we both want, hmm?" The redhead would then pluck the piece of parchment from its warm resting place, holding it up between two fingers. "Deal or no deal, darling?" She'd nip her lip.