Shaggar considers the halfling's words. It is remotely possible that a second team was at work in the museum when the Neversword did his work. If so, it changed matters somewhat... and not for the better. Regardless, the gnoll ranger springs on the halfling and secures him with a vice-like clawed grip around his slender neck. "Understand me clearly, small one. You are entangled in a plot to frame me for thievery and murder. I don't like that. If you resist or inconvenience me, I'll be inclined to pay you in the coin of my people for such a betrayal. Be satisfied, the worst punishments of the Ruby Prince would be better for you."
Lyrian is content to wait. Those sounds could indicate that the chase continues. When they stop, -then- he'll go investigate.
As the group interviews the Neversword, Heldar makes his way calmly across the camel barrier, even greeting the camel herder with a big smile - "Amazing... Pack of animals you have here friend" - and then looks for some stairs that will give him access up top to meet with his companions.
As he arrives, his smile his truly huge - "I have been told more than once that going around wrapped in all this metal would be the death of me... Fortunately you, my friends, are a sight to be seen - even from behind camel arses, the teamwork was absolutely extraordinary" - he compliments them all - "As I am sure our halfling wannabe friend can attest" - he nods at their captive.
Noticing the massive shape of Shaggar pinning the small one down, he adds - "I am assuming the conversation has not been as productive as we expected?"
The halfling doesn't resist Shaggar's mighty arms, looking at them like he's judging how easily they could pop his skull.
"Pax pax pax! Peace! Your teeth are very scary, my friend, truly!"
Heldar (and Hatyah) comes up onto the rooftop to see the gnoll has firmly wrapped his arms around the halfling, who smiles around at everyone as if to say, wow I'm no threat at all, please don't pop off my skull.
"Oh no, we can talk, talking seems like a splendid idea to me! I don't care for dying-- tried it once, didn't agree with me, not ready to give it another go just yet.
"What would you like to know, good sirs? And madam, of course..."
Now that he's not running around rooftops, you all have a good view of the halfling up close. He's brown-skinned, black-haired, black-eyed; gold glints at his ears, as well as in his top-knot. Closer inspection reveals the ring of his topknot is actually a scavenged gear of some sort-- and the vest he wears now (you don't think he had it on at the auction, yesterday) is likewise covered with three-or-four dozen gears, springs, cogs, and other tiny mechanical devices-- they appear to be sewn to the fabric of his vest, as some sort of artistic statement rather than meant as practical use. His hands are heavily scarred and callused, and a broad scar runs on his throat from ear-to-ear, but his grin seems unabated.
Rosalia resists her incredibly strong urges to kick the halfling in the face a few times for sending them on this ring-a-rosie chase and all the other nonsense he'd gotten them wrapped up in. She is nevertheless pleased that her spell was effective, and takes out her foul mood by whipping out her journal and jotting down a few notes before questioning the little bugger.
"Oh, I have quite a few for you," she says finally, flipping to a blank page and getting ready to take notes from their "interview".
"One: Why steal all that junk, and why try and pin it on us?"
"Two: Where's the mask?"
"Three: Who are you working with? The Chelaxian? Someone else? You can't have pulled that heist off alone."
As Rosalia begins her interview, Javi takes a few moments to slow his breathing, hands on his knees. Then he begins a very methodical search of the halfling while listening for any deceptions or half-truths.
After a few minutes of inactivity, Lyrian grows bored (as he is wont to do) and heads back in the direction he came, eventually returning to the group.
The halfling doesn't seem terribly upset at having been captured, although he does seem unhappy with his proximity to Shaggar's armpits with their gnollish musk. Gods help him!
"Point the first: junk?! Why, I think there's proud Osiriani who would object to your labeling their fine cultural artifacts as such, madam. Given the price the canopic jars fetched, I would say definitely not junk. Which answers your question: I nicked them for coin, of course. If you're going to steal from a famous museum, it might as well be worth your time..."
He shrugs, or tries to, as Shaggar's steely arms encircling him make the gesture rather a moot point.
" 'Why' is also fairly simple: I was hired to. Nothing personal. All's fair in love and tomb-robbing, or so I'm told.
"The mask is.... ah, well, your colleague has it now," the thief sighs, with a nod of his chin at Javi, who has just freed a small rucksack from the halfling's shoulder and fished out what looks to be... a mask of gleaming gold, topped with red-and-black feathers. "Pretty, isn't it? But I wouldn't say it's worth the cost I was paid to snatch it. I suppose beauty's in the eye of the beholder, and all that-- and may I say, madam, that you look rather stunning when drawing upon the arcane arts...?"
At the look that Rosalia no doubt turns on him, the halfling clears his throat and keeps talking.
"I also object to the idea that I can't have pulled off that heist alone-- I certainly could have-- but-- you have the truth of it, all the same. I was hired by the Chelaxian gent. Name of Julistar. Three cheers for Asmodeus and House Thrune, and so forth, if you're Chelaxian, which I'm not. Not a good country to be a halfling in, eh?"
For what it's worth, Javi, he seems too blithely unconcerned with his situation to be really lying-- perhaps he's not taking it anywhere near as seriously as he should be, but he seems to be telling the truth to you.
[Having dreamed that he handled a very similar situation already, Lyrian will hang back and see how his new companions handle it.]
Javi hands the mask to Heldar as he gives a few choice halfling curses at the comment of halflings and Cheliax, then looks up as he continues rifling through the halfing’s pockets, bags, or any fold in his clothes that look like it could secret something away. ”The Chelaxian. Julistar? He’s he man from the auction who inspected the scrolls we bought? And once stolen, what were you hired to do with the mask?”
"Take it to him, of course," the thief says as if that should be self-evident.
"--oh, come on, are you trying to take all of my toys? You're a cruel, cruel chap-- I bet you're the one who took my key too, aren't you?"
Javi... this guy has things hidden everywhere. You go through and find the following items on his person, as you take the time to conduct a thorough search:
-Three other daggers, tucked into boots and belts;
-A thin needle that was hidden in his top-knot; it seems to tingle your finger with a tiny shock when you carefully remove it;
-The leather strap of a sling, wrapped around his wrist;
-A hidden pocket sewn onto his breeches that contains ten slingstones;
-Several bulbs of garlic tied on a leather cord around his neck, tucked beneath his clothes;
-Worked into the gears and springs on his vest, the thin wires and picks of a masterwork thieves' tools set;
-Four small but tightly-sealed bottles; three of them seem to have liquid of some sort in them, the fourth rattles as if a small stone or coin or similar were placed inside
-A flask of holy water, its wax cork stamped with a symbol of Saranrae;
-A glass cutter;
-and a partridge in a pear tree, I mean, a set of carved bone dice.
None of these items are magical, though should someone detect magic, his belt radiates magic (and looks kind of like your belt, Javi). His leather vest is of very nice make, but isn't magical.
Additionally! The rucksack you took off him has, besides the mask the jewelry missing from the museum (the amulets and the pectoral), and of course there is the khopesh sword he was trying to sell as well.
The halfling has a number of coins in a pouch inside the rucksack-- 450 GP worth.
A growl rumbles from Shaggar's throat at the halfling's tone. He runs a claw lightly across the thief's hairline. "You haven't seen cruel yet. I owe you much for casting me as a thief and murderer. Did you do that on your own or were you told to do it?"
Rosalia finishes dotting the i's and crossing the t's on her notes of their "interview" thus far with the Neversword before giving his gear a cursory look-over (on the magical plane, of course). Any more failed hit-ons based on her magical prowess will result in a firm kick to the crotch, pulled back at the last moment--and her steel-capped boots will surely assure the perverted halfling that this is his last warning.
"Tell me more about Julistar. Why did he hire you? Why did he want this stuff in particular?" She purses her lips and looks down at the halfling. "Why would you be selling this stuff if he wanted you to steal it?"
Heldar watches the exchange mostly in silence, but with a smile that does not seem to vanish from his face, proud of the efficiency of the group's approach to this tiny outlaw - the combination of actions between Rosalia's questioning, Shaggar's control of the halfling, and Javi's thorough search of their captive producing spectacular results.
He also observes him intently, trying to gather the truthfulness of his words.
"--oh, come on, are you trying to take all of my toys? You're a cruel, cruel chap-- I bet you're the one who took my key too, aren't you?”
Javi gives his fellow halfling a half-grin. ”If I know thieves, they pretty much only reveal what they have to at any given time. Thieves who think they’re clever are worse,” Javi’s look makes it all to plain whether or not the Neversword falls into that second category. ”How much of this stuff,” he indicates the garlic, the bottles, and the holy water specifically, ”did you buy specifically for this job for the Chelaxian?”
The halfling squirms with a grimace at Shaggar's claw trailing along his skin.
"You've Julistar to thank for the set-up. He was annoyed you people snagged the scrolls. Never wise to anger a man who commands devils, don't you know?"
He shrugs at Rosalia's further questions, as best he can.
"He's a priest of Asmodeus and he wants to get into a famous pyramid, what else is there to know? A big deal back in Cheliax, I hear. He hired me to provide my skills to his expedition-- lifting objects, tailing rivals, and ultimately to be his trap-breaker once he gets into the crypt. Nobody's better at a lock or a rigged chest than me, nobody.
"And I've told you. He wanted the mask; the rest, I snagged because the chance was there and coin is coin. Besides, you take just one thing and everyone wants to know why that. A little smoke for a fire, no?"
Javi's question makes him widen his eyes, then laugh aloud, even while he's still wrapped in the gnoll's confining grip. "Why, none of it. I travel with such things as a matter of course. And so would you, if you'd ever been to Ustalav."
He cranes his head back to show the long scar on his throat again-- while it looks like a knife cut, there's ragged scars beneath that might conceal the scars of a bite mark.
Heldar and Rosalia, you feel that the halfling is being... perhaps surprisingly truthful, really. You have a feeling that there might be more to his relationship with the Chelaxian than the 'merely business' angle he depicts-- there's a tiny note of hardness to his otherwise glib tones when he speaks of the priest of Asmodeus-- but you've yet to feel he's told you any outright lies. The basics-- that the Chelaxian hired him for his expertise with traps, and to steal the mask, and that he took the opportunity to snag the rest-- all seem to be true enough.
"Look, I know I'm caught fair and square and the caught thief can make no requests, but are you planning to kill me? If so I need to start thinking about what I'm going to tell Pharasma this go around. And she's a hard lass to charm. Give a chap a sporting head start."
At the halfling's lock picking boast, Javi has to bite back a retort. He's barely able to control his ego with a shake of his head.
Javi stands back up, his face a look of humor and incredulity. "Anyway, I'm certainly not gonna kill you. And while you're not keeping what you stole from the museum, I'm not taking any of your other things."
He steps back, looking up briefly at Rosalia, Heldar, and Lyrian. "The man says he was paid to do a job. I'm inclined to believe him. Whether you want to turn him in or not is up to you." He shrugs at the halfling, "You did get caught." He looks back up at the pathfinders, "Though I'd suggest we try to take care of our other business before we head back to the museum... if thats the plan."
Shaggar shows no inclination to let the halfling go and he calls to Hatyah having her circle in close. "Name your accomplices and who decided to kill the guard?"
The Neversword gives Javi a polite tilt of his head (he would also give him a jaunty salute, if not for the fact that his arms are still pinned to his sides) and a wink. "You're a very gentleman, you are. If you tell me your preferred street-name I'll speak kindly of you to anyone I meet."
At Shaggar's growled order the thief grimaces, but nods.
"Julistar, as mentioned: 'boss' rather than accomplice. He's got seven or eight guardsmen, Chelish soldiers-- I can't say I ever knew their names-- and his personal bodyguard: Hrokon, a half-orc. Nasty piece of work, that one. And he's the answer to your second question. I don't care to kill guards-- theft and murder carry different punishments, in most lands-- but suffice to say it was not my wishes the brute was thinking of: he was disguised as you at the time, but I don't suppose that shocks you any.
"There's one other chap: a tall, skinny fellow with a twitchy face. Calls himself Scepter. Dunno his game, or much about him. He doesn't talk much. Just lurks around and sneers. Wouldn't even play a friendly game of dice with me."
Rosalia nods along with the Neversword's story, occasionally scribbling extra thoughts into her journal. Finally, she looks down at the halfling with a... well, not quite pleased expression, but at least not the vicious death-glares he's been receiving thus far. "I appreciate the information. I'd guessed some of this, but it certainly helps to have confirmation of my suspicions."
"It sounds like we may have some competition," she murmurs, underlining each of the names in her notes: Julistar. Hrokon. Scepter. "We seem to have made some enemies during the auction..."
Rosalia pauses a moment, her lips pursed. "Why didn't you outbid me at the auction-house for the Aucturn scrolls? I don't suppose Julistar was very happy that he didn't wind up snagging those things for a song."
"I am actually surprised you are so cooperative" - Heldar comments - "Do you not fear any retaliation from your employers if they found out you have provided us with all this information?"
The halfling gives another awkward shrug. (He would like to examine his fingernails in a sly fashion, but that's awkward when you can't lift your arms from a gnoll's firm embrace.)
"Julistar hadn't given me instructions to bid on the, what'd you call 'em, Aucturn scrolls," he says with a very small smile. "I couldn't go asking him if he wanted me to do so right in the middle of the auction, could I? Would have tipped his hand. Unless the client pays extra for my taking personal initiative, I don't offer it, see?"
He wriggles his shoulders again at Heldar's question.
"He's also not paying me for a good deal of silence. Way I figure it, you lot'll come to blows, and if you kill them, well, I've already gotten my pay, haven't I. And if they kill you, why, I helped him eliminate some rivals, didn't I? Of course, if you're planning on introducing yourselves with Hello! Our mutual handsome, charming, likeable, and endearing halfling acquaintance, the legendary Neversword, spilled his guts to us about you!-- why, then I might be in some trouble, but that'd be a rotten thing for you to do."
(He doesn't seem especially concerned with either option.)
"And if we let you go? You'll just report on us to this Julistar," says Lyrian. "Which we wouldn't like at all."
"Even if he tells Julistar that we captured him and took his stuff... it's not like Julistar doesn't already have a grudge against us, judging by his modus operandi," Rosalia counters back at the new member of their group. "We messed up his auction plans, and now we've messed up his plans with the..." she drifts off a moment, a sly smile crossing her face. "The mask. Indeed."
Rosalia draws away from the Neversword for a moment, gesturing any that are not busy holding him down to come close. In a hushed tone she says, "I just had a thought. Perhaps we can use this mask to our advantage. After all, we know this isn't the real deal."
"Perhaps we let our friend take this mask back to Julistar after all. He isn't going to get far with a glorified costume piece. We might even consider following him back and giving the lot of them a bit of a talking-to to, er, discourage them from proceeding."
Javi gives Shaggar a look to make sure he has the halfling well in-hand, then he heads over to the whispered conversation.
He listens to Rosalia as he watches the Neversword, frowning with a small shake of his head. "I don't know that I like that idea. We've been a step behind this whole time, and we might have just caught our first break. I'm more comfortable assuming Julistar knows it's a fake."
He shrugs, "I'd much prefer to see if we can convince ole Neversword here to skip town, then continue on our current plans. Hopefully the disappearance of their sneak will set them back a few hours... which we can use to nab what we're really after and skip town ourselves. I don't care to discourage the other team, but i sure as the scorching sands am going to win this little game we're all playing."
Once more the halfling offers his signature, if somewhat-impeded, shrug, at Lyrian's words.
"Bit of a dilemma, isn't it?" he says as if this were somehow not his problem and didn't really affect him. (It's possible he's not entirely right in the head.)
He looks up to Shaggar. "Oi, while you sort out what you're going to do to me or with me or whatever, can I sit down? Getting a crick in my neck looking up at you all."
Down at street level, a few of the market guardsmen are looking up your way, but none of them seem predisposed to start climbing up to the rooftops after the lot of you, when you haven't done anything wrong. No law against chasing someone through the bazaar! But the guards are within earshot if you felt the need to yell at them.
Javi considers while the group is quiet, ”I don’t really care about returning the stuff to the museum.” He pauses and looks over to the gnoll who looks completely uninterested in the pinned halfling’s comfort. ”… then again, it’s not my rep on the line. So in my mind, that’s up to Shaggar. His decision will dictate whether or not we go track down what our Neverbored here has already sold.”
Javi looks back at the group, his voice remaining too low for the other thief to easily hear, ”We have what we need from Neverwin." He seems intensely happy with his running nickname word-game, "The priority to me is the key. We get that and get outta town.” His face splits in a wide, excited grin, ”And we might be abel to do it before ole Julistar realizes we’ve nicked his goods, if you know what I mean.”
"We can't exactly stuff our little friend here in a closet," says Lyrian. "He'd be out in a flash. And we have to assume he'll tell anything he knows to this Julistar character. I vote we let him go."
Lyrian looks at the halfling. "If I see you again after this, you'll wish I'd just let Shaggar kill you. There won't be a chase and a fair fight."
"I think the Docent would be happy enough to get 90% of his stuff back," Rosalia says with an apathetic shrug. "I vote we go get the real mask and then high-tail it out of here, possibly with a brief stop to dump this crap back at the museum."
Heldar listens to all the input, considering the best approach - "Well... Our mission was one when we began, but now it has gained another dimension. I think making right with the Arch-Docent should be on top of the list, immediately after acquiring the true mask. So I am in agreement with Rosalia, with but a single question - why not turn in our friend here to the authorities? I am all in favour of putting up a good word for him, since he has been more than cooperative with important information"
Pondering for a moment, he continues - "It would buy us some time to move in on the true mask, without risking that he goes straight from here to warn this Julistar character. We would, at the same time, confirm that we are indeed cooperating with the authorities, by returning what we have found, perhaps allowing us some more leeway. With him in custody, and the authorities informed we are following an additional lead, we could then go about addressing Julistar regarding the borrowing of the item we need?"
Javi shakes his head, "Shaggar may want to clear his name—and understandably so—but there isn't anything for us to make right with the Arch-Docent. Quietly leaving whatever stolen items we have in the museum with a note as we leave town with the real mask is being more than kind to that blow-hard."
He pauses and looks at the Neversword. "As for turning the thief in... I think it's more trouble than it's worth. If we try to turn him in, we'll have to stick around and answer questions. We'll lose time—which we've already seen can mean losing opportunities—and word WILL get out. If Julistar is worth his salt at all, he'll catch wind that we've got his thief... or he'll at least realize that something went wrong with the Neverfloored's attempts. He'll enact other plans. Which means we're playing catch-up again. Way I see it, we got this one shot to be out in front of the action. We need to move on the real mask now. I say we convince the Nevergourd to leave town... immediately. If he refuses, or we think he's lying, we strip him naked and hang him from the Beetle's rooftop while we take the mask. We skip town and head straight for the tomb by the quickest path."
He shrugs, "It's what I'd do, anyway."
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Shaggar yips a command at Hatyah who stops and stares at the halfling, a thin trail of drool hanging from her jaw. The gnoll lightens his grip on the halfling's body and settles for grasping the thief's small skull in his clawed hand. "With the Neversword's chalk-scrawled confession, I'm no longer a suspect perhaps." He bends down and turns the thief's head to meet his flat, crimson eyes.
His words are weighty and scrupulously honest. "My people are quite simple when it comes to crime and punishment. For framing me: death. For using trickery to do it: death. Our creativity is limited to the type of death you suffer. Using wizardry to mimic me entitles me to wrench open your delicate skull and devour your brain while you scream." He muses on the image a moment, "But I'm trying hard to mend my ways. I'd rather not feast on your skull-candy. But, you've inconvenienced us and could bring more trouble... I can't have that. So, here's my offer. You will keep your life and your goods, save the chalk you used in the museum. That is mine. The khopesh, mask, and anything else you haven't sold - we'll see them returned to the museum. For our generosity, you will take a vacation from Sothis for a month. You won't speak with the demon-worshipper or anyone else about what's happened here. You won't seek to profit from what you know of us. And you won't cause us anymore trouble. Agreed? Or do I feed your grapes to Hatyah? She has never tasted halfling flesh before."
He adds, as an after-thought, "I won't speak the obvious - what happens if you betray this understanding. I'll just say, you won't suffer it alone. I'm very good at finding people - friends, family, lovers, and colleagues."
The halfling's brows arch.... arch.... and arch... until they're nearly up to his eyebrows by the time Shaggar finishes his delightful promise of what happens unless he does as Shaggar suggests.
When Shaggar finally finishes, the halfling swallows visibly, face gone pale beneath his brown suntan. A bead of sweat runs down his sharp features.
"Sir is most generous. A gentleman among gnolls, truly, may I commend you on your excellent g-grooming and the striking patterns of your fur? And your wisdom in setting such clement terms? I'll be on my way, sirs, and lady-- I assure you he's not paying me enough to cover Hazards of 'Grape' Devouring by Hyenas, that would be extra-- I'll trouble you no more, for the wise thief knows when to run away and seek easier quarry, eh? Eh?"
The halfing picks up his numerous small pointy objects and starts stuffing them back into hidden pockets and so forth. "Very kind, most kind, I wish you all luck in your game, you're much nicer than Julistar--"
He keeps nervously babbling all the way to the roof's edge, where he prepares to climb back down. Before he goes over, he says, "A word of advice--! The rangy fellow, Scepter-- he's got some sort of weapon, I don't know what it does. Never seen its like before. Sort of an odd, long stick with metal bits. He's got magic wands lashed to it, that much I could tell. Best of luck!"
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The thief's agreement gotten, Shaggar releases the little man and brushes the dust off him. "It is kind of you to not test my changing heart, sayyid. And thank you for the information." He glances ruefully at Hatyah, "Sorry, girl, no halfling for you today."
With the halfling sent on his way and most of the stolen goods recovered, you leave the bustle of the Malhitu Bazaar behind you. The day is heating up: it is getting towards noon by the time you reach the part of Sothis where expensively-irrigated gardens bloom from the desert sands. The Docent gave you clear directions. The streets here are broad and smooth, and the homes are of those of prosperous merchants and renowned sages... and some members of the aristocracy, as well. Lines of well-tended and watered date palms provide shade, but there are other trees as well: acacia and tamarisk, persea and olive trees. The homes here are spacious and luxurious, with tended grounds and pools of water for the rich to enjoy.
In two hours or so the streets will be all but deserted as the hottest part of the day kicks in. In Osirion, as in many other desert countries, the hours from two to four in the afternoon are considered a time for napping, as only mad dogs and Englishmen Pathfinders dare the heat at such times. Still, right now the streets are still somewhat populated. An Osiriani noblewoman passes by your group, carried on a litter borne by six slaves whose torsos gleam sweaty in the sun. Two well-dressed young men are showing off newly-purchased horses to each other in the middle of the street, and bragging about which is the better steed. A few curious merchant's children watch your passage from atop the walls of their estates. The bulk of the foot traffic on the street is servants bringing goods back to the homes of the wealthy-- purchases from the bazaar that will be used for the mid-day meal, and the like.
As people who are clearly foreigners (to say nothing of the gnoll), you definitely stand out on the residential street.
Down said street, a pair of Osiriani guardsmen are chatting with a servant woman through the gate of one of the estates. They do not appear to have taken notice of you yet, but if you stride down the street or dally overlong, it will surely only be a matter of time before they question your business here.
A wall of stone encircles the Crook Bearer's estate, the gates topped with a symbol of crossed crooks. There is a large low house beyond the gates, set amid a number of low-to-middling shrubs and topiary. A copper bell hangs on a pull-cord by the gates.
Glancing through the gates surreptitiously, you can observe three distinct buildings: the large bulk of the manor house, a less decorated building that could be the stables, and, beyond that, a building that blazes under the sunlight in the shape of an ankh. It appears to be faced with polished black stone, and the sunlight catches on a disk of glass or a similar material-- perhaps a window.
Map of the Crook Bearer's estate
The enclosed grounds are roughly 200 x 400 feet. The wall is ten feet high and topped with what might be shards of broken pottery. You can see that two dogs are lounging in the shade of a tree, near the house.
How would you like to proceed, my pretties?
"Quick in, quick out is usually for the best," offers Lyrian. "I say we scale those walls, drop in through the skylight, take nothing but the mask and be gone before any human guards can arrive. Doubtless there will be traps and possibly guardians."
"I suggest that I take the lead, but would like at least one other person for back up. Perhaps a wizard can calm the hounds?"
The gnoll blinks, a gesture that carries no obvious meaning. "Do we know the mask rests in the... temple?" He glances at the locals, "We should move before we catch their eyes - either raid or come back when night rules."
Javi looks incredulously up at Lyrian as they continue their hopefully-casual-looking stroll through the street. ”I’m going in, too. Heldar, you and one other think you can distract the guards?” He looks to where the two men are having the horse-flesh pissing contest, then over at the noblewoman in her litter. ”You have more than enough tools at your disposal to make some kind of distraction out here in the street.”
He considers as he looks anywhere but at the Crook Bearer’s estate, ”The temple is as good a place to start as any. We don’t know if the mask has a religious significance to the man or not. The skylight may tell us pretty quickly if we’re in the right place. Then we need to deal with those guard dogs.”
Javi looks around, looking for one of the servants who is carrying some meat.
Javi grins over at Lyrian. ”You think you could give me a distraction so I can lift some lunch for those poor, overworked protective pups?”
"I think it might be best if we got in and out without them ever knowing we were there," opines Lyrian. "Rather than a distraction, I would ask you to prepare a reaction should we get in over our heads. Distractions alert the residents to trouble and they will quickly think to check on their valuables."
"Yes, Javi. I agree. Over the right wall, up the side of the black ankh, which is surely his treasure house, and down through the skylight. Cut a hole in the glass, lower on ropes, seize the goods, then back up and out. I calculate twelve minutes from start to finish. Then we should all be prepared to leave immediately."
"If things go poorly, I propose that we avoid the Dung Beetle. We should instead split up and meet at the wadi three miles east of the city before dawn."