Hack awaits Quint's actions after the hushed conversation.
Quint tips the brim of his hat slightly in acknowledgement, then casually heads for the stairs, giving the predetermined signal for his companions, discreetly and one-at-a-time, to follow.
Nikeisha followed along at a distance, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.
Hack follows Wuint up the stairs, planning on entering behind him
I got yer back, Quint. Just say I am the muscle.
Luna figures she can get up the stairs quickly enough if needed, so she stays right where she is in order to keep an eye and ear open for any others trying to follow Quint or any signals from the man on the stage or anyone else she can spot.
When the other's make their move Psalm curses his dull brain for not being an animal this whole time. He moves casually toward the stairs. Looking for a moment out of sight where he might shift to a mouse form. If none presents itself he follows like a visitor in search of a privvy.
Just as Psalm turned the corner of the stairs, and was far enough out of sight of the common room where he thought changing into a wee small mouse would give him the advantage of stealth, he locked eyes with the slit-pupil orbs of a sleek black tomcat sitting at the top of the stairs... Changing into a mouse now might be the deadliest mistake he ever made...
Psalm continues his search for the privy walk. Keeping the others in view.
Quint proceeds to the indicated door and knocks twice, giving the codephrase when prompted.
Nikeisha continued trying to follow along.
When the door finally opens, Quint finds himself face to knees with a rather tall half-elf gentleman armed, as the expression goes, to the teeth. Mail of chain, vambraces, greaves, pauldrons sculpted to with horns that resemble a dragon's, mace, shortsword, several daggers, and a loaded and cocked crossbow all bedeck his personage. Also, in fact, interestingly, the elf-kin's lower incisors are capped in silver fangs. The man's expression when he looks down at Quint is one of complete shock, but not fear. He rests his hand on leather wrapped pommel of the mace sticking through his belt and says, Well, you're a good sight shorter than anyone I expected to show up tonight. D'you get an invitation by mistake? Or d'you steal it?" Judging by his current posture, the man does not consider Quint any kind of real threat, nor does he seem to care that Quint somehow got entrance to this secret meeting. If anything, his facial and body expressions show piqued curiosity.
Hack steps up behind Quint with his arms crossed and stares at the half-elf.
Psalm looks both ways down the hall still attempting his lost patron act.
To the untrained observer, Luna is sitting in her chair quite relaxed and comfortable, but to those more knowledgeable it is quite clear that every muscle in her well-honed body is tensed and ready to spring into action in a split-second. She has had ample time to study the 'terrain' in between herself and the doorway, and she has a route planned for going over and up the hand-rail on the stairway so as to have minimal interference in her transit up to the second floor should it be necessary.
Quint tilts his head back further than necessary so that he can look down his nose at the half-elf towering above, and fixes him with the most arrogant gaze he can muster. The only mistake here was not giving me and invite in the first place. Well, that and giving one to someone who couldn't hold onto it.
Quint's arrogant reply makes the half-elf laugh. "Brazen little bastard, aren't ye?" He then points at the muscly Highlander standing behind the little gnome and says, in gnomish "Who's he? Your second?"
Who, him? Just think of him as my shadow.
"Light must be awful low to cast such a big shadow. Before I let you in, I need a name, so I can introduce you to the group. Step in." As the half-elf steps back, Quint finally gets enough perspective to see that this room is some kind of multi-room suite, and this front chamber is nothing more than an antechamber, a waiting room. There is a long low table with several books sitting on it, a handful of plush chairs upholstered in expensive fabrics and golden brocade. A few dim lamps cast pale yellow-orange light around the room. The antechamber has three doors, the entrance to the hallway, where Quint and Hack now stand, another directly opposite across roughly fifteen feet of floor, and the third in the wall to the left, past all the furniture. When the silver-fanged half-elf speaks again, it is once again in Common. "So? What name am I to give?"
Quint briefly considers giving a false name, then recalls the dossiers he found along with the amulet. If anyone else here had seen it...
After all, there was a reason he is doing this, rather than one of his companions, and that he wasn't wearing a disguise. At the moment, the best identity available to him is his own. Or a version of his own, at least.
Quint Rue, he says, in a dismissive tone that says that his "shadow's" name is unimportant.