Beorn follows.
Paquen follows Beorn
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Variel fills the rest in on the glyphs before moving closer to the opening Borgan created. It seems as if this was a ritual to summon some evil into the world. However it does not seem that it was that powerful as it had a relatively short duration without being able to bring in anything larger than one of us. The magic is all fine now thankfully. It also definitely happened after any possible connection to the silver ravens.
"Nothing larger than one of us?" Litsy repeats. "Well, it's all fine then. I'm sure it's got nothing to do with those pipes we keep hearing!"
These rooms have fallen mostly into disrepair. Chunks of plaster hang from the walls, exposing rough stonework beyond. Scattered furnishings that once outfitted bunkrooms, a kitchen, and even an armory lie scattered about in states of complete disrepair, and doors hang from hinges in the crumbling archways that lie between the chambers. In the northeast corner of one of the chambers that looks as if it served as an armory three small crates lie abandoned.
The pipe music has not made itself known since entering the cistern. And Rexus who has mostly kept quiet while the professionals work looks around in awe and wonder.
"Do you think we've finally reached the Silver Ravens' lair?"
Rendered enthusiastic by this prospect, Litsy skips to the crates, inspecting each one for traps.
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"Hey, you're the one who started talking about oiled-up orcs, not me!" Litsy laughs at Malgar. "You trying to tell Borgan and Beorn something? 'Cause I think our esteemed diva is all ears," she gives Beorn a playful shove.
"Ah, moving on to man-on-man now, as well? I hear that's popular amongst kids these days. And vampires! Vampire men? Where do they come up with this stuff..." Malgar mutters, then shakes his head. "Well, we can discuss these fantasies of yours later, my girl. For now, business before pleasure and all that! Right, Variel?" he asks, then stands back at Beorn muscles his way through the opening.
When they enter, Malgar lingers near the back and tries to sense the room for latent magics.
Borgan hears that Malgar mutters something inaudible at the other side of the opening, though it's too fare and Borgan is too distracted to hear any spoken words.
"This might be the place indeed. Specific rooms, all with their own function. I wonder what more there is."
Borgan moves over towards the armory, trying to find any useful equipment that is still in working order.
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Variel absolutely does not help in searching the new area. Indeed he almost slashes his own throat so quickly does he bring up both hands to plug his ears and close his eyes to prevent him from hearing any more about Tiny’s fantasies or oiled up orcs. Shouting to drown out the conversation he continues on, Nope! Not hearing it. Not going there. Enough is enough for one day. All done…
He cautiously open one eye to see if Malgar or Tiny continue ‘the talk’.
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Well that sort of fantasy is only fair. Since men seem to have their woman woman love.
Beorn is trollingtrollingtrolling Variel.
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Paquen sighs at the banter and gets busy looking around the room starting at the crates. She really hopes it's the one they're looking for. She needs a break.
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"Notice how I never said anything, you gross-arsed morons!" Litsy sing-songs over her shoulder. "And you know why? Because young ladies aren't going to share private stuff with dirty old guys-especially in front of all your men, Malgar! I'm shocked that a man of your standing could ever do something so improper! "
She acts as scandalized as a noblewoman whose cook prepared her a tepid herbal tea instead of strong Earl Grey for tea time, but all of this pitiful back-and-forth makes it hard to focus on the crates.
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Sadly because this adventure was written after 1st ed D&D Tiny doesnt find any lethal traps on the way to the crates aside from the veral landmines laying like soft velvet pillows about the conversation.
Borgan throughly scans the armoury but whatever is left is all but useless, rotted wooden shafts, rusted spear tips and leather handles weathered down to dry paper.
Malgar finds several magic auras in all three of the crates of various strengths and schools.
Paquen doesnt find much else of interest as it seems most everything of value was stripped frok thia place. She does find a curious nest on a bookshelf in the room with the crates made of crunpled pages and paper cloth. Numerous doodles and stmbols have been svratched into the wall and on some of the pages.
Keeping in mind what Variel had said about the graffiti, and the intermittent piping, Paquen first checks the writing to see if it's in infernal.
"Not trapped!" Litsy exclaims. She opens the crates like a kid opening her presents.
"Notice how I never said anything, you gross-arsed morons!" Litsy sing-songs over her shoulder. "And you know why? Because young ladies aren't going to share private stuff with dirty old guys-especially in front of all your men, Malgar! I'm shocked that a man of your standing could ever do something so improper!"
"Shhh, Tiny! I am trying to concentrate here!" The old dwarf mumbles, too heavily invested in scanning for magic to really notice her protests - probably. He was grinning, after all...
"A ha! Three magic thingymagiks, one in each crate! Won't have to go hungry tonight, men, so let's get to it!"
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Ignoring Beorn Variel focuses on all the others that end the banter and is grateful that Tiny seems to be above such talk and acts like a proper lady. 3 magic auras make things interesting.
Variel detects magic to help with identification of the glyphs, writings and the magic items.
Spellcraft
Know arcana
Beorn checks the nest.
Gonna do these one by one.
The first crate contains a suit of +1 leather armor, a composite shortbow (+1 Str), a masterwork hand crossbow, a masterwork silver morningstar, a cloak of elvenkind, and a pouch of a dozen pearls.
coffer magical auras are seen within.
"JACKPOT!" Litsy throws her hands in the air in victory.
She picks up the shortbow and admires it from every angle, testing its string, before pouting when she realizes that she's not nearly strong enough to draw it.
"Aw, that sucks. Here- you've been nice, Paquen, you can have it. Paquen?! Where is she? Oh, I'll just put it back down. Can I have the armour? It's a really nice-looking armour- oh wait, what's this?" Intrigued by the coffer, she kneels down and grabs her tools, to pick the lock.
"Aye, a good haul! Not some flimsy potions or trinkets, even. Even if we don't find anything else belonging to the Silver Ravens - or have to wash or clothes for days - it was worth coming here," Malgar says, grinning, as he watches Tiny open the locked contents of the second crate."What can I say but 'I love it when a plan comes together', right, Robin?"
The silver weapon might be useful if we meet any werewolves! Hmm.. These are some interesting statues.
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appraise pearls
spellcraft ravens
Variel lets out a low whistle as Tiny opens up the chests and works on the third. Malgar you are right. These are not just small consumable items but valuable items that most of us could put to use. The armor all of us could use but I will pass on that. The cloak is interesting as it may make the most sense to give it to the least stealthy in the hopes that we are able to sneak around as needed. The pearls we can try and fetch a decent price for. Any know how much they are worth?
Are you wanting the morningstar Beorn? If not I can carry it as I have the ability to make it magical as well should we run into a creature that requires both magic and silver to damage. It would be a backup weapon though as I will still prefer to use my scimitar for the time being. I have no training in the hand crossbow and will pass on that as well.
Perhaps Malgar can wield it. I can enchant my weapon as well.
"Aren't those statues about the Silver Ravens?" Litsy suggests without looking them. "They look like birds anyway. A bit too convenient, if you ask me."
Fumbling about with rhe coffer is much easier compared to the sturdy and stuck locks on the gates from before. It gives way easily to tiny's minstrations and opening up is a wealth of documentation including a pair of leatherbound tomes some stacks of written paper and some scrolls. As Rexus spots it he gasps.
"Do you know what this means? These documents can hold secrets to more caches, information about our enemies, or even the cities own erased history!" Rexus seems almost giddy at the prospect of discovery and eyes the documents greedily but makes no mention nor motion to try and take them.
Paquen largely tunes out the other people as she tries to figure out the text scribbled at the nest. Most of the chatter is sort of creepy anyway, and she tends to forget she's supposed to be this Robin person.
Paquen does what she can with the writings around the nest then wanders on over to look at the cache in the crates.
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Variel’s previous whistle is replaced with a jaw drop as he identifies exactly what it was that Tiny was referring to. A couple seconds of blowing to get adjusted he picks up one of the raven figurines. Tiny you have no idea how right you are. Each of these figures is a powerful magical item allowing people to communicate across distances in a short amount of time. With these the Silver Ravens could have been strewn across Kintargo yet within minutes could be reached and assembled for whatever situation was needed. No one would even know there was information being passed covertly unless the raven just happened to arrive to deliver its message at the same time as an unwanted visitor. With these we could restart the Silver Ravens ourselves and not need a hideout. We could be in our own homes for a while without people being the wiser.
Variel gladly steps to the side to allow Rexus at the paperwork. Going through old papers seemed like task well suited to the man. All yours Rexus. You are the reason we are here in the first place. Go in and take a look at what informational treasures might be hidden there. If you don’t mind I will take a look at those scrolls though to see what may be of use.
Paquen largely tunes out the other people as she tries to figure out the text scribbled at the nest. Most of the chatter is sort of creepy anyway, and she tends to forget she's supposed to be this Robin person.
Paquen does what she can with the writings around the nest then wanders on over to look at the cache in the crates.
The scratchings are tiny, barely legible and mostly worn. Some of it is in infernal, a language hard to look at without a heat growong behind your after a while and mostly seems to consist of yes or no questions some crossed out, others circled, and some with answera scratched beneath. All seem to pertain to some arcane matter regarding hell portals. Closer to the nest are tally marks, lots of the, and a name. The name is written in halfling curiously enough and is written over and over and over in writing that seems manic even for being scratched into the wall. In common the name translates to Beryl.
The coffer contains four magical scrolls. The rest of the documentation while being completely unreadable to variel are decidedly mundane.
appraise pearls d20+3
spellcraft ravens d20+7Variel lets out a low whistle as Tiny opens up the chests and works on the third. Malgar you are right. ... The cloak is interesting as it may make the most sense to give it to the least stealthy in the hopes that we are able to sneak around as needed. ... Are you wanting the morningstar Beorn? If not I can carry it as I have the ability to make it magical as well should we run into a creature that requires both magic and silver to damage.
"The most dangerous weapon of all... not magic, not a bow, not a spear, but information. Knowing where to strike, how to move, faster than your enemy. A good information network is what makes or breaks an army - and a nation. Or a group of resistance fighters... with these, our chances just got a whole lot better," Malgar muses when he hears about the communication devices, more clear-minded than usual. "The mace is nice. It would be a backup for me too, but I can defenitely use it to bash in some skulls, helmets, and werewolves should we meet 'em. Bastards will be sorry!"
He then looks at the cloak. "There's a third option: we give it to the second most covert person so that you can employ a team of scouts and assassins instead of just one. I can volounteer for that - maybe it'll help me keep pace with Tiny. But perhaps Robin would be a good choice, too. He was always a crafty one," he adds, glancing at Paquen.
Borgan looks on to the rest of the group as they extoll all the items from the crates. His mind goes to the idea of finding perhaps one or a few of the old Silver Ravens.
The figurines themselves draw his attention, the weapons not so much, though he could very much use them.
Items of sending? That is a great find. But what did they say?
"I beg your pardon, but did you really just suggest that we should become the new Silver Ravens? We haven't even found any of the old ones, something we had hoped to find. There wasn't any talk yet of us becoming them. Are there any mentions of former members we could contact?"
It's easy to hear in his voice that Borgan doesn't feel all that safe in the spotight and the sudden thrust of authority upon himself and the group.
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But perhaps Robin would be a good choice, too. He was always a crafty one,"[/b]
Paquen balls her fists and tries to fight it. She really tries. She's used to everyone thinking all tieflings look alike, although they vary so much. But this. This is is different.
No, no, not now. Not here. Let's just take the stuff and go. Dammit...
There's practically steam coming out of Paquen's ears as she screeches at Malgar.
"For the sake of all the gods! I AM A WOMAN! Female! My name is NOT Robin! It's Paquen! We had never laid eyes on each other before yesterday! Stop it!"
If we do become these Silver Ravens. We will certainly need masks and code names so we can strike fear into evil-doers. They are a superstitious lot.
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Rexus nods at Paquens comment. "From what I understand they were destroyed by the end of the civil war eighty years ago. But." Rexus smiles as he gestures towards the locked gate at the southeastern edge of the room. "Whatever misfortune befell them clearly didn't reach here. It's not like the House of Thrune to leave even a trace of their enemies. Who knows what we'll find if we but harden ourselves and press forward?"
His smile and bravado fades as the discordant, sorrowful pipe music drifts from the darkness beyond the gates.
Variel looks to Rexus as Borgan voices his reluctance to carry on the mantle of the Silver Ravens. Perhaps I am jumping to conclusions here but after yesterday I don't think any of us need reminding of what is at stake here. We all saw how the people of Kintargo were treated and how people are being beaten and killed by the new Lord Mayor. The demonstrations proved that even without the crossbows bolt being fired. He was waiting to unleash his thugs upon the crowd just for being there. I have a score to settle with Thrune and if I can help the people of Kintargo at the same time I am all for it. Is this not what you had in mind Rexus?
If we do become these Silver Ravens. We will certainly need masks and code names so we can strike fear into evil-doers. They are a superstitious lot.
I think that would be a good idea as long as Paquen's codename is not Robin...Turning to Paquen Variel asks, What would you like your code name to be?
Paquen stares at Variel in slack-jawed disbelief before turning without comment to rounding up a share of the stuff they've found to carry. She goes back to the nest and writes down the halfling name recorded there. "Beryl"
She then makes for the exit.
"I'll be upstairs where the stench is a little more bearable."
Detect magic on scrolls…
d20+7
d20+7
d20+7
d20+7
a scroll of misdirection, a scroll of pass without trace, and a scroll of whispering wind. The last one is a touch out of your expertise.
Variel looks at Tiny and the others as he shrugs his shoulders...What did I say wrong?
"Maybe it's the part where you decided she just had to join your cool team of revolutionaries instead of asking her what she wants?" Litsy hums. "Let people decide for themselves, Variel."
Although she's being sarcastic as usual, her voice rather lacks bite, as she is obviously distracted by the documents she just discovered. Picking a leatherbound tome randomly, she starts to skip through the pages, squinting to make out the words printed on the yellow pages. "You sure this contains information about the enemy, boss?"
"For the sake of all the gods! I AM A WOMAN! Female! My name is NOT Robin! It's Paquen! We had never laid eyes on each other before yesterday! Stop it!"
"What did I say wrong?"
"Maybe it's the part where you decided she just had to join your cool team of revolutionaries instead of asking her what she wants?" Litsy hums. "Let people decide for themselves, Variel."
"Hm... don't know. Robin was always one for keeping up pretense. Probably does it just in case someone's listening in. Using fake identities, making us seem less united, pretty deep stuff. She was always a crafty one," Malgar concludes, holding the end of his beard and twisting the strands of hair as he thinks. "
He briefly shakes his head. "That said, in case she's serious, maybe she just doesn't like hiding behind a codename, since she wanted recognition for the Tieflings so badly. But I'm afraid you'll have to ask her in-person. Women are complicated." He summons another jug of alcohol and toasts Beorn and Variel.
As paquen storms out Rexus sees her leave and looks at Variel disappointedly. "She's clearly tired of playing up to a charade in favor of other people feelings. Being an insensitive ass about it is the last thing she needs."
Then he turns to Borgan . "Dear Borgan what did you expect? Even I didn't think we'd find lost heroes of the past just waiting to spring from the ground. Even if some remnant atill existed the night of ashes put tbat idea to rest. The only person I know still alive that comes close is, well, we'll go to meet her when we're through here. I do not relish the idea of keeping these things in one of our homes."
Looking at one of the documents Rexus's face falls before muttering. "Of course it's in code."
Looking closer at the page he starts pacing the room deep in thought while stroking his beard. "Elvens the easiest to point out, Strix, and one other language, but none of their grammar as far as I can tell." He trails off lost in his thoughts.
"Women are just complicated, like that."
"Yeah, so complicated to understand," Litsy rolls her eyes. "Imagine having to actually talk to them. Or figure out that you have to listen! Jeez, Variel, are you sure you can do it? It sounds hella above most men!"
A quick glance through the book is enough for her to understand that she'll never make sense of it,. She stands up to read over Rexus's shoulder (or elbow, given her size), only to find the other tome being essentially more of the same.
"Ah, so that's why I couldn't get it. You think you can crack the code?"
Borgan shakes his head as Variel speaks first and later Rexus directs a few words to him.
"I don't know. I had thought perhaps someone could give us a few pointers. Or we join the Silver Ravens as new blood, taking advantage of their wisdom and experience. I've had to make many mistakes to get the freedom I have now, to learn what I can or can't do, I'd rather not make any mistakes if we're going to organise a revolution. Mistakes will get people killed or tortured, I'd rather not mess up."
Again
"You take your pick of the items. I need to think."
Borgan turns away, seemingly lost in thought, walking back into the previous rooms, strolling past Paquen as he has one hand on his forehead, rubbing with his fingers across his eyebrows as if he's having a headache or extremely deep thought.
Alas, Rexus. I am rather lacking in knowledge of other languages. Perhaps we can buy some books on identifying them.
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Variel looks at Tiny and Rexus momentarily at a loss. I never said she had to join but that we could restart the Silver Ravens ourselves. Anything beyond that is up to the individual but we have a chance to make a true difference here and counter Thrune. Variel stops trying to explain himself and turns to leave as well. Perhaps I will go find Paquen and find out what is bothering her.
About 5 minutes after you leave Variel makes his way up out of the cellar looking for you. Should you want to be found by him Variel sits down a few steps away from you. Even in the short time you have known him you realize how nervous and frustrated he is by his stutter being much worse. Umm, so I know we have only just met yesterday in a very stressful situation but I want you to know that I am sorry if I come across as a bit blunt. Rexus just told me I was an ass to you and I didn’t even realize it. I wish to make amends but unfortunately I do not even realize what exactly I said to upset you so. Tiny thought it was that I made the assumption that you would automatically join in the formation of the new Silver Ravens without asking. I am not sure if it is that or that I suggested you not be called Robin. Please help me clear the air so that I can apologize properly and not make the same mistake in the future.
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Paquen is quite calmly waiting by the door when Variel finds her. She listens to his speech without comment or reaction other than to stare at him while he does it.
"Gosh! You mean there really is a place for me in your little boy's club? That's thrilling, more than I'm able to express" she deadpans.
"This 'Silver Ravens' thing is a joke. It isn't going anywhere. The dwarf is completely insane, his pal is a drunkard, and you're happy to shrug and join in. We can't even fetch some crates out of a basement without you three sitting down as soon as you though it might be safe (note to you: it isn't), and start boozing it up. What, do you think you're all going to just stagger onto a foolproof (and would have to be wouldn't it?) solution to this city's problems? Do you think those f&!!-ups down there are going to be so cute Barzillai Thrune will pack ups his stuff and trot off back to Egorian after handing you the key to the city?"
"Nope, you all will f#$+ up quickly enough. Then you will be impaled, or spit roasted, or torn limb from limb, or whatever's popular lately. The big difference between you and me is this. You can piss your life away if you want to and there's no ripple in the pond. If i'm with you, the shit storm that the Silver Ravens is going to turn out be will be visited tenfold on us tieflings. I become the excuse for all of us to suffer whatever collective punishment Thrune fancies. I have a responsibility to not be the cause of something like that. Am I a killjoy? Too serious? You bet, because I have to be. A lot of people I care about depend on it."
"But that's only why I'm so disappointed I might walk. The reason I'm pissed off is I'm tired of that dwarven wacko not even knowing I'm not some guy named Robin. I've been patient, maybe he'd figure it out. But no. I though maybe someone would be decent enough to take him aside and say something so I wouldn't have to directly confront him. But I suppose it was just too amusing for anyone to say anything."
"So when I do finally tell the dwarf to get a grip on reality and actually use my name because I've absolutely had it with that crap, what's the first thing said? The drunkard chirps in about all of us taking fake names. And you, like the milquetoast follower that you are, ask me what fake name I'd prefer instead. Thanks for the support. You're barely the tip of the iceberg though."
"Now will you go down there and tell your pals to stop partying ankle deep in fetid, stinking slurry so we can go? THAT would be helpful."
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"Ah, so that's why I couldn't get it. You think you can crack the code?"
Litsy sighs as loud, exasperated shouts start coming from the room where Variel is currently trying to talk to Paquen.
"Gosh, he really just gets yelled at these days, doesn't he? I'm gonna go check on them," she leaves Rexus' side and, hands stuffed in her pocket and eyes downcast, she heads for the exit, grumbling all the while: "Let's go get talking... Lots of talking in this group. Talkative ones, they are." Staring at her toes, she realizes that she's probably going to need a new pair of shoes, preferably less grubby.
She arrives just in time to hear Paquen rant about acting responsibly and the whacko dwarf that should do the exact same.
"Malgar? Malgar's nuts," she lifts her head up. "Half the stuff that comes out of the guys' mouth's total BS. You heard him when he was fighting these rats- thought it was what? Some dogs, some blokes? I don't even remember," she shakes her head in disbelief.
"I don't think he's ever gonna get his thing together, but I know he's doing it on purpose sometimes. He was totally pulling my leg with this whole 'fantasies' thing, and I didn't like it none too much," she shrugs.
"I just tell him to f@** off 'cause I know he's not dangerous- hells, we used to make fun of him all the time when he was still a hobo living on the street. But sure, we can try to tip him off to you not being Robin- whoever the f$~% that guy was. We may have to get down on his level though, and I'm not saying that just 'cause he's a dwarf," she chuckles. "And next time he annoys us, we just gang up on him and tell him he better stop if he wants to keep his family jewels of his!" A pause. "Alright, maybe not something that violent- telling him he'll end up in the cooler and won't be able to drink no more will probably do the trick."
She scratches her head before moving to her next point.
"As for the Silver Ravens stuff... Well, I really feel you, Paquen," Another shrug. "As much as I like the idea of being a pain in House Thrune's arse, I don't know 'bout us becoming the next Silver Ravens, or whatever. We're only six, and they're a lot more. Besides, I know what you mean about having plenty of people that depend on you. If I get caught, I don't know what'll happen to my gang. Worse, I don't even know what'll happen to them if the dottari really want me to get caught."
There's a pregnant pause, as Litsy's pensively twisting a strand of hair around her finger, lost in thought:
"Even before the dottari came up, life sucked. It's only gone from bad to worse. Really raises the question of whether it's best to risk your life and take a stand, or keep low and try to survive the way you've always done. I haven't decided," she concludes.
"All I know is, people've been disappearing around me for a long time, only now it may just be a matter of time instead of a matter of... Bad luck, you know what I mean? Plus, there's someone who needs my help to bail him out of jail and scram off this f!$%ing city, if that even is possible, I've got no f#!&ing idea. So it's going to take a lot of time to decide."
She looks over at Paquen, an undefinable emotion on her face:
"I know Variel's the pushy, heroic type, but jeez, you don't have to do the same. If there's nothing in there for you and you want out, I get why. We'll just split the shares, escort Rex... Well, wherever he wants to go back to, collect our reward, and call it a day. Deal?"
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Borgan moved over towards an earlier room than where Paquen resides, he himself punches the wall, bitterness in his own mind. Grunts of anger and frustration are punched out every time his fists connect with the stone opposite him.
I've failed people before, I've failed you. Though I would gladly lay my own life on the line for this cause, I am not sure I am good enough to lead. To defend, to fight, Yes. To drive others in harm's way...
It's at that point his right hand slips from the wall, leaving Borgan with a sullen expression on his face and bloody knuckles on both hands. He slumps down on the ground, frustrated with himself and his new lot in life.
Then he hears the tirade of Paquen falling out against Variel and then Litsy joining in the conversation, hearing the same points he's dealing with himself in their words.
He slowly gets up again and moves back towards the room with Paquen, Variel and Litsy.
"That's the truth for multiple of us." He says as he picks out clean cloth from his backpack, wrapping his bloodied hands in them.
"I ain't a leader, I'm a fighter, a defender. I could face disastrous odds, but bringing in people to fight in a cause I don't know how to fight, that's even scarier. It's why I hoped to find some clues about the surviving Ravens, help them to lead, follow in their teachings, learn from their example."
He looks with a serious face towards Variel.
"I get that you want to fight back, I want to fight too, else I wouldn't be here. But fighting and leading others in that path are two different things. That's why I can't understand that it's so easily picked up that we are the new Silver Ravens, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. If all we would do is fight ourselves, that's easy. If we want to go this route, then you would better have a damn good plan, far better than saying 'let's start a rebellion'. So I agree with Paquen and Litsy, I will help in any way I can, but don't ... ... take this lightly."
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"Why are ye all assuming Variel doesn't know what's at stake, or that he's somehow not taking this seriously? Seems unfair to judge as such. Seems ter me the lad's got his heart in the right place," Malgar slowly ascends the stairs, taking a sip from his tankard and setting it aside.
"That said, if you wanna walk, then walk. No one's stopping you. You can run somewhere far away and abandon whatever you hold dear an'is keeping you here to Barzillai. But can you, having seen how he works? Every day he passes new, crazy laws, that makes the population more angry at him, and when they protests, he slaps them in the face, provoking them, so he can punish them more. This is going to repeat itself over and over, until everyone in the city is broken and forced to sell their soul to Asmodeus for his 'forgiveness'. Believe me, I know how that goes."
He leans back against a dusty pillar. "'Course, maybe I just have it easy. For me, it's personal. All I really want is revenge, and I don't have that much to lose. Forty years in prison for fightin 'on the wrong side' will do that to you. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to give it my best shot! Everything worthwhile doesn't come easy, and it all starts from scratch. Think Malgar's Marauders, the best damn band of hirelings in the whole godsdamned civil war was formed in a day? Hah! Perseverence, recruits, that's the key to success!"
"Well... that, guts, and opportunity. The people are angry. Many lost people or things they cared about to a tyrant. If a worthwhile leader rises up behind the scenes, all it takes it a little push. Not me obviously,'cause I'm too pretty and don't want to deal with the asskissing anymore. Still, these trinkets give us a large advantage. You can coordinate an entire operation with this from a distance. One act of sabotage, then another, gradually undermining Thrune's authority ...it can snowball. We could be that REALLY annoying itch Barzillai can't scratch, until it's too late."
He takes his tankard and takes another swig. "...Or we can be cowards and leave people to their fate."
Something changes in his eyes, and he looks around. "Hm. Good talk, good talk! Say, why aren't we downstairs to search for more treasure, again?"
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Paquen leans back against the wall and crosses her arms.
"Oh! I understand now Malgar. My deep misgivings about doing very dangerous things with you isn't about your lack of seriousness and obvious incompetence. No no, it's about my lack of courage, or lack of commitment, or whatever."
"That's a really clever rhetorical turn. If I were an idiot, I might buy in to your bullshit, find it stirring and heroic. But that aside, what makes you think you're my only option? That 'me or nothing' false choice crap, you slipped that in there real subtle. But why should I believe you're the only game in town? Why maybe I should shop around, see who else might have more to offer. Or maybe I'll strike out and recruit my own people."
"I could run an organization on a whole lot more substance than revenge, guts, delusion, and beer all around. After all, the last time a group of people followed you, they all got killed didn't they?"
"By the way, who am I?"
Turning her attention away from Malgar, who she considers a lost cause, she addresses the others present.
"I'm not saying the new Lord Mayor can't be taken down Litsy, but I'm on the same page as Borgan. Yukking it up and bumbling along expecting everything to work out because we're so special is the road to failure. Actually succeeding will take discipline, planning, and very well thought through decisions about what we do, and how we do it. We'll need to be careful. It'll take an attention span on everyone's part. These are not things I'm seeing enough of to satisfy me."