"Hello, Gallo. It's good to see another member of the Church interested in helping the faithful. Haven't I seen you around the cathedral before?"
Zilroy squints, trying to remember where he has seen the paladin before.
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The warehouse is located in Midtown, in a neighborhood known as Longbottom. The red warehouse is on Able Row. it is an innocuous-looking rectangular, wooden building with a partial second floor. The front of the building faces north. It has a set of locked, double doors in the front of the building and a locked single door on the south side (back of the building).
As it is still mid-afternoon, the street is fairly busy. Every two to three minutes at least one person walks by.
Tusker looks the building over, then around at the passersby. "So, do we want to take a look around inside first, or wait to see what's going down at sunset?"
Yarag waits for an answer. He watches passersby to see if anyone is on watch for the warehouse.
The ex-soldier tries to work how easy an attack from above would be too. Could someone climb the wall via guttering or another building and get in to the offices or whatever is on the second floor.
"Hello, Gallo. It's good to see another member of the Church interested in helping the faithful. Haven't I seen you around the cathedral before?"
Zilroy squints, trying to remember where he has seen the paladin before.
"It's possible, though I don't get up that way too often anymore. They think I'm... well, they object to some of my interpretations of the faith."
"And it's Gallows, brother. You know, like the leafless tree."
He mimes a noose, hand on his throat, tongue out.
His macabre charades over with, he scratches his beard and tries to reason out a plan for the warehouse.
"I suggest we look around the neighborhood, make some inquiries. Not about the warehouse, but about the Pale Dogs around here. I don't think breaking in is justified until we have a little more evidence that something is going on in there counter to Ptolus' legal code. If breaking in becomes necessary, I think we aught to head in ready for trouble, probably from the front and back."
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Yarag waits for an answer. He watches passersby to see if anyone is on watch for the warehouse.
The ex-soldier tries to work how easy an attack from above would be too. Could someone climb the wall via guttering or another building and get in to the offices or whatever is on the second floor.
It looks like an ambush from the ceiling would be quite simple. The buildings are close enough together that almost anyone could easily shimmy up the sides and get on the roof. The tallest building on this street is three stories.
As you walk around the building, it does not appear that anyone is on the roof at this time.
"Breaking in?" Zilroy is taken aback. "I was hoping we could just...you know...try to scare off whoever is bothering Phon. Do you think it'll come to that?
Come to think of it, if this fellow sees a bunch of rough-looking men waiting for him, he may not show up at all. Maybe some of us should hide."
"Breaking in is just my way of doing it!" Let me check first...
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You wait patiently and find your various places hide. Just as the sun is setting, two men walk up Able Row towards the red warehouse. They are discussing something in low voices. One is a human. He is short and pudgy, probably soft. He wears a dagger on his belt and jewelry on his ears and fingers. You wouldn't notice, but the jewelry is particular large and gaudy, and his dangling ear rings sparkle in the remaining sunlight.
The second man is a Shoal elf. You can tell by his pointed ears, olive skin and dark hair. He stands a few inches taller than his human companion. He is dressed in black leathers and a rapier hangs on his belt.
They approach the door to the warehouse. The short, pudgy man pulls out a key ring and inserts a large brass key into the door.
Perception roll = 14 +7 for a total of 21
If I have to roll it in the twilight...
Ok, I'll try to stay in the shadows, and await "orders" from the others.
Stealth roll: 07 +7 = 14
"Some reason we shouldn't just go up and talk to them?" Tusker asks quietly. "We're not going to learn much just standing around here..."
"Some reason we shouldn't just go up and talk to them?" Tusker asks quietly. "We're not going to learn much just standing around here..."
"Aye, that's true. I'll head in and start up a chat. Maybe Shar-Nym should come, too, since they'll be expecting him? Give us a few minutes and then bust in?"
Gallows hides his holy symbol beneath his mail.
"Someone should wait by the doors, out of sight but listening." As the other two move off, Yarag follows and stands behind the open doors ears wide and staff down his chest.
Ok, let's go!
"Right...right. I was just about to suggest that." Zilroy looks miserable, but at least his hands aren't shaking. He steps out of his hiding place and follows.
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"Someone should wait by the doors, out of sight but listening." As the other two move off, Yarag follows and stands behind the open doors ears wide and staff down his chest.
Yarag takes position at the door, while Tusker finds an inconspicuous observation post. The others open the door and step into the building.
The inside of the warehouse is cold but dry. The floor boards creek as you pass through the doorway. You are immediately aware of a spicy, but pleasant smell that seems to permeate the entire warehouse. Large casks are spread out on the floor. You look up to see several crates in the loft. The loft matches up to the partial second floor you saw from outside.
Across form you is large oak desk where the pudgy human man sits, holding a quill pen and concentrating on a piece of parchment. The shoal elf sits perched on the side of the desk, looking down on his human companion. They are quietly discussing something.
The Shoal elf looks up when he hears the floor board. He appears surprised. His hand moves to the rapier at his belt, but he neither draws the weapon nor puts his hand on the hilt.
"Who are you?" he barks in challenge.
"Er...my name is Brother...Gilroy. We're here to tell you to leave Phon alone! And if you'll tell us who your boss is, we'll tell him right to his face...probably."
Zilroy looks uncertainly at the others for aid.
Gallows smiles broadly.
"How's the murder for hire business, boys?"
Nym readies his dagger!
Being at Gallows side, Nym gets brave...
"Shut up! I know you are behind the murder attempt on Phon - we should contact you here, when it has been done! Don't play games with us!"
He keeps his dagger ready, taking a look at Gallows.
Gallows turns a discerning (right) eye on the two bureaucrats as he pulls the note about meeting up here from his pocket and slides it into their view.
"If we're mistaken, I'm terribly sorry. But the man we apprehended yesterday in this grave assault had this on his person and we thought following up on it was the wisest course of action. Upright citizens like ourselves can't tolerate such lowlife, good-for-nothing scum on our streets, can we?"
The one-eyed paladin watches for a reaction, particularly from the fat man.
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"If we're mistaken, I'm terribly sorry. But the man we apprehended yesterday in this grave assault had this on his person and we thought following up on it was the wisest course of action. Upright citizens like ourselves can't tolerate such lowlife, good-for-nothing scum on our streets, can we?"
The one-eyed paladin watches for a reaction, particularly from the fat man.
The pudgy man steps back as Shar-Nym brandishes his dagger. The Shoal elf gives him a disgusted look. He takes the offered note from Gallows. "Yes, it looks like some malcontents wanted to use our warehouse as a meeting point. So what? It's nothing to do with us, and I'll thank you to take your young thug outside before he hurts someone with that thing."
Unfortunately for the elf, Gallows knows a load of lizard crap when he hears one. For anyone else, the elf might be a smooth liar, but not this group.
The man continues to take steps backwards away from Shar-Nym.
Yarag and Tusker can hear Shar-Nyms shout from outside.
Gallows continues to smile broadly.
"I'm sorry. My young friend, he's a bit wound up. Being called a liar to your face when you know you're not tends to do that to a man. And a young man, well, you know what kind of firebrands they can be. To be honest, I don't know if I could control him if I wanted to."
He surveys the room with his good eye.
"We got off on the wrong foot. Allow me to introduce myself: my name's Simon. But you should call me Gallows, as in the leafless tree. I've wasted enough of your time, so I'm going to cut to the chase. You either stop lying to my face and spill some information on the Pale Dogs and the man that hired your extraordinarily inept muggers or I honestly doubt your little olive and feta business is going to be filling orders tomorrow. We know they were going to be payed, at this time, in this warehouse. This is the last time I'm asking politely."
"And by the way, feel free to call the Watch. We'll tell 'em our story, you tell 'em yours and we'll have a little get-to-know-each-other party right here in the office! Won't that be fun?"
Tusker signals the dog and together they cross the street toward the warehouse, getting close enough to the door to hear the last bit of Gallows' speech. Tusker smiles to himself, but he also feels a chill, as violence seems likely to follow. He grips his scimitar tightly.
Yarag nods to Tusker and walks in four square side-by-side at this point.
"Where do you want us to start, Gallows."
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Yarag nods to Tusker and walks in four square side-by-side at this point.
"Where do you want us to start, Gallows."
The pudgy man jumps as Yarag walks into the warehouse. The color drains from his face. His mouth moves for a moment, but no words are formed. Finally, he regains control of at least his tongue. "Look, ok, I can see you're all upset, let's sit down and talk about this and I'm sure we can come to some arrangement."
"Shut up you drekking fool," says the elf, spittle flying from his mouth. "You can go to prison if you want, but not me." The elf draws his rapier and starts to say, "I'm leaving..."
Gallows draws his own sword.
"OH, you're staying."
"Yes, if you know something about Phon, I daresay you better tell us now." Zilroy unsheathes his own sword as well.
"We are after who ever paid for Phon to die. tell us that and we may be less inclined to put you in prison."
Like the other two warriors, Yarag limbers up the staff and rests it across his shoulders, hands and forearms over the ends.
Tusker steps into the room as well, hoping against hope that intimidation might avoid violence. The large dog trails in after him and growls at the elf and his companion.
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The show of force is impressive, and enough to bring the pudgy man to his knees, grovelling for mercy. The elf, with a final disgusted look, turns and leaps towards the back window. Tusker's dog is far too quick for this and pounces. He brings the elf down easily, as if he were just a toy for the big mastiff. The dog sits on top of the squirming, but securely pinned elf, wagging his tail looking to Tusker for approval.
"Please," says the man, "it weren't personal, just business you know. A contract came our way for this young tart. We didn't think she was important to anyone. You know how it is. We grabbed the first young thugs we could and got them to do the dirty work. I mean there's more than enough people in this city, and works hard to come by..."
The show of force is impressive, and enough to bring the pudgy man to his knees, grovelling for mercy. The elf, with a final disgusted look, turns and leaps towards the back window. Tusker's dog is far too quick for this and pounces. He brings the elf down easily, as if he were just a toy for the big mastiff. The dog sits on top of the squirming, but securely pinned elf, wagging his tail looking to Tusker for approval.
Tusker smiles at the dog, drawing his scimitar and approaching the elf. "Not smart," he tells the man on the floor, reaching out to run his hand though the dog's thick fur and pat it on the head. "Not smart at all." He looks at the dog. "You, on the other hand, are very good." He places the edge of the scimitar at the elf's throat. "I'm gonna back my dog off you now, but if you move, I'll slit your throat myself."
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"You, on the other hand, are very good." He places the edge of the scimitar at the elf's throat. "I'm gonna back my dog off you now, but if you move, I'll slit your throat myself."
The mastiff returns to Tusker's side, looking as pleased as any dog has ever looked. The elf shifts slightly to glance up at Tusker with a look of pure, malevolent, hatred.
Meanwhile, the man, even more terrified by this latest development abases himself at the feet of Yarag and Zilory.
"Who is it who wants Phon dead, and why? Is it one of you two villains?"
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"Who is it who wants Phon dead, and why? Is it one of you two villains?"
"I'm Vaggar. I was hired by my boss, Toridan Cran, to kill a woman named Phon Quartermain. I don't know why he wanted her dead. I hired a couple of thugs to do the dirty work with every intention of slitting their throats when they came to collect payment. You can find Cran in a small, one-story house on Nar Street in southern Midtown. It's an ugly neighborhood, but I doubt you will have any trouble."
"Now, I've told you everything. Let me take the next ship out of Ptolus. I promise I'll never come back."
The elf, pinned by Tusker, can barely contain his rage as his partner spills this information.
Yarag searches them both, putting the staff to one side.
He looks for information first and then wealth. When he finishes he hands all the money to Vaggar, "there you go, of course if I see you again..you will have broken your word. That would be a bad thing."
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Yarag searches them both, putting the staff to one side.
He looks for information first and then wealth. When he finishes he hands all the money to Vaggar, "there you go, of course if I see you again..you will have broken your word. That would be a bad thing."
Yarag finds 5 gold pieces on the elf and 3 gp and 14 sp on the man. The elf has a rapier with a pearl handle. It appears to be a well made blade. Vagger also has a small dagger in his belt.
"Yes, yes good sir," says Vagger as he heads towards the door. You'll never see me again, I promise." He is a little taken aback when Yarag hands him the coins, but he hesitates for only a brief second before quickening his pace towards the door.
"I'll hunt you down for this Vagger," yells the elf. "I'll find you wherever you are and slit your miserable throat."
A little spittle lands on Tusker's cheek as the elf yells his threats to Vagger's back.
"All right, let's talk to this Cran, then. You made a wise choice helping us, Vaggar. Perhaps the Daykeeper will forgive you your sins."
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Vagger wastes no time leaving the warehouse and heading towards the docks.
Our heroes take the miscreant elf to the local authorities and head off to the house of Toridan Cran. The house is in a relatively rough part of midtown, but the streets are quiet now, several hours after sunset. The wind is bitingly cold and clouds cover the moon leaving our heroes in darkness.
The house of Toridan Cran is much like the other houses of the area, a small two-story town home. The three wooden steps to the front door appear to be rotted through, requiring anyone entering or exiting the front door to make a short jump. The house seems quiet, but you can see light coming from the windows.
Tusker wipes the spittle from his face, but smiles. The tusks are quite visible. "You, I don't like," he tells the elf. "Fortunately, I know how to deal with rabid animals." He pauses a moment to let the message sink in, but then laughs and looks at Gallows. "C'mon, let's get rid of this guy. The watch will take the word of a paladin for what we've heard here."
Our heroes take the miscreant elf to the local authorities and head off to the house of Toridan Cran. The house is in a relatively rough part of midtown, but the streets are quiet now, several hours after sunset. The wind is bitingly cold and clouds cover the moon leaving our heroes in darkness.
The house of Toridan Cran is much like the other houses of the area, a small two-story town home. The three wooden steps to the front door appear to be rotted through, requiring anyone entering or exiting the front door to make a short jump. The house seems quiet, but you can see light coming from the windows.
"Nice place," Tusker says ironically. "Anyone feel like peeking in a few windows?"
"I'll take a look around back, check out any other exits."
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"I'll take a look around back, check out any other exits."
The town-home is a standard, two-story structure. The lower walls are stone and the upper floor is made of wood. The home has two entrances, one in front, and one in back. Light appears to be spilling from the front, first-story window and the back, second-story window.
As you look in the front window, you see three men sitting around a table playing cards. The home appears to be very cluttered. You can easily see piles of paper set on several areas of the floor. There is an exit behind this room that appears to go into a kitchen.
"Knocking worked well last time..." Tusker comments.
"I agree; we're men, not beasts."
Zilroy raps on the door and says: "Master Cran? We have a matter to discus with you."
"I agree; we're men, not beasts."
Tusker grins broadly at that, but steps up behind the priest, his dog standing ready at his side.