The ever-alert cannon fodder, Ander the Halfling of the streets of Elturel, had his keen ears tuned in, even while he slept. Waking to the familiar sounds of lock picks tinkering at his door, the light-footed man slinked towards the door to get the drop on the interloper. Unfortunately, a warped floorboard gave away Ander’s position. When the door gently opened, the eager Halfling took a swing at the man kneeling there, but swung too high.
At that same moment, the door to the girls’ room creaked open, revealing a man kneeling in their doorway as well. The meditative ‘Little Bird’ was alert and ready to take flight just as this occurred.
Soon it was clear that both rooms, across from each other, were being invaded by more of the mysterious attackers that ambushed them in Sow’s Foot. A veritable landslide of assassins began their attack against the sleepy Heroes. Xin, didn’t even hear the first of them come in before she was attacked.
One by one, the men in black dealt surgical, trained, near-lethal blows to our struggling team of superior heroes. But, one by one, they fell beneath the blades, fists, and arcane blasts from the heroic and more than capable team of adventurers.
It looked bleak for a few moments, when the invaders unleashed divine blasts of their own, but then the rugged, old bartender, Klalbrot rushed onto the scene – crushing the skull of one of the dark clerics. Rallying behind his appearance, the rest of the attackers were taken out. A few well-placed blows took out a particularly large man who seemed to be the leader of this crew.
Recovering from this attack, Klalbrot and Vogel ran to see what other damage they may have caused – only to discover the strange and disturbing fact that the front door of the Inn was still locked… from the inside! They could smell something foul afoot, but were still unsure what it may be. Investigating further, they found the bartenders’ partner, Brunkhurn, in his downstairs room asleep. He was particularly rattled by the news and ran off to find the Upper City Watch. They checked upstairs too, encountering the reclusive third owner, Alastar, to find no other signs of disturbance or entry.
Meanwhile, Xin applied some pressure to the five remaining peons to survive the attack, trying to get some answers. Most were too far gone to respond, and the one the she could rouse didn’t seem to either know what or how to answer the rangers’ threats – even after she sliced the throat of a dying attacker to intimidate the man.
Uruag tried her own interrogation tactics on the giant leader – his furrowed brow almost reminiscent of her own orcish heritage. Straddling the man, she tried inflicting pain, poking him, prodding him, squeezing him – but the man only seemed to take sadistic joy from the green-skinned woman. His lewd comments were accompanied by licking the side of her face, relishing this moment. He clearly wasn’t going to budge.
The Watch finally arrived, being led by a real pencil pushing, by-the-book asshole named Vigilar Cyne. He briefly questioned Vogel and the team, praising their heroism, but chastised their reckless behavior. Leaving them in the care of Sarmar Igert for further questioning, the rest of the Watch headed upstairs to take care of the villains there.
Trying to avoid being brought back to the Watch Citadel, the clever gnome and Halfling team came up with a plan to feign fainting, which Ander did and Supe tended to with perfect deception. While “caring” for Ander, the Heroes of Elturel, of the Wide, of Sow’s Foot, and now the Three Old Kegs, answered all of Igert’s questions honestly.
While he retreated upstairs to report to Cyne, the Heroes investigated the absent Brunkhurn’s room. The silent Halfling slipped inside, and found a few items of interest among the innkeepers’ things: the inns register and a locked away sack of gems and letters. The letters appeared to be from many different people requesting that Brunkhurn keep an eye on the comings and goings of these various citizens, presumably, for a price.
Chewing on this information, the Heroes and the now rejoined gruff, but affable Klalbrot shared a few drinks, some fine elven rye, trying to digest the goings on that have so been haunting them.
They watch a few of the Watch, including Cyne, leave with three of the prisoners on makeshift stretchers, including the big leader. They implied they will be returning for the remaining mess.
With these attacks increasing, it appears as if the Heroes may be on the right track, as they have clearly upset someone. Will their victory this day send a signal to lay off? Will the pressure only increase? What do those demon worshipers have planned? Will the decrease of civil liberties and class warfare continue to strain the city’s main walls? And will that tubby wool trader be the megalomaniacal sheep tyrant we all assume he is? Check it out, this week, on “The Sundering.”