5.20.2005
Greyhelm: Cinder's Story Part II
Cinder, you don't really work the charm, and all the tic-tac magic in the world ain't gonna help. But you sense maybe it's alright if you're not the most dashing hero in the bar right now. As for the pick-pocketing, though, make a contested pick pockets roll! No, it ain't Fink, you figure it probably happened while waiting for your brews at the bar. You have to roll 30% or under, or lose 1d20 gp. Make the rolls.
Okay, Cinder and Dave, Fink and his pal take you through Haggi's, down some more stairs, down a hall, down even more stairs to a heavily guarded room, knock on a door, short guarded hall, stout door. Knock on the door. A beautiful elf chick opens the door. Fink says "Hey there Jen. The boss man busy?" She looks at him, looks at you guys, shuts the door, a moment passes, she opens the door a bit wider and motions with her head for you to enter.
You step into a nicely arranged office. The only thing missing is the waterfront view. Big oak desk, high backed leather chair, portrait above the desk, tasteful potted spider plant in an urn on a pedastal over there, two 4th level fighters, weapon spec in kicking your ass. Seated on the chair is a middle-aged guy with all gold teeth.
"Hey Thomas, nice of you to drop in once in a while. I miss our chats" he says, apparently with all sincerity to Fink. "Uh, yeah, sorry boss, you know, shit comes up." The boss nods solemnly- "that it does my boy... that it does. So who are you two friends over there?"
Thomas Fink introduces you: "This is Cinder and that's his pal Dave, priest of Odin. Guys, meet the boss of the Blackwall Thiefs Greyhelm Chapter, Mr. Dougin Grimes."
Grimes smiles, fills a tumbler three fingers of scotch. The elf girl takes out a pair of silver tongs and drops in an ice cube. Grimes smiles even wider at her and says "just the way I like it." Doesn't drink it yet, just holds the glass and considers the two of you.
"Odin, huh? Not a sloucher that one. Noo sir. Me, I'm not much of a religious man. Pay some tithes, try to keep the boys from mugging nuns, just a hard working bloke. But the question," he says, leaning a little closer over the desk, "isn't who you are; not even what god you do or don't serve or in what capacity." He raises his glass, elbow on the desk. "The question is exactly this: do you want to be a playa?"
You guys aren't sure if he's right about that being the central question right now, but you're willing to hear him out. "Now, I got a lot going on... Fink and the fellas are round-abouts doing this-or-that, and you might be surprised how much effort it takes to, and I'll speak plainly here, being as I am in the presence of a man of god, how much effort it takes to do some crime. Good, honest crime." He's saying words, and his sentences are grammatically correct, but you're not sure of the message here. So he spells it out.
"I have no problem, absolutely no problem if you sir," addressing you Cinder, "want to do some honest crime yourself. Pick a pocket, climb a wall, open a lock, there's a lot to go around. But now, again, I'll ask you a question, and I'm not being rhetorical here... do you want to be a playa? If no, then I tip my hat to you sir, let's have a highball, and you can pilfer coins at your pleasure up in the market square. And I'll ask that you not step foot in Helmetown upon pain of death. Speaking plainly here."
"The DuMont Chess Club, on the other hand, might want to have words with you, given that picture in your pocket. So you met Stewart, did him in as old Bennett would've said." He gestures to the painting of the thief above his head. It's a painting of your basic thief in leather armor, short sword and dagger in the boot, climbing a wall of a castle. It's good, and you get the connection with the Blackwall gang, but it's an oddly literal rendition of, well, a low level thief.
"Stewart is what the DuMont Club calls a pawn. Legman for their operation, if you can call it that. They're the guild that operates outside the city walls, and I'll be damned if, although they've got a couple good footpads among them, they're not in the business of honest crime. Cheap shots, indiscriminate murder, animal pets, it's all very strange. Even their name is a little... well, just a little off." At this he finally takes a sip of that scotch, and really seems to enjoy it.
Finally, he seems to be getting around to the point. "So let me come to the point. We'll let you walk out of here, and you can take your chances in Greyhelm, beyond, our great Odin-blessed world" nodding to Dave "and as long as you don't work in Helmetown or interfere with our extra-Helmet operations, then I wish you GOOD DAY."
"On the other hand... maybe you'd like to work something out with us?" He raises an eyebrow, seems to toast you and take another sip. "Being new in town has some advantages, and I've a really nice, just as nice as could be, interesting little job that needs a fresh approach. But first I'd need to see how you handle the pressure."
Pause for effect, and leaning even further across the desk, Grimes finishes his very long speech: "If you'd like to come to a mutually-beneficial and financially-rewarding agreement, you'll have to take the... Blackwall Thiefs Challenge. Downstairs is a training hall. You'll have to climb up a wall, move silently into shadows and hide, wait for the guard to pass, pick his pocket for the key, open the door with the key, enter the treasure chamber, open the lock with your picks, removing the two traps along the way, get out, backstab the guard (don't worry... he's used to it), and climb back down the wall. It's not so much about success as about style. Well, maybe about success. We wouldn't be the Blackwall Thiefs if we were a bunch of fashionable failures now, would we!" He seems to find this funny and laughs, finishing his scotch.
"Well, what say you?" If you're in, Cinder, go ahead and roll your checks and tell me what happens. If not, Fink and the boys show you out unless you want to rumble.
Okay, Cinder and Dave, Fink and his pal take you through Haggi's, down some more stairs, down a hall, down even more stairs to a heavily guarded room, knock on a door, short guarded hall, stout door. Knock on the door. A beautiful elf chick opens the door. Fink says "Hey there Jen. The boss man busy?" She looks at him, looks at you guys, shuts the door, a moment passes, she opens the door a bit wider and motions with her head for you to enter.
You step into a nicely arranged office. The only thing missing is the waterfront view. Big oak desk, high backed leather chair, portrait above the desk, tasteful potted spider plant in an urn on a pedastal over there, two 4th level fighters, weapon spec in kicking your ass. Seated on the chair is a middle-aged guy with all gold teeth.
"Hey Thomas, nice of you to drop in once in a while. I miss our chats" he says, apparently with all sincerity to Fink. "Uh, yeah, sorry boss, you know, shit comes up." The boss nods solemnly- "that it does my boy... that it does. So who are you two friends over there?"
Thomas Fink introduces you: "This is Cinder and that's his pal Dave, priest of Odin. Guys, meet the boss of the Blackwall Thiefs Greyhelm Chapter, Mr. Dougin Grimes."
Grimes smiles, fills a tumbler three fingers of scotch. The elf girl takes out a pair of silver tongs and drops in an ice cube. Grimes smiles even wider at her and says "just the way I like it." Doesn't drink it yet, just holds the glass and considers the two of you.
"Odin, huh? Not a sloucher that one. Noo sir. Me, I'm not much of a religious man. Pay some tithes, try to keep the boys from mugging nuns, just a hard working bloke. But the question," he says, leaning a little closer over the desk, "isn't who you are; not even what god you do or don't serve or in what capacity." He raises his glass, elbow on the desk. "The question is exactly this: do you want to be a playa?"
You guys aren't sure if he's right about that being the central question right now, but you're willing to hear him out. "Now, I got a lot going on... Fink and the fellas are round-abouts doing this-or-that, and you might be surprised how much effort it takes to, and I'll speak plainly here, being as I am in the presence of a man of god, how much effort it takes to do some crime. Good, honest crime." He's saying words, and his sentences are grammatically correct, but you're not sure of the message here. So he spells it out.
"I have no problem, absolutely no problem if you sir," addressing you Cinder, "want to do some honest crime yourself. Pick a pocket, climb a wall, open a lock, there's a lot to go around. But now, again, I'll ask you a question, and I'm not being rhetorical here... do you want to be a playa? If no, then I tip my hat to you sir, let's have a highball, and you can pilfer coins at your pleasure up in the market square. And I'll ask that you not step foot in Helmetown upon pain of death. Speaking plainly here."
"The DuMont Chess Club, on the other hand, might want to have words with you, given that picture in your pocket. So you met Stewart, did him in as old Bennett would've said." He gestures to the painting of the thief above his head. It's a painting of your basic thief in leather armor, short sword and dagger in the boot, climbing a wall of a castle. It's good, and you get the connection with the Blackwall gang, but it's an oddly literal rendition of, well, a low level thief.
"Stewart is what the DuMont Club calls a pawn. Legman for their operation, if you can call it that. They're the guild that operates outside the city walls, and I'll be damned if, although they've got a couple good footpads among them, they're not in the business of honest crime. Cheap shots, indiscriminate murder, animal pets, it's all very strange. Even their name is a little... well, just a little off." At this he finally takes a sip of that scotch, and really seems to enjoy it.
Finally, he seems to be getting around to the point. "So let me come to the point. We'll let you walk out of here, and you can take your chances in Greyhelm, beyond, our great Odin-blessed world" nodding to Dave "and as long as you don't work in Helmetown or interfere with our extra-Helmet operations, then I wish you GOOD DAY."
"On the other hand... maybe you'd like to work something out with us?" He raises an eyebrow, seems to toast you and take another sip. "Being new in town has some advantages, and I've a really nice, just as nice as could be, interesting little job that needs a fresh approach. But first I'd need to see how you handle the pressure."
Pause for effect, and leaning even further across the desk, Grimes finishes his very long speech: "If you'd like to come to a mutually-beneficial and financially-rewarding agreement, you'll have to take the... Blackwall Thiefs Challenge. Downstairs is a training hall. You'll have to climb up a wall, move silently into shadows and hide, wait for the guard to pass, pick his pocket for the key, open the door with the key, enter the treasure chamber, open the lock with your picks, removing the two traps along the way, get out, backstab the guard (don't worry... he's used to it), and climb back down the wall. It's not so much about success as about style. Well, maybe about success. We wouldn't be the Blackwall Thiefs if we were a bunch of fashionable failures now, would we!" He seems to find this funny and laughs, finishing his scotch.
"Well, what say you?" If you're in, Cinder, go ahead and roll your checks and tell me what happens. If not, Fink and the boys show you out unless you want to rumble.
