The entire group slogs back toward their inn, now a very fragrant bunch indeed. Entering, they see the place is filling up with people, apparently this day is not a workday, what with the parade and so many people at the inn getting an early start on a drinking binge. It's a beautiful day outside, and you pass several groups obviously with big plans.
Attempting to communicate with some of them does not prove fruitful, though, as they seem most put off by the smell and your militant and unfriendly appearance. Most simply run of when you approach.
Approaching the innkeeper, Ullar confronts him about the loss of his goods. The innkeeper bows his head, "I am afraid we are unable to ensure the safety of what is kept within your room. As you most likely know, the rougher elements in this town hold some sway, despite the efforts of our beloved Patriarch to limit them. The guards can only do so much, and at night, the Guild controls the streets. That's why you see so many people here celebrating during the day. I apologize for your loss. If it helps at all, I will grant your whole group another night's rest here for free, in addition to baths." He says that last with a wrinkling of his nose.
Once the party has cleansed themselves, not sure if the offer of a room for another night is necessary or even desirable, they feel much better. The soap was unable to rid Arkady totally of the mung that surrounds him, but his smell is at least tolerable, and the rest of you are able to get quite clean.
Arkady wrinkles his nose and then grins. "Well if we are going to the wrong side of town, it might be best to not smell like a gentleman...."
Those who plan to scour the town bathe first and then begin their business. The innkeeper has no knowledge of a building with crossed swords, and approaching several people at the bar and tables results in a similar lack of knowledge.
And so several members of the group begin hitting the streets. Taglio proves quite able to communicate, and with Caboto's assistance they cover quite some ground. Down two streets from the inn, on Baker's Row, Taglio finally finds an older fellow, rather rough-looking himself, buying some hard-tack.
The man chuckles when asked "Crossed Swords, huh? What are fancy lads like you doin' askin' about a rough place like that? Nah, stick with the Hook and Hatchet, where the guards will keep yer pretty heads nice and safe, or the Silver Cup, where the priests go. Hell even the Dragon's Scales, where the merchants make their deals. But not the Crossed Swords. You both wouldn't last five minutes in that place."
When they insist, he laughs, "On yer head it is. North side of Fogor Isle, across the north bridge. Once you cross the bridge head straight east and you'll track it right enough. Good luck!" He walks away laughing, "You'll need it!"
When he hears the location Rhees slaps his forehead (a mannerism he seems to have borrowed from Forte), "Of Course! This city air has addled my brain! The crossed sword inn on Fogor Isle was where Hrothgar was to take us upon our capture."
Forte looks over at Rhees upon the mention of Hrothgar's name.
"The old woman's vision was truer than we first suspected. I think we are stepping into some grave danger indeed! I don't see that we have a choice, but let us be ready for the worst." Looking around for eavesdroppers, Rhees adds, "When we get close, I can change my appearance and scout out the building some, see if the Bishop's men have a visible armed presence."
Pietro bursts out laughing. "Grave danger! Rhees, ever since I met you guys, we have been in grave danger." After a while, when the urge to laugh is finally over. "Serious now, I am ready to go, have all the things I need. For your information, today I can use my prayer much in the same way as the Sleep spell from the wizards among us. Might probably be useful later."
"Great, but where's Hrothgar now?" asks Forte.
Rhees looks over at Forte with a look of mild surprise, "That's right, you missed the trial!"
Forte looks very surprised at the mention of a trial, but does not interrupt Rhees. He listens intently to the story of Rhees' trial.
"Well, you may as well all get the short version now, we can get into details later. Hrothgar and I got into town OK. On the way, he swore by his gods - those of the Norse - that he was dealing truly with us and had been honest in telling us his tale. I can't believe I let that make a difference, but I guess we all learn. While we were talking, he also revealed an intense fear and distrust of anyone who can handle magic of any sort. Once we got into town he seemed in a rush to get to where we could find a guide. I heard a rumor on the street about a winged mage kidnapping babies and the description sounded an awful lot like someone we know. Hrothgar didn't seem inclined to pursue it though so I just stored it away.
Once we got into a rougher part of town," Rhees smiles, acknowledging that all of Threshold seems pretty rough, "a drunk stumbled into me and accused me of stealing his purse - those of you in court saw him. Knowing I had nothing to do with his purse and assuming, in retrospect mistakenly, that Hrothgar would back me up I summoned the city guard. The guard seemed inclined to dismiss the drunks charges, but then Hrothgar spoke up saying I had tried to bewitch him on our way to town and that I had magically stolen the drunks purse. He was walking off when he spoke to me, in a poor approximation of my native tongue, saying that he apologized but he had a contract to fulfill. Before he could get away, I told the guardsmen that he was mocking them for being so easy to fool. They believed me and took us both into custody. We were held overnight in a single cell and then taken to trial.
I believe the patriarch presiding over the trial used magical means to detect lies, so the proceedings were short. Hrothgar was cleared of any witchcraft related charges, but was held for his banditry with the Scange. Some among us feel that the Patriarch's knowledge of these affairs was too convenient - I wouldn't be surprised if he was back with the Bishop's minions as we speak. I was cleared of the charge of using magic within the town limits when I declared, quite truthfully, that I practiced no sorcery."
"Hrothgar was held for banditry. Good--now I don't have to track him down and kill him for turning you in on false charges." Forte looks thoughtful for a second. "Do you think we should tell them where we left those other Scange members tied up a few days ago? I wonder if they're still alive?" Forte says with a satisfied grin. In a more serious note he adds, "How long can someone last tied up outside with no food or water, anyway?"
"As far as Hrothgar goes, don't rule him out yet," says Rhees. The others should last a couple of days - assuming other brigands or wild animals don't get to them. As far as I'm concerned, their leader has proven they can't be trusted - I don't care if they are slowly and simultaneously killed by hunger, thirst, wild animals and bandits."
"Well," Forte laughs, "I wasn't planning on running back to save them or anything." He shudders. "What a horrible way to go." Glancing down at his chest, he adds, "But I can think of at least one worse way to die." Forte absentmindedly scratches his chest lightly, reliving the acid attack for a brief moment.
For the first time, which can only be confirmed by the non-present Rhune, Ullar shrugs on an issue regarding humanity. The warrior is remarkably silent the last couple of hours; the hours he was informed of Hrothgar's betrayal. For the ones amongst the group who pay a lot attention to details, Ullar's eyes are no longer the wide open blue eyes, but a narrow pair of eyes, closely watching their surroundings.
By the time you have managed to retrieve everyone from the inn and get them on the same page, the sun has fallen into the western sky and dusk is upon you. Knowing that you don't have time to spare if you want to rescue Rhune, you make your best time. Asking a few locals where the north bridge is results in wide eyes and pointed fingers, which you follow easily enough.
Reaching it, you see that it is a sturdy bridge, stone built to last. As you approach, you see a guard patrol crossing over from the Isle to the east. Moving up toward the bridge, the guards there size you up, "Not the best idea ta be headin' over to Fogor at night. You all look armed enough, but I'll warrant you ain't ready for what you'll find over there."
He shrugs his shoulders, "Long as you know that we don't patrol out there at night. Too dangerous. If you call for us, we'll do our best to cross over and bring you out, but the Guild don't like us 'restin' any of their boys, and so that's the best we can do" He motions grandly toward the bridge, "Good luck, yer gonna need it!" He chuckles.
Not feeling particularly good about all the comments, nonetheless the group stays in a tight formation, assuming that no one will bother such a large company. As you walk the sun seems to go down at a rapid pace, and the shadows lengthen, some of which are definitely moving. The streets do not seem much inhabited, though a few rough drunks seem to be headed toward taverns someplace else in town. Any gestures to them are responded to most rudely.
Following the man in the Bakershop's directions, you come upon a truly decrepit dock area. The warehouses look shabby at best, and the jetties don't look like they should even be in the water. The boats at them are little more than rowboats. Floating around the area are several stevedores, a dozen at least, menacing fellows with nasty hooks. They look to be about to finish unloading one of the larger floating derelicts.
It is interesting to note, however, that several of them do not appear to be working, and none appear to be putting much effort in. Looking down the dock a ways, you see a rotten old building with a crooked sign hanging out front. The sign bears the emblem of broadswords crossed against each other. You see no traffic going in or out. Indeed, the front door appears to be closed.
The laborers never seem to get too far away from this door, though their duties should be carrying them over to one of the warehouses by now. Were these fellows working for you, you would see fit to dock their pay. Lazy layabouts!
Arkady looks at the inn and snorts. "How subtle of the guild."
Under his breath, Rhees mutters, "Their guards are as skilled at disguise and subtlety as we are." Just in case, Rhees takes a second look at the 'stevedores' to see if any of them look like Hrothgar. He also looks to see if there is an alley or corner he could duck around where an emerging stevedore wouldn't seem out of place.
There are several such alleys between the dock warehouses, any one of which Rhees could easily emerge from without drawing undue attention. As he is scanning, he sees a shadowy figure hanging just inside one of these alleys.
Expressing his confidence, Ullar steps forwards toward the building with the crossed swords. With a wild move, he opens the door, quickly entering the room to see what's in it.
Drawing his sword, Forte quickly follows Ullar to watch his back.
"Forte, Put that thing away!!" Arkady says as he lurches forward, acting drunkenly. He staggers up to the inn with many grand nods and bows to the stevedores. He swishes his hat around most drunkenly as he enters the inn.
Manus follows directly, making it a trio of tanks heading for the door. The men on the dock do not stop their activity, though those who are paying a bit more attention note that their pretense of work becomes even more obvious, as they are clearly watching the party now.
Nonetheless, they do not interfere with the big fellas moving in. Ullar sees the door is closed but not locked, and kicks it open, walking boldly in. Rhees notes that when he does this, the shadowy figure in the alley vanishes.
Rhees mentions the apparent spy to those still outside. "I wonder who he's going to warn," he says. "Should we follow and find out, look out for an ambush from here or join our larger more impetuous friends?"
Inside, the three in the vanguard note that this place is totally dark, no lights at all, dusty and cob-webbed, and pervaded by a nasty stench. The place is two-storied, but you see no staircase leading up from here. The bar, for that is clearly what this place is, doesn't look like it's had any bartender for years. There are two doors, one leading north and the other east, behind the bar, and the few remaining tables are broken, the chairs smashed.
As you three debate where to go, suddenly a long green arm smashes through the floor, grabs Manus by the ankle, and yanks him down into what appears to be a cellar. Whatever the thing is that grabbed him does not seem pleased with what it grabbed, as it screams horribly, apparently Manus is not going to be taken so easily.
"What the hell!" exclaims Forte, greatly surprised by the direction of the attack.
Rushing toward the hole created in the shabby floor when Manus descended. Ullar and Forte can only see furtive figures lunging at each other in the darkness. Whatever Manus is fighting is huge and very nasty looking, holding no weapon that the others can see. Looking about, neither can see an easier way down than jumping through the smashed hole, which very likely will make them easy prey for the monster.
Manus is hacking away at the thing maniacally, though, forcing it back with every smashing blow of his long sword. Finally, he appears to drive it off, as it goes shrieking backward. He looks up for some help, either you descending or him ascending.
After transferring his sword to his left hand Forte reaches down, offering his right hand to help Manus us. "What do you see down there?" he asks.
When the screams and sounds of a fight echo forth, Arkady casts off his pretense of drunkenness, draws his blades and runs for the door. Seeing that Forte is pulling Manus up, the Russian turns and keeps the door safe against any intrusion by hook wielding stevedores.
"Some inn!!! Wherever are we going to quench our thirst??" He chuckles mirthlessly.
Seeing Arkady head for the inn, Rhees shrugs, "I guess we head towards the inn." When he reaches the door, Rhees takes up watch with Taglio. "Tag, if those stevedores are joined by more friends, do you think they'll even believe, or be bothered by a group of city guard coming around that corner." Rhees nods towards the corner he intends, "could you supply the appropriate sounds?"
Pietro slowly walks into the inn. "Do you guys need a light up here, I've got a torch if you want it." When the cellar where Manus is pulled in, Pietro gets a torch from his backpack, and lights it using his flint and steel. In the meantime he is muttering a bit. Some of you get the few f the words. "Could do with a good .. detect lies ... what the! ..." The elf is finally able to light the torch, and uses the light to look at the situation around him.
Ullar looks at Forte while he helps Manus back up. "Ok, this is going to be not as easy as I hoped, but what do we expect; we're double crossed, stolen, accused and wanted, so why would the Gods make it easy for us. Manus, could you see the thing you were fighting? All I saw was some green tentacle which grabbed you by your ankle."
Forte continues to struggle with hefting Manus out of the cellar while striving not to smash the floor and join him. Seeing everything in hand, Ullar moves back toward the door where Arkady stands guard.
Since Manus seems to be adequately protected, Tag draws out his lantern and rapier and stands at the door to the 'tavern'. He guards the entrance and watches the 'stevedores' closely, ready to warn of any approaching danger from the outside of the inn.
As he does so he begins a little ditty to lift the spirits of those in this dark place.
What do you do when surrounded, by bad guys at every turn, What if they beat and attack you. do you run for the hills of your home?
No, I get by with a little help from my friends, yeah, I get high with a little help from my friends, Gonna try with a little help from my friends.
If you were kidnapped, cut, tortured and burned, would you give up all hope of reprieve? Or if it seemed that all hope was lost, would you tell them the secrets they need?
No, I get by with a little help from my friends, yeah, I get high with a little help from my friends, Gonna try with a little help from my friends.
Ullar and Manus and Forte and Arkady, will save me from tragedy's pet, Rhees and Caboto, friends to the last, I'll see you in paradise yet.
No, I get by with a little help from my friends, yeah, I get high with a little help from my friends, Gonna try with a little help from my friends.
"Anyway, we're here in a deserted bar, hoping to find a lead. Let's be very, very careful and search this place; there must be some link to Rhune here. Perhaps we can ask the lads outside who is the owner of this place. I'll go asking them right away!" says Ullar, while stepping out and moving towards the busy men 'working' at the docks.
"Hey! Who is the owner of that bar? We were told we could find a good shelter here, and plenty of drinks, but it's as deserted as you can get a tavern!" yells Ullar, avoiding his Florence accent to the best of his abilities.
Pietro grins at Ullar. "Your foul mood is getting the best of you sometimes, my friend. Look at the situation with a clear mind, you will be able to see a lot better that way."
"Hrmpf.. it's rather difficult to see things clearly when your mind is clouded.... with storm clouds." says Ullar, the frustration dripping from his voice.
The grin doesn't leave Pietro's face. "Storm clouds, no thank you, I do not particularly fancy rain. Why worry about things you cannot change. We can only try. You've done more for this cause than most of us." Pietro shrugs, as if the situation is totally clear to him
Arkady shakes his head wearily as Ullar barges back out. He grips his weapons tightly, knowing that a confrontation cannot be far away.