Waterdeep: Dragon Heist

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"I'm glad we were able to settle this matter amicably," Tristan says. Taking a seat at the bar, he focuses more on enjoying the pie than the conversation about money.

His ears perk up again when Alveron mentions Floon. "Neverember was here last night? Was it just for the gambling or did he mention something else?" Taking a final swig of his beer, Tristan stands. "And can you tell us any more about the man with the serpent tattoo?"
 
"The Neverember boy was here two nights past with the escort. He came to gamble and left with his friend, if he had any other business, he didn't mention it here." The barman replied, looking to the others who corroborated his statement. The barman shook his head, "Not much to tell of the serpent tattoo either. He hasn't been seen before nor since. Came dressed in dark clothes, looked a bit thuggish, I gave 'im the same warning I gave yous lot. Ya don't start shit in me bar and I don't care what yer here for, long as yer payin' fer yer ales."
 
Ignoring her meat pie for a moment Alveron carried the mugs to the various people at the tables, giving them each a wide smile as she set the new tankards before them, taking a moment to study their features, before winking to a few of them, gathering empty tankards to be returned to the bar, 'And even more personas collected -- this has been a very productive day so far.' Placing them aside Alveron resumed her seat, taking a swig from her own tankard before continuing, "So the lil' lord came 'round? He often visit? Flauntin' his wealth and tryin' his hand at the tables?"

She glanced around the place, "Must really liven up at night, huh? Might come visit when I don't have a shift, see how the Skewered Dragon handles the late crowds. Guess either the serpent tattoo really stood out, or ya really know your usual crowd to be so confident he hadn't been here before." Taking another swig she glanced out the windows toward the corner that was pointed out, "Heh, guess we'll be visitin' Xoblob once more sooner than expected." Finishing off the pie, Alveron clapped her hands free of crumbs, "Anyone else that night maybe hadn't seen before? Or any arguments at the table of the escort when Lady Tymora might've been acting fickle?"
 
The old man begins collecting and cleaning the used tankards that Alveron had returned, "Neither o' them are what ya'd call regulars. Renaer's been round a time or two. The escort only comes when the company he keeps wants a dive." He laughs, "I know my place ain't the nicest, but it's got its charm."

He nods, "Aye, at night I've wenches who serve and the boys here run cards at each table. Keeps the sailors drunk and busy and everyone makes a buck. Tha' serpent tattoo weren't no sea dragon, one of them damn winged beasts, but not like my bar's namesake." He uttered a phrase and held his hand out palm up, a tiny silver dragon appeared for a moment showing the not entirely unfamiliar sigil of the Zhentarim. "When somethan' strange wanders through my door, I take note. Ya don't own a bar in the Dock Ward without knowin' how ta spot trouble." He scratches his head, thinking, "Plenty o' new faces every night lass, you know how many ships come and go through the docks in the spring? I've got cheap ale, plenty of cards, and ladies who'll show you a better time than ol' Lady Luck. Nothin' really out of the usual though, your friend came with 'is writer. Left with the Lord, and was followed by the tattooed man, that's all I got."
 

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Tristan sighs, "Well this just became a whole new thing. Back to the people shop then, and if Xoblob can't help I think we need return to the Yawning Portal."

To the bartender he says "thank you for your help. I'm sure we'll return one night, under happier circumstances."
 
Stepping outside the bar, Tristan checks to make sure they're out of earshot of anyone passing by on the street. "If we don't get anything out of Xoblob, I think we need to head back and talk to Yagra. If Floon was actually kidnapped by the Zhentarim she's the best lead we have to find him. She's involved in their gang war with the Xanathar's Guild at least, so if Floon is a noncombatant she could possibly help us recover him."
 
The five of you travel back up the street and turn the corner. Xoblob's shop sits, just as purple as you'd left it. Opening the door, once again the thick violet smoke and scent of lavender fill your senses. Xoblob looks over from his place on the counter, "Back so soon? No refun..." He stops as Yorin enters. "What, uh... what can I do for you lot of welcome and valued customers?"
 
Alveron waved a hand in the air, "Nope -- no refunds, we went to get some drinks, some food, and found out, you might be able to help us." She looked over the shelves once more, "'Sides just purple trinkets."

Moving to the counter where the gnome sat she gestured to the window, "We were passin' by earlier, actually tryin' to find yet another few friends. I told ya before how I enjoy makin' friends, yeah? We were told they walked past your little corner, but dunno where they went beyond that. One we're lookin' for is the young Lord Neverember, an' the other an escort he might've collected two nights past. Human, male, red-blond wavy hair, and dressed like a lord 'imself."

Alveron sighed, "Dislike goin' in circles, but here we are. Anythin' ya can share with some friends, Saer Xoblob?"
 
"I didn't know you were lookin'. I swear it, honest. Would have told you the first time if you'd said anything." He tried to explain himself quickly before getting to the point.

"Neverember; name rings a bell, but I don't know what he looks like... the other one though, sounds familiar. Pair a redheaded nobles walked by few nights back. They got jumped by some of those Zhent thugs just up the street. I was just about to slip out and get a bite to eat, but... I ended up stayin' in. They looked like those guys that have been hold up in Candle Lane for the last few months. I don't know what they did with the lords, I just got back inside quick as can be, locked the door and pretended I wasn't home. No one came knockin' so I doubt they saw me."

The words spilled from the small man in a flurry, he seemed very eager to share as his eye darted back and forth between Yorrin and Alveron. He took a few puffs on his pipe, "Does that help at all? You need to know where Candle Lane is? Just head back north, make the next left, and look for the sign on your right."
 
Alveron smiled, raising her hands, "No need to panic! We're friends now, it's fine. That sounds like the two we're after though."

Cracking her knuckles with a strange smile, Alveron turned back towards the door, "The search continues, many thanks, Saer Xoblob."
 
Yorin's thoughts had been a whirl since discovering his sister's blade in Xoblob's shoppe. He lumbered behind his companions, still overwhelmed by the familiar scent mixed with the foreign smell of his quarry, as he followed them through the Skewered Dragon and back out. As they reentered Xoblob's shop once more, the offensive odors of the lavender perfume returned him to his se"nses. He looked down at the gnome and nodded to him. "Thank you for your assistance, tiny old man. Sorry for the earlier unpleasantness. You've been helpful. Good luck with selling your purple painted trash." He raised a hand in farewell before following Alveron out the door.
 
You all leave from Old Xoblob's Shop and head down the street, following the directions you were given. Finally you come upon an alley which is marked with a sign, Candle Lane. Alveron recognizes some Thieves' Cant marking around the sign; they mark the street as gang territory - this is not a place where thieves and ruffians are welcome to shake anyone down.

Gloom envelops the narrow alley as dark as a dungeon - and as odorous as one, too. Nearly all the streetlamps have been smashed and the building on either side of Candle Lane are so tall and tightly packed that no sunlight shines down on the street. The only light that pierces the darkness is a faint flickering from down the lane, like a distant candle.
 
Alveron glanced at the alleyway with a frown, wishing they actually had the darkvision their personas did. Looking along the wall, they caught sight of some Cant, warning who the turf belonged to and she sighed.

Turning back to the party, Alveron pulled her coin of Tymora out of her pocket, nearly pulling the small mechanical crab at the same time as it seemed to have somehow latched onto the coin. Spinning the coin between her fingers she turned back with a frown, then began tapping the coin against the side of the small mechanical crab, it's tings and clatterings echoing into the alley.

To the group she seemed to be mindlessly tapping, just a nervous tick perhaps, but her tapping had a pattern hidden underneath it, echoing into the alley, "Not here for trouble -- looking for two who don't fit -- noble and escort -- two red heads, male," as she spoke to the group itself, "Well ... looks like we might need ta turn 'round, doesn't look like a friendly place, yanno?"

Alveron smirked, "Young lady like m'self, at some awful risk bein' here." She kept tapping out her message, pausing to wait for a response every so often before starting again.
 
Tristan gives Alveron a weird look the first time she starts tapping the metal together, eventually letting it drop as she continues every so often. Shrugging to the others, he steps further into the dark alley.

Standing between two busted light posts, Tristan fishes a golden coin from his pocket. He holds it to his face and whispers something, and suddenly it flashes to life, dousing the alley in warm golden light for dozens of feet. "That's better, " Tristan says as he begins to look around.

Looking down, he sees a collection of foot and claw marks, and two long ruts in the soft ground. "This must be where they were jumped. Probably knocked out and dragged away --wouldn't make much sense to take a corpse. Not sure what else to make of it. Alveron, you have anything to add? "

He looks up at the group again. "Definitely seems like it's bigger than just Floon though, from what I heard Neverember hasn't been seen in a couple days either. I think he might've been the main target and Floon was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. "
 
The hobgoblin nods along, reaching the same conclusion. "Bigger might be better. We could stand to get paid more than once."
 
Not hearing any responses, Alveron put both the coin and the mechanical crab back in her pouch for now, then turned to inspect the alley with Tristan. Running her fingers along the claw marks her brow wrinkled, unsure really what could have made such things.

Hearing their name mentioned they turned back to Tristan, "Sorry, not really an animal person, so dunno what made these claw marks, but they've got me worried." She crouched near the foot prints before adding, "Five sets ... human, then the two ruts of boots being dragged. Not much struggle ... so like Xoblob said, surprised, and if the two weren't used to defendin' themselves, didn't put up much of a fight." She glanced up towards the party, "What's got me concerned though is Xoblob said this place was home to Zhents, and even th' cant on the walls says it's their turf ... yet I don't hear anyone, and no one 'replied'." She smiled, "Wasn't just tappin' for my own sake."

Standing she dusted off her hands from the dirt and adjusted the swords resting on her belt, squinting down further into the alley. "Think Floon might'a been caught up in somethin' else that was aimin' for the young Lord. Think we're gonna need to see where this trail leads us, but be careful. Anyone who is here is gonna know this place better'n we will."
 
Tristan holds the coin aloft, throwing the light as far as he can manage. "You think there's nobody here, or you think they're taking care not to be seen at the moment?" he asks Alveron, before taking another few steps along the trail of boot marks.
 
Running her fingers through her hair, Alveron worked on fixing her braid again as she replied, "Hmm ... it's hard to tell truly. Generally, if the group's big enough, someone fucks up and sneezes or coughs while they're tryin' ta hide." Tying off the braid she continued, "The message I did with my coin, would probably get somethin' back. Either way, if we're goin' forward, I'd rather be prepared than caught off guard like our misplaced friends."
 
You cautiously head down the lane toward the lone light in the distance, prepared for any dangers that might jump out. In the light from Tristain's coin you can see the ruts in the ground and follow them deeper and deeper into the alley until they turn through an open gate toward a warehouse door. The very same warehouse that sits outside a broken, but lit, street lamp.

The warehouse is a two-story ram-shackle building set back away from the lane slightly by a large yard out front. The yard, for holding carts and cargo, is surrounded by a large iron fence, the gate hangs ajar. The building itself has a standard size door directly across from the gate as well as a larger loading bay door, and off to the left a painted over window. Approaching the building, you can clearly see the black winged serpent of the Zhentarim painted just above the handle of the standard size door.
 
"Let's get to it, then." Szilard says in a low voice. "Last time we saw a Zhent, we kept her in one piece, maybe we can keep friendly."
 
Keeping with the group, Alveron spoke softly, "You guys are still assumin' the half-orc woman even was Zhent. Could'a just been an excuse to throw a punch."

Standing outside the gates, Alveron listening to the area, hearing a strange scraping noise. As she moved to mention it to the group, her expression turned to one of disbelief as Tristan casually approached the door and knocked. The sound echoing out, Alveron kept her hands on her shortswords just in case, holding her breath -- waiting for someone to yell out, for something to trigger ... only for the strange noise to transition to rustling ... then that faded as well.

Groaning internally, Alveron stepped lightly towards the door, giving a sideways glance to the shiny Cleric as she stood next to the door, finally kneeling next to it as she looked it over. Glancing at the party she spoke softly as she pulled out her tool kit, deciding which would be most relevant here, "So ... guess we're goin' in? Gimme a minute, see if I can get this open for us."

Without even a hint of difficulty, she managed to pop the lock ... frowning as she put her things away, for a gang who seemed to protect their turf, it almost felt too easy. Gingerly she pressed against the door to try and push it open, readying herself for what might be on the other side.
 
The door opens into a large flat space for storing things, tables and chairs have been carelessly tossed across the floor. The corpses of a dozen men lie along the walls, their rapiers and daggers lying nearby. On the north side of the area, stairs rise to an open level above.

Looking at the corpses, all are clad in dark leather armor, five of them bare the black winged serpent of the Zhentarim. Of the others, only one has an identifying mark, a tattoo on the back of his right hand, a circle with ten spokes radiating outward.

As you enter the space and begin looking around, four short, avian creatures with long beaks and black feathers jump out from the shadows. Each wears a hooded cloak and wields a shortsword. Alveron had heard the scratching and the fumbling she was prepared for this however there was no time to react and it caught the rest of the party is caught by surprise.
 
Yorin raised an eyebrow as Tristain walked over and knocked on the door, and shrugged at the lack of a response. He kept an eye out as Alveron fiddled with the door, and followed after her, trusting her senses. When their avian attackers sprung out, Yorin snarled, barely feeling the blade that sank into him. He let out a howl as he ripped his greataxe from his back and slammed it into the kenku that struck him cleaving it in half. He growled, his grip on his axe tight as he looked for his next target.
 
Caught off-guard by the sudden attack, Tristan is unable to bring his shield up in time to deflect the first blow and is left stunned and bleeding from the head. He takes a second to reorient himself as the skirmish rages around him, then raises his hands and engulfs three of the kenku in jets of flame.
 
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