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Ptolus: Midwood - "The Dark Waters of Moss Pond"
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<blockquote data-quote="Whizbang Dustyboots" data-source="post: 3908151" data-attributes="member: 11760"><p>"Not so tough now, are you?" Ragglus sneers as he wipes the blood from his spear, turning to spit on the recently deceased Manfred Richter.</p><p></p><p>"Of course!" Katadid shouts. "An illusion to help cover the tracks of the deal made with the Reavers!"</p><p></p><p>Then Kat sees Ragglus wipe another sentient being's blood off his spear. He turns very pale. He runs toward one corner of the cave, trying to outrace the return of his last meal.</p><p></p><p>Renraw, who slumps against the upturned table, nods sagely, proud of himself. He rubs his hand on his wound.</p><p></p><p>"Don't heal it, Chandler. We'll leave the scar."</p><p></p><p>After ascertaining the goblin is well and truly gone -- and that the cave is about half a mile from town and concealed deep within a maze of blackberry bushes -- the Delvers search the two rooms.</p><p></p><p>The bag in the altar turns out to have 25 platinum dragons inside, along with a ceremonial adamantine dagger set with small rubies and two flasks marked with labeled "healing."</p><p></p><p>Under the goblin's straw bed in the final cave, the Delvers drag out a metal strongbox. Not having the ability to pick the lock, Ragglus delicately stomps on the lid until the box breaks open. As he stoops to pick it up, Katadid slaps his hand away, pointing at the needle jabbing out of the lock following Ragglus' rough use. The Delvers carefully open the box and discover most of Manfred's funds to pay the Black Reavers: 222 gold thrones, 13 assorted gems, a silver pin set with citrines, a coral statuette of a siren and a platinum disc studded with tiny emeralds.</p><p></p><p>Renraw has almost squirreled the papers off Manfred's desk into his bag with none of the other Delvers seeing him do so before he realizes that they're blank.</p><p></p><p>"OK, guys," Tock says, picking up the strongbox. "You want to keep all this stuff. I want to keep all this stuff. But more than that, we want the Gentlemen Delvers to have been here, and not fugitives from Applopolis. Obviously, we keep the weapons and armor we found here. I've no problem keeping any potions or pseudodragon loot, either. But the rest, I say we present to the bailiff, along with the evidence of Richter's betrayal, and we let the locals decide where it goes. We may or may not be rewarded with some of it. But the more we can do to throw off Midwood's men, the better."</p><p></p><p>"It is theirs anyway," Kat says, and gets a withering glare from Renraw in response. "We couldn't carry it all into Kem anyway."</p><p></p><p>"I'm going to keep this short and to the point," Renraw drawls. "I'm an accountant. Or, rather, I used to be. So I know a thing or two about accounting. And I'm willing to wager that Richter and our Reaver friends haven't kept a very careful tally of what they've stolen, nor of their expenses. Save that invoice from earlier, I haven't seen a single shred of pecuniary documentation.</p><p></p><p>"Do you remember how low our travelling funds have dipped? We simply can't rely on the kindness of the people of Blackberry Ridge. We can take half that money and they won't even be the wiser. We're far enough from town that we could simply bury it somewhere remote and then retrieve it AFTER we've spoken to the bailiff woman. They'll never have the faintest inkling of even a notion. I'm not chancing eating old sausages the rest of the way to Freeport, and I daresay our friend Chaplin here may agree with me. How can we get caught? How, I ask you?"</p><p></p><p>"We can't carry this much coin or it will slow us down!" Kat bursts out. "We're walking into Kem. Money won't help us there. We've already spent too long here."</p><p></p><p>"I may be lots of things, but I ain't no thief," Ragglus says pointedly to Renraw over his shoulder, heaving the dead body onto the overturned table. "Lady up in Berry Town said we was going to be paid, and we keep what weren't claimed. Fair deal."</p><p></p><p>"I know what you're saying, buddy," Tock tells Renraw, "But we can't do it. We can't risk it. We embarrassed the constable and all his Lothianite cronies. They'll spare no expense to find us and execute our arcane asses. We take what they give us. No more, no less."</p><p></p><p>"Fine, fine!" Renraw throws his hands up in defeat. "Mark my words, though, our reward will be paltry in comparison to what we could take."</p><p></p><p>Loading up, the Gentlemen Delvers step outside into the sunlight, blinking in the now-unfamiliar light of the sun. Although the Reaver and his wolf mount are long-gone, Manfred Richter's beautiful black horse is tethered to a blackberry bush.</p><p></p><p>"Let's tie our little sled to the horse," Tock says, nodding at the makeshift sled created from the table and bearing Manfred Richter and much of his ill-gotten gains. "Now how do we decide who rides it? Who almost died most often?" </p><p></p><p>"I have a giant gash in my chest!" Renraw shrieks, proudly.</p><p></p><p>"Ragglus," Katadid says with authority. "Once from the spider, once from the pit, once from the werebadger and once from the goblin's arrows."</p><p></p><p>"Riding horseback makes you an easy target, and we ain't back in Berry Town yet," Ragglus snorts. "I'm walking."</p><p></p><p>Renraw enthusiastically clambers onto the rather dubious horse.</p><p></p><p>Getting out of the maze of blackberry bushes takes a while, but eventually, the Gentlemen Delvers -- dirty, bloody and eager for a bed that's not a cave floor -- begin their trek back toward town.</p><p></p><p>"See if they'll let you keep the breastplate, Chaplin," Renraw calls down. "It appears to be magical. Also, Chandler's bracers. Nothing else."</p><p></p><p>Renraw fails to mention, however, that he has placed the spider's silver dagger in his sack and carries Richter's on his belt.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Whizbang Dustyboots, post: 3908151, member: 11760"] "Not so tough now, are you?" Ragglus sneers as he wipes the blood from his spear, turning to spit on the recently deceased Manfred Richter. "Of course!" Katadid shouts. "An illusion to help cover the tracks of the deal made with the Reavers!" Then Kat sees Ragglus wipe another sentient being's blood off his spear. He turns very pale. He runs toward one corner of the cave, trying to outrace the return of his last meal. Renraw, who slumps against the upturned table, nods sagely, proud of himself. He rubs his hand on his wound. "Don't heal it, Chandler. We'll leave the scar." After ascertaining the goblin is well and truly gone -- and that the cave is about half a mile from town and concealed deep within a maze of blackberry bushes -- the Delvers search the two rooms. The bag in the altar turns out to have 25 platinum dragons inside, along with a ceremonial adamantine dagger set with small rubies and two flasks marked with labeled "healing." Under the goblin's straw bed in the final cave, the Delvers drag out a metal strongbox. Not having the ability to pick the lock, Ragglus delicately stomps on the lid until the box breaks open. As he stoops to pick it up, Katadid slaps his hand away, pointing at the needle jabbing out of the lock following Ragglus' rough use. The Delvers carefully open the box and discover most of Manfred's funds to pay the Black Reavers: 222 gold thrones, 13 assorted gems, a silver pin set with citrines, a coral statuette of a siren and a platinum disc studded with tiny emeralds. Renraw has almost squirreled the papers off Manfred's desk into his bag with none of the other Delvers seeing him do so before he realizes that they're blank. "OK, guys," Tock says, picking up the strongbox. "You want to keep all this stuff. I want to keep all this stuff. But more than that, we want the Gentlemen Delvers to have been here, and not fugitives from Applopolis. Obviously, we keep the weapons and armor we found here. I've no problem keeping any potions or pseudodragon loot, either. But the rest, I say we present to the bailiff, along with the evidence of Richter's betrayal, and we let the locals decide where it goes. We may or may not be rewarded with some of it. But the more we can do to throw off Midwood's men, the better." "It is theirs anyway," Kat says, and gets a withering glare from Renraw in response. "We couldn't carry it all into Kem anyway." "I'm going to keep this short and to the point," Renraw drawls. "I'm an accountant. Or, rather, I used to be. So I know a thing or two about accounting. And I'm willing to wager that Richter and our Reaver friends haven't kept a very careful tally of what they've stolen, nor of their expenses. Save that invoice from earlier, I haven't seen a single shred of pecuniary documentation. "Do you remember how low our travelling funds have dipped? We simply can't rely on the kindness of the people of Blackberry Ridge. We can take half that money and they won't even be the wiser. We're far enough from town that we could simply bury it somewhere remote and then retrieve it AFTER we've spoken to the bailiff woman. They'll never have the faintest inkling of even a notion. I'm not chancing eating old sausages the rest of the way to Freeport, and I daresay our friend Chaplin here may agree with me. How can we get caught? How, I ask you?" "We can't carry this much coin or it will slow us down!" Kat bursts out. "We're walking into Kem. Money won't help us there. We've already spent too long here." "I may be lots of things, but I ain't no thief," Ragglus says pointedly to Renraw over his shoulder, heaving the dead body onto the overturned table. "Lady up in Berry Town said we was going to be paid, and we keep what weren't claimed. Fair deal." "I know what you're saying, buddy," Tock tells Renraw, "But we can't do it. We can't risk it. We embarrassed the constable and all his Lothianite cronies. They'll spare no expense to find us and execute our arcane asses. We take what they give us. No more, no less." "Fine, fine!" Renraw throws his hands up in defeat. "Mark my words, though, our reward will be paltry in comparison to what we could take." Loading up, the Gentlemen Delvers step outside into the sunlight, blinking in the now-unfamiliar light of the sun. Although the Reaver and his wolf mount are long-gone, Manfred Richter's beautiful black horse is tethered to a blackberry bush. "Let's tie our little sled to the horse," Tock says, nodding at the makeshift sled created from the table and bearing Manfred Richter and much of his ill-gotten gains. "Now how do we decide who rides it? Who almost died most often?" "I have a giant gash in my chest!" Renraw shrieks, proudly. "Ragglus," Katadid says with authority. "Once from the spider, once from the pit, once from the werebadger and once from the goblin's arrows." "Riding horseback makes you an easy target, and we ain't back in Berry Town yet," Ragglus snorts. "I'm walking." Renraw enthusiastically clambers onto the rather dubious horse. Getting out of the maze of blackberry bushes takes a while, but eventually, the Gentlemen Delvers -- dirty, bloody and eager for a bed that's not a cave floor -- begin their trek back toward town. "See if they'll let you keep the breastplate, Chaplin," Renraw calls down. "It appears to be magical. Also, Chandler's bracers. Nothing else." Renraw fails to mention, however, that he has placed the spider's silver dagger in his sack and carries Richter's on his belt. [/QUOTE]
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Ptolus: Midwood - "The Dark Waters of Moss Pond"
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