PENKUS’ REVENGE
A thorough search of the small room where Penkus met his end turned up a surprising find for the stranded company: a small horde of forgotten smuggler’s loot. Included among a tidy sum of loose gold coins and assorted gems was a small jade coffer. Inside, resting on a tiny velvet cushion, was a light brown gemstone with a small piece of parchment tucked beneath it. Thrisp read it aloud:
“He who breaks this stone shall command a servant of the Earth, but beware, the elemental may only be called once, and only for a short time. Use it wisely.”
“An elemental!” Basil shouted in excitement. “It summons an elemental!”
“So?” Gotr said, eyes narrowed. “What good does that do us?”
“Don’t you understand?” the wizard laughed. “Earth elementals can burrow through the ground! It can help us get out of here, and I just happen to speak…Terran.” He fairly beamed with pride.
Sepoto looked at him dubiously. “You wouldn’t happen to be a follower of Grumbar, would you?”
“Who?” Basil asked, then shook his head. “No, no. It’s just that the little formal training I received in Calimshan was primarily from elementalists. It was required that students be able to speak with any elementals they might summon, though I only got as far as Terran and Aquan before I…had to leave.”
“Excellent,” Anwar said, “so you’re not entirely useless after all. Let’s go then, back to the entrance to this tomb.”
A short time later, they all stood once more in the clearing above the tunnels with dawn on the horizon. The elemental had burrowed to the surface, removed the deadfall that Vanthus had stacked on top of the trap door, and held the rope while Sepoto climbed up, and then secured it in place. All in all, Basil thought it had been one of his more ingenious ideas. Perhaps that was why he was so crestfallen when the group trekked back down to the beach to discover what should have been a forgone conclusion: their boat was missing.
“Samson,” Thrisp said, “we’re only about a hundred feet from shore. Why don’t you swim across and head back to see your boss. The Chult Trading Concern is only a couple of blocks down the dock isn’t it?”
Samson made a sour face. “There are a couple of flaws in your logic,” he said. “First, you actually expect Vico Bevenin, the half-ogre, to just give me another boat after I tell him that I misplaced the one he loaned me last night. Second, there’s the matter of the profit we promised him for investing in our little foray into the smuggler’s tunnels. Unless you are planning on giving over some of that loot we found, we are otherwise empty-handed. If it’s all the same to you, I think I am going to be avoiding Vico for awhile.”
“Hmm…I see your point.” Thrisp said, considering. “Gotr…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the other gnome grumbled, already stripping off his armor, “let the water rat do the swimming, get the boat and then bring it back here. For Oghma’s sake! You people live in this town just like I do! You would think you would have noticed it’s a port city by now, and maybe have taken a few swimming or rowing lessons!” The little priest continued his tirade as he waded into the water and swam for shore. Within an hour, he was back, having hired a canal gondola to retrieve his companions. Once the fare was paid, they made their way back to the Merchant’s District, and Vanderboren Manor.
___________________________________________
Lavinia was immensely relieved to see the group, especially Anwar (much to the disgust of the others at their semi-public display of affection). She had feared the worst when they had failed to return the night before, but her relief was tempered by the news they brought…news of her brother’s attempt to trap and kill them.
“And you say he may be in league with these Lotus Dragons?” she asked at length.
“I’m afraid so,” Anwar said, patting her hand. “I have heard rumor of them. They are a relatively new guild, but they appear to be more organized than most of the other groups that have been popping up over the past few years.”
“Will you seek them out?” she asked.
“In time,” Anwar replied. “I think we need more information before we simply go knocking at their door.”
Lavinia was silent for several moments, then her eyes met Anwar’s, barely contained tears welling in them. “Bring him to me alive if you can, but if he makes that impossible, promise me that his death will be swift and merciful.”
The bard lifted her hand to his lips. “You have my word.”
As they prepared to take their leave, Lavinia stopped them with a surprised gasp.
“I almost forgot!” she said. “The news is all over town! Last night, Keltar Islaran, the harbormaster, the man Soller Vark was working for, was murdered! The details are not clear, but word is that he was killed in his own bed, and his body was left in an especially gruesome state of evisceration.”
“Interesting,” Anwar said. “Perhaps someone was unhappy with him after his man failed to deliver the goods they were smuggling. The plot thickens.”
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Thrisp continued to gain a grudging respect for Anwar, despite his personal misgivings about the man. Disguising himself as a common street ruffian, the bard combed some of the seediest establishments in Shadowshore, guided by Samson and Basil. The trio managed to discover several more interesting details about the Lotus Dragons, such as the fact that animal smuggling was a major trade for them, and the word was that they used some of the more exotic beasts as guardians for their guildhall. In addition, it was rumored that the guild might have some sort of connection to at least one noble family, which might explain why the city Watch had not taken action against them.
However, despite keeping a relatively low profile, it seemed that the Lotus Dragons had informants of their own. One evening, upon returning from a fact-finding mission, Anwar was surprised to discover a folded piece of parchment in the pocket of his cloak, which he was sure had not been there when he had dressed. It read:
“You are being watched by the Lotus Dragons. Your questions will bring you misery…it’s best to sit back and let things happen as they will. Further interference will only bring you tears.”
The bard was not a man to be easily intimidated, and the missive only served to give him fuel for a larger plan. That same evening, after a brief tryst with Lavinia, he took a set of Vanthus’ clothes that had been left behind. Darkening his hair once again, and donning a fake (but very realistic) goatee, he made his way to the Merchant District’s Watch station.
“I am Lord Vanthus Vanderboren,” he said perfunctorily to the Watch commander on duty. The man practically fell over himself as he leaped to his feet.
“Er…yes Lord Vanderboren? How can I help you? Is this about the recent disturbance at your family’s estate?”
“Precisely,” Anwar answered. “It has been brought to my attention that the trespasser you arrested was merely a down-on-his-luck commoner looking for food and clothing. I think he meant no real harm, and my family has decided to drop all charges. I would like him released immediately.”
“Of…of course, my Lord,” the commander stammered. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” Anwar nodded, “however, I would like to have a word with the man in private first, if you don’t mind. I may be able to secure work for him, menial to be sure, but enough to keep him out of trouble.”
“As you wish, my Lord,” the watchman said as he hurried from behind his desk, fumbling for his keys. He led Anwar to the holding cells, where he had a stool placed in front of Shefton Rock’s cell, and dismissed the guard. “Call if you need anything,” he said, but Anwar motioned him on with a wave. When Shefton rolled over on his cot and saw who was seated before him, his eyes went wide with terror.
“Lord…Lord Vanthus!”
“Shefton, Shefton,” Anwar tsked, shaking his head. “You disappoint me. Look at what’s become of you. Did you really think you could stab me in the back and just walk away?”
“N..no, my Lord!” the informant wailed. “Please! I was bewitched! Them that you sent me to find tricked me! They used black magic on me, gods’ truth!”
“Be that as it may, Shefton,” Anwar said menacingly, “I gave you one simple task to do, and you completely botched it. Still, I did manage to trap them in the tunnels, just as I’d planned, so things actually worked out…” Shefton began to look slightly relieved, “until they escaped!” The poor scoundrel nearly soiled himself.
“But I am a forgiving man, Shefton,” the bard continued, “and I believe in second chances. You would like a second chance, wouldn’t you?”
Shefton was on his feet, gripping the bars of his cell and pressing his face to them. “Oh yes, my Lord! I won’t fail you again! I swear it!”
Anwar nodded. “The task I have for you this time is simplicity itself. All I require is that you deliver this note to the Lotus Dragons tonight.” He pulled a sealed envelope from his cloak.
Shefton’s eyes grew wide again. “But…my Lord…it was you who was going to introduce me to the Dragons. I…I don’t know how ta find them!”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way,” Anwar said, rising to his feet and passing the note through the cell bars. “If you don’t, by sunset tomorrow, you will be all out of chances, Shefton. Do I make myself clear?” Reluctantly, the informant nodded.
“Guard!” Anwar shouted. “Release him as soon as possible.”
_____________________________________________
“So…explain this to me again,” Thrisp said, a confused expression on his face.
“Don’t you see?” Anwar replied, exasperation in his tone. “I forged Penkus’ handwriting and his signature. The letter I gave to Shefton implicates Vanthus in an attempt to overthrow the power structure of the guild. I requested that as many representatives from the guild meet tomorrow at one of the abandoned warehouses along Swamp’s Edge Way in Cudgel District. The Taxidermist’s Guild is on the other side of town, in Sunrise. With any luck, when we pay our visit to the taxidermist, most of the Lotus Dragons won’t be home. That will give us more time to search for Vanthus.”
Thrisp shook his head, half dubious, and half impressed. He looked at the others, and saw no dissent in their eyes.
“Well,” he said at length, “it’s not as if we have a better plan. Eight tonight, you say?”
“Yes,” the bard replied. “We’ll get there a bit early and see if we notice any activity. At eight sharp, we pay our respects to the Dragons.”
_____________________________________________________
Nemien Roblach had closed up shop for the night, and was busy in his workroom on his latest project, a partially completed stuffed jaguar on commission for the church of Tempus, when he heard something heavy strike the door which led outside to Dead Dog Alley. Fear was not what he immediately felt. Nemien was nothing if not a realist, and he knew that his association with the Lotus Dragons would make him a target for their enemies. It was probably only a matter of time before a rival guild found out his secret. Calmly, he rose to his feet and moved to the far side of the room, where he quietly opened the door leading to an interior corridor. He moved down the hallway and around a corner, where he could still see the door leading to the workroom. Then he began to work his magic. First, he murmured a quick enchantment which rendered him invisible. Next, he spoke the words to another incantation, creating a perfect image of himself standing at the door, as if he had just opened it and was preparing to flee down the hall. Then he simply waited.
_________________________________________________
Sepoto gave the crowbar one last heave, and the door splintered. In a flash, Gotr rushed past him, dropping to one knee, a pure white arrow knocked in his bow. He saw the human across the room turn in the doorway, and he loosed his string.
“Don’t kill him!” Thrisp shouted from behind him, but the priest ignored him. He knew what he was about, but his eyes still widened when the Sleep arrow passed right through the fleeing man as if he didn’t exist, which a moment later Gotr realized, he didn’t. The image became transparent and then faded. A damned illusion!
At that moment, Anwar entered, this time dressed as the dead pirate Penkus.
“What’s all this then?” he shouted. “Ye damn, bloody mercs! Can’t ye even follow simple orders?” He strode purposefully across the room to the door, and looked out into the hall. Though he saw no one, he heard a faint scuff of a boot from around a far corner.
“Taxidermist!” Anwar snapped. “It be me, Penkus. Yaaarr! Don’t ye recognize me?” Silence greeted him for a moment, then an uncertain voice answered.
“Penkus? I heard you were dead…”
“And so ‘twould’a been if not fer this seedy lot o’blood suckin’ mercs! Freed me from Vanthus death trap, so they did! Owe’em me very life, just like I owe me old pal Vanthus a knife in th’heart!”
“Look,” Nemien answered, still unseen, “I don’t want any part of this. You know I’m just a go-between. I won’t be involved in any in-fighting or power-plays. Leave me out of this!”
“An’ so I will,” Anwar replied, “Just open th’door to the guild, and I’ll be on me way.”
Again, a momentary silence, and then, “Why don’t you open it? It’s right behind you?” Anwar glanced quickly behind him, but saw only a blank wall. The door was hidden. The bard thought quickly. “So it is! Me memory’s gone a bit mushy, what with spendin’ two weeks underground wit th’walkin’ dead! You try eatin’ one o’yer own men, and see if ye’re thinkin’s still straight!”
Nemien had no reply to that.
“Oy! Wizard! Find th’ blasted door, and be quick about it, or ye’ll be feelin’ me boot in your arse!” Anwar commanded Basil.
“Aye, aye Cap’n Penkus,” Basil said is his best pirate accent. Anwar frowned at the pathetic attempt and made a slashing movement across his throat. Basil nodded, taking the hint to get down to business. Quickly, he drew a scroll from his belt, unfurled it, and read the spell printed there. Immediately, his eyes picked out the glowing outline of the hidden door in the wall behind the bard. Stepping past Anwar, he touched a concealed stud, and the panel slid aside, revealing another hallway beyond it, which ran to a dead-end with a trapdoor in the floor.
One by one, the members of the group filed past Anwar and into the hidden corridor, with Thrisp bringing up the rear. As the gnome approached the bard, the half-elf whispered something in a language Thrisp had not heard since his father’s death…Undercommon.
“No witnesses,” is what Anwar had said. Thrisp paused, and looked towards the far end of the hall, where he knew the taxidermist was still hiding, watching them. He wasn’t sure if the bard meant for him to kill the other man, and he was unsure if he was willing to do so anyway. Their ruse had worked, but Anwar had a point. As soon as they were through the trapdoor, Nemien was sure to be off to tell whatever Lotus Dragons were still in the area about their visit. Making up his mind quickly, Thrisp cast his spell. A moment later he heard the loud thud of a body striking the floor.
“Well done,” Anwar said. “Did you kill him?”
“No,” Thrisp replied. “He’s only asleep.”
“An easy kill still,” said the bard. “Finish him.” By this time, the other members of the party had come to a halt, puzzled at the turn of events.
“What’s goin’ on back there?” Gotr shouted.
“Just tying up a few loose ends,” Anwar answered. “Thrisp has pacified the taxidermist. I was just telling him to finish the job. As the old pirate saying goes, ‘dead men tell no tales.’”
Gotr shrugged, “Can’t argue with you there. Make it fast, and let’s get moving.”
“Wait a minute!” Thrisp said indignantly. “Why do we need to kill him? We can tie him up securely, and make sure he won’t be going anywhere to warn anyone anytime soon. What’s the point in murdering him?”
Anwar sighed, “This again. I really cannot believe that you are standing here telling me that you have some moral compunction about killing a man who is in league with a band of cutthroats and thieves, a leader of which just tried to kill us two days ago. You heard what Lavinia said about the harbormaster. Do you think that was a coincidence? And what about the note I received? Come on man, where not talking about innocents here!” Thrisp lowered his eyes, still obviously undecided on the matter.
“Fine,” Anwar huffed, “let’s do this the democratic way. Let’s vote on it. I say kill him and have done with it. That way we can be certain he won’t reveal anything. Gotr obviously agrees with me. Sepoto? What say you?”
The goliath rubbed his chin for a moment before answering. “By law, we should turn this man over to the Watch for his affiliation with a known thieve’s guild. However, by some of the rumors we’ve heard, a noble family, and by extension some of the Watch themselves may actually be in collusion with the Lotus Dragons. We can’t be certain he will meet proper justice. These people operate outside the law, and have no respect for it. They are anarchists, and thus should be quelled and dealt with harshly. I have no objection to summary execution.”
“A bit long-winded,” Anwar chided, “but I’ll take that as a yes. Basil?”
The young wizard shrugged. “Where I come from, it’s kill or be killed. You go showing mercy to your enemies, and pretty soon you wind up in a gutter with your throat slit. Do unto others before you get done unto, I say.”
“Samson?” Anwar asked, eyeing the dragon shaman.
“I understand the brutality and the nature of tribal warfare,” he answered, “but I’ve also seen enough death in my time to make me have no love of dealing it out lightly. Let him live.”
Anwar waved dismissively at him. “Marius?”
“I have no opinion,” the Seeker answered in a bored tone. “Do as you will.”
“You’re outvoted Thrisp,” Anwar sneered. “Do you have anything more to add?”
Thrisp shifted his eyes again, and then nodded. “If it’s to be done, then do it quickly, but I won’t deliver the blow.” Anwar raised one eyebrow to Sepoto. The goliath shrugged and walked down the hall until his feet stumbled against something unseen lying on the floor, and he heard a soft grunt. Reaching down, he found Nemien’s head, raised one chain-wrapped fist, and brought it down with a sickening squelch.
_________________________________________________
“Was that last part really necessary?” Thrisp asked as the last of the group descended the wooden ladder leading from the trapdoor above. He was referring to a note, written in Nemien’s blood, that Anwar had left pinned to the dead man with a dagger. It read: ‘Nobody crosses Penkus and lives! Yaaarrr!”
“All part of my plan,” the bard laughed. “If we play our cards right, we’ll have these rogues tearing each other’s throats out.”
The company found themselves in a natural passageway. Moisture dripped from the walls to pool on the rough floor, draining in tiny rivulets away to the east. A wooden door, slightly ajar, stood to the west. Thrisp shook his head at Anwar’s logic, and crept quietly to the door. Peering beyond it, he could see a second hall, running north and south. Motioning for the others to hold their position, he opened the door further, and darted out. Immediately to the north, he could see an open door leading to what seemed to be a small empty room. A closed door stood on its far side. To the south, the hallway ran for a few yards before turning west. Quickly, the little gnome moved to the corner, clinging to the shadows, but as he did so, his foot inadvertently splashed through a small puddle.
“Who goes there?” came a voice from the room to the north. Before Thrisp could answer, he heard Anwar shout.
“It be me! Penkus! Returned from th’dead to seek me revenge! Give up that scurvy cur Vanthus, and I’ll be on me way!”
At that moment, Sepoto stepped into the hall, and there was an instant snap-twang of bow strings. Two small darts flew from the room, where two figures could now be seen moving in the shadows. Both bolts went wide, snapping against the wall. Instantly, Thrisp stepped from around the corner, and spoke the words to another Sleep spell. Both figures toppled. They were both human, dressed in leathers, and armed with rapiers, hand crossbows, and saps. Each bore the now familiar Lotus Dragon tattoo on one shoulder.
“Kill one of them,” Anwar ordered Sepoto, “but leave the other for questioning.” This time, there was no debate. The goliath dispatched one of the sleeping men with brutal efficiency. Anwar then stepped over the other, and roughly kicked him in the ribs.
“Look on yer death, dog!” the bard laughed as the man opened his shocked eyes. “Penkus’come fer ye!”
“Ye’re not Penkus!” the man spat. “Vanthus told us to expect ye, and that ye’d be tryin’ this trick!”
“It’s yer own choice then,” Anwar said. “Talk or die!”
“Help! Help!” the man began shouting. Gotr quickly knocked an arrow, drew back and fired into the rogue’s chest at point-blank range. Spitting blood, the thief sagged into unconsciousness, but that wasn’t enough for Anwar. Drawing a dagger, he seized the man’s hair, and quickly cut his throat. He then wiped the blade clean on the guard’s sleeve before sheathing it.
“Let’s move,” he said. “I’m sure others heard his warning. We have to work fast.”
Beyond the northern door of the guard room, they entered another hall, running east to west. In both directions it branched. Randomly choosing, they proceeded east to the first intersection, where a short passage ran north before reaching a dead-end. Something about the stonework didn’t seem quite right to Thrisp, however, and within moments, he determined that a hidden door was concealed there. On the other side of this portal was a domed chamber which sported a wooden ladder leading up to a trapdoor in the ceiling. Two doors, both ajar, lead from the chamber, one north, and one west.
“I think we’re under one of the warehouses near the taxidermist’s shop,” Thrisp said. “I’ll bet there are several hidden entrances to this warren.”
They chose the western door, finding beyond it an angular passageway which ended at another door about a hundred-feet away. Halfway down, in the north wall, two arrow slits pierced the stone. Thrisp moved ahead of the others and cautiously peered through the first one. He found himself gazing down into a circular cavern, most of which consisted of a large pool of brackish looking water, its surface greasy with filth and rotting seaweed. Dripping lead pipes protruded from the walls of the twenty-foot high room, including one that was nearly two-feet in diameter to the east. A five-foot wide hole in the ceiling seemed to lead up to the surface. To the west and south was a five-foot wide beach of grit and gravel. A narrow tunnel lead up at a shallow angle to the west and out of sight.
Noting nothing moving within the chamber, Thrisp motioned the others forward, and continued on. The far door led to another of the circular, domed chambers, again with a wooden ladder in the center leading to a trapdoor in the ceiling. Only a single door exited this room to the west. A short hall on the other side ended in a blank wall. Once more, Thrisp’s gnomish knack for stonework allowed him to note the discrepancy in the wall where another hidden door was concealed. Beyond this door was a five-foot drop into a natural tunnel…the same one Thrisp had noted that exited the cistern he had overlooked.
Sepoto leading this time, the company dropped into the passage, and made their way carefully towards the pool. No sooner had the goliath entered the chamber, however, than the large pipe at the far end began gushing water. Simultaneously, a crossbow bolt seemingly appeared out of thin air, and buried itself in the crusader’s shoulder. Meanwhile, at the back of the group, Gotr, Anwar and Marius heard a loud clanking of metal, followed by a deafening roar. Quickly, the trio hoisted themselves back up the ledge and into the hidden hall, while Samson and Sepoto backed slowly towards them, watching both directions. The roar sounded again, much closer this time, and from around a bend in the western passage, came the largest crocodile the warriors had ever seen. It was so huge, in fact, that it was forced to squeeze its bulk through the narrow hall. A metal collar was fastened around its neck, with a loose length of chain dangling from it.
Samson went into a defensive crouch before the reptile, blocking its path to the raised passage and his friends. Sepoto moved rapidly to his side, uncoiling his chain as he came. As the crocodile opened its great jaws to lunge at the dragon shaman, the goliath snapped his chain out, impaling its barbed end in the roof of the crocodile’s mouth. Roaring in pain, the animal pawed at the cruel hook, but could not get it loose.
“Incoming!” came a shout from behind the warriors. Both ducked instinctively as a flaming orb, hurled by Marius, flew over their heads, striking the crocodile squarely between the eyes. It’s entire head was instantly engulfed, the fire burning to the bone. Soon, the smell of charred meat filled the passage, and the behemoth collapsed.
“Wait here,” Samson said, motioning to the others. “I’m going back to the pool to see if I can sense anything.” The dragon shaman moved slowly back down the hall, staying within sight of Sepoto. No sooner had he made the entrance of the chamber, however, than two more bolts whizzed passed him, this time coming from an arrow slit to his right, and one straight ahead. Realizing the significance of this, he turned and shouted back down the passage, “They’re moving in from behind! Watch your backs!”
When Basil heard Samson’s warning, he was already making his way back to the arrow slits to see if he could get a better vantage point on their sniper. Instead, he found himself face-to-face with another member of the Lotus Dragons. The rogue got off one shot before the wizard went stumbling back down the passage, shouting for the others. He nearly ran into Gotr coming the other way in his haste.
“Slow down, ya pansy!” the gnome snarled. “I thought you were supposed to be some sort of dealer in arcane destruction. You runnin’ from one lousy sewer rat?” Just then, a bolt sprouted from the priest’s back, and his eyes went wide. A moment later, he doubled over, clutching at his stomach and heaving his guts out. The Lotus Dragon rogue calmly stepped around the corner, and reloaded his crossbow.
“You don’t want to do that, friend,” Thrisp said, moving his hands in a complexity of gestures. Basil looked noticeably relieved when he saw the slack-jawed expression come over the rogue.
“I don’t want to do that,” the man said numbly.
“We’re all friends here,” Thrisp continued, amiably. “Why don’t you go on with Basil here, and we’ll just sit down and talk out this little misunderstanding.” The rogue nodded, and lowered his weapon.
“Take Gotr with you,” Thrisp told the wizard, and Basil looped one arm around the priest’s shoulders and guided him back towards the party with the rogue following close behind.
“Lars!” came a voice just around the corner from Thrisp. “Where the hell ye goin’ man?” A bow string snapped, and a bolt zipped just inches away from Thrisp’s scalp. He saw the second thief moving back behind the wall, but the gnome was a fraction of a second faster. His hand movements commanded the human’s attention, and in moments, Thrisp knew the rogue was under his thrall.
“Lars is just fine,” he said. “In fact, why don’t you go see for yourself? He’s waiting for you just down the hall.” The man nodded, and walked purposefully past the gnome. Thrisp turned to follow. When he reached the domed chamber, he found the rest of the group gathered curiously around the two men.
“It’s under control,” the beguiler said when he saw the tense looks on the faces of his companions, and the way some of them gripped their weapons. Gotr, however, was still puking in the corner.
“Watch out!” Sepoto shouted, and he roughly shoved Thrisp to one side, just a dart whizzed past where he’d been standing a moment before. A third rogue had snuck up on them, but having seen the numbers of his opposition, he decided discretion was the better part of valor. He turned, making a break for the hallway, but Sepoto was on him, his chain wrapping around the man’s legs, and jerking him to the floor. As the rogue rolled and tried to climb to his feet, the goliath snapped his neck.
“Don’t ye be worryin’ about him none,” Anwar said, draping one arm companionably around Lar’s shoulders. “He was obviously takin’ in by that rat Vanthus. Why don’t you two come sit over here and tell yer Uncle Penkus all about how that mangy maggot tricked ye inta believin’ I was dead and buried?”
“He told us ye were dead,” the one called Lars said. “He also told us that strangers had been pokin’ their noses inta our business, and that that rat Shefton was in cahoots wit’em. So we killed the filthy traitor, and put th’whole place on alert.”
“What exactly is your business?” Thrisp asked, sitting down next to the man. “Just what are you up to here?”
Lars smiled a gap-toothed grin, and leaned over conspiratorially, “The Dragon Mistress is takin’ over all the shippin’ in Tashluta. We’ll be controllin’ the city’s entire sea trade!”
“The Dragon Mistress?” Thrisp said.
“Lady Lotus,” Lars answered. “It’s her what calls the shots…her and her lieutenants, Vanthus and Kersh Reftun.”
“I see,” Thrisp nodded. “How many of you are there here?”
“Bout two dozen, all told,” Lars said.
“Can you give us a layout of the guild?” Thrisp asked. “Vanthus really has set you all up, and we’re here to help your mistress, but we need to know where your forces are concentrated, so we can avoid them and any unnecessary bloodshed.”
“Aye, I can draw ye a map,” Lars said, “but there’s some places only the chiefs’re allowed. Never been there.”
“Just do what you can then, my friend,” the gnome said encouragingly, “we’ll take care of the rest.”
to stop the world from ending then so be it.
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
