diaglo
Adventurer
Another one bites the...
The party went back to the Flagon Held High. Darian grabbed Fiddle’s attention when they came in. Richter was at a table in new armor.
“What’s up?” Fiddle whispered.
“I have a commission for you,” Darian smiled. “I need you to swap these items for Richter. You can keep the ones he currently carries.” Darian gave Fiddle Richter’s heirlooms; the bastard sword and trademark whip. “I got them from the Church. Make sure he doesn’t know.”
“It’s as good as done,” Fiddle gleamed.
He took the bastard sword first. Richter had a tendency to place his sword to his right side when he sat. The scabbard wouldn’t allow him to sit properly on a chair when left on his back. The exchanged happened without a hitch. Well, Erin noticed, but he always did. Fiddle winked. After a few more rounds and pleasant conversation and trips to the room to hide the bastard sword Fiddle tried for the whip. Richter kept that attached to his side. The removal wasn’t the problem. And Fiddle proved that to be true. Again no one noticed. It was the replacement. As Fiddle tied the old new whip back into place Richter reached down.
“Fiddle?” Richter said as he grabbed the hin’s ear. “What are you doing?”
“Ooops,” Fiddle replied. “You drop…”
“Fiddle,” Richter kept up the pressure.
“I was commissioned to swap your items,” Fiddle finally told Richter. “But I can’t tell you by whom.”
Richter looked at his whip and bastard sword. Recognition. He looked at Darian.
“Well,” Darian admitted. “I couldn’t let you be without them.”
“Thank you,” Richter simply replied. “I’ve decided to stay here in Tilverton. I had a vision on the way and now after visiting the cemetery I understand its meaning. I am to be the new priest here of Kelemvor.”
“Good luck,” the party said as one.
They partied late into the evening. In the morning they would leave for the Barrows after a few stops.
The party went back to the Flagon Held High. Darian grabbed Fiddle’s attention when they came in. Richter was at a table in new armor.
“What’s up?” Fiddle whispered.
“I have a commission for you,” Darian smiled. “I need you to swap these items for Richter. You can keep the ones he currently carries.” Darian gave Fiddle Richter’s heirlooms; the bastard sword and trademark whip. “I got them from the Church. Make sure he doesn’t know.”
“It’s as good as done,” Fiddle gleamed.
He took the bastard sword first. Richter had a tendency to place his sword to his right side when he sat. The scabbard wouldn’t allow him to sit properly on a chair when left on his back. The exchanged happened without a hitch. Well, Erin noticed, but he always did. Fiddle winked. After a few more rounds and pleasant conversation and trips to the room to hide the bastard sword Fiddle tried for the whip. Richter kept that attached to his side. The removal wasn’t the problem. And Fiddle proved that to be true. Again no one noticed. It was the replacement. As Fiddle tied the old new whip back into place Richter reached down.
“Fiddle?” Richter said as he grabbed the hin’s ear. “What are you doing?”
“Ooops,” Fiddle replied. “You drop…”
“Fiddle,” Richter kept up the pressure.
“I was commissioned to swap your items,” Fiddle finally told Richter. “But I can’t tell you by whom.”
Richter looked at his whip and bastard sword. Recognition. He looked at Darian.
“Well,” Darian admitted. “I couldn’t let you be without them.”
“Thank you,” Richter simply replied. “I’ve decided to stay here in Tilverton. I had a vision on the way and now after visiting the cemetery I understand its meaning. I am to be the new priest here of Kelemvor.”
“Good luck,” the party said as one.
They partied late into the evening. In the morning they would leave for the Barrows after a few stops.