Shu

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

Elthel spoke up, “We went to meet with Gunalar as you know. And the bastard set upon us the moment he had us inside! All of his bluster about a ‘peaceful meeting’ was just a ruse. Aseilia and Vrein… they did not make it out. Zilaster and I barely escaped. Zilaster has been poisoned!”

“Zilaster, I told you that fork-tongued oaf was not to be trusted!” the dwarf barked, his brow crinkling fiercely.

“Spare me… your… correctness,” Zilaster growled, “just… get me to Roscela.”

“She is downstairs.”

“Good,” Elthel said,”but… Zilaster, what about them?” Elthel turned her head and nodded toward the newcomers.

“Wait… here,” Zilaster twisted around, looking at Leon in particular, “if I do not come back up… I will send word. They saved me, Yanoriim.”

The dwarf’s expression softened and he nodded, turning to a door behind the counter and with a jingle of keys unlocked and pushed it open. Elthel hurriedly ushered the weakening half-elf behind the counter and through the door which Yanoriim closed and relocked behind him.

A basement hideout or a secret passage, I wonder. Iliskra thought as the dwarf put away his key ring and turned to face the three before him.
“I should thank you then,” Yanoriim said, “if you did save Zilaster and Elthel. They are close friends and good business partners.”

“Business partners you say, what business?” Iliskra asked.

“Not your business,” Yanoriim smirked, “not unless Zilaster says otherwise.”

“Ah, so Zilaster runs the business.” Iliskra grinned.

Yanoriim’s smirk faded and he pursed his thin lips as if trying to forcibly contain anymore words from coming forth.

“Well, I suppose you might like to hear that Gunalar is dead.” Iliskra stated with a casual crossing of her arms.

“What?” Yanoriim’s eyes widened, “Dead? How? Neither of them said anything about it!”

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

It was not a very far trek, in fact Elthel indicated it was just two streets northward from the south wall. However, the poisoned state of her comrade made the walk long and tedious as Elthel and a very annoyed Ibdur had to all but drag him. The small group also had to diverge into an alleyway after Iliskra spotted a heavily armed bunch of four clomping down the middle of the street amid the cracked stones and decayed bodies. They were all human men, encased in full suits of steel plate armor and wielding a variety of weapons including a wicked-looking morningstar.

“Shagarm’s men.” Elthel spat as they disappeared down the street.

Once the coast was clear, so to speak, Elthel directed the group toward a rickety-looking two story wooden building. A sign hung from two chains over the door that said “Yanoriim’s Grocery” in bold, black lettering.

“This is a grocery shop.” Ibdur said the obvious as Elthel reached forward and turned the door handle.

“Yanoriim is one of our most trusted fences and sources of information outside of the city.” Elthel said as she pushed open the door with a labored creaking of hinges. She stepped inside followed by Ibdur and the hobbling half-blood.

Iliskra looked to Leon with a raised brow, “Be ready.” And with that she went in leaving her masked compatriot to bring up the rear. The afternoon was drawing to an end and evening would soon arrive. As the sun set the streets would grow more active in the worst of ways and Iliskra imagined this Shagarm’s grip was even tighter under the cover of night. She wondered how well their fellows across the river were doing. As complicated as this had already become Iliskra still preferred it over the idea of fighting Thayans and their armies of demons and undead.

The inside of the store was dimly lit by lanterns that hung the four walls and a large wooden chandelier lined with burning candles that presided overhead. The interior of the shop looked better than the outside. The floors were creaky but stable, the wallpaper was peeling here and there but not severely, and the shelves and racks of goods were orderly. Standing behind the counter on the far side across from the front door was a dwarf - portly even for his kind - with balding gray hair and a a thick but well-kept mustache.

“Can I help-…” the dwarfs’ words were cut short as he saw Elthel and the wounded half-elf before then blurting out, “Waukeen’s golden tits! Zilaster! What happened!? And where are?…” The dwarf looked among the group, obviously searching for others before his concerned eyes stopped on Iliskra and Leon - his worry immediately turning to suspicion.

“Things… did not… go as… planned…”

Zilaster. Iliskra thought, she had never heard the name of course but it was nice to have one to paste to the mysterious man before them.

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

The half-elf struggled up to a stand, what color remained in his face draining away as he wobbled on both knees. Concern filled the face of Elthel who warily put away her blade and grabbed ahold of her companion by his right shoulder and forearm.

“I say… we take them back with us.”

Elthel recoiled slightly, casting a sideways glare at the three newcomers.
“We do not need them, and you know this.” She seemed to be hinting at something.

“We would both be dead had they not come upon us. Gunalar and his men would have killed you… and then finished… me. By now both our heads would most likely be tied up in separate bags… grasped in the fists of Shagarm.”

Iliskra could see that even though the young woman tried to maintain a look of denial that in her eyes she knew it was true. The half-elf continued, “We just… need to get… back… and our friend can help me. If we… run into more trouble… perhaps these three will help us. I… will gladly pay you in coin for an escort.”
Iliskra saw a grin and a twinkle in the mysterious half-bloods’ eye as he turned his head, and yet her gut told her to trust him - somewhat. She could not help but wonder if just maybe these two were part of the Ashaba Talons. If they were, then she, Leon, and Ibdur had just gotten their foot over the threshold if fortune was so kind. The wounded elf-blood was hard to mark in his current state, but he and his lady companions’ armor and equipment looked to be of a fine quality removed from that of common ruffians. The young woman seemed impetuous without a doubt, but she did not come off as a tenderfoot to Iliskra. Not at all. Even if these two are not Talons they should be able to give us a solid lead. Willingly or by force. If they try to double cross us we can still make use of them.

“Perhaps instead of gold,” Iliskra piped up again, “you pay us with valuable information. An escort in exchange for a lead.”

The half-elf raised an eyebrow in thought before briskly answering, “Very well… then. What would you like to know?”

“Not here, and not in your current state.” Iliskra said pointedly, “Let us get you wherever you may need to go and then we can talk about your payment of tongue.”

“Agreed.”

“Are you sure about this?” Elthel demanded, still clinging onto the poisoned man.

“Yes. I think… they are a safe bet. And besides… you may… need help carrying me.”

The week game

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3 Word Story

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When I say "hawk," you say "tuah!"

You know, my coworker mentioned hawk tuah.

I told him to picture Joe Biden extremely close up whispering to him hawk tuah.

He's never brought it up again.

@Lith

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500

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FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

“You were just telling us about the man, the elf, and the dwarf - all professional killers it would seem - that came to find the man’s uncle in this forsaken city.” Elthel, the young woman, said venomously as her companion cast aside the now empty potion bottle.

“I wonder, she continued, “do you all have the same mysterious uncle? Is he human, elf, or dwarf?”

“Elthel, please,” the half-elf man said, wiping at the corners of his mouth, “these… three saved us. Be it intentional or not. And… they just killed that oaf Gunalar. Well done master dwarf… either way…”

Iliskra narrowed her eyes as she looked the half-elf man over. He was still quite sickly pale and seemed to be under great strain even now despite the healing potion given to him. “I… believe that… dart was poisoned…” he said aloud, as if he had read Iliskra’s very thoughts. The young red-haired woman lowered her blades and crouched next to her companion, Iliskra catching a glimpse of the concern welling up across her features.

“Those bastards,” Elthel hissed, “they were intent on killing you one way or another.”

“Who?” Iliskra asked, Elthel looked back around - her face immediately regaining all its’ distrustfulness. The half-elf grunted as he adjusted his sitting position, unlike Elthel he seemed more willing to talk, “Gunalar, who you just killed. I… was a fool. He lured me to his lair under promises of… a partnership. And then… he and his men sprang upon us; myself, Elthel, and Aseilia and Vrein. The latter two… did not make it. And one of Gunalar’s cutthroats threw a… dart straight into my shoulder… just after I had escaped the others’ trying to… flay me like a freshly caught trout. I should have known that boar-headed clod would throw… his lot in with Shagarm over me…”

“We need to get you back to-…” Elthel caught herself, realizing she had nearly revealed either a name or a place in her concern.

“Who are you lot? Truthfully, if I dare press.” the wounded man managed to string the query out smoothly, eyes moving between Leon, Iliskra, and Ibdur.

“We are not actually looking for his uncle,” Iliskra blurted out very suddenly, nodding toward Leon, “we are… let us say refugees that just arrived here.”

“Refugees?” the half-elf all but barked, raising his head and brows in disbelief, “and you came here - willingly?” Elthel’s eyes were but slits by now as she squeezed the hilt of her dagger tight, ready to pounce.

“We came from Chandlerscross together, where we first crossed paths,” Iliskra said evenly, “let us just say we are not welcome there or in Scarsdeep as we are the type of folk to be on the… offside of the law.”

“And so you came here? Here? To this fallen city overwhelmed by marauders, Red Wizards, and mercenaries?”

Ibdur looked sideways at Leon, as if waiting for a command to attack.