We Are Thieves! [Session One/Part Two – 05/01/2017]
Kellen had always believed tales of the Naked Monk to be an urban legend, like the rumours of Bighand in the deep forests beyond the city walls. That belief disintegrated alongside the chair he was sitting on as the homicidal nudist smashed it into flinders with a single punch. On the bright side, at least the monk was a woman, albeit one so powerfully muscled she likely had more testosterone coursing through her than ten men. Her naked body was covered with so many glowing tattoos that the nubile form beneath was almost too painful to look upon.
“Merchant Rassus of the Guild of Gold has stolen my son! You will steal him back!” the Naked Monk boomed, “True, the child sprouted from his manly seed, but that does not give him the right to snatch the boy from my bosom! Return my son or I will crush your puny skulls like sparrow eggs between my powerful thighs!”
“One of the novices will show you the way to Rassus’ townhouse,” Master Barney added, “Infiltrate the building and recover the child. Feel free to fill your pockets with anything you find along the way, but remember that the guild demands a 10% cut of your take.”
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The merchant’s townhouse turned out to be more of a fortress, windows barred by ornate gratings from which hidden marksmen could snipe at anyone approaching the mansion with evil intent. Deliveries to the building were directed to an unobtrusive side entrance and the thieves quickly identified this as the most promising means of ingress. Well, ‘quickly’ is perhaps not the right word; ‘eventually’ might be more appropriate. Before fixing upon the side entrance, the thieves wasted a great deal of time exhausting a number of more outlandish options.
“I’ve been talking to this rat,” Dimble said, eyes bulging wildly from their bruised sockets, “He is a wise rat and my good friend. I am having dinner with him and his ratty uncle tomorrow at noon, over by that overturned wagon. He has shared with me the location of a secret entrance into the merchant’s sanctuary, only we must all become rats in order to fit.”
“That’s nice Dimble,” Gelert replied absently, reaching into his pocket for the gnome’s special medicine.
“I just overheard a group of house servants planning to meet for drinks in the Bell Tavern,” Kellen said, “Maybe we can spy on them for information about Rassus and his boy.”
The thieves spent the evening eavesdropping on the merchant’s staff as they grew increasingly tipsy and talkative. However, none of them mentioned anything about a young child joining the master’s household. Dimble approached the group and requested a job, perhaps forgetting that he was gainfully employed by the Guild of Fire. The only vacancy was that of the shitboy (emptying stinky chamber pots). Dimble seized upon this opportunity with great enthusiasm! They were going to pay him to collect human faeces? He’d been doing that for years for the sheer joy of it!
“Good idea Dimble!” Kellen said, “Once you get inside, you can find the Naked Monk’s son and tell us how best to extract him whilst avoiding the merchant’s guards.”
However, as awesome as that plan was, it was doomed to failure. When attempting to enter the townhouse with the rest of the servants, Dimble collided with an invisible barrier and was bounced back into the gutter. Guards immediately appeared to investigate the trespass and Dimble hid in a barrel until they got bored of looking for him. Fortunately, someone had tossed a dead cat into the same barrel a few days earlier, so at least he had some company.
“Right, enough pissing around trying to be clever,” Kellen decided, once Dimble returned (still sinking of putrefied pussycat), “We hit the side entrance and we hit it now.”
Kellen approached the side door, utilizing his considerable acting prowess to pass himself off as a melancholic drunk. He began banging on the portal until it was thrown open by a belligerent servant brandishing a crossbow.
“Piss off, you old lush!” the servant warned, gripping the weapon in shaking hands, “You don’t live here! Now get you gone before I… I… zzzzzzzzz.”
The servant succumbed to the invisible waves of magic being projected from Gelert’s outstretched hands, plunging into a deep, sorcerous slumber. The rest of the thieves scurried into the house and secured the sleeping servant. Kellen borrowed the man’s uniform and slipped it on, changing roles as easily as another man (well, maybe not Dimble) changes undergarments. Having successfully infiltrated the mansion, the thieves began their search for the merchant’s son.