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Dragon Heist

Phira scrambles to their feet, having to catch themself on the wall as they grab their crutches and, leaning on them heavily, follow Matches outside. "I...not to offend you again, sir, but could we walk a little slower? I'm sorry. My legs are....I don't walk well." The falcon lands on her shoulder for a moment and Phira smiles, leaning her head to let the bird nip at her ear. "So...where to first? I must confess, I did not find Mister Volo to be a very good source of information he seems a little confused on his own tale of what happened."
 
Ny stands up and helps the others head out the door to go after Matches. "Matches will probably have us heading down into the Dock Ward, probably this afternoon. Be prepared for a long day and night. Welcome aboard everyone."
 
The dark skies and the persistent rain belie the fact that it's only late afternoon in Waterdeep. The red-throated aarakocra, the gnome, the tiefling and the hobbling firbolg make an odd picture as they follow the two half-drow. They work their way deeper into the Dock Ward, down the broad, paved thoroughfare of Snail Street. The rainwater that has collected in the many depressions made by years of Waterdhavian bootsteps leaps up to avoid the investigators' feet, before being beaten down again by the steady downpour.

As the group turn left into Fillet Lane towards the Skewered Dragon they are stopped in their tracks by a rope that looks like it has been hastily slung across the road. Beyond the cordon stand members of the City Watch in their uniforms of green and gold. One stands near the rope whilst a dozen others seem to be in the process of arresting three blood-drenched humans. Another guard squats next to a tarpaulin draped over the cobbles. He lifts a corner and shakes his head, giving a clear view of several bodies with unmistakably fatal wounds.

Seeing Matches, Ny'veph and the others approach, the nearest guard stands tall and holds up her hand, palm facing outwards. "There's no coming down here tonight, I'm afraid." She tells them. And, in case they didn't get the hint, "move along now, there's nothing to see here." She points a firm finger back towards Snail Street.
 
These new kids always get so worked up, looks like Zents, potential gang violence. This stuff happens but, sometimes the strangest things are connected.

"Take it easy kid, we're not accociates of those Zhentarim shit bags. Just trying to get the a tavern." His hands held defensively in front of him, in mock surrender. A small smirk on his face, little did she know that he could blast her to oblivion by touching his thumbs together. Luckily for her they were on the same side...

"Looks like you caught some flunkies in a street fight? What went down officer? Who're the guys pushing daisies?"
 
Ny caught the Zhent markings on the apprehended thugs. He wasn't super worried about them. While the Drow weren't numerous yet in the 'Deep, those that were here had nasty reputations. A fact that Ny was more than willing to take advantage of an exploit to the full extent. Phira and Matches helped out perfectly distracting and annoying the guards so that he could take a look under the covers at the victims. 'Knowing who was killing who paid good money and earned favors with various contacts in the city. Besides if he missed anything Matches would give him a smack to the side of the head for each missed clue or opportunity.' Lately, the number of swats had dropped significantly, and that was a trend he intended to continue. Remembering the penalty for magic use, Ny summoned aa mage hand under the covers. At the right moment when the kneeling guard turned his head, he flipped the cover back to look at the faces and dispelled the hand. 'Just the wind officers, just the wind. Nothing suspicious here.'
 
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Examining the crime scene was intriguing. Ny almost wished he was part of the guard so that he could have gotten a better look at the crime scene without having to play silly games. He managed to flip the covering back from the dead without the guards really noticing much, just attributing it to the wind. While none of the dead themselves looked unusual, a ring with what looked like a cat eye caught his attention on one of the dead. After the guards flipped the covers back, Ny quietly concentrated and brought the hand back to like under the covers and found the ring. Getting it off the hand wasn't bad. 'Now how to get the ring for later? Hm, that roof should do, move along the ground then up the wall and drop it on the rooftop? Yeah, best immediate landmark. Please let me luck hold on a bit longer.' As the hand darted up the wall and dropped the ring, Ny knew he had pushed his luck too far for the day...or had he?
"Officer, I think I saw somebody on that roof over there" quietly pointing to the next roof to the one he dropped the ring on. "It was a quick movement but I don't think you all are alone."
 
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Phira steps forward, tilting her head to the lead guard. "Excuse me ma'am, I am sorry to bother you, but I'm looking for a friend...do any of the dead bodies have red hair and possibly a yellow shirt and black pants." She glances about, eyes careful as she scans the open space, before glancing over at the others to make sure they were alright.
 
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As Phira, Matches and Ny'veph try to engage the guard stationed at the cordon in conversation, she is clearly unhappy with their approach. She pushes her tunic to one side and puts her hand very conspicuously on the pommel of her sword. "Sirs, madam, you cannot come down this way. You need to back off!"

Perhaps the guard was initially intimidated by Phira's height, but as she gets closer, and her question sinks in, the guard decides she's no threat and softens a little. “Definitely no one of that description. Friend of yours? Unless they’re mixed up with a gang you don’t need to worry.”

Turning to Malone she explains "I really can't discuss an ongoing investigation, you need to move along and find another route." At Ny'veph's gesture, though, she looks up at the roof and squints through the rain. "I don't see anyone, but thank you, I'll pass on the inf..." But is cut short by a shout from guard who had been examining the bodies. "What the...!" He looks older than the rest and more dishevelled, as though he hasn't had a good night's sleep in some time, and is clearly looking in the direction that the disembodied hand had followed. He twists around, searching for the source of the conjuration and his eyes rest on Matches.

The guard marches over and with a sneer on his face says "Well if it isn't Malonely. I heard they'd let you out." Looking over his companions he smirks and scoffs. "Interesting new friends you've got."

"You still doing your little parlor tricks? If I find out that you're responsible for that," he waves towards the rooftop, "I'll make sure you go straight back inside."

He yawns widely, bored of the conversation. "You've no business here. Stay away from the professional investigators, we're really very busy here." Turning to the guard on the rope he says. "Get them out of here."
 
Discretion being better than jailtime, especially with limited friends and resources, Ny pushes his damp hair away from his face and nods at the disgruntled officer. Heading away a block, Ny tries to go over a block and then up and over two, so as to be on the opposite side of the crime scene. Hopefully the officers can wrap the scene up quickly and he could get back here to look for the ring. He knew he would quietly mention the ring to the group in the hopes that one would recognize the pattern but leave off the attempted confiscation. He would have to try and handle that later. 'At times being a Private Eye and searching for missing people meant bending the rules and he didnt feel comfortable yet with some of the new comers seeing something that they might consider being thought of as shady.'
 
Haxton Jenks, they don't come more courupt then him. I had a case file on him before I went away. Funny when I was arrest and they sacked my place they never found it... Too bad for him I'm smart enough to not leave things laying around. I just need to get it into the right hands, unfortunately those hands are out of my reach right now. The word of a convicted felon against a decorated investigator? It'd be pointless, doesn't mean I can't make him sweat in the meantime.

Reaching into his coat slowely to not alarm the rookie, its always rookies on line duty. He takes out another cigarette. "Take it easy Jenks, your badge doesn't make you a saint. In fact I think someone was investigating you actually... Before I went away if I remember correctly,"

Turning his back to the man he starts walking back up the street, "to bad no one ever found those files when you got me arrested. I'll give Cromely your regards."

He struggles to keep his posture casual, but on the inside the fire is burning. Just give me an excuse you piece of shit. One good reason and I'll cook you alive for what you did.
 
Lox was quietly padding his way down the street after his new companions while they made their way to the Skewered Dragon. Seeing the scene that had unfolded before him, the blood spattered prisoners, the men under the cloth, Lox instinctively reached towards his herbalism pouch at his hip, ready to pass out some salves or poultices if need be. Lox was quickly able to tell that these men were not covered in their own blood, and the men under the sheet were beyond any aid he could provide, and he let the pouch fall to his side once more.

Lox was more than content to just sit back and watch the others do their work for the time being. The one they called Matches seemed to really be in his element here, asking lots of questions that hadn't even occurred to Lox to ask about the scene in front of them, and the others seem fine with letting him take the lead as far as -- hold up a minute. Out of the corner of his eye Lox thought he saw a flicker of movement from the bodies, almost like there was a hand reaching out from under the sheet...was one of them alive? His attention was drawn to a subtle movement from Ny'veph when another flicker of movement caught his eye up towards the roof of a nearby building. Lox snapped his gaze directly onto some sort of translucent hand of some sort for a brief second before it disappeared. He was about to call out to his new companions to alert them when Ny pointed out the exact same thing.

Satisfied that his information had been successfully passed along, Lox watched the tense exchange between Matches and the guard with some interest before spryly bouncing beside Matches as they left the scene. Giving Matches a winning smile, "So this 'Jenks'...old friend of yours?"
 
Cassar trails behind the rest of the group as they leave the scene, still lost from the rush of information at the crime scene. "It only just now occurs to me how out of my element I am. Ny, I didn't know you would be that at home at a crime scene." He pauses, and coughs as he realizes just how bad that sounded, "That came out wrong. Did anyone find anything?"
 
"The guys kneeling and waiting to be taken away were 'Zhentarim', also called 'The Black Hand'. Those on the ground were another gang. THey belonged to a newish group that I'm not aware of...One had a ring with something with a single eye, looked a bit like a cat's eye, but I haven't seen anything else like it before. Then again I've been out of the 'Deep' for several years. We are in the middle of something that is much larger than us. We all need to be on our toes and eyes open." Ny paused, and brushed the wet hair out of his eyes, and scanned the rooftops of the area, feeling uneasy, as if there was someone watching them, 'Probably nerves. I hope that it is only nerves.'
"As for being calm and knowing what to look for? My parents were friends with Matches back when I was a young child before we had to leave because of prejudice and multiple attempts to setup my parents under false pretenses. Matches would teach me things to look for with crooks and investigating things. This was before he was framed himself. Sadly my parents were gone and couldn't help return the favor that he had done for them. Since then, I've spent a lot of time with my mother in the woods, learning tricks from her ranger background. A lot of the tips and tricks apply to the city, just a slightly different mindset." Sighing, he plodded on through the wet streets. "Not much difference between a dead animal in the woods and dead body in the street. Just depends on who did it, and how messy they were when they did..." 'Times I really hate my upbringing' After another block or two he continued, "Dad was a wizard and alchemist, he taught me about research, patience and a different type of observation, and reactions. Everything is a reaction of one element or catalyst to another...We'll talk more when we get back to the room tonight Cas. Going to be a long night."
 
Cassar's feathers fluff out as he hears NY's story, AMD he let's out a low hum. I thought I had a rough childhood. Granted, it obly lasted a year before I met Tana, but still. "I'm so sorry, Ny. I'll make sure to make us something warm before we talk, maybe some drinks too."
 
The little fellow has a sense of humor it would seem. I chuckle at the fact he called him a friend, "friend? I wouldn't piss on Jenks if he were on fire Lox. No he's as courupt as they come, I've got enough evidence stashed away to lock him up for good."

The bitter taste in my mouth from the whiskey gets worse he more I think about the man. The idea of setting him on fire seems more and more like a good idea.

"Only problem is the word of a convict is no good, evidence can be fabricated they'll say. That's even if I can get it to the right person, I have a feeling what I know is only the smallest portion."

I probably shouldn't say much more to someone I met in a tavern a few minutes ago, but my bloods up and I'm not thinking straight. I need a warm fire and a drink, that and to fix these holes in my shirt. Can't keep going through clothes like this, cuts into the profits.
 
The rain continues to hammer down as the group turn away from the crime scene. Matches leads them back onto Snail Street, taking a couple of left turns to take them down Net Street and then through a narrow passageway around the back of Fillet Lane. The sign to the Skewered Dragon can be seen a few gray buildings away, bashing against the stone walls as the wind catches it. Flecks of red and silver are all that remains of the painting that once adorned the sign - its image lost from years of neglect. Most of the lamps here have been broken, their candles stolen, and the meagre light escaping from windows does little to illuminate the wet cobbles underfoot.

Amidst the uninviting, grimy terrace of shops and houses, one storefront stands out. It has a deep purple facade, and in its window hangs something large and spherical. Through the gloom can be seen 'Old Xoblob Shop' written in jaunty letters above the door.
 
Lox chuckled initially at Matches initial response, but fell into an awkward silence as he explained the situation. He didn’t realize that there was some serious bad blood between them, he though that maybe the two of them had just disliked each other.

As they walked, Lox marveled at the city, unaware of the poor condition that they were in; this was all new and exciting to him. It was because of this wonder that Lox was staring at the interesting shop signs and colorful houses when he noticed the pale face in the Old Xoblob Shop. Since it ducked away quickly, possibly noticing that it had been seen, Lox figured that it was a good idea to bring it up to his new allies. Tugging on the hem of Matches shirt, “What is a Xoblob, do you know? Cuz in this shop over here someone seemed like they were watching us, but they ducked away from the window once I saw them.”
 
Duck says a few hushed prayers, for the souls lost.
"Any loss of life is a loss worth mourning over."
He finishes his prayers and sprinkles a few flower petals where he stands and as he walks.

He doesn't mind being rained on, but for one reason or another, just like it's been all his life, the water seems to almost disappear right as it touches him or his belongings. Sometimes he forgets, remembering everytime he hears the thunder roll and sees people start to run indoors.

They get to their desired destination, Duck watches Matches fidgeting with a few small rips in his shirt. I could fix those up for him if he asks. Hmm. Maybe I'll ask him if he'd let me fix them. I haven't used my sewing kit almost since Mag gave it to me.
Then he looks up at the sign clattering around in the winds; noise usually drew his eyes towards any given thing.

"...ducked away..."

"Hmm, what? Sorry, I was distracted, what did you say?" His eyes widen for a second as he realizes how much attention he hasn't really been paying to the world around him.
After surely being informed of his hearing mistake, he, with a wide mouth, softly exclaims, "ohhhhhh... Well, whatever a Xoblob is, I'm definitely interested in buying one. I just hope they aren't expensive. I hate to ask prices and then not buy something."
 
When you've lived in Waterdeep for as long as I have, you start to know the streets like that back of your hand. This one was a wart that grew without being noticed, that you should probably see a doctor about.
Everything here was unfamiliar. Well not everything, just the smaller details. The names of shops for example.

I smoked more as we walked, shoulders hunched against the weather. Why couldn't people go missing on nights with better weather? My musings were interrupted by Lox, the small fellow we picked up in the Yawning Portal. He seemed alright and at least paid for the good stuff.

If we weren't such an odd looking group, I might think twice about people staring at us as Lox reported. The name drew me in though, what the hell was a Xoblob anyway?

"Well my small friend, let's find out what a Xoblob is." I could use as excuse to get out of the weather, and the neighbourhood snoop often had the best view
 
Phira hums in agreement from her spot at the back of the little group, hood pulled up to keep some of the rain off of her face. "Yeah, let's. I've never heard that word before." She admits quietly, glancing around with a high level of nerves since they were a pretty noticeable group. "I just, hope there's no runnin' involved, I'm pretty awful at that." She says with a tired laugh, following the half elf into the store as carefully as she can, making a note not to buy much as she had very little money at the moment.
 
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Cassar shakes his wings to get some of the water out, and hums. He actually likes the rain, though even he admits that he wouldn't mind some shelter right about now. He cocks his head towards Phira as she speaks.
"I don't think you need to worry Phira. Shopping usually doesn't involve much running. I don't know about you guys, but I think I've been to enough bars for the night."
 
Seeing the monstrosity, even stuffed or whatever in the nine hells that the owner had done to the creature gave Ny the shivers. Once one of the others gave a name to the creature, he vaguely remembered a tale his father had told him of his adventuring days. Their group 'Torvak's Wisps' had run into one in an old tomb. They had lost two of the Wisps permanently that day. One turned to a pile of ash and the other into a stone statue. He mentioned that the beast was the reason why the group had disbanded shortly after, and why he and mom had come to Waterdeep. 'By the merciful gods above and below, may I not see one of those creatures for a very very long time...if ever...'
Feeling drenched from the rain that was now running down his back and not just soaking his clothes, Ny was a bit eager to enter the shop. Didn't really matter if the 'mystery' peeper had any answers or not. He wasn't sure how far it was to the bar, but getting out of the wet and damp had to be better than the alternative even briefly. 'Really can't wait until I get stronger like dad. Rain couldn't touch him or the house if he didn't want it too...'
 
The 'monstrosity' hanging in the window of the Old Xoblob Shop has a diameter of around six feet and takes up pretty much the entire space. It is a Beholder. Or more precisely had once been a Beholder. It is now stuffed, suspended against a backdrop of deep plum velvet, and has seen better days. Either it's very old or the result of an amateur taxidermist. Its shrivelled and faded leathery skin surrounds a magenta glass eye the size of a human head. Several tubes protrude from its central mass, some of which are dangling off precariously. A few of these also sport matching, but smaller, glass orbs. There are also a few holes where clearly some of its protrusions have fallen off and been removed. A wrinkled mouth below its eye displays a handful of long, razor-sharp teeth.
 
Seeing the stuffed beholder, Lox instinctively put matches between him and the beholder as they entered the store. There was no way that this was real right? His parents had told him so many lies over the course of the years, but here in front of this store was an exact representation of the monster they told him would come and gobble him up in the night if he left the village. Those first few nights on his own he spent burrowed under fallen trees, covering himself with leaves so he wouldn’t be able to see the many eyes if they were to creep up on him in the dark. He instinctively made the protective gesture of warding off evil that he learned as a child, bringing the thumb and pinky finger of his right hand to the upper corners of his forehead, dragging them down the outsides of his face before rejoining them into a fist when he reached his chin.

“What kind of shop would keep a stuffed beholder outside their window.” Lox whispered quietly to his companions while shaking his head. “Storefronts are supposed invite you in, not creep you out right?”
 
"Have to admit as terrifying as it is, it draws your attention. I am almost more terrified to find out what the hell the shop owner sells if he has a stuffed beholder in the window." Ny started to look around the shop, with an occasional glance towards the stuffed beholder, praying that it stayed stuffed...' Yeah, that is the stuff of nightmares and things that go bump in the night.'
 
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