In the grim and dank shadowy depths of the Rust slums, a small group waited and observed the chaos unfolding at the Grinner’s drug flop house. The young leader’s sharp eyes twitched from window to window as he calculated the situation, his mind constantly spinning webs of strategy. Beside him stood a loyal guard, muscles tense and ready and a man in dark grey robes. Above him on a nearby rooftop, a small dexterous woman perched and relayed her observations to the group below, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.
Through the boarded-up windows, they watched and witnessed the grim tableau inside the drug flop house. The door splintered as the party burst in, their presence immediately met with a barrage of crossbow bolts from the dwarven guards. In the midst of the chaos, children, shackled to the floor, screamed and ducked to avoid the deadly battle unfolding around them.
Pavil , the hired muscle of the party and Cory, skillfully maneuvered across the room, engaging the guards in a fierce melee. However, a sinister turn occurred when one of the dwarven guards, wounded and desperate, seized a child as a hostage, his blade dangerously close to the innocent’s throat. Kolbus, in a moment of calculated surrender, lowered his bow only to swiftly draw his dagger, attempting to save the child. Tragically, his action was not swift enough, and the child fell victim to the dwarf’s blade.
As the group moved their way upstairs sight lines were blocked from the boards but, bright flashes of green light illuminated the night, followed by agonized screams. Within seconds, two masked figures leaped from the second story, landing with a thud before limping away from the conflict.
Seconds later an explosion rocked the building’s second floor, the leader’s eyes narrowed. The group came out the ragged children in tow. They were hurt, pushed to their limit and seeming fewer in number than when they entered. He quickly assessed the situation, recognizing the opportunity amidst the chaos. “Alaric, as they leave use your divine blessings to slip past the flames. Retrieve some of the Moon Snow. We might turn this disaster to our advantage,” he instructed.
The devoted young sandy haired man in robes nodded, his eyes glinting with conviction. He murmured prayers to the 6 Pillars, invoking their favor. With a swift motion, he moved through the fire, seemingly untouched by the flames, his hands steady as he collected samples of the Moon Snow within the burning wreck.
Meanwhile, the leader contemplated their next move. “Stay alert. Keep an eye on the survivors. We need to know what they are planning next. This disaster might have given us the opening we need,” he said, his mind already working on a new plan.
With the Moon Snow in hand, the devoted member returned, his face marked by the soot of the fire but his eyes filled with determination. The leader examined the samples, his mind racing with possibilities. “This Moon Snow… might well serve as a nice bump to our living conditions.” A smirk crossed his and the big man’s lips. The lithe woman silently moved her way down a rain spout to join them below. “Let’s continue to shadow them and gather more information.” He continued to his team. ” They don’t’ seem to be any closer to the relic’s whereabouts then us. They have lost a man and another is missing. Plus with the way they are living there is no way they can keep that Rendarian on the payroll. No need to fret we will not be letting down Taven!”
The group nodded in unison, their eyes reflecting the same determination that burned within the leader. They knew the game had just begun, and in the back streets of Silverbrook, they would play their part with finesse and calculation, waiting for the perfect moment to make their move.