Sticky Fingers and Golden Hearts

The dragon slaying warriors made their way into the heart of the aged and tarnished white stone city of Krezk. At first the city seemed more civilized than anything the group had seen since finding themselves in Barovia. But the sharp eyed Tabaxi saw tell tale signs that indicated more what she expected.

A carved up corner post on the end of a row of housing overlooked by most, told its own story. The carpenter was a friend and offered food but he was a cheat when it came to his wares.

The melted white candle wax on the sealed window mantle pointed out several hideaways and good storage dead drops to keep valuables.

The empty wine jars and shattered clay pots however told of the trade guilds district and the underground markets. Signs of warning to steer clear for threats of non guild members who would sooner slit your throat as rob you blind.

The city was chock full of such hidden details. But the city map the guard at the gate had given had the Thieves Guild Headquarters clearly marked. That’s the best place to learn the goings on in the city. And the fact that the party was headed there anyway was an added bonus.

——-

The fancy guildhall was run extremely efficiently. When the soldier said the Thieves guild was operating as the city’s hospice and hospital area-he meant it. The guild hall was packed with people. The central hub area housed a squinty eyed runt of a man. He was busy weighing a few silver falcons on a scale.

While the rest of the group spoke with the city cogsmith and his four copper plated warforged warriors, the group rogue found herself next to the coin scales. The squinty eyed man looked up at the feminine feline.
“I don’t recognize your face....and you don’t look like a helpless refugee.”

He sets the coins down and holds out a hand to shake. “My name is Dominic. Most people here call me Dom.”

Dom looks to the rest of the party and the warforged. “You certainly didn’t waste any time helping out. Did one of the families hire you?”

The Tabaxi takes his hand and shakes it firmly, wanting to show strength but not dominance.

“Aspen of the Tabaxi,” she replied pleasantly.

She shook her head.

“No one hired us this time. Our group tends to go wherever we’re needed. Sometimes that results in a monetary payout, sometimes it doesn’t.”

Gesturing at the full house, Aspen’s face grows inquisitive.

“It’s not exactly inside the guild wheelhouse to be housing refugees. Why the change of pace? Where did they all come from anyway?”

Dom slipped Aspen a Silver coin as smoothly as if the rogue had ever managed to do herself. He nodded in understanding.
“You are quite right. This whole ordeal is very much outside our normal operations.”

He spun to look around at the masses as he continued. The man rambled on talking something about ducks and the price of wheat and barley but Aspen clued in to the secret code and language of thieves. “As for where they’re from-it differs. Some from neighboring Borca fleeing religious persecution I believe, some from Krezk itself-having lost homes and businesses to the acts of rogue elements of the extremist sects of the Gundarakites, but the majority are unlucky Gundarakites themselves, thrust into the awkward position of choosing to either live in a city that doesn’t want them or to try and survive on the outskirts and wastelands to the south while staving off bloodthirsty moon beasts, dehydration, and foul creatures of the night.”

The man puts on a pair of spectacles as he looks back to the Tabaxi. “Unfortunately the timing could not be worse. The city food supply disappearing, stacked with the appearance of the strange ominous smoke to the north, talk of evil monsters afoot, and now rumors of plague having swept Villaki, are being seen as ill omens tied to the arrival of the Gundarakites. If you ask me, they never got a fair chance to make a case for themselves.”

He clears his throat, “All that to say, that’s why they are refugees. As for why we are the aid station, it’s partly because of our location being the center of the city, partly because the fire bombing and terrorizing of the city has led to the other bigger guilds to shut down, and lastly...and more importantly-the Noble families and city elite has secluded themselves off leaving us lessers to fend for ourselves.”

He glances around, but leans in conspiratorially, “Well most of the Noble houses anyway. Our own reach into the pockets of the wealthy though diminished has not completely dried up.” He gestured to a carving of a small green ‘S’ in the desk top that a lesser keen eye might have overlooked and said, “The Sorzano family has made inroads to the upper crusts and established themselves as respectable peers. Little do the wealthy nobles realize...the guild is the Sorzano family in all but name.” He chuckled quietly.

Dominic peered at Aspen and no longer speaking Thieves-Cant , “The city isn’t what it once was, but I have hope things will turn around....” Pointing a finger at Aspen, “..as long as goodwill is offered freely-good times and good coin can’t be far behind.”

He turned towards the party and asked the Tabaxi, “Are you thinking your troupe of friends will stick around town very long?”