Thieves - A Roses & Wyght Story: Chapter 2 - The Order Of Two

(Read the previous chapter here.)

System: Adventurers!

Tools: CRGE; Never Engine’s Random Tables; RPGsolo.com; Donjon’s generators; Freewolf’s Party Connections; and other generators.

(The above contains affiliate links.)

[Setup]

Before writing this chapter, I had to establish my Thieves Guild. I randomly determined the number of members (9) and used Donjon’s NPC generator to randomly choose the nine members. For the most part, I used the information from the generator for names, descriptions, and character traits. In a few cases, however, I did take the liberty to alter some details to fit my own ideas for the story.

So far, the only character I’ve developed further was Ilhard  Folcey, the stranger from the tavern. Since I anticipated that he would be a major character I wanted to establish some more background and personality details. For this, I used the NPC Creation Tables in the d30 Sandbox Companion. I will revisit this resource for the other thieves if and when it becomes necessary to fill out their character information.

The final step in creating the guild was to generate some pre-existing relationships. For this I used Freewolf’s Party Connections table. For each thief I randomly chose two of the other thieves and rolled a relationship from the table for each one. When I was finished I had a big messy pile of eighteen different connections I needed to sort out. A bunch of them was used to develop a brief history of several of the characters and the creation of the guild. A few others filled in some basic facts (i.e. two of the members are drinking buddies). The rest were set aside to be explored later if they ever come up. I plotted all the relationships on a table that I will share at the end of this chapter. My interpretations of the various relationships will be revealed in the narrative at the appropriate times.

[Scene 1: Surge 4]

Main Thread: Leira and Thieves Guild

Minor Threads: 

Tristan’s Wedding; Bhart’s Career; Conspiracy against the King

Does Leira have an encounter on the way to the meeting place.? (Unless otherwise noted, all random encounters are a 1-in-6 chance.  Roll: 2. No encounter.

Leira reaches the building at which Ilhard instructed her to meet him. It is a two-story, detached structure that appears to be a private home. While the street isn’t completely deserted, at this time of evening there are few people out and those that are are several buildings away. Sensing the coast is as clear as it will get, the leather-clad wannabe thief approaches the front door and knocks.

Leira waits for someone to answer the door and quickly grows impatient. She wonders if maybe there was another less exposed entry she was supposed to use when a faint scratching comes from the door and she sees the light in the peephole wink out. Instinctively she moves her hand to her dagger as the door opens a crack, revealing the shadowed face of the man from the bar. [Does Ilhard come to the door? To Conflict: 79+4 Surge = 83 Yes (Surge + 2)]

Ilhard grins. “Come in.”

He steps aside and opens the door barely a few inches more. Leira pushes through, her shoulders brushing the jamb as she enters. 

“Aren’t we a little overdressed?” the thief asks, eyeing Leira’s black leathers and weapons.

(Is Ilhard dressed the same as he was in the bar? To Knowledge: 78+6 Surge = 84 Yes, and . . .  see below. [Surge resets])

Leira notes that Ilhard is still in the pants and loose-fitting shirt he was wearing at the Faint Mule. In fact, he is barefoot, having shed his worn boots, and his shirt is unbuttoned to just below his chest.  [... and he has removed his shoes and loosened his shirt.]

“Well,” Leira stammers, suddenly self-conscious. “I just . . . just wanted to be prepared. You didn’t clue me in as to what to expect.”

Illhard grins enigmatically then gestures in the direction of an open doorway at the end of the short entryway. 

“Go on,” he instructs.

Leria steps into a large, comfortably furnished living area. Fine woven drapes cover the windows. Paintings of nature scapes cover the walls. Little boxes, bowls, and trinkets adorn the mantle, bookcase, and small tables that are arranged around the room. In addition to Ilhard and herself, seven other strangers, all humans, either sit on the sofa and chairs or stand along the wall. To Leira’s surprise, the women outnumber the men four to three. (Ilhard evens the group up to four each.) Seeing that everyone in the room is dressed in a comfortable style similar to Ilhard, she raises an arm in a futile attempt to hide her choice of outfit.

“Everyone,” Ilhard addresses the room. “This is Leira.” There was a half-hearty greeting in return, with only one or two of them offering a smile or raising a hand to wave a hello. One blonde female rogue sitting on a settee doesn’t even bother looking up. Instead, she carefully studies a dark cloak draped over her lap, hands nimbly drawing needle and thread through its fabric. The only person in the room who actually seems genuinely pleased to meet her is a slightly chubby, dark-haired male sitting at the table munching on a turkey leg. He flashes her a toothy smile (bits of meat stuck between his teeth) and gives her an exaggerated wave.

Ilhard introduces the group to Leira, beginning with a white-haired man sitting in a padded chair to their left. “This is Wyny. Next to that door is Elyn,” indicating a tall, slender woman with short grey hair.  “The woman sewing on the settee is Elinzia.”

Elinzia uses her dagger to cut the thread and, at the mention of her name, looks up. “Oh, hi!” she greets before shifting her attention to Ilhard and holding up the cloak. “I’m almost done, Ilhard. What do you think?” On the back of the cloak is an ornate embroidered snake stitched in reds with a hint of gold. The eye of the snake glittered as though it were a gem, but Leira could not confirm that from across the room. 

Ornate Embroidered Snake

“Really nice. Looks just like Alfaf.” Leira casts him a questioning glance. “My pet snake.” Her eyebrows raise in curious understanding at his explanation.

Moving his attention to the couch, Ilhard continues the introductions. “Sitting together are Hily and Ausan,” indicating a woman with thick, wavy red locks and another with long straight raven hair. “And at the table are Vyncent,” a handsome man with long brown hair tied back in a ponytail and an anchor style beard and mustache, “and Ausan’s brother Driffin.” Taking a longer look, Leira can see the resemblance between the brunette and the turkey-eater. They are so similar, in fact, she suspected they might be twins.

“Are you done with introductions?” Asks Elyn, sounding bored and irritated.

“Yes,” Ilhard replies, drawing out the “es” in “yes”. “You may notify Beada.”

Without turning away from the room, Elyn reaches her arm out and raps a few times on the door beside her. 

While they wait, Ilhard leans over and whispers in Leira’s ear. “If spoken to, address her as Master Thief Beada and be sure to use the full title: Master Thief.”

“Why?” she asks, but before Ilhard can explain the door opens and Beada steps through.

“Perhaps keep it simple and just call her ‘Master.” No first name,” Ilhard suggests before turning his full attention toward the leader of the guild.

Beada Ashbane is a striking woman with messy platinum-white hair and amber eyes. Unlike everyone else, she comes dressed for business in dirty brown leather armor, visibly scarred from many battles. Maybe I’m not so out of place, after all, Leira thinks.  Beada’s serious eyes scan the room before stopping and inspecting the newcomer. 

“I see you went against my advice and brought the girl here anyway.” [Playeveryrole.com to determine Beada’s mood. The NPC gives: a bitter response]

“Yes, Master Thief Beada,” Ilhard responds. “I think you will find that she is very skilled.”

“She is a child!” the Master Thief snaps.

“Yes, she is young,” Ilhard agrees despite Leira’s insulted expression. “But so was Hily when she was recruited by my old guild.”

“I am not interested in how you did things on the West Side! This is my guild! Things are done my way!.”

“I understand, Master,” the chastened thief bows his head in submission and respect. “Besides skill, however, Leira has connections that might prove useful to your current interests. I trust you have heard of her heroics during the Sacrament Day assassination attempt.”

The white-haired woman softens ever so slightly and turns her attention to Leira.  “So, you wish to join the Order of Two.”

“The Order of Two?” Leira repeats obliviously.

“Have you told her nothing!” Beada snaps again at Ilhard.

“The Order of Two is the name of the guild,” he explains. “It refers to a thief’s strategy of working in pairs. One keeps a lookout while the other loots the premises.”

“Ilhard is correct when he says you could prove useful to the Guild," Beada continues. “But I have yet to be convinced that you are a capable thief.”

“Master,” Leira finally speaks up. “While I never thought of myself as a thief, I guess I could be called that. Ever since I was a young girl I was attracted by coins and trinkets and I often just took what I wanted. I knew nothing about stealth, distraction, or subterfuge and I was often caught, scolded, and even punished. Despite that, I didn’t want to stop. Over time I learned how to be sneaky and take things without being seen. As I got older I learned how to use charm and personality to distract people while I slipped a coin or two into my pocket. Once I even slipped a huntsman’s dagger from the belt around his waist without him knowing. In fact, it was that dagger that helped me uncover the plot against the King.”

Beada scowls. “It certainly seems you are a master pickpocket,” she says, oozing sarcasm with the word master. “But honestly, I can teach that to my dog.”

“Beada has a dog?” Leira hears Driffin whisper to Vyncent before he is silenced by a Beada’s dagger-like stare.

Turning back to Leira, the Master Thief smirks as she again studies her from head to toe. “I’m looking for someone with a much greater set of skills. A custom suit of armor and a shiny blade doesn’t necessarily turn a dog into a wolf.”

Leria drops her gaze at the admonishment.

“However, I’m willing to test you.” Beada strokes her chin with her thumb and forefinger as she thinks for a moment. Suddenly, her narrow eyes widen in realization. “I know. I would like you to retrieve something for me. An artifact of sorts. Have you ever heard of the House of Lost and Found?”

At her mention of the name, gasps arise from several of the thieves. Driffin stops mid-bite. Eliznia curses under her breath as she slips and runs the needle into her finger. Even Ilhard places a reassuring hand on Leira’s shoulder.

“Me dear, Yer in fer it now,” the red-headed Hily warns in a thick western-Arigord accent.

Leira lifts her chin, stands up a bit straighter and looks Beada in the eye. “No. I have not heard of that house.”

“The House of Lost and Found is the residence of Lord and Lady Blackster. They are a reclusive couple, rarely seen outside of their home. They are very selective about their acquaintances and attend only the most prestigious gatherings. Most of the year they travel the world, visiting exotic places and returning with extraordinary treasures. The home is a veritable Museum of the Unique . . . or so I’ve heard. I’ve never been inside myself.

“There is one particular item I am very interested in. It is rumored that on one of their recent excursions they brought back a salt carving or statue that either act as a portal or opens a portal.”

[I am using Never Engine’s “Weird [Stuff] Generator” to create the artifact. This tool offers the user a multi-sentence description of an unusual object with several key words removed and replaced with blanks. The user rolls on several tables to fill in the details. I chose to fill in a random three of these blanks to come up with the partial information Beada just shared. The remainder of the description will be filled in if and when the object is recovered.]

“Portal to where?” Leira asks.

“I do not know. That is what I want you to find out. My sources tell me the Blacksters are currently away from Duskcall. This gives you a perfect opportunity to enter their home and find the statue. If it is small enough, bring it to me. If not, find out all you can about it and return with the details.”

A glance around the room reveals to Leira that everyone has their eyes averted from her. 

“Ilhard!” Beada singles out the thief. “Since Leira is your charge, you will accompany her.”

“Aw rats teeth!” he curses under his breath. 

“That’s encouraging,” Leira responds.

“And you should have one more of the guild go with you,” Beada adds. “Ilhard, your choice.”

[Does Beada let Ilhard choose? To Knowledge: 54+0 surge=54 Yes (surge + 2)

Does he pick Vyncent? To Knowledge: 50 + 2 Surge=52 Yes (surge +2)]

Without hesitation, Ilhard chooses his friend Vyncent.

“Some friend you are,” Vyncent retorts, obviously not thrilled at Ilhard’s choice.

“Wait,” Leira interrupts. “I thought you only sent two thieves on a job?”

“It’s just a name, girl,” says the raven-haired Ausan, her voice deep and smoky. “We’re not foolish and we don’t take chances.”

“Really?” Vyncent questions. “Just going into that house is taking a chance.”

[Does anyone offer to take Vyncent’s place? To conflict [Unlikely - CRGE doesn’t have a mechanic for Likely or Unlikely, so I will roll twice and choose the most negative of the two rolls. The surge count will change based on the choice I make.  Roll 1: 5-4 surge=1 No, and unexpectedly (set change)   Roll 2: 77+4=81 Yes.  Roll 1 wins!

In CRGE, “and unexpectedly” is like a twist or a Mythic event. When you roll an “unexpectedly” you make a second roll on another table for further clarification. In this case, I rolled “set change” which means the scene continues in another location. (surge resets)]

“It’s settled,” Master Thief Beada announces, putting an end to the chit-chat. “You pass this test, Leria, and you will earn yourself a spot in the Order of Two. Now Ilhard, show her out. We have members-only business to attend to.”

Before Leira can protest she is practically pushed out of the room and into the entryway. Ilhard closes the door behind him. 

Leira whips around and snarls, “What the hellhound was that! I thought the Huntsmen were the only ones who practiced assassination, character or otherwise!”

“Shhh! Calm down. It’ll be okay.”

“Okay! It’s obvious that no one wants me here! And the House of Lost Things, or whatever it’s called, just sounds like a place best to avoid.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll just breeze in, find out what we can, and slip out. Easy. That is unless you’re chicken?”

“I’m not chicken!” Leira declares, then pauses to let out a long breath and slumps her shoulders. “I’m just feeling a bit foul.”

Ilhard lets out a hearty chuckle though he is uncertain the pun was intentional. Putting a rough hand on the girl’s shoulder he leads her to the door.

“It’ll be okay. I’ll be with you and there’s no better thief in the guild than Vee. We’ll protect you. Just meet me at the Faint Mule an hour before midnight. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” Leira says uncertainly, but repeats it with more confidence. “Yes. I can do that.”

With that, she is shown out the front door.

[Everything Beada told her about the House and the artifact will be treated as a Rumor and resolved using my favorite Rumour Table. At the appropriate time, I will make a roll on the Truth Table.  Assuming Beada’s sources are somewhat reliable I will add +2 to the roll, pushing the result more toward “true.” My plan was to offer one more separate rumor about the mission, however, the sudden scene change nixed that.]

[Scene 2, surge count 0]

Main Thread:Bhart’s business

Minor Threads: Leira and the thieves guild; Tristan’s Wedding; Conspiracy against the King

Bhart starts out early the next morning by renting a horse and cart from Naglen’s brother Oldack, who manages the Scarlet Bear Stables. (2gp) When his business takes off, Bhart knows he will need to buy his own horse and cart, but this will do for today. Loading the cart with some samples of his work, he heads off toward the eastern gate and the farms beyond the city walls.

The farms beyond the city walls

The new businessman first comes across the Meadowhunter farm, where he speaks with Shepard, the head of the household. The two have a pleasant conversation and Bhart learns that there has been a rash of fox attacks on the farm’s chickens. The traps Shepard currently uses are fine, but fail every now and again, letting the fox escape and reach the fowl. Bhart listens intently, then explains why the latches and mechanisms on his traps are superior to what he is currently using (making sure not to give away any specific manufacturing secrets). In addition to his traps, Bhart will survey Shepard’s coop and make recommendations for the best places to set the traps in order to stop the most varmints. Shepard is convinced enough to purchase one trap to try and possibly more in the future if the first one lives up to Bhart’s claims.

This scene more or less replays itself another five times throughout the course of the day. While there were a couple of farmers who are happy with the products they are already using, the remaining three place orders of their own. One farmer, Ansel Lowwater, was having a similar issue as Shepard with foxes. The remaining were interested in quail traps, hoping to put some additional food on the dinner table. [Type of trap RG]

As the sun began to set, Bhart drove the cart home please with himself for making four sales. Tomorrow, he would begin building the traps.  (Profit for each trap sold will be 1gp.)

[For the record, I asked CRGE if any of the farmers were familiar with Bhart’s father’s traps? If they were, I was going to give Bhart an advantage to selling them a trap. The result was “No”, Surge +2.]


[Scene 3, surge count 2]

Main Thread: Tristan’s Wedding

Minor Threads: Leira and the thieves guild; Bhart’s Business; Conspiracy against the King

“I am here to talk to you about my daughter.”

Tristan studies the man standing just outside his front door. The stranger, who appears to be in his late forties or early fifties, is rather large, but not fat. His blond but greying hair is wavy and cropped and he wears a busy mustache under his hooked nose. His clothes are of fine linen and all the buttons, clasps and buckles are brightly polished.

[I rolled to randomly choose who visits Tristan: Maegan, her father, mother, or both. Once again, I used the d30 Sandbox Companion to roll up some details and a profession for Maegan’s (Cherry’s) father. Names are randomly generated. I used UNE to determine the topic of conversation. The mood is “neutral” and the conversation is the scheming father wants to speak with Tristan about an arrangement regarding the campaign.  In this instance, the campaign will be the wedding.]

Tritan gives a long sigh before responding. “Mr. Freedane?” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Yes,” the well-dressed man confirms. “You are Master Tristan Cleves, correct? The young man who wishes to marry my daughter Maegan?”

The bard nods and ushers the man inside and shows him to the sitting-room.

“I’ll cut right to the chase, young man. Prior to last week I have never heard of you, Tristan Cleves. So when my middle daughter [Siblings Info Per Oracle Roll] came to me and begged me for an advance on her dowry to bail her fiance out of jail, what do you think went through my mind?”

“Listen, sir, I’m sorry to put you through all this,” Tristan apologies. “I didn’t ask her for the money. She did that on her own. The fact is, I’ve been under a lot of stress these past few days struggling to decide if I even want to go through with the wedding. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. It’s not that I don’t like your daughter, I do. I just don’t know if I can trust her.”

“Because she likes to pretend to be someone else,” Mr. Freedane says with a tone of understanding. [Does her Father know about her facade? To Knowledge: 80+4 surge: 84 Yes, and… (surge resets)  C.Q. to inform “and” - Negligence/Good]

“She told you about that?” Tristan asks, slightly surprised.

“Son, she’s been pretending to be someone else since she was old enough to talk. That’s why her mother and I encouraged her to pursue a formal acting career. It might not be as prestigious as a Law career--our family business--but it came to her naturally. Unfortunately, she hasn’t always been content to stay within the constraints of her formal studies. She often takes to the streets and assumes the role of a peasant, thief, beggar, and yes, even a prostitute. [and... ] I’ve scolded her and demanded that she not neglect her formal training and embrace the respectable theater. But Maegan has a mind of her own and claims that she learns more on these outings than on a stage. However, now I’m beginning to wonder if some good can’t come out of this after all.”

Tristan stares questioningly at the man through narrowed eyes. “What are you thinking?”

“My wife Ambra and I don’t exactly see eye-to-eye in regards to Maegan’s future. My wife is set on marrying Maegan off to Artus Robinchild’s son Kenneth. Artus is a  fellow lawyer, but the man is an embarrassment to the profession. He’s basically afraid to argue a case and prefers settling for much less than what his clients are due. The only reason people hire him is because he’s cheap and they believe what they give up in the settlement they’ll make up for in reduced Lawyer’s fees.  Kenneth, Artus’ son, is as much of a dolt as his dad, not knowing a legal release from a liability waiver. I don’t like the idea of my Maegan becoming a laughing stock through marriage. Her mother, however, cares about none of that. She only sees the prestige and security in being married to a lawyer.”

“Has Maegan shown any interest in this Kenneth,” Tristan asks. “And what does this have to do with me?”

“Of course Maegan doesn’t want to marry the Robinchild boy. But Ambra can be insistent, persistent, persuasive, and basically a pain in the ass until she has her way. I’m afraid she’ll wear down the girl, despite my feelings. But in you, Tristan, I have hope!”

“Me?” Tristan asks wide-eyed. 

“Maegan loves you! In just these few days she has made that evident. She speaks of you as if you’re a prince. She’s been heart-broken these past several days, weeping in her room over the thought of losing you. She’s told me all about you and you sound like an upstanding young man. The fact you were willing to marry her to make her into a respectable woman shows that you do care. Never mind about trust. She has spoken of loving no one else before you.”

“And Mrs. Freedane is fine with marrying her daughter to a bard instead of a lawyer?”

“Oh, of course not!” Freedane admits emphatically. “Performers are too flighty and uncertain. She doesn’t mind Maegan acting, but that is only because she feels her real security will come through marriage to a man in a stable profession.”

“Such as a lawyer,” Tristan says.

“Such as a lawyer,” Freedane agrees. “Or, a merchant!” he adds, sitting back in his chair, arms folded and grinning widely. “Sure, it’ll be a step down from lawyer, but with the right persuasion, as well as the right candidate, I think Ambra can be convinced.”

Tristan throws his hands up in the air. “That’s great! Except for the fact that I’m not a merchant!”

“Yes, yes,” Freedane stands. He begins to pace left and right. “Here’s our plan. You, son, are going to have to find employment, even if only till the wedding. But you’re not going to tell Ambra that. You need to make her think you are serious about becoming a true businessman. Then, once you have this job, come to our house and ask for our daughter’s hand, the proof of your love being the fact that you are focusing on your new merchant career.”

“Providing I can even find a job,” Tristan blurts, now standing himself, “How am I supposed to convince your wife that I’ll be a better husband than Kenneth?”

“You’re a bard. Isn’t that what you’re trained to do? Tell convincing stories.”

“Great, I’ll bring my lute and sing her a song.”

Freedane wildly waves his hand and shakes his head. “No, no. That’s too corny. Ambra will think you’re not taking this seriously.”

Tristan drops his head into his hand and shakes it back and forth, never actually being serious about serenading Maegan’s mother.

“But what you should do,” the father continues, “Is to mention how you stopped the scoundrel who tried to assassinate the King. That will impress her! A merchant and a hero! Yes, this just might work. Tristan,” Freedane extends his hand, in part to prematurely congratulate the bard, but also to seal the deal. “If this does work, it won’t be long before I’ll be calling you ‘Son’.”

Reluctantly, Tristan accepts the handshake. What am I getting myself into? he thinks as Freedane vigorously pumps his arm up and down.

[Click HERE for the Thieves Guild Relationship Table ]

(Read next chapter here.)