Thunder booms as a chain of lightning flashes from one torrent storm cloud to the next. Howling wind rushes through the buildings of Rimuldar City, blowing dust and autumn leaves over the cobblestone streets. Soon, the angry black clouds hiding the moon's silver glow above will spew forth their rain, but so far they have held back.

As Rimuldar awaits the inevitable storm huddled inside, a small band of prowlers creep through the shadows of the night. With the Guard’s patrolmen either preparing for the storm or watching the streets from inside, the lurkers take advantage of the dark, empty streets and allies. Soon, they reach their destination, presumably unseen and unheard: a wealthy merchant's two-story home in the Upper Ward of the city.

Together, they select a bottom-floor window and prepare to enter. The front door would be prefferable, but is almost certainly locked considering the information their gang's fence passed along to them:

"Julian is a fat bugger. Makes his living in the spice trade," hissed the spindly old gargoyle behind his shady pawnshop's back-room table. "But, I happens to know he recently came into possession of a big ol' rock. Holding it for a friend, he is. Should still have it. Called the "Dragon's Tooth," it is -- a good-sized diamond cut long like a tooth." With the grimy claw of his little finger, the gargoyle flicks one of his own long, blackened canine teeth as if to illutrate its shape. "I'll give ya 300 gold for it. Don't even get smart and try to sell it elsewhere. By tomorrow, every gem dealer in the empire will know it got lifted!"

"Arrr, crap. I tolds you we should have lef earlier. Look ah me, I'm soaked to de bones already." Frank complained. "So do yous gois still wanna try a ground-level window, or shall we start on top, and den wohk our way down." Frank peers into the window, to see what's awaiting them.


I try seeing into the window. Observation: 12-1=11 . Frank the Fiddler rolled 5 using 3d6. Looking into the window.

Standing with his fellows in an alley on the opposite side of the street, Gaiven silently gives the house a look over before providing an answer.

[Private to GM: Trying to spot any other not-noisy ways to get inside.
Rolled 10 against Observation 11 or Perception 12.]

There are windows on the smaller, second story, but the bottom floor window has two benefits: it's open slightly and is under the cover of the adjacent one-story building. Even if there were someone watching, it would be difficult to see someone climbing through it.

"We are going to need a hot bath after this." Iridia added to Frank's comment, "I wouldn't know, this is my first time trying to break into an upper district house. But, with the loot thats in there, I am willing to bet that there is bound to be a couple of guards inside, or that it's inside a safebox. In both cases, the front door is a bad idea."

Iridia looked at the house for a minute, pondering the group's options.

"Hey Frank, can you lift me up to one of the second floor windows? I want to have a peek." Iridia finally suggested.

(If he accepts, then I roll a 3d6 got a 7. Observation skill is 10. Rolled a 3d6, got 10. Climbing is 11)
This message was last edited by the player at 07:13, Sun 21 Sept 2008.

With some work, Iridia is able to get into position to see over the sill of the top-floor window. It's pitch black inside; the only illumination is from the intermittent flashes of lightning. It appears to be one large room, but what -- or who -- is inside, Iridia can't tell.

Iridia looked back down at Frank, "Its too dark inside, but I don't hear anything, I think its empty. What do you think?" she whispered.

Gaiven points to the ground, and makes an OK sign[Private to Frank the Fiddler; Iridia Silvermane; Pema: Down's fine].

He doesn't complain about the weather. Then again, he never does.

(So I take it I didn't see anything noteworthy through the lower window.)
"Ok, lets go."
Frank the Fiddler rolled 13 using 3d6. Stealth, open window. 14-13=1 Made it!
"Damn creaky old houses. Dey always make the simplest entry hard."
Frank the Fiddler rolled 8 using 3d6. Stealth, Climb in. 14-8=6 Success.
Frank takes a look around the room.
Frank the Fiddler rolled 7 using 3d6. Observation, Looking around room. 11-7=4 Success.
If all is clear, I'll beckon my teammates, and start looking for loot.

Gaiven waits in the shadows for Frank's all clear signal.

Iridia drops down beside Gaiven, and awaits Frank's signal. She thought about entering through the upper window but dropped the idea because it maybe too noisy.

Frank looks around, his eyes straining against the darkness, ears struggling against the wind and rain. One thing that doesn't have to strain to make a detection is his nose; the air is thick with the potpourri of herbs and spices.

The first thing Frank notices are the glowing red embers of a dying fire in a brick fireplace against the west wall, the wall from which Frank entered. When his eyes adjust, Frank sees a heavy iron pot sitting in the coals. It smells like a hearty stew is brewing inside.

Again, lightning flashes, illuminating the room for an instant. Frank's larcenous eyes catch a glint on an ornate candleholder on the table near the fireplace. Otherwise, the room -- no doubt used as a kitchen -- has a number of cabinets and shelves.

There is a single door in the north-east corner of the room.

Once Frank gives the "all clear," Gaiven and then Iridia follows. Though Gaiven's accent into the house is silent, Iridia bumps the wooden prop holding the window up. It clatters to the floor, but thankfully the window is swollen enough in its frame that it doesn't come slamming down...

...Yet.

---

_{OOC: 10:18, Today: Stripe rolled 12 using 3d6. Gaiven's Stealth.
10:18, Today: Stripe rolled 15 using 3d6. Iridia's Stealth.}
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:30, Sun 21 Sept 2008.

Gaiven winches as the prop clatters to the floor. Standing as he was in a position to help Iridia inside, he is also in position to quickly reach out and grab the window. Catching Iridia's attention, he nods towards the prop on the floor.

[Private to GM: Also keeping an ear out for any noises in the house.
Rolled 12 against Hearing 16.]

Iridia realizes what she had done a little too late. Fortunately, Gaiven was there to save the day. She nodded back at Gaiven, and then picked up the prop and placed it back firmly.

"Thanks, handsome." Iridia whispered to Gaiven.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:12, Sun 21 Sept 2008.

Gaiven simply nods and smiles, then moves towards the door. Reaching it, he closes his eyes, as he lays his ear against the crack between door and frame.

[Private to GM: Rolled 15 against Hearing 16.]

Gaiven might be mute, but he's far from deaf. His keen ears detect the faintest stirring from beyond the door... but it's difficult to make out. Someone tossing in bed perhaps? Maybe getting out of bed? Putting on a house coat? Maybe it could have been the wind through an open window, blowing cutains.

Not only is the rustling faint, it's also brief. Gaiven hears nothing a few seconds later.

Looking over his shoulder to ensure that his companions are still with him, he slowly opens the door. First a sliver of a crack to look out, then expanding the crack a bit for a wider view.

Frank snags the Candleholder.
"Frank did it, wid da chandelier, in da kitchen. Heh. It's so dark in here. Yous gois dink it safe to light it?"

What is the weight of the Candleholder and does it currently contain any candles?

The candleholder weighs about three pounds and the white beeswax candle weighs about a pound. It's thick, but has burned down quite a bit, the hot wax dripping down its holder's silver stem and hardening again. Frank supposes the old gargoyle might cough up three or four silver pieces for it if he's lucky. However, there's no way it will fit in his belt pouch...

Using the intermittent lightning, Gaiven sees a sitting room filed with plush, antique furniture to his left. Large portraits of stern looking men hang upon the wall. They seem to glare down at Gaiven with accusatory eyes.

To his right, a stairway leads up into the shadows, then turns after a landing. A small white statuette stands on the polished banister's end post.

To the south, a large open threshold reveals a cavernous, two story great hall. It is filled with extravagant furniture, large marble statues and other works of art. A set of giant double doors on the south wall leads out to the street.

---

^{OOC: 13:57, Today: Stripe rolled 9 using 3d6. Frank's Merchant roll.}

"Hmmmm, I wonde if dis goi has any silvehweah?"
Frank starts looking for other loot in the kitchen.

How much does the statuette weigh, and how much can I get for it?
Frank the Fiddler rolled 11 using 3d6. Merchant roll for statuette. Merchant skill 11. Oooo, just made it.
Frank the Fiddler rolled 5 using 3d6. Stealth for search. Stealth=14 success.
Frank the Fiddler rolled 12 using 3d6. Observation for search. Observation=11 looks like I  missed something.
Frank the Fiddler rolled 11 using 3d6. Merchant roll for found loot. !!!!
This message was last edited by the player at 21:47, Sun 21 Sept 2008.

Frank searches the kitchen, but finds little of value except for herbs, spices, pots and pans. Any of this stuff can be taken and sold, but their value will vary widely.

---

^{OOC: The statuette is neither within Frank's reach, nor in his sight.}

Gaiven frowns when he sees Frank messing through the kitchen, but uses the time that it takes Frank to complete his search, to pull of his own shoes, and ties them tightly to his belt, give them a few tugs to ensure that they won't flop around noisily.

Deed done he slips quietly into the corridor on toe-socks. Pressing up against a shadowy patch of wall next to the door, he once again extends his ears.

[Private to GM:
11 against Stealth 14
13 against Hearing 16]

...And hears nothing besides wind and rain.

While Gaiven was scouting ahead, Iridia panned the kitchen. Nothing caught her attention but Frank playing around. She approached him and whispered to him, "We are here for the Dragon's Tooth, Frank. I doubt any of this is worth a sweat. We should focus on our goal and keep words to a minimum, shall we?"

And with that, Iridia left behind Gaiven. She took extra care not to foolishly knock over anything else this time.

Iridia observes the first story of the great hall, half expecting to find the Dragon's Tooth displayed there.

---------

[Private to Stripe: Iridia rolled 7 with a 3d6. Successful Stealth.
Iridia rolled 8 with a 3d6. Successful Observation.]
This message was last edited by the player at 12:19, Mon 22 Sept 2008.

The great hall seems more like a museum than a residence. Artwork, tapestries, and statues line the walls. The crystal chandelier high above must be a magnificent sight when lit. Immediately in front of Iridia is a large antique sofa with three giant pillows tasseled and bordered by long fringe. Gliding her hand across them reveal they are made of silk. Near the sofa is a few hookahs and a small glass-topped table with a porcelain tea service.

As Iridia enters the pitch-black room using the thunderstorm's almost constant lightning, she sees how impossible it will be to navigate this maze if the storm were to die down. Currently, for every few seconds of utter darkness, there are one or two seconds of bright flashes.

"Sssh, yous de one doin all de talking."
Frank is getting frustrated. He'd expected a rich merchant to own more valuables. Apparently the new ruler was bad news for more people than the criminal population.
Moving into the living room, on the north-west side of the house, Frank peaks around the corner, into the northern corridor.

[Private to Stripe: Rolls:
Skill: Stealth, 14 Frank the Fiddler rolled 9 using 3d6. Stealth.
Skill: Observation, 11 Frank the Fiddler rolled 10 using 3d6. for pearing into the darkness.]

Gaiven keeps an eye on the stairs, while his companions spread out. The paintings on the wall is giving him an itch between his shoulder blades, but after one glance over his shoulder, he does his best to ignore them.

Whether it's because of pure intuition or because Iridia didn't want to break anything in the display hall could be a matter of speculation. But the result would be the same; Iridia turned around and went back to the stairs.

She shook her head, nothing that there is nothing where she had searched. And then nudged a questioning face towards the stairs.

Lightning reveals another piece of the puzzle as Frank glides along the north wall of the great hall: a solid oak door. Placing an ear near the hinges, Frank listens for sound behind it. Just as Iridia crosses behind him back toward the stairs, Frank hears a snort and the rustle of bed covers.

Someone in the next room is sleeping uneasily.

Frank warns Gaiven and Iridia off the sleeper with whatever sign language he can manage. Then he takes out his Lockpicks, and feels for a keyhole. After a moment of doupt, he picks the lock.

[Private to GM: Rolls:
Skill: Stealth, base 14 Frank the Fiddler rolled 18 using 3d6. Frank is stealthy. Then again maybe not. I donno if this was required for lockpicking, but if it wasn't, let's pretend it never happened.
Skill: Lockpicking, base 12 Frank the Fiddler rolled 10 using 3d6. Frank picks a lock.]

When Frank pulls out his lockpicks, Gaiven grabs his arm. Making sure he has his companion's attention, he taps the back of his hand twice, then holds up five fingers and pulls his pinky[Private to Frank the Fiddler; Iridia Silvermane: Wait. Last.].

Iridia nods even though she wasn't exactly sure what Gaiven meant, or what his reasoning was. It did seem sound to Iridia because so far, Frank has been a tad bit foolhardy, and anything to slow his momentum is not a bad idea.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:09, Mon 22 Sept 2008.

Frank shrugs is arm from Gaiven. "Well what if de darn ding is in dere wid him, huh? Besides, he is sound asleep. Still, he understand the the advice. There is no need to take the risk of waking him up before they had searched the rest of the house. The thought of locking the man in his own room crossed his mind, but if the stone really was in there, it would just make things even more difficult. Leaving the door be, he moves out from the great hall and into the den, and peeks around the corner he'd missed on his way in.

[Private to GM: Rolls:
Skill Stealth, base 14: Frank the Fiddler rolled 13 using 3d6. Sneaking to the den.
Skill Observation, base 11: Frank the Fiddler rolled 5 using 3d6. Looking around the den.]

This must be where 'ol Julian keeps his wares. Frank sees shelves and shelves of jarred goods here in the intermittent flashes of lighting.

Iridia looks over Frank's shoulders at the store. "You know, maybe they have some rare spices here, its worth a look." She whispered, "I am heading upstairs anyway." She made sure to announce this to Gaiven by pointing to the stairs as she passed by him.

"Fricking Bingo!"
Frank is a little pressed to contain is excitement. He puts down the Candleholder, give the gang a 'Let there be light' and makes an attempt to fire it up.

[Private to GM: I've got 'personnel basics' which should include some flint for this.]
This message was last edited by the player at 12:12, Tue 23 Sept 2008.

Gaiven nods, gives Frank the thumbs up, and follows Iridia up the stairs.

Sock-clad feet stepping at the other edge of the stairs to avoid squicking, he continues to keep an ear out for other people.

[Private to GM:
Rolled 6 against Hearing 16.
Rolled 8 against Stealth 14.]

Iridia and Gaiven quickly figure out that the stairs are too dark to see the top. So far, they've used the flashes of lightning to guide their steps, and had to pause during the intermissions between strikes. In the inner stairwell, there are no windows.

Downstairs, Frank pulls out a piece of flint and a match. He strikes it lit and holds it to the candle. The soft, flickering glow illuminates the room like a western sunset. Frank picks up the silver candle holder and cups the dancing flame with his other hand.

Most of the herbs and spices are of the common variety and used for cooking or potpourri. Many are used for medicinal purposes. Frank can't seem to remember which ones carry steep price tags at the apothecary, and isn't really too sure which ones are considered rare or particularly valuable. Some of the jars are unlabeled and made of opaque pottery.

---

^{OOC: Stripe rolled 12 using 3d6. Frank's Merchant roll.}

Gaiven scratches his chin, and then motions for Iridia to stay where she is. Padding down into the sitting room, he looks for a candle or even better; two.

He finds a a couple candel holders much like Frank's.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:06, Tue 23 Sept 2008.

Sneaking up on Frank, Gaiven wordlessly lights the candles on Frank's and then carries them back to Iridia.

Handing her one candle, he then holds up one finger, followed by two fingers held down and moved as a man walking. He then points upstairs.[Private to Iridia Silvermane: One person upstairs.] He then waits, apparently for some indication that she has understood.

Iridia waited patiently for Gaiven to come back. When he came, her face brightened up with the sight of the lit candles. She gave Gaiven a big smile and a thumbs up as he gave her one of the candles.

She nodded, telling Gaiven that she understood what he meant. She pointed at herself, then upwards, indicating that she will go up. She then pointed at Gaiven and then at the display/living room, "Try looking there with the candles." Iridia whispered and then moved up the stairs, placing her steps wisely at the edge of the boards to not produce any unwanted noises. When Iridia reached the top of the stairs, she observes her surroundings.

Frank rummages through the jars and shelves. Surely he must have something of extraordinary value, or at least something that looks enough like it to fool that greedy gargoyle.

[Private to GM: Rolls
Skill Stealth, base 14: Frank the Fiddler rolled 7 using 3d6. Rummaging in silence.
Skill Merchant, base 11: Frank the Fiddler rolled 13 using 3d6. Appraisal of goods. I just have rotten luck finding valuables.]

Outside, thunder rolls as sheets of rain shower against the roof and windows.

[Private to Iridia Silvermane: Creeping slowly up the stairs, dancing candle light throwing shadows across the steps, Iridia sees a closed door at the top.]

[Private to Frank the Fiddler: Frank supposes there are about 20 jars that could be worth some money. However, there are about five unlabeled jars. He will have to go through them one by one to determine what's inside, a process that will take about 30 seconds apiece to do quietly.]

"Black Peppeh, Basilica, Paphika Powdeh, Basilisk's Floweh... Where is all the good stuff?"
Frank is looking though the jars, one by one. What is to become of the world when a thief can even find decent loot in a merchant's house.

[Private to GM: I will look into the unlabeled jars. How much do the (other) jars weigh, and can any of them fit in the pouch?
]
This message was last edited by the player at 18:14, Fri 26 Sept 2008.

^{OOC: Private to Frank:}

[Private to Frank the Fiddler: The jars' weight ranges from a pound to a few pounds. Some are large and bulky; others are smaller, able to be shoved into his small belt pouch. Only two will fit in there at a time, however. Too bad Frank didn't bring a sack.

Frank removes the lid to the first ceramic jar and stands on tip-toes to peer over its lip. The aroma is strong and burns his nose... Cyanne Pepper. Small amounts of the powder sell for little, but this much might fetch five silver pieces or so. The jar is too large to fit in his pouch, but he could pour the entire amount in there if he wishes.

---

^{OOC:Try the next jar? Contain your entire reply in Private Line in this thread, please.}]

Gaiven hesitates, then nodes and proceeds into the great hall to take a closer look at things. As he pads around, he looks doubtfully at the paintings and statues. Too heavy for a quick escape. Coins, jewelry and custom ordered goods like the tooth is more his style.

[Private to GM: Trying to find light-weight and valuable stuff.
7 against Merchant 11]

^{OOC: Private to Gaiven:}

[Private to Gaiven the Dumb: Both small and valuable -- that's what every burglar wants to find. However, Gaiven doesn't have even so much as a belt pouch, so whatever he finds is going to have to fit in his ragety trouser pockets.

Using the flickering candle, Gaiven searches the massive great hall, shadows dancing all around. The man is rich, that's for certain.

Hmm... Here's something. Six pure silver, highly decorated disks are stacked on a table. The table is surrounded by plush furniture topped by large, silk pillows. Being raised in poverty, the street urchin doesn't immediately realize what the disks are. But, his quick mind quickly surmises that they are used to save the beautiful wooden table from a cold drink's moisture. They should fetch two or three silver apiece and they'll fit in Gaiven's pocket.

On that same table, Gaiven lifts the lid to a wooden box and finds four cigars. The box is too large to pocket, but the smokes will fit. However, they will be fragile; Gaiven could easily wind up with a pocket of tobacco and torn leaves -- not to mention what will happen to them in the rain. But, knowing how rich fatso is, these cigars might sell for two to four silver apiece at a store.

---

^{OOC: Contain your entire reply in Private Line in this thread, please.}]

Private to GM

[Private to GM: Oh ye of little faith. I don't have to be limited to what is in my pockets. Did I notice any sacks in the kitchen? You know, large flour or potato sacks, or something. Otherwise I'll be looking (quietly) through drawers for tablecloth or bed linen.]
This message was last edited by the player at 19:18, Wed 24 Sept 2008.

Once at the top of the stairs, Iridia checks her left and right, then kneeled before the door at the end of the staircase. She held her breath and placed her ear against the door.

OOC: Private to Gaiven, Iridia:

[Private to Gaiven the Dumb: Frank noticed both in the kitchen. Full.]

[Private to Iridia Silvermane: Iridia hears loud snoring.

---

^{OOC: Stripe rolled 12 using 3d6. Iridia's Hearing. Please contain your entire reply in private line in this thread.}]

Private to gm.

[Private to GM: Iridia wrinkled her nose when she heard the snoring on the other side. She figured it would be better to come back later, so she looked around for alternative routes.]

Frank sniffles. "Oo sthong stuff."

[Private to GM: That's one jar, next one.]
This message was last edited by the player at 18:14, Fri 26 Sept 2008.

^{OOC: Private Line to Frank:}

[Private to Frank the Fiddler: Inside is a small, purple cloth bag tied with gold-colored rope. It has that lovely jingle and weight when Frank plucks it out. It's too small to contain a fortune unless there's jewels inside, but when frank unties and opens it up t let it spill into his palm, he finds it does hold two gold coins and seven silver pieces.

Next?]

PM

[Private to GM: Cha-ching!
Next jar!]

PM

[Private to GM: Stacking the cigar box atop the silver disks, Gaiven carries them back to the kitchen, and quietly empties the sacks on the floor. The disks and cigar box goes into one sack, the other he takes with him, as he leaves the kitchen to take a look at what valuables might be found in the sitting room.]

^{OOC: Private Lines:}

[Private to Frank the Fiddler: Inside this jar is a white ointment. Frank isn't sure what it is.]

[Private to Iridia Silvermane: The door is at the head of the stairs. There is no other way.]

[Private to Gaiven the Dumb: Gaiven finds a number of odds and ends that are sure to be an easy turn-around at the fence.

OOC: Roll Merchant. Multiply your success (rolling your skill would be '1') by 10 and add 10. This is how many silver pieces worth of odds and ends you can fit in each of your sacks. However, they will be full and bulky and weigh 1dx10 pounds apiece.]

"<sniff-sniff>ew."

[Private to GM: I'll leave that here for now, next jar.]

PM

[Private to GM: What do I get for 1 over skill?]

^{OOC: Private lines:}

[Private to Frank the Fiddler: Frank opens the last jar and peaks over the lip. Suddenly, a hissing snake flings itself out of the jar straight at Frank's face, fangs barred. It's all the burglar can do to keep from crying out in surprise, and somehow he manages to keep hold of the fragile lid as well. He stumbles back to avoid the strike, but quickly regains his composure. Using the candle, he searches the ground for the snake but finds nothing; apparently, it slithered back under the shelves in the darkness.

---

^{OOC: Contain the entire reply in private line this thread. I don't want anyone knowing if you're safe or anything. You could be dead for all they know. Secret Roll: Stripe rolled 10 using 3d6. Frank's Will to avoid crying out.}]

[Private to Gaiven the Dumb: OOC: Count it as one as well. I meant, don't count zero as zero. ;) A total of 20 sp was found if you fill both bags. Roll for weight and hope for a low roll!]

Private to GM

[Private to GM: With a deep sigh, Iridia pulled the door to her side, and turned the knob, avoiding as much noise as possible. When the door was just a few degrees open, Iridia put her hand infront of the candle so no direct light will hit whoever is sleeping in there, and enter silently, carefully observing the room.

----------

Iridia Silvermane rolled 10 using 3d6. Stealth.
Iridia Silvermane rolled 12 using 3d6. Observation.
(Can I roll again if I can't see anything worthwhile in the room? after all, the diamond could be hidden or inobvious.)]

Frank stumbles around and is breathing heavily. "Holy Crap! Gaiven! There's a snake slithering around here!"
He's done here, and Frank picks up his candle and follows Iridia up the stairs.

[Private to GM: I'll take the most valuable jar of spice I can fit in the pouch. With jar, btw. And the coin's, of course.
Rolls:
Frank the Fiddler rolled 11 using 3d6. Stealth, against 14.]

Gaiven looks wordlessly in Frank's direction, a handful of valuable looking cutlery halfway down his sack. Then he quickly surveys the floor. Snakes is not his kind of fun.

[Private to GM: I'll just finish up quickly, while keeping out an eye for the supposed snake.]

"No, ya twih, it's crawled out of sigh. Jus keep your senses shahp. Hey, can I get in on de silverware? All I got is a jah of smelly junk."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:15, Fri 26 Sept 2008.

^{OOC: Private line to Iridia:}

[Private to Iridia Silvermane: This must be the master bedroom, and it's by far the most luxurious room of the house. Embers smolder in a fireplace on one wall. Artwork and statues adorn the room. An enormous canopy bed takes center stage, and a large bulge under the covers heaves in and out in tandem with the loud snoring.

Iridia takes her time, looking around for anything that might hold the diamond, or for anything else she might want to filch while she's here. However, she freezes in her tracks when the fat man suddenly starts to cough, groan and mutter. In a few seconds, he's back to snoring again.

Iridia resumes her stealthy search, her eye caught immediately by a large silver box on a beautiful dressing table. In the flickering candle light, Iridia sees her shadowed face in the mirror as she approaches and carefully lifts the lid to peek inside... Mother load. It's spectacular! Sparkling red rubies, glittering diamonds, gleaming rings and ornate chains... it's a stunning collection worth thousands and thousands of gold pieces. The Dragon's Tooth pales in comparison to this find. There are enough gold necklaces and rings in here to fill her pockets.

---

^{OOC: I'm telling you as the GM, you can stuff your trousers before they get upstairs. However, after that, they'll be free to come up.}]

Private to GM

[Private to GM: With each time the man coughed, Iridia's eyes twitched in anticipation of the man waking up. When she was finally satisfied that he didn't, she wrinkled her nose in disgust.

'Disgusting.' She remarked in her mind.

As she scanned the room looking for the Dragon's Tooth, Iridia spotted the silver box. As she approached it, Iridia admired her own reflection in the dresser's mirror. She took a moment to take a few poses, blinking her eyes slyly. She even tried to imagine herself in expensive garments, ones worthy of princesses. Alas, that thought brought sadness into her heart, making Iridia quit staring at the mirror, bringing her back to the situation at hand.

Iridia slowly opened the silver box, inside, she could see all the jewelry.

'Ah... I must have hit the mark!' Iridia was elated once more, 'or a trap! Oh yes, I know you fat merchants, always placing those nasty traps and protective charms on your precious diamonds. A foolish theif would fall for them. But no! Not me! Iridia Silvermane, the master thief, shall not fall for it! haha!'

Iridia was about to painfully leave the box alone, and go back to look for the Dragon's Tooth, but greed won the best of her in the end, 'And she won't leave empty handed too! I won't be too greedy though, or else I will end up like those greedy thieves who encumber themselves with loot. Yes, yes, yes, I am a good girl after all.'

Iridia opened the box wide, and took two necklaces, placing one in each pocket. And then took what diamonds she could find and placed them carefully under her breast holder. It tickled, but Iridia held the chuckle inside.]

Watching Gaiven place the last of the silverware into his bags, Frank knows the hall is effectively empty. He goes up the stairs, in hopes of finding something of values up there.

[Private to GM: Rolls:
None, there is a stealth roll for this in post #63 and I've come to realize that observation and Merchant should be secret rolls done by you (or I would know whether or not something really was there based on your answer).
Steath: 14
Observation: 11
Merchant: 11]

Coming back from having stashed the sacks in the kitchen, Gaiven still regards the floor nervously, then pads stealthily up the stairs. Hopefully snakes don't know how to climb stairs.

[Private to GM: What is Iridia doing when we arrive?]

This must be the master bedroom, and it's by far the most luxurious room of the house. Embers smolder in a fireplace on one wall. Artwork and statues adorn the room. An enormous canopy bed takes center stage, and a large bulge under the covers heaves in and out in tandem with the loud snoring.

Iridia is hiding in the shadows near a beautiful dressing table, looking around the room when Frank and Gaiven arrive.

Gaiven looks around the room, and then at Iridia. Raising his shoulders, he gives an exaggerated shrug with a questioning look on his face.

When the two men appeared through the door, Iridia was slightly startled. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Iridia pointed at her canine and then shook her head. She then pointed at the two men, and gestured for them to come over.

Padding silently across the floor on his stockings, Gaiven moves over to Iridia.

Frank sneaks over, taking his time to look for any other objects of value in the room. When he Gaiven and he arrive across the room, he repeats Gaiven's shrug.

[Private to GM: Rolls:
Frank the Fiddler rolled 10 using 3d6. Stealth, against 14.
Observation, 11, secret roll by GM.
Merchant, 11, secret roll by GM.]

A wide grin was painted on Iridia's face, she acted very excited about what she had just found. Iridia presented the large silver box, and then opened it, revealing a collection of gold jewelry and precious stones worth hundreds of gold pieces, certainly much more than the Dragon's Tooth.

-----

[Private to GM: Iridia Silvermane rolled 11 using 3d6+2. Acting. ]
This message was last edited by the player at 22:01, Sat 27 Sept 2008.

The fat man continues to snore.

[Private to Frank the Fiddler: Your visual search revealed some valuable items that can be taken, but your eye is immediately drawn to the large silver box on the dressing table. It looks like it could be a real treasure chest.

If you want to seach now, using those rolls, you may do so, but this room is large and will take some considerable time to go through, especially in the darkness.]

Frank is amazed at both the sear fortune, but all the more so at Iridia's willingness to share such a bounty! It's almost to good to be true...

[Private to GM: I will deal with Iridia and her chest (treasure chest!) first, then when there is time, I'll look around the room.]

Gaiven grins as well from ear to ear, giving her two thumbs up.

Then the grin dies down, and with a questioning expression on his face he makes a broad sweeping motion with his arm, taking in the whole room.

Suddenly, the fat man under the covers caughs and wheezes, then clears his throat...

Iridia shrugs at Gaiven, indicating that there is probably nothing else worth investigating. With this box, they don't need the Dragon's Tooth anymore.

Then, as suddenly as the man cleared his throat, Iridia drew her knife and moved a few steps closer to the bed. She gestured to Gaiven and Frank to move the box downstairs. If the man made any other indication that he will rise, Iridia will immediately jump on the bed and straddle the man, covering his face with a sheet or a pillow, and threaten his neck with her knife.

Gaiven quickly hands the box on over to Frank, and follows closely behind Iridia, though he does not draw a knife.

All to happy to hold on to the box, Frank stays back from the commotion, and starts looking for good escape routes, just in case his partners botch up.


[Private to GM: Rolls:
Observation: 11, secret roll GM
Also I would like to sneak a small amount of the contents from the box into my own pouch, so we don't share the whole of it evenly. I'd say this would be a filch: 13 with some sort of massive bonus because Gaiven and Iridia aren't even looking.
Filch: 13, Secret Roll: Frank the Fiddler rolled 9 using 3d6. Filch.]

Frank backs away. The fat man doesn't stir.

[Private to Frank the Fiddler:

---

^{OOC: You don't even need to roll as you'll be out of sight of both of them. The stuff inside the box is wondrous. If you fill your pouch, it will be noticeable. But there is a amethyst broach with pearls surrounding it that must be worth 30 gp.}]
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:57, Sun 28 Sept 2008.

Gaiven gives a silent sigh of relief.

Taking a quick look around the room for anything that Iridia might have missed, he scratches his chin in thought. Then he carefully approaches the bed, and tries to look under it.

Though the bed is large, it's also rather low to the floor and the huge bulge on top sags down below as well. However, through the candle-lit shadows, Gaiven sees something of interest pushed back from the edge. A small, steel lockbox. Gaiven gathers his courage and stoops down to inspect it, his face only inches from the sleeping giant's bed. The padlock that runs through the heavy latch is also connected to a chain. Gaiven follows the chain to a metal loop around the leg of the far post at the head of the bed. All three burglars combined couldn't lift the bed with the fat man on it, let alone while he sleeps.

"oh crap, dat was waaayyy to close...
So? Anything?"
[Private to GM: I wasn't planning on leaving before we got the tooth, but I will take the broach, and no more. No point in being greedy if you get caught.]
This message was last edited by the player at 20:03, Sun 28 Sept 2008.

Gaiven stands up again, then looking at Frank, places a finger to his lips, and points down the stairs.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:15, Sun 28 Sept 2008.

Frank is a bit confounded by Gaiven's sign's, but decides to follow up on them anyway. He skulks down the stairs and goes to the door in the hall. Taking out his lockpicks, he looks for keyhole and locks the door from the outside. Then he comes back up again, not wanting to miss the big moment.

[Private to GM: Rolls:
Frank the Fiddler rolled 6 using 3d6. against stealth: 14.
Today: Frank the Fiddler rolled 9 using 3d6. Against lockpicking: 12.
If there is no keyhole, I'll just barricade the door with a chair or something.]
This message was last edited by the player at 23:30, Sun 28 Sept 2008.

Watching Frank going down the stairs, Gaiven then moves to the other side of the bed, and crouches. Catching Iridia's attention, he points at his eyes, and then at the sleeping man in the bed.

Iridia did not know for sure what Gaiven saw, or what Frank meant, as she was focused on the sleeping man the entire time. She was startled by Frank speaking, and leered him.

When Frank went down, Iridia closed her eyes and shaked her head in disapproval of Frank's behavior. Then when Gaiven gestured to her to keep here eyes on the man, she nodded, as she was doing just that.

With a smile to Iridia, Gaiven descends all the way to his stomach, and reaches in under the bed.

[Private to GM: I imagine the bed is too low for me to crawl in under. So, if I can actually reach the box, I'll try to lift it out from under the bed. If not, I'll try to cautiously pull it out, using the chain. Make as little sound as possible, and stop whenever the man gives sound.]

Carefully, slowly, Gaiven drags the box out from under the bed. The chain only lets it slide an inch from the bed, just far enough that its lid can be open.

---

^{OOC: 19:17, Today: Stripe rolled 9 using 3d6. Gaiven's stealth.}

Gaiven takes a deep breath of relief, and then with a glance towards Iridia to make sure everything is still in order, pulls out his lockpicks and goes to work on the lock. Quietly.

[Private to Stripe:
rolled 4 against stealth 14
rolled 9 against lockpicking 12]

Though quiet, Gaiven can't get the lock picked after a minute of trying. Frank slipped in quietly while Gaiven worked at the lock. Sweat trickles down the mute's brow as he works in the dim, flickering light. Still, the burglar keeps at it until...

...click! The padlock releases its arch. With excruciating care, Gaiven opens it and then slides the chain off so the box can be open or taken.

Gaiven slowly lifts the lid open.

Surprise might have made Gaiven let out some kind of a shriek if only he weren't a mute. The instant Gaiven opens the box, it bursts into hot flame with a roar! The would-be thief gasps and falls back to keep from getting burned by the sudden and unexpected explosion. Just as quickly as the flames shot up two feet higher than the bed, they quickly die down leaving a burning box on the floor. Any second, the fire could turn into an inferno, burning the whole house if not the whole neighborhood to a cinder.

But, in this instant, Gaiven, Iridia and Frank don't have time to think that far into the future! Startled, the fat man shoots up in bed, eyes wide with shock and fright!

"Wha-wha-what's going on?!" he stammers, sleep still grasping the higher functions of his mind.

"What the!" Iridia yelped, startled by two things happening at the same time; the box bursting in flames, and the man waking up. She took one second to take it all in then took one of the bed sheet's corners and threw it off the man in the direction of Gaiven. Then she jumped on the bed and tackled the man, straddling him, forcing him back into bed. She quickly took a nearby pillow an put it on his face, and placed a knife on his throat.

"You scream, you move, you die!" Iridia spoke in a harsh voice, and made sure the man could feel the cold steel of her knife on his neck.

------------

[Private to GM: 13:54, Today: Iridia Silvermane rolled 8 using 3d6. Intimidation.]
This message was last edited by the player at 09:57, Mon 29 Sept 2008.

Muffled under the pillow, the fat man's sobs of submission are barely audible, but it sounds like he might be pleading for his life. He throws his hands up and to his side in shaking motions of surrender.

The box remains on fire, but doesn't seem to be spreading as it is made of steel. If any of those flames hit the bed, though, it's going to be hell. But, the box won't pull out any farther.

"A wise choice." Iridia told the man in her normal voice. She held the pillow over the man's head not as hard as to suffocate him, but just enough so he can't see them and to muffle his voice. Iridia then looks around the bed for anything that might be used to extinguish the fire, like a vase or a jug of water. She knows that she never goes to sleep without a glass of water beside her, so why shouldn't a wealthy merchant?
This message was last edited by the player at 10:42, Mon 29 Sept 2008.

Not only does the merchant have a glass of water, there is a pitcher of it on a table beside the bed. No doubt it's for both drinking and the bedpan.

However, something most peculiar happens when it's poured on the fire... It doesn't go out, or even flicker.

By now, the fire isn't the three burglar's main concern. Heavy footfalls boom on the staircase; someone's running up!

"Shit, din I lock dat bastahd in!
Frank pulls out his knife, but drops it! Deciding he doesn't have the time to look for it, he stands in front of the door, ready to kick it into the face of whomever is storming the stairs.

[Private to GM: Rolls: Frank the Fiddler rolled 15 using 3d6. Against Fast Draw: 13.]
This message was last edited by the player at 11:28, Mon 29 Sept 2008.

Gaiven stumbles back when the box roars into flames, desperately padding himself to make sure he isn't on fire. However, once the first panic reaction wears off, he rushes for the bedstand, grabbing the pitcher of water. On the outside, he might still be as impassive and quiet as always, but on the inside a litany of curses is running through his mind.

Even more so, when the water fails to work, and the sound of footsteps is heard. Being unable to talk, however, makes Gaiven unable to really do anything about the inhabitants of the house, unless things descent into outright fighting. Instead he quickly looks around, grabs a candle stick[Private to GM: or fire poker or cane or whatever long thing I can find] and tries to get the lid on the box closed again.

Fleet-of-foot Gaiven runs to the fireplace, grabs the poker, the closes the lid. Suddenly, the room goes pitch black again and everyone's eyes gasp for light as they try to adjust to the darkness.

From the stairwell is the glow of a swinging lantern and the booms of a heavy man running up the steps. In the next second or two, whoever it is will emerge into Frank's view.


[Private to Gaiven the Dumb: OOC: Treat your fire poker as an improvised small mace (sw cr +2) if you want to use it as a weapon.]

Frank sees the lantern and panics! If dat ding bheaks, we might as well have buined ourselfs wid de box!
Seeing Gaiven close the box with the perfect tool for smashing in a skull, without sending it tumbling down the stairs, Frank snatches the poker and hides next to the door, the iron rod held high above his head.

Gaiven is still blinking against the returned darkness, when Frank grab the poker from his fingers. For a moment he almost resists the shadow, but then he realizes that it gotta be one of his companions, what with the only other person in the room being the fat merchant, and let's go.

He's not quite sure what Frank is gonna do with the poker, but he knows that something has to be done about the man on the stairs. Bending to one knee, he hesitantly reaches out to try and lift the box, half afraid that it'll be blistering hot, half aware that he needs to move quickly.

[Private to GM: If it is too hot enough to cause burns, I'm not going to sacrifice my hands picking it up]
This message was last edited by the player at 21:32, Mon 29 Sept 2008.

Oh, the box is hot, but not enough to burn Gaiven. He picks it up and glances over his shoulder at the door.

Iridia tightened her grip over the man the closer whoever else is in the house drew to the door. She made sure the merchant could still feel the cold steel of her knife on his neck.

With booming footfalls heralding his arrival, a giant of a man emerges from below like a demon ascending from Hell. Hideous and naked all but for a loincloth, the man ducks under the threshold holding a relatively small lantern in his left hand, a big wooden cudgel in his right. His corpulent belly and powerfully-built chest, arms and shoulders are covered in black hair and dark warts. A jutting brow shadows his deep-set eyes; a poorly mended broken nose and a recently-shaven head complete his ogrish appearance.

If Frank knew what he was getting himself into, he would probably deserve a medal for bravery. Like a knight charging into battle sword swinging above his head, Frank jumps out from behind the door and brings the fire poker down upon his foe. The iron rod comes slamming down on the man's left arm with a thud.

The metal lantern goes crashing to the floor, but manages not to break.

Furious, the giant returns with a vicious back-handed swing, but the heavy wooden skull-splitter misses Frank's nose by an inch when he dodges back.

---

OOC:
Stripe rolled 6 using 3d6. Frank's attack to random location. (Success)
Stripe rolled 10 using 3d6. Bobo's parry. (Fail)
Stripe rolled 12 using 3d6. Random Loc. Table. (Left Arm)
Stripe rolled 4 using 1d6. Damage. (5)
Stripe rolled 8 using 3d6. Bobo's attack to random loc. (Fail)

It is now Gaiven and Iridia's turn, whoever posts first. When they finish, Round 1 will be complete. Bobo is standing in the door, and it would take an Evade manuver (p. 368) to get past him while he stands there.

"Frank!" Iridia shouted, futily trying to warn Frank of the incoming blow. Her shout did little to save Frank from being knocked back.

"Damnit!" Iridia cursed aloud, she had little or no time to act. However, quick thinking is what she was good at. Iridia quickly jumped up, landing her heels straight in the middle of the merchant's belly, hopefully knocking him out or paralyzing him with pain. She then took the bed sheet and threw it like a web on the big ugly guard, "Gaiven! Go!"

Wether that was a signal for Gaiven to attack or run away was not known. It was up to Gaiven to think of what to do. One thing was on Iridia's mind though; If the two men cannot beat the guard, she will be bailing out the window.

-----

OOC: She took the sheets off the merchant a few posts back.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:31, Tue 30 Sept 2008.

Iridia's heels plunge into the huge gullet-mountain, causing the fat merchant to wheeze and shriek. "You little whore!" He manages to cough. "Bobo! Kill them! Kill them!"

Iridia's makeshift net doesn't work a thing like it did in her imagination; it fails miserably to unfurl and glide through the air to land on the giant and wrap him up from the top down. The heavy blanket simply falls to the floor in a heap before the feet of the glaring, snarling ogre-man.

When Gaiven picked up the box, he knew exactly why, but wasn't sure if he'd actually use it. Now, with the large man in view, he knows that he has little choice, but to do so.

Another man might have uttered a warcry, or simply hollered to bolster his own strength. As Gaiven takes three steps towards the merchant's bodyguard, he does so in complete silence. One arm wraps around the box to hold it steady, opening pointed towards the man, the other hand seizes the lid and wrests it open!

[Private to GM: No idea what kinda rolls are needed for this]

Flame shoots out of the lockbox as if it contained burning lantern oil. The hideous behemoth roars and throws his hands up, toppling backwards into the darkness and crashing down the stairs. His enormous weight comes to a thunderous rest on the landing below.

However, fire wasn't the only thing to come flying out of the box. Seemingly unharmed by the intense flames that are still ravaging the box's insides, a black silk pouch slides out and onto the floor when Gaiven first opened its lid.

Gaiven wrestles the lid shut again, and turns to glare at the merchant, box still cradled in his arm.

[Private to GM: Also listening to hear if the man below is trying to get up again.]

He's horrified, of course -- not only of Iridia looming above him with a gleaming knife blade or of Frank standing near the foot of his bed with a wickedly-spiked iron poker, but most especially of Gaiven standing there with a flame-throwing mechanism and an evil light in his eye.

"Take it! Take whatever you want and leave! Just don't hurt me!" the merchant blubbers.

For a full second, Gaiven simply glares at the merchant. Then he bends down to scoop up the silk pouch from the floor.

Maneuvering the magic box into the crook of his arm to get both hands free, he opens the pouch to make sure it truly is the tooth inside.

Inside the silk bag is a small, purple felt-covered box, which Gaiven takes out and carefully opens. Inside, sitting on red, silk covered pillows is a breathtaking, majestic diamond that can be none other than the Dragon's Tooth.

"No! You fools wouldn't dare take that! You'll be good as dead if you do! Its owner will put a price on all your heads so high, every bounty hunter in the empire will come down on you!

"Fools! You'll doom us all!"

Gaiven looks for a second at the merchant, then closes the box and puts it back into the silk bag.

Looking at his two companions, he makes a throw of his head towards the stairs, while he turns towards the merchant and once again juggles the magic box so that it can be used offensively. The precious silk bag dangling from his left hand.

"You weak-minded buffoon!" The fat merchant yells so hard the veins in his forehead and neck practically burst through his skin. "The fire isn't even real! They're phantom flames! Illusionary!

"How much did they offer you? A thousand gold pieces? Three thousand? I wouldn't let you breath on that diamond for five thousand gold pieces!

"But, it's just a sparkling rock to a street urchin like you -- one with worth measured in riches. To a sorcerer, it is a treasure beyond your feeble comprehension. To a wizard, such a flawless powerstone is priceless!

"Lay it down, thief, and be off with you! I shall forget I ever saw your face! Bobo! If you are alive and conscious, let them go I say! Let them go unharmed!"

The merchant's voice goes low as he looks deep into Gaiven's eyes. "All you must do is set it down and walk away. Take your loot and run...

"...Or... You'll never live to spend it."

Frank wasn't really listening to the merchant's rambling. He was still amazed by the sheer hugeness of bobo, and the fact he hit him. If that guy came back up the stairs again... Frank grabs the small chest of jewelery and gems, walking to the window and speaks to Gaiven. "I say take the lot, but whateve you're gonna do, bedde do it fast, I'm not sticking around for Bobo."

"Shut up, you pig! How dare you insult a lady?!" Iridia scolds the merchant and kicks his side. She was furious at him calling her a whore. If only he knew who she once was.

"Hey, nice thinking, Gee." Iridia threw a thumb up for Gaiven. She did not use his real name so the merchant wouldn't know them. Iridia had to admit she thought he wasn't so bright when she first met him. But with how he just beat Bobo and found the Dragon's Tooth, Gaiven just earned cool points with her, and depending upon his personal tastes, that maybe a good thing or a bad thing.

"I said shut up!" Iridia kicked the mercant again on his side. She didn't have patience for him. Although what he said about the Dragon's tooth being worth thousands of gold instead of the thirty gold they were offered sounded interesting. If what he said was true, then they have been tricked. "We better get out of here. This bastard must have waken up half the neighborhood."

Iridia walked down the bed to Frank's side.

When the merchant mentions that the flames are illusory, Gaiven looks down at the box, not quite sure if he believes the man. Sure, it'd make sense. Didn't want to burn your own house down. And would be kind of fool-hardy to threaten him, if they weren't. But the roaring flames, and the way the box had grown hot made the thing seem so real.

After a short second of thought, Gaiven decides that it doesn't really matter any more. Hurrying over to the stairs, he grabs the lantern, and peers down to try and discern the condition of Bobo.

Frank opens the window and steps out with one leg. "Fohgedaboudhim, let's go!" He's already climbing out and down the walls of the richly adorned house.

[Private to GM: Rolls:
Today: Frank the Fiddler rolled 12 using 3d6. Against Climbing, 14, but I don't know the penalty for holding a box of jewels under one arm, or the difficulty modifier for richly adorned house walls (please let them be richly adorned)
Today: Frank the Fiddler rolled 9 using 3d6. Against Acrobatics, 14. To drop down the last feet or in case I fall, to prevent damage.]

Bobo is on his feet trying his best to sneak up the stairs when the lantern's light hits him. For a second's splinter, Gaiven and the ogre lock eyes, and in the giant's fierce gaze, the thief sees murderous rage.

Bobo roars and takes off running up the steps. In two short seconds, he'll be at the top!

Gaiven's eyes widens and his mouth gapes open in voiceless surprise. The lantern's handles lies handily in his right hand, however, and he almost instinctively throws the lamp at the giant, before turning around and storming for the window.

Only to find it largely blocked by Frank and Iridia starting their descent.

Gaiven doesn't see it, but he hears the crash as the lantern's glass smashes. The ogre-man roars in anger and the fat merchant squeals in horror at the prospect that his residence and business might be going up in flames. He manages to haul his massive girth out of bed and waddle over to the door to see if he can help. "Bobo! Roll on it! Put them out you fool!"

As his friends decend, Gaiven takes one last look over his shoulder before following his comrades out the window and into the windy night.

But, the burglars' adventure doesn't come to an end at that point. First, Frank insists on going back for the jewelry box inside the lower floor.

While inside, the merchant starts to shout for soldiers, apparently oblivious to the fact the burglars had returned. "Guards! Guards! Come quickly! Guards!" shouts the merchant out the upper story window. His voice is carried away by the howl of the wind but soon, everyone in the Upper Ward is awake and shouting window to window. Soldiers everywhere come crawling out of their hiding from the storm. The three thieves are hunted like foxes.

How they manage to return to the dark slums of Rimuldar without being caught is perhaps the greatest feet of the night.

Suffice it to say, they make it. Gasping, heaving, sweating, trembling... But they make it.



[Private to Gaiven the Dumb: OOC: You have your two sacks and 4 kp, one of those for the box/flamethrower trick. You can record the kp as unspent points or as Karma Points. Whatever suits you.]

[Private to Iridia Silvermane: Take 2 kp for a job well done! You can record them as unspent character points or as Karma Points, whichever. Great roleplaying!]

[Private to Frank the Fiddler: Take 2 kp for a job well done! You can record them as unspent character points or as Karma Points, whichever. We'll talk about experience points in OOC.]