So, I got DonBrapp holding (advise if I am wrong), Kailute is grappling for submission the lead Zhent, and Quilro is looking for loose packs among the chaos.

Lemme know if I am missing anything, and I will push another round when I get back from work this afternoon.

The three Helmites launch themselves against the far row of Zhents, and both sides tumble to the floor in a mix of flailing limbs, destroyed benches, and flying maces.  Having been commanded to remain seated, the Zhents could do little but take the opening round of the angered priests.

Quilro darts an arm from under the table of one of the Zhents, a sable and felt bag somewhere between the size of a backpack and a pouch.  Looping it under his arm and ducking back into the shadows, it feels bulky with several objects contained inside.

Following the heave of his chair, Kailute locks the blonde human in a full nelson.  While above average strength for a a human, the shock of having a chair unexpectedly over his head, and the sheer size difference renders his attempts at resistance futile.

The lead priest smiles as he realizes this, and uses the advantage to send two mailed jabs straight into the tanned leather protecting the Zhents' torso, causing the blonde human to wince and exhale in pain while attempting unsuccessfully to writhe free of Kailute's grasp.

Traynin and Delbar look on from under the table, passing the mug of ale and trading bites of what remains of the snacks.

All things being equal, the Zhents are losing this fight due to surprise, and are not likely to stand and take the abuse much longer.

DonBrappo is content to watch the fray - drinking and burping and guffawing!

with stolen sack well hidden I will stand on table and yell

gentlemen lets help these men find the door before any deserving harm come to their corrupted asses!
 looking at halflings and my comrades

Pounding his flagon on the table DonBrappo yawps:

"Bully! Bully! Ears open to the regards of my dew drinking faithless woodland sprite of a demonsucking compatriot. This is a a haven, a sanctuary of engorgement and imbibing not a playground for spoon eared pink skins and their soft mating rituals!"

"So knock it off, Mayflies! I'm Eating over here!"

In reply to El DonBrappo Bartholomew McJurgin (msg # 50):

Disappointed that no one is attempting to deal lethal damage to the Zhents, Kailute decides to try and end this quickly.  He will kick the knee out from under the guy he is holding, sinisterly whispers in his ear, "I'm just going to throw you out of the building, don't fight back or you may find out that things are much worse when I start to enjoy myself."  And drags him towards the door, and if able, throws the man into the street.

Guffawing and pounding his flagon on the table:

"I'd listen to the green beast if I were you. there's no quarter here for the likes of you short living smoothskins. Ha!"

Kailute easily pulls the lead Zhent out of the silenced zone, toward the northern window.  “…UNHAND ME YOU GREENSKINNED BRUTE!” wails the human, unable to escape or overcome the barbarian’s grasp.

The rough and tumble commoners of the Moonsea react favorably to Quilro’s exhortation, and some begin to grab clubs, table legs, whatever is handy for a quick menacing sucker shot at the black and purple garbed travelers.

The Helmites have dominated the exchange, and the priest on the far right recovers his mace, and with a backswing knocks the opposing man-at-arms from his table to the floor, likely crushing his elbow.  The two spellcasters histrionically mouth words that will not produce magic effects, and the remaining fighters break from their command to survey the situation.

As their leader is dragged from the table and roughly defenestrated, they all appear to be backing to the north, with intent of breaking for the door in the northeast corner.

“BRAY!  SCALAWAGS! CAN’T EVEN CAST A PROPER INSULT WITHOUT GETTING YER PURPLE ROBES TWISTED!” Yells Belgar from behind the bar, clearly enjoying this bit of excitement.
As the crowd closes around them, the Helmites hold back, and their apparent leader states:  “Enough.  We’ve enough work to smiting the infernals to waste our breath on these dogs.”  Their pride shredded, and their leader wiping broken glass and window slats from his traveling robes, the Zhents make a delaying withdrawal toward the door.  Jostled by the crowd, the aged warrior deftly puts a foot out as the last one passes, sending the spellcaster face first to the floor.  Without even pausing to look, the greyhair returns to his ale.

Traynin and Delbar pull themselves up to the table, flagons and plates empty.
Without too much by way of missed beats, the patrons return to their drinks and meals, and the Helmites settle back to their table.

“Many thanks, Wanderer.  May the Watcher keep thee.”  The lead priest offers his mailed hand to Kailute to shake.  “Mayhap the Keep of He Who Watches can buy you another round?”

In reply to Harticus (msg # 53):

"I need no watching from Helm or any other, but I'm glad to share a drink with anyone who hates those cursed Zhents, even gladder if the drink be bought for me."

"Well met, then.  Lady!  Another round for Helm and our friends here."  He yells toward Barla.

"Maktar, of Watcher's Hold in Hillsfar."  His grasp is firm and solid, and the human stands just about six feet tall.  "You wander far with the elf and dwarf?"  He inquires, motioning toward Quilro and DonBrapp.  "Word is they've kicked over a hive of bees, and it serves Helm to ensure as little as possible infernal filth escapes the abyss to trouble this world."

In reply to Harticus (msg # 55):

"Nay, I just met them.  Barely spoken to the elf, and while the dwarf seems a surly bastard, they seem to attract a sort of trouble -- and coin -- that appeals to me.  Them two tiny Harpers seem to want to get them to repossess or destroy some magic related to Malcho.  Mayhap you can sweeten the pot to get them to aid you in your work."

To the Harperlings:

"Exciting stuff! tell me what you can about these Helmites!"

"Well, sir dwarf, as you can see they are far more prone to action then stealth."  Traynin begins, casting a sideways glance toward the warriors and priests returning to their table and calling for mead.

"They are out of one of the larger temple of Helm in the Moonsea."  Delbar pipes up "Watcher's Hold!  ...not specifically one of Maalthiir's favorites, but a strong and powerful group, nonetheless.  A little grim and proper for my taste."

Trayning continues, annoyed "Yes, they're likely more interested in the glory for Helm than any of that Wizards nonsense.  But they've also not done much to stop the Elvish persecutions, either."

"It is Illayin's intent to clear out whatever evil remains and seize the remnants and the site for the Harpers, and the eventual return of a Druidic conclave."

Delbar belches, and finishes "Those louts are just as likely to stick a magic wand up their arse as they are to study it."

"Typical do good-louts. Let's collect our friends! Fetch  the green skin and and when the other louts have finished runnin' away fetch the yellow haired leaf licker - tell'm I got's a plan."

"What Da FUCK! I've been guffawin' and poundin' my flagon on the table for like 12 hours - would Buttercup McQuillyro and the rest of the Avengers assemble over here or what!?"

"All Fuckin' Day I guffaw and pound my flagon. A waitin' on the pointy eared butterboy - A waitin' on beardless chin folk!"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:24, Tue 28 Apr 2020.

In reply to El DonBrappo Bartholomew McJurgin (msg # 60):

After making some polite conversation, Kailute will wander back over to Don Brappo's table.

To Kailute: "Har! Nice moves!"

To the 1/2lings: "Why don't one or the both of yoos go fetch us 4 flagons of the finest drink in the house on me and fetch my tab."

To Kailute and 1/2 lings: "We drink one more for the Green Beast here and than shall we retire to my rolling abode for  a feast of plenty and more plann'n on the venture we have at hand!"

In reply to El DonBrappo Bartholomew McJurgin (msg # 62):

The Zhents have been momentarily thrown from the Flagon, and after probing and determining that Kailute was a newcomer to the recent heroes of Waymeet, he disenaged politely.  It was clear he was interested in Malcho's former grove, and any lingering evil in the area.

Traynin nods to Delbar, who scurries toward Barla for another round and DonBrapps tab.

"Aye.  Probably best to talk where we're not further overheard."  Traynin remarks flatly, cocking an eyebrow toward the Helmites returned to their table.

Motioning to Kailute to come closer as if to talk without being overheard:

"I have a venture brewin' with these two sneakies from the Harpers. It's worth 50pp if you're interested in a little dungeon clearin' and magic sourcin', findin', clearin' and what not."

In reply to El DonBrappo Bartholomew McJurgin (msg # 64):

"I just arrived here, but I'm ready to head out.  Just need to grab my boar and point me in the right direction"

Delbar returns with another round, and the bill totals 50sp, a lordly sum even during the days when the caravans are plentiful.  Traynin flings 6 gold on the table, and turns to the dwarf and half-orc.

“Was that your caravan we observed at the wheelwright’s lot?  Quite comfortable for the road.  Perhaps in there we could speak more privately, and answer any remaining questions you might have for us lowly seekers.”

They are speaking of an ornately styled caravan wagon that DonBrapp and company had won in combat off the minions of the cambion Prenych.  Being of much higher quality design, and riding on four gnomish engineered shocks the wagon was of significant notice above and beyond the multitude of carts, open backed wagons, and caravan rolling stock that otherwise filled the yards and fields surrounding Waymeet.  It is known to most that this is where the “Victors over Malcho the Fallen” have made their mobile headquarters, when not otherwise found feasting at the flagon.

DonBrappo Guffaws and belches, standing for the first time all day since arriving at the Flagon: "Better your gold than mine ya slippy fingered leatherfoot! Let's be gone to the wagon of my ministry for feasting and discussin' there's much ado about something as usual! Har!"

once safely in the wagon I will share all I have found including coins to see what the party thinks

The durable felt traveling sack that Quilro pilfered from the lead Zhent contains several items.

A black quartz holy symbol of a human hand embossed in the center of a circular talisman.

Probably worth 1-5gp depending upon who would buy it.

A small leather coin purse contains four small lapis lazuli gems, a tiny emerald, 18pg, 25sp, 8cp.

Rolled into a bone white leather mapcase there is a map that covers the area from Zhentil Keep to Darkhold.  Along the route, several markings suggest river fords, grazing stashes, and rally points in purple ink.

There are three cork stoppered potion vials;  two of a milky blue solution and one that is clear flecked with gray specks.

Finally, there is a rolled letter scrawled in red on vellum parchment.

Elkdin,

  This shipment is of utmost importance.  The garrison at Darkhold is in desperate need of appropriate weapons, and these curry both the Dark One’s eminence, and enhance our ability to smite and inspire monsterkin.  Ensure they make the journey unmolested.  Our sea routes remain uncertain, and while long this delivery will earn you both prestige, favor in the network, and significant platinum.

  There is an opportunity for further dark glory.  Recent tales of a summoned infernal in the area of Waymeet have blessed the Dark One’s ears.  Any information you could glean on this would be useful, and well rewarded.  Take care, as there are others interested in this as well.

-May darkness shield thee, Xareth

Holding the vials up for a closer look "Hmmnnn....Potions"

To the 1/2lings: "Let's go Bilbos! Your the Harpers - scrutinize this letter."