Rogues Gallery (The Thieve's Game)

The Cook Wagon
Crys's Displeasure

Crys slammed the cleaver into the goat carcass with a satisfying crack of bone. The kitchen boy, Leto, watched her intently as another crack broke the goat side cleanly in half.
“What are you starin’ at?! Gemme the spices!” She barked at him with the high pitched sting that one would expect from a schipperke.
The young man obeyed. Despite her power, Leto still towered over her small elvish frame. He himself was slight, but had gained several inches in the last year with the caravan, and obviously carried much more human blood than elvish. He rushed back with the spices, and handed to the increasingly irritated platinum blonde; her face had begun to flush over her freckles.
“I’m sorry Miss Crys!”
“Just grind the pepper!”
“Yes, ma…ma’am…” he stammered.
She had been like this for weeks. Leto had heard rumors around the caravan about an altercation at one of the merchant’s wagons. He did not dare ask, but had remembered her leaving early that previous evening, and had spent the entire morning raving about a blue dress.
Leto heard the tiny cook swear loudly behind him, but let her be.
Crys continued to break down the goat while laying spices and salt on the meat and throwing the bones in a boiling pot. Leto continued prepping rubs.
She had been at this routine for weeks, and yet still did not feel comfortable in it.
After a few hours, the boy risked easing the tension. “Miss Crys?”
“What?” came the short, nasally voice.
“Are you okay?” He winced and curled his body a little to anticipate her scowling, only to be delightfully disappointed. She looked at him with as if he had just then lost his young mind.
“I… I only mean… you seem upset… more than usual… and and… and your arm is bruised… and…” He stopped as she raised an eyebrow at him.
After a moment she spoke. “I’m fine Leto.” I just… I just…. I didn’t get my dress," She concluded, heaving one last crack of the goat’s ribs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~ II ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Varric was a giant while still being full human. The commanding figure stood motionless next to the merchant’s wagon. “I cannot reach my brother.” He concluded. The twins had a psychic link which allowed them to communicate. They had tried to explain this to the tiny bruiser at their last visit to her cook wagon. This was as much as she was able to grasp of the “sy-own-icks” they kept on about. Not that it really concerned her.
“Sooo… that means what exactly?” She countered.
“I assume they are keeping him unconcious.” Luciado offered softly.
Varric nodded. I sense seven total, three are in distress.
“So four to ugly up? We can handle that.” The half elf stated emphatically counting extensively on her small hands. Crys glanced at him with a cocky smile. “Don’t worry. I got this. You guys stay clear.”
“We need the merchant…” The tall man began.
“… To be on the offensive. I go in, cause a ruckus, he attacks me, you and Lucky Luce goes in to help “rescue me”, and we get take care of the other… three?" She paused to count digits again. “And then we get your brother and the others. Bing, bang, boom, done.”
Varris looked at her quizzically.
Luciado broke the silence with a sigh. “Crys, just… just do your thing.”
Crys smirked. Then as she knocked feverishly at the merchant’s door. “Excuse me, Sir!… Mr. Merchant Sir!”
A few footsteps later, and hazard-looking Southerner appeared looking out-of-sorts. “Can I help you?”
“Hello Sir! I am looking for a dress.” She explained as sweetly as possible. She was very glad her new armor posed well as a normal jerkin.
“You can come back in the morning. I have closed my stall, Miss.”
“Buuuut Sir! I am one of the cooks, and this is the first moment I have been able to venture as I have just set the cure on the mutton. I will be breaking it down, and baking bread in the morning!” She spoke very hurriedly, to the point he could swear she was actually part gnome.
The merchant gave a look of defeat. “Fine but you can only enter the front part of the wagon.”
“Oh, thank you, thank you!” She began, taking a momentary breath before starting on her tirade again. “Patsy came by our wagon today. she’s the cook from the first section you know, and she had on this GORGEOUS blue dress with lace trim, and I asked her where she got it, and she said you had them. Sooo, here I am. Please tell me you still have that dress!”
The merchant was clearly experienced with such bombardments. “I have several blue dresses with lace,” he said calmly. “This one here is made with cool flax.”
“No, no, no, not that one. The one Patsy had was shiny! I love the sheen, don’t you think I deserve sheen?”
“Of course miss. This one here is made of fine cambric.”
“Nooooooo that’s totally the wrong blue. The one I want is periwinkle blue!”
“This is periwinkle, miss.”
“No not that periwinkle, the blue of Bab’s eyes…but you don’t know Bab… It’s not periwinkle that’s for sure… It’s bluer…”
The merchant’s face began to contort at the nasally schipperke voice.
“And anyway that one has white lace, not blue lace…”
The half-elf was cut short by the enraged merchant. “That’s it!” He grabbed her arm roughly.
Crys called out in a feigned-panic, “Help, help!”

[Did Lucy and Varric storm in or just Lucy?]

Mugshot's Journal #130
Legitimate Enterprises

So far we have found no evidence of plots or immediate threats to the Empire from the Caravan, only threats directly against the caravan. Granted, in light of recent information, it sounds that these threats could be leading to a credible threat against the empire, but until we know more it is best that we do not jump to conclusions or tip our hand.

As an experienced adventurer I have been placed in charge of 20 guardsmen. Over the weeks since we have been working and drilling together, I have been getting the hang of my command, and have built a mutual trust with those who are following me. Hansen has become my right hand man, leading in my absence, offering tactical advice, and just generally filling in for my weaknesses as a leader, which is helping me learn quite a bit.

In other news, Mondar has joined the caravan, much to everyone’s surprise and… Well. Displeasure. They weren’t originally going to let him sign up, but my lucky self happened to be walking by when we spotted each other at the same time.

“He’ll vouch for me!”


“What am I vouching for?”

Short story shorter, the dwarf was hired on as a beastmaster and guardian. The look on Krys’s face when she heard was delightful. Well, what I saw of it before I vacated the area…

Anyway, we were attacked during the night by men cloaked in dark robes. My men only had two, who were quickly dispatched. One by Hansen and Bob (with a slight assist from me), the other by Fiddlesticks, George, and Jayne. The urge to leap headfirst into the fray was… Really, really difficult to put aside, but my lady is very proud of me. I kept my head, I held back, and I commanded. I’m definitely not our Captain, but I’m holding my own so far.

While my command lost no one, one of the wagons further up the chain was hit very hard, so I was forced to give up two of my men to shore up their defenses. One the upside, we were close to the port at this point, at which point the Captain hand picked five new guards for my section, Varric, Braun, Jihada, Ashe, and Shepherd.

They have fit in quite well with the existing troops and Hansen has sorted them into the watch rotation.

Now, the plots. I have been tracking the Slimeball whenever I get the chance (I lost track of him when Mondar called me to vouch for him). I haven’t been able to get close enough to hear much of the arguments that he seems to be getting into, but Malakai helped set in motion some excellent spying. Seriously, if we weren’t in the middle of a job where being outed as the head of a Thieve’s guild would probably get me tortured and murdered, there are several of my soldiers I would happily recruit.

Thanks to Malakai’s sticky ears, and some… possibly rigged card games for Shepherd, Garrus, and Wrex, we have a lot more information than we had before.

Firstly: Of the five principles, two are relatively new and not widely trusted among those that I trust. Reason enough to not like them.

Secondly: Whatever the attackers are hunting for is in the third wagon of one of the sections. It is likely an artifact or crystal of power, and the Slimeball is definitely in the middle of what is going on.

Thirdly: And this is conjecture, but with the recent motions made by some of the less pleasant gods, if these people get their hands on whatever this object is, it is likely to cause trouble for the Empire, and by extension, my friends.

Fourthly: We know who is giving the Slimeball a legitimate business face within the caravan, this bit of information courtesy of Teemo.

Malakai has set up our entire section with wineskins full of laughing water out of his own pocket. I have brought Mondar and Luciatto up to speed, as well as Krys. I feel for diminutive Bruiser, the lack of action from the cook wagon is really frustrating for her.

Only two months or so left in our contracts. Hopefully we’ll sort out this artifact business soon, and the rest of our contract will be as simple caravan guards.

Strange as it sounds, I’m actually really liking this whole Caravan Guard gig. If I get the chance, I may have to do this again, if this Caravan ends up being on the up-and-up, of course. As it stands, my men have standing invitations to Olympia, and I will happily buy any and all of them a drink, as soon as we’re in a position to do so.

Oh, speaking of drinking! Mondar has been SOBER. I am amazed. He’s also the first of us to actually backstab someone in our crew. We’ve been fighting together for YEARS now, and somehow, he’s the only one of us to ever actually backstab. How odd.

Captain’s coming and my break is about over. Back to the line.

Mugshot's Journal #124
A Job (Mostly) Well Done

Just forewarning, I may be remembering certain events out of order, misremembering details, and the like, but the gist is the same. Our successful conclusion to the mission, quick return to Olympia, and subsequent party now that we’re going to be home for more than two hours (and subsequent drinking that happened at said party) has muddled my memory somewhat. Vyl will help as best she can.

We successfully entered the town and met up with Bill, the friend we made the last time we were in Riverock, and mutual friend of Rolph. He happily invited us into his home and graciously allowed us to stay in his remarkably secured guest house. I have a feeling that a certain K. S. F. may have had something to do with the… Atmosphere, but did not ask the Guard Captain of such things.

Instead, he filled us in on the current climate and goings on, we relayed the information that we had, and he left us to plot in secret. We decided to split up, for reasons I cannot quite remember, and Krys and I returned to the boat to speak to the Captain about… I can’t remember either. The important bit is that he needed someone to take the specialty barrel that was mentioned in my previous journal to some kind folk in the warehouse district, which worked just fine for us as there were agents we were looking to meet within said district.

So the two of us happily wheeled the barrel off to the warehouse district and meet a small group of thugs, who pay us, act intimidating ish that we saw nothing, and then immediately wheel the barrel through a hidden door in the warehouse. Krys and I make note of this as we leave to meet the agents we were seeking anyway. I don’t remember quite what news we received from them (I’m a little hung over, okay? I don’t want to hear it Vyl! I successfully drank an OGRE under the table!)

We relayed news of the secret door, they told us to meet up with Marco (or was it Marco we were talking to?)… My memory is hazy at best.

During this time, Nith and Luciatto went to the temple of Mishalkall, to relay information and begin gathering supplies, at which point they learned that a high priestess had gone missing as she investigated an outbreak of dysentery. At this time they were also met by a runner telling them that one of the other high priestesses may be in trouble, so the two head over to investigate and find parents with a terribly sick and dying child demanding to see the high priestess while two gaurds essentially tell them to fuck right off.

The parents disappeared into the crowd while the child (actually a dwarf with beard shaven and bearing the brand of Kemosh) dies, and the guards, highpriestess, and the group return to the temple with the body.

When we meet back up, more information is shared, and we decide we may need to act sooner than later. Mugshot checks the door and finds the correct mark in the wrong place.

I am short on time now, but I will finish this hopefully when my mind is more clear.

Mugshot's Journal #122 / #123
Karlston / KeepTown


There is something about Karlston that puts me slightly on edge, and it has nothing to do with the people. I don’t care what Sylwinalli says, that boat creeps me out. Maybe less the boat, than the man who commands it. The true Heros of the Empire, wherever they may be… There’s something awe-inspiring about them.

And terrifying. I have no wish to meet the Lady Cierra, Lord Greggor, Lord General Dar, or Lord Captain Karl Fischer. I fear that if I ever do, we will be in a situation even WE won’t survive, and frankly, I’ve fought the bitch-queen Tachesis with my bare goddamned hands.

This mission is not going to go down like our first job in Olympia. Olympia was a smaller town, and we were more or less anonymous, allowing free and easy movement as we went about our business. Well, except for Krys of course, but that worked out for the best I would say. RiveRock, however, and now?

Between our adventures and our antics in the Games, Krys and I are known far and wide, and well liked for the most part as well. While it does make some of life easier, it makes clandestine operation nearly impossible, and disguises aren’t going to work amazingly well for this. Not on the silver tusked juggling half-orc especially, and my presence makes the rest of our identities fairly easy to surmise.

As such, I am planning a much more direct approach. After all, we made a couple of friends while we were there, including a mutual friend of Rolph’s. If he’s still around, he may be able to help with information and getting our bearings on the climate of the town. If nothing else, there are both a large temple to Mishalkall and the stronghold of the Order of the Arches, both of which should be beyond suspicion in the matter at hand.

Hopefully we’ll know more when we meet Killian’s spies and Glove’s courier.


There has been an interesting and very unfortunate development. On the barge upriver, the customs officer found a suspicious barrel of Lord Bart’s beer. Inside was a trapped letter, and a leather satchel. Three things of note here:

The first: Explosive Runes is one of the foulest tastes I’ve ever had, and I’ve had Luciatto’s cooking.

The second: Whatever poison or magical disease is contained in that bag is very, very bad.

The third: We now have a lead.

It’s possible we have tipped our hand by opening the letter and setting off the runes, or by opening the bag, but the ability to retrieve the information within was hopefully worth the risk. We are fairly certain They plan to poison the wells of RockRiver on some day, but we do not know exactly when. I don’t know how we’ll stop them, but that satchel is going to be very important.

I don’t know the details of their plan, but they certainly won’t be expecting our move when we make it. The Ranger I have become can’t let them do this to the water supply. We will find them, we will stop them.

We reach RiverRock tomorrow. We start the hunt then.

~Mugshot Wolffang Dragontooth, Head of the Olympian Thieve’s Guild, Ranger of the Order of the Arches

Mugshot's Journal #121
No Rest for the Wicked

There is no rest for the wicked, it would seem. Not even the reformed, honest business people who want nothing more than to live out their days in peace and obscuri-

Yeah, I really couldn’t even write that with a straight face, dearest.

Let’s see… Where to begin? My first day back on the job at Russets, and I did not so much as get to juggle my breakfast. As soon as I walked in, Russet lead me to the back to meet none other than Killian Salvatore Falkonian himself. In his own flesh, without artifice, without disguise. He, of course, had a job for us.

It would seem that RockRiver is now in a situation similar enough to Olympia’s before Krys, Drace, Nith, and myself came in and altered the balance. The magistrate is not just corrupt, but a traitor to the empire during the war. Even now, he plots against them with unknown factions, and it is up to us to go to RiverRock and… Alter the balance.

Krys and I had the beginnings of a good plan in place before we even left home. Forged documents to sow dissent among the conspirators, important items missing or… Located unfortunately for certain members. Gloves is working on this as I write this, and it should make our job easier.

I do have a number of concerns, however, but time is short. We are leaving Olympia before the Poker Game begins. Knowing the usual suspects, we have already passed word to Rolph, and through him, Reginald, as well as the Guild. I will outline my thoughts when we reach Karlston, and have had some time to work through them. As usual, Driffa is staying with the Jaffa and the guild.

I miss my tiger. When I get back from this, we are SO going hunting.

…After I juggle for Russet’s store. I haven’t done that in a month and a half!

~Mugshot Wolffang Dragontooth, Head of the Olympian Thieve’s Guild, Ranger of the Order of the Arches

Kry's Thoughts
In Third Person

Krys lumbered along the dark path back to the house, now Luciado’s. Her smart-ass horse was killed, and she had been traveling for the last month constantly attacked by assassins. All she wanted was home. Now that everything was starting to come together, all she wanted was to hold her child, sleep in her own bed next to her husband. She looked at her oldest friends, and saw the exhaustion painted on their faces. Luciado’s new estate at least gave a few nights rest while they resupplied for the trip home. She realized how ironic it was that not so many decades ago this city was the home she would not have traded the world for, and now she wanted nothing more than to be on her way.

Mugshot's Journal #118

Almost the instant we exited the town gates, the heavens opened and a rain the likes we haven’t seen this season pounded us into the road. This leg of our journey should have been nearly a sprint, but we were forced to crawl, resting ourselves and our horses often. Eventually, we made it to the old forest, and set up our large tent, deciding to hunker down and wait out the worst of the storm.

By the time the rain had slacked off, our horses had stopped shivering and seemed ready (if not entirely enthused) to resume the journey. Our tent was far-too waterlogged for us to take with us, so we left it as is and set back into the rain. Now that the driving storm was over, we were able to make better time. Not much, we still had to stop regularly.

I lost my steed Keb during the first ambush. Chry’s Smartass also fell in the first volley, but Chrys and Luciatto easily handled their assassins. When I managed to extricate myself from beneath Keb, I heard a shout and saw someone attacking the Lady Nith. By the time I arrived, the assassin was dead. I kicked his corpse off of her, received her crossbow in my face as thanks. She didn’t kill the assassin, and I didn’t kill the assassin. That could mean only one thing:

Our Friend the Assassin saved her.

Not entirely certain how I felt about that.

As we stripped the bodies of weapons and useful gear, the assassin’s ponies came running up the road. Between Nith and I we were able to get them stopped, and wound up spending the next couple of hours shifting our gear around. Luciatto took Nith’s horse, I took Luciatto’s horse, and Chys and Nith each took a pony, while we rigged a make-shift pack-saddle to the remaining pony. Chrys, Lucy, and I each took one of the assassin’s cloaks and masks, which drastically improved our vision in the rain and helped keep us dry and warm through some minor enchantment.

The next interesting encounter occurred at one of the Xs on the map. Obviously a proper rest area built by the Empire, it was currently in use by a trade caravan, stopped for lunch. They were eating a hearty stew that smelled particularly amazing, and had apparently been given word of our approach by our friend Assassin.

I suspected it was simply a ploy to slow us down, so after a brief conversation, we continued on. The second ambush point was coming up, but instead of the expected assassins, we found a girl with an umbrella standing in the road, waiting for us. We followed her to her parents, both wounded, but tended to. Apparently, the assassins from this ambush point had attacked the girl and her parents.

Apparently, our Friend Assassin doesn’t take kindly to that sort of thing.

The men were hanging by their dislocated arms, with every bone of the legs and feet obviously broken.

Have I mentioned that I like this guy?

We took the assassin’s gear, and the farmer lent me his draft horse, an animal much more suited to me than even Luciatto’s beast. In exchange, I gave the farmer my plainsfolk talisman, and again we continued on our way.

The third ambush point we decided to screw subtlety and charge through, but as they say, no plan ever makes it beyond the first engagement. The assassins rose from camouflaged fox-holes, sending crossbow bolts into our midst. Had Luciatto not leaped from his horse to attack, and had Chrys not attempted the same only to end up on her own blade, the Lady Nith would have simply cast a wall of fire behind us while we charged through. Instead, both of our actual fighters were struck by poisoned blades.

The assassin nearest me caught a soul-charged crossbow bolt to the chest, while Nith used Hold Person on her attacker. The remaining two tried switching to blades, but caught vorpal daggers instead. Rather than waste time with the bodies or the held assassin, we hit them with water acorns and left.

As we broke through the woods and onto the final stretch to Dunbar, we were stopped by an army with our Assassin Friend at the forefront. Some discussion later and we found out that not only was the man behind our bounties dead, but that no one was paying for the job anymore. Instead, the assassin gave us riddle.

“I am felled by an ax. Your face is the last thing I see.”

Two answers popped into my mind: A Tree, and an criminal to be executed. Chrys answered first, offering ‘tree’ which turned out to be incorrect. Luciatto proclaimed a head, which the Assassin decided was good enough.

Long story short, Luciatto now owns several acres inside of Dunbar City, as well as a small, well-stocked and employed mansion. We ate, washed, and slept for an hour or three before being woken and lead to the Dunbar Thieve’s Guild. Inside, we met with Killian Salvatore Falconian, the head of Dunbarian Empire Thieve’s Guilds, to whom we delivered The Box as well as the Imperial coin press.

The box contained a gnomish device of some sort that Killian placed over Dunbar City on an impressive map. Two, impressive maps, actually. The first was a map of the world, and the world is a much larger place than I had ever suspected. The second was a highly detailed map of Dunbar city.

Deliveries made, were then taken to a party and inducted into the Dunbarian thieve’s guild.

The next day, I was given a big, ugly percheron by the name of Snotface. It is a very fitting name, and I am likely going to have to take him to our Tree to see if we cannot remedy his allergies. I also gifted my Vorpal Daggers of Sniping to Pip, who always manages to be where things are most interesting. The daggers were simply… Too powerful for one such as myself to carry. I hope Pip finds someone who needs them more, or at the very least finds some way to enjoy them.

Chrys and Nith both have received new horses as well, stronger horses well suited to a life of adventuring. I believe Nith’s is even properly armored, a step I will need to take when we return to Olympia. Speaking of Pip and Olympia, the Paiges Guild has expanded to Dunbar City, operating out of the Boar’s Head Inn and Luciatto’s estate. While I had not planned to expand that guild here yet, I am happy it has happened. Call it a test-run, to see how well the Paiges are able to blend into the new setting.

If they are as successful as I have every right to expect, then the rest of our plans will have an expansion model to work from.

As I write this, the draft horse has been returned, I have my necklace back, and my companions have all made their way home, but there is one more stop for me, a home I haven’t seen in far too long. I’ll be there by nightfall to return the last precious pieces of my Lady’s soul. In fact, I believe I hear her calling me now, so I will finish this journal now.

Go in peace, Keb. You were a damned fine horse, felled too soon by an assassin’s hand. I have avenged you, blood for blood, but you will always be missed.

~Mugshot Wolffang Dragontooth, Head of the Olympian Thieve’s Guild, Ranger of the Order of the Arches

Mughshot's Journal #117
Riverock - Rock River on the Road to Dunbar

Some interesting developments in this journey. In the forest to the South of an Imperial training base… Really, THE Imperial training base, as this is the one founded by the hero, Lord Greggor… At any rate, in this forest, a contingent of trainees led by a scarred and remarkably slowly speaking Gnome joined our camp for the night. I have only two items of note from this interaction:

The first: This patrol of seven – Six trainees and their erstwhile instructor – has killed thirty-eight assassins they had found skulking about their forest patrol. This is excellent news in that we now have thirty-eight fewer people on our trail. Bad news in that there are a remarkable number of people after us, and while the bodies we leave in our wake — that we know of — are must be numbering close to a hundred now, there are still an untold number ahead trying to stop us.

The second: On account of the instructor not allowing his trainees to carry food with them, our stores have been replenished with venison. For a somewhat hurried journey fraught with danger as we try to reach Dunbar alive, we certainly are eating well.

After passing through Riverock (and finding a new contact who apparently knows Rolph), we made camp. As we set up our tents, a lone figure, keeping his hands visible, entered our camp site, introducing himself as one of the assassins who is out to stop us. He certainly does seem as honorable as he claims, and after some words were exchanged, he and I shook hands and he left our camp unmolested. An interesting fellow, to be certain, and if he wasn’t being paid to kill me and my companions, I might even find myself enjoying his company.

Yes, dear. That’s why you love me, of course! I get along with everyone!

At any rate, our usual watches were arranged, and we slept. Sometime during Second, we came under attack. Luciatto quickly joined the fray as Fuzzy kicked everyone awake. I’m sorry to say that Lucy was felled before I could be roused. As I rose, however, Chrys and Fuzzy seemed to have their fight well in hand, so I turned towards Luciatto’s unseen attackers, and charged. Once out of the clearing and into the brush, they became quite visible, and I fell upon my chosen target with a will and Roarx’s Daggers of Punching.

The assassin’s blades were sharp, but he lost much of his fight when his left femur became pulverized. That he was able to stand after that blow was impressive, that he managed to lunge back at me on his good leg after I spun him by his wounded, more impressive still, but he could not control his balance or momentum to stop my throw, much less the dagger to his ribs that helped him into the air.

As my assassin fell, I turned to see the Lady Nyth throat punch her own aggressor, and swiftly kick an explosive pot from his hand before he had a chance to use it upon us. With all four assassins down, Nyth moved to help Luciatto while Chrys, Fuzzy, and I took care of the bodies. In the morning, we retrieved their ponies, gathered their weapons, and continued on to the next town. We came in late in the evening, acquired rooms at a fairly nice inn, and enjoyed a night of excellent food and entertainment, followed by impressively locked doors.

The next morning, Fuzzy and myself went to the market to sell off the assassin’s gear and the extra ponies. When we returned, we ran into the Assassin again, and parted ways amicably enough. He seemed to be in a hurry, no doubt laying a trap for us on the road ahead. Luckily, the Lady Nyth appears to have secured a very nice map, so after a quick study, we will plot our course and make what will hopefully be our final run to Dunbar city.

We are two days out now, faster if we run the whole way, though I do not know that our horses would be able to handle that… Whatever the outcome, we are nearly at journey’s end.

Mask, you have guided me to this path, and I will run it through to whatever end lies ahead of me. Bless this party with your cunning and with your luck. I have a feeling we will need it.

Syllvanis, the Blue Lady thanks you, and asks that you might lend your blessings to our friends as we travel through your great forest around Dunbar. And for what it’s worth, keep an eye on my tiger?

~Mugshot Wolffang Dragontooth, Head of the Olympian Thieve’s Guild, Ranger of the Order of the Arches

A Letter to Jaffa
Information Gathering

To my good friend Jaffa,

Our present situation has lead me to the conclusion that we are severely lacking reliable information sources. This lack of information, and worse, the misinformation, is extremely dangerous for those of us involved, as well as those we have left behind as we take care of the business at hand. As such, I feel there are a few steps that we can take to greatly improve our intelligence gathering capabilities.

First, we have excellent resources in and around our home. We already have some ties to the Bardic Collegium, perhaps the best information source in the empire. We need to strengthen these ties, and find an equitable working relationship. Inter-discipline training, information or item trading, immunity and protection to all members of the College, outright bribery, whatever it takes. We need their reach. The Bards can go places we often can’t, speak to those who wouldn’t dream of being near us, often have special privileges in high-places, and most importantly, have ears as sticky as Pip’s fingers.

Within our town, the Companions Guild is also an important asset that has been largely over-looked. Making inroads with them will take more time, but I believe we can, with help from the Bards, have a source of information that not even the Bards can quite claim. Our long-term goal here should be to open a very High-end, respectable (and expensive) establishment with combined training from all three of our guilds. These men and women would be privy to information likely unobtainable through any of our other methods, including torture, with the additional benefit of being renewable and reusable, as well as an additional source of income for the guilds involved.

We will see the greatest benefit here during the Games, but I believe as the reputation of our establishment grows, we will see further returns on our investment.

We also need to have a better relationship with our competitive guilds, as well as the Assassin’s guild. The… Careful sharing of resources and information can spread the reach of our information network. In combination, all three of these could lead to our information network stretching the entirety of the Empire and perhaps beyond.

Finally, we require a fast and secure method of transferring information. I do not have any solid ideas here, perhaps check with the Bards, the DoucheBag Mage, or Pip. As head of the Pages guild, he may have some notion for managing that. Perhaps an expansion of the Pages Guild is in order?

I am trusting you to take this advice and find the best people and methods to bring it to fruition, as well as to put in place any additional avenues or safeguards as you see fit. The Guild Resources are yours to command.


Guildmaster Mugshot Dragonstooth Wolffang


In the mean time, see what you can dig up on our Dwarf.

Mugshot's Journal #116
Rockwall: Questioning and The Road

The questioning mentioned in my previous journal was conducted one person at a time by the Sheriff Deputy Officer Marshall Dylan, with myself as the leader being questioned first. The questions themselves were nothing more or less than I had expected, mainly wondering where were from and where we were going, until he brought up the spurious warrants for our arrest and insinuated that I was a thief.

To say the Marshall has an excellent poker face would be an understatement. And he claims to not have a sense of humor! He also let me know that, “…a young rapscallion by the name of Pip…” had ridden into town on a tiger that had leapt over the 40ft wall, and was looking for us. Dryffa was being held in magical stasis until such time as we left with her.

After everyone was questioned, we were allowed to return to our rooms, but ran into Pip on the way. We discussed current events in our town, the state of the Guild, and he passed on a warning with information we did not have before. Some of these assassins are actually Master / High Assassins. I don’t know who we pissed off, or more likely, what the hell is in the box that we are carrying, but someone wants us very, very dead.

As it stands, I feel like we are depopulating part of the world, somewhat.

As a parting shot, Pip mentioned that he would be playing poker with Oblivion that night. Krys put up some money, asking him to double it, and then we went to our rooms to sleep.

In the morning, her winnings were on her pillow. We went out to watch a pissed off Oblivion ride through the closed gate, burning with an aura of horrible brimstone-y things and leaving a path of ice in wake. We spoke briefly with the Marshal and Pip where we learned that this town is an Order of the Arches stronghold.

It was about this time that Dryffa broke out of the stasis and her cell. And the building she was being held in, to greet me with a body slam. Being tackled by a four-hundred pound tiger is an experience I don’t know that I would often want to repeat, but I let it pass I have missed her so much.

She has grown! No longer the lanky katten, she’s a solid mass of fuzz, teeth, and claws who by all accounts I’ve heard has been just as active in protecting the town as the guard or the Thieve’s Guild. We rough-housed for a little but sadly we had to part ways as I feel she is probably safer in Olympia, and I have no want to have anyone die for me.

With my armor retrieved , and a message of a debt of favor for Alazar, we returned to the road, finding it trecherous and icy after Oblivion’s burning passage. We picked our way carefully, until we came across the words “OBLIVION WAS HERE” drawn in blood and gore across the landscape with the remains of several assassins.

We admired his penmanship before returning to the road, and making our way to a decent campsite. Lucy put up a blind while I built a few wilderness specific traps ,watches were assigned, and we all tried to rest.

Sometime during the first half of second watch, while Krys and Lucy were up together, assassins struck. They were handled easily by the pair, with the rest of the camp only waking up after the action as the two yelled at each other for whatever reason. We tracked down the assassin’s ponies, brought them back to our camp, looted the bodies, and then went back to sleep.

The rest of the night was uneventful.

The next day, we again made good time and reached our next destination, a town I cannot remember at this time, but as soon as someone tells me I will add here. A blizzard has blown in again, so we will wait for it to pass before we decide how to cross the river.

We are only a week or so from Dunbar, I believe. I hope my planned path is as secure as it looks…

~Mugshot Wolffang Dragontooth, Head of the Olympian Thieve’s Guild, Ranger of the Order of the Arches


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