Chapter 1 - A Tale of Two Cities

Shargon has been a happy camper being basically forced to join, but it has suited her. She is incredibly tall and stands well over 6' tall. She has broad should showing off her strength. She is always looking down at people without much choice in the matter.

She wears no armor and generally like to use her greataxe, but right now would only further the problems with crowd. Still she can use the flat side of it like a club. Her silver/white hair is pulled back into a tight pony tail right now.

With quick strides she joyfully joins in the fray swinging her greataxe like a might club. She has tossed her quarterstaff that was in her hands to the ground as she approaches. Her eyes light up as she goes into full rage. She can't resist but to put people down. She is a wild animal now.

Amnon is a tiefling with blueish skin. Dark, messy hair and a scar over his left eye. His size is on the smaller size and his build is slight. He looks hesitant at the mob of people, both because he's not exactly physically adept at hand-to-hand combat, but also because he's not exactly sure that these people are in the wrong. "Captain, why can't we let these people through? If they want to leave, why the hell do we need to keep them here!?".

As the commoners start to break through, he freezes, and tries to stand his ground. "Why did I get roped into this..."

Sam just closed a case of a corrupt guardsman. To solve it she had joined the flaming fist, and was planning to leave it again, but then they sealed the city, and she was kind of stuck. And then the riots...

Since forever she knew how to manipulate light, and this time she would use it to her advantage. She had the Flaming Fist tunic on over her blue shift and scale mail. She picked up a club and enveloped it in a clear blue light, making it very visible, that she was armed, and capable of using at least some magic. With her white air blowing in the wind, her shield up, and a raised "magic" club, she was hoping for an intimidating sight.

Another tiefling, tall for one of her race, with reddish-brown skin scans the scene with a look of bitter sadness. Her eyes, orbs of yellow, molten fire, look upon those she had been so graciously assigned to by her church, so that she could keep her vigilant watch over her brother, Amnon, as she shakes her head. She walks forward, her body clad in heavy chainmail with matching gauntlets and greaves. Her kite shield bore the mark of Ilmater, two white hands, bound by red cord, which matched the symbol hanging from her neck, swinging from side to side as she marches onward. She would look the pinnacle of divine wrath were it not for the two sharp, black horns that emerged from her head and curled behind her ears like a ram, or the barbed tail that twitched with irritation as she reached the captain.

She looks at him briefly, and then to her other companion, who appears to be of the same mind as she. This violence solved nothing, and the only way to ease these peoples' plight was to get their attention.

She takes a deep breath, drawing upon the magic she knew she had been born with. "That. Is. ENOUGH!" she shouts, her voice booming thanks to her devil's blood.

Capt. Zodge is up to his neck in commoner's. As one makes a swing at him, he dodges, grabs the man by the wrist, and snaps it backwards. A spray of blood spurts across the crowd as bone protrudes from the man's skin.

He looks up at Amnon, who seems to be hesitating. He shouts loudly, pointing at the crowd. "We'll have time for chitchat later! The Council has given me authority to draft those I deem a potential help to the cause." He turns just as a man with a dagger charges him. He grabs him by the forearm, then headbutts the man straight in the nose. The man falls backwards to the ground, blood pouring from his nose. Zodge then kicked forwards, directly into the man's face, knocking him unconscious. He turns back to Amnon. "Either help us, or we'll consider you a traitor and you'll end up with the rest of these rabble."

Meanwhile, Sam approaches one man (a dwarf with short scraggly black hair) with a glowing club, hoping to intimidate him. The man looks like he's either desperate or crazy, and charges at Sam, swinging at her and missing. Alongside her, Shargon uses the broadside of her greataxe like an enormous cricket bat, knocking people onto the ground with ease.

Finally, Harmony grows tired of this. She raises her shield high into the air, imbuing it with divine magic. "That. Is. ENOUGH!" Her voice booms, and a small concussive sound wave emanates from her.

A small hush falls in the area, and both sides of the conflict take stock of the situation. Zodge looks to Harmony, a mix of approval and disappointment on his face. He turns to his own men, the shouts again to the crowd. "I say again, the Council has decreed nobody in or out of Baldur's Gate until it is safe to do so." He motions his men, then to the dozen or so people who had been taken down in the scuffle. "Bind the traitors and lock them up." The Flaming Fists nod, and begin to shackle the commoners.

Zodge takes a rag from his pocket and wipes the blood from his brow. He adjusts his eye patch, then places the rag back in his pocket. He waves the four of you over to the side of the street, out of earshot of the crowd. "Thanks for that. Shit has gotten crazy around here lately. The Council of Four...well, Three of the Four, have been worried sick ever since word has come up of the fall of Elturel. Word is all that's left is a hole in the ground."

Amnon shakily catches his breath, his sister had saved him again. Looking at the poor commoners getting arrested for doing nothing more than trying to save their lives, he turns his head away in disgust. "Three of the four? What about the last one?...and how does a whole city disappear!?"

"Its still some sort of a mystery what the hell happened, but its cause a refugee crisis here," says Captain Zodge, "People are all worried that Baldur’s Gate might suffer the same fate as Elturel. Big old hole in the ground, apparently. Our grand duke, Ulder Ravengard, was visiting Elturel on a diplomatic mission when the city was destroyed. Coincidence? I think not. Hence the lockdown order from the three remaining Dukes.

"The knights of Elturgard call themselves Hellriders. A few of them escaped the destruction and think we’re somehow to blame for Elturel’s downfall. What a bunch of self-righteous rabble-rousers! We’re arresting them on sight, but that’s left us shorthanded to deal with another problem. For that, I need your help."

Harmony tries to avoid looking at the poor souls being arrested by the Fist mercs. On any normal day, she would be exercising every right to help these struggling people. But that was not her duty today. Her brothers and sisters of the church knew of the troubles brewing. They would seek to provide.

Her head turns to the captain as he speaks. "What is the problem?" she asks, not liking the fact that he might be dancing around it. She preferred people to just speak their mind. It saved everyone a lot of trouble down the road.

Zodge smirks at Harmony. "I like this one." He lowers his voice a bit so only the four of you can hear.

"Baldur’s Gate has long been plagued by followers of the Dead Three — the gods Bane, Bhaal, and Myrkul. I thought we had wiped them out, but apparently not. These purveyors of fear and death are taking advantage of the current crisis to commit murder sprees throughout the city. As my appointed deputies in this matter, you’ll have license to kill these wretches on sight. Find their lair, and wipe it out. Eliminate anyone who gets in your way, and don’t worry about collateral damage. We have ways of dealing with messy situations." He nods at the crowd being "dealt with" and gives you a wink.

"If you do what I say, I’ll see that you each receive two hundred gold pieces in addition to my gratitude, which is worth considerably more.

"A few blocks from the Basilisk Gate is Elfsong Tavern. A spy named Tarina hangs out there, gathering rumors for the Guild. She owes me a favor, so tell her you work for me. Ask her what she knows about the Dead Three. And, for the love of Balduran, be nice. Tarina has dangerous friends." He stands back, arms folded. "Any questions?"

Shargon is trying hard to control her breathing as she wipes the spittle from her lips as she was already becoming a slobbering mess as she had into full rage. The redness of has vanished from her face as well. She works hard to shake the animal impulses from her arms and the want to strike at something. She has already cause several to probably see doctors from her slamming attacks.

Shargon stood there listening as she cooled off. She is short in words, Tarina it is. She retrieves her quarterstaff as she has put away her greataxe.

Amnon cheers up a little bit at the sound of a covert meeting in a tavern, this is much more his speed. It's almost enough to make him not think about the disturbing reference to collateral damage and the arrest of commoners.

So we are going to the Elfsong Tavern. There we will find Tarina... as a waitress or just part of the crowd?
Tarina can point us in direction of followers of the Dead Three, followers that should be dead as well.

She shutters, blind fanatics are the worst. Being Tyr or Ball those who can't think for themself just ask to be manipulated.

That sounds pretty simple. Even simpler without Flaming Fist garb. Sam removes the Flaming Fist tabard she was wearing doing the scuffle.

Harmony looks around at hose gathered with her. The instructions were clear, but, while she had no love for the cult-like churches of the dead three, it would be difficult for her to slaughter them in cold blood. Thankfully, she realizes, they will likely give her every opportunity to justify putting an end to them.

She looks at the others, and, if they seem ready and able, leads them to the Elfsong Tavern.

You make your way to the Elfsong Tavern, which most of you are aware of. Anyone who has spent any time in Baldur's Gate knows that even though taverns seem safe at first glance, they are actually one of the most dangerous places in the city, full of alcohol, tempting coin, and unscrupulous people. Customers are expected to look after themselves when fights break out, and one shouldn’t expect any help or sympathy from the Flaming Fist. Tavern murders are common, and usually end with the poor victim being dragged away and either left in an alley (to be picked clean by urchins, then eaten by rats) or tossed in the harbor.

You enter the Elfsong Tavern as the sun sits high in the mid-afternoon sky. Immediately as you enter, you notice two bouncers near the door: one is a female half-ogre, and the other appears to be a magically animated suit of armor. They eye you up and down as you enter, but don't stop you. Inside, an elderly half-elf man sits behind the bar while two younger men run food and drink to dozen or so patrons inside. Along the right side of the bar is a sofa, with a large chest containing some games for patrons to use.

The elderly half-elf sees you enter, nods at you, and says "Good afternoon! In for a little shelter from the storm?" The weather today is fairly sunny, so you figure he must be referring to the chaos that seems to be filling the streets.

Harmony looks to her companions to speak. She could be coy and shifty when the need arose, but she wondered if the others were better served for this interaction.

Especially her brother, who seemed at ease with such folk.

Sam walks up to the innkeeper, this is not the first time she has spoken with men like him.
Goodevening good innkeeper. Can I ask you some questions? I am looking for a woman with the name of Tarina

"The name's Alan Alyth, and I'm the owner and proprietor of this here Elfsong Tavern."

He looks at Sam, and sighs at your question. "Tarina. She's around here somewhere." He looks at the rest of the group, raises his eyebrow a bit, and his face gets a little sour as he waves a bony finger at you. "You're not here to cause any trouble are you? I just finished repairing replacing the front windows."