Chapter 3: To Catch a Thief

Tailor sits in the Hall of Justice with Taal sleeping next to him - well, cat napping, as an ear turned in Tarna's direction when she spoke.

How do you expect us to get into Zanathars gang? Let alone near Xanathar?

The huge Lynx, Taal, sits up now that Tailor speaks. Tailor Rose is a 16-year-old human boy from Waterdeep with tousled brown hair, lively blue eyes, and an energetic, curious spirit. Standing about 159 cm tall, he wears a light brown leather chestpiece under a blue open robe, paired with a simple cap slightly tilted over his forehead to half-hide the faint magical glyph he shares with his eidolon, Taal. A small pouch hangs from his belt, carrying tools and trinkets from his work auditing magic shops with his father.

Though young, Tailor carries himself with a mix of cleverness and mischief, often flashing a crooked smile as he experiments with magic or teases his lynx-like companion. Despite his playful nature, there’s a sharpness to his gaze—trained to spot magical flaws and hidden details—that hints at a precocious understanding of the arcane world.

Wandering around the Hall finds our young Waterdhavian noble.

Darvin, Darv to friends, stands just about five feet two inches tall, wearing a brown cloak over what looks like scale mail sized food a small person, perhaps even a halfling.

Hi, friends. My name’s Darvin. Call me Darv. You seem like the adventuring type. Do you have room for one more?

Airn rolls his eyes at all the positivity. "You know there's probably going to be a fight, right?" he says, scoffing at the others' attitudes. "I doubt you could even take a punch. You'd better let me come with you." He's wearing simple clothes, a few scrapes and bruises, and a black cloud for a mood. "What are these rumours about this Xanafart that make them so scary? They eat too many baked beans?"

Crow was just listening and learning. He was leaned in a shadowy corner, nursing the wound on his right arm. The bloody bandage had dried and it was nearly healed. He was reading, or at least had been reading from a book "How to be Evil," opened the book to Chapter 7 titled "Advanced Evil: Kicking Puppies and Burning Orphanages." He had since stopped reading and was listening to the newcomers.

Something had changed in him, listening to these, kids. He knew he had crossed a line and there was a distinct difference now. He finally understood the lessons on the importance of innocence, too little too late.

Only yesterday Crow had been an orphan boy. Now, he had killed half a dozen people. Evil people to be sure, but people. "What does it make me? Killer of killers. Man or monster?" the dark thoughts had ruined his mood.

He found his thoughts wander to his mother, wondering where she could have gone. If she knew that leaving him to the temple as a boy would lead him to this path. Did she even care?

"Happy birthday, Crow."

Trig looks up at all these big kids - they're all nearly adults! - with a bit of anxiety. Sure, she's older than most of them, but by gnome reckoning, she's still a little girl. "It...it seems to me..." her voice comes out a squeak and she clears her throat and tries again. "It seems to me that most of us - you four, anyway - are big enough to pass as grown-ups. We could be snitches, scouts, runners, couriers...any big gang needs those, and there are no gangs bigger than Xanathar's."

"Maybe I should be your "highness", short stuff," Airn says to Trig, and laughs at his own joke. "What are all of you all about then? What's Xanafart got to do with all of you? Why not let the grown ups deal with this and we go have fun"

Darvin also wonders what all the fuss is about! He replies to Trig, saying,

Oh, silly gnome! I’m not a grown-up, I’m still just a boy! I have a good way’s to go, to one day become a big strong knight!

I’m not much a sneakster, but I have been mentored by a halfling, and they’re given to such things a lot of times. So maybe I can fit in ok.

Crow at the mention of Undermountain perked up a bit. He knew about The Yawning Portal, Haleen had made a name for herself at that very place when she had been his age. He reasoned he needed to brush up on his undercommon and tried to recall where he had seen the primer for it in the Annals.

He considered the other youths and their cheerful dispositions. The City of Splendor's was so diverse and rich of culture but they seemed so naive to the call they had taken. Moreover it seemed strange again that no adults had taken the call. Had the War really depleted the North so badly?

Crow signed something to the Justice in the subtle secret signs that the faith militant used. Though he hadn't formally been taught, ten years as their ward and he had figured out even the subtlest nuances of their code.

Taal nudgets Trailor. She thinks you cant do it, that you are just a kitten.

Tailor steps forward We are not kittens Justice Darkhaven. But if you have a better suggestion, let us hear it

Crow grimaces when the Justice speaks of being a ward to the church. It was worse in his opinion than slavery and he hadn't ever been afraid to show that. To belong was to be owned. And when the God of righteousness was your owner, to be against that was a sin.

"I will take care of them." He left the alternative fate unspoken not wanting to seem too grim.

He signed again to the Justice. "I have been of service. I will serve."

Trig notes Airn's title of "highness," and admires Taal. ::Another pretty cat!:: she thinks to herself. ::I think cats are my favorite!:: Koko shifts uneasily on her head. ::Second favorite, after crabs, of course!::

Trig starts to bow to the Justice, then vaguely remembers that that's not right, and tries to attempt a curtsy. Somehow she ends up facing the other way. She shrugs and responds to Tarna. "Yes, let's go!" She tries another curtsy, this time to Airn, and it's little better than the first. "After you, your highness!"

Airn watches the back and forth with intetest. He hoped it would degenerate into name-calling and fighting, but was a little disappointed when everyone was just polite.

"I think we should go, this place is too nice," he says. Do we get a lunch bag oe something beforw we go? Being out on the streets will give a kid an appetite.

Darv readies small-sized sword and shield! Gear bequeathed to him from his halfling mentor.
I am ready to help, he says in a calm juvenile voice.