An Unrequested Gift

Turning Wicker into Gold

A Beggars Chance

Five adventures who have known each other only in passing find their night of revelry and story interrupted by a rather macabre gift. As each had the pints filled, spilled and filled some more, and chorus and song had meandered past their lips, a basket found itself in their midst.

Arahana quickly pulled the basket towards her almost reflexively, her roguish instincts helping mask this unusual occurrence amongst the regular rabble and din found within the Beggar’s Purse. This allowed for the Duskblade, Xanros, or X as he is commonly known, to lift the lid up with a potato infused fork. Roguish instincts were no match for the curiosity of the property realignment expert, who leaned over and quickly removed the wicker lid, while sliding the note off the top. Those at the table leaned in, the rough wood of the table digging in the arms of the bard, not the first time blood would be drawn that night. Staring back at them through a tattered cloth the vacant expression of a bodiless elf.

The stunned silence, more conspicuous than the inebriated dwarf standing on a table pint in one hand, expressive gesturing occupying the other while regaling his compatriots that while the Beggar’s Purse is a great tavern, it holds no burning keg to the legendary Grunt and Pollwart.

The Bard,Durzo and the buccaneer Atherton, notice two off duty guards chasing down pints at the bar. One appears intent on solving the mystery of the bottomless pint while the other, seems to be one of those guards who doesn’t have an off switch. In order to allow Arahana and Varda (an elvish druid) to make an a less than noticeable exit the bard quickly requests a well known verse from his portly compatriot, who offers Durzo a chance to join him in song, but before Durzo can get a stanza in, said Bard fills the air with his ale infused words, something an orc and rebellion and a chicken.

Aharana and Varda quickly weave through the crowd which has joined the Bards in their incoherent tale. As the tune begins to wind down Atherton stands between a human who is dwarf deep in ale and a halfling who holds her liquor and tunes in a similar fashion: poorly. However, in the Beggar’s Purse one’s vocal ability is often based on volume and quickly Atherton has these two leading the encore before subtly bowing out and joining his compatriots outside.

While they missed out on the show and encore Arahana and Verda quickly stashed the basket down an alley. Not wanting her skills to atrophy, Arahana smoothly relieved Varda of a single gold piece. The good natured druid allowed to keep her reward.

Mean while the Beggar’s Purse, its walls made of mere wood, cannot contain the approaching legendary sounds of the bard inspired sing a long as the music forces itself out the doors,windows, and numerous cracks and holes in the walls.

Meanwhile, Varda and Arahana both manage a voice in the darkness gently calling for alms. Kindly giving the man dressed in rags a gold coin before he moved off elated by the generosity of the pair.
Returning to Varda, Arahana looks down to find her generously given gold piece has been replaced with a piece of wicker.

Both Arahana and Varda quickly spot both pieces of wicker and torn fabric after Arahana exclaimed that she was going to sherlock the shit out this.

While the two dynamic deceives were hot on the trail, the men were finally separating themselves from their pints and stumbling out of the tavern, under the guise of drunken revellers. Some say this guise looked a little too authentic. However, they managed to keep in between the watchful eye of super cop and his compatriot allowing the ladies to gain ground on a hobo.

However, the the ladies leading the charge decided to wait for the meandering men after finding the trail had gone dark midway down an alley. After deafly hiding as super cop walked past, soon enough the group was together again discussing the recent events.

Arahana moved down the alley finding the discarded torch and aptly discerning change in stride by the mark, but even the deft eyes of this largely elvish group could not piece together this mystery as the footsteps ended just before the wall.

As they quietly gathered to discuss their options Atherton silently made his way down to the gate, while the Bard leaped up to the top of the wall, briefly grabbing the top which he quickly learned had been infused with broken shards of glass and clay. Both X and Varda had managed to get on the other side of the wall but were unable to spot further tracks.

Atherton’s endeavour only produced 3 bored guards who claimed he was in fact the only person they had encountered on an otherwise long and boring night shift.

Soon, with the adrenaline wearing off, the crew realized that it would be dawn soon, and they headed back to the Beggar’s Purse which was littered with mugs, plates and still drunk but now sleeping patrons.

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