“Look, I know a guy…”, Trust started before Hundan cut him off with a wave of his meaty hand.
“Just go find your contact and get us some work. I don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to.” As he spoke, Hundan scanned his eyes over the throngs of peasants spread across the plains just outside the east gate. He knew even though they were hard at work – doing laundry, mending their implements, cooking meals – each and every eye was on their group as they made their way towards the city.
And why shouldn’t they be? Hundan himself was a rare sight in these lands, towering over the humans with his nine-foot frame and his massive musculature belying his mixed ogrish parentage. Ironically in a less-civilized city he’d have been run out of town by now, but in Baldur’s Gate it’s money that brought civilization – and money, as they say, is raceblind. Of course, the humans have all the money, and if there’s anything they love it’s lynchin’ a halfbreed. As he surveyed his escape routes and kept a wary eye for potential enemies, Hundan reflexively rubbed the massive scar across his throat.
The group shuffled into the city past the guards. Trust in the lead – of course – his gleaming smile, smooth skin, and fine clothing making him look all the world to be a successful and wealthy human from… somewhere? Certainly not like a street rat orphan from Waterdeep, run out of town at the point of a sword. Isn’t that the wonder of the world though, a reptuation follows you but only ever so slowly. A new town, a new face, and a new chance. Of course, it helps substantially if you are a changeling and actually able to alter your appearance at will. For Trust – is that even his real name? – it’s all about the game of living well, and he certainly lives well. Of course, it’s worth considering that too might be an elaborate lie.
Hundan came next, hunched over both to fit through the human-sized door and to make himself appear less threatening to the more junior guards. He looked down, avoiding eye contact but kept himself ready as they tightened their grip on their halberds. Fortunately, Fancy marched just behind, distracting them with his muttering and raucous conversation. The dwarf’s plate armor clanked against the veritable general store of spelunking and treasure-hunting equipment draped across his backpack. He was filthy, but not nearly so much so as his conversation partner, the crippled Xebes. The hunchbacked shaman dragged his club foot along the ground, hobbling through the gate while making bets with Fancy as to the various deaths and fights one could expect to see in such a large city. His visage was horrible to look upon, pathetic and disgusting and the guards waved him through only the most cursory of glances.
Nelson brought up the rear, in a way the most normal of the group. Though human, with his young looks, five-foot stature and mysterious charisma he could almost pass for a tall halfling. Equipped with a simple sword and breastplate, he in fact was such the typical dungeon-hacking, orc-slaying adventurer that the guards examined him even more closely as he passed.
Baldur’s Gate was a city Trust knew well, or at least he was able to fake it. He led them to a decent inn near the center of town, a neutral ground where deals are done and money is made. As the group approached the saloon doors they burst open, and a pair of humans came flying out into the street, bruised and broken. Behind them a massive wall of a dwarf pushed a fiercely angry lizardman onto the porch.
“You’re banned for one week”, the dwarf said as he pushed the lizardman aside and stepped into the street, “and as for you boys, next time you have a problem with somebody, you can have it outside.” He punctuated this by giving one of the men a kick in the ribs with his plated boots. It ended in a sickening crack. He turned around smartly and marched back inside. Once the dwarf had passed back into the bar, the lizardman reached down to his belt and unsheathed a wickedly curved dagger and walked slowly but intently toward the humans as they limped away into an alley.
Fancy and Xebes quickly came to an agreement as to the odds on each party and resolved to check the alley later to determine who would win the bet
“Civilization, feh. What a pile of gou shi.” Hundan mused as they walked up onto the porch.
Trust looked back for a moment, “Ah, but there’s money to be made in a place like this. You’ll see.”
Somehow Trust’s beaming smile didn’t reassure Hundan of much. In fact, it only made him more uneasy.