With memories of our recent beating fresh in our minds, it was clear that if we had any hopes of stopping the forthcoming ritual we’d need reinforcements. When it comes to the gift of the gab there is little doubt that Aldor and Gustav could talk their way out of a glue spillage from within a locked suitcase in a room with no doors. However it was proven that they can’t always talk their way out of a good hiding. With that in mind Aldor was reminded that a client of his, a Bretonnian Knight was in town (having tourneyed at the Schaffenfest’s Jousts) and would perhaps be able to lend some much needed muscle to their party.
But first things first. A message from Franz Baumann telling us he wanted a word was too intriguing not to investigate. He’d previously resisted our pleas for assistance. But was now offering us a safe house to facilitate our kidnap attempts. As well as providing us with some names. What could have caused this change of heart? Perhaps the bounty that Heinrich had been willing to pay for Franz’s demise? Who knew exactly. But the main thing is he’d agreed to help and strange though it might seem this Thieves Guild Boss appeared to be the most trustworthy individual we’d met in our dealings so far. A testament to the level of corruption weighing down the Bloated Town of Bogenhafen.
So then, now for tracking down this errant knight. Having been hanging around Aldor’s barber shop waiting impatiently for his daily grooming service we found him quenching his thirst and drowning his ‘bad hair day sorrows’ in a nearby inn. A handsome devil and obvious hit with the ladies he certainly had a high opinion of himself and an exceedingly low opinion of Falco. Assuming Falco’s lowly class status meant he’d immediately undertake his squire duties. We humored him (and told Falco to play along) in the knowledge that we needed his fighting skills. It was also deemed probably best to leave out certain of the less noble details of our plan. Namely that we planned to kidnap a high ranking member of Bogenhafen.
Before we could finish our meals though a pageboy arrived with a message bearing the Steinhager seal. It was from Franz Steinhager asking us to meet him at his home on the Adel ring as a matter of the utmost urgency. Without further ado we set off there, pausing only to tell the guards who barred our entry to the Adel ring our reasons for entering. Aldor’s doctoring skills proved useful here. It appears the doctor has a face that truly does open many doors.
Once at the house we were welcomed inside by the same pageboy and ushered into Franz Steinhager’s office. To our horror Steinhager was lay dead behind his desk in a fresh pool of his own blood. A message scrawled in blood read ‘WHOUSE’ (and then trailed off inconclusively to read either number 13 or 17). There was just time to take all this in when the shout of ‘murder, murder’ went up as the pageboy signalled the alarm and alerted the many watch guarding the ring. No sooner did he do so than the very same ‘pageboy’ materialized in the room.
“YOU KNOW YOU REALLY SHOULD HAVE KEPT YOUR NOSES OUT OF BUSINESS THAT DOESN’T CONCERN YOU”…boomed the pageboy who clearly wasn’t a pageboy and with that he vanished again with the sound of his hollow laughter filling the room.
With no time to lose, the majority of our party decided it was best not to stick around to be arrested and so headed out of the room looking for an alternative exit. The barber surgeon failing to recognize the urgency of the situation attempted to first dispose of and then burn the body. But eventually after a failied attempt at arson he too reluctantly fled after his comrades. Finding a rear facing window that overlooked a large garden and high walled fence we made good our exit from the house. As we reached the imposing wall an escape looked bleak. Thankfully our quick thinking Bretonnian knight had bough an end table from the house and we propped it against the wall.
With Gustav and I holding the table we urged the rat catcher over first. He hurled his dog over then attempted to clamber up with all the coordination of a ballet dancing elephant. As he landed at our feet in a heap we wondered whether we should attempt to toss him over like his dog.
Dusting himself off he tried again to reach his grubby mitts to grab the ledge and stood there on tiptoes teetering on the flimsy table held by Gustav and the Knight. Like a comedy troupe of incompetent tumblers we struggled to scramble over the wall with the voices of the guards raising the alarm and getting ever closer. This was not proving to be the best of days..