Radiant Cross Hospital

They stepped out of the abandoned building, crossbows trained on the thugs. The one who spotted them first tried to reach for his weapon, but Willard reacted immediately and the man went down groaning with a bolt in his right shoulder. Kept at bay by Matthew's crossbow the two others raised their hands, while the smith fled into the house.

Damn you, exclaimed one of them, what's this all about?

Matthew signaled to Willard to reload, while he kept his crossbow going back and forth between the others.

"Uhhh," Matthew said nervously, "We kinda just want to talk, you know get to know you guys and all." Matthew gestured at their injured comrade, now either you talk about why your here," Matthew's voice started to rise, "Or one of you guys, I don't know who, will get a bolt through their neck, and if i don't like what i hear...then it's going to happen anyways."

Matthew keeping his distance circles around the far side keeping his back to the smithy, while Willard still reloading, kept his to the the abandoned house.

Why, we were just discussing some business with this smith before you just attacked us. We're just simple mercenaries and mercenaries need to buy new weapons time and again. So who are you and what is it you want? one of the thugs said, vainly trying to find some sort of cover from the two crossbows trained at them from different directions. Before Matthew could answer Willard gave him a sign to listen closely and, in fact, the heavy steps of perhaps a dozen men could be heard echoing through the alleys, drawing nearer.

"Well this is just great" Matthew mumbled to no one in particular. Matthew took a deep breath and attempted to think of the best possible way out. Matthew looked at Willard and signaled at the man trying to get away. "Kill him." Matthew then looked at the other uninjured man, and took a shot at his neck. "Drag him into that old house, and find someway to gag and bind him, I'll be right there." Matthew said to Willard, and then entered the smithy with great haste. "They're coming for you, if you stay you will die, we must flee."

Hit by bolts the two thugs went down, dead before they hit the ground. The third one with the bolt in his shoulder gave a cry of horror before Willard got to him and was able to gag and bind him. While Willard carried the man off into the abandoned house, Matthew sought out the smith who was hiding in his house under the kitchen table.

He just whimpered and Matthew had to drag him out of his hiding place to make him move. Finally he reluctantly followed Matthew out of the house, his eyes widening in terror when he saw the two dead thugs in his courtyard,

What have you done? he squealed. They'll burn my house and hunt me down for this!

But Matthew shoved him onward into the abandoned building, where Willard was already waiting with the injured thug. Meanwhile the steps had grown louder and, observing the street through the gaps between the boards on the window holes, Matthew could see approximately ten men enter the scene from one of the alleyways, their crossbows risen in attention, cautiously scouring their surroundings. But these men were not what Matthew had expected. They wore heavy armour, morningstars at their side, and on their breastplates the black gauntlet was clearly visible.

Matthew still looking out the window for any sign that these were legit gauntlets, gestured to Willard to keep watch. Matthew walked over to the gagged mercenary, and drew his knife menacingly with clear intent. He then released the gag, and proceeded to put it around their prisoners crossbow wound to stop anymore loss of blood, even though the loss of blood had stopped and clotted up.
"Now do you understand we mean business?" Matthew said in a somewhat cold voice," We will not tolerate being lied to. So I have three questions and for your sake I hope you answer, because aside from my sarcastic comments, I am a quite merciful man. One, why were you visiting the smith, and the truth please, two can you identify any of the gauntlet out there, and three what is the Red Brotherhood's interest in this?"

For an instant the man just dumbfoundedly looks at Matthew, perhaps pondering his chances of success should he choose not ot answer, but then his eyes glance down at the wolf-headed dagger tied to his belt and sighing he starts to talk:


We were to just sign the usual deal with the smith, some swords, some daggers, nothing out of the ordinary. Before you arrived and started killing people, that is.

As for our interests in this I cannot tell what the intentions of my superiors are. I just receive money and orders and don't ask any more questions.

Before he could continue to answer the other question, Willard spoke up:

I know these knights, Matthew, they're our men.

[...]

Some days later, a knight rushed into the commanding officer's room.

Sir, they're gone!

What is gone? the officer asked, misgivings forming in his mind while speaking.

The artifacts - and the remaining writings! The guards have been knocked unconscious and everything is gone. We found a trail to the cellars and a trap door leading into the sewers we did not know.

[OOC: I will leave this event at this stage until further notice, since its players have obviously vanished. You can always reactivate this event when you find enough players to engage in it. Since it would be quite unfair to give you the benefits of the artifacts while hardly anything has been done for it, while other orders have to fight for their very existence, the artifacts and writings will remain with whoever stole them until you retake them.]

After the alloted period of rest provided to the retainer by his Grand master, Savan took it upon himself to receive orders. This was an important mission, one that could potentially equip the order and give them a huge advantage over the Noldor and other enemies that plagued them. Savan was also hugely interested in this Rinca character, as Savan himself was a smith trained in Mettenheim and felt he had much to learn from this mysterious fugitive. He wished he could examine the armour itself, and he had seen the hammer that was left behind. He went to receive orders from his superiors in the hospital turned chapter house,
"Retainer of the Ebony Gauntlet, reporting for duty" when he spoke his voice had a slight mettenheim flavouring to it, not enough to really call and accent but enough for it to be a safe assumption from anybody that this man had spent time amongst the Mettenheimers.

The officer looked at Savan and raised an eyebrow at his Mettenheim accent. He nodded.

Yes, you might just be the right man for the task at hand. I will equip you with sufficient authority in this matter, so your fellow knights will follow your orders regarding the investigation about the vanished artifacts and documents.

We strongly believe the Red Brotherhood is behind all this, but have not yet been able to establish any kind of contact nor find out about their hideouts. Some of our men, however, have taken one of their thugs prisoner when they paid a visit to a smith in the slums that seems to work for the brotherhood from time to time. The thug currently ... lodges in our prisoner cell here at the chapterhouse. I suggest you start your investigations immediately.

He handed Savan a pile of parchments from his table.

These are all the messages we have so far received from the brotherhood. Perhaps you can make something of it.

Savan nodded, accepting the papers that were handed to him,
"I shall start with our guest first." He declared, turning to walk to the "lodging" of the prisoner. He read the papers as he went, trying to find anything that could help him in this matter. He approached the door of the cell where the Red was being kept, and pushed the door open, stepping inside without even looking at the man. Savan closed and locked the door, turning to the prisoner, with a cruel smile on his face.

The man was chained up at the rear wall of the cell under a small window. His right shoulder was scantily bandaged. According to the reports he had been shot with a crossbow during his capture. When he looked up to him, Savan could see the rather ill colour of his face.

Whaddya want? he asked with a mixture of defiance and exhaustion.

"Information, my good sir" The words sounded almost mocking when mixed with the accent that Savan had acquired from his time over the seas. He walked over to where the man was chained up, and crouched slightly to allow him to look the man in the eye.
"I want to know what you know, pretty simple, right? How about this, tell me everything you might know about some particularly valuable writings, and I won't break your ribs. Sounds fair to me." He reinforced his statement by raising his right hand, which was armoured with an Ebony gauntlet and would no doubt cause a great deal of pain should he strike the man with it.

The man eyed the gauntlet with a fearful anticipation of the pain.

When I was captured, I already told Sir Matthew that I am just one of their hired thugs, he said with resignation. The captains never tell us what they are planning, nor what the others are doing.

A smile crept onto Savan's lips as the wretch in front of him finished speaking.
"Well, that is unfortunate, isn't it? How about this then, tell me where your captains are, where did they hire you, where do they meet?" Savan never took his eyes away from the thug's, it was a show of dominance, of strength and the man would crumble under Savan's rock hard gaze soon enough. "If they don't tell you, maybe they will tell me, mayhaps." and then he smiled.

There is tavern down by the harbour, called "The Boat and Bait" where we used to hang around. Sometimes one of them would come to give us orders, sometimes they only sent a written message. Now please, that is all I ever got to know. Can you tell them I need someone to look after my shoulder?

"There's a good lad." Savan said before standing and walking out of the room. He found a nearby knight and got his attention, "The prisoner is bleeding badly, get a physician to look at his shoulder." and then he made his way to the tavern described by the thug.

OOC: Ebony chainmail obscured by a white surcoat, a black breastplate, plate boots and gauntlets, and a black morion.

Savan pushed his way into the tavern, his chainmail clunking as he walked through the door and took in the sorry sight of the place.

Savan took in the scene before him, choosing to go and sit alone at one of the empty tables and wait it out, looking to see if anyone recognisable as a red came in. He watched the gamblers game to try and pass the time. He wanted to see if this cheater prospered.

When Savan sat down and ordered something to drink the attention he had received quickly faded away and people tended to their own business again. To Savan's discontent no remarkable persons entered the tavern. Meanwhile the cheater seemed to be doing well. Changing the dice earlier had brought him some nice profit and he was just about to do it again. He had caught most of his fellow gamblers in a heated discussion about some irrelevant subject. Savan eyed him, observing how he carefully established eye contact with each of them, making sure they did not look down on to the table. Finally, when he deemed the opportunity good, he casually put his hand closer to the dice and in a quick almost unremarkable movement rolled one of them over, hoping none of the others would have seen it.

But he failed. A fat man with receding hair had by chance been looking at the dice the very moment the cheater changed them and now he jumped to his feet.

Cheater! he exclaimed, pointing at the man. Don't you try to fool us.

He lunged over the table, trying to hit the man, but was too slow. The cheater evaded the blow, yet stil stumbled backwards over his stool. In an instant another man was over him, punching him in the face, but the cheater was quick and retaliated with a kick from below. Men from the surrounding tables got to their feet and a veritable brawl was about to unfold, when Savan heard a clanky sound from the bar. The barkeeper was ringing a large, rusty bell, that might have served as a ship's bell in its better days.

Three men in leather armour stormed into the taproom from a door at the back, going between the brawlers and stopping the brawl before it had properly started.

What's the matter?, snapped the barkeeper.

He is cheating us! called the fat man, trying to point at the cheater while being held by two of the men in leather armour. The cheater vainly tried to wind free of the grip of the third man.

The barkeeper looked unsurprised and addressed the cheater. You know the rules, Steve. The cheater pays for rounds until the money is up and cleans up the taproom. Get going!

Grumbling Steve handed the grifted denars to the men in leather armour who gave them to the barkeeper and started cleaning up the mess of tumbled stools and spilled ale while the rest of the taproom rejoiced at the prospect of free ale and the three thugs vanished back into a room behind the bar.

Savan watched the whole thing play out without interferring, the man had cheated and deserved to pay for everyone. However, the leather bound thugs caught his interest, and once they returned behind the door, Savan walked over to the Barkeeper and inquired about them "Who are those men that came from the back room? I think they may know something of interest to me." He stated matter-of-factly, looking the barkeep in the eye.

The barkeeper looked up shortly from his work, eying Savan distrustfully.

None of your business, he just grumbled and turned back to his mugs.

Savan didn't leave, he continued to stare the barkeep down. "Well, i've made it my business. Do I have to cause trouble to get them to come out? I only want a word, that's all" he made the Mettenheim in his accent deliberately more apparent, he knew the reputation that Mettenheim soldiers had and wished to capitalise on this.