Haligoth Streets


You leave the tavern with the overweight owner glaring and practically shoving you out the door while your greasy captive unravels a quilt of expletives even the former soldier Jason finds impressive. Taking alleys in this city in no way means you aren't seen. Many streets here are small and dirty and you catch a number of shady instances; coins and cloth-wrapped items changing hands, low conversations between hooded figures, and several backdoors swinging open to allow quiet exits for men and women leaving gambling halls or brothels.

You don't make it. A pair of town guards sees the angry man amid an armed party and intercepts you with weapons ready and Official Glowers at full throttle. Waving your charter letter and claiming guild business is pretty much enough for them, however. They step back, one speaking to the other in a low voice in Estwilde as you pass.

Back at a private inn room, having made quite a ruckus in front of dozens of evening diners and drinkers, he says, his voice really shaking now, "Just what in the bloody Abyss do you want from me? Why drag me along through the city? Trying to make some point, showing off for the Sunset Guild? You're a bunch of thugs... you're not gonna kill me, are you? Oh, have mercy. You - draconian - you wear the medallion of Mishakal. Mercy, please. You can't just go killing a fellow."