Sleeping Giants Game 6

Intro

Ford's Prize

The stench and dinginess of this place reminds you of your last job. Not of the job itself, which was a simple recon mission. Nor of the night before you left town, when you stumbled upon the newest member of your group. But rather, a rainy evening between the two.

You were walking back to the inn that you and Nil were staying in, carefully moving to avoid stepping in puddles, when you heard a scuffle coming from up ahead. You look up just in time to see a man dressed head to toe in leather armor, bursting from a nearby alley. As he bolts past you, you can hear the chainmail of guards rattling from inside the alleyway itself. They are clearly in hot pursuit.

“Hey, you!” you hear the man yell out from behind you, barely audible over the raindrops. You turn to look at him and he has stopped, but is clearly poised to take off at any second. Your instincts kick in as you analyze every facet of the man. Stained leather armor, several years old. One dagger visible, one hidden on his upper right arm. New boots, custom made, probably the most expensive thing he has on him. Another dagger hidden in his left boot. Brown eyes, brown hair, unshaven. You’d place him at 25 years old, and only a little over 5 feet. Thief kit on his left side, several pouches on his right.

“Tell those chumps I went this way, will ya?” he says again, motioning to an alleyway right behind him. His hands move quickly as he launches a small pouch toward you, the sound of clinking metal coming from within. You catch it deftly, and look back up at the man. He winks, turns, and hightails it down a different alley altogether.

A few beats later, and the so-called ‘chumps’ come rushing around the corner. With no sign of the man in sight, they call out to you, the closest bystander. “You there! Have you seen a man come running through this area?”

You’re no snitch, and you point the guards down the wrong alley. They immediately take off in that direction. You step back against the building behind you, taking some reprieve from the rain to investigate the contents of the pouch. You spill them out into your hand and count 1, 2, 3 golden coins and… what’s this? One of the coins is much darker than the others, and stamped with a sign you’ve never seen before. A closer inspection, and a long sniff, brings you to the realization that this coin isn’t made of metal at all. It’s actually a small, hardened coin made entirely out of, what you can only assume to be human, poop.