"So if you're not coming with us, and we only find deaders, how would we know they're of yours?" Kilur asked.
"The abandoned monastery was, well, abandoned for quite some time, according to our reports," Desmond said. "If you find a group of robe-wearing humans, alive and well, they're likely with us. If not... I'll leave how to react to you."
Mumbles considered the money offered but couldn't hold his tongue. The offer was damn-near insulting.
"50 skrilla? Mumbles gets paid twice that much for a single show in the City," the half-orc said, adding an inquiry about an advance.
"Oh and," Mumbles added. "It's Mo-Na-Sta-Ry, not Monastery, poet man."
Desmond rolled his eyes at Reinhold. "Do I really need to do this?" Reinhold shrugged.
"Listen here, my half-orc friend, no need to correct my pronunciation. I speak common just fine; you can too without translation. One hundred gold pieces for a single show? Your story's overblown. I've 50GPs for this job, that's 10 for you; jot that in your little notebook, or is writing hard too?"
Brytter slid his chair back in agitation, a loud squeak pierced the room.
"He speaks true, if you were watching us you have a good idea of our financial situation," he said. "I am not sure why you think the mere price of another good sword is sufficient incentive to stick our necks out. Hell, by your own admission, the place is likely to have been stripped clean of anything valuable."
He rose from the chair and headed for the door. Reinhold quickly looked at Desmond.
Desmond's face started to flush. He called out to Brytter.
"Wait, barbarian."
He sighed.
"How about 100GPs; 20GPs for each person," he said. "That can buy you a great sword and then some. Again, I can't vouch for what loot may or may not be at the monastery, but you all are welcome to keep whatever you find."
"I... I think I could use some gold," Mardrey squeaked up. "Mother provides me with everything I need, but she's a bit scarce on the gold."
"100GPs for the group," Desmond repeated, this time looking at Mardrey. "You can get half now, half when you return. Reinhold and I can provide the necessary horses to get you to Brookhaven."
I am still wondering why Mother would have me leave the safety of my grove to answer your calling, Mardrey thought to herself.
"What is it you suspect going on there? Who imprisoned your fellow friars? Do you... suspect anything out of the natural?"
Desmond shrugged. "I don't know, young lady. That's why I hiring you all to find out."
"M-Maybe we shouldn't just do this out of monetary reasons but..." Mardrey said to Brytter. Her face burned red.
*** Nortar's perception roll result ***
Kilur studied the two monks and, with his acute awareness, noticed Desmond and Reinhold had yellow seven-pointed sun tattoos on both of their wrists. The tattoos were difficult to see because of the shifting robe sleeves, but Kilur knew the yellow sun represented The Brotherhood, a secret society of intellectuals, generals, nobles, and others who pulled the strings around the realm. They were nicknamed "monks" because of their robes. The Brotherhood's work often solicited conspiracy theories among the common folk, which was OK, as lies upon lies helped shield the true nature of their work.
Kilur had seen that symbol etched into walls, crevices, glass and other places around the city, likely marking possible meeting locations. He looked around the room and quickly saw faint markings of the symbol over the door and on a few papers that lay scattered on the floor. It seemed this room was a frequent meeting place.
