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Garth| AC 13 | Ini: 0 | PP: 12 | Hit Points: 36/36 | Size: Medium | Speed: 30 ft |
 

Not getting any last-minute revelation from the rest of the group Garth enters with others and looks at the rough crowd, near perfect copy of one side of the conflict in the alley. In his thoughts he gives an apology to the guards, they seemed as decent enough sort. Likely not as clean as freshly washed sheets in the upper districts of Waterdeep, but again he was far from a scared tourist too. So he called it a wash.

The second thought was more prayer really, one that he sees another dawn. He takes another deep breath before he pushes Glaive upward with his foot fingers to give it momentum then makes a near-perfect circle curved head colliding with a pitcher on the bar but instead of a crash, the blade neatly cuts through baked clay. Once his weapon falls into the ready state, the only proof of his mischief is a stream of wine flowing through now cut in half pitcher. Not that one could notice it once the wine stops pouring.

There is momentary expecting silence that replaces the surly silence that preceded it. Garth's voice is businesslike "We couldn't reach the consensus on how to approach this so we are being direct. The redheaded idiot was kidnapped from here not long ago, as far as I heard it sparked a bit of misunderstanding between Xanathar Guild and Zentharim. Fortunately, I am just a merry mercenary looking to get paid and not interested in criminal politics. So I want the numbass, preferably alive, who provides me with the info can continue to pout. Others will serve as the second part of this trick, where I cut off the head and it stays on the shoulders." He barely noticeably shifts his balance and adjusts a grip on the Glaive.