Red Sashes and Pest Control [Adventure | Closed]

Summers in Waterdeep were usually rather comfortable, a great excuse for citizens and visitors alike to congregate outside and enjoy the many amenities the City of Splendors had to offer. Festivals were in abundance, making the streets busier than at any other time of year. It tended to be a fine time for tourists, natives looking to cut loose for a while, and for pranks or drunken antics to flourish. Of course, pickpockets flourished as well, but oddly enough the predictable crime wave didn’t seem to be a significant deterrence. Perhaps it was considered an acceptable risk, for any complaints were usually eclipsed by those clamoring for even greater spectacles.

However, sometimes the summer weather was considerably less pleasant. When warm winds from the south lingered, a heat wave lasting for days or even weeks was the unfortunate result. Unaccustomed to the heat, northerners avoided the most intense hours and outdoor activity in the city slowed to a crawl around that time. This was the current state of affairs for the past three days, with no sign of relief in sight. People found relief wherever they could, from the shade of an awning to a festhall to even preferring the cover provided by the sewers below. Some temples opened their doors to those in need of cool fresh water, and those not caring if the price was a sermon or such weren’t shy about taking the charity. 

It was during such circumstances that a trio of urchins approached Kieran’s training hall in the Dock Ward one late afternoon, hands and mouths a little sticky as they raced against time, trying to eat their popsicles before the frozen treats melted in the summer heat. Normally, they would have to concentrate on dodging carriages and foot traffic, but that was much less of an issue today. The only people outside were those visiting from the south and thus acclimated to the heat, or those who had no choice but to bear it. For whatever reason they had to be roaming around, the children did so as only a Waterdhavian urchin could manage, knowing exactly what alleys to take and which to avoid, and what avenues would afford them the greatest amount of shade. 

One of the two boys was a portly, dark-skinned human, his somewhat darker hair cut almost down to the roots. Despite the heat, he was wearing patched robes, a toy wand held in place by a frayed belt. The hand that wasn’t clutching the popsicle clung to a stuffed owlbear. By contrast, it was much cleaner and less worn than anything else the boy owned, a source of pride.

The other boy was markedly more slender, with red skin a few shades darker than Warden’s, and other obvious signs of tiefling heritage. His left eye was covered with a black eyepatch and he sported a toy bow on his back, along with a quiver filled with toy arrows. He kept trying to make his frayed cape billow ‘dramatically’, but there was no breeze to oblige him, so he settled for snagging a stick and dragging it across every surface he could find.

The final, and tallest, of the trio was a young human girl with unkempt dark hair that flowed freely and similar patched clothing. She had a wooden sword at her hip, stained in places but otherwise as functional as a toy sword could possibly be. Her dark eyes roamed the street with more care than her companions, and she set the pace for them all, always at the forefront. When they reached the door, she gestured for the tiefling boy to drop the stick, before knocking firmly.