"No! Talk to them!" said Tarl firmly. "They must know they're no match for the three of us. We'll be able to find out more by talking."
The orcs pressed forward, shouting in their own crude language of grunts and snorts.
Ren glanced at Tarl as though his head were on backward, but when the orcs came closer, he started to speak first in broken orcish and then in thieves' cant, which they appeared to understand. "Stop right there," Ren threatened, "or we'll bash your heads in!"
The creatures stopped but continued to snort and snuffle and brandish their weapons.
"We're passing through this way. We don't want trouble," Ren continued.
"We kill! No trouble!" grunted the orc closest to Ren.
Ren pointed his short sword at the big orc and said, "I kill you, even less trouble." Ren bared his teeth and clicked his tongue, readying the mare for a charge.
"We no kill! We no kill!" the orc snorted in panic. "Others kill. You worth much gold."
Ren rushed the orc and grabbed it by the neck from behind. Then he pulled his blade high and tight under its neck. "Come again?"
"You same party open up Sokol Keep. Lord of the Ruins want you dead. Offer much gold for your heads. We not take. Others take!"
Ren glanced at Shal and Tarl, who were staring uncomprehendingly at the strange exchange. Ren repeated an abridged version of the conversation to them, then pushed the orc away with the flat of his blade. "Leave us alone and we don't kill you. Touch us or send an alarm, and you die. All of you!" Ren bluffed a charge toward one group, and Shal and Tarl took the cue and charged a short distance toward the other. The orcs fled like kicked dogs into the surrounding buildings.
"They'll alert every orc in the old city the minute we leave," said Ren. "And with a price on our heads, you can bet they'll find enough friends to come back and try again. The only reason they didn't fight now is that they were scared to death. You can imagine how it must've sounded to them when they heard we had handled fifty or so orcs, goblins, and kobolds at Sokol Keep. Even a reward wasn't tempting enough for just six of them to risk a fight."
"I'm not waiting around to be fodder for a bunch of orcs," Shal said. "Let's get to the Cadorna place and find what we came for." She spurred Cerulean ahead across the widest portion of the square, past the well site, and across to the opposite gateway.
Ren reined his mare up beside her and cautioned Shal as they reached the gateway. "We'll find that half-gnoll, if there is such a creature, and we'll find Cadorna's treasure, if it exists. In the meantime, we need to move quietly and keep our ears and eyes open."
"He's right, Shal," said Tarl. "Like it or not, the three of us are wanted by the Lord of the Ruins for what we did at Sokol Keep. We've got to be ready for anything from these creatures. There's no sense in announcing we're coming."
Shal nodded and made sure Cerulean, too, understood the need for stealth. They passed silently into a portion of the old city that had once served as quarters for scholars. Every city of any size had such a place, but the extent of this one made Shal and the others realize how great a city Phlan must once have been. Small tutorial houses lined one entire wall of the immense square. Students trying to keep up with their studies must have spent countless hours in this place, grilling with other aspiring scholars in an attempt to pass the tests that allowed them to enter their chosen professions. Large schools, colleges, and trade houses filled one whole side of the square. At the center stood a huge building, lined with shuttered windows, only its roof damaged from dragon fire. The design of the building reminded Shal of other libraries she had seen, and there was little doubt that the building was in fact a library, but it was much bigger than the ones in either Arabel or even Suzail, the capital city of Cormyr.
Shal halted for a moment, tempted to explore the tremendous archives that remained within the great building. She knew that Tarl shared her fascination with books and scrolls. Who could tell what secrets might lie within those dusty tomes?
When she mentioned it, Ren stared at her in exasperation. "You're the ones who have business in the textile house," he said in a hushed, taut voice. "I haven't had occasion to steal many books in my time, but I'd be willing to bet there's some creature lurking among the shelves who'd make mincemeat of you in a second."
Shal nodded reluctantly, and they continued on, their horses' hooves barely a whisper on the dry, dusty earth of the streets. When they got closer to the wall that, according to the map, separated the scholars' square from the ruins of the Cadorna textile complex, Ren reined the mare in behind some sort of school building and signaled for Shal to follow. Ren dismounted and tethered the mare. Shal and Tarl followed suit. Then Shal ordered Cerulean into the Cloth of Many Pockets.
The wall around the textile house showed signs of gnoll habitation. It was fortified with a tall, makeshift log stockade, with jerry-built towers protruding above the logs here and there. Spikes were pounded into the top of the logs that made up the wooden gate, and an assortment of heads in various stages of decay were skewered onto the spikes. Ren pointed toward the guards manning the towers and then whispered to Shal and Tarl. "Gnolls guard everything, but they're terrible at it. When they aren't sleeping, they aren't paying attention, either. Remember, if we should have to fight them, they're incredibly stupid. They'll line up like toy soldiers before they attack. Just be careful not to get in the way of one of their clubs. They pack a mean swing." He pointed at the ghoulish display of heads. "It's surprising any of those heads are still in one piece."
"What about the half-gnoll leader?" Shal asked.
"If there is such a monster, he might have enough brains and influence to organize their attacks." Ren looked at Tarl. "I don't go for yacking with orcs to get out of a fight, but fighting with gnolls can normally be avoided just by working quietly."
Ren led them to a point between two guard stations. Then he tossed up his hook and rope, and climbed up for a look. The setup looked perfect. A rooftop sloped down from just below the wall, nearly to the ground. He motioned for Shal and Tarl to follow, then slipped silently over the top. Shal hoisted herself up with an ease that belied her size and for just a moment was thankful for the dignity of not being helpless.
Tarl followed, but halfway up the rope, he stopped and plastered himself tight against the wall. The gnolls in the tower to their right were stirring, and one was looking his way. He couldn't know that the uneven rooftop where Ren and Shal were concealed housed the mess where the next exchange of guards was finishing up their meal and getting ready for duty. Nor did Tarl know that, even if the gnolls had seen him pressed flat against the stockade, they would have been much more interested in lunch, Tarl clung to the rope, unmoving, till his arms ached. When finally the two tower guards lumbered down the ladder, not even waiting for their replacements, Tarl could barely haul himself up.
"What took you so long?" Ren hissed. Tarl just shook his head. "See that double chimney?" Ren whispered, pointing. He flared his nostrils and sniffed, a look of revulsion spreading over his face. "We're on top of their mess hall. There's bound to be gnolls inside, so move slowly and quietly." Taking his own advice, he slipped gently down from the roof to a small catwalk between two buildings. Like everything he was able to see from the rooftop, the catwalk was littered with rubbish. Ren helped Shal and Tarl ease their way down, and then he made his way carefully through the piles of refuse.
"If that map was accurate, one of those buildings over there should contain the bedroom we're looking for." Ren pointed across the littered courtyard, where three sentries were dozing with their backs against a timber frame complete with shackles and nails for holding and tormenting prisoners, of which there were none at the moment. "Gnoll justice," Ren whispered with a sneer.