Fireday the 5th of Vatelion, 2044.
The bizarre events of the day hang in their minds; the pickpocketing, the simultaneous mugging attacks, the proclamation of a new thieves guild. The party return to the cathedral to rest. Xavier mentions that he, uh... found some items that he wants to share with the group. Fair's fair, and one for all, and all that. The finger of suspicion is lifted. Wanda identifies the magical items rescued from the ulcer.

• 200 platinum pieces.
  
• A pick of climbing +5. The handle is plain, but the head is slightly curved and serrated, as if designed to bite into a surface.
• A warhammer +1. The head of this weapon has been expertly shaped into a balled fist.
  
• A hot, broken axe blade. Judging by its weight and shape, this appears to have once been part of a dwarven waraxe. The front half of the broken edge seems to be chiselled flat as if the blade was sundered by another huge, incredibly sharp bladed weapon. The metal along the back half of the break is twisted and fractured, indicating the blade was then bent and torn or wedged apart. But even more intriguing is the fact that this blade radiates heat like a hot rock; it cannot be held in bare hands for more than a few seconds. It must be wrapped in cloth to handle it, and its warmth can be felt on ones back through their backpack. This axe was clearly once magical, and although now bent and destroyed beyond functional use, whatever magics once fuelled this powerful weapon still smoulder at its core.
  
• +1 full plate armour
  
• +1 large metal shield
• +1 longsword
• Boots of striding and springing. Grants +10 to movement speed and jump checks.

Þórhal and Laén discuss the distribution of the aforementioned items, and decide to let a friendly sparring match decide the outcome. Tungdil and Milo decide to go and find a beer. As they step into the main foyer they spot a young street urchin reaching into the donation jar! He looks up, sees the angry dwarf, and bolts like a frightened deer. Milo and Uther follow into the streets, dodging pedestrians, carts and stacks of crates. Tungdil falls behind, however with the help of his new boots, Milo's little feet become a blur across the cobblestones. The urchin scrambles over a pile of boxes. Milo gives a burst of speed and jumps. To his unspeakable surprise the rush of wind fills his ears and the ground falls away below him. Milo ascends to several yards in the air, arcing up and over the boxes, like a halfling cannon ball, then tumbling and wind milling wildly as he begins his descent, finally landing with the force of a hammer into the back of the fleeing beggar. Milo finds a grip, and hangs as they both come crashing to the stones.
Milo pins the beggar to the floor and pries the stolen coppers from his clenched fist. The beggar's name is Midd. He is very sorry about stealing from the donation box, but he was hungry and needed to eat. Midd recognised the dwarf and the halfling at once, and is in fear for his life. He grovels in fear. He begs for his life. He wets himself. He just wanted to eat. He's never had any luck. Life's just not fair.

Tungdil arrives, panting, and sees the flailing, soiled, teary eyed beggar, sighs, and lowers his axe. "It's not my fault! I never wanted to be a beggar. All I want is a chance. One lousy chance." Tungdil and Milo exchange glances. Midd starts to cry. Tungdil pats Midd on the shoulder. "There there..." Midd looks up at Tungdil, his dirty face streaked with tears. "But wait! You're staying at the cathedral, right? Maybe... maybe I could become a monk. You guys are big heroes that they'd surely listen to. That would be so great! Clean clothes, regular meals, health care. I could change my ways. I'd learn the ways of god, and convert. Or revert, or whatever. I'd do it!" Tungdil and Milo carefully step back away from Midd, who reaches out and hugs Tungdil's leg. "Please! You could do that for me. You could give me that once chance I've never had! Otherwise I'd have to go back to begging, and living on the streets, and stealing from the donation box to eat." Tungdil scratches his beard. Milo looks at him blankly.

Milo and Tungdil knock on Cardinal Gleam's door. 'Enter.' They enter, followed by a dishevelled, dirty young man. Glean raises an eyebrow. Things just keep getting weirder and weirder.

And so, the group take Midd under their wing. Tungdil and Milo accept responsibility for him, and agree to pay for his robes. They wash him, shave his head, and start him on the path towards monkdom. They go to bed tired, worn out, but satisfied. Good has triumphed this day.

Wake up. Þórhal opens his eyes. A figure is sitting patiently on the chair by his bed. He sits up. The man introduces himself as Tiremy from the thieves guild. He explains that the existing Thieves Guild has learned of a new guild being started, and that naturally this potential threat needs to be expunged. Tiremy explains that he would be most grateful of any relevant information. Certainly more grateful than if no information were forthcoming. The Guild would see it fit to exchange such information with a suitable reward. It would certainly be in everyone's best interests to find out who is starting a new thieves guild. Tiremy leaves, Þórhal goes back to sleep, and Laén returns to his meditative state.

Waterday the 6th of Vatelion, 2044
The next day they take Midd to see Blind Old Joe, one of Midd's acquaintances from the beggars. Tungdil eventually pays him enough, and the old man tells him that they have been targeted for an attack this evening. Sure enough around lunchtime, a young boy delivers them a note that an informant wishes to meet them regarding the new thieves guild in the Hog's Head inn, in the poor quarter. The party decide to go, but stock up on potions in preparation for an ambush.

The party find the inn at around the appointed time. It's an old beat-up place with tough looking locals drinking at the bar and eating at the big round tables. The door swings open as Milo the halfling strides in a tavern full of human ruffians. The room falls silent. Casually, Milo strolls across the room and sits himself at the bar between the two biggest, ugliest brutes in the bar. 'A beer' he tells the barman. The rest of the party enter and seat themselves at the centre table. They order drinks and Þórhal disappears to the lavatory to relieve himself.

'Hey! What do you think you're doing in our tavern, little man? We don't serve your types here.' The brute to Milo's right shoves him, spilling his beer. Milo shoves back, and the room erupts into violence: Tonight, The Bar vs The Weird Foreigners. Fists fly in all directions. Mugs, ashtrays and chairs are thrown and swung and smashed. Someone gets knocked unconscious.

But not everyone joins the fight. Two groups of reserved looking guests still seated, watching the brawl intently. Then the door swings open and four serious looking thugs enter, armed and armoured, weapons drawn, and death in their eyes. The remaining seated guests pull out weapons. Then they charge.

The friendly brawl has just been upped a notch. Most of the brawlers realise this, make some excuse about it being late, and leave quietly. The party draw steel and fight back, slashing, stabbing and impaling their assailants until none remain. They revive one, but learn only what they knew already: That a halfling is setting up a new thieves guild, and hired them to attack the party. This is leading nowhere. How frustrating.

The party search the bodies, pay the barman something to repair the bar, and leave. *Thud* Xavier gets hit with a poisoned crossbow bolt, but manages to fight off its effects. The bolt seems to have been fired from somewhere far in the distance. Cautiously the party return to the cathedral. They take shifts guarding the door to their room.

At some point during the midnight shift, Þórhal is approached by a small child, who explains he is new to the cathedral and is looking for the bathroom. Thorhal fails to notice the slight strain in the child's voice, nor the fact that the child is studying him intently, and shows him the way to the bathroom. The conversation stirrs Laén into alertness. Something isn't right.

Þórhal points the way. "It's just through that door and to the le... *ghaaarrgh!!*" His front erupts in pain as the child's dagger pierces his ribs, seeking his heart. Þórhal's body fights against the nervous shock that could have killed him instantly, and then once more to reject the poison on the blade. Thorhal roars in pain, and the child sprints across the room towards a large stained glass window, his wig falling from his head. It's the halfling! Thorhal draws his weapon and follows at superior speed, slashing at him several times. Laén grabs his bow and fires several arrows at the disappearing figure.

The halfling sprints towards the window and jumps through it, sending multicoloured shards of shattered glass flying. He mutters something in the air as he falls, and drifts the last few feet to the ground. As Þórhal reaches the window and looks down to see the halfling look back up at him, scowl, then limp into the darkness.

Laén searches the grounds and tracks his footprints as far as the street. The halfling appears to have gone. Priests emerge from their rooms, awoken by the disturbance. Eventually everyone returns to their rooms, and the party pass the night uneventfully.

Iceday the 7th of Vatelion
The next morning Cardinal Gleam speaks with the party and asks them about what happened during the night. They explain what they know, though it appears that the halfling is targeting them specifically for some reason. Gleam is concerned about the safety of the priests, and about property damage to the cathedral. Regretfully, Gleam asks the party to find alternate accommodation for a few days until things quieten down again. The party pay for the repair of the stained glass window and agree. They pack everything into their cart and move out.

As they lead their mule through the streets with their possessions, a rumble is heard high on the roof overhead. They look up to see several large falling objects above their heads, accelerating towards them at the speed of large falling objects. Þórhal, Xavier, Laén and the mule all get hit. The water barrels smash on impact, breaking bones, bruising flesh, and spraying the street with water. Presumably it was the halfling again, however all of the houses on the block are connected, so he could have found any number of escape routes. That said, the party get the feeling that he's not far away. Xavier uses a potion, and although it magically heals his broken rib, he notices the faint taste of bitter almonds. The party arrive at the inn soaking wet, sore, and very grumpy. They check into their rooms, stable the mule, then begin the task of trying to track down this halfling that has been causing them so much grief.

The halfling strikes again as they move through town. They are moving another of Belm's many long, narrow, curving roads when they hear galloping in the distance. An out of control two-horse carriage appears around the bend, heading their way at top speed. The horses are both panicked and franticly cantering as fast as the carriage will allow them. Þórhal, Xavier and Laén climb up drainpipes. Milo performs an almost impossible feat for a halfling, and jumps to grab a 10ft high window ledge, pulling himself up and out of harm's way. Tungdil draws his axe and hacks into the nearest front door, but doesn't quite manage to smash through it with one blow. Tungdil gets pummelled under the feet wheels of the carriage, and emerges dirty, bruised, beaten, and bloodied. They notice that the horses had crossbow bolts in their flanks. The door swings open and an angry resident appears. Þórhal gives the woman some money to pay for the door, and she shuts up and goes away. The party press on.

They find the intersection with two startled owners. Seems that the horses just reared and took off. Luckily nobody was hurt. Tungdil grunts indignantly. The party figure the halfling must be here somewhere. There is an inn on the opposite corner, and Laén moves across to begin searching. A bolt is fired through the shutters on a first floor window, striking Laén in the neck. He grabs his throat and keels over into the street. The party charge inside the inn and up the stairs, carefully pouring a healing potion down Laén's throat as they pass. Laén regains consciousness, but stays in the street, ready to prevent the halfling's escape. The faint after taste of bitter almonds clings to his mouth. Strange.

The party emerge on the roof. There's a 10ft gap to the next building, and a plank has been laid across it. There are some boxes a farther back, and it seems obvious the halfling would be hiding there, if anywhere. Tungdil carefully starts to cross, but thinks better of it when the plank cracks loudly under his weight. He returns down the stairs to the street level. Milo gets across without any trouble, and Xavier and Þórhal jump. Sure enough, as Xavier approaches the boxes a crossbow bolt shoots at him, but is fortunately poorly aimed and glances off his armour. The halfling runs for it, jumping off the roof and activating his featherfall in mid air. Þórhal jumps after him, activating his fall-like-a-rock ability and smashing into the halfling as he plummets to the ground, 40ft below, with a crash.

...to be continued...

• Obstacles Overcome:
  Catching Midd, CR? => 150XP for Tungdil and Milo
  Pub brawl, CR8 => 5400XP/5 = 1080XP (3rd level) or 4800XP/5 = 960XP (4th level)
  Falling water barrels, CR1 trap => 300XP/3 = 100XP for Þórhal, Xavier and Laén.
  Runaway carriage, CR2 trap => 600XP/5 = 120XP
  
  Xavier & Laén = 4950XP + 1080XP + 100XP + 120XP = 6250XP (level up!, 6% to level 5)
  Þórhal = 7386XP + 960XP + 100XP + 120XP = 8566XP (64% to level 5)
  Tungdil = 8373XP + 150XP + 960XP + 120XP = 9503XP (87% to level 5)
  Milo = 7207XP + 150XP + 960XP + 120XP = 8437XP (58% to level 5)
  Uther = 7207XP (30% to level 5)
  Wanda = 8273XP (57% to level 5)
  
  
• Treasure & Balance
  I find that using the treasure tables in the city limits is a bad idea. The thugs from the pub brawl were desperate mercenaries trying to gain entrance to a new thieves guild. I generated the treasure from the treasure tables, and the party ended up with several gems worth 500gp and huge amounts of gold. If the thugs were that rich they could have bought themselves a decent education, maybe a small plot of land, or at least set up a small business. It's more work, but I will generate the treasures myself in future.
  
  
• Big wheels keep on turning...
  These mini-quests are essentially railroad adventures. I lead you into traps, ambush you, snipe at you, drop barrels on your heads, and run carriages over you. There's not much that can be done about it, except to survive and endure until this halfling assassin makes a mistake. I think that many of the adventures in the Echoes of Heaven are fairly linear. But aren't most campaigns that way? What do you think?
  
  
• Fun and Games
  I think there was more in-character roleplaying this session than open-a-can-o-whoop-ass monster-busting. I liked the bit with Midd. There was also a 'sparring session' between Þórhal and Laén to determine who was the greater fighter. I liked it, but I wonder what you all thought of that. Was it boring? Do you want more ass-kicking action in future?