Blasphemy & Larceny in Lankhmar

Last night must’ve been quite the memorable evening, if you could remember any of it that is. As the sun is weakly rising above the smoky streets and alleys of the city, you are lying in a back alleyway bordered on either side with squat brick buildings. The smell of rotting garbage, mixed with other measures of the city’s effluvia and a hint of the river Hlal, assails your senses. Your head aches as you grasp for fragments of memory hoping to recall what happened last night. Clutching your purse, you find it to be empty. Of course it is.

 From the mouth of the mist-shrouded alleyway come quiet sounds of a struggle. After a brief scuffle you can make out footfalls dashing away into the fog. Out of the alley’s shadows a figure staggers towards you, one hand against the bricks to help him keep his feet. Seeming to sense you, the figure looks in your direction as his body is wracked by a bubbling, wet cough. You recognize the victim. Vigomia is a local pawn broker and has purchased various “family heirlooms” that have come into the possession of yourself and your fellows.

 He drops to his knees, unable to keep upright any longer. Blood pours from numerous stab wounds and the light is rapidly fading from his eyes; his mouth moves, fishlike, as he struggles to form words. Beckoning you closer he speaks - his pained voice barely audible. “I never should have brought you here, no matter how rich that gods-cursed altar treasure is.” His eyes glaze and Vigomia goes still for a moment before continuing. “Beware…beware the hungry tears.” He looks you directly in the eyes, and will never look away again.

 It is the Year of the Worm, Month of the Serpent, Day of the Scorpion and a very bad morning to be Vigomia the pawn broker.