Acquisitions Incorporated: The H Team.
Chapter 1: Waterdeep! The place to be!
Four long months on the move. Four long months since departing his private tuition at the time of The Melting. Almost a month spent crossing the Sunset Mountains leading to Scornubel. Traveling free as a guard on the River Chionthar questions were asked about his appearance. His tenacity and clear thinking overshadowed them. Single-handedly blunting a raid by lizardfolk on the River Chionthar saw him hailed as a hero.
Finishing the run at Baldur's Gate with a large sack of coins he bought passage to Waterdeep, the City of Splendors. Finding a den of traders he blended into their attendant scum to study the prey he'd come so far for: Acquisitions Incorporated.
Five minutes later he'd learned of the destruction of their Waterdeep office. In two days he learned the Eladrin was nowhere to be found, the half-elf was believed dead, and the human mage was re-directing his mail interdimensionally. What he did not expect was that the dwarf he had been looking for was dead.
Binwin Bronzebottom was dead, and it had been a long time since he'd been alive.
The Bronzebottom Memorial Booze and Beatings Barn was one of the few things Acquisitions Incorporated hadn't lost. It was an old alehouse that had repurposed it's courtyard into a combat arena. It was open at most hours of the day and had a regular flow of patrons and an almost-as-regular flow of clerics. (Cheap drinks outperformed the Affordable Cleric Act.)
The smoked glass didn't attract attention. The custom weapon didn't attract attention. What raised eyebrows was the clean-shaven chin that he presented to the world. Every dwarf in the bar (easily a third of the customers) was slack-jawed and everyone who worked or lived with dwarves (everyone else) looked surprised.
Approaching the bar, he asked for a glass of fruit punch. The click of neatly-stacked silver on the bar was audible in every part of the room. The people training in the courtyard were pressed against the windows, their faces painted in expressions of stark disbelief. The half-orc behind the bar blinked, unused to formal, un-slurred speech and even less so from a dwarf in armour that wasn't in the City Watch.
The unnerving part was the silence and patience. He calmly waited, his body language showing only indifference to the time taken to ready the drink and hand it over. As he downed the drink the silence was interrupted.
"hhHEY. When did this pub start serving THAT?!"
It was a drunk human in the livery of one of the richer noble houses. His features were those of an aging man who'd racked up scars and then laughed them off. His prosthetic arm glowed with symbols leeching magic from the space around him. He made a grab for the pinkish yellow glass of fruit flavoured sludge and suddenly found himself stumbling and then on the floor as the dwarf resumed drinking.
"hhHey!" He called from the floor. "I'm trying ta take that drink and humiliate you." Two other enforcers in similar garb moved in with their hands on their weapons. The beardless dwarf finished the drink and moved his left hand onto his weapon.
"Hold it right there!" Thundered a voice with a dwarven accent. It was accompanied by a solid thump as the half-orc from behind the bar thumped a heavy wooden club on the bar as a dwarf with a silk cummerbund, clean shirt and a large emerald ring walked around to assess the potential violence.
"If you want to challenge someone to a fight there's a two drink minimum and you still have to take it out into the training yard." He flinched as his gaze took in the figure before him. "... You know what boys? Drag this honourless freak into the yard and beat him within an inch of his life."
The patrons of The Binwin Bronzebottom Memorial School of Booze and Beatings expected a struggle to get this beardless dwarf to the door. They expected shouting and protest. They expected anything except what happened: The beardless dwarf opened the door to the courtyard and patiently waited in it's centre as he drew his weapon.
The weapon was a moderate length tube with short spikes on one side and a handgrip on the other flanked by what looked like a metal guard that was full of holes. The hilt was carved as a handgrip that allowed one to hold it solidly from two different angles, yet the most interesting thing was the sides of the tube. It was made of joined metal plates, with a latch on the side.
As he stood there waiting for his assailants, there was the sound of discreetly clinking coins being put onto tables, almost covered by muttering of bets. The three enforcers walked heavily out into the yard with their melee weapons, City Watch maces with rounded edges. Killing someone with one of those took deliberate effort.
"nnNow, you gonna get eet!" The drunk with the prosthetic arm slurred as he raised his weapon, running at the dwarf before him as the other two enforcers advanced steadily behind him. His first blow was side-stepped, followed him drawing his arm back for a solid punch only to find himself again on the floor from a flourishing kick from the dwarf.
This opened the space for the two enforcers to close in, one on each side of their fallen comrade. The dwarf gripped the weapon in his left hand, pommel-up and exhaled as he listened to his opponents steps. He heard the intake of breath before the attack came from the left and parried it down, onto the unyielding arm of the prone drunk enforcer. When the second blow came from the right there was a sharp crack, accompanied by the smell of acrid smoke and a sharp cry.
Rolling backwards, the dwarf seemed to compress his weapon and it kicked out a metal chip that looked like a Waterdavian thumb. It was caught before it could hit the ground leaving the opening the human enforcer needed to bring up his elbow to the dwarf's face. The blow landed with a crack, and the dwarf took it unflinchingly, his head barely moving.
The crack was the sound of the frame holding his smoked glass breaking. The thin frame was only holding onto his nose and right ear now, the lense dislodged onto the ground. The dwarf went to bring his weapon to bear only to hear a loud metalic clang.
"ttThat's not gonna work. This arm steals magic!"
The dwarf's single visible golden iris contracted as his weapon made another sharp crack and spat out another metal chip from its side. The staggered enforcer went down amidst smoke, confusion and groaning from his fellows.
The dwarf rendered the drunk enforcer unconscious with a punch and walked towards the bar, as coins were swept off tables with mixed cursing. The door opening was the only sound as he walked straight toward the bar's owner and took off his glasses. He opened his yellow eyes and drank in the shock on the man's face.
"I'm Corwin Ambershard." He smiled in a way that the bartender felt uncomfortable with. "I hear Acquisitions Incorporated is hiring."