Can’t sleep

His dreams had degenerated into nightmares for several nights now but Timm still kept trying to get some sleep. Awake and waiting for the first sign of dawn, or the day’s business starting in this almost subterranean city of legend, the navigator reviewed his list of priorities.

Get the lay of the land, learn what shops are where and who specializes in what, let it be known that he was…they were potential allies to the whole city.


He never had the chance. Up early and out the door to go exploring, Timm hadn’t made it more than three blocks when he felt a slight prick in his neck, then things started to spin, and his knees gave out as he lost consciousness.

Feeling like he had the worst hangover ever, Timm came to bound to what he assumed was a chair with his head covered with some type of bag or sack. Thick enough to block his view, but thin enough to allow him to breathe.

Voices in the room were discussing him. They seemed concerned he wasn’t awake yet and that as far as they could tell, his team wasn’t looking for him, if they had even noticed he was gone wasn’t known for sure. They were supposed to hold him until the (for Mark Stinson to decide) arrived to question him.

Playing Possum

For a moment, Timm considers teleporting away, but couldn’t figure out exactly where he is and so decided not to risk it. And perhaps sticking around and learning what he could was the best option…so Timm continued to sit in the chair, bound at his wrists and ankles, and wait for his captors to realize he is awake.

Eventually they realized he was awake and began with an endless stream of questions. Who sent you, what’s your business here, who do you really work for, what’s your association with Zuc Swain, what’s your association with Professor Alfric Devereux, what's your relationship with Commadore Alloysius Gruf, what gods do you serve, what's your association with the Artisan, what cities outside of the three kingdoms have you been to?

Timm answered their questions a minimally as possible while asking who they were and what other questions they might have. Feigning being frightened and cooperating by all appearances, his captors slowly let their guard down over the course of a few days. Occasionally, after questioning, one of them would leave for a while and return with some follow up questions.

They removed his hood twice a day when they fed him. After a couple days he knew the room like the back of his hand. Even with the hood on, he knew where everything was. His captors refrained from violence, and he knew he could escape when he wanted to and so Timm bid his time waiting to see what intel he could acquire about his captors and those behind them.

< Mark Stinson to adjust or addendum.>

<<The Guardian, Silver Syndicate, Iron Cartel, Guilded Court, and Crimson Shadows are the only factions Timm would really consider joining. Although he would still prefer to be a "friend to all the guilds".>>