>Meanwhile, in Waterdeep...
The rogues' gallery was full to capacity; the underworld had gathered to discuss the new opportunities which lay before it. The leader of the most prominent faction, the Guildmaster of Thieves, Paran Finehair, spoke to the masses.
>The Red Horde has made an offer.
The room went as silent as the mausoleum it stood beneath; this was the real matter at hand.
>They offer us an opportunity to continue our efforts, provided we pay tribute and pledge allegiance to their city-state.
Jeers, catcalls and boos bellowed out, outraged at this statement. With a few gestures, he gave the indications for silence anew, taking some time to bring the crowd to a semblance order again.
>They offered an alternative, as well.
With that, the room saw a split form in the crowd; a group of red-cloaked men marched in, bearing a pair of large wooden chests on poles, setting them on the floor by the dais the spokesman stood upon.
>They offer the first chest to those who take the offer.
It was opened by a Soviet trooper, his face hidden behind a black mask, revealing a collection of gems, precious metals and rare poisons, each one labeled with a major organizations' name: the Cutthroats, the Rage of Irewood, the Free Blades, the Nine Swords, Kings of the Alley (Waterdeep chapter), many others.
A man in the back shouted:
>What is the 'alternative'?
A few laughs echoed, mostly from those who had not been specifically given a rare enticement.
The red-cloaked trooper nearest the chest opened it.
Out of it, a pair of Drow assassins, known by their works more than their ebon features, rolled out, coated in broken glass, nails, wire, thin leather cord, salt and the carcasses of dead insects stitched into their eye sockets.
>You can take what you want from this chest.. or you can be delivered in the next one.
The rogues' gallery was silent. So much for their hired help taking out the Red Horde's leadership.