Hey!

Harbull searched through a second crate but still no victuals... not a scrap. What were they doing with all these Tilean throw rugs?
He paused for a moment of energetic nose-picking and looked around.
No one but Werner in sight, happy with his brandy.
"Hey, where'd everyone get off to? Should we maybe go have a look... maybe they found the whatsit..."

Harbull flicked away the results of his digging and started up after the others.

Forage! Frustration! Fromage!

"There are some fancy picking's here indeed...", Harbull called to his friend. "I'm not seeing any cheese though... Have you found any cheese? bread? sausages? I'm not believing those fools ate all the food and left the liquor untouched!"

Harbull's horn of plenty

With the unexpected and (so far) bloodless end to their standoff Harbull exhaled in relief... and inhaled with hope of catching whiffs of something edible amongst the recently abandoned supplies. Surely even men of such low standing would not have forgotten to pack a lunch or two?
He left off any consideration of what such lunches might consist of as he strolled over to a nearby crate.
"Now what are the chances of there being a nice big cheese inside of you?"

Meanwhile... Harbull agrees with Johann

"Yeah, I could have a look at him if you like... no promises... but I could at least tighten up that shoddy looking bandage... unless you'd rather have him oozing out all over the floor and needing a chopper to take his leg off... "

***

During those moments of tense quiet Harbull had managed to calm down a bit. Overtures of good will were not likely to shift the mood of such desperate looking thugs... but it was worth a try.

A Bold Plan: On An Empty Stomach

 

Harbull gripped his blade and did his best to look scruffy and mean-spirited... but he had his doubts anyone was paying him any attention at all.
That might be a good thing, since this confrontation was looking to be a bit more evenly matched than he'd expected. Six against eight was not so favorable... and these cutthroats looked quite a lot more capable than the tired and underfed laborers he'd pictured.
If only they could have sat down and had a small dinner before this final, pointy, confrontation... his bravado might have been better fueled... but surely the smell of the place was hard argument against even his appetite.
He began looking for exits to use the moment this whole thing turned against them.
...

It was yet to be seen if Wanda's omens and Malmir's graceful menace were going to convince the thugs towards any action other than murdering them.
Harbull was certainly convinced though... convinced that the cursed gem was something he wanted nothing to do with... and that even now its presumed presence in the room was hard at work towards making his own precious jewels shrivel black and fall off.

A Hive Of Activity: In Too Deep

Harbull nodded... "I'm with Werner... rush in, shout an ultimatum... but prepare for them to be stubborn about it. Hopefully they've got the whatsit and we can tumble out of here straightaway afterward without any more bloodshed."

*****

To himself Harbull thought that the prospect of no bloodshed wasn't looking too damn likely... but at the moment, as long as the blood wasn't his or Werner's he wasn't too concerned. 

The wisest choice would probably be to leave now, get to the surface, make a hasty escape from the city and never come back... not likely to happen though.
If they could get paid and leave town before any serious plays for retribution got underway he'd count himself lucky and do his best to keep distant of any more contracts that involved street gangs and sewers.

Murder In The Dark:

The sudden shouts and clashing of weapons... and spilling of blood... and tumbling head... shocked Harbull little for their brutality, after all he'd been living amongst men for a while now. What had caught him off-gaurd was the cold determination of the waif-girl to drive her knife into the chest of her wounded adversary. That had been... unexpected.

Thankfully Werner was still in one piece... but Johann's cheek looked like it could use tending to. He sheathed his dagger and approached the man...

Refusal!: Pokey Pokey, Stab Stab...

Seeing the others leap forward Harbull followed and took a stance just outside, next to the doorway... ready with his dagger to hamstring any villains attempting to escape.

Refusal!:An Explosion Of Action

At the sight of Kirsten's crossbow releasing it's bolt Harbull released himself loudly and shot to his feet, dagger in hand, ready for action!

Awkward! The Cheese Begs To Be Cut!

Harbull realized a strong need to vent himself as he hunkered down in the darkness... certainly the smell would not be noticed... but then the elf had shushed them (was anyone making a sound? perhaps it could hear their hearts beating in trepidation? Their strained breathes in the mucky air?)... surely it would hear the merest 'pop' and give him cursing glare... so he clenched himself and his dagger tighter... and hoped for the best.

*********

The street urchin was talking to someone now... but through the growing pain of his gas-distended innards Harbull could barely catch a word... it seems she had found someone alive and healthy down in this stink-hole and was chatting them up. He hoped it was a friend of hers... but prepared for the worst.

Honour Among Thieves: Cheese Wheel Of Fate

Whoever had gone at this guy had been quite determined to do him in... the holes were plentiful and deep... reminding Harbull of a large hunk of exotic cheese he'd once seen (and tasted) at his uncle Clumpfoot's breakfast table. Aaaaah... dear uncle Clumpfoot... he always set a fine table. It had been a strong flavored cheese that melted easily and right now he was wishing he had some more of it... and some bread to go with it... oh well.
Unfortunately this fellow here wasn't a cheese and soon wouldn't be much of a fellow either.
A lonely death in dirt and darkness... Harbull briefly pictured the man as he might have been as a child... smiling and playing... unaware of his low destiny.
...
'No. I don't want it', Harbull said to Kirsten's mention of the (soon to be ownerless) crossbow. A good knife and a keen eye would serve him better than that clunky contraption.

Harbull's curiousity regarding the wounded stranger had gotten the better of him at last and he left his post at the door under the guise of ministering to the man's punctures and gouges. Most likely a waste of resources at this point... but maybe not if the fellow let out with a useful bit of information or told a good tale of 'honor amongst thieves'.
Up close the man on the floor didn't look like much of a threat... or an ally.
He wasn't saying much (and, disappointingly there was no cheese wheel...), in the end it might have been more fun to have just hung back and watched Wanda pick herself up off the floor and readjust her demeanor.

More Rooms, More Blood: Harbull In The Rear

Bringing up the rear Harbull was only just entering the room when the shouting began and the lights went flying.
He couldn't see the source of the concern but he did see Kirsten leap at Wanda and take her to the floor... he also saw Johann and the Elf jostling with something... perhaps they'd found some pilfered foodstuffs or a vat of wine? Maybe a wheel of cheese?!!!
He doubted the females were fighting over cheese though...
How long had it been since their fine bit of eating at Herr Oldenhaller's table?
...
No such luck it seemed... just some half-dead hoodlum making an attempt at a last stand.
For a moment he wondered if Wanda had been wounded somehow... but she seemed fine, bruised maybe, but no blood in sight.
He glanced at Werner, standing tall and calm amidst the confusion, before turning his eye back to the path behind them, happy in the thought that his friend was free from harm.

Kirsten Explores: Harbull Ponders The Fates Of Violent Men

Harbull turned to follow the others further into the mystery. He was the last to see the blood, but he smelled it... along with the vomit and sweat and fear. Sadly it came as little surprise to him... humans seemed to enjoy killing each other as much as Halflings enjoyed... not killing each other.
Back in the Moot murder was a rarity... a loud argument would set the rumour-mill churning for weeks... but since going out in the wider world of Men Harbull had seen a Halfling's lifetime of fist fights, knife fights, beatings and brutality of all sorts... maybe even a killing or two (he couldn't be sure). Somehow he'd been fortunate so far and escaped having much of it visited upon him... though he'd been thoroughly threatened, insulted, catcalled and demeaned... asked to cook and forced to dance. He suspected his size and youth bought him a certain modicum of mercy... or something... but Men are impatient creatures and often seemed annoyed at him for nothing more than an innocent question or exuberant laugh.

He'd discovered the best way to move amongst Men was to keep up a sour demeanor and not look them in the eye... and this was a hard act for a good-natured Halfling to maintain.
He'd happily relaxed that with Werner soon after meeting him... these new partners seemed to be friendly as well... except maybe that Elf, weird thing that it was.

***
Harbull took up a similar watch in the new room... watching the way behind them, his dagger in hand.
His head raged with questions but he knew it was best, for the moment, to remain silent.

Harbull kept his eyes down the entryway despite the enormous temptation to watch the human and elf sneak forward into the gloom.
Shuffling sounds and some faint, muffled coughs were the only sounds he could make out... not the screams or sounds of fighting he was dreading.
He shot a quick glance back into the room... everyone staring down the further hall of darkness, except Wanda... she had seemed so sure of herself earlier but now seemed quiet and a bit ill at ease. He forced himself to smile at her before turning back to his post.

Unexpected Discoveries: Harbull Watches The Rear

Harbull remained at the mouth of the room, keeping watch down the way they had come. He suspected little danger to them from that direction and so he allowed his mind to wander... he pondered the possibility that they'd inserted themselves into some sort of ongoing street war between gangs of criminals... that Oldenhaller himself, despite his excellent foodstuffs, was mixed up with the criminal element of this town... that things already were not playing out as they had been presented.
...
With a lowered voice he asked, of no one in particular, "How much should we be trusting what that Oldenhaller fellow told us? His tale seems increasingly... lacking..."

Unexpected Discoveries: Harbull Suspects Foul Play

Harbull eyed the room's disarray.
...
"Either these fellows are VERY bad housekeepers... or someone has ransacked the place... perhaps looking for the same accursed whatsit as we are.", he said. "... or perhaps the Schatzenheimers have fallen afoul of whatever evil haunts the gem..."
"Whichever it is I'm guessing it goes a way towards explaining why no one answered our earlier knocking..."

Into The Asylum: What's In The Hole?

Harbull knelt at the edge of the pit and whispered down to Malmir, "Malmir, are you sure you are alone down there? No snakes? No rats? No big pointy spikes?... If I were building a trap outside my front door I'd put spikes at the bottom... and maybe some snakes... are Elves afraid of snakes?... Not that I'd want to trap Elves mind you..."
...
Harbull looked up from the brink at Kirsten, "So what do you think? We knocked... and... nothing... well, except for the Elf in a hole... but that was after he... HEY! 'Elf In A Hole'...That would be a good name for a kind of toasted cheese sandwich... like with a big slice of bread with a hole plucked out of it and some hot melty cheese dropped in and maybe an egg... and a little bit of bacon. I think it should be a good strong stinky cheese... not that I'm saying Elves are stinky..."

Into the Asylum: The Disappearing Elf Trick

"Lower me down by my legs... maybe?", Harbull asked... "How heavy is an Elf?... He could grab on to my arms... maybe..."
...
Harbull was feeling none to confident about the group's first steps into this affair... or about the concept of being lowered into the darkness with towards the enigmatic... and somewhat impulsive... Malmir.

Into the Asylum: Anticipation

'Hmmmm...', Harbull thought to himself, 'These Elves are a bit more combative than I'd heard... I thought they were all about singing and dancing and counting their magic gold... I wander if this one doesn't show his tail because it's been cut off in battle... maybe that's a badge of shame or something... and that's why he's down here with us instead of in a forest somewhere doing a jig...'

Harbull shot a quick look at Werner... looking for some reassuring glance that might convince him they weren't already in over their heads with this business...
Meanwhile he fumbled at his belt, attempting to ready his dagger... just in case...