Shadow in the Gaslight [Private]

[Erasmas]

Meeting with the Whitechapel Wights
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v71/Erasmas/Misc%20Games/Gang3_zps6c6d79f6.jpg~original

Cleeson returns to the King's Head at the dead end of St. John Street, only mildly surprised that he was allowed to enter without even being slowed or bothered by a single soul. When you entered, you saw Fowler and McHickie seated in a back private room with the door wide open. The other patrons in the bar looked up as the older man swaggered in and a hush fell about the room.


http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v71/Erasmas/Misc%20Games/KingsHead1_zps22c37067.jpg~original

Battle Chart


Init
Name
VP
WP
Notes


27
Bruiser2
28/28
18/18



25
McHickie
55/55
16/16



24
Fowler
55/55
16/16



18
Bruiser1
28/28
18/18



13
Lackey3
Minion
Minion



11
Lackey2
Minion
Minion



10
Lackey1
Minion
Minion



9
Lackey4
Minion
Minion







Harry Fowler
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v71/Erasmas/Misc%20Games/FowlerHarry_zps83d956ff.jpg~original
Stephen McHickie
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v71/Erasmas/Misc%20Games/McHickieStephen_zps4f818d9d.jpg~original

[pife]

Cleeson walks confidently, though not arrogantly toward the table that the two gang bosses occupy. Stopping several feet away, he begins gruffly with, I'm needin to talk to ye, private-like, if ye've got a moment teh spare. It could be important. While he keeps a close eye and a closer ear on what those around him are doing, he very intentionally does not make any overtly offensive or sudden movements, and attempts to maintain a placid demeanor.

[Erasmas]

McHickie was rolling a couple of cigarettes, the tobacco and papers laid out on the table as he was near completing his third one. Fowler, once again, spoke, "Back so soon? And this time without the locals, eh?"

Two men stop you at the doorway to the private room, using their bodies to block your path forcibly in necessary. When you ask to talk to them privately, the one called Harry Fowler examines you from where he sat for a long moment, before nodding to the men that had barred your way. One of the men begins to remove your guns from their holsters, disarming you in a non-threatening way.

"'Tis a necessary precaution, old boy.", Fowler explains. You had a feeling that it might be a condition to the privacy of this meeting you were wanting.

[pife]

Cleeson endures his disarming with relative equanimity, perhaps rolling his eyes just a bit at the production they make of it. Ye'll be wantin' to watch out fer my c*ck as well then, laddy, if yer afraid of big dangerous weapons. But I'm not here to make trouble. Take the blasted things if it pleases ye. I'll be havin' em back when I leave.

Trying to help out, Cleeson even removes the wickedly sharp Bowie knife from it's sheath and drives it into the doorframe. And then pulls stick after stick of dynamite out of his voluminous coat pockets (six in all, and yes, I paid for them, lol). From the pocket of his overcoat, he pulls a half-empty bottle of rotgut whiskey. This he doesn't hand over, instead pulling the cork from it with his teeth and taking a big slug from the bottle before replacing the cork and holding the bottle in his hand.

[Erasmas]

"Older weapons like that do tend to misfire, from what I'm told.", McHickie says coolly as smiles at his own jest and lights up one of the cigarettes while the others gathered join in on the laugh at your expense.

The two men finish removing the various guns and the explosives, though their eyes betray their shock at your possession of the latter. Fowler shakes his head and only mumbles, "Bloody Americans..."

Once you had been disarmed, one of the men pulled you knife from the doorframe and they all departed the room, except for Mr. Fowler and Mr. McHickie, who remained seated. The other boys shut the door behind them and left the three of you alone to discuss business.

"Alright then. What is this important thing that you need to tell us?"

[pife]

Alright, ye lost another one, right? Cleeson pauses for a moment. Annie Chapman? I knew her. And when I say that I mean.. I knew her. Right fair lass, she was, didn't deserve that. None of em did. Cleeson grimaces. Point is, before now, I was lookin into this matter cuz they was payin' me. But ain't nobody gonna ever say that Cleeson Carson don't give a hoot about who he dips his wick in. Now it's personal. Them other folks I was with, they mean well, but they've got that hoighty-toity typical Brit stick up the arse, no offense. You and I, I think we can get down ta' brass tacks. So? Cleeson looks them both square in the eye. Ye willin' ta work with me, and get this bastard strung up, so's he can stop slicin' up yer girls and tenderizin' yer boys?

[Erasmas]

"We aren't no bloody Brits, for fook's sake!", McHickie proclaimed, tightening his fist that you could see until the knuckles turned white.

Fowler, leaned back and placed his hand on the other man's shoulder, trying to reassure him. It looked like the one with the shorn head had a bit of a temper about him.

"Aye, we lost Annie. And you're right... nobody deserves what's being done to our girls, 'cept him which been doing these things. But it's been personal for us from the get-go, boy-o, and make no mistake about it - when we catch up with the sick bastard... he's gonna get what's coming to him. But like I told you when you were in here with you other pals... we've told our boys to let you pass unharmed. I don't see what more your wanting from us. So, best be cutting through the pleasant-talk and spit out what it is that you have to say."

[pife]

Cleeson leans forward in his chair, the stench of whiskey and sausage heavy on his breath. He fixes them both with a stare that brooks no argument. I mean to help you give it to him, legal or not. Ye may not like me, I'm a Scot who spent the majority of me life in America, neither of which makes us chums. Fer myself, I think yer not much more than jumped up little small time thugs, smell like cabbage n' too many beans. But I don't think yer stupid, no, that I don't. I think ye'll be smart enough to figger that I can be more of a friend to ye than yer lettin' on. Ain't no ladies in here ye haveta puff up for, ye peacocks. I'm tryin'ta help ye, damn ye. Smart man takes the hand he's dealt and makes a winnin' hand w'it. I'm the ace up yer sleeve. Cleeson sits back, gulps another slug of whiskey and sets the bottle roughly on the table.

He reaches into his jacket pocket, and pulls out a battered pouch of tobacco, tossing it onto the table so that it slides to their side, between them. Right then, McHickie, roll one o' those up and light it, if ye'd be so kind. That there is what the bastard smokes, and I'll be bettin' that ye've not smelled it's like, or often if ye have. Now, you let yer boys get a whiff o that, maybe yer girls too, and chances are, whoever they smell it on is someone they'll wanta be watchin, eh? Cleeson grins, a wicked, Cheshire Cat grin. Two places in town sell the stuff, that's it. Two. I figger, you got enough boys ain't got nothin' ta do, maybe even a coupla urchins who nobody notices.. maybe they hang around near them shops, see who buys the stuff. Maybe you and me, we go to these places and talk to the owners, see who HAS bought the stuff. Eh?

The stout old bounty hunter-slash lawman folds his arms, waiting for a moment.

Second thing I wanna talk about. Ivy Carson. She's kin t'me. She sez she's gettin' married, but that's a lie, she just wants out o' this ****ehole. I reckon you ought to let her. But I ain't one for mincin' words or tellin' fibs. Cleeson digs once more into his pockets, and stacks fifteen pounds on the table. Figger it would take her a long time to earn ye this much. Be awful neighborly of ye if ye didn't hassle her no more. I want her outta this line o' work, she's still young and perty enough to hook her a good man, if she tries. Like I said. She's kin, and I know you respect that, at least.

Now, I'm gonna make you another deal. Yer gonna keep me in the know of anything you find out or figger out about this kerfuffle. In return, if there's summat' you want to know about what the coppers are doin, you let me know, and I'll do my best to find out for ye. Might even be able to spring a chap outta the klink, if it comes down to it. See, ye WANT me on yer side here. I don' play favorites, and I don' play by the rules. Get in the way, don't they? Oh, by the way, it ain't the Jew, if yer wonderin'. 'Nother thing. Don't know if the papers say so, but at least this last time, he was wearin a top hat and a cape, smoking that tobacco there. Don't go jumpin' any old gent wearin fines that don't fit in here, or smellin' like that, but hey, keep yer boys on the lookout for it all the same.

[Erasmas]

"Are all Americans so forthright with their negative opinions of the people they plan on trying to persuade?", Fowler replied to your opening remarks, looking disapprovingly amused, as if what he was hearing wasn't even real.

"He's got a set of brass balls, I reckon.", Stephen scoffed.

But they listened anyways, taking in what it was that you had to say. When you handed over the tobacco pouch, the stubble-headed man took it up and whiffed it before putting a healthy pinch of it into the crease of another paper. Rolling it deftly, he licked the paper and sealed it. Then, leaning back in his chair, he struck a match against a strike plate that had been mounted on the wall behind them and touched the flame to the end of the cigarette. That familiar scent soon filled the small private room that you were in, the smoke clinging to the ceiling like trapped clouds with nowhere else to go. He smoked, sharing it with Harry as you continued to feed out information pertaining to this killer on the loose.

"We'll scratch around and see what we can find out about this Black Stag, the places that carry it, and who is buying."

As you brooch your second topic, revealing that Ivy had lied to them about getting married, McHickie nearly blows his stack and starts to rise from his seat. It was as if he was expecting to leave the bar and find Ivy standing just outside, ready to put a hand to her. "Bloody hell, Stephen. Give it a moment, ay?" The larger man's anger seems quelled by the stack of paper you pull out of your pocket and count out onto the table. McHickie eyes the money; Fowler eyes you.

"I imagine there's more where that came from, Harry. Why don't we just take this gray ponce and keep the lot?"

Putting out the butt of the Black Stag cigarette, he smiles. "Because we're making friends, Stephen. Now, friend...", he says as he reaches over and ceases up the fifteen pounds and tucks them away.

"... Ivy... Miss Carson, that is... has two days to leave Whitechapel. None of my boys will even so much as lay a finger on her in that time. She leaves, we don't follow her outside of Whitechapel or Spitalfields. After that point, if I see her on my streets again, our little arrangement is null and void and your kin never sees the light of day again. I think we understand one another."

"Well, sir, I think that wraps up our most profitable meeting."

The doors to the private room open once more and the same two men enter and stand on either side of you.

[pife]

"Are all Americans so forthright with their negative opinions of the people they plan on trying to persuade?", Oh, I'm not a diplomat, but neither are you. What good would it do me to try not to ruffle yer fragile feathers if yer just goin'ta insult and threaten me anyway, eh?

"We'll scratch around and see what we can find out about this Black Stag, the places that carry it, and who is buying." Boys, yer work is done for ye. Foreign Affections near the docks, and Randall M. Hughes Rarities and Sundries is the other, on the other side o' the river. Ye'll need to use someone a bit more respectable looking than most o' yer lot, and I shouldn't think ye should go bustin in there and roughin the shopman up. Ye could scare away yer target, and then yer back ta losin folks.

As you brooch your second topic, revealing that Ivy had lied to them about getting married, McHickie nearly blows his stack and starts to rise from his seat.

Cleeson doesn't move, but his eyes follow McHickie and his right eyebrow quirks a bit.

It was as if he was expecting to leave the bar and find Ivy standing just outside, ready to put a hand to her. "Bloody hell, Stephen. Give it a moment, ay?" The larger man's anger seems quelled by the stack of paper you pull out of your pocket and count out onto the table. McHickie eyes the money; Fowler eyes you.

"I imagine there's more where that came from, Harry. Why don't we just take this gray ponce and keep the lot?" S'posin you could give that a whack, but I don't think ye'd like how it ended for ye. But boys will be boys, aye?

Putting out the butt of the Black Stag cigarette, he smiles. "Because we're making friends, Stephen. Now, friend...", he says as he reaches over and ceases up the fifteen pounds and tucks them away.

"... Ivy... Miss Carson, that is... has two days to leave Whitechapel. None of my boys will even so much as lay a finger on her in that time. She leaves, we don't follow her outside of Whitechapel or Spitalfields. After that point, if I see her on my streets again, our little arrangement is null and void and your kin never sees the light of day again. I think we understand one another."

No, I'm not thinkin' that we are then, seein' as how you have it all ass backwards, mate. Here's how this works. Ivy lives wherever in the hell she damn well pleases, for as long as it suits her prissy little rump to live there, and she doesn't worry about lookin' over her shoulder, because all the boys and girls in this district are goin' ta be so bloody well behaved that she'll think she's the fookin' Queen. That's how it's goin'ta bloody well be, or by God, I'll break you wee lil' bastards apart and burn yer lives down around ye. I'm not askin ye, I'm tellin ye. Touch that lil' girl and I'll un-make ye. Cleeson hasn't moved, hasn't even changed his tone, but suddenly, he's far more imposing than he was. There is just an aura of menace about him right now. A direct threat to himself is nothing but a fleabite, but a threat to one of his kin, however distant, was enough to set his blood to boil. Intimidate Check, + Daring Deed (already added) plus anything that Profile might give. [roll0] That bein' said, I've been a businessman, and I know what it's like to lose.. assets. In a coupla' weeks, I'll match what I just gave ye. Thirty pounds. How many years would it have taken for her to make that for ye on her back? She'll probably wish to move anyway, this ain't the finest digs in town, ye know.
"Well, sir, I think that wraps up our most profitable meeting." Cleeson looks at them both in turn, then nods once, finally, the color in his cheeks starting to rise. I were hopin' ye'd be men enough to see the benefit for ye for workin' together to fix yer problem. Mebbe it ain't so important to ye after all. I'm sure yer boys would be thrilled to hear that ye could have kept them an' theirs safe, been hero's to em even, fer movin' heaven and earth to protect what was yers, but ye was too pig-headed to use the resources that was thrown at ye. Oh, I'm sure they'd be blessin' ye for that, aye.

In a weird sort of way.. I'm trying to shame them into accepting my 'alliance'. What men think of them might be the only thing that gets through their hard heads. (Plus anything from Profile, if anything). [roll1]
Cleeson picks up his bottle, downs the rest of it, belches loudly, and sets it on the table, then turns and allows himself to be herded out the door, IF he gets his weapons back, one and all.
The doors to the private room open once more and the same two men enter and stand on either side of you.

Wheeeee! This is either going to go REALLY well, or REEEEEEEALLY super bad.. But it should be interesting either way!

[Erasmas]

Alright... go ahead and roll for initiative please!
And pray to whomever you revere... Cleeson is going to need it.

Fowler:
[roll0]
McHickie:
[roll1]
Bruiser1:
[roll2]
Bruiser2:
[roll3]
Lackey1:
[roll4]
Lackey2:
[roll5]
Lackey3:
[roll6]
Lackey4:
[roll7]

[pife]

Alright... go ahead and roll for initiative please!
And pray to whomever you revere... Cleeson is going to need it.

Fowler:
[roll0]
McHickie:
[roll1]
Bruiser1:
[roll2]
Bruiser2:
[roll3]
Lackey1:
[roll4]
Lackey2:
[roll5]
Lackey3:
[roll6]
Lackey4:
[roll7]


No need. If 30 pounds, a Daring Deed, an intimidate of 40 and a diplomacy of 24 weren't enough to do the trick, combat won't be necessary. Feel free to kill, humiliate, maim or imprison him as you deem appropriate.

[Erasmas]

I'm not sure where the "+23" for the Intimidate was from, it wasn't one of the ones that you quoted in the PM. The most ranks that you can have in it are 9 (and that's if it is a class skill for all three of your classes). Your CHA is a 20, so that brings the possible total to +14... but Daring Deed only adds a +5. Likewise, in the PM you sent, the Diplomacy score you quoted was a +16, not a +18.

However, with all of that being said, these checks do not completely dissuade people from certain courses of action... it simply changes how they feel about them. Intimidate does not provoke a fear effect or anything. And Diplomacy can shift people one place along the "mood" chart (or whatever it's called) - in this case, what you said has made them Hostile... so the best you could hope for is Unfriendly. In addition, just because these rolls were fantastic, it doesn't completely "smooth over" or "undo" what a player chooses to have their character say. At this point, it's almost like apologizing while you're kicking someone in the nuts. It doesn't give you carte blanche. If you were to walk into Buckingham Palace and urinate on the rug in front of the Queen... it doesn't matter how suavely you did so, it does not counteract what was said/done.

You have to realize that Cleeson came into a den of thugs and started issuing demands about how things were going to go. And now, he's made them look bad... "in front of" the members of their gang (the shouting could be heard by all in the bar). If they don't stand up to him, they stand to loose the authority that they have. So, even if they are afraid (because of the stellar Intimidate), they are still going to fight out of the fear that they could loose their standing. Does all of that makes sense?

By the way, they aren't going to kill Cleeson (unless he starts using lethal force himself). But they're gonna beat the living tar outta him.

Now... what I am willing to do is to scrap this whole side thread thing and just pretend like it never happened. You never went and talked with them, you didn't pay them 15 pounds, and words were never exchanged between you. Are you okay with that?

[pife]

I'm not sure where the "+23" for the Intimidate was from, it wasn't one of the ones that you quoted in the PM. The most ranks that you can have in it are 9 (and that's if it is a class skill for all three of your classes). Your CHA is a 20, so that brings the possible total to +14... but Daring Deed only adds a +5. Likewise, in the PM you sent, the Diplomacy score you quoted was a +16, not a +18.

However, with all of that being said, these checks do not completely dissuade people from certain courses of action... it simply changes how they feel about them. Intimidate does not provoke a fear effect or anything. And Diplomacy can shift people one place along the "mood" chart (or whatever it's called) - in this case, what you said has made them Hostile... so the best you could hope for is Unfriendly. In addition, just because these rolls were fantastic, it doesn't completely "smooth over" or "undo" what a player chooses to have their character say. At this point, it's almost like apologizing while you're kicking someone in the nuts.

You have to realize that Cleeson came into a den of thugs and started issuing demands about how things were going to go. And now, he's made them look bad... "in front of" the members of their gang (the shouting could be heard by all in the bar). If they don't stand up to him, they stand to loose the authority that they have. So, even if they are afraid (because of the stellar Intimidate), they are still going to fight out of the fear that they could loose their standing. Does all of that makes sense?

By the way, they aren't going to kill Cleeson (unless he starts using lethal force himself). But they're gonna beat the living tar outta him.


9 Ranks, 5 Charisma, 2 Persuasive Feat, 5 Daring Deed =21. I thought that I also got another +2 bonus for something.. Either Favored Terrain or.. something.. But you're right, I might have been 2 over if I was wrong on the additional +2. Need to check my sheet. As far as Diplomacy, I might be 2 heavy on that as well, because I 'think' I got a +2 from another feat or ability, but again, could be two heavy. Which would make them a 38 and a 22, respectively. I could be wrong, but I don't cheat.

And actually, that's exactly what Intimidate does, RAW. Various quotes from the PH, page 76 "The target retains it's normal attitude but will chat, advise, offer limited help or advocate on your behalf while intimidated". "Use this skill to get a bully to back down, to frighten an opponent, or to make a prisoner give you the information that you want. Intimidation includes verbal threats and body language." "You can change anothers behavior with a successful check". "If you beat your opponents targets check result, you may treat the target as 'friendly', but only for the purpose of actions taken while intimidated". Now, two things about that.. First, unless the DM determines otherwise, it only lasts for as long as you are in their presence, and a variable amount of time afterward, (1d6x10 minutes)so even if I "succeeded", it would be up to you to determine whether or not it 'stuck' going forward, as in 'they leave her alone due to my threat'. Second, I realize that it's your game, and you can make whatever decision you choose, and rightly so. Would it have been cool (from my perspective) for them to back down and let an otherwise superfluous NPC (my cousin) live there because "I said so"? Yep, I would have had all kinds of fun with that. Am I okay with having failed? Of course I am!

That being said, mathematically, Cleeson can't win, can't even acquit himself well here. The odds are 8-1, he's unarmed, they're armed, he WOULD try to use lethal force (wouldn't you?), and at least four of them are better in melee than he is. So, we can undergo an exercise in futility, maybe he gets lucky and takes down a few before the inevitable conclusion, which was death, maiming, humiliation and/or imprisonment, or I can defer to your narration of the event. Obviously, you have determined that they are not going to play ball with him (which is perfectly acceptable, you're the DM), and I doubt the situation would be improved if he'd have slunk in there and started each sentence with "pardon me, sir, but have you considered".. They're criminals, he's a crusty old bastard, and I doubt that they would respect a coward or a prissy speaker any more than tough talk. Now, you have determined that they have zero fear of the authorities or the trouble that killing/beating a representative of the law, and that's fine, you can do that. You have determined that preventing the deaths of their people AND gaining an advocate/helper who can work from the other side of the equation on their behalf, is secondary to their pride and ability to beat an old man down, and that's fine, you can do that. You have made it perfectly clear that these guys are not going to be any help at all to the investigation, and that too, is fine, it's your story!

But if, as Brian is fond of saying "the dice tell the best story", they wouldn't be dogpiling Cleeson 8 on 1 right now, would they? They would literally have had to roll a 20 (getting the +10) AND been about 10th level (or have high Wis mods) to resist his intimidation. Or, they could resist it outright because you decided that they do. I'm TOTALLY not arguing the validity of your authority. I'm bummed that it didn't work dude, but I'm not mad about it. My gambit failed, I didn't gain an alliance (uneasy though it may have been) with the Wights, which was my goal. My hope was to be able to leverage them, and to allow them to leverage me to be working 'behind the scenes' to produce groovy results. Not all plans work. Stuff breaks, people die!

So, if you would like to, we can run the combat. If you'd like to, you can narrate the result. Hell, if you'd like to, you can (bebebeeep, bee be beebeep. Message coming in. It's YOU, Texting me, lol! ) Ahem, where was I.. Ah yes, you can even, in light of 'new evidence', decide to change your mind. Or not! We're good bro, I don't want you to think I'm throwing a tantrum, I'm totally not! If Cleeson dies, I make another character, bonk myself on the head and say "that was stupid Craig". If Cleeson gets "damaged", he finds a way to move forward (and eventually get his revenge). If Cleeson gets 'his way', manna and naked women will fall from the skies to serve Jeremy's every need and whim, lol. It's all good. It's your game, I'm just along for the ride!

[pife]

I'm not sure where the "+23" for the Intimidate was from, it wasn't one of the ones that you quoted in the PM. The most ranks that you can have in it are 9 (and that's if it is a class skill for all three of your classes). Your CHA is a 20, so that brings the possible total to +14... but Daring Deed only adds a +5. Likewise, in the PM you sent, the Diplomacy score you quoted was a +16, not a +18.

However, with all of that being said, these checks do not completely dissuade people from certain courses of action... it simply changes how they feel about them. Intimidate does not provoke a fear effect or anything. And Diplomacy can shift people one place along the "mood" chart (or whatever it's called) - in this case, what you said has made them Hostile... so the best you could hope for is Unfriendly. In addition, just because these rolls were fantastic, it doesn't completely "smooth over" or "undo" what a player chooses to have their character say. At this point, it's almost like apologizing while you're kicking someone in the nuts. It doesn't give you carte blanche. If you were to walk into Buckingham Palace and urinate on the rug in front of the Queen... it doesn't matter how suavely you did so, it does not counteract what was said/done.

You have to realize that Cleeson came into a den of thugs and started issuing demands about how things were going to go. And now, he's made them look bad... "in front of" the members of their gang (the shouting could be heard by all in the bar). If they don't stand up to him, they stand to loose the authority that they have. So, even if they are afraid (because of the stellar Intimidate), they are still going to fight out of the fear that they could loose their standing. Does all of that makes sense?

By the way, they aren't going to kill Cleeson (unless he starts using lethal force himself). But they're gonna beat the living tar outta him.

Now... what I am willing to do is to scrap this whole side thread thing and just pretend like it never happened. You never went and talked with them, you didn't pay them 15 pounds, and words were never exchanged between you. Are you okay with that?


Referring to "made them look bad". Nobody else was in the room. At all. Just the three of us. The others departed the room and shut the door. And I wasn't shouting at any point. I even mentioned that I didn't raise my voice or change my tone.

Cleeson made one demand. "don't mess with my cousin, here's more money than she'll make you in two years. If you DO mess with my cousin, I'll kill you". Yep, that's what he said, no two ways about it. Not unreasonable, but he did say it. Other than that, he GAVE them information, OFFERED to advocate for them with the police, even getting people out of jail for them if need be, offered to HELP them stop the killings of their people, etc. On balance, I think they were getting a sweet deal. Apparently they disagree. Apparently, they are going to beat his ass. Mmkay. Like I said before, I was just saving us the potential die rolling and time of a completely one sided conflict, and was letting you narrate it. Cleeson knows where to get more dynamite if they steal his. They beat his ass and throw him out on the street naked, chances are, they wake up with a stick of it up their ass one night. Cleeson doesn't play nice any more than they do.

I'd prefer not to 'undo' the meeting. It is what it is. He either dies/ gets beaten / gets kicked out, or gets what he wants. I'll move forward accordingly.

[Erasmas]

Now that I have some time at work and (perhaps more importantly) this has had some time to breathe, hopefully we both can come at this in a less emotional way. I am just going to start off with a plea for you to understand that I was not trying to accuse you of cheating... I just wanted to make sure that both of us were correct on the appropriate modifiers, since there is not a sheet present. I have had no reason to ever suspect you of cheating, nor do I now. Any time I see very high numbers, it always surprises me and I usually ask for a breakdown of where they all came from.

Next, I am going to do a recap of the events thus far (from the point of view of the Wights), to hopefully illustrate better where things stand. Pretend, if you will, that you are in their shoes and the character referred below is another character entirely.
The American returns to their turf, this time without his "friends", approaching with weapons in plain view.
Asks to be left alone with the two leaders of the gang, in private.
They remove your weapons to ease their concern, which he gives up willingly... with two points of further interest: a) he's carrying enough dynamite to blow up the entire block, three times over and b) he tells them that he will get his weapons back when he leaves (not asks, but tells).
In addition, stabs his large knife into the door frame of their private room in their personal pub.
He informs them that he now finds the murders personal and wants them to help him bring the man to justice/vengeance. He offers to help in return; at this point, he has not made it clear what (if anything) he can offer them in exchange.
He indicates that he regards them as "not much more than jumped up little small time thugs" and informs them that they "smell like cabbage n' too many beans".
The man produces the strange tobacco and tells them that their perpetrator smokes this particular brand and that there are only two places to get it in London. He then offers to go with them to talk to the owners, which is usually the kind of thing that they would do on their own. This man is a loose cannon, they aren't sure if they want to be associated publicly with him yet or not. They offer to check into it and find out what they can.
He now brings up Ivy Carson and informs them that she bold-faced lied to them, but that she is still leaving their employ. He asks that they leave her alone and pays them 15 pounds (~$2000 in current US economy). This goes a long ways towards paying for the dishonesty and the loss of a profitable earner, but not the whole way. They contemplate stealing everything the man has, but decide against it. Instead, they offer he two days' time to clear out of their neighborhood and live out her life in peace. They can't have her staying around, as she would be a constant reminder to anyone that knew (and any the suspected) that it was okay to lie to the Wights and get away with it.
The man now tells them that they are going to tell them anything they know or find out about the killings. In exchange, he offers to inform on the police activity (of which they may or may not already have insight into) and to possibly be able to get someone out of prison for them. The last time that the group came to visit, it was clearly established that they had absolutely no ties to the police. This information is conflicting at best; a lie at worst.
I'll have to finish tomorrow...