As was usual for the nightly mists they began to flow back out to sea, unlike other places where fog and mists were known to loiter, even after the sun began to climb into the sky. In Tarantis the fogs and mists acted almost like the sea, ebbing with some unknown tide. As the predawn turned everything a murky gray, still providing some cover for the trio as they made their way through the narrow, winding streets. Lilita’s knowledge of the quarter served them well as she was able to avoid the busier streets and back alleys known to be haunted by thugs and cutpurses. The few that they met were quick to draw back after second glances. True to the young woman’s prediction few were willing to chance plague or leprosy.
In the distance came the sound of the many bells of the Temple Quarter, sounding out Dawnfest (6am), both a warning to those who needed to be at their daily labors, and a summons for the more devote. It was also the hour that the temples opened their soup kitchens to the poor, as did scores of street venders and street side eateries. The smells of baking bread, cooking gruel and other morning victuals toyed with their nostrils.
“Gods but I could eat,” muttered Hadara as he leaned against the Half-Orc. Mordecai could tell that the herbs Lilita had given the fugitive was wearing off as Hadara’s body was weak and trembled occasionally.
Lilita moves close to Hadara and whispers, "I know, me too..." she purrs, "you cannot imagine how long it has been since I've eaten freshly baked... well anything, but hush... there is danger for us and I promise you, just be silent and once we get you to where you need to be there will be food aplenty for you... all you need to do is be silent for just a little while longer."
Mordecai whispers to Hadara, "That was unexpected. Well, here, take a sip of this..."
The Half-orc pulls out a flask and puts it to Hadara’s lips and knocks back a sip for the man, commenting, "That should wake you up a bit."
The fugitive hisses slightly and winces. “Good gods man, what is it, turpentine? Still, it’s helping to clear my head.”
Coming to the end of an alley situated between a trade office and a warehouse, Lilita became conscious of the powerful Half-Orc as he leaned close in order to look around the corner at a view of Seaward Gate, the portal linking the two quarters. From where she stood, he could see two guardsmen lounging inside the arch. Beside them the door leading to a narrow stair that accessed the room above the gate.
Mordecai grunts before letting out a stiff cough. He nods towards the gatehouse, saying, "That'll likely be the toughest sell for us this morning. They'd likely be wary of sick individuals heading towards the docks, but your leper colony story might just work. The patrol seems to be out - we should y move now before one of their knights or mages joins them. They've keener eyes and more skeptical minds than the average patrolman."
Lilita looks up at Mordecai while they are still at a safe distance from the gate and unobserved, "you must trust me now, I think it best you remain here at a safe distance and let me speak to them alone first... to present myself and obtain clearance for us to pass. Hopefully, with you two lepers they will clear a path for us and keep their distance and I will come part of the way back and motion you forward to join me if it is safe. Then I will lead you through the gate and we will proceed as planned."
"That's fine," replies Mordecai, "but you need to be quick about it. I don't think we can wait for your signal, that'll be too suspicious anyways, but we can walk slower than you. It'll give you enough time to make your plea and it'll fit your story that we're sick and thus slow to keep up."
Lilita pauses and takes in a breath and continues, "But if something is amiss then I will feign a fainting spell and when you see me fall to the ground or start to fall and I am caught in the arms of a guard... then you will know there is danger for you both and take it as a signal for you both to go! You will slip always and take Hadara... try to find another way to your ship and leave me to deal with things on my own, in my own way. I promise I will be alright. So now promise me now that should this happen that you will leave me. Promise me and swear on your honor or I will go no further!"
Mordecai squints his eyes a bit before simply saying, "Okay."
Once Mordecai promises Lilita, satisfied she will continue on walking at a normal pace in the open for them to see her coming and once there present herself to a guard, "please noble Ser, if I may speak regarding a matter of public health and safety to you or your watch commander? I am a Guild Healer," she says presenting the official Healing Guild Sigil for his inspection, "excuse me for inconveniencing you but this is a delicate matter of some importance which the Guild wishes kept in strict confidence to avoid causing undue alarm to the general public as to not cause a panic. Two unfortunate souls have been identified as unclean, as poxed lepers and potential plague spawn. I have been instructed to escort them out of the city to transportation that has already been arranged and waiting for them by my superiors and his eminence, Lord Maigrinstaff who has instructed there be no paper trail or gossip regarding this very delicate matter! Do so at your own peril. I am frightened out of my wits enough have been assigned this mission. Should a single drop of their blood or urine make contact with human flesh, I shudder to think of the resulting death and chaos that will result with the plagues spreading like wildfire through the entire city. Thus, I ask permission to bring them forward to pass through the gate unhindered and unmolested. If you must, you must but I advise you that if you or anyone comes within 10' of them to afterward bath yourselves... scrub yourself as if your life depended on it, which it will and to burn every stitch of clothing and to wrap all other items up that cannot be burned and put it all into a weighted strongbox and toss the box into the nearest river. Should any one of your men come into direct contact... touch them or be touched by them, then sadly there is nothing to be done and your man/men must accompany me to transport as well to the plague colony never to return! Do you understand? Likewise, if you or your men even archers should for any reason shed their blood thinking killing them be a far easier solution then know this. Their blood and bodily fluids are every bit as dangerous as they are, more so if anything, much more dangerous in fact... if such is shed you must close and lock the gate until the Guild dispatches a cleanup crew and in all likelihood, all of you as well as the cleanup crew itself as a precaution will be sent to the plague colony never to return. Have I made the seriousness of this matter perfectly clear? Do you have questions for me? If you seek verification then, by all means, contact Lord Maigrinstaff, he will be sleeping but I am sure won't mind in the least at being awoken.... at this early hour. I imagine as a result you then be assigned to this detail beside me... so I hope you don't have a family, as such was my mistake and the reason I am here before you now." [Lilita Persuasion3] [Guard’s response roll 49% = holds position]
The indifferent look that the older guard gives her could mean anything. That the man wasn’t buying into her story, or that, upon looking her over, doubted her claims of leprosy or plague, or perhaps, it was an old tale, one that the man had heard too many times to buy into easily. The older guard traded looks with his companion. Lilita glances back the way she came not seeing Mordecai and Hadara lurking somewhere in the shadows but is confident that they see her just fine!
Without warning, she begins to swoon and faints... falling to the ground or into arms of a watchful guard...[Lilita Performance21 Fainting Spell] [Guard’s response roll 21% = retreats] (That being the pre-arranged signal for Mordecai to go... and leave her behind!)
As was usual for the nightly mists they began to flow back out to sea, unlike other places where fog and mists were known to loiter, even after the sun began to climb into the sky. In Tarantis the fogs and mists acted almost like the sea, ebbing with some unknown tide. As the predawn turned everything a murky gray, still providing some cover for the trio as they made their way through the narrow, winding streets. Lilita’s knowledge of the quarter served them well as she was able to avoid the busier streets and back alleys known to be haunted by thugs and cutpurses. The few that they met were quick to draw back after second glances. True to the young woman’s prediction few were willing to chance plague or leprosy.
In the distance came the sound of the many bells of the Temple Quarter, sounding out Dawnfest (6am), both a warning to those who needed to be at their daily labors, and a summons for the more devote. It was also the hour that the temples opened their soup kitchens to the poor, as did scores of street venders and street side eateries. The smells of baking bread, cooking gruel and other morning victuals toyed with their nostrils.
“Gods but I could eat,” muttered Hadara as he leaned against the Half-Orc. Mordecai could tell that the herbs Lilita had given the fugitive was wearing off as Hadara’s body was weak and trembled occasionally.
Lilita moves close to Hadara and whispers, "I know, me too..." she purrs, "you cannot imagine how long it has been since I've eaten freshly baked... well anything, but hush... there is danger for us and I promise you, just be silent and once we get you to where you need to be there will be food aplenty for you... all you need to do is be silent for just a little while longer."
Mordecai whispers to Hadara, "That was unexpected. Well, here, take a sip of this..."
Mordecai puts his flask to Hadara’s lips and knocks back a sip for the man, commenting, "That should wake you up a bit." (GM Die roll for Hadara = 5)
The fugitive hisses slightly and winces. “Good gods man, what is it, turpentine? Still, it’s helping to clear my head.”
Coming to the end of an alley situated between a trade office and a warehouse, Mordecai was able to get a view of Seaward Gate, the portal linking the two quarters. From where he stood, he could see two guardsmen lounging inside the arch. Beside them the door leading to a narrow stair that accessed the room above the gate. From experience, Mordecai knew that the average patrol was between three and six guardsmen. Larger patrols would be twice that and might include a knight or mage or both.
The healer moved closer, nearly pressing herself against him in order to peer at the gatehouse.
Mordecai grunts a little uncomfortably before letting out a stiff cough. He nods towards the gatehouse, saying, "That'll likely be the toughest sell for us this morning. They'd likely be wary of sick individuals heading towards the docks, but your leper colony story might just work. The patrol seems to be out - we should y move now before one of their knights or mages joins them. They've keener eyes and more skeptical minds than the average patrolman."
Lilita looks up at Mordecai while they are still at a safe distance from the gate and unobserved, "you must trust me now, I think it best you remain here at a safe distance and let me speak to them alone first... to present myself and obtain clearance for us to pass. Hopefully, with you two lepers they will clear a path for us and keep their distance and I will come part of the way back and motion you forward to join me if it is safe. Then I will lead you through the gate and we will proceed as planned."
"That's fine," replies Mordecai, "but you need to be quick about it. I don't think we can wait for your signal, that'll be too suspicious anyways, but we can walk slower than you. It'll give you enough time to make your plea and it'll fit your story that we're sick and thus slow to keep up."
Lilita pauses and takes in a breath and continues, "But if something is amiss then I will feign a fainting spell and when you see me fall to the ground or start to fall and I am caught in the arms of a guard... then you will know there is danger for you both and take it as a signal for you both to go! You will slip always and take Hadara... try to find another way to your ship and leave me to deal with things on my own, in my own way. I promise I will be alright. So now promise me now that should this happen that you will leave me. Promise me and swear on your honor or I will go no further!"
Mordecai squints his eyes a bit before simply saying, "Okay."
Once Mordecai promises Lilita continued walking at a normal pace in the open so the guards could to see her coming. As he watched the young healer bowed slightly to the guards and began talking. At one point several more exited the guardhouse and one in sergeant stars frowned, even as the rest of the guards took a visible step back from the girl. Lilita’s head bobbed slowly, gesturing vaguely at a spot further down the street, drawing all eyes with it. Even the sergeant seemed hesitant and took a step back, eyeing the healer as if she might have been a devil incarnate.
As they walk towards the guard house, from the direction Lilita pointed to, and see the sergeant's reaction, Mordecai, still assisting Hadara mutters, "Seems like the girl convinced them that we're the plague itself. Well, seems like your idea to find this girl was the right one. Hopefully, soon, you'll be on a ship home. Don't forget to act like you're dying."
“Still might happen if one of those pox-ridden guard’s mistake one of us,” muttered Hadara as he leaned on Half-Orc.
Mordecai stifles a chuckle.
As he entered the street several shouts by the guardhouse grabs his attention. Without warning, she begins to swoon and faints. (That being the pre-arranged signal for Mordecai to go... and leave her behind!)
“That’s her signal, Mord, we gotta go, now!”
Even as Hadara was talking Mordecai saw the younger guard lunged to catch Lilita just as the older one’s jaw drops open.
“Don’t touch her, she’s infected!” the older guard shouted.
“Crap!” shouts the younger guard as he jerks his arms away and stumbles past, tripping over the now prone healer.
Mordecai’s eyes open wide. "Well," he says, "that was the easy way in. Looks like we're regulated to the muck - hope you don't mind getting your boots dirty. I don't like leaving your savior to her own devices, but I agreed to her terms. The sewers between this district and the docks are connected. Figured that one out while chasing a bounty down through there. It won't smell good, but the water is only ankle deep - so your wound won't get infected and, normally, it's pretty quiet. Just rats to keep one company down there. I made it a point to learn the tunnels in and out of the docks... In case I have to add smuggling to my resume given bounties typically don't pay that well."
Hadara frowns but nods. “The sewer’s it is.”
He looks over at the commotion at the guard house and says, "I'll make sure she gets what due to her for all the help she's provided.". He then points down another stretch of alleys, "Let's go - there's an entrance not far from here."
It didn’t take long to see her acting as a crier, he'll shrug, take care of some petty shopping for some spell components, and go to the Witch's Brew, and will accept Nephele's guidance to wait for Livvi, anticipating the meeting, ordering some fine herbal tea and a plate of sandwiches (some analog to cucumber sandwiches, light and refreshing for someone who's been just shouting out news).
The Witch's Brew was located not far from the main entrance to the government quarter, near the palace. A moderate to upscale tea house, the ‘Brew’ as many of the bureaucrats that patronized the place liked to call it, was clean with open air walls and patio. He had barely set foot into the establishment when a woman in vivid green hair (obviously dyed) greeted by introducing herself as Nephele. At the mention of Livvi, she smiles and leads Cadrian to one of the better tables, the one’s with a view of the crossroad and entrance to the palace.
Livvi waves back to Nephele than walks over to the green-haired girl and says a few things that causes the server to beam and then giggle. Both girls’ glance towards Cadrian. Livvi then makes a fake growl ("rawr!") and scratches at the air, like a toddler imitating a cat, then winks and walks over to join him.
Nephele giggles again and nods before hurrying into the kitchen.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Lord Cadrian. I trust this place is satisfactory? I've asked Nephele to bring us something to drink. So, notes and sharing. It seems we are both looking into the disappearance of Pithini, the daughter of Karigaon the silversmith, and her odd return in a state of unhealth. Here is what I know:
The young man nodded silently, sipping at his tea idly while absorbed in the conversation.
Pithini was with her friends a five-day past, visiting various shops and merchants dealing in luxuries. The young women were accompanied by a chaperone and several well-armed escorts. The young ladies had left Rail's Shop on Iltutmish Lane, in the Sage Quarter. Her companions insist that she was with them, and then she wasn’t. They told Karigaon, but by the time he was able to enlist aide from some friends and associates to locate her, it had grown dark and the fog had set in. He found her wondering the back streets near the docks in a daze. She barely recognized her name or her father. The silversmith's family leech couldn’t deign the cause of Pithini's strange malady and suggested The Black Rose House of Healing because it is said that no one understands exotic illnesses better than Lord Maigrinstaff.
Karigaon is one of the wealthiest merchants in the city these days. He has a shop in the Noble Quarter and his townhouse is one of the largest in the Merchant Quarter. There has been a string of attacks on merchants, and abductions of young women. This case, however, is the first one I am investigating.
Now, I was in Avgrat's shop last night, trying on gowns, when I spotted a tall, aristocratic man of intermediate age dressed like a noble and oozing charm talking to a plainly dressed young woman. Although he looked like an ordinary noble, his stare at the young woman almost obscene. There was…something else there, some sort of hunger. That man’s eyes sent a cold shiver down my spine. His eyes seemed almost...soulless. Well, to cut off the story, the young woman made a mad but stealthy Dash barefoot out of the shop leaving her own old and well-worn shoes behind. When the nobleman noticed the young woman’s exit, his expression flared into anger. Without another look, at me or anyone else, the man turned and stalked out. It was a distinctively predatory move. I tried to follow them and warn the girl but lost them in the city's winding streets and night fog. Perhaps it was for the best - I'm not sure I would want to meet up with him in a dark alley by myself!
Anyways, I have no evidence that this man was involved in the other disappearances, but it sure does seem plausible that I interrupted the next potential abduction. Now it's your turn." Livvi takes a long drink from her mug, watching Lord Cadrian du Flynn closely.
Cadrian nodded. "Idle thought." He drew out the parchment he had sketched the image of Lord Maigrinstaff. "Any resemblance to the predator?"
Livvi studied the drawing Cadrian produced for a few moments before replying, "The face reminds me of a figure I briefly glimpsed in a third-floor window of the Black Rose three days ago, but it is not the noble and his bright blue turban that I saw last night in Avgrat’s. Shame - but I suppose that would be too easy!"
He notes her response and continues. “My entry point into this sordid little story was in passing the Black Rose Healing House last night. Last I walked past the alley behind the building, I spied a young woman in a state of extreme undress standing in a daze as though ensorcelled at the rear door. I approached, fearing some foul deeds might be in motion. As I approached, the door opened slowly as if by an unseen hand or magic, and she mechanically moved to enter. I made my presence known at this time and was met by a woman identifying herself as Melinia, who I believe to be of the Maigrinstaff house now. I was offended by her lack of concern with the welfare of the woman, who I recognized in the light as Perini, who I have known of for some time. My family is a patron of her father's excellent craft, and we had been introduced, you see.
"When I demanded an answer of her, regarding the state of Perini, she averred, assuring me the guard who was responsible would be punished and closing the door in my face. Nonplussed. I then paid a visit to her father to learn the truth of the situation. He told me much of the same information that you did regarding the circumstances of the tailors. The only variance was that he stated the matron believed that she vanished from within the store itself, rather than departing in the company of her party."
Livvi gasps in shock when Cadrian mentions that Pithini was outside and undressed. "Karigaon was quite upset when he demanded to see his daughter at the Black Rose. He also spoke with Melinia, who was just as unhelpful. It sounds like perhaps she is still not herself - but like you I am beginning to wonder if she is getting any better in the Rose."
"This morning I went to the Hall of Records, as something about the circumstances of the Black Rose rankles, and I researched the history of the Maigrinstaffs, the owner of the House. The last few pages detailing the birth and marriages of the latest generation were missing, but I sketched that villain," he gestured to the sketch, "of the first Lord Basha, hoping familial similarity could prove useful. From the attendant Sage, I discovered that the House has more than just the scandal of whispers regarding their House, but an actual summoned demon from a scion of their House that got out of control actually happened. There is something entirely worrisome about the deeds coming out of that place."
"When I first met you at Avgrat's, I was intent on researching if Perini could have been smuggled out without being observed. There is too much idle magical residue in there that i was not able to tell if something like dust of disappearance had been used. What I did detect, and you may well have noted, is that Master Avgrat has had an enchantment placed over his mind. He wrestles against it somewhat, but I suspect someone has been suborning his store as a stage for kidnapping. Whether the purpose is to ransom the abductees or something far worse, I have yet to determine. Bear in mind that I have only suspicions, but I am frankly tired of being warned away from the affairs of Lord Maigrinstaff. I think that aristocrat you nearly net has some answers to questions worth asking, but I am not sure how best to proceed. I merely know time is of the essence."
He smiled grimly, his eyes openly inviting Livvi to comment.
Yes, I had a similar concern. Especially that the predator may still be hunting the Grey Lady - the one I saw last night in the clothing shop. I still have her shoes, in fact, and I want to return them to her and warn her to be wary, but how do you find a single girl in Tarantis? Being barefoot and wearing a plain grey dress doesn't reduce the possibilities much! I remember a slight herbal scent, but I cannot be sure if that came from her or someone else." Livvi pauses and sips her drink, a thoughtful look on her face.
"I have read about hunts for dangerous animals but have never been on one. There are different techniques used for each animal, but they are all very different than hunting game animals. Like deer - you find a good hiding place and you wait for them. But for a boar, you send hounds or men with cymbals and drums out to drive the creature out of its hiding place and put it on the run, then you confront it with many weapons that will keep you out of range of its natural weapons, like claws or tusks. So - do we observe the possible hunting ground of this beast and the go on the offensive? Or do we attempt to retrieve the silversmith's daughter from the Black Rose and find out what happened to her first? I also have been warned about the Maigrinstaffs and to keep away from them. But like you, I don't like being told what to do or not do."
Cadrian steepled his fingers together. "An offensive thrust would be messy. The legal right would be against us if we did anything aggressive toward the Black Rose itself. Any entry would involve dealing with guards, possibly over naked steel. The status and reputation of the Maigrinstaffs afford them some protections that would be difficult to bypass. I'd feel better about baiting this character, but what is a common link between the victims can we ascertain? Young females, certainly, and possibly of a singular class, specifically the wealthy merchanting class, I suspect. I was personally going to go to the other healing houses to ask for any other details I can glean regarding the Maigrinstaffs and find out about the other people who have disappeared. If you can recommend a smaller house with a respected healer, I hope to learn more. I am no diviner, though, and I can tell you nothing of the original owner of those shoes. Shall we go do some investigative work, or am I taking you from anything important?"
"I am free until this evening, when I must perform my duties again here in the market. Working together sounds like a solid plan - one might notice something the other does not. I also agree with your thought about inquiring at the smaller houses of healing, although I am not as familiar with these. Wait - I have an idea of where to start..." Livvi smiles and turns in her seat, looking for the serving girl, Nephele. Once they make eye contact, Livvi waves her over.
The green haired server arrives with a curious smile. “How can I serve you, Livvi?”
"Nephele, I'd like to introduce you to my new colleague, Lord Cadrian du Flynn. Lord Cadrian, this lovely young lady is Nephele, and I think she can help point us in a sound direction. Effie," she says, using her nickname for the girl, "we are looking for some healing houses in or near the Merchant's, Tradesman's and Laborer's quarters. Besides the Black Rose, of course. What would you recommend, and where are these places?"
Nephele’s face reddens and the server curtseys so deeply and so fast she nearly bumps her knee against the floor. “M’lord!”
"Pray pay no mind, my dear. We may leave off the honorifics when I am here, if you please." Cadrian favored her with an indulgent smile.
Clearly nervous Nephele’s hands twists as she sways slightly, head bobbing nonstop. “Oh, well, there’s Collander’s Care in the Tradesman’s quarters. He’s kinda expensive but is good, or so many say. For me, I visit Pencelot’s Herbery, which is over in the Laborer’s Quarter. He’s some sort of wood witch or something, not sure, but he’s always willing to take trade if you’re short on coin, plus his apprentice, a young, silver haired girl is some sort of prodigy they say. Lilita’s almost a mouse, she’s so quiet and even dresses in gray but she has the touch, I can swear to it. When I fell last spring and broke my wrist she used the touch to heal it neatly.” As if to attest to this Nephele wiggled her left wrist. “I didn’t have much saved but when I offered her what I had she refused any of it.”
Cadrian shot a quick look at Livvi. "How many silver-haired lasses are in this city? And one who dresses in gray and refuses money as well? I have a fondness for herbcraft, as I find it dovetails nicely into my studies...my dear Livvi, do you know the way to this Pencelot's?" He drains his tea swiftly, flips a gold coin onto the table in payment and rises, scooping up his staff and backpack to follow her. He bows courteously to Nephele, smoothly takes her hand and kisses the back of it in genteel fashion. "I am certain you shall see me again, my beauty. I hope to see you the next time I pay this place custom."
Livvi's eyebrows arch as Cadrian kisses Nephele's hand. She then grins at the green-haired server before saying, "I do not know of these places, but perhaps Nephele can give us directions. By the way, when do you get off work tonight? Perhaps m'lord can stop by later tonight to 'fill you in.'"
This causes Nephele to blush wildly. She stammers out directions to Pencelot’s healing shop before hurrying away.
He chuckles to Livvi when they leave. “If there is one thing, I enjoy perhaps more than any other. regarding the accident of my birth, is the propensity to make memorable departures."
Arriving at the Witch’s Brew a few minutes later than promised, Livvi rushes in to see that the nobleman had one of the best tables in the establishment. From the bar Nephele spotted her and waved over the heads of the other seated customers.
Livvi waves back to Nephele - smiling at how she had befriended the lady in only two days. Seeing that Cadrian was looking out at the street, Livvi moves over to the green-haired girl and says, "Hi Effi! I see you've met my new friend, Lord Manly. We have some business to go over, so keep the iced kafe flowing and I'll introduce you after we're done. Don't give me that look - I just met him and there is nothing going on between us!" Livvi makes a fake growl ("rawr!") and scratches at the air, like a toddler imitating a cat, then winks and walks over to join Cadrian.
Nephele giggles and nods then hurries after the iced kafe.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Lord Cadrian. I trust this place is satisfactory? I've asked Nephele to bring us something to drink. So, notes and sharing. It seems we are both looking into the disappearance of Pithini, the daughter of Karigaon the silversmith, and her odd return in a state of unhealth. Here is what I know:
The young man nodded silently, sipping at his tea idly while absorbed in the conversation.
Pithini was with her friends a five-day past, visiting various shops and merchants dealing in luxuries. The young women were accompanied by a chaperone and several well-armed escorts. The young ladies had left Rail's Shop on Iltutmish Lane, in the Sage Quarter. Her companions insist that she was with them, and then she wasn’t. They told Karigaon, but by the time he was able to enlist aide from some friends and associates to locate her, it had grown dark and the fog had set in. He found her wondering the back streets near the docks in a daze. She barely recognized her name or her father. The silversmith's family leech couldn’t deign the cause of Pithini's strange malady and suggested The Black Rose House of Healing because it is said that no one understands exotic illnesses better than Lord Maigrinstaff.
Karigaon is one of the wealthiest merchants in the city these days. He has a shop in the Noble Quarter and his townhouse is one of the largest in the Merchant Quarter. There has been a string of attacks on merchants, and abductions of young women. This case, however, is the first one I am investigating.
Now, I was in Avgrat's shop last night, trying on gowns, when I spotted a tall, aristocratic man of intermediate age dressed like a noble and oozing charm talking to a plainly dressed young woman. Although he looked like an ordinary noble, his stare at the young woman almost obscene. There was…something else there, some sort of hunger. That man’s eyes sent a cold shiver down my spine. His eyes seemed almost...soulless. Well, to cut off the story, the young woman made a mad but stealthy Dash barefoot out of the shop leaving her own old and well-worn shoes behind. When the nobleman noticed the young woman’s exit, his expression flared into anger. Without another look, at me or anyone else, the man turned and stalked out. It was a distinctively predatory move. I tried to follow them and warn the girl but lost them in the city's winding streets and night fog. Perhaps it was for the best - I'm not sure I would want to meet up with him in a dark alley by myself!
Anyways, I have no evidence that this man was involved in the other disappearances, but it sure does seem plausible that I interrupted the next potential abduction. Now it's your turn." Livvi takes a long drink from her mug, watching Lord Cadrian du Flynn closely.
Cadrian nodded. "Idle thought." He drew out the parchment he had sketched the image of some noble; for a brief moment it reminds her of a figure she saw in a third-floor window of the Black Rose on her first day of pursuing her crier duties, but it looked nothing like the noblemonster and his bright blue turban.
"Any resemblance to the predator?"
Livvi studied the drawing Cadrian produced for a few moments before replying, "The face reminds me of a figure I briefly glimpsed in a third-floor window of the Black Rose three days ago, but it is not the noble and his bright blue turban that I saw last night in Avgrat’s. Shame - but I suppose that would be too easy!"
He makes a note on his parchment and continues. “My entry point into this sordid little story was in passing the Black Rose Healing House last night. Last I walked past the alley behind the building, I spied a young woman in a state of extreme undress standing in a daze as though ensorcelled at the rear door. I approached, fearing some foul deeds might be in motion. As I approached, the door opened slowly as if by an unseen hand or magic, and she mechanically moved to enter. I made my presence known at this time and was met by a woman identifying herself as Melinia, who I believe to be of the Maigrinstaff house now. I was offended by her lack of concern with the welfare of the woman, who I recognized in the light as Perini, who I have known of for some time. My family is a patron of her father's excellent craft, and we had been introduced, you see.
"When I demanded an answer of her, regarding the state of Perini, she averred, assuring me the guard who was responsible would be punished and closing the door in my face. Nonplussed. I then paid a visit to her father to learn the truth of the situation. He told me much of the same information that you did regarding the circumstances of the tailors. The only variance was that he stated the matron believed that she vanished from within the store itself, rather than departing in the company of her party."
Livvi gasps in shock when Cadrian mentions that Pithini was outside and undressed. "Karigaon was quite upset when he demanded to see his daughter at the Black Rose. He also spoke with Melinia, who was just as unhelpful. It sounds like perhaps she is still not herself - but like you I am beginning to wonder if she is getting any better in the Rose."
"This morning I went to the Hall of Records, as something about the circumstances of the Black Rose rankles, and I researched the history of the Maigrinstaffs, the owner of the House. The last few pages detailing the birth and marriages of the latest generation were missing, but I sketched that villain," he gestured to the sketch, "of the first Lord Basha, hoping familial similarity could prove useful. From the attendant Sage, I discovered that the House has more than just the scandal of whispers regarding their House, but an actual summoned demon from a scion of their House that got out of control actually happened. There is something entirely worrisome about the deeds coming out of that place."
"When I first met you at Avgrat's, I was intent on researching if Perini could have been smuggled out without being observed. There is too much idle magical residue in there that i was not able to tell if something like dust of disappearance had been used. What I did detect, and you may well have noted, is that Master Avgrat has had an enchantment placed over his mind. He wrestles against it somewhat, but I suspect someone has been suborning his store as a stage for kidnapping. Whether the purpose is to ransom the abductees or something far worse, I have yet to determine. Bear in mind that I have only suspicions, but I am frankly tired of being warned away from the affairs of Lord Maigrinstaff. I think that aristocrat you nearly net has some answers to questions worth asking, but I am not sure how best to proceed. I merely know time is of the essence."
He smiled grimly, his eyes openly inviting Livvi to comment.
"Yes, I had a similar concern. Especially that the predator may still be hunting the Grey Lady - the one I saw last night in the clothing shop. I still have her shoes, in fact, and I want to return them to her and warn her to be wary, but how do you find a single girl in Tarantis? Being barefoot and wearing a plain grey dress doesn't reduce the possibilities much! I remember a slight herbal scent, but I cannot be sure if that came from her or someone else." Livvi pauses and sips her drink, letting the new information settle in her brain and fill in the spots of her investigation.
"I have read about hunts for dangerous animals but have never been on one. There are different techniques used for each animal, but they are all very different than hunting game animals. Like deer - you find a good hiding place and you wait for them. But for a boar, you send hounds or men with cymbals and drums out to drive the creature out of its hiding place and put it on the run, then you confront it with many weapons that will keep you out of range of its natural weapons, like claws or tusks. So - do we observe the possible hunting ground of this beast and the go on the offensive? Or do we attempt to retrieve the silversmith's daughter from the Black Rose and find out what happened to her first? I also have been warned about the Maigrinstaffs and to keep away from them. But like you, I don't like being told what to do or not do."
Livvi wants to do something, but she also wants to talk privately with Bilina about what she had found out or learned, and about this Lord du Flynn. She also wanted to talk with her contact in the underworld to hear the buzz in the commons. But this young man seemed to be a potential ally, and she had not so many that she would turn a new one away.
Cadrian steepled his fingers together. "An offensive thrust would be messy. The legal right would be against us if we did anything aggressive toward the Black Rose itself. Any entry would involve dealing with guards, possibly over naked steel. The status and reputation of the Maigrinstaffs afford them some protections that would be difficult to bypass. I'd feel better about baiting this character, but what is a common link between the victims can we ascertain? Young females, certainly, and possibly of a singular class, specifically the wealthy merchanting class, I suspect. I was personally going to go to the other healing houses to ask for any other details I can glean regarding the Maigrinstaffs and find out about the other people who have disappeared. If you can recommend a smaller house with a respected healer, I hope to learn more. I am no diviner, though, and I can tell you nothing of the original owner of those shoes. Shall we go do some investigative work, or am I taking you from anything important?"
"I am free until this evening, when I must perform my duties again here in the market. Working together sounds like a solid plan - one might notice something the other does not. I also agree with your thought about inquiring at the smaller houses of healing, although I am not as familiar with these. Wait - I have an idea of where to start..." Livvi smiles and turns in her seat, looking for the serving girl, Nephele. She is easy to spot, even in the crowded café, with her pale skin and bright green hair! Once they make eye contact, Livvi waves her over.
The green haired server arrives with a curious smile. “How can I serve you, Livvi?”
"Nephele, I'd like to introduce you to my new colleague, Lord Cadrian du Flynn. Lord Cadrian, this lovely young lady is Nephele, and I think she can help point us in a sound direction. Effie," she says, using her nickname for the girl, "we are looking for some healing houses in or near the Merchant's, Tradesman's and Laborer's quarters. Besides the Black Rose, of course. What would you recommend, and where are these places?"
Nephele’s face reddens and the server curtseys so deeply and so fast she nearly bumps her knee against the floor. “M’lord!”
"Pray pay no mind, my dear. We may leave off the honorifics when I am here, if you please." Cadrian favored her with an indulgent smile.
Clearly nervous Nephele’s hands twists as she sways slightly, head bobbing nonstop. “Oh, well, there’s Collander’s Care in the Tradesman’s quarters. He’s kinda expensive but is good, or so many say. For me, I visit Pencelot’s Herbery, which is over in the Laborer’s Quarter. He’s some sort of wood witch or something, not sure, but he’s always willing to take trade if you’re short on coin, plus his apprentice, a young, silver haired girl is some sort of prodigy they say. Lilita’s almost a mouse, she’s so quiet and even dresses in gray but she has the touch, I can swear to it. When I fell last spring and broke my wrist she used the touch to heal it neatly.” As if to attest to this Nephele wiggled her left wrist. “I didn’t have much saved but when I offered her what I had she refused any of it.”
Cadrian shot a quick look at Livvi. "How many silver-haired lasses are in this city? And one who dresses in gray and refuses money as well? I have a fondness for herbcraft, as I find it dovetails nicely into my studies...my dear Livvi, do you know the way to this Pencelot's?" The wizard drains his tea swiftly, flips a gold coin onto the table in payment and rises, scooping up his staff and backpack to follow her. He bows courteously to Nephele, smoothly takes her hand and kisses the back of it in genteel fashion. "I am certain you shall see me again, my beauty. I hope to see you the next time I pay this place custom."
Livvi's eyebrows arch as the lord kisses Nephele's hand. Then grinning at her green-haired friend, she answers Cadrian, "I do not know of these places, but perhaps Nephele can give us directions. By the way, when do you get off work tonight? Perhaps m'lord can stop by later tonight to 'fill you in.'"
This causes Nephele to blush wildly. She stammers out directions to Pencelot’s healing shop before hurrying away.
He chuckles to Livvi when they leave. “If there is one thing, I enjoy perhaps more than any other. regarding the accident of my birth, is the propensity to make memorable departures."
As the pair make for the nearest sewer entrance Hadara growls in pain....
Mordecai whispers, "Let's try not to bring attention to ourselves while we're down here. Keep as quiet as you can. I've more booze for your pain if you want."
“I think I’ll pass, whatever that stuff was the Healer gave me has left my brain a bowl of mush.”
Mordecai responds, "Well, right now the only thing you need to concentrate on is keeping close. So, now that you can speak coherently, why don't you tell me what you are really doing here in the city - and if you have any friends with you. You did promise information, and, once you're on that ship, I figure that you'd be protected enough that you won't need to speak to me. What have you been up to these last few days? Eh?"
Hadara gave the half-orc a sideways look than smirked briefly, “Everything I said was true, from a certain point of view, my friend.” The man hesitated than added, “You’re a smart sort, Mordecai, leave these sorts of connivers to those whose pay is in platinum, not silver.”
Mordecai responds, "The only way to stop getting paid crowns and start earning platinum is by reaching for it. Since you seem to remember what was said, what do your employers hope to gain by poisoning the celebrations? Somehow, I get the feeling that you are less government spy and more private contractor."
“One cannot argue with that. Platinum is always better than Gold, usually anyway.” There was a long pause before Hadara said, “Private contractor is as good a term as any. No, I have no particular politics, that is true, nor do I answer to any King or Queen or their stooges, not long term anyway. It isn’t in my nature to answer directly, either. It’s not a good way of making retirement, so I’m not going to hand out the plan, my part of it, to you or anybody. Those who paid me also paid me to forget why they paid me. As to what they hope to gain? I suspect that they hope to gain personally from the chaos that changes always seem to generate. Or, perhaps, they are catspaws in a greater conspiracy. The raven-haired woman whose coin passed over my palm most certainly isn’t at the top of this conspiracy. She’s a middleman, I’d guess. There’s a history in this city, one of your Lion flipping his small counsel on a regular basis, all but one figure, or so I’ve observed. Perhaps this is part of such a plot, or, perhaps, one or more at the top are conspiring against the status que.”
While Mordecai hadn’t spent much of his developing years worrying about such things it was common knowledge in the wine sinks and taverns of Tarantis that Monach the Canny has been Chief Advisor to Altar the Lion since Altar succeeded his father, Bandar the Lion. The whole upper crust of the city was rife with scandals, payoffs, and in the dark conflicts with many a floob like Hadara playing their parts.
As the pair makes their way through the sewers Mordecai knows that unsavory floobs are not the only things that use the understreets, both as a means to move about the city but as lairs and hunting grounds. Several times they came across lone rats, some as big as small dogs. These sniffed the air in the pair’s direction than scurried away. There were larger rats, too, he knew, and packs of considerable size, roaming certain areas of the sewers.
The sewers also had other challenges. The unwary could find themselves falling into a water covered hole leading to lower channels that swept out into the bay with each tide. Side rooms that offered hiding places, abandoned junk and stolen goods that were no longer valuable to anyone, and the occasional poorly laid trap. Some set by the city works in a lame attempt at controlling the rat (and other vermin) populations, others meant as mantraps, set by thugs and others. These too, rarely lasted long. Between the high moisture content and regular movement of others, the traps deteriorated rapidly or were set off, only to be forgotten.
Mordecai, wishing he suddenly had a ten-foot pole, uses his glaive to push around anything he perceives to be suspicious. He walks carefully, noting the pattern of the water's movement to ensure the pair doesn't slide down to a lower level.
He says to Hadara, "Let's light the torch up - I don't want us falling down here. My eyesight is good in the dark, but still better with some light."
“You don’t have to ask twice.” There was a brief flicker than the yellow glow widened and brighten as the flame took hold on the torch’s oil soaked, rope wrapped head.
If there was any one disadvantage to his choice was the fact that, like the gatehouses separating the city quarters, there were a limited number of tunnels and passages linking each quarters sewer system with the others. And this was commonly known by those who made it their business to know. This crosses Mordecai’s mind as they approached the closet such connector. The tunnel was wide enough for him to stand and stretch both hands out on either side of him and barely touch the walls. The tunnel lead into a small series of rooms, junctions for smaller clay and stone pipes as well as a stone stairwell leading up to the gatehouse that Lilita had sacrificed herself to allow them to retreat as well as leading to a deeper cistern where much of the wastes collected, awaiting the next lunar tide. If there were a place to set an ambush, this was a good one.
“Well, I can’t say with any honesty that light improves the ambiance, I – “
Mordecai hushes Hadara. They carefully and quietly approach the choke point. Mordecai looks for signs of recent traversal and set traps. He pushes forward knowing that they have no other option.
“What is that smell?” groused the fugitive, “smells like half the jakes in the city are having a convention.” It wasn’t the smell, however, that caught the Half-Orc’s eyes. It was a swarm of rats crawling over a body lying in a side room. A body whose body heat was in its last stages of leaching away. Several rats got into a tussle and fell aside, revealing an elven looking face. A female elven face.
(Is it a face he recognizes?) GM Notes: No, but you can tell she was very attractive, once, with long, golden hair. A few gemstones glitter in the reflected light, along with a dozen beady red eyes. The rats protest and squirm, caught between the desire to keep feasting and caution.
Mordecai thinks to himself, "That is a sad sight." GM Note: I struck out Hadara’s comment.
Stifling a cough from the smell, he finally whispers, "Let's keep going - no reason to give those rats access to a fresher meal. Keep quiet - there may be more than rats here."
“Are you sure? I mean, she’s still wearing her jewelry” – the man points at a broach, a ring, and a bracelet. “That gown looks expensive – okay, “Hadara shrugged, “looked expensive once. Manicured fingernails, perfect teeth, look at her hair, it was artfully styled. She’s someone of means, or at least, someone who was kept quite well.”
"I'd normally pass on the jewelry, given we're in a hurry, but it is odd that she'd be down here - unless it was a ransom gone wrong," Mordecai states. He pulls a second torch from his pack. Holding it out, he tells Hadara, "Light it up."
Glaive in one hand, and torch in the other, he attempts to scare off the rat swarm with the fire. "Most rats don't care for fire," comments Mordecai, "but these might not be most rats." [GM Rat's reaction = 28%]
Most of the rats scattered at their approach. The two largest stood their ground, without effort, Mordecai impaled them without effort than pulling the elven woman out of the room to shallower water, against the wall in the main tunnel where he looks her over for any identifying marks, names, notes anything that could give clues to the identity of the woman. He also tries to figure out how she died asking for Hadara for advice on this point given that he seems to be an expert.
After a moment Hadara was shaking his head. “I don’t know, I mean, there’s no obvious signs of wounds or strangle marks. I – wait, what’s this.” The fugitive was carefully moving the elf woman’s head and pulling back her long hair. There was a single, clean puncture wound on the back of her neck. “What do you think?
"Too clean of a puncture to be any weapon I know of," comments Mordecai. "There would be bruising from the impact - unless whatever did that was incredibly sharp and capable of a lot of pressure, sort of like a vice."
The fugitive nodded as he peered closer at the wound.
Mordecai, after a brief thoughtful silence, says, "The strangest part though is that I see no evidence of a struggle. If she were fighting whatever did this to her, that puncture wouldn't be clean, and we'd see bruising elsewhere on her at the points she was either tied up or held."
Hadara ran a fingernail lightly over the puncture and frowned again. “I’ve seen a few exotic weapons, you know, like ice picks, do similar damage but they are usually larger. Then there’s the discoloration around the site, almost as if someone bit her.” His figure traced darkened bruising in the vague shape of a human or humanoid mouth that was offset slightly, leaving the puncture wound as part of the right side of the bite.
“The way she was laying kept the rats from getting at this part yet,” Hadara observed with professional interest, his eyes flickering over her body. “Latest fashion, Vandsari silk with golden threads, expensive. Look at the ring, it has some sort of runes etched into gems. Magical, maybe.”
He pulls the jewelry off the woman as well, the broach, the ring and the bracelet. He comments to Hadara, "We'll take a better look at these above grounds."
“Agreed. Here, take these too,” Hadara says as he pushes part of the dress aside to remove a small pouch strapped to the Elf's thigh, along with a slender, crystal tipped wand. The man shrugged, "It's not stealing. She's dead, she won't need any of this, neither will the rats I assume." He shrugs again. "Never know about rats, though."
Mordecai let's a chuckle slip, before commenting, "Keen eye, Hadara."
Leaving the body against the wall, Mordecai looks down at it with some sadness. "Let's go Hadara - we can't afford more distractions."
Turning away from the unfortunate elf Hadara shook his head.
This set several things into motion. The younger guard lunged to catch her just as the older one’s jaw drops open. “Don’t touch her, she’s infected!” [young guard’s Dex save = 9]
“Crap!” shouts the younger guard as he jerks his arms away and stumbles past, tripping over the now prone healer.
The older guard’s hand fumbles for the hilt of his sword for a moment even as he steps back another step. “Gods, woman, why walk them to the docks? A covered cart in the middle of the night is the usual, one marked with, well, damnit, you know!”
“She was showing her Healing Guild Sigil, Garth,” the younger guard groused from where he was sitting up. A moment passed than his head jerked around, towards the street leading into the Common (Poor) Quarter. “Where’d those walkin’ dead go? By the gods, Garth, what if tha captain finds out we let them run off?”
“Shut up, Benat.” The older guard glared at Lilita, sword hilt forgotten. “It’s her fault, not ours!” He waved a finger in her direction, “What are those brainfarts at the Healer’s Guild teaching you pups these days?”
“Garth – “
Garth cut Benat off with a slash of his hand. “Not ‘our’ problem, boy. It’s the healer’s problem!”
Lilita doesn't look! Doesn't dare open eyes or move, she just lays there and pretends to be unconscious listening as they talk and what they say. Giving Mord and Hadara plenty of time to get out of view not wanting to take any more risks with their lives being how she screwed so badly. She wishes them the best and good luck in her mind and waits for least 20 or 30 minutes or until the guards go to move her or time runs out and she figures or hopes that they (Mord and Hadara) are far away and safe.
Some twenty minutes later the guards are still arguing about what to do, who to report too, and whether they should bring her inside or go for another healer. Getting get up as if coming around, she heads back the way she came unless the guards stop her, looking to head back home...
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Hoping that it is sufficient time for her two companions to make their escape Lilita pretends to come round and rise up to her feet hoping the guards will not seek to stop her, should they try to take into custody then she will surrender herself to them without a word unwilling to give up Mordecai or Hadara not matter what so if they continue talking as she heard before pushing to blame her... then she will take full responsibility and attempt to allay their fears by trying to explain that she is not infected and she merely fainted from stress and overwork as the Guild had been working her night and day without sleep and that she will seek to round up the infected and get them through the gate.
So Lilita if that works, she will head back the way she came so if she does happen to catch sight of Mordecai and/or Hadara she will explain what happened and that though risky she might be able to lead them past the gate and to the docks but they would need to decide if it is worth the risk and she would follow as they decided. Note that she does not expect this to happen but is prepared in her mind should they still be about. More than likely they are long gone so she will have no other option than to return home.
Once far enough away from the guards (if they don't arrest her) Lilita will sob and cry!!! Her mind racing, her spirit broken... blaming herself as she had to do, just one little thing... get them through the gate and even that she failed miserably. She messed it all up and most likely cost those two men their very lives and nothing would make for that, nothing!!!
Lilita feels completely worthless, miserable, and guilt-ridden as she walks along crying the whole way back to home to her Vardo. There she will pack a bag with some of her meager possessions and grabs Tulip and her pot and leaves the rest belongings behind. Then locks up her cherished Vardo one last time... heading straight on to work without any sleep. Heading directly for Pencelot’s Healing Shop... as Lilita has work to perform even though she is weak and feeling exhausted, totally drained! At least she has Tulip with her to provide some companionship.
Lilita pushes herself forward, rubbing her teary eyes on her sleeve. Once at the healing shop she begins her duties to clean things and gets the shop ready for business to attend to any customers that show up... as she does this she plans to live in the back of the shop until Pencelot returns so that she can resign her position, she cannot do so until his return as there would not to look after the shop or customers needing assistance. So as long as it takes days, etc. she stays a recluse at the shop and will not come out except for food and then only as absolutely necessary and not at any point head to her Vardo ever again knowing what she needs to do and is committed to it.
So that once Pencelot returns, she will tell him and leave immediately, without delay and head out of the city into the countryside to find grove dedicated to Eldath, the Goddess of Peace and become a hermit nun and find a cave or such to live alone with just Tulip. That is her plan/intention anyway...
"Well, I think young Effie will remember this afternoon for quite a while. She's a nice girl, though, and I'd hate to see her toyed with..." Livvi gives the young man a quick, but stern, look as they follow the barmaid's directions to Pencelot’s Herbery in the afternoon sun.
Cadrian's smile broadens. “My dear, if you wish to keep your prized ewe as you wish, best not introduce her to the wolf you barely know! But rest assured, my intentions are mostly honorable. I was testing her to see how her head spins in the company of nobility, and my answer tells me she may not be a safe person to discuss our current quarry around. I'm sure she is a useful resource for information and gossip for you, but in this I'd leave her out of your exploits. Beyond that, I am assured of getting excellent service the next time I visit, and she has some pleasant things to get her through her day. It also is a nice touch to add concern for her friends" to the assets I attribute to you. my colleague." He chuckles as they walk, cutting an impressive image of courtly grace and willful presence.
The walk takes them through twists and alleys, often just tunnels between buildings built so closely together that the light of the sun rarely reaches the ground. In some places they walk through a tunnel where the two buildings have built connecting rooms above ground level, walking on the street at ground level but under the floor to the 1st level. There are torch sconces here for the night, although in the poorer sections they are rarely lit. Pencelot’s is located on one of the cleaner, better cared for streets within the Laborer’s Quarter (poor quarter to many), nestled between a large bakery and a potter’s establishment. The shop was narrow and only had a second floor with a flat roof that was common in older parts of Tarantis. The shingle hanging above the door showed the healer’s guild sigil as well as the symbol of the goddess of nature, Eldath. The green painted double doors were open to allow in the afternoon sun as well as to further invite those in need to come inside.
Entering the outer room there were several benches, empty now of those in need of healing. A couple of potted plants grew in each corner, emitting refreshing smells that soothed and calmed if allowed.
Livvi quickly scan the building, looking for the Grey Lady herself, or any signs that might point to her. She remembered the scent of herbs from the other night, thinking maybe they were on the right track. Perception: 13 She wasn’t wrong because in the next moment a familiar young woman enters the room and looks startled for a moment.
Lilita blushes and fidgets nervously... her eyes politely and respectfully downcast as she speaks in a shy hushed whispered voice, "good afternoon, m'lord... m'lady... how may I be of assistance?"
Livvi sighs in relief - somehow, she had managed to find the girl despite the odds! She reaches into her pack and pulls out Lilita's shoes, holding them out to her and smiling. "I believe you left these in Avgrat's...and I wanted to return them to you and see how you were. What can you tell me about the man you were speaking to in the store, the nobleman in the blue turban? He charged out after you and I was afraid he meant you harm. I tried to follow but lost you in the mists." OK - she hadn't really lost them - but Livvi felt the white lie was easier than going into greater details about how she had found, and then lost, the man. And how she had almost stabbed her best friend in her fear...
Lilita brightens somewhat at the sight of her shoes. Bowing respectfully to the Half-Elf, eyes downcast never once looking her (them) directly in the she says, "thank you m'lady, it was most kind of you to return them to me, my old shoes are poor and hurt my feet, so I am happy to have these back."
At the mention of the nobleman in the blue turban Lilita looks at the half-elf blankly and shyly responds, "I am sorry m'lady but I don't know the nobleman or his name, I only just encountered him for the first and only time in the shop."
Lilita bows and takes Livvi's hand and kisses it lightly in respect and gratitude for taking the time and showing the kindness to return them. In doing so, (and because of your perception check) Livvi can see Lilita’s puffy, red eyes. All the earmarks of someone who has been crying most of the day.
Livvi never takes her eyes from the Grey Lady - Lilita...she should remember to use her name and not the nickname Livvi had formed for her. Her red, puffy eyes and Livvi's guilt and imagination combined to make her think that the worst had happened - the monster had found the girl last night despite Livvi's efforts to protect her!
Cadrian introduces himself with a bow before politely addressing Lilita, "Excuse me, miss, but could we speak to Master Pencelot? We would like to ask a question or two, if he can but spare a moment."
Lilita turns her gaze downward shyly not making eye contact then speaks in a hushed yet respectful whisper in response, "apologies m'lord but Master Pencelot is unavailable as he is on retreat outside the city, but I expect him back within the week."
"I'm looking for information on the Healing House of the Black Rose. I know they have a questionable past, but I am suspicious that dark deeds are being performed there. I have seen them taking advantage of a girl who is an inmate of theirs, and I am determined that no further harm come to her or any others in their care if I can lend my influence to stop them. I need any information I can get that will enable me to open up their enterprises and stop them if they are, as I suspect, pledged to evil intent."
Lilita does not look surprised. "The Black Rose is perhaps the most famous and prestigious of healing houses in all the city I doubt if there is a soul in the city not aware of it or its reputation. Other than that, I know nothing beyond its location and that they only employ the most talented and skilled healers who graduate from the Healer's Guild. Like everyone else at the guild after I had completed my studies, I sought to apply for a position with Representatives from the Black Rose but was not even tested. Rather they took one look at me and said I was too common a flower to ever be permitted to work there and thus... they turned me away without an interview or a test to measure my healing abilities or potential. I have never been inside the Black Rose, I have only ever looked upon its exterior from the street outside."
Livvi cocks her head at Lilita's description of her financial status, and asks, "Dear one, if you have no fortune or steady income, then what were you doing in the fine clothier's shop last night? You probably couldn't afford anything from there, and you certainly don't strike me as a dreamer or a girl inclined to fanciful whims. And didn't I see you outside the Black Rose the other morning? It seems the hand of fate is determined to bring us together..."
Looking pale and nervous, Lilita responds again, her voice still meek and trembling; “the tailor near my home identified that shop as the shop that made the cloths of the strange woman who vanished in the night while I was treating her. I was concerned for her wellbeing and only sought to try to find out who she was and if she was alright. So, I traveled to that shop after I finished working here but before I could talk to the shop owner a Nobleman, a customer there I think frightened me and I did not wish to find myself obligated to such a man, so I fled back to my home. I did not learn the woman's name, etc. or was able to do or learn anything more since I was unable to speak to the shop owner."
Cadrian listens politely to Lilita's information, maintaining a comforting smile while his mind worked. "Hmmm, yes, that is the public image, certainly. I still have my suspicions, but such a one seems unassailable with naught but suspicions. Perhaps the two events are unconnected..."
"I must ask your pardon, me. my good Lady Healer. I am Lord Cadrian du Flynn, meddler and overall do-gooder. As Mistress Livvi has related to me, you have had a bit of a frightful encounter, and I would very much be interested in investigating the one who seemed to have discomfited you. If you can tell me anything of the events in Master Avgrat's shop, it may be inordinately useful. I would ask you leave no detail you can recall out. I also assure you that anything you tell me will be held in the strictest of confidence, on my honor and my soul."
In a fearful whisper, Lilita responds, "there is nothing really to tell, the nobleman was very polite in his manner and speech to me, almost fatherly had I ever known a father that is what I might imagine. He merely wanted to buy expensive slippers for me, wished me to try them on. But I am unused to the attention of men... noble or otherwise. I do not trust the motives of any man and the longer I found myself in his presence the more uncomfortable I became. I am not a tart and did not wish a gift from a stranger and worried that accepting such may somehow obligate me. Still, he was a nobleman, so I did not wish to offend him by refusing him... so when the opportunity presented itself, I fled into the night. I have never seen the nobleman before or since... nor do I know his name. I swear by the goddess I am truthful and telling all that I know. If I wronged her ladyship in abandoning her to the nobleman's attention, then I am deeply sorry and willing to accept whatever punishment she deems necessary."
"Oh, dear girl, I am no noble to be called a lady. Perhaps I was born to a better family and had more gifts and opportunities, but there is no need for you to feel inferior to me! Come, Lilita. Sit here with me for a moment longer. Is that alright?" Livvi takes hold of the girl's hands and quietly asks, "Are you OK? I can tell you've been crying - something other than our presence here now has you greatly upset. Did that monster get to you last night? I am so sorry that I could not protect you from him!! It's going to be alright...just tell me everything. As Lord du Flynn says, we will see that the noble beast is caught so that he doesn't harm other girls! Oh, look - you are shaking! Do you want some tea? That always helps me..."
Lilita is somewhat taken aback by the Half-Elf maiden's forward and assertive manner in her master's shop but understands such is the way of those of privilege as the meek Lilita assumes that such an exotic and beautiful fey maid, of course, must be of noble birth! Hearing the mention of tea Lilita is given the impression this must be a polite way of reminding her that she is being lax in her duty as a host with noble guests having never before entertained or interacted with high borns.
"Tea!," she blushes with embarrassment, "please forgive m'lady... you require tea. I am so sorry, where are my manners. Just a moment please, I am not used to attending such as yourself."
Lilita quickly and rather nervously scrambles to locate a clean pot or kettle, fill it with water and put it on the fire to heat. While the water is heating Lilita looks through the shop for something... anything she can find to serve with the tea as well as a suitable cup for her ladyship.
Clearly the young woman was stalling, perhaps struggling internally with something that she didn’t want to talk openly about. Lilita’s eyes kept flickering towards where Cadrian stood, looking impatient.
Several minutes later nervously Lilita serves and pours the tea for Livvi and whispers respectfully, "I am sorry m'lady, if I have forgotten something, please don't be cross with me. I do not mean to offend. Just tell me what else you require with your tea... if the biscuits are too stale or insufficient, it is all we have. I can run to the bakery nearby and find you something more suitable if you require."
Lilita herself would not think taking tea with someone like Livvi so remains on her feet not wishing to sit in her presence or to somehow upset her and so only pours a cup of tea for the elf-maiden herself. Lilita, looking at Livvi shyly unsure what to do next attempts to answer her questions, "yes m'lady I have been crying, forgive me, but not about the nobleman but a separate private matter that does not involve you or the nobleman. As I have already told you I only just saw the nobleman of which you speak in the clothes shop. I have not seen him since I ran away so I really have no idea what you are talking about. I wish that I could be of more help to you, I really do. I swear by the goddess I have spoken only the truth to you! If the nobleman has done something to you or to offend you then I am truly sorry I ran away and left, you with him. Far better for someone like me to suffer than someone such as yourself, the fault is entirely mine."
Lilita turns and locates a long birch stick and hands it to Livvi and drops to her knees before her and holds up her own open trembling hands for the elf maiden to strike her hands/fingers as a form of punishment hoping that this will be enough to satisfy and end the questioning... terrified that Livvi will call the guard and have her arrested and imprisoned! Her eyes downcast waiting...
Livvi's exasperated sigh can be heard in the silent shop, and her eye roll is visible to anyone looking. This is not how she expected the Grey Lady to be - so meek and submissive. But she had dealt with this type before - the next few moments would be critical to Livvi's ongoing investigation. She debates in her mind for the width of two breaths, looking at Lilita and the switch, then glancing at Cadrian. Locking eyes with the mage, she shrugs, turns back to Lilita and takes the switch. In the blink of an eye, Livvi strikes Lilita three times across her forearms. As the thin red welts spring into existence against the pale skin of the healer, Livvi intones the following ritualistic phrase, "Struck thrice to pay the price; cleanse the sin; healing begin. You are absolved of any wrongdoing, perceived or actual. Let it be remembered no more." She hands the birch stick back to Lilita, then gently strokes her hair. "You have no need to beg my forgiveness ever again. Understand? I am not a noble and you are not my servant. We are equals. And I will not have my equal scrabbling about on the floor like a slave or a coward. So suck it up, buttercup, and put a stave in your spine! Sit here with me, drink some tea, and tell us more about this woman who disappeared. What did she look like? Did she have silver hair? How did she act? You said that you were asking about the clothes she wore - do you still have them? Is there anything else you can tell us about her or that night?"
Lilita blinked and reeled backwards as if struck in the face. Tears welled up once more, than there was a slight shriek. In the corner a potted plan suddenly seemed to leap up, leaf covered twigs waving and shaking a warning. “You, you can’t understand!” the girl wailed, a desperation in her eyes that was unnatural. Cadrian looked alarmed, his eyebrows beetling as Lilita screamed in terror.
“Those eyes! I can still see them.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper again. One hand gripped Livvi’s tightly as Lilita leaned closer. “Don’t you understand? H – he showed me things; in my mind, you know? Terrible, immoral things. What he wanted; what he demanded… N – no! I- I’ve said too much!”
Leaping to her feet Lilita tore at the front of her thin dress, ripping it easily as she raced from the room and into the street. The shrub rushed after her, pausing only long enough to grab Lilita’s shoes.
Cadrian glances at Livvi and says, “She’s under the grip of some powerful magic. She’s a danger to herself and maybe others. We must stop her,” Cadrian says as he turns to go after the Grey Lady.
Livvi is only two steps behind the Lord as he exits the shop. Her mind was running twice as quickly as her feet, running what the girl said over and over and trying to make sense of it. The noble had projected images into her mind? The fact that they were probably of a very graphic and sexual nature was not a surprise - Livvi saw the way that he looked at the Grey Lady. But he must have had some kind of powerful magic beyond just exuding attraction and grace. Livvi's fey ancestry made her much less susceptible to magical charms, but she would still be more cautious if their paths crossed again. And she was more certain with every step that they would. And that it would end badly for at least one of them...
"Careful now - she is well and truly frantic! We don't want to cause any more harm to her delicate psyche!" Livvi calls out to Cadrian, then mentally adds in a mocking voice, "...at least, not any more than I have already caused by switching her...Damn it, what do we do if we catch her? We can't take her to the Black Rose, despite what everyone else in the city would tell us. And we don't know any other healers here. I guess I could ask Bilina - but I'm not ready to reveal my connection with her to this Lord du Flynn yet. Guess we have to catch her first..." Livvi tries to keep up, but Lilita is surprisingly nimble and knows the streets much better than either of her pursuers.
Up ahead Lilita could be see, hair flying behind her as she wove in and out of traffic. Occasionally someone would shout or yell a warning, others scrambled to get out of the half-clad woman’s erratic path. Once or twice Livvi caught sight of the small shrub as well. It seemed to gather far more attention than the healer girl. Yell’s and shouts turned to shrieks and even louder shouts. Several rough looking sorts seemed to be taking up the pursuit as well.
As they continue, Mordecai tries to peer into the side rooms stealthily and quickly, hoping to find no one, but hoping to catch off guard anyone he does. Now past the chock point and into the dock quarter, the tunnels were wetter, some with fungus or mold growing on various parts. A shallow stream of murky water flowed slowly at their feet. As they moved closer towards the docks themselves the smell of the bay grew. Rotting fish mixing with the offal and other odors expected in a city’s sewers.
Keeping close, Hadara was still shaking his head. “You ever hear of Stirges?”
"Stirges? Big leathery mosquito like creatures, right? I could be wrong as I've never actually seen one - only heard of them. Like mosquitos, they drain your blood. You think what killed that girl was a stirge?" Mordecai responds.
“Maybe. I mean, it’s rumored that the creatures can live in sewers, especially in the deeper regions where, in some cities, the manmade works breech into older underground works or natural cavern systems.”
"I don't know," Mordecai continues, "If a wild animal had attacked her, the result would have been more violent. Besides, I saw you trace the bruising around the puncture - it was vaguely humanoid. What are you suspecting, Hadara?"
Hadara shifted his torch to his other hand and took a handkerchief from a pocket and wiped his face. “Too many questions back there, you know? She wasn’t dressed for traversing the sewers and the wealthy, assuming she’s wealthy and not simply ‘kept’, generally avoid the sewers as a rule. Plus, did you notice how much of her body was intact? The rats had only been at her a short time. An hour? Maybe less. Also, I didn’t notice anything wrong with the back of her feet or shoes. She wasn’t dragged there. It was as if she were deposited. Somebody or bodies carried her there and left. Which bothers me even more. Do you know many minions or hired help that would have gotten rid of a body and left the valuables behind?”
Mordecai thinks for a moment before saying, "Fear or fanaticism. The minions either fear their master enough to follow orders to the letter or are so enthralled that they have no need for the material goods."
Hadara nodded thoughtfully.
"It seems," Mordecai continues, "she was used and then disposed of... I agree, the body is fresh - this happened tonight. I've never seen or heard of this before - which is worrisome. You'd be surprised how much gossip goes on in the business, something like this would have been talked about."
Hadara didn’t hesitate this time. “Honestly, I am baffled by that whole scene, which is rare. Something terrible happened to that Elf lady, that cannot be denied, and it looks like some sort of attack, yet one that she didn’t suspect or couldn’t resist. That was a bite wound of some sort, I am positive of that, but what?” He shakes his head.
Coming to one of the last exits leading to the streets above before reaching the outlets emptying into the bay proper, they paused. Hadara caught Mordecai’s eyes. “I don’t know if we’ll get the time once we hit the streets again, but I wanted to thank you. You’ve been straight forward and kept your word through this thing. I owe you my life, even if I’m just a bounty for you.” The man held up one hand and chuckled. “It’s nothing personal, that. We’re all trying to make a living of some sort. Still, you could have been brutal or worse. Anyway, thank you.”
Mordecai accepts Hadara's handshake and says, "I try to keep to my own rules and code... and what happened at the tavern was wrong - although, indirectly, they might be proven right it. Besides, we're not in the clear yet - let's go."
"Well, I think young Effie will remember this afternoon for quite a while. She's a nice girl, though, and I'd hate to see her toyed with..." Livvi gives the young man a quick, but stern, look as they follow the barmaid's directions to Pencelot’s Herbery in the afternoon sun.
Cadrian's smile broadens. “My dear, if you wish to keep your prized ewe as you wish, best not introduce her to the wolf you barely know! But rest assured, my intentions are mostly honorable. I was testing her to see how her head spins in the company of nobility, and my answer tells me she may not be a safe person to discuss our current quarry around. I'm sure she is a useful resource for information and gossip for you, but in this I'd leave her out of your exploits. Beyond that, I am assured of getting excellent service the next time I visit, and she has some pleasant things to get her through her day. It also is a nice touch to add concern for her friends" to the assets I attribute to you. my colleague." He chuckles as they walk, cutting an impressive image of courtly grace and willful presence.
The walk takes them through twists and alleys, often just tunnels between buildings built so closely together that the light of the sun rarely reaches the ground. In some places they walk through a tunnel where the two buildings have built connecting rooms above ground level, walking on the street at ground level but under the floor to the 1st level. There are torch sconces here for the night, although in the poorer sections they are rarely lit.
Pencelot’s is located on one of the cleaner, better cared for streets within the Laborer’s Quarter (poor quarter to many), nestled between a large bakery and a potter’s establishment. The shop was narrow and only had a second floor with a flat roof that was common in older parts of Tarantis. The shingle hanging above the door showed the healer’s guild sigil as well as the symbol of the goddess of nature, Eldath. The green painted double doors were open to allow in the afternoon sun as well as to further invite those in need to come inside.
Entering the outer room there were several benches, empty now of those in need of healing. A couple of potted plants grew in each corner, emitting refreshing smells that soothed and calmed if allowed.
Livvi quickly scans the building, looking for someone. A moment later a young woman dressed in a rough spun grey dress enters from the back room. A startled look comes to her face as its obvious that she recognizes Livvi.
Lilita blushes and fidgets nervously... her eyes politely and respectfully downcast as she speaks in a shy hushed whispered voice, "good afternoon, m'lord... m'lady... how may I be of assistance?"
Livvi sighs in relief. She reaches into her pack and pulls out Lilita's shoes, holding them out to her and smiling. "I believe you left these in Avgrat's...and I wanted to return them to you and see how you were. What can you tell me about the man you were speaking to in the store, the nobleman in the blue turban? He charged out after you and I was afraid he meant you harm. I tried to follow but lost you in the mists."
Lilita brightens somewhat at the sight of her shoes. Bowing respectfully to the Half-Elf, eyes downcast never once looking her (them) directly in the she says, "thank you m'lady, it was most kind of you to return them to me, my old shoes are poor and hurt my feet, so I am happy to have these back."
At the mention of the nobleman in the blue turban Lilita looks at the half-elf blankly and shyly responds, "I am sorry m'lady but I don't know the nobleman or his name, I only just encountered him for the first and only time in the shop."
Lilita as she bows and out of gratitude takes Livvi's hand and kisses it lightly in respect and gratitude for taking the time and showing the kindness to return them...
Cadrian introduces himself with a bow before politely addressing Lilita, "Excuse me, miss, but could we speak to Master Pencelot? We would like to ask a question or two, if he can but spare a moment."
Lilita turns her gaze downward shyly not making eye contact then speaks in a hushed yet respectful whisper in response, "apologies m'lord but Master Pencelot is unavailable as he is on retreat outside the city, but I expect him back within the week."
"I'm looking for information on the Healing House of the Black Rose. I know they have a questionable past, but I am suspicious that dark deeds are being performed there. I have seen them taking advantage of a girl who is an inmate of theirs, and I am determined that no further harm come to her or any others in their care if I can lend my influence to stop them. I need any information I can get that will enable me to open up their enterprises and stop them if they are, as I suspect, pledged to evil intent."
Lilita does not look surprised. "The Black Rose is perhaps the most famous and prestigious of healing houses in all the city I doubt if there is a soul in the city not aware of it or its reputation. Other than that, I know nothing beyond its location and that they only employ the most talented and skilled healers who graduate from the Healer's Guild. Like everyone else at the guild after I had completed my studies, I sought to apply for a position with Representatives from the Black Rose but was not even tested. Rather they took one look at me and said I was too common a flower to ever be permitted to work there and thus... they turned me away without an interview or a test to measure my healing abilities or potential. I have never been inside the Black Rose, I have only ever looked upon its exterior from the street outside."
Livvi cocks her head at Lilita's description of her financial status, and asks, "Dear one, if you have no fortune or steady income, then what were you doing in the fine clothier's shop last night? You probably couldn't afford anything from there, and you certainly don't strike me as a dreamer or a girl inclined to fanciful whims. And didn't I see you outside the Black Rose the other morning? It seems the hand of fate is determined to bring us together..."
Looking pale and nervous, Lilita responds again, her voice still meek and trembling; “the tailor near my home identified that shop as the shop that made the cloths of the strange woman who vanished in the night while I was treating her. I was concerned for her wellbeing and only sought to try to find out who she was and if she was alright. So, I traveled to that shop after I finished working here but before I could talk to the shop owner a Nobleman, a customer there I think frightened me and I did not wish to find myself obligated to such a man, so I fled back to my home. I did not learn the woman's name, etc. or was able to do or learn anything more since I was unable to speak to the shop owner."
Cadrian listens politely to Lilita's information, maintaining a comforting smile while his mind worked. "Hmmm, yes, that is the public image, certainly. I still have my suspicions, but such a one seems unassailable with naught but suspicions. Perhaps the two events are unconnected..."
"I must ask your pardon, me. my good Lady Healer. I am Lord Cadrian du Flynn, meddler and overall do-gooder. As Mistress Livvi has related to me, you have had a bit of a frightful encounter, and I would very much be interested in investigating the one who seemed to have discomfited you. If you can tell me anything of the events in Master Avgrat's shop, it may be inordinately useful. I would ask you leave no detail you can recall out. I also assure you that anything you tell me will be held in the strictest of confidence, on my honor and my soul."
In a fearful whisper, Lilita responds, "there is nothing really to tell, the nobleman was very polite in his manner and speech to me, almost fatherly had I ever known a father that is what I might imagine. He merely wanted to buy expensive slippers for me, wished me to try them on. But I am unused to the attention of men... noble or otherwise. I do not trust the motives of any man and the longer I found myself in his presence the more uncomfortable I became. I am not a tart and did not wish a gift from a stranger and worried that accepting such may somehow obligate me. Still, he was a nobleman, so I did not wish to offend him by refusing him... so when the opportunity presented itself, I fled into the night. I have never seen the nobleman before or since... nor do I know his name. I swear by the goddess I am truthful and telling all that I know. If I wronged her ladyship in abandoning her to the nobleman's attention, then I am deeply sorry and willing to accept whatever punishment she deems necessary."
"Oh, dear girl, I am no noble to be called a lady. Perhaps I was born to a better family and had more gifts and opportunities, but there is no need for you to feel inferior to me! Come, Lilita. Sit here with me for a moment longer. Is that alright?" Livvi takes hold of the girl's hands and quietly asks, "Are you OK? I can tell you've been crying - something other than our presence here now has you greatly upset. Did that monster get to you last night? I am so sorry that I could not protect you from him!! It's going to be alright...just tell me everything. As Lord du Flynn says, we will see that the noble beast is caught so that he doesn't harm other girls! Oh, look - you are shaking! Do you want some tea? That always helps me..."
Lilita is somewhat taken aback by the Half-Elf maiden's forward and assertive manner in her master's shop.
"Tea!," she blushes with embarrassment, "please forgive m'lady... you require tea. I am so sorry, where are my manners. Just a moment please, I am not used to attending such as yourself."
Lilita quickly and rather nervously scrambles to locate a clean pot or kettle, fill it with water and put it on the fire to heat. While the water is heating Lilita looks through the shop for something... anything she can find to serve with the tea as well as a suitable cup for her ladyship.
Clearly the young woman was stalling, perhaps struggling internally with something that she didn’t want to talk openly about. Lilita’s eyes kept flickering towards where Cadrian stood, looking impatient.
Several minutes later nervously Lilita serves and pours the tea for Livvi and whispers respectfully, "I am sorry m'lady, if I have forgotten something, please don't be cross with me. I do not mean to offend. Just tell me what else you require with your tea... if the biscuits are too stale or insufficient, it is all we have. I can run to the bakery nearby and find you something more suitable if you require."
Lilita turns and locates a long birch stick and hands it to Livvi and drops to her knees before her and holds up her own open trembling hands for the elf maiden to strike her hands/fingers as a form of punishment hoping that this will be enough to satisfy and end the questioning... terrified that Livvi will call the guard and have her arrested and imprisoned! Her eyes downcast waiting...
Livvi's exasperated sigh can be heard in the silent shop, and her eye roll is visible to anyone looking. The Half-elf’s eyes looks at Lilita and the switch, then glancing at Cadrian. Locking eyes with the mage, she shrugs, turns back to Lilita and takes the switch. In the blink of an eye, Livvi strikes Lilita three times across her forearms. As the thin red welts spring into existence against the pale skin of the healer, Livvi intones the following ritualistic phrase, "Struck thrice to pay the price; cleanse the sin; healing begin. You are absolved of any wrongdoing, perceived or actual. Let it be remembered no more." She hands the birch stick back to Lilita, then gently strokes her hair. "You have no need to beg my forgiveness ever again. Understand? I am not a noble and you are not my servant. We are equals. And I will not have my equal scrabbling about on the floor like a slave or a coward. So suck it up, buttercup, and put a stave in your spine! Sit here with me, drink some tea, and tell us more about this woman who disappeared. What did she look like? Did she have silver hair? How did she act? You said that you were asking about the clothes she wore - do you still have them? Is there anything else you can tell us about her or that night?"
Lilita blinked and reeled backwards as if struck in the face. Tears welled up once more, than there was a slight shriek. In the corner a potted plan suddenly seemed to leap up, leaf covered twigs waving and shaking a warning. “You, you can’t understand!” the girl wailed, a desperation in her eyes that was unnatural. Cadrian looked alarmed, his eyebrows beetling as Lilita screamed in terror.
“Those eyes! I can still see them.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper again. One hand gripped Livvi’s tightly as Lilita leaned closer. “Don’t you understand? H – he showed me things; in my mind, you know? Terrible, immoral things. What he wanted; what he demanded… N – no! I- I’ve said too much!”
Leaping to her feet Lilita tore at the front of her thin dress, ripping it easily as she raced from the room and into the street. The shrub rushed after her, pausing only long enough to grab Lilita’s shoes.
Cadrian glances at Livvi and says, “She’s under the grip of some powerful magic. She’s a danger to herself and maybe others. We must stop her,” Cadrian says as he turns to go after the Grey Lady.
Livvi is only two steps behind the Lord as he exits the shop.
"Careful now - she is well and truly frantic! We don't want to cause any more harm to her delicate psyche!" Livvi calls out to Cadrian, then mentally adds in a mocking voice, "...at least, not any more than I have already caused by switching her...Damn it, what do we do if we catch her? We can't take her to the Black Rose, despite what everyone else in the city would tell us. And we don't know any other healers here. I guess I could ask Bilina - but I'm not ready to reveal my connection with her to this Lord du Flynn yet. Guess we have to catch her first..." Livvi tries to keep up, but Lilita is surprisingly nimble and knows the streets much better than either of her pursuers.
Up ahead Lilita could be see, hair flying behind her as she wove in and out of traffic. Occasionally someone would shout or yell a warning, others scrambled to get out of the half-clad woman’s erratic path. Once or twice Livvi caught sight of the small shrub as well. It seemed to gather far more attention than the healer girl. Yell’s and shouts turned to shrieks and even louder shouts. Several rough looking sorts seemed to be taking up the pursuit as well.
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Cadrian’s long legs carried him along as he dodged and skipped around people in his way. “Keep after her, I’m going to cut across to the next street and see if I can’t get ahead of her!”
The morning’s regulars came and went, as did a few in the afternoon though, for the most part, the day had been uneventful. Enough time between visitors seeking healing and one or two who’d stopped in seeking advice on growing plants. Pencelot being a Druid, it wasn’t an uncommon event.
Lilita doesn't give the two visitors a second thought as such is after a common occurrence only hopes she can be of assistance since she is not nearly as knowledgeable on growing plants and herbalism as her master is, she merely dabbles and is not an expert. If she cannot be of any assistance, then is ready with her standard polite response of giving her apologies for being unable to answer their question and an idea when they can expect Pencelot to return to consult with him.
"My sincere apologies but I am only an apprentice and unable to assist you or answer that question(s) but I expect the master to return within the week if you care to come back and consult with him directly."
“Fully understandable,” they had said, then thanked her and commented that they’d be back in a few days to talk with Pencelot.
It was late afternoon when the next visitor entered the waiting room through the open double doors. She had the presence that was hard to forget. A Half-Elf dressed in a mixture of leathers and street ware, her hair tied back, swept in from the street, her posture both curious and demanding. Behind her came a was a tall, well-dressed man in his early thirties and nobody Lilita recognizes. However, she immediately connects the Half-Elf being the same one who had been in Avgrat’s last night.
Lilita blushes and starts to feel a bit uncomfortable when she recognizes the Half-Elf from the night before, she fidgets nervously... her eyes politely and respectfully downcast as she speaks in a shy hushed whispered voice, "good afternoon, m'lord... m'lady... how may I be of assistance?"
The Half-Elf sighs in relief. She reaches into her pack and pulls out Lilita's shoes, holding them out to her and smiling. "I believe you left these in Avgrat's...and I wanted to return them to you and see how you were. What can you tell me about the man you were speaking to in the store, the nobleman in the blue turban? He charged out after you and I was afraid he meant you harm. I tried to follow but lost you in the mists."
Lilita will brighten somewhat at the sight of her shoes she could scarcely afford to replace but still nervous and intimated by the pair and remains meek and nervous in the presence. She will bow respectfully to the Half-Elf, eyes downcast never once looking her (them) directly in the eye will respond to their return, "thank you m'lady, it was most kind of you to return them to me, my old shoes are poor and hurt my feet so I am happy to have these back."
At the mention of the nobleman in the blue turban Lilita looks at the half-elf blankly and shyly responds truthfully, "I am sorry m'lady but I don't know the nobleman or his name, I only just encountered him for the first and only time in the shop."
Lilita as she bows, and gratitude takes Livvi's hand and kisses it lightly in respect and gratitude for taking the time and showing the kindness to return them...
Cadrian introduces himself with a bow before politely addressing Lilita, "Excuse me, miss, but could we speak to Master Pencelot? We would like to ask a question or two, if he can but spare a moment."
Lilita turns her gaze downward shyly not making eye contact then speaks in a hushed yet respectful whisper in response, "apologies m'lord but Master Pencelot is unavailable as he is on retreat outside the city, but I expect him back within the week."
"I'm looking for information on the Healing House of the Black Rose. I know they have a questionable past, but I am suspicious that dark deeds are being performed there. I have seen them taking advantage of a girl who is an inmate of theirs, and I am determined that no further harm come to her or any others in their care if I can lend my influence to stop them. I need any information I can get that will enable me to open up their enterprises and stop them if they are, as I suspect, pledged to evil intent."
Lilita does not look surprised. "The Black Rose is perhaps the most famous and prestigious of healing houses in all the city I doubt if there is a soul in the city not aware of it or its reputation. Other than that, I know nothing beyond its location and that they only employ the most talented and skilled healers who graduate from the Healer's Guild. Like everyone else at the guild after I had completed my studies, I sought to apply for a position with Representatives from the Black Rose but was not even tested. Rather they took one look at me and said I was too common a flower to ever be permitted to work there and thus... they turned me away without an interview or a test to measure my healing abilities or potential. I have never been inside the Black Rose, I have only ever looked upon its exterior from the street outside."
Livvi cocks her head at Lilita's description of her financial status, and asks, "Dear one, if you have no fortune or steady income, then what were you doing in the fine clothier's shop last night? You probably couldn't afford anything from there, and you certainly don't strike me as a dreamer or a girl inclined to fanciful whims. And didn't I see you outside the Black Rose the other morning? It seems the hand of fate is determined to bring us together..."
Lilita pale and nervous from their questions responds again, truthfully, her voice still meek, her body trembling in fear of the pair; “the tailor near my home identified that shop as the shop that made the cloths of the strange woman who vanished in the night while I was treating her. I was concerned for her wellbeing and only sought to try to find out who she was and if she was alright. So, I traveled to that shop after I finished working here but before I could talk to the shop owner a Nobleman, a customer there I think frightened me and I did not wish to find myself obligated to such a man so I fled back to my home. I did not learn the woman's name, etc. or was able to do or learn anything more since I was unable to speak to the shop owner."
"I can only hope that she is alive and well, that she somehow made it back to her home but sadly where I live is none too safe, so I fear the worse for her and pray for her soul."
Cadrian listens politely to Lilita's information, maintaining a comforting smile while his mind worked. "Hmmm, yes, that is the public image, certainly. I still have my suspicions, but such a one seems unassailable with naught but suspicions. Perhaps the two events are unconnected..."
"I must ask your pardon, me. my good Lady Healer. I am Lord Cadrian du Flynn, meddler and overall do-gooder. As Mistress Livvi has related to me, you have had a bit of a frightful encounter, and I would very much be interested in investigating the one who seemed to have discomfited you. If you can tell me anything of the events in Master Avgrat's shop, it may be inordinately useful. I would ask you leave no detail you can recall out. I also assure you that anything you tell me will be held in the strictest of confidence, on my honor and my soul."
Lilita cringes at being called a Lady Healer when she is not a 'Lady' but does not dare voice her discomfort. Lilita's appearance and manner are that of one who is obviously frightened and intimidated by both Cadrian and Livvi, as she speaks to them both eyes downcast and always in shy hushed speech going out of her way to try to be respectful and to not offend either of them!
In a fearful whisper, Lilita responds, "there is nothing really to tell, the nobleman was very polite in his manner and speech to me, almost fatherly had I ever known a father that is what I might imagine. He merely wanted to buy expensive slippers for me, wished me to try them on. But I am unused to the attention of men... noble or otherwise. I do not trust the motives of any man and the longer I found myself in his presence the more uncomfortable I became. I am not a tart and did not wish a gift from a stranger and worried that accepting such may somehow obligate me. Still, he was a nobleman, so I did not wish to offend him by refusing him... so when the opportunity presented itself, I fled into the night. I have never seen the nobleman before or since... nor do I know his name. I swear by the goddess I am truthful and telling all that I know. If I wronged her ladyship in abandoning her to the nobleman's attention, then I am deeply sorry and willing to accept whatever punishment she deems necessary."
"Oh, dear girl, I am no noble to be called a lady. Perhaps I was born to a better family and had more gifts and opportunities, but there is no need for you to feel inferior to me! Come, Lilita. Sit here with me for a moment longer. Is that alright?" Livvi takes hold of the girl's hands and quietly asks, "Are you OK? I can tell you've been crying - something other than our presence here now has you greatly upset. Did that monster get to you last night? I am so sorry that I could not protect you from him!! It's going to be alright...just tell me everything. As Lord du Flynn says, we will see that the noble beast is caught so that he doesn't harm other girls! Oh, look - you are shaking! Do you want some tea? That always helps me..."
Lilita is somewhat taken aback by the Half-Elf maiden's forward and assertive manner in her master's shop but understands such is the way of those of privilege as the meek Lilita assumes that such an exotic and beautiful fey maid, of course, must be of noble birth! Hearing the mention of tea Lilita is given the impression this must be a polite way of reminding her that she is being lax in her duty as a host with noble guests having never before entertained or interacted with high borns.
"Tea!," she blushes with embarrassment, "please forgive m'lady... you require tea. I am so sorry, where are my manners. Just a moment please, I am not used to attending such as yourself."
Lilita quickly and rather nervously scrambles to locate a clean pot or kettle, fill it with water and put it on the fire to heat. While the water is heating Lilita looks through the shop for something... anything she can find to serve with the tea as well as a suitable cup for her ladyship.
Several minutes later nervously Lilita serves and pours the tea for Livvi and whispers respectfully, "I am sorry m'lady, if I have forgotten something, please don't be cross with me. I do not mean to offend. Just tell me what else you require with your tea... if the biscuits are too stale or insufficient, it is all we have. I can run to the bakery nearby and find you something more suitable if you require."
Lilita herself would not think taking tea with someone like Livvi so remains on her feet not wishing to sit in her presence or to somehow upset her and so only pours a cup of tea for the elf-maiden herself. Lilita, looking at Livvi shyly unsure what to do next attempts to answer her questions, "yes m'lady I have been crying, forgive me, but not about the nobleman but a separate private matter that does not involve you or the nobleman. As I have already told you I only just saw the nobleman of which you speak in the clothes shop. I have not seen him since I ran away so I really have no idea what you are talking about. I wish that I could be of more help to you, I really do. I swear by the goddess I have spoken only the truth to you! If the nobleman has done something to you or to offend you then I am truly sorry I ran away and left, you with him. Far better for someone like me to suffer than someone such as yourself, the fault is entirely mine."
Lilita turns and locates a long birch stick and hands it to Livvi and drops to her knees before her and holds up her own open trembling hands for the elf maiden to strike her hands/fingers as a form of punishment hoping that this will be enough to satisfy and end the questioning... terrified that Livvi will call the guard and have her arrested and imprisoned! Her eyes downcast waiting...
Livvi's exasperated sigh can be heard in the silent shop, and her eye roll is visible to anyone looking. Locking eyes with the mage, the Half-Elf shrugs than turns back to Lilita and takes the switch. In the blink of an eye, Livvi strikes Lilita three times across her forearms. As the thin red welts spring into existence against the pale skin of the healer, Livvi intones the following ritualistic phrase, "Struck thrice to pay the price; cleanse the sin; healing begin. You are absolved of any wrongdoing, perceived or actual. Let it be remembered no more." She hands the birch stick back to Lilita, then gently strokes her hair. "You have no need to beg my forgiveness ever again. Understand? I am not a noble and you are not my servant. We are equals. And I will not have my equal scrabbling about on the floor like a slave or a coward. So suck it up, buttercup, and put a stave in your spine! Sit here with me, drink some tea, and tell us more about this woman who disappeared. What did she look like? Did she have silver hair? How did she act? You said that you were asking about the clothes she wore - do you still have them? Is there anything else you can tell us about her or that night?"
Lilita blinked and reeled backwards as if struck in the face. Tears welled up once more, than there was a slight shriek. In the corner a potted plan suddenly seemed to leap up, leaf covered twigs waving and shaking a warning. “You, you can’t understand!” the girl wailed, a desperation in her eyes that was unnatural. Cadrian looked alarmed, his eyebrows beetling as Lilita screamed in terror.
“Those eyes! I can still see them.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper again. One hand gripped Livvi’s tightly as Lilita leaned closer. “Don’t you understand? H – he showed me things; in my mind, you know? Terrible, immoral things. What he wanted; what he demanded… N – no! I- I’ve said too much!”
Leaping to her feet Lilita tore at the front of her thin dress, ripping it easily as she raced from the room and into the street. The shrub rushed after her, pausing only long enough to grab Lilita’s shoes.
The window open behind him, Jacob studied the darkened room with care. The job had been simple, yet simple jobs were rarely so. Especially considering the one who’d offered him the job. Bilina was a raven-haired beauty whose reputation was a convoluted one. It was rumored that the woman worked for the Blue Cobra’s, but it was a difficult rumor to confirm. He’d done a few jobs for her in the past and her gold was always good. Perhaps not as good as what he could make freelancing, of course, but the fifty gold crowns she offered, fifteen up front, the rest upon delivery. Delivery of a small, wooden vial that was supposed to be somewhere in this low-end flat in the less savory part of the poor quarter.
The occupant of the flat, one Garse the Gaffer, lay snoring loudly on a filthy bed, two empty bottles on the floor beside him. Of the few bits of information Bilina had for him was that Garse worked for one of the larger bakers in the city, and that the man had a wooden vial in his possession that she wished removed from the premises.
The room stank of alcohol and stale sweat, with a lingering trace of something unidentifiable, baser yet also bitter, coming from the sleeping man. This offense to the senses was in complete opposition to the still fresh remembrance of Bilina's maddening fragrance, leaving a taste of pale skin and dark rose-dew in the corners of ones' awareness.
Holden also had a reputation, if not already obvious from his name; he—and apparently his family name-giving Tarantian kin before him—were particularly good at getting ahold of things- anything from any place really- without creating too much of a fuss, or leaving behind traces that could lead back to him, or, more importantly, to his employers. This was not always so, even though the profession ran deep in his bloodline, Jacob mused, while instinctively grabbing a hold of his blackjack, tiptoeing through a collection of discarded bottles on the floor towards the sleeping man as to check on him. In his youth Holden had made a mess of things more times than he cared to remember, but with age came wisdom, or so people kept telling themselves. This time it seemed that the most difficult part of an apparently already simple job was preternaturally taken care of; Garse the Gaffer had drunk himself into a stupor the evening prior- there would be no need to knock him out as Jacob went rummaging through his belongings in search of that which he was tasked to re-appropriate.
What did Bilina have to do with this waste of a man? What could be in that wooden vial? And what liquid would need its' container to be wooden in the first place? As questions compounded in Holden's mind, he was carefully and systematically searching the place, always with an ear and an eye out for the sleeper, stopping his search as he would stop breathing for a second, only to resume the thieving activity when the man went back into his labored, drunken-sleep breathing. The window was left half open, a weak stream of light barely penetrating from the outside, ready to serve as a quick exit route to the rooftops from which Jacob had entered just an eye-blink before.
As he worked his way around the room, checking the more obvious places. The room was sparsely furnished, a simple chest against one which yielded up mostly dirty laundry and several moldy, seeded bread rolls, the sort that one might find in posh restaurants or at the tables of the wealthy, except for the mold, of course. At the bottom of the chest lay a greasy leather poke with ten shiny gold crowns. Last years date stamped along the edge. A couple more had fallen onto the floor, he noted. A single hard wooden chair sat beside the door. Upon it were a pair of flour and oil stained aprons, a tonic smelling of day-old vomit, suggesting that Garse was on a bender.
Holden left the 10 shiny crowns where they were, ignoring the trail of them on the floor leading all over the place, he did not come here to rob the poor man blind, or any blinder than he already was in any case. Jacob was here for a very specific reason, and anything that was not it- or could contribute to the solving of its' mystery- was of relatively little interest to Holden in there, at least for right now. Maybe when he found the wooden vial he could start pondering if the flats' owner could afford to be plundered any further, given that there was any time left to do it, that is.
On the bed Garse let out a two-punch combo. A deep belch momentarily disturbed the man’s unconsciousness, but only long enough for him to roll over and rip a raunchy blast of wind that would have made a skunk swoon. By the door and momentarily distracted by ‘Garse the Gross’ nocturnal antics, Jacob nearly missed the minute sounds of someone fiddling with the door. A quick glance caught the appearance of a slender wire from between the door jamb and door. Rising, searching for the latch above.
So, this was the inevitable catch; Jacob was not the only thing going bump tonight in this apartment. There was another professional trying to gain entry to the place, and very likely after the same exact vial. Holden quickly reasoned that he had a good ¼ chances for it to be a fellow of the same Thieves Guild as he was- and they had rules for pissing on somebody else’s' already ongoing parade like this- but he was not liking the odds of starting a friendly conversation through a keyhole, only to risk being shanked into his eye in short order. Jacob decided to improvise; he would quickly use the wooden chair near the door as a stepping stone to reach for the head of the door, setting that horrid vomit smelling tunic in place, like a mischievous trap not very unlike from the type that one could observe coming from playing children. Only that Holden was not pushing a wheeled horse, or carrying a stuffed doll, no, he instead readied his blackjack, hiding at an angle towards the door being pick-locked, at which he could complete the surprise. He balled is gloved left fist and strengthened the grip on the blackjacks' handle, grinning in the darkness.
There was a soft click when the wire hooked on the latch and pulled it upwards. As soon as it cleared the door opened inward slowly [GM Roll for improvised, reeking tunic trap = 17], slowly but far enough to send the foul-smelling tunic dropping across the shadowy head of the intruder. [NPC reaction roll = 87%] A sharp curse cut off with a hiss, the intruder dropped her wire hook and went for a dagger. Her other hand snapped up, grabbed the tunic. Without hesitation he brought down his blackjack hard, at the last moment, Holden had to adjust for her much smaller size. [Blackjack Strike = 14+5=19, (2d6+3) = 8 nonlethal damage > GM Roll on Stun Chart = 85% = Grazing blow (Stunned for 7 CR plus -1 to all actions for the next hour) [GM Note: Intruder is stunned for 7 turns (combat rounds) and has a -1 to all actions for 1 hour]
The blow caught her in the side of the head, staggering her forward onto her hand’s and knees. Still covered by the tunic, the Halfling groans and curses incoherently, but softly. On the bed, Garse farted again and went on snoring.
Jacob didn't expect his silly improvised trap to work as well as it did, but he certainly would not let the opportunity slip to further incapacitate his uninvited tiny opponent. To be completely honest he was already feeling guilty for having weaponized Garses' horribly stinking clothes, the poor Halfling still with that wretched tunic over her head, but its' effectiveness was undeniable. Holden quickly proceeded with first disarming the stunned and kneeling little figure by pushing her dagger with a boot towards the nightstand (CR1), then tied and gagged her with a length of the trusty hemp rope that he always carried (CR2). Jacob paid special attention (CR3) to making it as momentarily inescapable as he could- Halflings were famous for being escape artists and were not to be underestimated- having said that the knots were not impossible, with a couple hours and some patient contortionism the Halfling would easily be able to free herself. More than enough time for Holden to find what he came here for and then get the hell out of dodge. Once the little bundle was secured, Jacob would put her into the same chest (CR4-5) where the stale bread and leather poke with the 10 crowns were, at least she would be able to help herself to a consolation prize. "Sorry little fella', nothing personal", Holden muttered in his low, gravelly voice, as he looked her over one last time (CR6) for any identifying markers, like guild or gang tattoos. "Should've paid attention to the runes in Thieves Cant that I carved downstairs- claiming the place for tonight- they weren't left there for nothing, y'know."
From within the trunk came a mumbled, barely coherent curse, then, “By the goddeses perfect tits tha’ hurt, you ass!”
Jacob sat himself atop the closed lid of the chest, as quiet rumbling and muffled sounding curses continued to emanate from somewhere deep within. Holden stroked his black and shortly trimmed beard- his hair naturally tending towards curling- furrowing his brow and, despite the tragicomic situation, looking around the room in a somewhat nonplussed manner. Jacob was preoccupied with mentally putting himself into the Gaffers' shoes for a moment, where would a wastrel like that hide such a thing as the wooden vial in his experience?
Garse was so drunk that a dragon could probably level the block and he the man wouldn’t have noticed. The man broke wind again, sending a foul yet spicy odor roaming the room with a vengeance. From the trunk came another muffled curse. “Wha’ stink!? Evi’ snark…” Then there was a pause than the Halfling’s voice called out in a muffled whisper. “Ain’t part of no’ guild, frien’ Never saw no cant. Trut’”
Holden laughed inwardly, two decades and a half ago or so it could've very well been him stuck in that box. His father did start him early. Though the occupying Halfling was way more apt at cursing than him way back then. That particular art developed with age, not size.
"Listen, little fella', you're telling me what you came here tonight for, and if I don't like the answer, I'll be pushing the chest right under Garses' bed at his thundering backside, goddesses’ tits or no. Maybe we can still salvage this situation, and both go home skimming while holding hands on a rooftop."
There was a pregnant moment of silence from within the trunk and then the Halfling responded, “Tha ‘idow sent me ta fetch somethin’ from dis ‘er stinker. O’ wee container somethin’. ‘idow says it’s importan’”
"I believe you." Jacob muttered. He didn't push the chest any closer to the Gaffers' bed-foot, but he also didn't make any particular moves to open it and free the Halfling inside. At this point it was obvious that, while their employers were different, the commissioned object they both came here for was identical. "Did this widow also spare you with a reason of why it'd be so important for her to get a hold on the contents of said vial?" Holden threw in that question halfheartedly, he knew the little one was either unwilling to part with such information, or more likely not even made aware of it, as is usual with these kinds of shady businesses. Jacob himself wasn't exactly privy as to the wooden vials' utility, but if he had to even risk incurring the wrath of Bilina, there'd better be a damned good reason, "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned", and all that.
This time there was no hesitation. “No, she didn’, but then, floobs like The ‘idow run in far higher circles that we do, you know? ‘robably somthin’ bad, I’m not doubtin’. She did warn me ta ney finger or touch anthin’ left inside. Best leave it corked, she said. I’m guessin’ it’s some devilish poison or tha’ likes.” [Passive perception check = 9]
Holden leapt off the box & onto his boots very quietly. So, it was poison, and of the very high end type, at that. "My employer did not give me any warnings of the sort. You're lucky, little one. Well—somewhat lucky—considering our current predicament." As he went back to looking for the wooden vial in the apartment, Jacob thought to himself that this 'Widow' must be an amateur, maybe a Tarantian high society dilettante of some sort, if she really felt the need to warn her Halfling employee about keeping hands off the merchandise. But then that exact same Halfling was not precisely Thieves Guild material either, by her own admittance. "As they say, little fella', we're at an impasse."
“’ey! I’was ‘onest to ya, big guy! C’mon, ‘et me ou’ an’ we ca’ work ta’gether.” The trunk was cheap and shook slightly as the Halfling girl thumped the inside wall. “yea’ lout!”
Bilina was famed to be a- or at least work for the- Blue Cobra, which were serious business. You did not want to cross her, or them, for no worthy reason. If you desired to avoid ending up as fish fodder in one of the City Ports' eel farms, that is. Holden just knew that this whole story was going to come back and bite him in the behind with a vengeance, but a job was a job and an honest thief only as good as his word. The parlay with the Halfling had come to an end. Jacob closed the external hinge of the trove, just in case the little one would free herself before it was time.
"I will open the hinge when I leave, IF you don't make too much of a ruckus in there while I search the place." Holden paused, half expecting renewed cursing. "Tell the Widow that Garse didn't have the vial anymore. And next time, before breaking in somewhere, read the gods damned Cant runes..." Jacob moved away from the chest with a measured pace, pausing only for a moment while listening to the Gaffers labored breathing, half turning around. "And sorry for the bruise."
“’ine,” came a muffled grumble. “da Widow ain’t gonna like it ‘ne bit.”
Holden was genuinely wondering how and why Garse had gotten his filthy hands on the wooden vial and its' ominous contents but ended up concluding that there probably wouldn't be any satisfactory answers without the sobering up of Garse and subsequently having a good talk with him, right then and there. That was probably the last thing possible under the sun, or moon, considering the ungodly hour. Reality slowed down for a fleeting moment and then started flowing again, as Jacobs' revelry got interrupted by the ringing of a far-off bell-tower; it was time to put all of these doubts to rest and finish what he had come here for. [GM makes a perception roll = 10+4 = 14]
About to give up and start getting clever in his search Holden bent down and glanced under the bed and nearly missed seeing the vial in question among the moldy bread crusts, dirty clothes, and other debris. He also heard a steady cadence coming from the narrow street below.
After about half a second of being frozen, Jacob reached for the wooden vial quickly, looking at it in his open palm with incredulity. He pocketed it carefully into one of his internal leather pouches, hoping its' seal would not break as he'd be soon jumping from one rooftop to another. Holden turned his attention to the sudden source of nightly commotion outside.
The sound grew louder and from the window he could see a troop of armored men-at-arms marching in two columns (a troop numbers twenty). In the lead is a floob in shiny, full plate armor. Half of the troop held shields and swords; the other half crossbows strapped over their backs. A knight, no less. And judging from the pennant hanging limply from a pole held by the lead soldier the troop was part of the Blackhearts, one of cities militant orders that made up Altar the Lion’s standing army.
“w’at’s ‘hat?” the Halfling said in a muffled whisper.
"More bedfellows. Seems that Garses' bedroom is about to become very crowded." Jacob took the Halflings' dagger from under the nightstand, where he kicked it to not too long before, stood over the trove, opened the hatch- leaving it that way- and softly dropped the blade into the general direction of the Halflings' grasping fingers. "Judging by the Blackhearts outside they won't be contempt with knocking for too long. You have a little less than one-minute, little fella'. See ya around Tarantis."
Outside a sergeant bellowed, “First squad! Search that building! Second squad! Watch the perimeter!”
Holden didn't stay for the Halflings' obligatory curses, he rose his black hood, hiding the white half-moons of his eyes, and submerged the rest of his face into full shadow. He would leave all stealth-like from the already open window, and then seal the deal by jumping over the canal to another rooftop. That would expose him the bare minimum necessary to make an escape and put a maximum of distance between himself and the armored floobs swarming on the ground floor. He had to be quick and not miss a step. The window was already behind him.
Cadrian’s long legs carried him along as he dodged and skipped around people in his way. “Keep after her, I’m going to cut across to the next street and see if I can’t get ahead of her!”
"Check! Good luck." Livvi calls back, then yells to the crowd in front of her, "Get out of the way, you fawning monkeys!" Livvi was concerned about the distance between her and Lilita, the milling throngs blocking her view, and the new chasers between them. As the pursuit continued through the Market, the bard silently thanked her old combat master for his seemingly sadistic training practices. Because of them Livvi was able to keep up the pace and still have breath to use her more mystical vocal powers. Should she attempt to charm person and get Lilita to come to her? Were the ruffians now chasing after the Grey Lady a more pressing threat, and what would they do if she stopped fleeing?
Livvi quickly decides to try and end the chase first. She had ways of handling the thugs of needed, but things might get ugly when she unleashed her fury... So, gaging the distance to Lilita and her estimated ability to reach her with her magic, Livvi adds her innate magical powers to her words as she calls out to Lilita, She chooses a poem she learned as a girl, hoping to reach through the terror and shame she had seen in the Grey Lady's eyes and heard in the tremor of her voice.
She was gaining on the young woman. It appeared that Lilita was slowing down, gasping for breath as if running out of energy.
"You can't look me in the eye - For fear of saying that you don't like me, - That you don't want to come out and play. - I know you're just a little girl, - Who's lost her ribbons - And scraped her knees, - And who crumbles at their feet, - Who falls apart every time they leave. - You don't want to talk to me anymore - Because you slurred your speech - And ruined the cupcakes. - You think that you ruin everything, don't you? - Maybe it's time to quit, - But I don't want you to. - Come back to me, Lilita. - Hold my hand. - Give me a chance." <DC13 Wisdom save or be charmed> [Lilita failed her Save and is Charmed]
Lilita then stumbles to a halt before falling to her knees in exhaustion.
"It's OK, Lilita. You are safe with me, my dear. Come, let us head back and I will serve you that tea. Then we can finish our conversation." Livvi continues talking in soothing tones while she gently brings Lilita back to her feet and slips her arm around her waist. Now that she has the Grey Lady steadied, the bard scans the crowd for the strange little plant or any other potential problems. She knew Cadrian was running off to try and cut them off - perhaps he would come back this way when they didn't pass by. But Livvi could not worry about the Lord right now...she needed to shelter this frightened dove and get her to safety. Several shadier types seemed to melt into the crowd as her eyes met theirs. For a moment she didn’t see the animated plant than noticed a small bush next to a fresh vegetable stand, which would be unusual in its own right but the fact that Lilita’s shoes hung from two branches made it even stranger, if she hadn’t seen the plant in action.
Lilita nods and whimpers as she struggles to her feet weakly holding tightly on to Livvi's hand to follow her meekly, not resisting.
Livvi nods towards the plant, figuring it could probably take care of itself and starts walking with Lilita. "Do you want me to take you to your home? Or maybe back to the healer's shop? Or would you rather we sit down at a café and enjoy some iced kafe?" As they walk, she continues a light-hearted conversation with the girl, occasionally looking around for a moving bush.
"Back to my master's shop m'lady, left untended and unlocked they will rob my poor old master blind! Please take me back, please," Lilita begs, tears in her worried eyes.
Livvi decides that familiar surroundings would be best for the emotionally-unstable healer, so she guides the lady back to Pencelot's shop. As they approach, there are a few people waiting outside, looking hopeful and curious as they approach. "Shop's closed for the day, people. You'll have to come back tomorrow. No - I'm sorry. Miss Lilita is in no shape to see you now - she needs some rest herself. Go on, now. Shoo!" Livvi takes no excuses or guff from anyone outside. She kindly, but firmly, sends them all away.
Once inside with the door closed, Livvi smiles and turns to Lilita. "OK, dear. Sit here and I will heat this water back up for some tea - for you, this time. Can you tell me about the woman you found the other night? The one whose clothes you were checking out. Take your time." Livvi repeats Lilita's earlier actions - heating water and then preparing a pot of tea. But Livvi moves with a sense of confidence, and some amount of grace bestowed upon her by her fey heritage. Nothing subservient or hesitant, yet neither is she demanding or harsh. Anyone watching would think that Livvi and Lilita have been friends since childhood...
Lilita stares down at her feet as sits, "she was sick, she had a fever, but I didn't know why. I took care of her as best I could, but I really could not do anything to help than to try to cool her down. I thought she was another poor girl from the streets, her clothes seemed dirty and ragged to my eyes, so I did not think otherwise. I was more concerned with finding a way to heal her than to notice anything else about her so didn't give it a lot of thought, just assumed, I guess. The only thing I discovered odd about her condition was a very tiny single puncture in her neck that I could barely even see. I don't know what it was or how it got there except maybe a sting from an insect, a scorpion, etc. or perhaps caused by a needle but those are so rare and expensive, who could afford to use such so I thought more likely a poisonous sting."
Livvi listens, trying to make sense of the various bits and pieces of events. She knew there was a single, consolidated story here that would make sense once she could put it all together...She kept looking out the window to see if Cadrian would return. He was, after all, after the same thing as Livvi - to discover what was happening to the young women in the city and perhaps put an end to it.
Well, she wasn't going to wait for him to show up. Livvi had never relied upon a man for anything - a lesson learned early on and reinforced throughout her teens and early adulthood, and firmly cemented by her friendship with Bilina. Not that Livvi didn't like the boys - she just refused to be dependent on anyone else - much less be a fawning (and useless) type of girl she saw around the noble houses growing up.
"Look, Lilita - I am also trying to solve a puzzle centered around the strange abduction, return, and condition of young ladies around town. I know that you are busy with your healing, but would you consider helping me in your off time? Together, perhaps we can uncover what is going on and help to prevent anyone else from being taken and abused. I started investigating this because of a silversmith's daughter, who disappeared from the clothing shop we were at last night. She just disappeared from under the nose of a group of friends and an escort, only to reappear a few days later in a stupor. Not knowing what afflicted her, her father brought Pithini to the Black Rose, where she remains. The young Lord with me earlier says that he saw her standing naked in the streets behind the Rose last night, and when he tried to assist her or determine if she needed help, she walked as if in a daze into the building, and the headmistress shut him down, refusing his questions or his offer of help. I also know there have been a string of abductions over the past few weeks. So, I want to help solve this and protect women like you and me. Will you keep your eyes and ears open and tell me anything you may hear about? I will also share with you what I find in my questioning...You can find me most days in or near The Witches' Brew - I also act as a city crier and that is my area."
Lilita's eyes tear up again as she struggles to remember that night, "all I could do was make her comfortable and help her to sleep but then I fell asleep myself, just nodded off, I didn't want to, I just did... and when I woke up she was gone. Only her clothes remained, and I went out into the night with them to try to find her, but she was long gone. I ended up stopping at a local clothing shop to ask about her clothes and the old man there sent me to the shop you saw me in on the following night. I intended to ask the shop owner there if the girl's clothes were truly made there or not but I never got to see the owner because I got scared and ran away. That is all I know about the woman; she never spoke so I don't know her name or anything else other than what I told you... I swear by the goddess! I hope you find her; I hope she is alright, but girls alone don't last long in that area of the city."
Livvi glances out the window, and notices that the shadows are growing, indicating that it is late afternoon and that she must make her evening announcement. She also mentally figures that her magical charms will wear off soon, and she would rather not be present when they did - just in case... "Oh - look at the shadows. Speaking of my job - it is time that I get back to the Market and make the even-tide announcements. Are you alright if I leave?"
Lilita in response to Livvi's question simply nods and whispers, "yes."
"OK...you've been a big help. Come see me tomorrow at The Witches' Brew. I know another girl there who speaks highly of you and your abilities, and I am sure she would like to thank you personally for fixing her wrist. Rest, now. You've had a trying time of it based on your reactions and appearance. Be well." Livvi pats her shoulder and stands to leave, taking another look about the shop. The girl was flighty as a young doe - Livvi tried to read her to determine if she would ever see the Grey Lady again or not. Insight: 7
Her hair flying behind her as she wove in and out of traffic, Lilita could hear their calls fade further behind. Occasionally someone would shout or yell a warning, others scrambled to get out of her erratic path. Behind her the yells and shouts turned to shrieks and even louder shouts. Several rough looking sorts seemed to be taking up the pursuit as well. Even so, she could feel the burst of energy ebbing as she fled.
Lilita having been up all night and all day working in the shop is exhausted and quickly runs out of steam... falls down and does not get up. Too weak to move, her head aching with pain, her thoughts jumbled and confused she just lay there gasping for breath, then hears the following:
"You can't look me in the eye - For fear of saying that you don't like me, - That you don't want to come out and play. - I know you're just a little girl, - Who's lost her ribbons - And scraped her knees, - And who crumbles at their feet, - Who falls apart every time they leave. - You don't want to talk to me anymore - Because you slurred your speech - And ruined the cupcakes. - You think that you ruin everything, don't you? - Maybe it's time to quit, - But I don't want you to. - Come back to me, Lilita. - Hold my hand. - Give me a chance."<DC13 Wisdom save or be charmed> [GM Wisdom save = 7+2=9 > Fails check and is charmed by Livvi>
Lilita lays on the ground helpless and exhausted looking up blurry eyes at Livvi mumbling feebly, "help me... make the voice stop, but first please lock up the shop or they will rob my poor master blind," reaching outward her hand shaking as she tries her best to take hold of Livvi's offered hand.
"It's OK, Lilita. You are safe with me, my dear. Come, let us head back and I will serve you that tea. Then we can finish our conversation." Livvi continues talking in soothing tones while she gently brings Lilita back to her feet and slips her arm around her waist. The Half-Elf’s eyes scanning the crowd that was gathering. Several shadier types seemed to melt into the crowd.
Lilita nods and whimpers as she struggles to her feet weakly holding tightly on to Livvi's hand to follow her meekly back to the shop not resisting or giving her any trouble at all, whatever Livvi wants her to do Lilita will do it or try to as best she is able.
Livvi nods and starts walking with Lilita. "Do you want me to take you to your home? Or maybe back to the healer's shop? Or would you rather we sit down at a café and enjoy some iced kafe?" As they walk, the Half-Elf continues a light-hearted conversation and occasionally looking around as if expecting someone or something.
"Back to my master's shop m'lady, left untended and unlocked they will rob my poor old master blind! Please take me back, please," Lilita begs, tears in her worried eyes.
As they approach Pencelot's shop, there are a few people waiting outside, looking hopeful and curious as they approach. "Shop's closed for the day, people. You'll have to come back tomorrow. No - I'm sorry. Miss Lilita is in no shape to see you now - she needs some rest herself. Go on, now. Shoo!" Livvi is kindly, but firmly, sends them all away.
Once inside with the door closed, Livvi smiles and turns to Lilita. "OK, dear. Sit here and I will heat this water back up for some tea - for you, this time. Can you tell me about the woman you found the other night? The one whose clothes you were checking out. Take your time." Livvi repeats Lilita's earlier actions - heating water and then preparing a pot of tea. But Livvi moves with a sense of confidence, and some amount of grace bestowed upon her by her fey heritage. Nothing subservient or hesitant, yet neither is she demanding or harsh. Anyone watching would think that Livvi and Lilita have been friends since childhood...
Lilita stares down at her feet as sits, "she was sick, she had a fever, but I didn't know why. I took care of her as best I could, but I really could not do anything to help than to try to cool her down. I thought she was another poor girl from the streets, her clothes seemed dirty and ragged to my eyes, so I did not think otherwise. I was more concerned with finding a way to heal her than to notice anything else about her so didn't give it a lot of thought, just assumed, I guess. The only thing I discovered odd about her condition was a very tiny single puncture in her neck that I could barely even see. I don't know what it was or how it got there except maybe a sting from an insect, a scorpion, etc. or perhaps caused by a needle but those are so rare and expensive, who could afford to use such so I thought more likely a poisonous sting."
Livvi kept looking out the window as she listened. When Lilita paused the Half-Elf said: "Look, Lilita - I am also trying to solve a puzzle centered around the strange abduction, return, and condition of young ladies around town. I know that you are busy with your healing, but would you consider helping me in your off time? Together, perhaps we can uncover what is going on and help to prevent anyone else from being taken and abused. I started investigating this because of a silversmith's daughter, who disappeared from the clothing shop we were at last night. She just disappeared from under the nose of a group of friends and an escort, only to reappear a few days later in a stupor. Not knowing what afflicted her, her father brought Pithini to the Black Rose, where she remains. The young Lord with me earlier says that he saw her standing naked in the streets behind the Rose last night, and when he tried to assist her or determine if she needed help, she walked as if in a daze into the building, and the headmistress shut him down, refusing his questions or his offer of help. I also know there have been a string of abductions over the past few weeks. So, I want to help solve this and protect women like you and me. Will you keep your eyes and ears open and tell me anything you may hear about? I will also share with you what I find in my questioning...You can find me most days in or near The Witches' Brew - I also act as a city crier and that is my area."
Lilita's eyes tear up again as she struggles to remember that night, "all I could do was make her comfortable and help her to sleep but then I fell asleep myself, just nodded off, I didn't want to, I just did... and when I woke up she was gone. Only her clothes remained, and I went out into the night with them to try to find her, but she was long gone. I ended up stopping at a local clothing shop to ask about her clothes and the old man there sent me to the shop you saw me in on the following night. I intended to ask the shop owner there if the girl's clothes were truly made there or not but I never got to see the owner because I got scared and ran away. That is all I know about the woman; she never spoke so I don't know her name or anything else other than what I told you... I swear by the goddess! I hope you find her; I hope she is alright, but girls alone don't last long in that area of the city."
Livvi glances out the window again. "Oh - look at the shadows. Speaking of my job - it is time that I get back to the Market and make the even-fest announcements. Are you alright if I leave?"
Lilita in response to Livvi's question simply nods and whispers, "yes."
"OK...you've been a big help. Come see me tomorrow at The Witches' Brew. I know another girl there who speaks highly of you and your abilities, and I am sure she would like to thank you personally for fixing her wrist. Rest, now. You've had a trying time of it based on your reactions and appearance. Be well." Livvi pats her shoulder and stands to leave, taking another look about the shop.
As he crossed through the window, he heard the lead men-at-arms kick in the building’s front door. Another sound of shouts and crashing wood came from the alley around told of a similar story. Without hesitation Holden leapt across the narrow space above the street. It was several hours before dawn and typical of the sea port, the streets and rooftops were partially cloaked in fog and darkness, which should make his attempt to elude any pursuit easier. Bellow, the men-at-arms’ must have been expecting such a move, although it was likely that they assumed it would be Garse trying to escape the Lion’s justice. [GM Stealth check (2+7=9) – failed]
“Up there!” someone shouted even as Holden heard the snap and thrum of several crossbows unloading. [NPC att rolls: 12, 14 (hit) – Hit Location roll 07 (grazing shot to the head); Damage 5 – Stun roll required – 7 CR] A bolt shot past on his left and was lost in the darkness. The second grazed his head, creating a shock of pain. [GM Acrobatic check 18+7=25]
Even as the pain became too much for him to handle Holden’s well-honed practice in sticking his landings in tight spots kicked in (i.e. an acrobatics’ check). He landed on the edge of a shallow roof of some shop across from Garse’ room before blacking out.
Another burst of pain shot through his head as he opened his eyes. Distant shouts and the drum of numerous feet seemed to echo in his muddled mind. Holden’s internal clock insisted that he’d only blacked out briefly even though the rest of his mind insisted that it had to be much longer (7CRx6 = 42 seconds). There was a heavy shudder and the sound of cracking wood coming from the room he had just vacated. He also ‘felt’ more than heard movement in the building below him.
Jacob instinctively checked his leather pockets for the wooden vial by patting himself down. Cradling his head only for a second while trying to steady his feet, he realized that crimson drops were leaking from his hood, sprinkling all over the rooftops' moonlit tiles, and also onto his chest piece. That crossbow bolt came way too close for comfort. He frantically kept patting himself down in a daze until he would find the wooden vial, panicking only for a slight moment, half remembering that he had set the Halfling free from her trove just a moment prior.
The reassuring lump of the vial was in place. Below there were shouts of consternation as his pursuers were having no luck finding an easy way to the rooftop where he lie. Moments later came the sounds of shattering glass, enough so to motivate him into action. Head throbbing, Holden raced carefully along the gutter, crossing to the next rooftop and the next. Pausing briefly, he heard another bolt wiz past and clatter across nearby roof tiles. Someone’s shout was muffled by the swirling fog of the bay’s nightly mist.
Holden went into a kneeling position, ready to resume his acrobatic sprint at any moment, while at the same time trying to offer as little a target to the shooters as possible, one open palm resting on the rooftop and his head peeking from behind a chimney.
A few shadows could be seen back where the baker’s assistant’s flat was. Several seemed to be trying to pursue him, though at a slower pace. In the street below he heard the clatter of armored feet and further shouts as those on the roof and those in the street and alley below were communicating as best they could.
"Persistent, have to give them that." Jacob muttered in a low voice, more to reassure himself than anything else.
Holden kept going, looking for one of the canals or some other body of water that he might escape into and elude pursuit. [Perception roll: 17+4=23] Coming around the corner of a four-story building he saw a beautiful young woman with long, silvery hair standing half naked on a flat rooftop across from a large Inn. She looked so scared and so sorrowful, like one of those ancient princesses in ballads so favored by the Bards. Behind her loomed a tall, dark figure, one that immediately put Holden on edge. Only the eyes were visible, as if burning with some infernal inner light. The man shaped thing had one cruel arm grasped around her waist, mouth open, leaning down as if to consume her.
He knew instinctively that this was the distraction he needed, if this truly was who—or better what—he thought this must be, those of the Lions' guard bold enough to pursue him on the rooftops would be in for one hell of a surprise. Holden abandoned any attempt at hiding, and instead dropped right in front of the interlocked couple out of vampiric fairy tale. "So sorry if I'm ruining the moment, m'Lord and m'Lady..." He put both his middle and index fingers under his hood and into his mouth, letting forth such a powerful whistle that it would surely awaken half the neighborhood, or at the very least lure a few clueless pursuers to their demise.
The monster hissed, baring his lone tooth. “How dare – “
A half dozen figures appeared on the rooftop behind them. Several shouting for the masked figure to halt, others were readying crossbows or shouting down at unseen support on the street below.
Holden paused for but a moment to stare at the silver haired beauty, looking at him from over the dark figures' shoulders with eyes not unlike those of a deer caught drinking at a pond by a hungry predator. Inexorably the dark and tall figure turned at him, leading his would-be victim with the grace of a pale undead dancer. Even as he makes to run again Holden extends his hand, an invitation for her to escape with him.
The sad young woman does not speak, instead, she gives a silent shake of her head while placing her hand inside her captor's hand... willing to go and escape with him.
From the next roof over appears a trio of men-at-arms. Crossbows in hand they fire in unison. Two bolt’s wiz past, one precariously close. A third seems to be deflected by the possible vampire as it ricochets off his raised arm and spirals off at an angle that sends it shattering a glass pane in one of the inn’s windows. Inside there’s a cry of pain and an explosion of cursing.
Fury rages in the monsters’ eyes as he spins and hisses overtly at the men-at-arms. In the narrow alley below comes the sound of many mailed feet clattering on the cobblestones. In the lead is the knight in full armor. Visor flipped back he peers upwards.
“In the name of The Lion, surrender your arms and be questioned!” the knight orders loudly.
With a sigh and a slight shrug at the girl Holden turns and rushes off across the roof and disappears into the mist and nightly shadows. Behind him he heard the monstrous creature shout, “Cattle, who are you to issue me orders, meat!”
He didn’t stick around long enough to hear anything more.
It was late afternoon when Mordecai woke up. He’d made it home to the cheap flat above a cordage dealer’s warehouse. Cheap, cramped, and one of a dozen like it on the warehouses third floor. Aside from the five silver crowns per month, the room had a window that opened onto the second floor’s flat roof. The view wasn’t spectacular, few were in the Laborer’s Quarter. Beside the narrow, straw stuffed bed, there was a table stained nearly black from untold tenants’ various activities. A near new chair went with it. The previous chair had had a cracked legged, something that he had discovered unexpectedly. He also had a cedar trunk with a cheap lock and a shallow cupboard on the wall opposite the window. Before going to bed he had checked the contents of the poke. Not that he suspected that Stax would cheat him – the man had his own reputation to uphold, but that in hindsight, the poke had felt heavier than it should have.
Inside was thirty gold crowns, three electrum crowns, and four small peridot gemstones. An educated guess put their value at ten gold crowns each. The total was one hundred gold crowns.
"No such thing as a free meal," Mordecai says aloud to no one in particular. "I wonder what they'll ask of me for this... generous... overpayment."
He looks around at his surroundings, commenting, "I suppose I could spring for a better place now, but a crown saved is a crown earned - I'm not ready for pleasant upgrades yet."
Mordecai prepares for what's left of the day. He separates his 'wealth' into two pouches: one with enough to get him through a typical day, plus the fifteen gold crowns owed to Quig, and a second pouch with the rest, literally close to the chest, under his clothing and armor.
Before leaving, he gets his task list sorted in his mind -
Get cleaned up and get a new set of clothes. Keep his appearance different from how he went out last night. A bit of polish and oil to his chain mail, which he'll do before leaving, and a slightly nicer set of clothes and cloak to go with it will go a long way. And he supposes he'll have to keep the cueball look for a bit - he misses his beard terribly.
Get a messenger boy to send a note to Quig about where to meet. He won't give a specific address, but a description of a memory that Quig would understand - something related to his days wrestling perhaps.
Once with Quig, he'll pay him the 15 crowns agrees upon. Mordecai may drop him the information he gathered from Hadara about the sabotage of the festival. Something doesn't feel right about that and the way Hadara described it. Hadara may be a foreign agent, but he's an independent contractor - he made it seem that whoever contracted him is based in THIS city.
Go see a trusted arcanist/fence about identifying and valuing what he found in the sewers. Someone who knows discretion is important above all else.... Someone with that sort of wealth, an elf at that, doesn't go missing without people looking for her - and Mordecai is not about to get pinned for something he had nothing to do with.
Go check in on that naturalist, Lilita... Mordecai owes her a donation, one of the peridots should do. She might also have some insight on what happened to the elven woman. If it was a stirge or something else, she would likely know more about it than he.
It was mid afternoon before he set out. Finding a willing boy was easy. Street urchins of both sexes and many races were as thick as flees in many parts of the city and his neighborhood wasn’t any different. Many were untrustworthy, others more so. He found one by the name of Garion who had ran a few odd errands for him before and had proved himself true to his word. The boy was about ten and Mordecai figured it wouldn’t be too many more moons before one of the thieves’ guilds would start to take notice of the boy if they hadn’t already. He was also a font of rumor and street gab, but smart enough to keep his trap shut unless prompted.
Checking the coin briefly before pocketing it, Garion nodded. “Ya’, I’ze knows tha’ fat man, Quig. E’z one-o-dem city clerkers durin’ tha day. I won a silver crown ‘nce, bettin on h’m in da Ice Pit.”
After sending Garion on his way Mordecai stopped into a clothier’s shop, one of a dozen in the quarter. A doorway in the far corner led to another room, the clothier’s main work space as Mordecai could see several apprentices hard at work. A few carved human figures were dressed in modest clothing made from average materials, not unexpected since most of the inhabitants of the Laborer’s Quarter could ill afford to commission attire. The balance of the shop’s goods catered to those who made their own. Rolls of uncut cloth lined one wall, ready to be pulled out and cut by length. Another wall was stacked with open faced baskets holding balls of yarn, while behind the counter multi drawered case held needles of varying materials, likely bone or wood. Metal would be expensive here, as well as buttons of all sorts. A few ready-made garments hung from pegs, ready for quick sale for those with the coin.
It took a bit longer than Mordecai had planned on as one of the shop’s servants had to measure and make some adjustments to the clothing he had picked out. All told, he spent a gold crown and three silver.
The sun was starting to go down by the time Mordecai reached Keesha’s Roadhouse on Jawhar Lane. Frequented by the rowdies of the City State, the tavern was often the sight of regular mayhem. Because of this the place was none to clean and most of the chairs and tables are in a battered condition. Keesha, a stout, somewhat fleshy Dwarf who, in her prime, had been a professional fighter and wrestler. Her husband – known by the locals as Max Madhand – acts as both bartender and referee. While late in arriving, it was early enough that Keesha’s regular crowd was still filtering in and mostly sober. Pausing inside the door long enough for his eyes to adjust to the dimer inside, Mordecai was greeted by Madhand.
“Been o’ few fivedays, Mord, hope der hanging righ – oy! Wha’ happened to that smudge you call a beard? Loose a bet?” The Dwarf, like all Dwarves, took great pride in facial hair. Madhand’s was tightly braided and decorated by a silver pin shaped like a hand stroking the beard.
Mordecai sighs, "Aye, a lost bet... of sorts. I don't think I was even this hairless the day I was born."
"Outside of this disaster," Mordecai says as he points to his face in general, "things have been okay. Have you seen Quig?"
Madhand nodded his chin in the direction of a table where Quig sat, wolfing down a bowl of the establishments spicy fish stew. Beads of sweat covered the top of the overweight man’s head and a large tankard of something sat within easy reach.
Mordecai sits across from Quig and immediately says, "Go ahead - poke your fun now - get it all out of your system."
A flash of surprise lit the fat man’s face as he took in Mordecai’s appearance, which was followed by a grin. “Donno, kinda makes you all pretty an’ shiny. Less of a meanmug, you know? Add’s some of those dandified clothes the Nob’s like an’ you could find a job as some nob’s butler. Hmm, wait, ever think of o’ job in politics?”
"Okay, that last one was actually funny," Mordecai comments.
Quig’s chortle smelled of over spiced fish stew.
"Now that you've had your fun - it's time for business," Mordecai states. He slides over a small pouch with the fifteen crowns that they agreed upon a day earlier. "Your finder's fee for the name you put me on to, but holy hell man, it was a lot more trouble than what we thought it'd be."
Without counting it the fat man made the pouch disappear. A look of concern replaced the mirth from a moment ago. “Yeah? Nobody mentioned – how much trouble?”
"How much more trouble?" Mordecai asks rhetorically. "I'll tell you how much -" he leans in to say the rest in a quieter, hushed voice, "first off, I had a squad of guards looking to get the reward themselves, making up stuff that wasn't on the bolo - they came after me, despite me announcing that I was operating within the bounty’s law."
“There’s more than a few of those sort’s working for the City Guard. Not that I can’t fault ‘em for trying to get in on the action but it’s kinda low to be adding stuff to the charges. That sort o’ thing gets back to the courts a guardsman might find himself cashiered out. What else?”
"Then Firehair got into my face, but even she backed off once the guards started pulling weapons. Point is, this cost me more skin than I expected - literally," Mordecai touches the still healing dagger wound on his shoulder, "and in the end, I'm pretty sure this was a setup from the beginning - not for me, I sort of just fell into it."
Quig whistled softly at the mention of Firehair, reinforcing the idea that the Drow huntress’ reputation was known in the higher arenas of the city circles. “She’s in thick with Stax? That’s new,” muttered the clerk. “Well, at least it wasn’t worse, or was there more?”
"Oh, no, of course that's not all, but if I'm to tell you more we need some ground rules. The leads I give you, should they be reward worthy - and they are - I want half of what you get," Mordecai states.
“There’s a few among the regular debtors and petty criminals wanted coming down from above,” Quig said, “not to mention that the Council of Ministers is issuing a reward for anyone who can put an end to those disappearances. Upper crust merchant’s daughters and noblewomen keep going missing. It’s up to one a week now and the nobs are putting pressure on the Ministers to put a stop to it.” Quig scratched his chin and met the Half-Orc’s expectant look. “What? You want me to personally vet bolos for you?”
"That's right, you'll be the face to cash in, I've got other things to tend to, and I'd rather not walk into any of the ministries right now," Mordecai responds.
The fat man gaped at him. “You ain’t asking for much, are you? I donno, Mord. It’s not like I’m the Blue Cobra’s or something. I’m just a clerk, you know?”
After some thought Mordecai responds, "Fair enough, Quig - I'll vet and collect, I just can't show my face in the ministry until I'm forgotten. I heard a crier today - they described me along with Hadara... at least what I looked like last night."
Mordecai takes in a breath and sighs, "I'm not used to being one of the hunted. Once I'm out of the bolos and another week has passed after that, I'll go visit you at your office."
“Good idea,” Quig says, reaching for his mug. “If anything interesting comes up I’ll have someone bring it to you.”
"Now, the real interesting stuff? Well, that depends on how attached, entrenched and enamored you are with our government. So, how much are you?"
Quig looked surprised again, than looked annoyed. It wasn’t hard to see that he didn’t like where the conversation might be going. Poking at the cold remains of his dinner Quig. “The Lion’s family been ruling the city for, well, for more time than I can count. It has its bad parts, but there’s good stuff, too. Even talking about such things can get a floob fingered or worse, you know?” The fat man shook his head and leaned forward, “I like ya Mord, and I’d hate ta see your name on a bag and tag notice…on the other hand…” There was a longer moment as the man’s eyes flicked across the occupants seated at nearby tables “Now, if’n your saying you’ve found some…interesting stuff, there are certain nobs and high ups that would pay quite well, if’n you know what I’m saying. Wait!?, what’s your opinion on the establishment?” The man’s eyes narrowed slightly. “It’s a big city, you know. There’s always some nut whose got an ax to grind.”
"Look - I ain't got a gripe with the government and may the gods bless the Lion and his pride. I'm just saying, I found out stuff last night and it seems the people that hired this Hadara - and trust me he did more than just talk revolutionary talk - was someone here... in OUR city... and I'm pretty sure someone placed in our government...."
"Now, Quig... I'm going to say some things, and I'm going to need to trust you not to go overboard..."
Mordecai proceeds to tell Quig about the plot to poison the upcoming festivals through the baker...
“Not so – “Quig’s hand shot up as he hissed. “How’d you know about Garse the Gaffer? This Hadara fella feed you that name?”
"Yes," Mordecai responds, "he did. Both when he was delirious and unable to hold the truth back and later when he was sober but had come to trust me."
“I was in Flander’s office” – Flander’s, sub-minister of internal communications and Quig’s boss – “this morning when a bird came in with a message to hold up tomorrow’s news and announcements for the Criers – “
Mordecai interrupts, “This bird.... What did she look like? There was this woman at the tavern the other night that simply did not belong there, and she played it too coolly when everything began to go down - even Firehair got a little flustered."
“Mid length hair, raven black, dresses like a nob.”
Mordecai describes the woman from the tavern that was trying to catch his eye. The one sliding closer to Strax as the fight broke out.
Quig’s face breaks out in sweat even though he hadn’t taken another bite of the fish stew since Mordecai had sat down. “Her name’s Bilina. Works for the crown – I think she’s a runner (handler) for the Head Adviser’s office, though tha rumors in tha palace say she’s a Blue Cobra. Come ta think about it, it was a bit strange ‘cause a bit later a page from the Head Adviser’s office (Altar the Lion’s right hand) showed up with a notice for us to distribute to the masses. This here Garse was captured in a raid overnight. A troop of men-at-arms from the Blackheart’s (A military unit belonging to the royal guards) stormed his flat an’ took him in custody but not before he tried to put a few of them through a window or something. He’s for the headsman’s ax, you can bet.” For a fat pit fighter turned government flunky, Quig’s mind was sharper than many gave him credit for. Maybe not as quick as some but he had a knack for seeing through a wall, given time.
"See, there's no way they would be able to get actionable information and act on it that quickly... but they did - because someone in some wing of the government came up with the blasted idea. Probably a group that knows how to operate with discretion and absolute will," Mordecai replies exasperated. He then, after a pause, whispers, "A group like the Blue Cobras."
“Wonder what the bird’s game is,” he said after a pregnant moment. “It was as if she knew ‘fore hand ‘cause she stopped in early, than left, probably to visit the Head Adviser’s office to arrange for an official notice for this Garse fellow. An’ you said Hadara dropped a few more names? Whatever’s in the offering sounds rather convoluted, you know?” Quig shakes his head. “Too much isn’t known yet…”
After a bit of silence, Mordecai speaks, "Look, I could be wrong. Just - too many impossibilities. The whole bloody city is going mad it seems." He slides his chair next to Quig's, before telling him, somewhat unsettled as he does, "There was a dead elven woman in the sewers. She looked like a noble, or at least wealthy. All her belongings were still on her, so it wasn't a mugging gone wrong. And there was a weird puncture wound on the back of her neck, as if a man-sized mosquito bit her and, well, drank her. I met a naturalist that I'm going to visit who may shed some light on what could've done that."
The fatman’s eyes blinked as he sat back and tried to chew on what the Half-Orc had just said. Draining his mug, Quig shook his head. “Another missin’ nob. It’s been going on now for ‘bout two months. One or two every fiveday. Either nob’s or family of wealthy merchants. A lot of heat’s being sent up the towers’ of all the Ministries. If’n it was anyone less, few would care, y’know? Even stranger is tha’ a few of those who’ve gone missing have turned up days or fiveweeks later an’ claim to have no idea where they’ve been or what happened to them. A couple of them are under care of the healers at The Black Rose, or so I’ve read in various messages to Flander’s. Dead elf, eh? There’s a delegation of high elven muckitymucks that arrived a few days ago for the upcoming festival, wonder if she’s with them.”
“What about this, whadya say his name was? Fuzzface? Sounds more like an alias,” Quig grumbles.
"Fuzzface? Actually - you might be able to shed light on that. This" Fuzzface" works within the ministry and seems to be the person this Bilina woman responds to. Apparently Bilina also works for a widow, but I don't know if that's connected to anything," Mordecai responds. "Does 'fuzzface' ring a bell for you? For that matter, what of 'Garbel' and 'Silver Dance?' See whatever is going on, I'm pretty sure this 'Fuzzface' is orchestrating the..." in a whisper, "...assassination..." then back to a low, but more normal tone, "...of this 'Garbel' to occur during the 'silver dance.' via glass shards we within a gorse berry pie. This Hadara was also obsessed with ravens splotched with blood - he said it during his stupor and then we found one in the docks by the sewer entrance we took. Not sure if he's superstitious or if it actually means something. Any of this make sense to you?"
Quig scratched at the stubble on his face. “Some an’ none. Fuzzface kinda makes me think of someone with a beard, maybe a crappy one or a big, thick one, y’know? I can think of a half a hundred such floobs prancin’ around the various ministries. Hell, half the city’s bearded like as not.” He shook his head. “Don’t recognize this Garbel either, though I can ask ‘round. Now this Silver Dance reminds me of the Royal Dance of Silver. It’ tha’ biggest masquerade ball o’ the festivle an’ held at the palace under the graces of Altar the Lion. If’n this…thing…is gonna go down there, then these floobs are likely lookin’ to take down someone or someone's high up. Not sure about no widow or bloody ravens.”
Waving towards the bar for a couple of fresh mugs of beer, Quig sighs, “Troublin’ winds, my friend. Feel’s like a dark storm far out on tha horizon, coming in with tha tide. What with tha Festivel o’ Silver next week, what better time ta pull off somethin’ foul. First all these nobs goin’ missing, now this…plot. Still, knowledge is power an’ such things can lead to opportunities for those in tha know. What’s yer plans next?”
Mordecai, after some silence passes between the two of them as they digest the conversation, finally says, "You are right about one thing... with the city sliding into chaos, despite the source, there will be money to be made. Just need to be a little careful about how we go about it and who we can trust."
Mordecai will be observing Quig closely throughout the conversation, trying to ascertain the honesty of his responses and for signs of betrayal - Quig is self-interested, but to Mordecai has always been a straightforward man.
"Well, right now, I'm going to see this naturalist about the mosquito death. Maybe she's heard of such a thing. Which reminds me - if that elvish delegation sets up an official missing person and includes a drawing or description of their missing friend, see if you can get a copy - I'm curious to know how it compares to the person I found in the sewers," Mordecai states.
Mordecai continues, "And regarding this Bilina-Garbel-Silver Dance business... I'll see what I can find. Try to do the same on your end. Preferably something that leads to us profiting. Oh, and I just remembered - I think I know the name of the bugger that flew the coop from the baker's last night: Mardiat. Hadara dropped the name 'Mardiat' during my interrogation. He's a dwarf and a co-conspirator in this plot. If you do go about asking questions - be careful about it."
“I’ll do that. Might ask this naturalist ‘bout the Raven. Can’t think of any breeds ‘round these parts with red markings but who knows.”
Mordecai orders a light meal for himself and a round for both him and Quig. He eats and drinks silently with Quig, letting the weight of the conversation sink in.
The walk through the quarter seemed to take forever and timeless. The mists swirled around them, caressing them in ways that caused Lilita’s skin to bristle in bumps. The – what had Livvi called him? The Noblemonster had refused to respond to any more queries or questions, intent on some destination. She knew that they had traversed one quarter to another but not how, anymore than the loss of time could be explained easily. At one point he swept her up into his arms and easily ran up the side of a building before setting her down and continuing across the city rooftops.
“Yesss,” he hissed in satisfaction. Taking Lilita’s wrist in his iron grip he pulled her close so she could feel him pressing against her back and made a slight gesture towards a nearby window. The Half-Elf; Livvi, was leaning out her window and fiddling with a loose brick. Moments later the Livvi was back inside her small flat.
“What do you think of her, Lilita Lilitu”
Lilita looks at him her eyes tearing up she whimpers, "please father, why are we here? Take me somewhere else, please. Show me something beautiful, something mysterious... a place that has special meaning to you... to us!"
“The whole city is your father, Lilita Lilitu, I am your master,” he hisses into her ear. “Look at her. She is beautiful, is she not? She is something mysterious, is she not? Beauty is passing. Mysteries can be unraveled. She is a sheep, a cow, chattel to be used and consumed.” His body pressed closer to Lilita’s as the hunger in his voice rumble in her ear. “So eager to please, so desperate to divert me from the prey that surrounds us. Come now, say the word. Just nod oh so innocently in that way you’ve practiced so hard to do and I will take her; consume her. You can hold my cloak and tremble in that horrified way that so many sheep like to do.”
Only a few strides away Livvi was opening a box and taking out that red gown the Half-Elf had tried on in Avgrat’s only a few nights ago.
"No, you are my father... for others, you may be their master but not me, I can feel it. You might be a monster, but I don't care, just please don't go out of your way to show me what a monster you can be. I know what you are capable of but you capable of far more too if you want, if but try. But yes, father, Livvi is beautiful, very beautiful but then the fey are exotic sensual creatures even the half-breeds like Livvi make females like me seem to be nothing more than ugly clumsy cows by comparison... as you seem so fond of saying. Is that what want to hear me say, father, that I am an ugly cow? Do want me to be jealous of her, to envy and hate her?"
“She is a threat, asking questions, seeking answers to riddle’s that are above her station as a cow. A threat that will soon draw the attention of…the others. Yet you still seek to dodge, to avoid making a choice; of taking a stance, Lilita Lilitu. If I am your father, as you desperately want me to be, than shouldn’t her threat to me concern you? Monster that your kind all to often brand mine with, shouldn’t you wish to protect Me from them?”
His iron grip holding her tightly, too tightly, it hurts her... "please father you are holding me too tight; it hurts... please let go of me just for a little bit and I will think about holding your cloak for you... Did you buy Livvi that beautiful majestic gown? It is the same one that she tried on at the shop isn't it?"
“Refusing to make a choice is still a choice, Lilita Lilitu. Attempting to buy time, perhaps? Hoping some knight will come rescue you? No, of course not. I have watched you now for some time. You beg to be used, to be consumed, only you project this sublime innocence; this pity me for I am a victim, yes. Or, perhaps, you stall in hopes that she” – his face turns towards the Half-Elf, unaware of the danger lurking outside her window – “will leave, thus gaining her a bit more time. My hunger is eternal and grows, its own form of dominance. The master as I am the slave.” The noble monster’s voice thickened, “Tonight it will be slackened, both the desperate hunger and the need for carnal delectations. Choose, Lilita Lilitu. Which is your part to play? Which part shall her burden be? Perhaps I should help you decide, yes? Is this what you secretly want?”
His hands loosened their grip only to up to her shoulders. Lilita felt the slight tug and with the damage done to the front of her dress from earlier in the evening it easily slid over her thin shoulders to pool at her waist. She felt one of his arms encircle her waist, his cold hand lightly caressing her belly while the other hand gently pulled aside her long hair, baring her neck.
“Secretly you resent others, such as your Fey friend for their external beauty, denying your own as surly you are not deserving of such praise. Say it, daughter” – his tone mocked – “and you shall sustain one need while she acts as surrogate for you to sate the other…chos – “
A dark cloaked figure suddenly dropped right in front of them.
"So sorry if I'm ruining the moment, m'Lord and m'Lady..." He put both his middle and index fingers under his hood and into his mouth, letting forth such a powerful whistle that it would surely awaken half the neighborhood. [Reaction for the Vampire = 87%]
The noble monster hissed, baring his lone tooth. “How dare – “
A half dozen figures appeared on the rooftop behind them. Several shouting for the masked figure to halt, others were readying crossbows or shouting down at unseen support on the street below.
For a moment the dark stranger stared at Lilita, his expression was one of shock and wonder. His hand extended as if to say come with me.
Lilita does not speak, instead, she nods a silent yes... placing her hand inside her captor's hand... willing to go and escape with him. Lilita is not ready to give up on the creature... meaning to prove wrong all the hurtful things he has said to her. Not wishing to hurt or betray him as the silver-haired woman Lilita believes that she reminds him of, did...
From the next roof over appears a trio of men-at-arms. Crossbows in hand they fire in unison. Two bolt’s wiz past, one precariously close. A third seems to be deflected by the possible vampire as it ricochets off his raised arm and spirals off at an angle that sends it shattering a glass pane in one of the inn’s windows. Inside there’s a cry of pain and an explosion of cursing.
Lilita stays frozen in place right where she is, so does not move, speak or otherwise take any action(s) preferring to leave such to males to work out between them since there is basically nothing she can say or do that would make one lick of difference with regard to either side.
Fury rages in the noble monsters’ eyes as he spins and hisses overtly at the men-at-arms. The colors and style of their armor mark them as members of the Blackhearts, one of the various companies serving in the Royal Host and not members of the City Guard. In the narrow alley below comes the sound of many mailed feet clattering on the cobblestones. In the lead is a knight in full armor. Visor flipped back he peers upwards. “In the name of The Lion, surrender your arms and be questioned!” the knight orders loudly.
With a sigh and a slight shrug, the dark stranger turns and rushes off across the roof and disappears into the mist and nightly shadows. Beside her the noble monster halted his advance towards the crossbowmen and turned to sneer down at the knight and men-at-arms below.
From Livvi’s open window came: "Get away from her, you bastard!" As the Half-Elf dove out of her window in a running jump, rapier in hand her other hand made an arcane like gesture.
A roar of anger came from the noble monster, more out of rage at her audacity than from the actual damage. The Vampire wheeled around to face Livvi and in doing so, revealed himself fully to the crossbowmen who shouted warnings even as they fired at a volley at him and Lilita. One shot so close to the Grey Lady as to further damage her ragged dress. Another struck the beast but left no mark of damage.
“Kill you all!” the vampire raged.
Lilita blinks and whispers, "fight them or save me," she says simply as without looking as she jumps off the roof-top figuring only her monster can hear her voice, so low and hushed is it in comparison with all the shouts and sounds of battle about to begin or in progress as the case may be.
A look of shock crosses the Half-Elf’s face. She drops her rapier and takes three long strides and goes over the side of the building with, shouting an arcane word. (casting Feather Fall) [GM roll for grapple: Livvi’s 16+3=19 vs. Lilita’s 10+2-12 > Livvi’s successful//Using Dex(acrobatics as the base for both characters)].
Halfway to the ground Lilita feels strong, slender arms clasping her around the chest. With a little laugh, Livvi murmurs, “Gotcha.”
The two ladies drift to the ground, stepping lightly onto the cobblestones in front of the knight on his large horse as if they were coming down a staircase instead of falling over 30 feet. "Please protect us - I think that creature is a vampire!" Livvi calls out so all can hear. She then helps to place Lilita's dress back on to cover her naked upper body, completely forgetting that she is herself naked except for some paint, dried flour and sand, and a now-ripped pencil skirt sewn with shiny bits like fish scales...
For a moment her father figure stands at the edge of the roof gazing down at her with blood shot eyes, bolt’s whizzing around or bouncing off him. One becomes tangled in the blue turban. Around her, the Half-Elf is talking excitedly; the knight shouting orders as more floobs arrive. Some locals, drawn to the commotion, other’s City Guard, then his form wavers as he, too, steps off the edge, only to morph into a large bat that races off, into the dark mist.
Livvi quickly returns to 'her' square, standing upon a barrel to deliver her evening announcements. She repeats her standard attention-getting routine - clapping her hands three times in sharp succession, then launching into an oratory performance beyond what a normal crier would do. "Good people of Tarantis, lend me an ear, for I have important news of grave import!" Livvi had learned the announcements by heart, even the new ones from this morning, so she did not need to fumble around with the tube or her papers. Instead, she held the official-looking tube up and pointed with it to emphasize certain points or to silence the crowd.
"First, a word of encouragement for the public good. Your beneficent leader, Atar the Lion, does decree that his beautiful city should not be fouled by excrement of its population - be they nobles or commoners. Therefore, the Pride decrees that urinating or defecating in the streets, or dumping your wastes in the street, is a most heinous act and must henceforth stop lest you be punished and fined up to 10 pieces of gold." Here Livvi raises the tube for dramatic flair..."And if you think to yourself, 'How would the Lion know if I shat in the dark corner behind the alehouse?' let me assure you, his wizards can not only determine your identity by your droppings better than the King's own Rangers tracking a deer, but they could also send a swarm of small, biting insects to hunt you down based on your offal. I have it on good authority they will enter your orifices and lay their eggs inside you! So good people, I am begging you, with tears in my eyes, use the toilets and sewers!!"
There was an instant reaction. Some called or shouted down the ‘new law’ while others shouted and cheered, heads nodding in agreement. Most of the crowd stood in silence or quietly murmuring to those nearest to them, confused about something that was as old as time. How else, they muttered, were they to dispose of such wastes? The drama served to draw more to move within hearing, curious about what was causing the commotion.
Livvi had made that announcement up , but she was so tired of mucking around on questionable puddles and the ever-present smell of piss that she had decided to do something about it...The rest of the announcements were as written - warnings about agents from elsewhere - grand announcements about the upcoming festivities, and news of a special tax to be levied for upgraded armor and weapons to protect the city.
With one last theatrical pose, she jumped down and made her way to the Government Quarter to turn in the day’s parchments and pick up her silver. She arrived at the office with little time to spare as Quig was closing for the evening. The rest of the staff had already left; the sub-minister probably had left mid-day as was his usual.
“Didn’t think youse was coming, Livvi is it?” The chief clerk took the parchments and tossed them on a nearby desk. “Gonna be more in tha morning, for sure. I’m expectin that there will be a big hangin’ in a few days, assumin’ the justice floobs don’t muck things up.”
"Ohh…" Livvi acted impressed. "Was it the man from the announcements? The one who caused a ruckus with the Lion's men? I'm sure putting a face to the warnings we've been issuing will get the town worked up - next thing you'll be up to your armpits in random tips and complaints about rude neighbors in an effort to turn in possible subversives. I would have thought the Cobra's would take the guy quietly and interrogate him for a while."
Then she stops, looks up for a moment, and finishes, "...or maybe they HAVE had him for a while and now want to dispose of him. That sounds more like the Lion's secret police. Anyways, have a good night, Quig. See you in the morning!" Livvi takes her leave and wanders through the darkening streets to her home.
“Can’t say, ta be honest. From tha description though, I don’t think so.” Quig pulled the door shut and locked it. “Some of The Lion’s men bagged o chief conspirator from tha Overlord (Ruler of the City State of the Invincible Overlord) last night. Bloke put up a huge fight while some of his fellow agent’s escaped, or so it’s said. Least ways, one did. He fled over the rooftops, but not before takin’ a bolt to tha head. I suspect he’s lying in some gutter, dead now. Yeah, have a good evenin’.”
For two gold a month, Livvi had secured a modest set of rooms on the second floor of the Whispering Mane Inn, comprised of a study and a small bedroom with an attached privvy. Livvi's collection of books and instruments occupied the study, and her clothes, weapons and travelling gear she kept in the bedroom. Rather sparse for the middle-class image she projected. When she gets home, Livvi opens the window, leans out, and checks the loose brick to the left side of the window. She was looking for the note with coded instructions from her underworld contact, whom she had left the ribbon for this morning. She needed answers that could only be found whispered in the dark alleys and in the mists.
As she retrieved a note with random seeming scribbles and marks on either side there was a light rap on the door. A muffled voice came through the thick wood. “Miss Rahl? Package came for ya while ya was out.” The voice belonged to Hamron Ilkestoon, owner of the Whispering Mane.
"One moment, Master Hamron." Livvi quickly tucked the note into her pocket and headed towards the door, leaving the window open to allow the fresh air into her room. She opened the door to find the man standing there, holding a large, ribbon tied box, with Avgrat’s icon emblazoned in gold leaf on top. “A courier dropped it off. Had ta tip him o silver crown, I did.” Livvi took the package from Hamron and slipped two silver coins into his hand as she did. It was a smooth and practiced move - not unusual for the middle and upper classes to tip people in a manner that was not obvious.
“Would ya like me to send up some supper, miss?” Hamron asked, his wandering eyes lingering on Livvi’s curves. “Some wine, per’aps?”
"Yes, please. some of the stew I smelled when I came in, and some of the chilled blush wine would be marvelous. Thank you, as always you are a most gracious and attentive host." Livvi was really more interested in the coded note in her pocket, but she had a reputation, and appearances, to maintain, and it was uncommon for a young maiden to pass up the 'free' meal that came with her rooms. Livvi smiled at the man and gently closed the door. Obviously Bilina sprung for the red gown and would no doubt extract its value from Livvi in some personal way.
Livvi set the box down on the table and opened it slowly, holding her breath. Obviously Bilina had sprung for the red gown (and would no doubt extract its value from Livvi in some personal way...) Livvi gasped in pleasure and excitement! "Oohh...I am going to have a LOT of fun - and mischief - in this gown!" She takes the silken dress out and hangs it up in her standing dresser to prevent any wrinkles from marring the smooth fabric. She tucks the ribbon and gold leaf tag into a separate drawer, and finally stores the box under her bed for future use. As excited as she was about the dress, the note was silently calling her attention, so the bard will lock the door, sit at the table, and examine the note.
Around the edge were a series of hash marks and circles. Since it was a half-moon tonight and it was the fifth cycle, she found the corresponding marks and folded the paper, so they met. She repeated this several more time, matching marks and circles in the required pattern, until the paper was folded over on itself to reveal words from the seemingly random scribbles. Upon deciphering the code Livvi was confronted with the place of the meet. The Topless Tavern located in Cut Throat Alley down in the Dock Quarter. (It’s listed in the Tarantis city guide ;p) So named because the owner, Lo Ping, didn’t allow anyone in who is wearing a covering of any sort on the upper torso. As a result, it was a favorite hangout for those with body tattoos; a great deal of competition went on in comparing the artistic qualities of the myriad tattoos on display, and none were prouder of his (or her) collection than the owner of the tavern himself. The place was not usually frequented by females, but Lo Ping’s waitresses and barmaids are female, much to the delight of most of the customers. Lo Ping also rented small rooms on the second and third floors of his establishment and, aside from his interest in body art, Lo Ping is very fashion conscious. All his clothes were tailor-made of black silk and always at the height of fashion. Tin Teak – her contact - is an olive-skinned man from the Land's beneath two Moons, with a checkered reputation but few knew more about the workings and goings-on’s in the shadows of the city.
"Tin, you pox-marked boar, I should have known you'd eventually find a way to look at my boobs." Livvi says under her breath. A few minutes later there was another knock on her door - but Livvi could tell it wasn't Hamron Ilkestoon. She tucked the note back into her pocket, walked over to the door, unlocked it, and looked out to see young Neb standing there with her stew, a large slab of dark bread, and a glass of light red wine.
"Da sez ta watch ou' for da crunchy bits in da stew...sumpin' 'bou' yous teeth bein' too purdy to get busted up." The lad of about eight years simply hands her the food on a wooden platter and leaves. He was always a bit shy around her. Livvi laughs a little and sits down to eat, enjoying the food but trying to think of how she could get into the Topless Tavern without being completely exposed. She had about an hour or so to figure it out...
Part of a bard's training is in the theater - learning proper oratory techniques for stages large and small, how to move with grace or as a limping beggar, and the art of transforming your face and body to appear as different characters. These skills were also valuable off-stage, helping some bards to gain access to areas and situations otherwise unavailable to them. Livvi started thinking of the tricks and techniques she knew, trying to find a way to get out of appearing in the rendezvous completely bare from the waist up. She had no tattoos, and clothing was strictly prohibited.
And then it came to her. Of course! The mermaid costume from that black comedy "Barbara Manatee - Mermaid of Misery" could be modified a bit to suit her needs. Instead of tattoos, Livvi would use a combination of body paint and a clever mix of flour, sand, and water to create the impression that she was not naked! It was WAY more risqué than she had ever imagined she would appear in public - it made the thought of wearing the low-cut red dress seem like dressing in a full corset and petticoats! Deception: 25
It took her longer than expected to apply the paint and batter, but when she was done, Livvi felt that she could not have done any more. She pulled her dress over her head - knowing that walking down the streets like this would be scandalous beyond recovery - and headed for the tavern. [Perception roll = 26]
Making a last-minute check of her disguise in the small (yet extravagant) wall mirror that had been a gift from a (admirer or brief paramour?) a strange vision appeared in the background. In the mirror, through the window behind her was the gray lady. She stood a dozen strides away on top of the flat roof of a cheese seller’s shop across the way. Even stranger, Lilita stood, bared to the waist, seemingly having a highly emotional conversation with herself.
<blink> Livvi swirled around at the sight of Lilita half-naked in her mirror, dropping the brush and a piece of slate with the mixed green and blue paint she had been applying to her midsection. <blink> Turning towards the window, two things came immediately to Livvi’s mind. First, the Grey Lady was standing there, half naked, only she wasn’t alone. Looming behind her, the gemstone in his blue turban seeming to flash in the dark mist, was the noblemonster. <blink> Now seeing the horrible noble from last night in control of the lady, Livvi frowns in confusion. <blink> She spins around and looks in the mirror again, but the man was no longer there in the reflection - only the Gray Lady. <blink> Around again and looking right at them through her open window Livvi plainly sees the man and the woman. As she watched one of his arms went around the girl’s waist while he snarled and moved as if he meant to bite her. <blink> "NO!" she screamed silently in her mind.
The puzzle pieces started falling into place in her mind. Investigation: 8 <blink> A man who could charm women, even one with elven blood. <blink> A man with tremendous wealth and insatiable lusts. <blink> A man who could disappear in the blink of an eye. <blink> A man whose reflection could not be seen in a mirror. <blink> A man about to bite the exposed neck of Lilita. <blink> In the space of a few heartbeats, all of this raced through Livvi's mind, and the adrenaline again coursed through her veins. Mixed with the rush was the power of her magic, straining to be let loose to wreak her will upon the world. Livvi could not contain the words that sprang from her mouth as she ran to the window, grabbing her rapier from the corner next to the bed as she went. She wished she had Bilina's wand - but knew that she had to do something with what she had now. <blink>
Even as she aimed for the window with a running leap a dark figure dropped seemingly out of nowhere next to Lilita and the Vampire. He gave a mocking bow than blew a sharp whistle. For a moment the dark stranger seemed to reach out for the Grey Lady but Lilita shook her head ever so slightly even as her hand slipped into that of the noble monsters. From somewhere nearby came a shower of bolts. One skipped off the Vampire’s arm and spiraled out of view. The other’s missed. Men were shouting. As her leap carried her across the short space between the inn and the cheesemonger’s rooftop Livvi caught more excitement in the alley below. A knight on horseback bellowed, ““In the name of The Lion, surrender your arms and be questioned!” s fast as he arrived the dark stranger rushed off, leaving Lilita and the others to their fate.
A sound erupted from the bard's throat - not at all human - full of rage and dissonance and pain and hate. The words barely discernible over the awful vocal harmonies coming from somewhere. She focused every bit of these dissonant whispers on the creature she was now convinced was a vampire. "Get away from her, you bastard!" (Casting Dissonant Whispers at 2nd level. 10 psychic damage, or half if he makes a DC13 WIS Save <> Vampire’s Will 13 > GM Roll 5, fails = takes 10 psychic damage]
A roar of anger came from the noble monster, more out of rage at her audacity than from the actual damage. The Vampire wheeled around to face Livvi and in doing so, revealed himself fully to the crossbowmen who shouted warnings even as they fired at a volley at him and Lilita. One shot so close to the Grey Lady as to further damage her ragged dress. Another struck the beast but left no mark of damage.
“Kill you all!” the vampire raged.
Down in the street the knight could be heard dismounting and issuing orders for someone to fetch the nearest priests – and the City Watch (Note: In her brief glass Livvi recognizes the devices the men-at-arms are wearing, denoting them members of the Blackhearts, an Elite company from one of The Lion’s Royal Army.)
There were several things that tried to occupy Livvi's mind in those few moments...the noble revealed for what he truly was. The poor, tragic life of Lilita. The strange, hooded man who had done almost as much as Livvi to save Lilita's life. The Blackhearts appearing from nowhere. But the one thought that won out was the imminent danger she and Lilita were in. A small, rational part of her brain whispered into the tumultuous chaos of her mind - "Get away."
This whisper managed to quiet every other thought long enough for Livvi to drop her rapier and run towards the girl as she goes over the side like stepping off a short curb. Livvi takes three long strides and goes over the side of the building with the Grey Lady, shouting an arcane word. (casting Feather Fall) [GM roll for grapple: Livvi’s 16+3=19 vs. Lilita’s 10+2-12 > Livvi’s successful//Using Dex(acrobatics as the base for both characters)].
Even as Livvi’s thoughts whisper in her mind the Grey Lady blinks and whispers, "fight them or save me," she says simply as without looking as she jumps off the roof-top half a step ahead of Livvi’s courageous dive.
The two ladies drift to the ground, stepping lightly onto the cobblestones in front of the knight on his large horse as if they were coming down a staircase instead of falling over 30 feet. "Please protect us - I think that creature is a vampire!" Livvi calls out so all can hear. She then helps to place Lilita's dress back on to cover her naked upper body, completely forgetting that she is herself naked except for some paint, dried flour and sand, and a now-ripped pencil skirt sewn with shiny bits like fish scales...
For a moment her father figure stands at the edge of the roof gazing down at them with blood shot eyes, bolt’s whizzing around or bouncing off him. One becomes tangled in the blue turban. Around her, the Grey Lady is staring back up at the vampire with a strange look in her eyes; the knight is shouting orders as more floobs arrive. Some locals, drawn to the commotion, other’s City Guard, then as they watch the vampire’s form wavers as he, too, steps off the edge, only to morph into a large bat that races off, into the dark mist.
Gorandan Talis had all the stereotypical looks of an old wizard. Long beard streaked with grey and white, bushy eyebrows to match, and dressed in a set of robes decorated by magical wards and glyphs. More of a hedge wizard than an archwizard, Talis had spent a good portion of his life adventuring to far off lands and mysterious places. Closing on ninety, the wizard’s days were spent puttering around the small townhouse he owned in the Sage’s Quarter training birds, or so it was said when Mordecai made some describe inquires and was pointed in Talis’ direction. While old, the wizard’s mind was sharp and possessed enough ready magic to be dangerous if provoked.
"You've seen several lifetimes worth of adventure, haven't you?" Mordecai asks as respectfully as he can, while he hands the wand over.
Accepting the wand, the old wizard smiled. “Oh yes. I have seen the fire pits of Fornax and traveled to the edge of the world. Which turned out to be rather anti climatic once the cloud cover broke revealing the edge was really just the beginning of a colossal canyon, beyond which lay the fabled Jungles of Greanor where dragon like creatures from the time before time still exist.”
Mordecai gives a low whistle as an expression of wonderment spreads across his face.
Handling the slender, crystal tipped wand with care the old wizard peered at it carefully. Talis’ didn’t ask where Mordecai had gotten it, nor under what conditions. Mumbling under his breath he passes a wrinkled, spotted hand over the wand causing it to glow a soft violet.
“The wand displays properties of the elements, particularly lightning,” the old wizard said. “Without attempting to use it I would think it is lightning magic, yes. Elvish crafted as well, mmm, yes.”
He returns the wand.
"So, it's a wand that spews forth lightning magic? Interesting. Is it something I could use, or must one be trained in the arcane? How do I use it?" Mordecai asks as he looks at the wand carefully.
“To answer the first question, yes. The second question is a bit more complex,” replied the old wizard. “For one trained in the arcane arts; who possesses the proper phrase or command word, then using a wand is as simple or simpler as using the same sort of spell direction. But not all wands work this way. The more powerful the magics within in the more specific the conditions must be for their use. Some non-practitioners of the arcane are known to develop a knack or skill for using such things, probably more because of handling such items of power than from becoming attuned. From personal experience I have seen inexperienced floobs pick up a wand and toy with it long enough to accidently cause it to discharge, but I suspect that it would be a case by case basis. Meaning, depends on the level of the magic imbuing the wand or simple dumb luck.” [GM Notes: I reviewed 5E’s rules on using magical devices and see that they tightened up the requirements. However, as I’ve said before, I am more partial to 3.5 rules. So, anyone can use a wand with third level (or lower) spells following the 3.5 rules. Use Magical Device increases target number required to activate. Without Use Magical Device it takes a straight 20 for success. Failure (aside from a natural 1) simply means the PC looks – goofy, waving and flicking the wand around. A natural 1 can cause a misfire, with unknown results]
“That wand, as best as I can estimate, is good for eighteen (18) uses and has a street value of, oh, say, twenty platinum, give or take.”
"Oh, could you also take a look at this?" Mordecai asks as he produces the ring. He then continues “The bloke who found it said it might be magical given all the runes on it."
Holding the ring in his palm Talis repeated the spell he had used on the wand, causing it to glow softly. “Hmm, yes… Elvish craft work, yes. An interesting item, hmmm. It appears to protect the wearer from certain kinds of mental powers, such as preventing someone from reading your thoughts, detecting if your lying, or your leanings (alignment). This sort of device is often called a Ring of Mind Shielding. Quite valuable to the right floobs. I’d hazard the street value at four or five hundred platinums.” He handed the ring back.
Mordecai takes off one of his gloves, puts on the ring on whichever finger it fits and puts the glove back on. He nods at Gorandan, then asking, "Do I have to do something to get it to start working for me?"
“No, no, not with this kind of magic. Simply wearing the ring is enough. It’ll take a day or two before attuning to you, though.”
"Thank you, kindly, Mr. Talis. Here's your fee," Mordecai tells him as he hands over the two gold crowns that they had agreed upon. "If there's anything I could do for you, let me know."
Mordecai explains to Gorandan Talis how he can be reached, if so desired and expresses his desire to see that he hopes to bring him more and better business in the future.
Wound tended and healing, some sleep under his belt and the awareness of a chance meeting aiding his escape from some determined pursuers, Holden heads to the Eight Star to meet with the raven-haired beauty and exchange the wooden vial for a nice pouch of gold.
Sitting midway along Trollhraun Row, a side street cutting through the worst part of the Poor Quarter, the Eight Star Bar was a bawdy place with a vile reputation. Cheap drinks and cheap customers, most of which were either recovering from an all-night bender or winding up for one as the evening hours approached. Fairly large as bars went, there was a stage in one corner. Empty for now, but Holden was familiar enough with the establishment to know that would change come sunset. The owner, one Lep Stax was rumored to be well connected with the local underworld, some rumors even suggesting that he headed a powerful thieves guild. Other, more dangerous rumors were circulating that there were, perhaps, even darker things in play at the Eight Star. Things that could get a person killed, if they weren’t careful. Like the raven-haired beauty sitting casually at a table near the bar.
Bilina whose last name few knew, was sipping a rich (for the Eight Star) wine and watching him as he approached. “Nice to see you again, Jacob. Did you have any problems?”
"I don't suppose you're talking about my broken heart, Bilina." They had been playing this little game since a while now. But alas, it was mostly just a game to break the ice between two professionals. Though Holden wouldn't really have minded the literal breaking of his heart, if it was by the hands of this raven-haired beauty. And it would probably indeed happen one of these days, if he kept working her looks-easy-but-will-actually-get-you-into-a-whole-lot-of-trouble jobs. Jacob pulled up a chair, the back of it in front of him, leaning his elbows on it, appearing an empty shot glass that he had nicked from a nearby table, cleaning it summarily with one of his sleeves. He put it on the table, smiling his shady but not entirely unkempt smile at Bilina. He had paid attention in the trimming of his beard for this occasion, and he was confident that the healing crossbow injury across his temple would only add to his roguish mystique. Women liked a man with scars, or so he told himself.
"Mind if I'm sharing in your drink?" Jacob pushed the empty shot glass towards Bilina with one hand, while the other set a pouch containing the merchandise requested by the femme fatale near the half full bottle of Eight Star vintage. This way Bilina could naturally reach towards him and collect the pouch on her way back, and eventually hand over recompense, without drawing too much unwanted attention.
With a coy smile Bilina pours him a shot straight from the glass in her hand. Her other hand first went to push back a long strand of her blue-black hair than casually came forward to brush her fingers against the pouch.
As they met halfway, Holden kept his hands firmly on the pouch, looking the raven-haired beauty straight into her blue eyes, and whispered "I'm a thief, not a murderer, just remember next time. You might have a certain Widow looking for the same exact merchandise, also a whole lot of trigger happy Blackheart floobs out and about yesterday night, but I decided to bring it straight back to you instead—without any whys, ands or buts—I'm a keeper like that."
Holden winked once in what he would've thought being a terribly charming and flirtatious manner, leaning back smoothly against nothing, the back of his chair actually being in front of him, holding one of the pommels of the chairs' recline in his leathery gloved hand, the other sipping freshly poured bitter wine out of his smeary shot glass. It could've been poison as far he cared, the wild and at the same time somehow sophisticated scent of Bilina’s' hair alone was already intoxicatingly worth it. "The things men will do for what they clearly are not meant to get."
At that a girlish titter escaped her lush lips. “Always a charmer, Jacob,” she said with another laugh. One that held a hint of naughty promise. “And handsome to boot. I – oh, but you’ve been hurt!” She sets her glass down and reaches over to lightly touch the healing wound. “From all your references I take it that things became complicated.” She winced slightly, her lips forming a little bow of displeasure.
“I am sorry about that. I asked for your services because I knew that you would succeed where others wouldn’t. That the Blackhearts were sent out was…unexpected. It’s like using a cleaver when a paring knife is called for.” She shook her head. Hand still on the pouch Bilina brushed the lacquered nail of her pinky against Holden’s wrist. “Such bravery, and skill, no less. You escaped, obviously. Of all the Royal Guard, the Blackhearts are the most tenacious about such things. Widow? – “her silky tone took on a hint of steel – “Did she stick her warty nose into this biz?”
"She didn't meddle directly; a Halfling was sent instead. Mighty good curser, too. Guildless by her own admittance, the little fella' even came clean with her employer after some improvised games involving a rope, the bed-foot and a trunk were played. Maybe I'll get to show you one day, it's a long story." Holden nursed the shot-glass between his fingers, though it was not intended for wine, sometimes in life you simply had to drink from the cup you were given. He downed a good bit of the bitter wine, tasting the sun of its' grapes on his tongue and imagining that same sun caressing Bilinas' naked body. Her voice shook him from his secret revelry not much unlike the sting of a whip waking a daydreaming slave. This was a job, and the woman before him very much out of his league, or as likely to get him killed, Jacob had to remind himself.
“Halfling you say. Slim, curly hair with a bit of a pert nose? Sounds like Elina Perky, terrible name, I know, but with Halflings, who knows,” Bilina wrinkled her nose slightly as she made a face. “Never met a Halfling who didn’t have a dozen names, surnames, and nicknames. Well, at least she didn’t try to steal you.” Whether the raven-haired beauty was talking about The Widow or The Halfling, she didn’t say.
"No, I'll be doing all the necessary stealing of hearts and other assorted goods 'round here, if you please." Holden smiled his trademark shady and more than a touch naive smile again, planning to down the rest of his vintage after raising the half empty shot glass towards Bilina. "Though, as you say, the night air is getting very brisk as of late; bolts and bats do make rooftops a rather dangerous place." And there it was. The cat was out of the bag. The not-so-subtle subtle hint at cost and subsequently demand for more work, the vague implication of a raise. This was usually where all pretense of flirtation would cease, a tiny paper with specifics about the next target switch sides from under the table, and Jacob get back to living his recluse and lonely lifestyle of theft and premeditation. People he dealt with did usually not pay him for smarmy conversation, even less so Bilina. He knew his place.
In the middle of signaling a barmaid to bring another bottle of wine and two glasses Bilina’s slender eyebrow arches. She turns back and cocks her head in confusion. “Bats?”
Holden put down his now emptied shot glass. "Yep. The kind of bat you'll find in fairy tale. The kind of fairy tale ending with canines piercing holes into a virgins' jugulars, and of bloody fountains springing up under the moons' uncaring smile." Then he swiped some of the remaining red wine off of his lips and onto his bracer, swiftly adding "Or so I've read in one of those cheap novels lying about at The Garnet Hand while waiting for an audience with the boss-lady." Jacob grimaced, slightly embarrassed at the confession of being a consumer of harlequin literature.
For a moment the woman looked uncomfortable, not shocked, than quickly recovered her composure as the wine and glasses arrived. Waiting for the barmaid to move out of earshot she shakes her head.
“There’s been…other incidents of late. People gone missing or turning up, mind changed if you will. Missing time from their memories.”
"There's nothing that won't happen -or hasn't already happened- in Tarantis, isn't it?" Holden silently wondered if all this wine was going to get detracted from his pay, or if he had hit some sort of nerve to warrant the suspiciously nice treatment.
Pouring for both Bilina’s sigh is deep and almost melancholy. “I don’t know how much of the city’s history you know, and I concede that it’s vast, considering it’s age, but this…infestation…seems to keep coming around. There was a dark time, or so the sage’s have said, when Tarantis was ruled by a coven of such beats. Sanguisuge, they were called. Some say that the Sanguisuge were never fully rooted out, only that they slipped deeper into the cracks and are still around.” The raven-haired beauty shuddered slightly and lifted her glass to her lips for a sip.
"What happens in Tarantis, stays in Tarantis." Jacob was enjoying this far too much. The only thing missing to make it all perfect would have been a plate of cheese. Thinking of it, he was already getting into his second cup of wine, had no breakfast to soak up the alcohol, and it was the middle of the afternoon. Bilina was bad influence. Gorgeous and will-get-you-oh-so-killed bad influence. Holden mirrored her drinking gesture.
The pouch was still sitting on the table between them. Bilina gave a soft snort then caught Holden’s eyes with her own. They were deep pools of rich blue. “You’re the best at recovering items, Jacob. How good are you at depositing them?”
Jacob sipped another generous sip from his glasses' vintage, slowly and deliberately swallowing it, grinning at Bilina only slightly as the healing injury on his temple flared. "That's why I run with the Garnet Hands. They often need types like me. But that's no news to you. If you're mentioning it, I bet that you already have some good way in mind of how to use me." The meaning written between the lines was rather obvious and gauche, but that wasn't the real implication. Their little flirting game had resumed, and that meant further business was afoot. "One of these nights you're going to get me killed, Bilina." Holden joked, but was being completely honest and unfiltered for the very first time since they started the conversation. "Me or somebody else. Is it?"
Light seemed to sparkle in her eyes. “For now, somebody else – “
Jacob made a gesture as if to stop the solicited answer. "I don't really have to or want to know who exactly stuck their hands in which wrong honey jar and now needs to be punished for it, with whatever deadly thing that vial is containing, but you should know that the Garnet Hands are go-getters, not undertakers. That's more in the pursue of the Night Stalkers, and I have left them a long time ago for this very reason." Holden caressed some of the curls in his beard that he had inherited from his father and mentor, a Night Stalker himself, as he continued "I can be your courier, your bed warmer, your errand boy, heck I'll even be your door mat-" Jacob said this last thing with much more seriously than might be warranted "But I'm not an assassin. You knew this when we entered in a relationship." Holden went back to a more flirtatious tone. He smiled, but it was completely out of place.
Leaning back like a cat half curled up in a comfortable chair, Bilina’s smile was almost Cheshire. “Some things are best never talked about. An adage comes to mind that if you want to keep a secret, don’t tell anybody and it holds true, mostly anyway. But there’s secrets, and there’s secrets.” As she spoke the raven-haired beauty pulled a short, red wax candle and set it on the table near the center. With a casual gesture of her fingers the wick flickered then glowed with a small, reddish light. Around them the sounds of conversation and tavern noise grew silent.
“I can understand your hesitation, truly I do. Assassination is necessary, at times, and there masters of that craft. Even so, every action can result in a death, no matter how hard one tries to avoid being the butterfly. Garse has an appointment with the headsman’s ax in the morning, thankfully that” – her pinky waved at the pouch – “wasn’t in his possession when he was pinched. That may save a life or too. Anyway, there are always plots in the works. In fact, I know of a man over in the Merchant Quarter whose consorting with a Demon and plotting an attack on The Lion. So, why haven’t the Blue Cobra’s or some other organization kicked in his door? Because others want to know how he found a demon in the first place and rather or not said demon is what we think it is. What sort of plot is this assassination plot a cover for? That sort of thing. Like this thing, we suspect a lot, and know little, and want to know more. So that sometimes means creating a little controlled chaos or baiting someone’s hand. Soooo many plots and schemes in this ancient city of ours.” She reached up and plucked a ruby from her choker and set it on the table between the two of them. An educated guess puts the value at ten platinum crowns (100 gold). “Before I forget, your payment. I hope you don’t mind but –“
Jacob had already swiped the gem from off the table, like a greedy magpie blinded and now flying too fast at something shiny, no matter the danger. The candle between them was flickering in a very lively manner, because of the air movement, or perhaps a far more occult reason.
As Holden was (eyeing/handling) the gem Bilina smiled as she sipped her wine. “It’s nothing like sticking a knife into someone’s back, Jacob. No, what I’m wanting is someone to slip that object” – her eyes flicked towards the pouch and the vial it contained – “into the belongings of a particular floob. It’d be worth another gem like that.”
Jacob answered, far too distractedly "Agreed, there is a huge degree of difference in between pouring the vials contents into someone’s' nightcap and slipping it into a pocket to get an implication." Holden disappeared the gem into his leathers, like a street magician. "My father always said that I talked too much. Yeah. Daddy issues." Jacob was joking, but his eyes really weren't. "Let's be a bad boy, maybe something good comes out of it." He grinned at his conversation partner, this time genuinely. "What pocket, and is there a time frame?" Holden also swiped the pouch containing the wooden vial. He accepted Bilinas' new offer, the rest of that afternoon was history.
“Oh, you are unquestionably a bad boy,” she teased. “Sometime in the next day or so will do. It’ll probably take you some time to track this one down since he’s on the move a lot.” Bilina proceeded to describe a tall, muscular Half-Orc. “He’s a bounty hunter, or so he says.”
Holden kept tracing and retracing the rim of his empty wineglass with his annular finger "Aren't they all tall and muscular? Your victims, Bilina. Do I have to be jealous of this one? What could a lowly Half-Orc possibly have done to deserve such attention from you?" — Or a lowly apartment rat such as me, for instance, he added, but exclusively in thinking. That fresh scar must've been really working out for him in ways he could possibly not have imagined. If only he'd known before, he would've jumped into a wood-chipper.
Bilina waves it off absently. “Dose it matters why?” Tossing down the last of her wine the raven-haired beauty stands and gives herself a stretch. Her eyes half hidden behind her long eyelashes she grins, the tip of her tongue touching briefly against her upper lip. “Shall we go somewhere and see just how much of a bad boy you are, or you eager to chase down that next gem?”
Jacob grinned a somewhat sheepish grin as he extended his hand "The stage music isn't supposed to start playing until sundown." the implication of whatever they were going to be doing being very loud gave space to a rather wolfish smile on both of their faces.
Offering her arm Bilina’s laugh is both wicked and innocent sounding. “Oh, I’m sure Stax won’t mind, it is an Inn after all,” she teased as she stirred him towards the stairs.
And the music upstairs started. Later, well into the twilight hours, also the music downstairs joined with the unceasing crescendo and staccato.
Livvi looks at Lilita, holding her by the shoulders and staring deep into her eyes. "Lilita, snap out of it. That 'man' was a vampire, and you were enthralled by him. Don't worry, you are safe - for now. Come, let's get you inside and away from these staring eyes."
Lilita stares back into Livvi's eyes, "I don't feel enthralled m' lady nor was I in any danger. Thank you though for your concern."
Without letting her go, Livvi faces the knight. "Good sir, thank you for your timely appearance. As you can see, Tarantis faces a new threat, one more sinister and pressing than any other! Direct your men as you wish, then join the Grey Lady and me in The Whispering Mane and I will tell you everything." And without waiting for his acknowledgement, much less his permission, Livvi walked towards the Inn with Lilita in tow.
Lilita turns and looks at Livvi, "m' lady... with all due respect my name is Lilita, not the Grey Lady." Looking up at the knight, Lilita respectfully curtsies, "good evening m' lord."
“Miss – “The knight’s protest gone ignored caused the man to swear under his breath. Around him chaos reigned. They heard him call over a senior man-at-arms and issue a series of orders. Restore order, gather up everyone for questioning, and have someone up on the roof do a thorough search. He also dispatched a squad to see if they could pick up the trail of the dark stranger, unlikely as that might be.
Livvi commandeers a private room downstairs, not willing to let others into her private rooms upstairs. She orders a pot of strong tea and three cups, then waits for the knight and his inevitable questions. "Lilita, how did you end up with that monster? When did he enchant you? How did you get on the roof? Are you still under his spell?"
Lilita looks about the lovely room Livvi has brought her to with interest, "this is a very nice place you have here m' lady you are most fortunate in your circumstances but to answer your question the noble gentleman came to my master's shop right after you left. And, no, he did not enchant me, at least I do not feel enchanted, do I seem enchanted to you? The noble gentleman invited me to accompany him and I accepted his invitation. He brought me to the roof to look upon your room and you inside. He is very taken with you and knows you have been making inquiries and asking questions about him and I think he is none too happy about it. Perhaps you should consider putting a stop to your inquiries about him as I am greatly concerned about your safety though I also get the impression is very much attracted to your great flawless beauty but then what man isn't? Still, if I were you, I would be careful, your beauty alone may not stay his hand if you continue on such a path."
Livvi looked at her for a moment.
Lilita shakes her head as she remains totally calm, cool and collected not at all afraid or anxious, "no, m' lady, as I said before when you asked earlier, I am not under any magical influence. Well, not since earlier today but that your magic, not his. But do not worry, I am not angry or cross with you m' lady, I know you were intent on helping me. I appreciate that I really do, thank you m' lady for your kindness but you need not be concerned for me or my safety, the noble gentleman would not have done me any harm... in any event."
"Look - stay here and answer the Blackheart's questions. I have something I have to do. Stay away from the monster - he means nothing good for you!" With that, Livvi sighs and wraps a linen shawl around her torso, hiding her bareness and body paint then, after a careful glance, walked out of the room, leaving Lilita alone, but not for long. The clink of metal proceeded the knight’s arrival. He held his helmet under one arm, revealing a middle-aged man with dark hair and a short-trimmed beard.
“Where’s the elf maid?”
Lilita looked up the knight more than a little frightened of him... fear showing on her innocent young face... her eyes downcast, her voice trembling is low, almost a whisper, "I am very sorry m' lord but I don't know? Mistress Livvi was here a moment ago and commanded me to remain without telling me where she was going or when she would return. I worry for her safety and fearful she went after... you know... him."
Lilita jumped in her chair in fright as the knight began to swear! Pulling her legs upward hunching forward in the chair as if to hold herself tightly... her arms wrapped around her legs!
“Where did the Night Shadow go?!”
Her eyes tearing up Lilita looks shyly up at the knight, "who is the night shadow? Do you mean my noble gentleman? I'm sorrrrry," she stammers in confusion and fear.
“Are you in league with…him? He was seen leaving the flat of a wanted enemy of The Lion.”
Lilita whimpers, tears begin to fall down her cheeks, "I don't know... I think he might be my father or was, like in my dreams. I wish, I hope! I don't know. I only met him the other night in the clothing shop. Mistress Livvi was there too, she tried on the most exquisite gown that I have ever seen asking his opinion about it. She is so beautiful and exotic, isn't she? Not plain and common like me. Mistress Livvi is like a fey goddess from the fairy stories. So beautiful, so strong and confident, able to bend men to her will as if by magic but you know that, she ordered you about like a Grand Princess. And he was kind to me, the noble gentleman... he offered to buy a pair of beautiful slippers for me. I sorry m' lord but I know nothing about enemies to his Majesty the Lion."
The man hesitated, then added, “…and that – that other fellow? The one screaming and threatening everyone? Are you with him?”
Lilita tilts her head to the side a little confused, "other fellow, screaming and threatening..." She repeats! "Oh, forgive me m' lord that is my noble gentleman. The other one, the one fleeing from the soldiers, is that who you call the night shadow? I never before saw him before m' lord until he ran up to us as if to take me away from my noble gentleman, but I refused his hand, he was a stranger to me and I knew deep down that my noble gentleman did not intend me any harm. I felt safe in his arms. The man who was fleeing, I don't know him, perhaps Mistress Livvi is acquainted with that fellow, I really could not say one way or another as I don't really know her all that well, but she has been very kind to me. No one is ever kind to a poor girl like me. As I said, I only first encountered her at the clothing shop recently."
The knight slammed his helmet down onto the tabletop before leaning over Lilita, his slate colored eyes boring in on her. “The Night Shadow seemed to know you and…your…male friend” – the man seemed unwilling to admit that her father was what he was.
Lilita's entire body shook... frightened out of her wits, intimidated to the point of utter confusion, "I am sorry m' lord but I do not ever recall meeting him before, perhaps you are right, perhaps he knew my noble gentleman or Mistress Livvi, I cannot answer for either of them m' lord. I know not. If I did, I would tell you, I swear by the goddess."
Standing straight, the knight crossed over to the door and kicked it shut. “I’m going to get some answers here, or they’ll be hell to pay, miss. Consorting with enemy agents of The Lion; possibly even” – once again the man seemed unwilling to speak the word – “whatever that was,” he muttered. “Had to be a magic trick, that last part. Wizards like that sort of bunk.”
The violent kick and the sound of the door slamming shut cause Lilita to scream in fear... she panics, "please m' lord do not hurt me. If it please you m' lord then yes, I am guilty and confess to everything you wish. Tell me what to say and I will say it! Are the dungeons cold this time of year or will you march me straight to the executioner to take my head then?" She whimpers and cries, "I thought my noble gentleman would save me when I jumped. I thought he would take me away and tell me about my mother but he left me... Mistress Livvi left me too... so I am ready m' lord, take me to the dungeons to be tortured and killed, it is what I deserve don't you think?"
“Like as not it’ll be the stocks in traitor’s square,” snarled the knight as he slowly circled Lilita’s chair. His hard eyes boring down on her with open contempt. “Lies, deceivers, pulling japes at the Lion’s expense. Let The Lion’s subjects punish you as you deserve.” The man stopped behind her, out of view. “Goddess? That Fey ***** is some goddess? Just what sort of conspiracy are you part of, miss? Well, I can tell you, The Lion’s on to your game, whatever it is, and it will not be allowed to bear fruit. The Night Shadow, this father of yours, and the Fey goddess, all of you.”
Lilita just blinks in fear and confusion, the only sound she makes is a low whimper...
“Lie’s won’t save you, girl.” The knight’s armored fist hammered the tabletop next to Lilita. “What’s the connection with this Garse the Gaffer fellow? We know through reliable sources that he masterminded this whole disgraceful plot though he’s crying he was duped, that he doesn’t know anything other than a young woman paid him handsomely for his services. Are you her?! Tell me true!”
Lilita jumps again her chair as the knight's fist hammers the table. She struggles to think for a moment and asks politely, "I don't know m' lord is he the old man that sells apples in my neighborhood. We just call him the Gaffer; I didn't know his name was Garse, but it suits him, I think. Yes, I paid him for his apples of course but I would not call it paying him handsomely, I am a good girl but a poor one, I pay my debts and sometimes use my skills to ease his aches and pains, so he gives me a discount. Is that what you mean? Then yes I guess I am."
After saying that Lilita suddenly has a revelation or rather a beginning of an idea and a plan. She looks up at the knight drying her tears, "m' lord thank you for taking the time to speak to me. Our conversation has been most enlightening. You have been most helpful and a font of information, but I fear I just remembered a prior engagement. So, if you don't mind, I must ask your intentions. I mean, will you be letting me go now... with just a firm warning or sending off to the stocks in traitor’s square? Either is fine for me... really though, I can work with either one of those but could we please hurry things along now so I can toddle on off to my appointment or how about this. Say you let me go now and I promise to turn myself into someone in charge of the stocks in traitor’s square, say first thing in the morning? Is that agreeable m' lord?"
“Apples?! He’s a baker’s assistant! You – wait, what? Intentions,” he asks incredulously. “You bloody well know my intentions. I mean to get to the bottom of all this.” Beginning to pace the room the knight clanked with each step. “First I’m ordered to take a troop and apprehend a dangerous assassin and his confederates, only one escapes and leads us to you and that… that madman friend of yours, then some fey goddess – a overpriced whore more likely, jumps in and both of you use magic to keep from smashing your heads on the pavers. I – “
Lilita, as the knight gets more worked up and distracted... pacing about, sees her chance and attempts to cast a Sleep spell on him ((using a second level spell slot affecting 7d8 HP and uses a Font of Magic Sorcerer Spell Point Metamagic Extended Spell: When you cast a spell that has a duration of 1 minute or longer, you can spend 1 sorcery point to double its duration, to a maximum duration of 24 hours.) Result = 39 HP total, Knight has 36)
The man sways slightly than sinks to his knees in a rattle of metal and slumps against the wall beside the door and starts to snore.
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Lilita's story continues...
As was usual for the nightly mists they began to flow back out to sea, unlike other places where fog and mists were known to loiter, even after the sun began to climb into the sky. In Tarantis the fogs and mists acted almost like the sea, ebbing with some unknown tide. As the predawn turned everything a murky gray, still providing some cover for the trio as they made their way through the narrow, winding streets. Lilita’s knowledge of the quarter served them well as she was able to avoid the busier streets and back alleys known to be haunted by thugs and cutpurses. The few that they met were quick to draw back after second glances. True to the young woman’s prediction few were willing to chance plague or leprosy.
In the distance came the sound of the many bells of the Temple Quarter, sounding out Dawnfest (6am), both a warning to those who needed to be at their daily labors, and a summons for the more devote. It was also the hour that the temples opened their soup kitchens to the poor, as did scores of street venders and street side eateries. The smells of baking bread, cooking gruel and other morning victuals toyed with their nostrils.
“Gods but I could eat,” muttered Hadara as he leaned against the Half-Orc. Mordecai could tell that the herbs Lilita had given the fugitive was wearing off as Hadara’s body was weak and trembled occasionally.
Lilita moves close to Hadara and whispers, "I know, me too..." she purrs, "you cannot imagine how long it has been since I've eaten freshly baked... well anything, but hush... there is danger for us and I promise you, just be silent and once we get you to where you need to be there will be food aplenty for you... all you need to do is be silent for just a little while longer."
Mordecai whispers to Hadara, "That was unexpected. Well, here, take a sip of this..."
The Half-orc pulls out a flask and puts it to Hadara’s lips and knocks back a sip for the man, commenting, "That should wake you up a bit."
The fugitive hisses slightly and winces. “Good gods man, what is it, turpentine? Still, it’s helping to clear my head.”
Coming to the end of an alley situated between a trade office and a warehouse, Lilita became conscious of the powerful Half-Orc as he leaned close in order to look around the corner at a view of Seaward Gate, the portal linking the two quarters. From where she stood, he could see two guardsmen lounging inside the arch. Beside them the door leading to a narrow stair that accessed the room above the gate.
Mordecai grunts before letting out a stiff cough. He nods towards the gatehouse, saying, "That'll likely be the toughest sell for us this morning. They'd likely be wary of sick individuals heading towards the docks, but your leper colony story might just work. The patrol seems to be out - we should y move now before one of their knights or mages joins them. They've keener eyes and more skeptical minds than the average patrolman."
Lilita looks up at Mordecai while they are still at a safe distance from the gate and unobserved, "you must trust me now, I think it best you remain here at a safe distance and let me speak to them alone first... to present myself and obtain clearance for us to pass. Hopefully, with you two lepers they will clear a path for us and keep their distance and I will come part of the way back and motion you forward to join me if it is safe. Then I will lead you through the gate and we will proceed as planned."
"That's fine," replies Mordecai, "but you need to be quick about it. I don't think we can wait for your signal, that'll be too suspicious anyways, but we can walk slower than you. It'll give you enough time to make your plea and it'll fit your story that we're sick and thus slow to keep up."
Lilita pauses and takes in a breath and continues, "But if something is amiss then I will feign a fainting spell and when you see me fall to the ground or start to fall and I am caught in the arms of a guard... then you will know there is danger for you both and take it as a signal for you both to go! You will slip always and take Hadara... try to find another way to your ship and leave me to deal with things on my own, in my own way. I promise I will be alright. So now promise me now that should this happen that you will leave me. Promise me and swear on your honor or I will go no further!"
Mordecai squints his eyes a bit before simply saying, "Okay."
Once Mordecai promises Lilita, satisfied she will continue on walking at a normal pace in the open for them to see her coming and once there present herself to a guard, "please noble Ser, if I may speak regarding a matter of public health and safety to you or your watch commander? I am a Guild Healer," she says presenting the official Healing Guild Sigil for his inspection, "excuse me for inconveniencing you but this is a delicate matter of some importance which the Guild wishes kept in strict confidence to avoid causing undue alarm to the general public as to not cause a panic. Two unfortunate souls have been identified as unclean, as poxed lepers and potential plague spawn. I have been instructed to escort them out of the city to transportation that has already been arranged and waiting for them by my superiors and his eminence, Lord Maigrinstaff who has instructed there be no paper trail or gossip regarding this very delicate matter! Do so at your own peril. I am frightened out of my wits enough have been assigned this mission. Should a single drop of their blood or urine make contact with human flesh, I shudder to think of the resulting death and chaos that will result with the plagues spreading like wildfire through the entire city. Thus, I ask permission to bring them forward to pass through the gate unhindered and unmolested. If you must, you must but I advise you that if you or anyone comes within 10' of them to afterward bath yourselves... scrub yourself as if your life depended on it, which it will and to burn every stitch of clothing and to wrap all other items up that cannot be burned and put it all into a weighted strongbox and toss the box into the nearest river. Should any one of your men come into direct contact... touch them or be touched by them, then sadly there is nothing to be done and your man/men must accompany me to transport as well to the plague colony never to return! Do you understand? Likewise, if you or your men even archers should for any reason shed their blood thinking killing them be a far easier solution then know this. Their blood and bodily fluids are every bit as dangerous as they are, more so if anything, much more dangerous in fact... if such is shed you must close and lock the gate until the Guild dispatches a cleanup crew and in all likelihood, all of you as well as the cleanup crew itself as a precaution will be sent to the plague colony never to return. Have I made the seriousness of this matter perfectly clear? Do you have questions for me? If you seek verification then, by all means, contact Lord Maigrinstaff, he will be sleeping but I am sure won't mind in the least at being awoken.... at this early hour. I imagine as a result you then be assigned to this detail beside me... so I hope you don't have a family, as such was my mistake and the reason I am here before you now." [Lilita Persuasion 3] [Guard’s response roll 49% = holds position]
The indifferent look that the older guard gives her could mean anything. That the man wasn’t buying into her story, or that, upon looking her over, doubted her claims of leprosy or plague, or perhaps, it was an old tale, one that the man had heard too many times to buy into easily. The older guard traded looks with his companion. Lilita glances back the way she came not seeing Mordecai and Hadara lurking somewhere in the shadows but is confident that they see her just fine!
Without warning, she begins to swoon and faints... falling to the ground or into arms of a watchful guard...[Lilita Performance 21 Fainting Spell] [Guard’s response roll 21% = retreats] (That being the pre-arranged signal for Mordecai to go... and leave her behind!)
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Mordecai's story line...
As was usual for the nightly mists they began to flow back out to sea, unlike other places where fog and mists were known to loiter, even after the sun began to climb into the sky. In Tarantis the fogs and mists acted almost like the sea, ebbing with some unknown tide. As the predawn turned everything a murky gray, still providing some cover for the trio as they made their way through the narrow, winding streets. Lilita’s knowledge of the quarter served them well as she was able to avoid the busier streets and back alleys known to be haunted by thugs and cutpurses. The few that they met were quick to draw back after second glances. True to the young woman’s prediction few were willing to chance plague or leprosy.
In the distance came the sound of the many bells of the Temple Quarter, sounding out Dawnfest (6am), both a warning to those who needed to be at their daily labors, and a summons for the more devote. It was also the hour that the temples opened their soup kitchens to the poor, as did scores of street venders and street side eateries. The smells of baking bread, cooking gruel and other morning victuals toyed with their nostrils.
“Gods but I could eat,” muttered Hadara as he leaned against the Half-Orc. Mordecai could tell that the herbs Lilita had given the fugitive was wearing off as Hadara’s body was weak and trembled occasionally.
Lilita moves close to Hadara and whispers, "I know, me too..." she purrs, "you cannot imagine how long it has been since I've eaten freshly baked... well anything, but hush... there is danger for us and I promise you, just be silent and once we get you to where you need to be there will be food aplenty for you... all you need to do is be silent for just a little while longer."
Mordecai whispers to Hadara, "That was unexpected. Well, here, take a sip of this..."
Mordecai puts his flask to Hadara’s lips and knocks back a sip for the man, commenting, "That should wake you up a bit." (GM Die roll for Hadara = 5)
The fugitive hisses slightly and winces. “Good gods man, what is it, turpentine? Still, it’s helping to clear my head.”
Coming to the end of an alley situated between a trade office and a warehouse, Mordecai was able to get a view of Seaward Gate, the portal linking the two quarters. From where he stood, he could see two guardsmen lounging inside the arch. Beside them the door leading to a narrow stair that accessed the room above the gate. From experience, Mordecai knew that the average patrol was between three and six guardsmen. Larger patrols would be twice that and might include a knight or mage or both.
The healer moved closer, nearly pressing herself against him in order to peer at the gatehouse.
Mordecai grunts a little uncomfortably before letting out a stiff cough. He nods towards the gatehouse, saying, "That'll likely be the toughest sell for us this morning. They'd likely be wary of sick individuals heading towards the docks, but your leper colony story might just work. The patrol seems to be out - we should y move now before one of their knights or mages joins them. They've keener eyes and more skeptical minds than the average patrolman."
Lilita looks up at Mordecai while they are still at a safe distance from the gate and unobserved, "you must trust me now, I think it best you remain here at a safe distance and let me speak to them alone first... to present myself and obtain clearance for us to pass. Hopefully, with you two lepers they will clear a path for us and keep their distance and I will come part of the way back and motion you forward to join me if it is safe. Then I will lead you through the gate and we will proceed as planned."
"That's fine," replies Mordecai, "but you need to be quick about it. I don't think we can wait for your signal, that'll be too suspicious anyways, but we can walk slower than you. It'll give you enough time to make your plea and it'll fit your story that we're sick and thus slow to keep up."
Lilita pauses and takes in a breath and continues, "But if something is amiss then I will feign a fainting spell and when you see me fall to the ground or start to fall and I am caught in the arms of a guard... then you will know there is danger for you both and take it as a signal for you both to go! You will slip always and take Hadara... try to find another way to your ship and leave me to deal with things on my own, in my own way. I promise I will be alright. So now promise me now that should this happen that you will leave me. Promise me and swear on your honor or I will go no further!"
Mordecai squints his eyes a bit before simply saying, "Okay."
Once Mordecai promises Lilita continued walking at a normal pace in the open so the guards could to see her coming. As he watched the young healer bowed slightly to the guards and began talking. At one point several more exited the guardhouse and one in sergeant stars frowned, even as the rest of the guards took a visible step back from the girl. Lilita’s head bobbed slowly, gesturing vaguely at a spot further down the street, drawing all eyes with it. Even the sergeant seemed hesitant and took a step back, eyeing the healer as if she might have been a devil incarnate.
As they walk towards the guard house, from the direction Lilita pointed to, and see the sergeant's reaction, Mordecai, still assisting Hadara mutters, "Seems like the girl convinced them that we're the plague itself. Well, seems like your idea to find this girl was the right one. Hopefully, soon, you'll be on a ship home. Don't forget to act like you're dying."
“Still might happen if one of those pox-ridden guard’s mistake one of us,” muttered Hadara as he leaned on Half-Orc.
Mordecai stifles a chuckle.
As he entered the street several shouts by the guardhouse grabs his attention. Without warning, she begins to swoon and faints. (That being the pre-arranged signal for Mordecai to go... and leave her behind!)
“That’s her signal, Mord, we gotta go, now!”
Even as Hadara was talking Mordecai saw the younger guard lunged to catch Lilita just as the older one’s jaw drops open.
“Don’t touch her, she’s infected!” the older guard shouted.
“Crap!” shouts the younger guard as he jerks his arms away and stumbles past, tripping over the now prone healer.
Mordecai’s eyes open wide. "Well," he says, "that was the easy way in. Looks like we're regulated to the muck - hope you don't mind getting your boots dirty. I don't like leaving your savior to her own devices, but I agreed to her terms. The sewers between this district and the docks are connected. Figured that one out while chasing a bounty down through there. It won't smell good, but the water is only ankle deep - so your wound won't get infected and, normally, it's pretty quiet. Just rats to keep one company down there. I made it a point to learn the tunnels in and out of the docks... In case I have to add smuggling to my resume given bounties typically don't pay that well."
Hadara frowns but nods. “The sewer’s it is.”
He looks over at the commotion at the guard house and says, "I'll make sure she gets what due to her for all the help she's provided.". He then points down another stretch of alleys, "Let's go - there's an entrance not far from here."
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Cadrian's story continues...
It didn’t take long to see her acting as a crier, he'll shrug, take care of some petty shopping for some spell components, and go to the Witch's Brew, and will accept Nephele's guidance to wait for Livvi, anticipating the meeting, ordering some fine herbal tea and a plate of sandwiches (some analog to cucumber sandwiches, light and refreshing for someone who's been just shouting out news).
The Witch's Brew was located not far from the main entrance to the government quarter, near the palace. A moderate to upscale tea house, the ‘Brew’ as many of the bureaucrats that patronized the place liked to call it, was clean with open air walls and patio. He had barely set foot into the establishment when a woman in vivid green hair (obviously dyed) greeted by introducing herself as Nephele. At the mention of Livvi, she smiles and leads Cadrian to one of the better tables, the one’s with a view of the crossroad and entrance to the palace.
Livvi waves back to Nephele than walks over to the green-haired girl and says a few things that causes the server to beam and then giggle. Both girls’ glance towards Cadrian. Livvi then makes a fake growl ("rawr!") and scratches at the air, like a toddler imitating a cat, then winks and walks over to join him.
Nephele giggles again and nods before hurrying into the kitchen.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Lord Cadrian. I trust this place is satisfactory? I've asked Nephele to bring us something to drink. So, notes and sharing. It seems we are both looking into the disappearance of Pithini, the daughter of Karigaon the silversmith, and her odd return in a state of unhealth. Here is what I know:
The young man nodded silently, sipping at his tea idly while absorbed in the conversation.
Pithini was with her friends a five-day past, visiting various shops and merchants dealing in luxuries. The young women were accompanied by a chaperone and several well-armed escorts. The young ladies had left Rail's Shop on Iltutmish Lane, in the Sage Quarter. Her companions insist that she was with them, and then she wasn’t. They told Karigaon, but by the time he was able to enlist aide from some friends and associates to locate her, it had grown dark and the fog had set in. He found her wondering the back streets near the docks in a daze. She barely recognized her name or her father. The silversmith's family leech couldn’t deign the cause of Pithini's strange malady and suggested The Black Rose House of Healing because it is said that no one understands exotic illnesses better than Lord Maigrinstaff.
Karigaon is one of the wealthiest merchants in the city these days. He has a shop in the Noble Quarter and his townhouse is one of the largest in the Merchant Quarter. There has been a string of attacks on merchants, and abductions of young women. This case, however, is the first one I am investigating.
Now, I was in Avgrat's shop last night, trying on gowns, when I spotted a tall, aristocratic man of intermediate age dressed like a noble and oozing charm talking to a plainly dressed young woman. Although he looked like an ordinary noble, his stare at the young woman almost obscene. There was…something else there, some sort of hunger. That man’s eyes sent a cold shiver down my spine. His eyes seemed almost...soulless. Well, to cut off the story, the young woman made a mad but stealthy Dash barefoot out of the shop leaving her own old and well-worn shoes behind. When the nobleman noticed the young woman’s exit, his expression flared into anger. Without another look, at me or anyone else, the man turned and stalked out. It was a distinctively predatory move. I tried to follow them and warn the girl but lost them in the city's winding streets and night fog. Perhaps it was for the best - I'm not sure I would want to meet up with him in a dark alley by myself!
Anyways, I have no evidence that this man was involved in the other disappearances, but it sure does seem plausible that I interrupted the next potential abduction. Now it's your turn." Livvi takes a long drink from her mug, watching Lord Cadrian du Flynn closely.
Cadrian nodded. "Idle thought." He drew out the parchment he had sketched the image of Lord Maigrinstaff. "Any resemblance to the predator?"
Livvi studied the drawing Cadrian produced for a few moments before replying, "The face reminds me of a figure I briefly glimpsed in a third-floor window of the Black Rose three days ago, but it is not the noble and his bright blue turban that I saw last night in Avgrat’s. Shame - but I suppose that would be too easy!"
He notes her response and continues. “My entry point into this sordid little story was in passing the Black Rose Healing House last night. Last I walked past the alley behind the building, I spied a young woman in a state of extreme undress standing in a daze as though ensorcelled at the rear door. I approached, fearing some foul deeds might be in motion. As I approached, the door opened slowly as if by an unseen hand or magic, and she mechanically moved to enter. I made my presence known at this time and was met by a woman identifying herself as Melinia, who I believe to be of the Maigrinstaff house now. I was offended by her lack of concern with the welfare of the woman, who I recognized in the light as Perini, who I have known of for some time. My family is a patron of her father's excellent craft, and we had been introduced, you see.
"When I demanded an answer of her, regarding the state of Perini, she averred, assuring me the guard who was responsible would be punished and closing the door in my face. Nonplussed. I then paid a visit to her father to learn the truth of the situation. He told me much of the same information that you did regarding the circumstances of the tailors. The only variance was that he stated the matron believed that she vanished from within the store itself, rather than departing in the company of her party."
Livvi gasps in shock when Cadrian mentions that Pithini was outside and undressed. "Karigaon was quite upset when he demanded to see his daughter at the Black Rose. He also spoke with Melinia, who was just as unhelpful. It sounds like perhaps she is still not herself - but like you I am beginning to wonder if she is getting any better in the Rose."
"This morning I went to the Hall of Records, as something about the circumstances of the Black Rose rankles, and I researched the history of the Maigrinstaffs, the owner of the House. The last few pages detailing the birth and marriages of the latest generation were missing, but I sketched that villain," he gestured to the sketch, "of the first Lord Basha, hoping familial similarity could prove useful. From the attendant Sage, I discovered that the House has more than just the scandal of whispers regarding their House, but an actual summoned demon from a scion of their House that got out of control actually happened. There is something entirely worrisome about the deeds coming out of that place."
"When I first met you at Avgrat's, I was intent on researching if Perini could have been smuggled out without being observed. There is too much idle magical residue in there that i was not able to tell if something like dust of disappearance had been used. What I did detect, and you may well have noted, is that Master Avgrat has had an enchantment placed over his mind. He wrestles against it somewhat, but I suspect someone has been suborning his store as a stage for kidnapping. Whether the purpose is to ransom the abductees or something far worse, I have yet to determine. Bear in mind that I have only suspicions, but I am frankly tired of being warned away from the affairs of Lord Maigrinstaff. I think that aristocrat you nearly net has some answers to questions worth asking, but I am not sure how best to proceed. I merely know time is of the essence."
He smiled grimly, his eyes openly inviting Livvi to comment.
Yes, I had a similar concern. Especially that the predator may still be hunting the Grey Lady - the one I saw last night in the clothing shop. I still have her shoes, in fact, and I want to return them to her and warn her to be wary, but how do you find a single girl in Tarantis? Being barefoot and wearing a plain grey dress doesn't reduce the possibilities much! I remember a slight herbal scent, but I cannot be sure if that came from her or someone else." Livvi pauses and sips her drink, a thoughtful look on her face.
"I have read about hunts for dangerous animals but have never been on one. There are different techniques used for each animal, but they are all very different than hunting game animals. Like deer - you find a good hiding place and you wait for them. But for a boar, you send hounds or men with cymbals and drums out to drive the creature out of its hiding place and put it on the run, then you confront it with many weapons that will keep you out of range of its natural weapons, like claws or tusks. So - do we observe the possible hunting ground of this beast and the go on the offensive? Or do we attempt to retrieve the silversmith's daughter from the Black Rose and find out what happened to her first? I also have been warned about the Maigrinstaffs and to keep away from them. But like you, I don't like being told what to do or not do."
Cadrian steepled his fingers together. "An offensive thrust would be messy. The legal right would be against us if we did anything aggressive toward the Black Rose itself. Any entry would involve dealing with guards, possibly over naked steel. The status and reputation of the Maigrinstaffs afford them some protections that would be difficult to bypass. I'd feel better about baiting this character, but what is a common link between the victims can we ascertain? Young females, certainly, and possibly of a singular class, specifically the wealthy merchanting class, I suspect. I was personally going to go to the other healing houses to ask for any other details I can glean regarding the Maigrinstaffs and find out about the other people who have disappeared. If you can recommend a smaller house with a respected healer, I hope to learn more. I am no diviner, though, and I can tell you nothing of the original owner of those shoes. Shall we go do some investigative work, or am I taking you from anything important?"
"I am free until this evening, when I must perform my duties again here in the market. Working together sounds like a solid plan - one might notice something the other does not. I also agree with your thought about inquiring at the smaller houses of healing, although I am not as familiar with these. Wait - I have an idea of where to start..." Livvi smiles and turns in her seat, looking for the serving girl, Nephele. Once they make eye contact, Livvi waves her over.
The green haired server arrives with a curious smile. “How can I serve you, Livvi?”
"Nephele, I'd like to introduce you to my new colleague, Lord Cadrian du Flynn. Lord Cadrian, this lovely young lady is Nephele, and I think she can help point us in a sound direction. Effie," she says, using her nickname for the girl, "we are looking for some healing houses in or near the Merchant's, Tradesman's and Laborer's quarters. Besides the Black Rose, of course. What would you recommend, and where are these places?"
Nephele’s face reddens and the server curtseys so deeply and so fast she nearly bumps her knee against the floor. “M’lord!”
"Pray pay no mind, my dear. We may leave off the honorifics when I am here, if you please." Cadrian favored her with an indulgent smile.
Clearly nervous Nephele’s hands twists as she sways slightly, head bobbing nonstop. “Oh, well, there’s Collander’s Care in the Tradesman’s quarters. He’s kinda expensive but is good, or so many say. For me, I visit Pencelot’s Herbery, which is over in the Laborer’s Quarter. He’s some sort of wood witch or something, not sure, but he’s always willing to take trade if you’re short on coin, plus his apprentice, a young, silver haired girl is some sort of prodigy they say. Lilita’s almost a mouse, she’s so quiet and even dresses in gray but she has the touch, I can swear to it. When I fell last spring and broke my wrist she used the touch to heal it neatly.” As if to attest to this Nephele wiggled her left wrist. “I didn’t have much saved but when I offered her what I had she refused any of it.”
Cadrian shot a quick look at Livvi. "How many silver-haired lasses are in this city? And one who dresses in gray and refuses money as well? I have a fondness for herbcraft, as I find it dovetails nicely into my studies...my dear Livvi, do you know the way to this Pencelot's?" He drains his tea swiftly, flips a gold coin onto the table in payment and rises, scooping up his staff and backpack to follow her. He bows courteously to Nephele, smoothly takes her hand and kisses the back of it in genteel fashion. "I am certain you shall see me again, my beauty. I hope to see you the next time I pay this place custom."
Livvi's eyebrows arch as Cadrian kisses Nephele's hand. She then grins at the green-haired server before saying, "I do not know of these places, but perhaps Nephele can give us directions. By the way, when do you get off work tonight? Perhaps m'lord can stop by later tonight to 'fill you in.'"
This causes Nephele to blush wildly. She stammers out directions to Pencelot’s healing shop before hurrying away.
He chuckles to Livvi when they leave. “If there is one thing, I enjoy perhaps more than any other. regarding the accident of my birth, is the propensity to make memorable departures."
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Livvi's story continues...
Arriving at the Witch’s Brew a few minutes later than promised, Livvi rushes in to see that the nobleman had one of the best tables in the establishment. From the bar Nephele spotted her and waved over the heads of the other seated customers.
Livvi waves back to Nephele - smiling at how she had befriended the lady in only two days. Seeing that Cadrian was looking out at the street, Livvi moves over to the green-haired girl and says, "Hi Effi! I see you've met my new friend, Lord Manly. We have some business to go over, so keep the iced kafe flowing and I'll introduce you after we're done. Don't give me that look - I just met him and there is nothing going on between us!" Livvi makes a fake growl ("rawr!") and scratches at the air, like a toddler imitating a cat, then winks and walks over to join Cadrian.
Nephele giggles and nods then hurries after the iced kafe.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Lord Cadrian. I trust this place is satisfactory? I've asked Nephele to bring us something to drink. So, notes and sharing. It seems we are both looking into the disappearance of Pithini, the daughter of Karigaon the silversmith, and her odd return in a state of unhealth. Here is what I know:
The young man nodded silently, sipping at his tea idly while absorbed in the conversation.
Pithini was with her friends a five-day past, visiting various shops and merchants dealing in luxuries. The young women were accompanied by a chaperone and several well-armed escorts. The young ladies had left Rail's Shop on Iltutmish Lane, in the Sage Quarter. Her companions insist that she was with them, and then she wasn’t. They told Karigaon, but by the time he was able to enlist aide from some friends and associates to locate her, it had grown dark and the fog had set in. He found her wondering the back streets near the docks in a daze. She barely recognized her name or her father. The silversmith's family leech couldn’t deign the cause of Pithini's strange malady and suggested The Black Rose House of Healing because it is said that no one understands exotic illnesses better than Lord Maigrinstaff.
Karigaon is one of the wealthiest merchants in the city these days. He has a shop in the Noble Quarter and his townhouse is one of the largest in the Merchant Quarter. There has been a string of attacks on merchants, and abductions of young women. This case, however, is the first one I am investigating.
Now, I was in Avgrat's shop last night, trying on gowns, when I spotted a tall, aristocratic man of intermediate age dressed like a noble and oozing charm talking to a plainly dressed young woman. Although he looked like an ordinary noble, his stare at the young woman almost obscene. There was…something else there, some sort of hunger. That man’s eyes sent a cold shiver down my spine. His eyes seemed almost...soulless. Well, to cut off the story, the young woman made a mad but stealthy Dash barefoot out of the shop leaving her own old and well-worn shoes behind. When the nobleman noticed the young woman’s exit, his expression flared into anger. Without another look, at me or anyone else, the man turned and stalked out. It was a distinctively predatory move. I tried to follow them and warn the girl but lost them in the city's winding streets and night fog. Perhaps it was for the best - I'm not sure I would want to meet up with him in a dark alley by myself!
Anyways, I have no evidence that this man was involved in the other disappearances, but it sure does seem plausible that I interrupted the next potential abduction. Now it's your turn." Livvi takes a long drink from her mug, watching Lord Cadrian du Flynn closely.
Cadrian nodded. "Idle thought." He drew out the parchment he had sketched the image of some noble; for a brief moment it reminds her of a figure she saw in a third-floor window of the Black Rose on her first day of pursuing her crier duties, but it looked nothing like the noblemonster and his bright blue turban.
"Any resemblance to the predator?"
Livvi studied the drawing Cadrian produced for a few moments before replying, "The face reminds me of a figure I briefly glimpsed in a third-floor window of the Black Rose three days ago, but it is not the noble and his bright blue turban that I saw last night in Avgrat’s. Shame - but I suppose that would be too easy!"
He makes a note on his parchment and continues. “My entry point into this sordid little story was in passing the Black Rose Healing House last night. Last I walked past the alley behind the building, I spied a young woman in a state of extreme undress standing in a daze as though ensorcelled at the rear door. I approached, fearing some foul deeds might be in motion. As I approached, the door opened slowly as if by an unseen hand or magic, and she mechanically moved to enter. I made my presence known at this time and was met by a woman identifying herself as Melinia, who I believe to be of the Maigrinstaff house now. I was offended by her lack of concern with the welfare of the woman, who I recognized in the light as Perini, who I have known of for some time. My family is a patron of her father's excellent craft, and we had been introduced, you see.
"When I demanded an answer of her, regarding the state of Perini, she averred, assuring me the guard who was responsible would be punished and closing the door in my face. Nonplussed. I then paid a visit to her father to learn the truth of the situation. He told me much of the same information that you did regarding the circumstances of the tailors. The only variance was that he stated the matron believed that she vanished from within the store itself, rather than departing in the company of her party."
Livvi gasps in shock when Cadrian mentions that Pithini was outside and undressed. "Karigaon was quite upset when he demanded to see his daughter at the Black Rose. He also spoke with Melinia, who was just as unhelpful. It sounds like perhaps she is still not herself - but like you I am beginning to wonder if she is getting any better in the Rose."
"This morning I went to the Hall of Records, as something about the circumstances of the Black Rose rankles, and I researched the history of the Maigrinstaffs, the owner of the House. The last few pages detailing the birth and marriages of the latest generation were missing, but I sketched that villain," he gestured to the sketch, "of the first Lord Basha, hoping familial similarity could prove useful. From the attendant Sage, I discovered that the House has more than just the scandal of whispers regarding their House, but an actual summoned demon from a scion of their House that got out of control actually happened. There is something entirely worrisome about the deeds coming out of that place."
"When I first met you at Avgrat's, I was intent on researching if Perini could have been smuggled out without being observed. There is too much idle magical residue in there that i was not able to tell if something like dust of disappearance had been used. What I did detect, and you may well have noted, is that Master Avgrat has had an enchantment placed over his mind. He wrestles against it somewhat, but I suspect someone has been suborning his store as a stage for kidnapping. Whether the purpose is to ransom the abductees or something far worse, I have yet to determine. Bear in mind that I have only suspicions, but I am frankly tired of being warned away from the affairs of Lord Maigrinstaff. I think that aristocrat you nearly net has some answers to questions worth asking, but I am not sure how best to proceed. I merely know time is of the essence."
He smiled grimly, his eyes openly inviting Livvi to comment.
"Yes, I had a similar concern. Especially that the predator may still be hunting the Grey Lady - the one I saw last night in the clothing shop. I still have her shoes, in fact, and I want to return them to her and warn her to be wary, but how do you find a single girl in Tarantis? Being barefoot and wearing a plain grey dress doesn't reduce the possibilities much! I remember a slight herbal scent, but I cannot be sure if that came from her or someone else." Livvi pauses and sips her drink, letting the new information settle in her brain and fill in the spots of her investigation.
"I have read about hunts for dangerous animals but have never been on one. There are different techniques used for each animal, but they are all very different than hunting game animals. Like deer - you find a good hiding place and you wait for them. But for a boar, you send hounds or men with cymbals and drums out to drive the creature out of its hiding place and put it on the run, then you confront it with many weapons that will keep you out of range of its natural weapons, like claws or tusks. So - do we observe the possible hunting ground of this beast and the go on the offensive? Or do we attempt to retrieve the silversmith's daughter from the Black Rose and find out what happened to her first? I also have been warned about the Maigrinstaffs and to keep away from them. But like you, I don't like being told what to do or not do."
Livvi wants to do something, but she also wants to talk privately with Bilina about what she had found out or learned, and about this Lord du Flynn. She also wanted to talk with her contact in the underworld to hear the buzz in the commons. But this young man seemed to be a potential ally, and she had not so many that she would turn a new one away.
Cadrian steepled his fingers together. "An offensive thrust would be messy. The legal right would be against us if we did anything aggressive toward the Black Rose itself. Any entry would involve dealing with guards, possibly over naked steel. The status and reputation of the Maigrinstaffs afford them some protections that would be difficult to bypass. I'd feel better about baiting this character, but what is a common link between the victims can we ascertain? Young females, certainly, and possibly of a singular class, specifically the wealthy merchanting class, I suspect. I was personally going to go to the other healing houses to ask for any other details I can glean regarding the Maigrinstaffs and find out about the other people who have disappeared. If you can recommend a smaller house with a respected healer, I hope to learn more. I am no diviner, though, and I can tell you nothing of the original owner of those shoes. Shall we go do some investigative work, or am I taking you from anything important?"
"I am free until this evening, when I must perform my duties again here in the market. Working together sounds like a solid plan - one might notice something the other does not. I also agree with your thought about inquiring at the smaller houses of healing, although I am not as familiar with these. Wait - I have an idea of where to start..." Livvi smiles and turns in her seat, looking for the serving girl, Nephele. She is easy to spot, even in the crowded café, with her pale skin and bright green hair! Once they make eye contact, Livvi waves her over.
The green haired server arrives with a curious smile. “How can I serve you, Livvi?”
"Nephele, I'd like to introduce you to my new colleague, Lord Cadrian du Flynn. Lord Cadrian, this lovely young lady is Nephele, and I think she can help point us in a sound direction. Effie," she says, using her nickname for the girl, "we are looking for some healing houses in or near the Merchant's, Tradesman's and Laborer's quarters. Besides the Black Rose, of course. What would you recommend, and where are these places?"
Nephele’s face reddens and the server curtseys so deeply and so fast she nearly bumps her knee against the floor. “M’lord!”
"Pray pay no mind, my dear. We may leave off the honorifics when I am here, if you please." Cadrian favored her with an indulgent smile.
Clearly nervous Nephele’s hands twists as she sways slightly, head bobbing nonstop. “Oh, well, there’s Collander’s Care in the Tradesman’s quarters. He’s kinda expensive but is good, or so many say. For me, I visit Pencelot’s Herbery, which is over in the Laborer’s Quarter. He’s some sort of wood witch or something, not sure, but he’s always willing to take trade if you’re short on coin, plus his apprentice, a young, silver haired girl is some sort of prodigy they say. Lilita’s almost a mouse, she’s so quiet and even dresses in gray but she has the touch, I can swear to it. When I fell last spring and broke my wrist she used the touch to heal it neatly.” As if to attest to this Nephele wiggled her left wrist. “I didn’t have much saved but when I offered her what I had she refused any of it.”
Cadrian shot a quick look at Livvi. "How many silver-haired lasses are in this city? And one who dresses in gray and refuses money as well? I have a fondness for herbcraft, as I find it dovetails nicely into my studies...my dear Livvi, do you know the way to this Pencelot's?" The wizard drains his tea swiftly, flips a gold coin onto the table in payment and rises, scooping up his staff and backpack to follow her. He bows courteously to Nephele, smoothly takes her hand and kisses the back of it in genteel fashion. "I am certain you shall see me again, my beauty. I hope to see you the next time I pay this place custom."
Livvi's eyebrows arch as the lord kisses Nephele's hand. Then grinning at her green-haired friend, she answers Cadrian, "I do not know of these places, but perhaps Nephele can give us directions. By the way, when do you get off work tonight? Perhaps m'lord can stop by later tonight to 'fill you in.'"
This causes Nephele to blush wildly. She stammers out directions to Pencelot’s healing shop before hurrying away.
He chuckles to Livvi when they leave. “If there is one thing, I enjoy perhaps more than any other. regarding the accident of my birth, is the propensity to make memorable departures."
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Mordecai's story continues...
As the pair make for the nearest sewer entrance Hadara growls in pain....
Mordecai whispers, "Let's try not to bring attention to ourselves while we're down here. Keep as quiet as you can. I've more booze for your pain if you want."
“I think I’ll pass, whatever that stuff was the Healer gave me has left my brain a bowl of mush.”
Mordecai responds, "Well, right now the only thing you need to concentrate on is keeping close. So, now that you can speak coherently, why don't you tell me what you are really doing here in the city - and if you have any friends with you. You did promise information, and, once you're on that ship, I figure that you'd be protected enough that you won't need to speak to me. What have you been up to these last few days? Eh?"
Hadara gave the half-orc a sideways look than smirked briefly, “Everything I said was true, from a certain point of view, my friend.” The man hesitated than added, “You’re a smart sort, Mordecai, leave these sorts of connivers to those whose pay is in platinum, not silver.”
Mordecai responds, "The only way to stop getting paid crowns and start earning platinum is by reaching for it. Since you seem to remember what was said, what do your employers hope to gain by poisoning the celebrations? Somehow, I get the feeling that you are less government spy and more private contractor."
“One cannot argue with that. Platinum is always better than Gold, usually anyway.” There was a long pause before Hadara said, “Private contractor is as good a term as any. No, I have no particular politics, that is true, nor do I answer to any King or Queen or their stooges, not long term anyway. It isn’t in my nature to answer directly, either. It’s not a good way of making retirement, so I’m not going to hand out the plan, my part of it, to you or anybody. Those who paid me also paid me to forget why they paid me. As to what they hope to gain? I suspect that they hope to gain personally from the chaos that changes always seem to generate. Or, perhaps, they are catspaws in a greater conspiracy. The raven-haired woman whose coin passed over my palm most certainly isn’t at the top of this conspiracy. She’s a middleman, I’d guess. There’s a history in this city, one of your Lion flipping his small counsel on a regular basis, all but one figure, or so I’ve observed. Perhaps this is part of such a plot, or, perhaps, one or more at the top are conspiring against the status que.”
While Mordecai hadn’t spent much of his developing years worrying about such things it was common knowledge in the wine sinks and taverns of Tarantis that Monach the Canny has been Chief Advisor to Altar the Lion since Altar succeeded his father, Bandar the Lion. The whole upper crust of the city was rife with scandals, payoffs, and in the dark conflicts with many a floob like Hadara playing their parts.
As the pair makes their way through the sewers Mordecai knows that unsavory floobs are not the only things that use the understreets, both as a means to move about the city but as lairs and hunting grounds. Several times they came across lone rats, some as big as small dogs. These sniffed the air in the pair’s direction than scurried away. There were larger rats, too, he knew, and packs of considerable size, roaming certain areas of the sewers.
The sewers also had other challenges. The unwary could find themselves falling into a water covered hole leading to lower channels that swept out into the bay with each tide. Side rooms that offered hiding places, abandoned junk and stolen goods that were no longer valuable to anyone, and the occasional poorly laid trap. Some set by the city works in a lame attempt at controlling the rat (and other vermin) populations, others meant as mantraps, set by thugs and others. These too, rarely lasted long. Between the high moisture content and regular movement of others, the traps deteriorated rapidly or were set off, only to be forgotten.
Mordecai, wishing he suddenly had a ten-foot pole, uses his glaive to push around anything he perceives to be suspicious. He walks carefully, noting the pattern of the water's movement to ensure the pair doesn't slide down to a lower level.
He says to Hadara, "Let's light the torch up - I don't want us falling down here. My eyesight is good in the dark, but still better with some light."
“You don’t have to ask twice.” There was a brief flicker than the yellow glow widened and brighten as the flame took hold on the torch’s oil soaked, rope wrapped head.
If there was any one disadvantage to his choice was the fact that, like the gatehouses separating the city quarters, there were a limited number of tunnels and passages linking each quarters sewer system with the others. And this was commonly known by those who made it their business to know. This crosses Mordecai’s mind as they approached the closet such connector. The tunnel was wide enough for him to stand and stretch both hands out on either side of him and barely touch the walls. The tunnel lead into a small series of rooms, junctions for smaller clay and stone pipes as well as a stone stairwell leading up to the gatehouse that Lilita had sacrificed herself to allow them to retreat as well as leading to a deeper cistern where much of the wastes collected, awaiting the next lunar tide. If there were a place to set an ambush, this was a good one.
“Well, I can’t say with any honesty that light improves the ambiance, I – “
Mordecai hushes Hadara. They carefully and quietly approach the choke point. Mordecai looks for signs of recent traversal and set traps. He pushes forward knowing that they have no other option.
“What is that smell?” groused the fugitive, “smells like half the jakes in the city are having a convention.” It wasn’t the smell, however, that caught the Half-Orc’s eyes. It was a swarm of rats crawling over a body lying in a side room. A body whose body heat was in its last stages of leaching away. Several rats got into a tussle and fell aside, revealing an elven looking face. A female elven face.
(Is it a face he recognizes?) GM Notes: No, but you can tell she was very attractive, once, with long, golden hair. A few gemstones glitter in the reflected light, along with a dozen beady red eyes. The rats protest and squirm, caught between the desire to keep feasting and caution.
Mordecai thinks to himself, "That is a sad sight." GM Note: I struck out Hadara’s comment.
Stifling a cough from the smell, he finally whispers, "Let's keep going - no reason to give those rats access to a fresher meal. Keep quiet - there may be more than rats here."
“Are you sure? I mean, she’s still wearing her jewelry” – the man points at a broach, a ring, and a bracelet. “That gown looks expensive – okay, “Hadara shrugged, “looked expensive once. Manicured fingernails, perfect teeth, look at her hair, it was artfully styled. She’s someone of means, or at least, someone who was kept quite well.”
"I'd normally pass on the jewelry, given we're in a hurry, but it is odd that she'd be down here - unless it was a ransom gone wrong," Mordecai states. He pulls a second torch from his pack. Holding it out, he tells Hadara, "Light it up."
Glaive in one hand, and torch in the other, he attempts to scare off the rat swarm with the fire. "Most rats don't care for fire," comments Mordecai, "but these might not be most rats." [GM Rat's reaction = 28%]
Most of the rats scattered at their approach. The two largest stood their ground, without effort, Mordecai impaled them without effort than pulling the elven woman out of the room to shallower water, against the wall in the main tunnel where he looks her over for any identifying marks, names, notes anything that could give clues to the identity of the woman. He also tries to figure out how she died asking for Hadara for advice on this point given that he seems to be an expert.
After a moment Hadara was shaking his head. “I don’t know, I mean, there’s no obvious signs of wounds or strangle marks. I – wait, what’s this.” The fugitive was carefully moving the elf woman’s head and pulling back her long hair. There was a single, clean puncture wound on the back of her neck. “What do you think?
"Too clean of a puncture to be any weapon I know of," comments Mordecai. "There would be bruising from the impact - unless whatever did that was incredibly sharp and capable of a lot of pressure, sort of like a vice."
The fugitive nodded as he peered closer at the wound.
Mordecai, after a brief thoughtful silence, says, "The strangest part though is that I see no evidence of a struggle. If she were fighting whatever did this to her, that puncture wouldn't be clean, and we'd see bruising elsewhere on her at the points she was either tied up or held."
Hadara ran a fingernail lightly over the puncture and frowned again. “I’ve seen a few exotic weapons, you know, like ice picks, do similar damage but they are usually larger. Then there’s the discoloration around the site, almost as if someone bit her.” His figure traced darkened bruising in the vague shape of a human or humanoid mouth that was offset slightly, leaving the puncture wound as part of the right side of the bite.
“The way she was laying kept the rats from getting at this part yet,” Hadara observed with professional interest, his eyes flickering over her body. “Latest fashion, Vandsari silk with golden threads, expensive. Look at the ring, it has some sort of runes etched into gems. Magical, maybe.”
He pulls the jewelry off the woman as well, the broach, the ring and the bracelet. He comments to Hadara, "We'll take a better look at these above grounds."
“Agreed. Here, take these too,” Hadara says as he pushes part of the dress aside to remove a small pouch strapped to the Elf's thigh, along with a slender, crystal tipped wand. The man shrugged, "It's not stealing. She's dead, she won't need any of this, neither will the rats I assume." He shrugs again. "Never know about rats, though."
Mordecai let's a chuckle slip, before commenting, "Keen eye, Hadara."
Leaving the body against the wall, Mordecai looks down at it with some sadness. "Let's go Hadara - we can't afford more distractions."
Turning away from the unfortunate elf Hadara shook his head.
They push forward.
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Lilita's story continues...
This set several things into motion. The younger guard lunged to catch her just as the older one’s jaw drops open. “Don’t touch her, she’s infected!” [young guard’s Dex save = 9]
“Crap!” shouts the younger guard as he jerks his arms away and stumbles past, tripping over the now prone healer.
The older guard’s hand fumbles for the hilt of his sword for a moment even as he steps back another step. “Gods, woman, why walk them to the docks? A covered cart in the middle of the night is the usual, one marked with, well, damnit, you know!”
“She was showing her Healing Guild Sigil, Garth,” the younger guard groused from where he was sitting up. A moment passed than his head jerked around, towards the street leading into the Common (Poor) Quarter. “Where’d those walkin’ dead go? By the gods, Garth, what if tha captain finds out we let them run off?”
“Shut up, Benat.” The older guard glared at Lilita, sword hilt forgotten. “It’s her fault, not ours!” He waved a finger in her direction, “What are those brainfarts at the Healer’s Guild teaching you pups these days?”
“Garth – “
Garth cut Benat off with a slash of his hand. “Not ‘our’ problem, boy. It’s the healer’s problem!”
Lilita doesn't look! Doesn't dare open eyes or move, she just lays there and pretends to be unconscious listening as they talk and what they say. Giving Mord and Hadara plenty of time to get out of view not wanting to take any more risks with their lives being how she screwed so badly. She wishes them the best and good luck in her mind and waits for least 20 or 30 minutes or until the guards go to move her or time runs out and she figures or hopes that they (Mord and Hadara) are far away and safe.
Some twenty minutes later the guards are still arguing about what to do, who to report too, and whether they should bring her inside or go for another healer. Getting get up as if coming around, she heads back the way she came unless the guards stop her, looking to head back home...
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Hoping that it is sufficient time for her two companions to make their escape Lilita pretends to come round and rise up to her feet hoping the guards will not seek to stop her, should they try to take into custody then she will surrender herself to them without a word unwilling to give up Mordecai or Hadara not matter what so if they continue talking as she heard before pushing to blame her... then she will take full responsibility and attempt to allay their fears by trying to explain that she is not infected and she merely fainted from stress and overwork as the Guild had been working her night and day without sleep and that she will seek to round up the infected and get them through the gate.
So Lilita if that works, she will head back the way she came so if she does happen to catch sight of Mordecai and/or Hadara she will explain what happened and that though risky she might be able to lead them past the gate and to the docks but they would need to decide if it is worth the risk and she would follow as they decided. Note that she does not expect this to happen but is prepared in her mind should they still be about. More than likely they are long gone so she will have no other option than to return home.
Once far enough away from the guards (if they don't arrest her) Lilita will sob and cry!!! Her mind racing, her spirit broken... blaming herself as she had to do, just one little thing... get them through the gate and even that she failed miserably. She messed it all up and most likely cost those two men their very lives and nothing would make for that, nothing!!!
Lilita feels completely worthless, miserable, and guilt-ridden as she walks along crying the whole way back to home to her Vardo. There she will pack a bag with some of her meager possessions and grabs Tulip and her pot and leaves the rest belongings behind. Then locks up her cherished Vardo one last time... heading straight on to work without any sleep. Heading directly for Pencelot’s Healing Shop... as Lilita has work to perform even though she is weak and feeling exhausted, totally drained! At least she has Tulip with her to provide some companionship.
Lilita pushes herself forward, rubbing her teary eyes on her sleeve. Once at the healing shop she begins her duties to clean things and gets the shop ready for business to attend to any customers that show up... as she does this she plans to live in the back of the shop until Pencelot returns so that she can resign her position, she cannot do so until his return as there would not to look after the shop or customers needing assistance. So as long as it takes days, etc. she stays a recluse at the shop and will not come out except for food and then only as absolutely necessary and not at any point head to her Vardo ever again knowing what she needs to do and is committed to it.
So that once Pencelot returns, she will tell him and leave immediately, without delay and head out of the city into the countryside to find grove dedicated to Eldath, the Goddess of Peace and become a hermit nun and find a cave or such to live alone with just Tulip. That is her plan/intention anyway...
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Livvi's story continues...
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"Well, I think young Effie will remember this afternoon for quite a while. She's a nice girl, though, and I'd hate to see her toyed with..." Livvi gives the young man a quick, but stern, look as they follow the barmaid's directions to Pencelot’s Herbery in the afternoon sun.
Cadrian's smile broadens. “My dear, if you wish to keep your prized ewe as you wish, best not introduce her to the wolf you barely know! But rest assured, my intentions are mostly honorable. I was testing her to see how her head spins in the company of nobility, and my answer tells me she may not be a safe person to discuss our current quarry around. I'm sure she is a useful resource for information and gossip for you, but in this I'd leave her out of your exploits. Beyond that, I am assured of getting excellent service the next time I visit, and she has some pleasant things to get her through her day. It also is a nice touch to add concern for her friends" to the assets I attribute to you. my colleague." He chuckles as they walk, cutting an impressive image of courtly grace and willful presence.
The walk takes them through twists and alleys, often just tunnels between buildings built so closely together that the light of the sun rarely reaches the ground. In some places they walk through a tunnel where the two buildings have built connecting rooms above ground level, walking on the street at ground level but under the floor to the 1st level. There are torch sconces here for the night, although in the poorer sections they are rarely lit. Pencelot’s is located on one of the cleaner, better cared for streets within the Laborer’s Quarter (poor quarter to many), nestled between a large bakery and a potter’s establishment. The shop was narrow and only had a second floor with a flat roof that was common in older parts of Tarantis. The shingle hanging above the door showed the healer’s guild sigil as well as the symbol of the goddess of nature, Eldath. The green painted double doors were open to allow in the afternoon sun as well as to further invite those in need to come inside.
Entering the outer room there were several benches, empty now of those in need of healing. A couple of potted plants grew in each corner, emitting refreshing smells that soothed and calmed if allowed.
Livvi quickly scan the building, looking for the Grey Lady herself, or any signs that might point to her. She remembered the scent of herbs from the other night, thinking maybe they were on the right track. Perception: 13 She wasn’t wrong because in the next moment a familiar young woman enters the room and looks startled for a moment.
Lilita blushes and fidgets nervously... her eyes politely and respectfully downcast as she speaks in a shy hushed whispered voice, "good afternoon, m'lord... m'lady... how may I be of assistance?"
Livvi sighs in relief - somehow, she had managed to find the girl despite the odds! She reaches into her pack and pulls out Lilita's shoes, holding them out to her and smiling. "I believe you left these in Avgrat's...and I wanted to return them to you and see how you were. What can you tell me about the man you were speaking to in the store, the nobleman in the blue turban? He charged out after you and I was afraid he meant you harm. I tried to follow but lost you in the mists." OK - she hadn't really lost them - but Livvi felt the white lie was easier than going into greater details about how she had found, and then lost, the man. And how she had almost stabbed her best friend in her fear...
Lilita brightens somewhat at the sight of her shoes. Bowing respectfully to the Half-Elf, eyes downcast never once looking her (them) directly in the she says, "thank you m'lady, it was most kind of you to return them to me, my old shoes are poor and hurt my feet, so I am happy to have these back."
At the mention of the nobleman in the blue turban Lilita looks at the half-elf blankly and shyly responds, "I am sorry m'lady but I don't know the nobleman or his name, I only just encountered him for the first and only time in the shop."
Lilita bows and takes Livvi's hand and kisses it lightly in respect and gratitude for taking the time and showing the kindness to return them. In doing so, (and because of your perception check) Livvi can see Lilita’s puffy, red eyes. All the earmarks of someone who has been crying most of the day.
Livvi never takes her eyes from the Grey Lady - Lilita...she should remember to use her name and not the nickname Livvi had formed for her. Her red, puffy eyes and Livvi's guilt and imagination combined to make her think that the worst had happened - the monster had found the girl last night despite Livvi's efforts to protect her!
Cadrian introduces himself with a bow before politely addressing Lilita, "Excuse me, miss, but could we speak to Master Pencelot? We would like to ask a question or two, if he can but spare a moment."
Lilita turns her gaze downward shyly not making eye contact then speaks in a hushed yet respectful whisper in response, "apologies m'lord but Master Pencelot is unavailable as he is on retreat outside the city, but I expect him back within the week."
"I'm looking for information on the Healing House of the Black Rose. I know they have a questionable past, but I am suspicious that dark deeds are being performed there. I have seen them taking advantage of a girl who is an inmate of theirs, and I am determined that no further harm come to her or any others in their care if I can lend my influence to stop them. I need any information I can get that will enable me to open up their enterprises and stop them if they are, as I suspect, pledged to evil intent."
Lilita does not look surprised. "The Black Rose is perhaps the most famous and prestigious of healing houses in all the city I doubt if there is a soul in the city not aware of it or its reputation. Other than that, I know nothing beyond its location and that they only employ the most talented and skilled healers who graduate from the Healer's Guild. Like everyone else at the guild after I had completed my studies, I sought to apply for a position with Representatives from the Black Rose but was not even tested. Rather they took one look at me and said I was too common a flower to ever be permitted to work there and thus... they turned me away without an interview or a test to measure my healing abilities or potential. I have never been inside the Black Rose, I have only ever looked upon its exterior from the street outside."
Livvi cocks her head at Lilita's description of her financial status, and asks, "Dear one, if you have no fortune or steady income, then what were you doing in the fine clothier's shop last night? You probably couldn't afford anything from there, and you certainly don't strike me as a dreamer or a girl inclined to fanciful whims. And didn't I see you outside the Black Rose the other morning? It seems the hand of fate is determined to bring us together..."
Looking pale and nervous, Lilita responds again, her voice still meek and trembling; “the tailor near my home identified that shop as the shop that made the cloths of the strange woman who vanished in the night while I was treating her. I was concerned for her wellbeing and only sought to try to find out who she was and if she was alright. So, I traveled to that shop after I finished working here but before I could talk to the shop owner a Nobleman, a customer there I think frightened me and I did not wish to find myself obligated to such a man, so I fled back to my home. I did not learn the woman's name, etc. or was able to do or learn anything more since I was unable to speak to the shop owner."
Cadrian listens politely to Lilita's information, maintaining a comforting smile while his mind worked. "Hmmm, yes, that is the public image, certainly. I still have my suspicions, but such a one seems unassailable with naught but suspicions. Perhaps the two events are unconnected..."
"I must ask your pardon, me. my good Lady Healer. I am Lord Cadrian du Flynn, meddler and overall do-gooder. As Mistress Livvi has related to me, you have had a bit of a frightful encounter, and I would very much be interested in investigating the one who seemed to have discomfited you. If you can tell me anything of the events in Master Avgrat's shop, it may be inordinately useful. I would ask you leave no detail you can recall out. I also assure you that anything you tell me will be held in the strictest of confidence, on my honor and my soul."
In a fearful whisper, Lilita responds, "there is nothing really to tell, the nobleman was very polite in his manner and speech to me, almost fatherly had I ever known a father that is what I might imagine. He merely wanted to buy expensive slippers for me, wished me to try them on. But I am unused to the attention of men... noble or otherwise. I do not trust the motives of any man and the longer I found myself in his presence the more uncomfortable I became. I am not a tart and did not wish a gift from a stranger and worried that accepting such may somehow obligate me. Still, he was a nobleman, so I did not wish to offend him by refusing him... so when the opportunity presented itself, I fled into the night. I have never seen the nobleman before or since... nor do I know his name. I swear by the goddess I am truthful and telling all that I know. If I wronged her ladyship in abandoning her to the nobleman's attention, then I am deeply sorry and willing to accept whatever punishment she deems necessary."
"Oh, dear girl, I am no noble to be called a lady. Perhaps I was born to a better family and had more gifts and opportunities, but there is no need for you to feel inferior to me! Come, Lilita. Sit here with me for a moment longer. Is that alright?" Livvi takes hold of the girl's hands and quietly asks, "Are you OK? I can tell you've been crying - something other than our presence here now has you greatly upset. Did that monster get to you last night? I am so sorry that I could not protect you from him!! It's going to be alright...just tell me everything. As Lord du Flynn says, we will see that the noble beast is caught so that he doesn't harm other girls! Oh, look - you are shaking! Do you want some tea? That always helps me..."
Lilita is somewhat taken aback by the Half-Elf maiden's forward and assertive manner in her master's shop but understands such is the way of those of privilege as the meek Lilita assumes that such an exotic and beautiful fey maid, of course, must be of noble birth! Hearing the mention of tea Lilita is given the impression this must be a polite way of reminding her that she is being lax in her duty as a host with noble guests having never before entertained or interacted with high borns.
"Tea!," she blushes with embarrassment, "please forgive m'lady... you require tea. I am so sorry, where are my manners. Just a moment please, I am not used to attending such as yourself."
Lilita quickly and rather nervously scrambles to locate a clean pot or kettle, fill it with water and put it on the fire to heat. While the water is heating Lilita looks through the shop for something... anything she can find to serve with the tea as well as a suitable cup for her ladyship.
Clearly the young woman was stalling, perhaps struggling internally with something that she didn’t want to talk openly about. Lilita’s eyes kept flickering towards where Cadrian stood, looking impatient.
Several minutes later nervously Lilita serves and pours the tea for Livvi and whispers respectfully, "I am sorry m'lady, if I have forgotten something, please don't be cross with me. I do not mean to offend. Just tell me what else you require with your tea... if the biscuits are too stale or insufficient, it is all we have. I can run to the bakery nearby and find you something more suitable if you require."
Lilita herself would not think taking tea with someone like Livvi so remains on her feet not wishing to sit in her presence or to somehow upset her and so only pours a cup of tea for the elf-maiden herself. Lilita, looking at Livvi shyly unsure what to do next attempts to answer her questions, "yes m'lady I have been crying, forgive me, but not about the nobleman but a separate private matter that does not involve you or the nobleman. As I have already told you I only just saw the nobleman of which you speak in the clothes shop. I have not seen him since I ran away so I really have no idea what you are talking about. I wish that I could be of more help to you, I really do. I swear by the goddess I have spoken only the truth to you! If the nobleman has done something to you or to offend you then I am truly sorry I ran away and left, you with him. Far better for someone like me to suffer than someone such as yourself, the fault is entirely mine."
Lilita turns and locates a long birch stick and hands it to Livvi and drops to her knees before her and holds up her own open trembling hands for the elf maiden to strike her hands/fingers as a form of punishment hoping that this will be enough to satisfy and end the questioning... terrified that Livvi will call the guard and have her arrested and imprisoned! Her eyes downcast waiting...
Livvi's exasperated sigh can be heard in the silent shop, and her eye roll is visible to anyone looking. This is not how she expected the Grey Lady to be - so meek and submissive. But she had dealt with this type before - the next few moments would be critical to Livvi's ongoing investigation. She debates in her mind for the width of two breaths, looking at Lilita and the switch, then glancing at Cadrian. Locking eyes with the mage, she shrugs, turns back to Lilita and takes the switch. In the blink of an eye, Livvi strikes Lilita three times across her forearms. As the thin red welts spring into existence against the pale skin of the healer, Livvi intones the following ritualistic phrase, "Struck thrice to pay the price; cleanse the sin; healing begin. You are absolved of any wrongdoing, perceived or actual. Let it be remembered no more." She hands the birch stick back to Lilita, then gently strokes her hair. "You have no need to beg my forgiveness ever again. Understand? I am not a noble and you are not my servant. We are equals. And I will not have my equal scrabbling about on the floor like a slave or a coward. So suck it up, buttercup, and put a stave in your spine! Sit here with me, drink some tea, and tell us more about this woman who disappeared. What did she look like? Did she have silver hair? How did she act? You said that you were asking about the clothes she wore - do you still have them? Is there anything else you can tell us about her or that night?"
Lilita blinked and reeled backwards as if struck in the face. Tears welled up once more, than there was a slight shriek. In the corner a potted plan suddenly seemed to leap up, leaf covered twigs waving and shaking a warning. “You, you can’t understand!” the girl wailed, a desperation in her eyes that was unnatural. Cadrian looked alarmed, his eyebrows beetling as Lilita screamed in terror.
“Those eyes! I can still see them.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper again. One hand gripped Livvi’s tightly as Lilita leaned closer. “Don’t you understand? H – he showed me things; in my mind, you know? Terrible, immoral things. What he wanted; what he demanded… N – no! I- I’ve said too much!”
Leaping to her feet Lilita tore at the front of her thin dress, ripping it easily as she raced from the room and into the street. The shrub rushed after her, pausing only long enough to grab Lilita’s shoes.
Cadrian glances at Livvi and says, “She’s under the grip of some powerful magic. She’s a danger to herself and maybe others. We must stop her,” Cadrian says as he turns to go after the Grey Lady.
Livvi is only two steps behind the Lord as he exits the shop. Her mind was running twice as quickly as her feet, running what the girl said over and over and trying to make sense of it. The noble had projected images into her mind? The fact that they were probably of a very graphic and sexual nature was not a surprise - Livvi saw the way that he looked at the Grey Lady. But he must have had some kind of powerful magic beyond just exuding attraction and grace. Livvi's fey ancestry made her much less susceptible to magical charms, but she would still be more cautious if their paths crossed again. And she was more certain with every step that they would. And that it would end badly for at least one of them...
"Careful now - she is well and truly frantic! We don't want to cause any more harm to her delicate psyche!" Livvi calls out to Cadrian, then mentally adds in a mocking voice, "...at least, not any more than I have already caused by switching her...Damn it, what do we do if we catch her? We can't take her to the Black Rose, despite what everyone else in the city would tell us. And we don't know any other healers here. I guess I could ask Bilina - but I'm not ready to reveal my connection with her to this Lord du Flynn yet. Guess we have to catch her first..." Livvi tries to keep up, but Lilita is surprisingly nimble and knows the streets much better than either of her pursuers.
Up ahead Lilita could be see, hair flying behind her as she wove in and out of traffic. Occasionally someone would shout or yell a warning, others scrambled to get out of the half-clad woman’s erratic path. Once or twice Livvi caught sight of the small shrub as well. It seemed to gather far more attention than the healer girl. Yell’s and shouts turned to shrieks and even louder shouts. Several rough looking sorts seemed to be taking up the pursuit as well.
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Mordecai's story continues...
As they continue, Mordecai tries to peer into the side rooms stealthily and quickly, hoping to find no one, but hoping to catch off guard anyone he does. Now past the chock point and into the dock quarter, the tunnels were wetter, some with fungus or mold growing on various parts. A shallow stream of murky water flowed slowly at their feet. As they moved closer towards the docks themselves the smell of the bay grew. Rotting fish mixing with the offal and other odors expected in a city’s sewers.
Keeping close, Hadara was still shaking his head. “You ever hear of Stirges?”
"Stirges? Big leathery mosquito like creatures, right? I could be wrong as I've never actually seen one - only heard of them. Like mosquitos, they drain your blood. You think what killed that girl was a stirge?" Mordecai responds.
“Maybe. I mean, it’s rumored that the creatures can live in sewers, especially in the deeper regions where, in some cities, the manmade works breech into older underground works or natural cavern systems.”
"I don't know," Mordecai continues, "If a wild animal had attacked her, the result would have been more violent. Besides, I saw you trace the bruising around the puncture - it was vaguely humanoid. What are you suspecting, Hadara?"
Hadara shifted his torch to his other hand and took a handkerchief from a pocket and wiped his face. “Too many questions back there, you know? She wasn’t dressed for traversing the sewers and the wealthy, assuming she’s wealthy and not simply ‘kept’, generally avoid the sewers as a rule. Plus, did you notice how much of her body was intact? The rats had only been at her a short time. An hour? Maybe less. Also, I didn’t notice anything wrong with the back of her feet or shoes. She wasn’t dragged there. It was as if she were deposited. Somebody or bodies carried her there and left. Which bothers me even more. Do you know many minions or hired help that would have gotten rid of a body and left the valuables behind?”
Mordecai thinks for a moment before saying, "Fear or fanaticism. The minions either fear their master enough to follow orders to the letter or are so enthralled that they have no need for the material goods."
Hadara nodded thoughtfully.
"It seems," Mordecai continues, "she was used and then disposed of... I agree, the body is fresh - this happened tonight. I've never seen or heard of this before - which is worrisome. You'd be surprised how much gossip goes on in the business, something like this would have been talked about."
Hadara didn’t hesitate this time. “Honestly, I am baffled by that whole scene, which is rare. Something terrible happened to that Elf lady, that cannot be denied, and it looks like some sort of attack, yet one that she didn’t suspect or couldn’t resist. That was a bite wound of some sort, I am positive of that, but what?” He shakes his head.
Coming to one of the last exits leading to the streets above before reaching the outlets emptying into the bay proper, they paused. Hadara caught Mordecai’s eyes. “I don’t know if we’ll get the time once we hit the streets again, but I wanted to thank you. You’ve been straight forward and kept your word through this thing. I owe you my life, even if I’m just a bounty for you.” The man held up one hand and chuckled. “It’s nothing personal, that. We’re all trying to make a living of some sort. Still, you could have been brutal or worse. Anyway, thank you.”
Mordecai accepts Hadara's handshake and says, "I try to keep to my own rules and code... and what happened at the tavern was wrong - although, indirectly, they might be proven right it. Besides, we're not in the clear yet - let's go."
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Cadrian's story ends...
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"Well, I think young Effie will remember this afternoon for quite a while. She's a nice girl, though, and I'd hate to see her toyed with..." Livvi gives the young man a quick, but stern, look as they follow the barmaid's directions to Pencelot’s Herbery in the afternoon sun.
Cadrian's smile broadens. “My dear, if you wish to keep your prized ewe as you wish, best not introduce her to the wolf you barely know! But rest assured, my intentions are mostly honorable. I was testing her to see how her head spins in the company of nobility, and my answer tells me she may not be a safe person to discuss our current quarry around. I'm sure she is a useful resource for information and gossip for you, but in this I'd leave her out of your exploits. Beyond that, I am assured of getting excellent service the next time I visit, and she has some pleasant things to get her through her day. It also is a nice touch to add concern for her friends" to the assets I attribute to you. my colleague." He chuckles as they walk, cutting an impressive image of courtly grace and willful presence.
The walk takes them through twists and alleys, often just tunnels between buildings built so closely together that the light of the sun rarely reaches the ground. In some places they walk through a tunnel where the two buildings have built connecting rooms above ground level, walking on the street at ground level but under the floor to the 1st level. There are torch sconces here for the night, although in the poorer sections they are rarely lit.
Pencelot’s is located on one of the cleaner, better cared for streets within the Laborer’s Quarter (poor quarter to many), nestled between a large bakery and a potter’s establishment. The shop was narrow and only had a second floor with a flat roof that was common in older parts of Tarantis. The shingle hanging above the door showed the healer’s guild sigil as well as the symbol of the goddess of nature, Eldath. The green painted double doors were open to allow in the afternoon sun as well as to further invite those in need to come inside.
Entering the outer room there were several benches, empty now of those in need of healing. A couple of potted plants grew in each corner, emitting refreshing smells that soothed and calmed if allowed.
Livvi quickly scans the building, looking for someone. A moment later a young woman dressed in a rough spun grey dress enters from the back room. A startled look comes to her face as its obvious that she recognizes Livvi.
Lilita blushes and fidgets nervously... her eyes politely and respectfully downcast as she speaks in a shy hushed whispered voice, "good afternoon, m'lord... m'lady... how may I be of assistance?"
Livvi sighs in relief. She reaches into her pack and pulls out Lilita's shoes, holding them out to her and smiling. "I believe you left these in Avgrat's...and I wanted to return them to you and see how you were. What can you tell me about the man you were speaking to in the store, the nobleman in the blue turban? He charged out after you and I was afraid he meant you harm. I tried to follow but lost you in the mists."
Lilita brightens somewhat at the sight of her shoes. Bowing respectfully to the Half-Elf, eyes downcast never once looking her (them) directly in the she says, "thank you m'lady, it was most kind of you to return them to me, my old shoes are poor and hurt my feet, so I am happy to have these back."
At the mention of the nobleman in the blue turban Lilita looks at the half-elf blankly and shyly responds, "I am sorry m'lady but I don't know the nobleman or his name, I only just encountered him for the first and only time in the shop."
Lilita as she bows and out of gratitude takes Livvi's hand and kisses it lightly in respect and gratitude for taking the time and showing the kindness to return them...
Cadrian introduces himself with a bow before politely addressing Lilita, "Excuse me, miss, but could we speak to Master Pencelot? We would like to ask a question or two, if he can but spare a moment."
Lilita turns her gaze downward shyly not making eye contact then speaks in a hushed yet respectful whisper in response, "apologies m'lord but Master Pencelot is unavailable as he is on retreat outside the city, but I expect him back within the week."
"I'm looking for information on the Healing House of the Black Rose. I know they have a questionable past, but I am suspicious that dark deeds are being performed there. I have seen them taking advantage of a girl who is an inmate of theirs, and I am determined that no further harm come to her or any others in their care if I can lend my influence to stop them. I need any information I can get that will enable me to open up their enterprises and stop them if they are, as I suspect, pledged to evil intent."
Lilita does not look surprised. "The Black Rose is perhaps the most famous and prestigious of healing houses in all the city I doubt if there is a soul in the city not aware of it or its reputation. Other than that, I know nothing beyond its location and that they only employ the most talented and skilled healers who graduate from the Healer's Guild. Like everyone else at the guild after I had completed my studies, I sought to apply for a position with Representatives from the Black Rose but was not even tested. Rather they took one look at me and said I was too common a flower to ever be permitted to work there and thus... they turned me away without an interview or a test to measure my healing abilities or potential. I have never been inside the Black Rose, I have only ever looked upon its exterior from the street outside."
Livvi cocks her head at Lilita's description of her financial status, and asks, "Dear one, if you have no fortune or steady income, then what were you doing in the fine clothier's shop last night? You probably couldn't afford anything from there, and you certainly don't strike me as a dreamer or a girl inclined to fanciful whims. And didn't I see you outside the Black Rose the other morning? It seems the hand of fate is determined to bring us together..."
Looking pale and nervous, Lilita responds again, her voice still meek and trembling; “the tailor near my home identified that shop as the shop that made the cloths of the strange woman who vanished in the night while I was treating her. I was concerned for her wellbeing and only sought to try to find out who she was and if she was alright. So, I traveled to that shop after I finished working here but before I could talk to the shop owner a Nobleman, a customer there I think frightened me and I did not wish to find myself obligated to such a man, so I fled back to my home. I did not learn the woman's name, etc. or was able to do or learn anything more since I was unable to speak to the shop owner."
Cadrian listens politely to Lilita's information, maintaining a comforting smile while his mind worked. "Hmmm, yes, that is the public image, certainly. I still have my suspicions, but such a one seems unassailable with naught but suspicions. Perhaps the two events are unconnected..."
"I must ask your pardon, me. my good Lady Healer. I am Lord Cadrian du Flynn, meddler and overall do-gooder. As Mistress Livvi has related to me, you have had a bit of a frightful encounter, and I would very much be interested in investigating the one who seemed to have discomfited you. If you can tell me anything of the events in Master Avgrat's shop, it may be inordinately useful. I would ask you leave no detail you can recall out. I also assure you that anything you tell me will be held in the strictest of confidence, on my honor and my soul."
In a fearful whisper, Lilita responds, "there is nothing really to tell, the nobleman was very polite in his manner and speech to me, almost fatherly had I ever known a father that is what I might imagine. He merely wanted to buy expensive slippers for me, wished me to try them on. But I am unused to the attention of men... noble or otherwise. I do not trust the motives of any man and the longer I found myself in his presence the more uncomfortable I became. I am not a tart and did not wish a gift from a stranger and worried that accepting such may somehow obligate me. Still, he was a nobleman, so I did not wish to offend him by refusing him... so when the opportunity presented itself, I fled into the night. I have never seen the nobleman before or since... nor do I know his name. I swear by the goddess I am truthful and telling all that I know. If I wronged her ladyship in abandoning her to the nobleman's attention, then I am deeply sorry and willing to accept whatever punishment she deems necessary."
"Oh, dear girl, I am no noble to be called a lady. Perhaps I was born to a better family and had more gifts and opportunities, but there is no need for you to feel inferior to me! Come, Lilita. Sit here with me for a moment longer. Is that alright?" Livvi takes hold of the girl's hands and quietly asks, "Are you OK? I can tell you've been crying - something other than our presence here now has you greatly upset. Did that monster get to you last night? I am so sorry that I could not protect you from him!! It's going to be alright...just tell me everything. As Lord du Flynn says, we will see that the noble beast is caught so that he doesn't harm other girls! Oh, look - you are shaking! Do you want some tea? That always helps me..."
Lilita is somewhat taken aback by the Half-Elf maiden's forward and assertive manner in her master's shop.
"Tea!," she blushes with embarrassment, "please forgive m'lady... you require tea. I am so sorry, where are my manners. Just a moment please, I am not used to attending such as yourself."
Lilita quickly and rather nervously scrambles to locate a clean pot or kettle, fill it with water and put it on the fire to heat. While the water is heating Lilita looks through the shop for something... anything she can find to serve with the tea as well as a suitable cup for her ladyship.
Clearly the young woman was stalling, perhaps struggling internally with something that she didn’t want to talk openly about. Lilita’s eyes kept flickering towards where Cadrian stood, looking impatient.
Several minutes later nervously Lilita serves and pours the tea for Livvi and whispers respectfully, "I am sorry m'lady, if I have forgotten something, please don't be cross with me. I do not mean to offend. Just tell me what else you require with your tea... if the biscuits are too stale or insufficient, it is all we have. I can run to the bakery nearby and find you something more suitable if you require."
Lilita turns and locates a long birch stick and hands it to Livvi and drops to her knees before her and holds up her own open trembling hands for the elf maiden to strike her hands/fingers as a form of punishment hoping that this will be enough to satisfy and end the questioning... terrified that Livvi will call the guard and have her arrested and imprisoned! Her eyes downcast waiting...
Livvi's exasperated sigh can be heard in the silent shop, and her eye roll is visible to anyone looking. The Half-elf’s eyes looks at Lilita and the switch, then glancing at Cadrian. Locking eyes with the mage, she shrugs, turns back to Lilita and takes the switch. In the blink of an eye, Livvi strikes Lilita three times across her forearms. As the thin red welts spring into existence against the pale skin of the healer, Livvi intones the following ritualistic phrase, "Struck thrice to pay the price; cleanse the sin; healing begin. You are absolved of any wrongdoing, perceived or actual. Let it be remembered no more." She hands the birch stick back to Lilita, then gently strokes her hair. "You have no need to beg my forgiveness ever again. Understand? I am not a noble and you are not my servant. We are equals. And I will not have my equal scrabbling about on the floor like a slave or a coward. So suck it up, buttercup, and put a stave in your spine! Sit here with me, drink some tea, and tell us more about this woman who disappeared. What did she look like? Did she have silver hair? How did she act? You said that you were asking about the clothes she wore - do you still have them? Is there anything else you can tell us about her or that night?"
Lilita blinked and reeled backwards as if struck in the face. Tears welled up once more, than there was a slight shriek. In the corner a potted plan suddenly seemed to leap up, leaf covered twigs waving and shaking a warning. “You, you can’t understand!” the girl wailed, a desperation in her eyes that was unnatural. Cadrian looked alarmed, his eyebrows beetling as Lilita screamed in terror.
“Those eyes! I can still see them.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper again. One hand gripped Livvi’s tightly as Lilita leaned closer. “Don’t you understand? H – he showed me things; in my mind, you know? Terrible, immoral things. What he wanted; what he demanded… N – no! I- I’ve said too much!”
Leaping to her feet Lilita tore at the front of her thin dress, ripping it easily as she raced from the room and into the street. The shrub rushed after her, pausing only long enough to grab Lilita’s shoes.
Cadrian glances at Livvi and says, “She’s under the grip of some powerful magic. She’s a danger to herself and maybe others. We must stop her,” Cadrian says as he turns to go after the Grey Lady.
Livvi is only two steps behind the Lord as he exits the shop.
"Careful now - she is well and truly frantic! We don't want to cause any more harm to her delicate psyche!" Livvi calls out to Cadrian, then mentally adds in a mocking voice, "...at least, not any more than I have already caused by switching her...Damn it, what do we do if we catch her? We can't take her to the Black Rose, despite what everyone else in the city would tell us. And we don't know any other healers here. I guess I could ask Bilina - but I'm not ready to reveal my connection with her to this Lord du Flynn yet. Guess we have to catch her first..." Livvi tries to keep up, but Lilita is surprisingly nimble and knows the streets much better than either of her pursuers.
Up ahead Lilita could be see, hair flying behind her as she wove in and out of traffic. Occasionally someone would shout or yell a warning, others scrambled to get out of the half-clad woman’s erratic path. Once or twice Livvi caught sight of the small shrub as well. It seemed to gather far more attention than the healer girl. Yell’s and shouts turned to shrieks and even louder shouts. Several rough looking sorts seemed to be taking up the pursuit as well.
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Cadrian’s long legs carried him along as he dodged and skipped around people in his way. “Keep after her, I’m going to cut across to the next street and see if I can’t get ahead of her!”
Lilita's strory continues...
The morning’s regulars came and went, as did a few in the afternoon though, for the most part, the day had been uneventful. Enough time between visitors seeking healing and one or two who’d stopped in seeking advice on growing plants. Pencelot being a Druid, it wasn’t an uncommon event.
Lilita doesn't give the two visitors a second thought as such is after a common occurrence only hopes she can be of assistance since she is not nearly as knowledgeable on growing plants and herbalism as her master is, she merely dabbles and is not an expert. If she cannot be of any assistance, then is ready with her standard polite response of giving her apologies for being unable to answer their question and an idea when they can expect Pencelot to return to consult with him.
"My sincere apologies but I am only an apprentice and unable to assist you or answer that question(s) but I expect the master to return within the week if you care to come back and consult with him directly."
“Fully understandable,” they had said, then thanked her and commented that they’d be back in a few days to talk with Pencelot.
It was late afternoon when the next visitor entered the waiting room through the open double doors. She had the presence that was hard to forget. A Half-Elf dressed in a mixture of leathers and street ware, her hair tied back, swept in from the street, her posture both curious and demanding. Behind her came a was a tall, well-dressed man in his early thirties and nobody Lilita recognizes. However, she immediately connects the Half-Elf being the same one who had been in Avgrat’s last night.
Lilita blushes and starts to feel a bit uncomfortable when she recognizes the Half-Elf from the night before, she fidgets nervously... her eyes politely and respectfully downcast as she speaks in a shy hushed whispered voice, "good afternoon, m'lord... m'lady... how may I be of assistance?"
The Half-Elf sighs in relief. She reaches into her pack and pulls out Lilita's shoes, holding them out to her and smiling. "I believe you left these in Avgrat's...and I wanted to return them to you and see how you were. What can you tell me about the man you were speaking to in the store, the nobleman in the blue turban? He charged out after you and I was afraid he meant you harm. I tried to follow but lost you in the mists."
Lilita will brighten somewhat at the sight of her shoes she could scarcely afford to replace but still nervous and intimated by the pair and remains meek and nervous in the presence. She will bow respectfully to the Half-Elf, eyes downcast never once looking her (them) directly in the eye will respond to their return, "thank you m'lady, it was most kind of you to return them to me, my old shoes are poor and hurt my feet so I am happy to have these back."
At the mention of the nobleman in the blue turban Lilita looks at the half-elf blankly and shyly responds truthfully, "I am sorry m'lady but I don't know the nobleman or his name, I only just encountered him for the first and only time in the shop."
Lilita as she bows, and gratitude takes Livvi's hand and kisses it lightly in respect and gratitude for taking the time and showing the kindness to return them...
Cadrian introduces himself with a bow before politely addressing Lilita, "Excuse me, miss, but could we speak to Master Pencelot? We would like to ask a question or two, if he can but spare a moment."
Lilita turns her gaze downward shyly not making eye contact then speaks in a hushed yet respectful whisper in response, "apologies m'lord but Master Pencelot is unavailable as he is on retreat outside the city, but I expect him back within the week."
"I'm looking for information on the Healing House of the Black Rose. I know they have a questionable past, but I am suspicious that dark deeds are being performed there. I have seen them taking advantage of a girl who is an inmate of theirs, and I am determined that no further harm come to her or any others in their care if I can lend my influence to stop them. I need any information I can get that will enable me to open up their enterprises and stop them if they are, as I suspect, pledged to evil intent."
Lilita does not look surprised. "The Black Rose is perhaps the most famous and prestigious of healing houses in all the city I doubt if there is a soul in the city not aware of it or its reputation. Other than that, I know nothing beyond its location and that they only employ the most talented and skilled healers who graduate from the Healer's Guild. Like everyone else at the guild after I had completed my studies, I sought to apply for a position with Representatives from the Black Rose but was not even tested. Rather they took one look at me and said I was too common a flower to ever be permitted to work there and thus... they turned me away without an interview or a test to measure my healing abilities or potential. I have never been inside the Black Rose, I have only ever looked upon its exterior from the street outside."
Livvi cocks her head at Lilita's description of her financial status, and asks, "Dear one, if you have no fortune or steady income, then what were you doing in the fine clothier's shop last night? You probably couldn't afford anything from there, and you certainly don't strike me as a dreamer or a girl inclined to fanciful whims. And didn't I see you outside the Black Rose the other morning? It seems the hand of fate is determined to bring us together..."
Lilita pale and nervous from their questions responds again, truthfully, her voice still meek, her body trembling in fear of the pair; “the tailor near my home identified that shop as the shop that made the cloths of the strange woman who vanished in the night while I was treating her. I was concerned for her wellbeing and only sought to try to find out who she was and if she was alright. So, I traveled to that shop after I finished working here but before I could talk to the shop owner a Nobleman, a customer there I think frightened me and I did not wish to find myself obligated to such a man so I fled back to my home. I did not learn the woman's name, etc. or was able to do or learn anything more since I was unable to speak to the shop owner."
"I can only hope that she is alive and well, that she somehow made it back to her home but sadly where I live is none too safe, so I fear the worse for her and pray for her soul."
Cadrian listens politely to Lilita's information, maintaining a comforting smile while his mind worked. "Hmmm, yes, that is the public image, certainly. I still have my suspicions, but such a one seems unassailable with naught but suspicions. Perhaps the two events are unconnected..."
"I must ask your pardon, me. my good Lady Healer. I am Lord Cadrian du Flynn, meddler and overall do-gooder. As Mistress Livvi has related to me, you have had a bit of a frightful encounter, and I would very much be interested in investigating the one who seemed to have discomfited you. If you can tell me anything of the events in Master Avgrat's shop, it may be inordinately useful. I would ask you leave no detail you can recall out. I also assure you that anything you tell me will be held in the strictest of confidence, on my honor and my soul."
Lilita cringes at being called a Lady Healer when she is not a 'Lady' but does not dare voice her discomfort. Lilita's appearance and manner are that of one who is obviously frightened and intimidated by both Cadrian and Livvi, as she speaks to them both eyes downcast and always in shy hushed speech going out of her way to try to be respectful and to not offend either of them!
In a fearful whisper, Lilita responds, "there is nothing really to tell, the nobleman was very polite in his manner and speech to me, almost fatherly had I ever known a father that is what I might imagine. He merely wanted to buy expensive slippers for me, wished me to try them on. But I am unused to the attention of men... noble or otherwise. I do not trust the motives of any man and the longer I found myself in his presence the more uncomfortable I became. I am not a tart and did not wish a gift from a stranger and worried that accepting such may somehow obligate me. Still, he was a nobleman, so I did not wish to offend him by refusing him... so when the opportunity presented itself, I fled into the night. I have never seen the nobleman before or since... nor do I know his name. I swear by the goddess I am truthful and telling all that I know. If I wronged her ladyship in abandoning her to the nobleman's attention, then I am deeply sorry and willing to accept whatever punishment she deems necessary."
"Oh, dear girl, I am no noble to be called a lady. Perhaps I was born to a better family and had more gifts and opportunities, but there is no need for you to feel inferior to me! Come, Lilita. Sit here with me for a moment longer. Is that alright?" Livvi takes hold of the girl's hands and quietly asks, "Are you OK? I can tell you've been crying - something other than our presence here now has you greatly upset. Did that monster get to you last night? I am so sorry that I could not protect you from him!! It's going to be alright...just tell me everything. As Lord du Flynn says, we will see that the noble beast is caught so that he doesn't harm other girls! Oh, look - you are shaking! Do you want some tea? That always helps me..."
Lilita is somewhat taken aback by the Half-Elf maiden's forward and assertive manner in her master's shop but understands such is the way of those of privilege as the meek Lilita assumes that such an exotic and beautiful fey maid, of course, must be of noble birth! Hearing the mention of tea Lilita is given the impression this must be a polite way of reminding her that she is being lax in her duty as a host with noble guests having never before entertained or interacted with high borns.
"Tea!," she blushes with embarrassment, "please forgive m'lady... you require tea. I am so sorry, where are my manners. Just a moment please, I am not used to attending such as yourself."
Lilita quickly and rather nervously scrambles to locate a clean pot or kettle, fill it with water and put it on the fire to heat. While the water is heating Lilita looks through the shop for something... anything she can find to serve with the tea as well as a suitable cup for her ladyship.
Several minutes later nervously Lilita serves and pours the tea for Livvi and whispers respectfully, "I am sorry m'lady, if I have forgotten something, please don't be cross with me. I do not mean to offend. Just tell me what else you require with your tea... if the biscuits are too stale or insufficient, it is all we have. I can run to the bakery nearby and find you something more suitable if you require."
Lilita herself would not think taking tea with someone like Livvi so remains on her feet not wishing to sit in her presence or to somehow upset her and so only pours a cup of tea for the elf-maiden herself. Lilita, looking at Livvi shyly unsure what to do next attempts to answer her questions, "yes m'lady I have been crying, forgive me, but not about the nobleman but a separate private matter that does not involve you or the nobleman. As I have already told you I only just saw the nobleman of which you speak in the clothes shop. I have not seen him since I ran away so I really have no idea what you are talking about. I wish that I could be of more help to you, I really do. I swear by the goddess I have spoken only the truth to you! If the nobleman has done something to you or to offend you then I am truly sorry I ran away and left, you with him. Far better for someone like me to suffer than someone such as yourself, the fault is entirely mine."
Lilita turns and locates a long birch stick and hands it to Livvi and drops to her knees before her and holds up her own open trembling hands for the elf maiden to strike her hands/fingers as a form of punishment hoping that this will be enough to satisfy and end the questioning... terrified that Livvi will call the guard and have her arrested and imprisoned! Her eyes downcast waiting...
Livvi's exasperated sigh can be heard in the silent shop, and her eye roll is visible to anyone looking. Locking eyes with the mage, the Half-Elf shrugs than turns back to Lilita and takes the switch. In the blink of an eye, Livvi strikes Lilita three times across her forearms. As the thin red welts spring into existence against the pale skin of the healer, Livvi intones the following ritualistic phrase, "Struck thrice to pay the price; cleanse the sin; healing begin. You are absolved of any wrongdoing, perceived or actual. Let it be remembered no more." She hands the birch stick back to Lilita, then gently strokes her hair. "You have no need to beg my forgiveness ever again. Understand? I am not a noble and you are not my servant. We are equals. And I will not have my equal scrabbling about on the floor like a slave or a coward. So suck it up, buttercup, and put a stave in your spine! Sit here with me, drink some tea, and tell us more about this woman who disappeared. What did she look like? Did she have silver hair? How did she act? You said that you were asking about the clothes she wore - do you still have them? Is there anything else you can tell us about her or that night?"
Lilita blinked and reeled backwards as if struck in the face. Tears welled up once more, than there was a slight shriek. In the corner a potted plan suddenly seemed to leap up, leaf covered twigs waving and shaking a warning. “You, you can’t understand!” the girl wailed, a desperation in her eyes that was unnatural. Cadrian looked alarmed, his eyebrows beetling as Lilita screamed in terror.
“Those eyes! I can still see them.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper again. One hand gripped Livvi’s tightly as Lilita leaned closer. “Don’t you understand? H – he showed me things; in my mind, you know? Terrible, immoral things. What he wanted; what he demanded… N – no! I- I’ve said too much!”
Leaping to her feet Lilita tore at the front of her thin dress, ripping it easily as she raced from the room and into the street. The shrub rushed after her, pausing only long enough to grab Lilita’s shoes.
<><><><><><><><>
Jacob's story begins...
The window open behind him, Jacob studied the darkened room with care. The job had been simple, yet simple jobs were rarely so. Especially considering the one who’d offered him the job. Bilina was a raven-haired beauty whose reputation was a convoluted one. It was rumored that the woman worked for the Blue Cobra’s, but it was a difficult rumor to confirm. He’d done a few jobs for her in the past and her gold was always good. Perhaps not as good as what he could make freelancing, of course, but the fifty gold crowns she offered, fifteen up front, the rest upon delivery. Delivery of a small, wooden vial that was supposed to be somewhere in this low-end flat in the less savory part of the poor quarter.
The occupant of the flat, one Garse the Gaffer, lay snoring loudly on a filthy bed, two empty bottles on the floor beside him. Of the few bits of information Bilina had for him was that Garse worked for one of the larger bakers in the city, and that the man had a wooden vial in his possession that she wished removed from the premises.
The room stank of alcohol and stale sweat, with a lingering trace of something unidentifiable, baser yet also bitter, coming from the sleeping man. This offense to the senses was in complete opposition to the still fresh remembrance of Bilina's maddening fragrance, leaving a taste of pale skin and dark rose-dew in the corners of ones' awareness.
Holden also had a reputation, if not already obvious from his name; he—and apparently his family name-giving Tarantian kin before him—were particularly good at getting a hold of things- anything from any place really- without creating too much of a fuss, or leaving behind traces that could lead back to him, or, more importantly, to his employers. This was not always so, even though the profession ran deep in his bloodline, Jacob mused, while instinctively grabbing a hold of his blackjack, tiptoeing through a collection of discarded bottles on the floor towards the sleeping man as to check on him. In his youth Holden had made a mess of things more times than he cared to remember, but with age came wisdom, or so people kept telling themselves. This time it seemed that the most difficult part of an apparently already simple job was preternaturally taken care of; Garse the Gaffer had drunk himself into a stupor the evening prior- there would be no need to knock him out as Jacob went rummaging through his belongings in search of that which he was tasked to re-appropriate.
What did Bilina have to do with this waste of a man? What could be in that wooden vial? And what liquid would need its' container to be wooden in the first place? As questions compounded in Holden's mind, he was carefully and systematically searching the place, always with an ear and an eye out for the sleeper, stopping his search as he would stop breathing for a second, only to resume the thieving activity when the man went back into his labored, drunken-sleep breathing. The window was left half open, a weak stream of light barely penetrating from the outside, ready to serve as a quick exit route to the rooftops from which Jacob had entered just an eye-blink before.
As he worked his way around the room, checking the more obvious places. The room was sparsely furnished, a simple chest against one which yielded up mostly dirty laundry and several moldy, seeded bread rolls, the sort that one might find in posh restaurants or at the tables of the wealthy, except for the mold, of course. At the bottom of the chest lay a greasy leather poke with ten shiny gold crowns. Last years date stamped along the edge. A couple more had fallen onto the floor, he noted. A single hard wooden chair sat beside the door. Upon it were a pair of flour and oil stained aprons, a tonic smelling of day-old vomit, suggesting that Garse was on a bender.
Holden left the 10 shiny crowns where they were, ignoring the trail of them on the floor leading all over the place, he did not come here to rob the poor man blind, or any blinder than he already was in any case. Jacob was here for a very specific reason, and anything that was not it- or could contribute to the solving of its' mystery- was of relatively little interest to Holden in there, at least for right now. Maybe when he found the wooden vial he could start pondering if the flats' owner could afford to be plundered any further, given that there was any time left to do it, that is.
On the bed Garse let out a two-punch combo. A deep belch momentarily disturbed the man’s unconsciousness, but only long enough for him to roll over and rip a raunchy blast of wind that would have made a skunk swoon. By the door and momentarily distracted by ‘Garse the Gross’ nocturnal antics, Jacob nearly missed the minute sounds of someone fiddling with the door. A quick glance caught the appearance of a slender wire from between the door jamb and door. Rising, searching for the latch above.
So, this was the inevitable catch; Jacob was not the only thing going bump tonight in this apartment. There was another professional trying to gain entry to the place, and very likely after the same exact vial. Holden quickly reasoned that he had a good ¼ chances for it to be a fellow of the same Thieves Guild as he was- and they had rules for pissing on somebody else’s' already ongoing parade like this- but he was not liking the odds of starting a friendly conversation through a keyhole, only to risk being shanked into his eye in short order. Jacob decided to improvise; he would quickly use the wooden chair near the door as a stepping stone to reach for the head of the door, setting that horrid vomit smelling tunic in place, like a mischievous trap not very unlike from the type that one could observe coming from playing children. Only that Holden was not pushing a wheeled horse, or carrying a stuffed doll, no, he instead readied his blackjack, hiding at an angle towards the door being pick-locked, at which he could complete the surprise. He balled is gloved left fist and strengthened the grip on the blackjacks' handle, grinning in the darkness.
There was a soft click when the wire hooked on the latch and pulled it upwards. As soon as it cleared the door opened inward slowly [GM Roll for improvised, reeking tunic trap = 17], slowly but far enough to send the foul-smelling tunic dropping across the shadowy head of the intruder. [NPC reaction roll = 87%] A sharp curse cut off with a hiss, the intruder dropped her wire hook and went for a dagger. Her other hand snapped up, grabbed the tunic. Without hesitation he brought down his blackjack hard, at the last moment, Holden had to adjust for her much smaller size. [Blackjack Strike = 14+5=19, (2d6+3) = 8 nonlethal damage > GM Roll on Stun Chart = 85% = Grazing blow (Stunned for 7 CR plus -1 to all actions for the next hour) [GM Note: Intruder is stunned for 7 turns (combat rounds) and has a -1 to all actions for 1 hour]
The blow caught her in the side of the head, staggering her forward onto her hand’s and knees. Still covered by the tunic, the Halfling groans and curses incoherently, but softly. On the bed, Garse farted again and went on snoring.
Jacob didn't expect his silly improvised trap to work as well as it did, but he certainly would not let the opportunity slip to further incapacitate his uninvited tiny opponent. To be completely honest he was already feeling guilty for having weaponized Garses' horribly stinking clothes, the poor Halfling still with that wretched tunic over her head, but its' effectiveness was undeniable. Holden quickly proceeded with first disarming the stunned and kneeling little figure by pushing her dagger with a boot towards the nightstand (CR1), then tied and gagged her with a length of the trusty hemp rope that he always carried (CR2). Jacob paid special attention (CR3) to making it as momentarily inescapable as he could- Halflings were famous for being escape artists and were not to be underestimated- having said that the knots were not impossible, with a couple hours and some patient contortionism the Halfling would easily be able to free herself. More than enough time for Holden to find what he came here for and then get the hell out of dodge. Once the little bundle was secured, Jacob would put her into the same chest (CR4-5) where the stale bread and leather poke with the 10 crowns were, at least she would be able to help herself to a consolation prize. "Sorry little fella', nothing personal", Holden muttered in his low, gravelly voice, as he looked her over one last time (CR6) for any identifying markers, like guild or gang tattoos. "Should've paid attention to the runes in Thieves Cant that I carved downstairs- claiming the place for tonight- they weren't left there for nothing, y'know."
From within the trunk came a mumbled, barely coherent curse, then, “By the goddeses perfect tits tha’ hurt, you ass!”
Jacob sat himself atop the closed lid of the chest, as quiet rumbling and muffled sounding curses continued to emanate from somewhere deep within. Holden stroked his black and shortly trimmed beard- his hair naturally tending towards curling- furrowing his brow and, despite the tragicomic situation, looking around the room in a somewhat nonplussed manner. Jacob was preoccupied with mentally putting himself into the Gaffers' shoes for a moment, where would a wastrel like that hide such a thing as the wooden vial in his experience?
Garse was so drunk that a dragon could probably level the block and he the man wouldn’t have noticed. The man broke wind again, sending a foul yet spicy odor roaming the room with a vengeance. From the trunk came another muffled curse. “Wha’ stink!? Evi’ snark…” Then there was a pause than the Halfling’s voice called out in a muffled whisper. “Ain’t part of no’ guild, frien’ Never saw no cant. Trut’”
Holden laughed inwardly, two decades and a half ago or so it could've very well been him stuck in that box. His father did start him early. Though the occupying Halfling was way more apt at cursing than him way back then. That particular art developed with age, not size.
"Listen, little fella', you're telling me what you came here tonight for, and if I don't like the answer, I'll be pushing the chest right under Garses' bed at his thundering backside, goddesses’ tits or no. Maybe we can still salvage this situation, and both go home skimming while holding hands on a rooftop."
There was a pregnant moment of silence from within the trunk and then the Halfling responded, “Tha ‘idow sent me ta fetch somethin’ from dis ‘er stinker. O’ wee container somethin’. ‘idow says it’s importan’”
"I believe you." Jacob muttered. He didn't push the chest any closer to the Gaffers' bed-foot, but he also didn't make any particular moves to open it and free the Halfling inside. At this point it was obvious that, while their employers were different, the commissioned object they both came here for was identical. "Did this widow also spare you with a reason of why it'd be so important for her to get a hold on the contents of said vial?" Holden threw in that question halfheartedly, he knew the little one was either unwilling to part with such information, or more likely not even made aware of it, as is usual with these kinds of shady businesses. Jacob himself wasn't exactly privy as to the wooden vials' utility, but if he had to even risk incurring the wrath of Bilina, there'd better be a damned good reason, "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned", and all that.
This time there was no hesitation. “No, she didn’, but then, floobs like The ‘idow run in far higher circles that we do, you know? ‘robably somthin’ bad, I’m not doubtin’. She did warn me ta ney finger or touch anthin’ left inside. Best leave it corked, she said. I’m guessin’ it’s some devilish poison or tha’ likes.” [Passive perception check = 9]
Holden leapt off the box & onto his boots very quietly. So, it was poison, and of the very high end type, at that. "My employer did not give me any warnings of the sort. You're lucky, little one. Well—somewhat lucky—considering our current predicament." As he went back to looking for the wooden vial in the apartment, Jacob thought to himself that this 'Widow' must be an amateur, maybe a Tarantian high society dilettante of some sort, if she really felt the need to warn her Halfling employee about keeping hands off the merchandise. But then that exact same Halfling was not precisely Thieves Guild material either, by her own admittance. "As they say, little fella', we're at an impasse."
“’ey! I’was ‘onest to ya, big guy! C’mon, ‘et me ou’ an’ we ca’ work ta’gether.” The trunk was cheap and shook slightly as the Halfling girl thumped the inside wall. “yea’ lout!”
Bilina was famed to be a- or at least work for the- Blue Cobra, which were serious business. You did not want to cross her, or them, for no worthy reason. If you desired to avoid ending up as fish fodder in one of the City Ports' eel farms, that is. Holden just knew that this whole story was going to come back and bite him in the behind with a vengeance, but a job was a job and an honest thief only as good as his word. The parlay with the Halfling had come to an end. Jacob closed the external hinge of the trove, just in case the little one would free herself before it was time.
"I will open the hinge when I leave, IF you don't make too much of a ruckus in there while I search the place." Holden paused, half expecting renewed cursing. "Tell the Widow that Garse didn't have the vial anymore. And next time, before breaking in somewhere, read the gods damned Cant runes..." Jacob moved away from the chest with a measured pace, pausing only for a moment while listening to the Gaffers labored breathing, half turning around. "And sorry for the bruise."
“’ine,” came a muffled grumble. “da Widow ain’t gonna like it ‘ne bit.”
Holden was genuinely wondering how and why Garse had gotten his filthy hands on the wooden vial and its' ominous contents but ended up concluding that there probably wouldn't be any satisfactory answers without the sobering up of Garse and subsequently having a good talk with him, right then and there. That was probably the last thing possible under the sun, or moon, considering the ungodly hour. Reality slowed down for a fleeting moment and then started flowing again, as Jacobs' revelry got interrupted by the ringing of a far-off bell-tower; it was time to put all of these doubts to rest and finish what he had come here for. [GM makes a perception roll = 10+4 = 14]
About to give up and start getting clever in his search Holden bent down and glanced under the bed and nearly missed seeing the vial in question among the moldy bread crusts, dirty clothes, and other debris. He also heard a steady cadence coming from the narrow street below.
After about half a second of being frozen, Jacob reached for the wooden vial quickly, looking at it in his open palm with incredulity. He pocketed it carefully into one of his internal leather pouches, hoping its' seal would not break as he'd be soon jumping from one rooftop to another. Holden turned his attention to the sudden source of nightly commotion outside.
The sound grew louder and from the window he could see a troop of armored men-at-arms marching in two columns (a troop numbers twenty). In the lead is a floob in shiny, full plate armor. Half of the troop held shields and swords; the other half crossbows strapped over their backs. A knight, no less. And judging from the pennant hanging limply from a pole held by the lead soldier the troop was part of the Blackhearts, one of cities militant orders that made up Altar the Lion’s standing army.
“w’at’s ‘hat?” the Halfling said in a muffled whisper.
"More bedfellows. Seems that Garses' bedroom is about to become very crowded." Jacob took the Halflings' dagger from under the nightstand, where he kicked it to not too long before, stood over the trove, opened the hatch- leaving it that way- and softly dropped the blade into the general direction of the Halflings' grasping fingers. "Judging by the Blackhearts outside they won't be contempt with knocking for too long. You have a little less than one-minute, little fella'. See ya around Tarantis."
Outside a sergeant bellowed, “First squad! Search that building! Second squad! Watch the perimeter!”
Holden didn't stay for the Halflings' obligatory curses, he rose his black hood, hiding the white half-moons of his eyes, and submerged the rest of his face into full shadow. He would leave all stealth-like from the already open window, and then seal the deal by jumping over the canal to another rooftop. That would expose him the bare minimum necessary to make an escape and put a maximum of distance between himself and the armored floobs swarming on the ground floor. He had to be quick and not miss a step. The window was already behind him.
<><><><><><><><>
Livvi's story continues...
Cadrian’s long legs carried him along as he dodged and skipped around people in his way. “Keep after her, I’m going to cut across to the next street and see if I can’t get ahead of her!”
"Check! Good luck." Livvi calls back, then yells to the crowd in front of her, "Get out of the way, you fawning monkeys!" Livvi was concerned about the distance between her and Lilita, the milling throngs blocking her view, and the new chasers between them. As the pursuit continued through the Market, the bard silently thanked her old combat master for his seemingly sadistic training practices. Because of them Livvi was able to keep up the pace and still have breath to use her more mystical vocal powers. Should she attempt to charm person and get Lilita to come to her? Were the ruffians now chasing after the Grey Lady a more pressing threat, and what would they do if she stopped fleeing?
Livvi quickly decides to try and end the chase first. She had ways of handling the thugs of needed, but things might get ugly when she unleashed her fury... So, gaging the distance to Lilita and her estimated ability to reach her with her magic, Livvi adds her innate magical powers to her words as she calls out to Lilita, She chooses a poem she learned as a girl, hoping to reach through the terror and shame she had seen in the Grey Lady's eyes and heard in the tremor of her voice.
She was gaining on the young woman. It appeared that Lilita was slowing down, gasping for breath as if running out of energy.
"You can't look me in the eye - For fear of saying that you don't like me, - That you don't want to come out and play. - I know you're just a little girl, - Who's lost her ribbons - And scraped her knees, - And who crumbles at their feet, - Who falls apart every time they leave. - You don't want to talk to me anymore - Because you slurred your speech - And ruined the cupcakes. - You think that you ruin everything, don't you? - Maybe it's time to quit, - But I don't want you to. - Come back to me, Lilita. - Hold my hand. - Give me a chance." <DC13 Wisdom save or be charmed> [Lilita failed her Save and is Charmed]
Lilita then stumbles to a halt before falling to her knees in exhaustion.
"It's OK, Lilita. You are safe with me, my dear. Come, let us head back and I will serve you that tea. Then we can finish our conversation." Livvi continues talking in soothing tones while she gently brings Lilita back to her feet and slips her arm around her waist. Now that she has the Grey Lady steadied, the bard scans the crowd for the strange little plant or any other potential problems. She knew Cadrian was running off to try and cut them off - perhaps he would come back this way when they didn't pass by. But Livvi could not worry about the Lord right now...she needed to shelter this frightened dove and get her to safety. Several shadier types seemed to melt into the crowd as her eyes met theirs. For a moment she didn’t see the animated plant than noticed a small bush next to a fresh vegetable stand, which would be unusual in its own right but the fact that Lilita’s shoes hung from two branches made it even stranger, if she hadn’t seen the plant in action.
Lilita nods and whimpers as she struggles to her feet weakly holding tightly on to Livvi's hand to follow her meekly, not resisting.
Livvi nods towards the plant, figuring it could probably take care of itself and starts walking with Lilita. "Do you want me to take you to your home? Or maybe back to the healer's shop? Or would you rather we sit down at a café and enjoy some iced kafe?" As they walk, she continues a light-hearted conversation with the girl, occasionally looking around for a moving bush.
"Back to my master's shop m'lady, left untended and unlocked they will rob my poor old master blind! Please take me back, please," Lilita begs, tears in her worried eyes.
Livvi decides that familiar surroundings would be best for the emotionally-unstable healer, so she guides the lady back to Pencelot's shop. As they approach, there are a few people waiting outside, looking hopeful and curious as they approach. "Shop's closed for the day, people. You'll have to come back tomorrow. No - I'm sorry. Miss Lilita is in no shape to see you now - she needs some rest herself. Go on, now. Shoo!" Livvi takes no excuses or guff from anyone outside. She kindly, but firmly, sends them all away.
Once inside with the door closed, Livvi smiles and turns to Lilita. "OK, dear. Sit here and I will heat this water back up for some tea - for you, this time. Can you tell me about the woman you found the other night? The one whose clothes you were checking out. Take your time." Livvi repeats Lilita's earlier actions - heating water and then preparing a pot of tea. But Livvi moves with a sense of confidence, and some amount of grace bestowed upon her by her fey heritage. Nothing subservient or hesitant, yet neither is she demanding or harsh. Anyone watching would think that Livvi and Lilita have been friends since childhood...
Lilita stares down at her feet as sits, "she was sick, she had a fever, but I didn't know why. I took care of her as best I could, but I really could not do anything to help than to try to cool her down. I thought she was another poor girl from the streets, her clothes seemed dirty and ragged to my eyes, so I did not think otherwise. I was more concerned with finding a way to heal her than to notice anything else about her so didn't give it a lot of thought, just assumed, I guess. The only thing I discovered odd about her condition was a very tiny single puncture in her neck that I could barely even see. I don't know what it was or how it got there except maybe a sting from an insect, a scorpion, etc. or perhaps caused by a needle but those are so rare and expensive, who could afford to use such so I thought more likely a poisonous sting."
Livvi listens, trying to make sense of the various bits and pieces of events. She knew there was a single, consolidated story here that would make sense once she could put it all together...She kept looking out the window to see if Cadrian would return. He was, after all, after the same thing as Livvi - to discover what was happening to the young women in the city and perhaps put an end to it.
Well, she wasn't going to wait for him to show up. Livvi had never relied upon a man for anything - a lesson learned early on and reinforced throughout her teens and early adulthood, and firmly cemented by her friendship with Bilina. Not that Livvi didn't like the boys - she just refused to be dependent on anyone else - much less be a fawning (and useless) type of girl she saw around the noble houses growing up.
"Look, Lilita - I am also trying to solve a puzzle centered around the strange abduction, return, and condition of young ladies around town. I know that you are busy with your healing, but would you consider helping me in your off time? Together, perhaps we can uncover what is going on and help to prevent anyone else from being taken and abused. I started investigating this because of a silversmith's daughter, who disappeared from the clothing shop we were at last night. She just disappeared from under the nose of a group of friends and an escort, only to reappear a few days later in a stupor. Not knowing what afflicted her, her father brought Pithini to the Black Rose, where she remains. The young Lord with me earlier says that he saw her standing naked in the streets behind the Rose last night, and when he tried to assist her or determine if she needed help, she walked as if in a daze into the building, and the headmistress shut him down, refusing his questions or his offer of help. I also know there have been a string of abductions over the past few weeks. So, I want to help solve this and protect women like you and me. Will you keep your eyes and ears open and tell me anything you may hear about? I will also share with you what I find in my questioning...You can find me most days in or near The Witches' Brew - I also act as a city crier and that is my area."
Lilita's eyes tear up again as she struggles to remember that night, "all I could do was make her comfortable and help her to sleep but then I fell asleep myself, just nodded off, I didn't want to, I just did... and when I woke up she was gone. Only her clothes remained, and I went out into the night with them to try to find her, but she was long gone. I ended up stopping at a local clothing shop to ask about her clothes and the old man there sent me to the shop you saw me in on the following night. I intended to ask the shop owner there if the girl's clothes were truly made there or not but I never got to see the owner because I got scared and ran away. That is all I know about the woman; she never spoke so I don't know her name or anything else other than what I told you... I swear by the goddess! I hope you find her; I hope she is alright, but girls alone don't last long in that area of the city."
Livvi glances out the window, and notices that the shadows are growing, indicating that it is late afternoon and that she must make her evening announcement. She also mentally figures that her magical charms will wear off soon, and she would rather not be present when they did - just in case... "Oh - look at the shadows. Speaking of my job - it is time that I get back to the Market and make the even-tide announcements. Are you alright if I leave?"
Lilita in response to Livvi's question simply nods and whispers, "yes."
"OK...you've been a big help. Come see me tomorrow at The Witches' Brew. I know another girl there who speaks highly of you and your abilities, and I am sure she would like to thank you personally for fixing her wrist. Rest, now. You've had a trying time of it based on your reactions and appearance. Be well." Livvi pats her shoulder and stands to leave, taking another look about the shop. The girl was flighty as a young doe - Livvi tried to read her to determine if she would ever see the Grey Lady again or not. Insight: 7
<><><><><><><><><><>
Lilita's story continues...
Her hair flying behind her as she wove in and out of traffic, Lilita could hear their calls fade further behind. Occasionally someone would shout or yell a warning, others scrambled to get out of her erratic path. Behind her the yells and shouts turned to shrieks and even louder shouts. Several rough looking sorts seemed to be taking up the pursuit as well. Even so, she could feel the burst of energy ebbing as she fled.
Lilita having been up all night and all day working in the shop is exhausted and quickly runs out of steam... falls down and does not get up. Too weak to move, her head aching with pain, her thoughts jumbled and confused she just lay there gasping for breath, then hears the following:
"You can't look me in the eye - For fear of saying that you don't like me, - That you don't want to come out and play. - I know you're just a little girl, - Who's lost her ribbons - And scraped her knees, - And who crumbles at their feet, - Who falls apart every time they leave. - You don't want to talk to me anymore - Because you slurred your speech - And ruined the cupcakes. - You think that you ruin everything, don't you? - Maybe it's time to quit, - But I don't want you to. - Come back to me, Lilita. - Hold my hand. - Give me a chance." <DC13 Wisdom save or be charmed> [GM Wisdom save = 7+2=9 > Fails check and is charmed by Livvi>
Lilita lays on the ground helpless and exhausted looking up blurry eyes at Livvi mumbling feebly, "help me... make the voice stop, but first please lock up the shop or they will rob my poor master blind," reaching outward her hand shaking as she tries her best to take hold of Livvi's offered hand.
"It's OK, Lilita. You are safe with me, my dear. Come, let us head back and I will serve you that tea. Then we can finish our conversation." Livvi continues talking in soothing tones while she gently brings Lilita back to her feet and slips her arm around her waist. The Half-Elf’s eyes scanning the crowd that was gathering. Several shadier types seemed to melt into the crowd.
Lilita nods and whimpers as she struggles to her feet weakly holding tightly on to Livvi's hand to follow her meekly back to the shop not resisting or giving her any trouble at all, whatever Livvi wants her to do Lilita will do it or try to as best she is able.
Livvi nods and starts walking with Lilita. "Do you want me to take you to your home? Or maybe back to the healer's shop? Or would you rather we sit down at a café and enjoy some iced kafe?" As they walk, the Half-Elf continues a light-hearted conversation and occasionally looking around as if expecting someone or something.
"Back to my master's shop m'lady, left untended and unlocked they will rob my poor old master blind! Please take me back, please," Lilita begs, tears in her worried eyes.
As they approach Pencelot's shop, there are a few people waiting outside, looking hopeful and curious as they approach. "Shop's closed for the day, people. You'll have to come back tomorrow. No - I'm sorry. Miss Lilita is in no shape to see you now - she needs some rest herself. Go on, now. Shoo!" Livvi is kindly, but firmly, sends them all away.
Once inside with the door closed, Livvi smiles and turns to Lilita. "OK, dear. Sit here and I will heat this water back up for some tea - for you, this time. Can you tell me about the woman you found the other night? The one whose clothes you were checking out. Take your time." Livvi repeats Lilita's earlier actions - heating water and then preparing a pot of tea. But Livvi moves with a sense of confidence, and some amount of grace bestowed upon her by her fey heritage. Nothing subservient or hesitant, yet neither is she demanding or harsh. Anyone watching would think that Livvi and Lilita have been friends since childhood...
Lilita stares down at her feet as sits, "she was sick, she had a fever, but I didn't know why. I took care of her as best I could, but I really could not do anything to help than to try to cool her down. I thought she was another poor girl from the streets, her clothes seemed dirty and ragged to my eyes, so I did not think otherwise. I was more concerned with finding a way to heal her than to notice anything else about her so didn't give it a lot of thought, just assumed, I guess. The only thing I discovered odd about her condition was a very tiny single puncture in her neck that I could barely even see. I don't know what it was or how it got there except maybe a sting from an insect, a scorpion, etc. or perhaps caused by a needle but those are so rare and expensive, who could afford to use such so I thought more likely a poisonous sting."
Livvi kept looking out the window as she listened. When Lilita paused the Half-Elf said: "Look, Lilita - I am also trying to solve a puzzle centered around the strange abduction, return, and condition of young ladies around town. I know that you are busy with your healing, but would you consider helping me in your off time? Together, perhaps we can uncover what is going on and help to prevent anyone else from being taken and abused. I started investigating this because of a silversmith's daughter, who disappeared from the clothing shop we were at last night. She just disappeared from under the nose of a group of friends and an escort, only to reappear a few days later in a stupor. Not knowing what afflicted her, her father brought Pithini to the Black Rose, where she remains. The young Lord with me earlier says that he saw her standing naked in the streets behind the Rose last night, and when he tried to assist her or determine if she needed help, she walked as if in a daze into the building, and the headmistress shut him down, refusing his questions or his offer of help. I also know there have been a string of abductions over the past few weeks. So, I want to help solve this and protect women like you and me. Will you keep your eyes and ears open and tell me anything you may hear about? I will also share with you what I find in my questioning...You can find me most days in or near The Witches' Brew - I also act as a city crier and that is my area."
Lilita's eyes tear up again as she struggles to remember that night, "all I could do was make her comfortable and help her to sleep but then I fell asleep myself, just nodded off, I didn't want to, I just did... and when I woke up she was gone. Only her clothes remained, and I went out into the night with them to try to find her, but she was long gone. I ended up stopping at a local clothing shop to ask about her clothes and the old man there sent me to the shop you saw me in on the following night. I intended to ask the shop owner there if the girl's clothes were truly made there or not but I never got to see the owner because I got scared and ran away. That is all I know about the woman; she never spoke so I don't know her name or anything else other than what I told you... I swear by the goddess! I hope you find her; I hope she is alright, but girls alone don't last long in that area of the city."
Livvi glances out the window again. "Oh - look at the shadows. Speaking of my job - it is time that I get back to the Market and make the even-fest announcements. Are you alright if I leave?"
Lilita in response to Livvi's question simply nods and whispers, "yes."
"OK...you've been a big help. Come see me tomorrow at The Witches' Brew. I know another girl there who speaks highly of you and your abilities, and I am sure she would like to thank you personally for fixing her wrist. Rest, now. You've had a trying time of it based on your reactions and appearance. Be well." Livvi pats her shoulder and stands to leave, taking another look about the shop.
<><><><><><><>
Jacob's story continues...
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As he crossed through the window, he heard the lead men-at-arms kick in the building’s front door. Another sound of shouts and crashing wood came from the alley around told of a similar story. Without hesitation Holden leapt across the narrow space above the street. It was several hours before dawn and typical of the sea port, the streets and rooftops were partially cloaked in fog and darkness, which should make his attempt to elude any pursuit easier. Bellow, the men-at-arms’ must have been expecting such a move, although it was likely that they assumed it would be Garse trying to escape the Lion’s justice. [GM Stealth check (2+7=9) – failed]
“Up there!” someone shouted even as Holden heard the snap and thrum of several crossbows unloading. [NPC att rolls: 12, 14 (hit) – Hit Location roll 07 (grazing shot to the head); Damage 5 – Stun roll required – 7 CR] A bolt shot past on his left and was lost in the darkness. The second grazed his head, creating a shock of pain. [GM Acrobatic check 18+7=25]
Even as the pain became too much for him to handle Holden’s well-honed practice in sticking his landings in tight spots kicked in (i.e. an acrobatics’ check). He landed on the edge of a shallow roof of some shop across from Garse’ room before blacking out.
Another burst of pain shot through his head as he opened his eyes. Distant shouts and the drum of numerous feet seemed to echo in his muddled mind. Holden’s internal clock insisted that he’d only blacked out briefly even though the rest of his mind insisted that it had to be much longer (7CRx6 = 42 seconds). There was a heavy shudder and the sound of cracking wood coming from the room he had just vacated. He also ‘felt’ more than heard movement in the building below him.
Jacob instinctively checked his leather pockets for the wooden vial by patting himself down. Cradling his head only for a second while trying to steady his feet, he realized that crimson drops were leaking from his hood, sprinkling all over the rooftops' moonlit tiles, and also onto his chest piece. That crossbow bolt came way too close for comfort. He frantically kept patting himself down in a daze until he would find the wooden vial, panicking only for a slight moment, half remembering that he had set the Halfling free from her trove just a moment prior.
The reassuring lump of the vial was in place. Below there were shouts of consternation as his pursuers were having no luck finding an easy way to the rooftop where he lie. Moments later came the sounds of shattering glass, enough so to motivate him into action. Head throbbing, Holden raced carefully along the gutter, crossing to the next rooftop and the next. Pausing briefly, he heard another bolt wiz past and clatter across nearby roof tiles. Someone’s shout was muffled by the swirling fog of the bay’s nightly mist.
Holden went into a kneeling position, ready to resume his acrobatic sprint at any moment, while at the same time trying to offer as little a target to the shooters as possible, one open palm resting on the rooftop and his head peeking from behind a chimney.
A few shadows could be seen back where the baker’s assistant’s flat was. Several seemed to be trying to pursue him, though at a slower pace. In the street below he heard the clatter of armored feet and further shouts as those on the roof and those in the street and alley below were communicating as best they could.
"Persistent, have to give them that." Jacob muttered in a low voice, more to reassure himself than anything else.
Holden kept going, looking for one of the canals or some other body of water that he might escape into and elude pursuit. [Perception roll: 17+4=23] Coming around the corner of a four-story building he saw a beautiful young woman with long, silvery hair standing half naked on a flat rooftop across from a large Inn. She looked so scared and so sorrowful, like one of those ancient princesses in ballads so favored by the Bards. Behind her loomed a tall, dark figure, one that immediately put Holden on edge. Only the eyes were visible, as if burning with some infernal inner light. The man shaped thing had one cruel arm grasped around her waist, mouth open, leaning down as if to consume her.
He knew instinctively that this was the distraction he needed, if this truly was who—or better what—he thought this must be, those of the Lions' guard bold enough to pursue him on the rooftops would be in for one hell of a surprise. Holden abandoned any attempt at hiding, and instead dropped right in front of the interlocked couple out of vampiric fairy tale. "So sorry if I'm ruining the moment, m'Lord and m'Lady..." He put both his middle and index fingers under his hood and into his mouth, letting forth such a powerful whistle that it would surely awaken half the neighborhood, or at the very least lure a few clueless pursuers to their demise.
The monster hissed, baring his lone tooth. “How dare – “
A half dozen figures appeared on the rooftop behind them. Several shouting for the masked figure to halt, others were readying crossbows or shouting down at unseen support on the street below.
Holden paused for but a moment to stare at the silver haired beauty, looking at him from over the dark figures' shoulders with eyes not unlike those of a deer caught drinking at a pond by a hungry predator. Inexorably the dark and tall figure turned at him, leading his would-be victim with the grace of a pale undead dancer. Even as he makes to run again Holden extends his hand, an invitation for her to escape with him.
The sad young woman does not speak, instead, she gives a silent shake of her head while placing her hand inside her captor's hand... willing to go and escape with him.
From the next roof over appears a trio of men-at-arms. Crossbows in hand they fire in unison. Two bolt’s wiz past, one precariously close. A third seems to be deflected by the possible vampire as it ricochets off his raised arm and spirals off at an angle that sends it shattering a glass pane in one of the inn’s windows. Inside there’s a cry of pain and an explosion of cursing.
Fury rages in the monsters’ eyes as he spins and hisses overtly at the men-at-arms. In the narrow alley below comes the sound of many mailed feet clattering on the cobblestones. In the lead is the knight in full armor. Visor flipped back he peers upwards.
“In the name of The Lion, surrender your arms and be questioned!” the knight orders loudly.
With a sigh and a slight shrug at the girl Holden turns and rushes off across the roof and disappears into the mist and nightly shadows. Behind him he heard the monstrous creature shout, “Cattle, who are you to issue me orders, meat!”
He didn’t stick around long enough to hear anything more.
<><><><><><><><>
Mordecai's story continues...
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It was late afternoon when Mordecai woke up. He’d made it home to the cheap flat above a cordage dealer’s warehouse. Cheap, cramped, and one of a dozen like it on the warehouses third floor. Aside from the five silver crowns per month, the room had a window that opened onto the second floor’s flat roof. The view wasn’t spectacular, few were in the Laborer’s Quarter. Beside the narrow, straw stuffed bed, there was a table stained nearly black from untold tenants’ various activities. A near new chair went with it. The previous chair had had a cracked legged, something that he had discovered unexpectedly. He also had a cedar trunk with a cheap lock and a shallow cupboard on the wall opposite the window. Before going to bed he had checked the contents of the poke. Not that he suspected that Stax would cheat him – the man had his own reputation to uphold, but that in hindsight, the poke had felt heavier than it should have.
Inside was thirty gold crowns, three electrum crowns, and four small peridot gemstones. An educated guess put their value at ten gold crowns each. The total was one hundred gold crowns.
"No such thing as a free meal," Mordecai says aloud to no one in particular. "I wonder what they'll ask of me for this... generous... overpayment."
He looks around at his surroundings, commenting, "I suppose I could spring for a better place now, but a crown saved is a crown earned - I'm not ready for pleasant upgrades yet."
Mordecai prepares for what's left of the day. He separates his 'wealth' into two pouches: one with enough to get him through a typical day, plus the fifteen gold crowns owed to Quig, and a second pouch with the rest, literally close to the chest, under his clothing and armor.
Before leaving, he gets his task list sorted in his mind -
Get cleaned up and get a new set of clothes. Keep his appearance different from how he went out last night. A bit of polish and oil to his chain mail, which he'll do before leaving, and a slightly nicer set of clothes and cloak to go with it will go a long way. And he supposes he'll have to keep the cueball look for a bit - he misses his beard terribly.
Get a messenger boy to send a note to Quig about where to meet. He won't give a specific address, but a description of a memory that Quig would understand - something related to his days wrestling perhaps.
Once with Quig, he'll pay him the 15 crowns agrees upon. Mordecai may drop him the information he gathered from Hadara about the sabotage of the festival. Something doesn't feel right about that and the way Hadara described it. Hadara may be a foreign agent, but he's an independent contractor - he made it seem that whoever contracted him is based in THIS city.
Go see a trusted arcanist/fence about identifying and valuing what he found in the sewers. Someone who knows discretion is important above all else.... Someone with that sort of wealth, an elf at that, doesn't go missing without people looking for her - and Mordecai is not about to get pinned for something he had nothing to do with.
Go check in on that naturalist, Lilita... Mordecai owes her a donation, one of the peridots should do. She might also have some insight on what happened to the elven woman. If it was a stirge or something else, she would likely know more about it than he.
It was mid afternoon before he set out. Finding a willing boy was easy. Street urchins of both sexes and many races were as thick as flees in many parts of the city and his neighborhood wasn’t any different. Many were untrustworthy, others more so. He found one by the name of Garion who had ran a few odd errands for him before and had proved himself true to his word. The boy was about ten and Mordecai figured it wouldn’t be too many more moons before one of the thieves’ guilds would start to take notice of the boy if they hadn’t already. He was also a font of rumor and street gab, but smart enough to keep his trap shut unless prompted.
Checking the coin briefly before pocketing it, Garion nodded. “Ya’, I’ze knows tha’ fat man, Quig. E’z one-o-dem city clerkers durin’ tha day. I won a silver crown ‘nce, bettin on h’m in da Ice Pit.”
After sending Garion on his way Mordecai stopped into a clothier’s shop, one of a dozen in the quarter. A doorway in the far corner led to another room, the clothier’s main work space as Mordecai could see several apprentices hard at work. A few carved human figures were dressed in modest clothing made from average materials, not unexpected since most of the inhabitants of the Laborer’s Quarter could ill afford to commission attire. The balance of the shop’s goods catered to those who made their own. Rolls of uncut cloth lined one wall, ready to be pulled out and cut by length. Another wall was stacked with open faced baskets holding balls of yarn, while behind the counter multi drawered case held needles of varying materials, likely bone or wood. Metal would be expensive here, as well as buttons of all sorts. A few ready-made garments hung from pegs, ready for quick sale for those with the coin.
It took a bit longer than Mordecai had planned on as one of the shop’s servants had to measure and make some adjustments to the clothing he had picked out. All told, he spent a gold crown and three silver.
The sun was starting to go down by the time Mordecai reached Keesha’s Roadhouse on Jawhar Lane. Frequented by the rowdies of the City State, the tavern was often the sight of regular mayhem. Because of this the place was none to clean and most of the chairs and tables are in a battered condition. Keesha, a stout, somewhat fleshy Dwarf who, in her prime, had been a professional fighter and wrestler. Her husband – known by the locals as Max Madhand – acts as both bartender and referee. While late in arriving, it was early enough that Keesha’s regular crowd was still filtering in and mostly sober. Pausing inside the door long enough for his eyes to adjust to the dimer inside, Mordecai was greeted by Madhand.
“Been o’ few fivedays, Mord, hope der hanging righ – oy! Wha’ happened to that smudge you call a beard? Loose a bet?” The Dwarf, like all Dwarves, took great pride in facial hair. Madhand’s was tightly braided and decorated by a silver pin shaped like a hand stroking the beard.
Mordecai sighs, "Aye, a lost bet... of sorts. I don't think I was even this hairless the day I was born."
"Outside of this disaster," Mordecai says as he points to his face in general, "things have been okay. Have you seen Quig?"
Madhand nodded his chin in the direction of a table where Quig sat, wolfing down a bowl of the establishments spicy fish stew. Beads of sweat covered the top of the overweight man’s head and a large tankard of something sat within easy reach.
Mordecai sits across from Quig and immediately says, "Go ahead - poke your fun now - get it all out of your system."
A flash of surprise lit the fat man’s face as he took in Mordecai’s appearance, which was followed by a grin. “Donno, kinda makes you all pretty an’ shiny. Less of a meanmug, you know? Add’s some of those dandified clothes the Nob’s like an’ you could find a job as some nob’s butler. Hmm, wait, ever think of o’ job in politics?”
"Okay, that last one was actually funny," Mordecai comments.
Quig’s chortle smelled of over spiced fish stew.
"Now that you've had your fun - it's time for business," Mordecai states. He slides over a small pouch with the fifteen crowns that they agreed upon a day earlier. "Your finder's fee for the name you put me on to, but holy hell man, it was a lot more trouble than what we thought it'd be."
Without counting it the fat man made the pouch disappear. A look of concern replaced the mirth from a moment ago. “Yeah? Nobody mentioned – how much trouble?”
"How much more trouble?" Mordecai asks rhetorically. "I'll tell you how much -" he leans in to say the rest in a quieter, hushed voice, "first off, I had a squad of guards looking to get the reward themselves, making up stuff that wasn't on the bolo - they came after me, despite me announcing that I was operating within the bounty’s law."
“There’s more than a few of those sort’s working for the City Guard. Not that I can’t fault ‘em for trying to get in on the action but it’s kinda low to be adding stuff to the charges. That sort o’ thing gets back to the courts a guardsman might find himself cashiered out. What else?”
"Then Firehair got into my face, but even she backed off once the guards started pulling weapons. Point is, this cost me more skin than I expected - literally," Mordecai touches the still healing dagger wound on his shoulder, "and in the end, I'm pretty sure this was a setup from the beginning - not for me, I sort of just fell into it."
Quig whistled softly at the mention of Firehair, reinforcing the idea that the Drow huntress’ reputation was known in the higher arenas of the city circles. “She’s in thick with Stax? That’s new,” muttered the clerk. “Well, at least it wasn’t worse, or was there more?”
"Oh, no, of course that's not all, but if I'm to tell you more we need some ground rules. The leads I give you, should they be reward worthy - and they are - I want half of what you get," Mordecai states.
“There’s a few among the regular debtors and petty criminals wanted coming down from above,” Quig said, “not to mention that the Council of Ministers is issuing a reward for anyone who can put an end to those disappearances. Upper crust merchant’s daughters and noblewomen keep going missing. It’s up to one a week now and the nobs are putting pressure on the Ministers to put a stop to it.” Quig scratched his chin and met the Half-Orc’s expectant look. “What? You want me to personally vet bolos for you?”
"That's right, you'll be the face to cash in, I've got other things to tend to, and I'd rather not walk into any of the ministries right now," Mordecai responds.
The fat man gaped at him. “You ain’t asking for much, are you? I donno, Mord. It’s not like I’m the Blue Cobra’s or something. I’m just a clerk, you know?”
After some thought Mordecai responds, "Fair enough, Quig - I'll vet and collect, I just can't show my face in the ministry until I'm forgotten. I heard a crier today - they described me along with Hadara... at least what I looked like last night."
Mordecai takes in a breath and sighs, "I'm not used to being one of the hunted. Once I'm out of the bolos and another week has passed after that, I'll go visit you at your office."
“Good idea,” Quig says, reaching for his mug. “If anything interesting comes up I’ll have someone bring it to you.”
"Now, the real interesting stuff? Well, that depends on how attached, entrenched and enamored you are with our government. So, how much are you?"
Quig looked surprised again, than looked annoyed. It wasn’t hard to see that he didn’t like where the conversation might be going. Poking at the cold remains of his dinner Quig. “The Lion’s family been ruling the city for, well, for more time than I can count. It has its bad parts, but there’s good stuff, too. Even talking about such things can get a floob fingered or worse, you know?” The fat man shook his head and leaned forward, “I like ya Mord, and I’d hate ta see your name on a bag and tag notice…on the other hand…” There was a longer moment as the man’s eyes flicked across the occupants seated at nearby tables “Now, if’n your saying you’ve found some…interesting stuff, there are certain nobs and high ups that would pay quite well, if’n you know what I’m saying. Wait!?, what’s your opinion on the establishment?” The man’s eyes narrowed slightly. “It’s a big city, you know. There’s always some nut whose got an ax to grind.”
"Look - I ain't got a gripe with the government and may the gods bless the Lion and his pride. I'm just saying, I found out stuff last night and it seems the people that hired this Hadara - and trust me he did more than just talk revolutionary talk - was someone here... in OUR city... and I'm pretty sure someone placed in our government...."
"Now, Quig... I'm going to say some things, and I'm going to need to trust you not to go overboard..."
Mordecai proceeds to tell Quig about the plot to poison the upcoming festivals through the baker...
“Not so – “Quig’s hand shot up as he hissed. “How’d you know about Garse the Gaffer? This Hadara fella feed you that name?”
"Yes," Mordecai responds, "he did. Both when he was delirious and unable to hold the truth back and later when he was sober but had come to trust me."
“I was in Flander’s office” – Flander’s, sub-minister of internal communications and Quig’s boss – “this morning when a bird came in with a message to hold up tomorrow’s news and announcements for the Criers – “
Mordecai interrupts, “This bird.... What did she look like? There was this woman at the tavern the other night that simply did not belong there, and she played it too coolly when everything began to go down - even Firehair got a little flustered."
“Mid length hair, raven black, dresses like a nob.”
Mordecai describes the woman from the tavern that was trying to catch his eye. The one sliding closer to Strax as the fight broke out.
Quig’s face breaks out in sweat even though he hadn’t taken another bite of the fish stew since Mordecai had sat down. “Her name’s Bilina. Works for the crown – I think she’s a runner (handler) for the Head Adviser’s office, though tha rumors in tha palace say she’s a Blue Cobra. Come ta think about it, it was a bit strange ‘cause a bit later a page from the Head Adviser’s office (Altar the Lion’s right hand) showed up with a notice for us to distribute to the masses. This here Garse was captured in a raid overnight. A troop of men-at-arms from the Blackheart’s (A military unit belonging to the royal guards) stormed his flat an’ took him in custody but not before he tried to put a few of them through a window or something. He’s for the headsman’s ax, you can bet.” For a fat pit fighter turned government flunky, Quig’s mind was sharper than many gave him credit for. Maybe not as quick as some but he had a knack for seeing through a wall, given time.
"See, there's no way they would be able to get actionable information and act on it that quickly... but they did - because someone in some wing of the government came up with the blasted idea. Probably a group that knows how to operate with discretion and absolute will," Mordecai replies exasperated. He then, after a pause, whispers, "A group like the Blue Cobras."
“Wonder what the bird’s game is,” he said after a pregnant moment. “It was as if she knew ‘fore hand ‘cause she stopped in early, than left, probably to visit the Head Adviser’s office to arrange for an official notice for this Garse fellow. An’ you said Hadara dropped a few more names? Whatever’s in the offering sounds rather convoluted, you know?” Quig shakes his head. “Too much isn’t known yet…”
After a bit of silence, Mordecai speaks, "Look, I could be wrong. Just - too many impossibilities. The whole bloody city is going mad it seems." He slides his chair next to Quig's, before telling him, somewhat unsettled as he does, "There was a dead elven woman in the sewers. She looked like a noble, or at least wealthy. All her belongings were still on her, so it wasn't a mugging gone wrong. And there was a weird puncture wound on the back of her neck, as if a man-sized mosquito bit her and, well, drank her. I met a naturalist that I'm going to visit who may shed some light on what could've done that."
The fatman’s eyes blinked as he sat back and tried to chew on what the Half-Orc had just said. Draining his mug, Quig shook his head. “Another missin’ nob. It’s been going on now for ‘bout two months. One or two every fiveday. Either nob’s or family of wealthy merchants. A lot of heat’s being sent up the towers’ of all the Ministries. If’n it was anyone less, few would care, y’know? Even stranger is tha’ a few of those who’ve gone missing have turned up days or fiveweeks later an’ claim to have no idea where they’ve been or what happened to them. A couple of them are under care of the healers at The Black Rose, or so I’ve read in various messages to Flander’s. Dead elf, eh? There’s a delegation of high elven muckitymucks that arrived a few days ago for the upcoming festival, wonder if she’s with them.”
“What about this, whadya say his name was? Fuzzface? Sounds more like an alias,” Quig grumbles.
"Fuzzface? Actually - you might be able to shed light on that. This" Fuzzface" works within the ministry and seems to be the person this Bilina woman responds to. Apparently Bilina also works for a widow, but I don't know if that's connected to anything," Mordecai responds. "Does 'fuzzface' ring a bell for you? For that matter, what of 'Garbel' and 'Silver Dance?' See whatever is going on, I'm pretty sure this 'Fuzzface' is orchestrating the..." in a whisper, "...assassination..." then back to a low, but more normal tone, "...of this 'Garbel' to occur during the 'silver dance.' via glass shards we within a gorse berry pie. This Hadara was also obsessed with ravens splotched with blood - he said it during his stupor and then we found one in the docks by the sewer entrance we took. Not sure if he's superstitious or if it actually means something. Any of this make sense to you?"
Quig scratched at the stubble on his face. “Some an’ none. Fuzzface kinda makes me think of someone with a beard, maybe a crappy one or a big, thick one, y’know? I can think of a half a hundred such floobs prancin’ around the various ministries. Hell, half the city’s bearded like as not.” He shook his head. “Don’t recognize this Garbel either, though I can ask ‘round. Now this Silver Dance reminds me of the Royal Dance of Silver. It’ tha’ biggest masquerade ball o’ the festivle an’ held at the palace under the graces of Altar the Lion. If’n this…thing…is gonna go down there, then these floobs are likely lookin’ to take down someone or someone's high up. Not sure about no widow or bloody ravens.”
Waving towards the bar for a couple of fresh mugs of beer, Quig sighs, “Troublin’ winds, my friend. Feel’s like a dark storm far out on tha horizon, coming in with tha tide. What with tha Festivel o’ Silver next week, what better time ta pull off somethin’ foul. First all these nobs goin’ missing, now this…plot. Still, knowledge is power an’ such things can lead to opportunities for those in tha know. What’s yer plans next?”
Mordecai, after some silence passes between the two of them as they digest the conversation, finally says, "You are right about one thing... with the city sliding into chaos, despite the source, there will be money to be made. Just need to be a little careful about how we go about it and who we can trust."
Mordecai will be observing Quig closely throughout the conversation, trying to ascertain the honesty of his responses and for signs of betrayal - Quig is self-interested, but to Mordecai has always been a straightforward man.
"Well, right now, I'm going to see this naturalist about the mosquito death. Maybe she's heard of such a thing. Which reminds me - if that elvish delegation sets up an official missing person and includes a drawing or description of their missing friend, see if you can get a copy - I'm curious to know how it compares to the person I found in the sewers," Mordecai states.
Mordecai continues, "And regarding this Bilina-Garbel-Silver Dance business... I'll see what I can find. Try to do the same on your end. Preferably something that leads to us profiting. Oh, and I just remembered - I think I know the name of the bugger that flew the coop from the baker's last night: Mardiat. Hadara dropped the name 'Mardiat' during my interrogation. He's a dwarf and a co-conspirator in this plot. If you do go about asking questions - be careful about it."
“I’ll do that. Might ask this naturalist ‘bout the Raven. Can’t think of any breeds ‘round these parts with red markings but who knows.”
Mordecai orders a light meal for himself and a round for both him and Quig. He eats and drinks silently with Quig, letting the weight of the conversation sink in.
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Lilita's story continues...
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The walk through the quarter seemed to take forever and timeless. The mists swirled around them, caressing them in ways that caused Lilita’s skin to bristle in bumps. The – what had Livvi called him? The Noblemonster had refused to respond to any more queries or questions, intent on some destination. She knew that they had traversed one quarter to another but not how, anymore than the loss of time could be explained easily. At one point he swept her up into his arms and easily ran up the side of a building before setting her down and continuing across the city rooftops.
“Yesss,” he hissed in satisfaction. Taking Lilita’s wrist in his iron grip he pulled her close so she could feel him pressing against her back and made a slight gesture towards a nearby window. The Half-Elf; Livvi, was leaning out her window and fiddling with a loose brick. Moments later the Livvi was back inside her small flat.
“What do you think of her, Lilita Lilitu”
Lilita looks at him her eyes tearing up she whimpers, "please father, why are we here? Take me somewhere else, please. Show me something beautiful, something mysterious... a place that has special meaning to you... to us!"
“The whole city is your father, Lilita Lilitu, I am your master,” he hisses into her ear. “Look at her. She is beautiful, is she not? She is something mysterious, is she not? Beauty is passing. Mysteries can be unraveled. She is a sheep, a cow, chattel to be used and consumed.” His body pressed closer to Lilita’s as the hunger in his voice rumble in her ear. “So eager to please, so desperate to divert me from the prey that surrounds us. Come now, say the word. Just nod oh so innocently in that way you’ve practiced so hard to do and I will take her; consume her. You can hold my cloak and tremble in that horrified way that so many sheep like to do.”
Only a few strides away Livvi was opening a box and taking out that red gown the Half-Elf had tried on in Avgrat’s only a few nights ago.
"No, you are my father... for others, you may be their master but not me, I can feel it. You might be a monster, but I don't care, just please don't go out of your way to show me what a monster you can be. I know what you are capable of but you capable of far more too if you want, if but try. But yes, father, Livvi is beautiful, very beautiful but then the fey are exotic sensual creatures even the half-breeds like Livvi make females like me seem to be nothing more than ugly clumsy cows by comparison... as you seem so fond of saying. Is that what want to hear me say, father, that I am an ugly cow? Do want me to be jealous of her, to envy and hate her?"
“She is a threat, asking questions, seeking answers to riddle’s that are above her station as a cow. A threat that will soon draw the attention of…the others. Yet you still seek to dodge, to avoid making a choice; of taking a stance, Lilita Lilitu. If I am your father, as you desperately want me to be, than shouldn’t her threat to me concern you? Monster that your kind all to often brand mine with, shouldn’t you wish to protect Me from them?”
His iron grip holding her tightly, too tightly, it hurts her... "please father you are holding me too tight; it hurts... please let go of me just for a little bit and I will think about holding your cloak for you... Did you buy Livvi that beautiful majestic gown? It is the same one that she tried on at the shop isn't it?"
“Refusing to make a choice is still a choice, Lilita Lilitu. Attempting to buy time, perhaps? Hoping some knight will come rescue you? No, of course not. I have watched you now for some time. You beg to be used, to be consumed, only you project this sublime innocence; this pity me for I am a victim, yes. Or, perhaps, you stall in hopes that she” – his face turns towards the Half-Elf, unaware of the danger lurking outside her window – “will leave, thus gaining her a bit more time. My hunger is eternal and grows, its own form of dominance. The master as I am the slave.” The noble monster’s voice thickened, “Tonight it will be slackened, both the desperate hunger and the need for carnal delectations. Choose, Lilita Lilitu. Which is your part to play? Which part shall her burden be? Perhaps I should help you decide, yes? Is this what you secretly want?”
His hands loosened their grip only to up to her shoulders. Lilita felt the slight tug and with the damage done to the front of her dress from earlier in the evening it easily slid over her thin shoulders to pool at her waist. She felt one of his arms encircle her waist, his cold hand lightly caressing her belly while the other hand gently pulled aside her long hair, baring her neck.
“Secretly you resent others, such as your Fey friend for their external beauty, denying your own as surly you are not deserving of such praise. Say it, daughter” – his tone mocked – “and you shall sustain one need while she acts as surrogate for you to sate the other…chos – “
A dark cloaked figure suddenly dropped right in front of them.
"So sorry if I'm ruining the moment, m'Lord and m'Lady..." He put both his middle and index fingers under his hood and into his mouth, letting forth such a powerful whistle that it would surely awaken half the neighborhood. [Reaction for the Vampire = 87%]
The noble monster hissed, baring his lone tooth. “How dare – “
A half dozen figures appeared on the rooftop behind them. Several shouting for the masked figure to halt, others were readying crossbows or shouting down at unseen support on the street below.
For a moment the dark stranger stared at Lilita, his expression was one of shock and wonder. His hand extended as if to say come with me.
Lilita does not speak, instead, she nods a silent yes... placing her hand inside her captor's hand... willing to go and escape with him. Lilita is not ready to give up on the creature... meaning to prove wrong all the hurtful things he has said to her. Not wishing to hurt or betray him as the silver-haired woman Lilita believes that she reminds him of, did...
From the next roof over appears a trio of men-at-arms. Crossbows in hand they fire in unison. Two bolt’s wiz past, one precariously close. A third seems to be deflected by the possible vampire as it ricochets off his raised arm and spirals off at an angle that sends it shattering a glass pane in one of the inn’s windows. Inside there’s a cry of pain and an explosion of cursing.
Lilita stays frozen in place right where she is, so does not move, speak or otherwise take any action(s) preferring to leave such to males to work out between them since there is basically nothing she can say or do that would make one lick of difference with regard to either side.
Fury rages in the noble monsters’ eyes as he spins and hisses overtly at the men-at-arms. The colors and style of their armor mark them as members of the Blackhearts, one of the various companies serving in the Royal Host and not members of the City Guard. In the narrow alley below comes the sound of many mailed feet clattering on the cobblestones. In the lead is a knight in full armor. Visor flipped back he peers upwards.
“In the name of The Lion, surrender your arms and be questioned!” the knight orders loudly.
With a sigh and a slight shrug, the dark stranger turns and rushes off across the roof and disappears into the mist and nightly shadows. Beside her the noble monster halted his advance towards the crossbowmen and turned to sneer down at the knight and men-at-arms below.
From Livvi’s open window came: "Get away from her, you bastard!" As the Half-Elf dove out of her window in a running jump, rapier in hand her other hand made an arcane like gesture.
A roar of anger came from the noble monster, more out of rage at her audacity than from the actual damage. The Vampire wheeled around to face Livvi and in doing so, revealed himself fully to the crossbowmen who shouted warnings even as they fired at a volley at him and Lilita. One shot so close to the Grey Lady as to further damage her ragged dress. Another struck the beast but left no mark of damage.
“Kill you all!” the vampire raged.
Lilita blinks and whispers, "fight them or save me," she says simply as without looking as she jumps off the roof-top figuring only her monster can hear her voice, so low and hushed is it in comparison with all the shouts and sounds of battle about to begin or in progress as the case may be.
A look of shock crosses the Half-Elf’s face. She drops her rapier and takes three long strides and goes over the side of the building with, shouting an arcane word. (casting Feather Fall) [GM roll for grapple: Livvi’s 16+3=19 vs. Lilita’s 10+2-12 > Livvi’s successful//Using Dex(acrobatics as the base for both characters)].
Halfway to the ground Lilita feels strong, slender arms clasping her around the chest. With a little laugh, Livvi murmurs, “Gotcha.”
The two ladies drift to the ground, stepping lightly onto the cobblestones in front of the knight on his large horse as if they were coming down a staircase instead of falling over 30 feet. "Please protect us - I think that creature is a vampire!" Livvi calls out so all can hear. She then helps to place Lilita's dress back on to cover her naked upper body, completely forgetting that she is herself naked except for some paint, dried flour and sand, and a now-ripped pencil skirt sewn with shiny bits like fish scales...
For a moment her father figure stands at the edge of the roof gazing down at her with blood shot eyes, bolt’s whizzing around or bouncing off him. One becomes tangled in the blue turban. Around her, the Half-Elf is talking excitedly; the knight shouting orders as more floobs arrive. Some locals, drawn to the commotion, other’s City Guard, then his form wavers as he, too, steps off the edge, only to morph into a large bat that races off, into the dark mist.
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Livvi's story continues...
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Livvi quickly returns to 'her' square, standing upon a barrel to deliver her evening announcements. She repeats her standard attention-getting routine - clapping her hands three times in sharp succession, then launching into an oratory performance beyond what a normal crier would do. "Good people of Tarantis, lend me an ear, for I have important news of grave import!" Livvi had learned the announcements by heart, even the new ones from this morning, so she did not need to fumble around with the tube or her papers. Instead, she held the official-looking tube up and pointed with it to emphasize certain points or to silence the crowd.
"First, a word of encouragement for the public good. Your beneficent leader, Atar the Lion, does decree that his beautiful city should not be fouled by excrement of its population - be they nobles or commoners. Therefore, the Pride decrees that urinating or defecating in the streets, or dumping your wastes in the street, is a most heinous act and must henceforth stop lest you be punished and fined up to 10 pieces of gold." Here Livvi raises the tube for dramatic flair..."And if you think to yourself, 'How would the Lion know if I shat in the dark corner behind the alehouse?' let me assure you, his wizards can not only determine your identity by your droppings better than the King's own Rangers tracking a deer, but they could also send a swarm of small, biting insects to hunt you down based on your offal. I have it on good authority they will enter your orifices and lay their eggs inside you! So good people, I am begging you, with tears in my eyes, use the toilets and sewers!!"
There was an instant reaction. Some called or shouted down the ‘new law’ while others shouted and cheered, heads nodding in agreement. Most of the crowd stood in silence or quietly murmuring to those nearest to them, confused about something that was as old as time. How else, they muttered, were they to dispose of such wastes? The drama served to draw more to move within hearing, curious about what was causing the commotion.
Livvi had made that announcement up , but she was so tired of mucking around on questionable puddles and the ever-present smell of piss that she had decided to do something about it...The rest of the announcements were as written - warnings about agents from elsewhere - grand announcements about the upcoming festivities, and news of a special tax to be levied for upgraded armor and weapons to protect the city.
With one last theatrical pose, she jumped down and made her way to the Government Quarter to turn in the day’s parchments and pick up her silver. She arrived at the office with little time to spare as Quig was closing for the evening. The rest of the staff had already left; the sub-minister probably had left mid-day as was his usual.
“Didn’t think youse was coming, Livvi is it?” The chief clerk took the parchments and tossed them on a nearby desk. “Gonna be more in tha morning, for sure. I’m expectin that there will be a big hangin’ in a few days, assumin’ the justice floobs don’t muck things up.”
"Ohh…" Livvi acted impressed. "Was it the man from the announcements? The one who caused a ruckus with the Lion's men? I'm sure putting a face to the warnings we've been issuing will get the town worked up - next thing you'll be up to your armpits in random tips and complaints about rude neighbors in an effort to turn in possible subversives. I would have thought the Cobra's would take the guy quietly and interrogate him for a while."
Then she stops, looks up for a moment, and finishes, "...or maybe they HAVE had him for a while and now want to dispose of him. That sounds more like the Lion's secret police. Anyways, have a good night, Quig. See you in the morning!" Livvi takes her leave and wanders through the darkening streets to her home.
“Can’t say, ta be honest. From tha description though, I don’t think so.” Quig pulled the door shut and locked it. “Some of The Lion’s men bagged o chief conspirator from tha Overlord (Ruler of the City State of the Invincible Overlord) last night. Bloke put up a huge fight while some of his fellow agent’s escaped, or so it’s said. Least ways, one did. He fled over the rooftops, but not before takin’ a bolt to tha head. I suspect he’s lying in some gutter, dead now. Yeah, have a good evenin’.”
For two gold a month, Livvi had secured a modest set of rooms on the second floor of the Whispering Mane Inn, comprised of a study and a small bedroom with an attached privvy. Livvi's collection of books and instruments occupied the study, and her clothes, weapons and travelling gear she kept in the bedroom. Rather sparse for the middle-class image she projected. When she gets home, Livvi opens the window, leans out, and checks the loose brick to the left side of the window. She was looking for the note with coded instructions from her underworld contact, whom she had left the ribbon for this morning. She needed answers that could only be found whispered in the dark alleys and in the mists.
As she retrieved a note with random seeming scribbles and marks on either side there was a light rap on the door. A muffled voice came through the thick wood. “Miss Rahl? Package came for ya while ya was out.” The voice belonged to Hamron Ilkestoon, owner of the Whispering Mane.
"One moment, Master Hamron." Livvi quickly tucked the note into her pocket and headed towards the door, leaving the window open to allow the fresh air into her room. She opened the door to find the man standing there, holding a large, ribbon tied box, with Avgrat’s icon emblazoned in gold leaf on top. “A courier dropped it off. Had ta tip him o silver crown, I did.” Livvi took the package from Hamron and slipped two silver coins into his hand as she did. It was a smooth and practiced move - not unusual for the middle and upper classes to tip people in a manner that was not obvious.
“Would ya like me to send up some supper, miss?” Hamron asked, his wandering eyes lingering on Livvi’s curves. “Some wine, per’aps?”
"Yes, please. some of the stew I smelled when I came in, and some of the chilled blush wine would be marvelous. Thank you, as always you are a most gracious and attentive host." Livvi was really more interested in the coded note in her pocket, but she had a reputation, and appearances, to maintain, and it was uncommon for a young maiden to pass up the 'free' meal that came with her rooms. Livvi smiled at the man and gently closed the door. Obviously Bilina sprung for the red gown and would no doubt extract its value from Livvi in some personal way.
Livvi set the box down on the table and opened it slowly, holding her breath. Obviously Bilina had sprung for the red gown (and would no doubt extract its value from Livvi in some personal way...) Livvi gasped in pleasure and excitement! "Oohh...I am going to have a LOT of fun - and mischief - in this gown!" She takes the silken dress out and hangs it up in her standing dresser to prevent any wrinkles from marring the smooth fabric. She tucks the ribbon and gold leaf tag into a separate drawer, and finally stores the box under her bed for future use. As excited as she was about the dress, the note was silently calling her attention, so the bard will lock the door, sit at the table, and examine the note.
Around the edge were a series of hash marks and circles. Since it was a half-moon tonight and it was the fifth cycle, she found the corresponding marks and folded the paper, so they met. She repeated this several more time, matching marks and circles in the required pattern, until the paper was folded over on itself to reveal words from the seemingly random scribbles. Upon deciphering the code Livvi was confronted with the place of the meet. The Topless Tavern located in Cut Throat Alley down in the Dock Quarter. (It’s listed in the Tarantis city guide ;p) So named because the owner, Lo Ping, didn’t allow anyone in who is wearing a covering of any sort on the upper torso. As a result, it was a favorite hangout for those with body tattoos; a great deal of competition went on in comparing the artistic qualities of the myriad tattoos on display, and none were prouder of his (or her) collection than the owner of the tavern himself. The place was not usually frequented by females, but Lo Ping’s waitresses and barmaids are female, much to the delight of most of the customers. Lo Ping also rented small rooms on the second and third floors of his establishment and, aside from his interest in body art, Lo Ping is very fashion conscious. All his clothes were tailor-made of black silk and always at the height of fashion. Tin Teak – her contact - is an olive-skinned man from the Land's beneath two Moons, with a checkered reputation but few knew more about the workings and goings-on’s in the shadows of the city.
"Tin, you pox-marked boar, I should have known you'd eventually find a way to look at my boobs." Livvi says under her breath. A few minutes later there was another knock on her door - but Livvi could tell it wasn't Hamron Ilkestoon. She tucked the note back into her pocket, walked over to the door, unlocked it, and looked out to see young Neb standing there with her stew, a large slab of dark bread, and a glass of light red wine.
"Da sez ta watch ou' for da crunchy bits in da stew...sumpin' 'bou' yous teeth bein' too purdy to get busted up." The lad of about eight years simply hands her the food on a wooden platter and leaves. He was always a bit shy around her. Livvi laughs a little and sits down to eat, enjoying the food but trying to think of how she could get into the Topless Tavern without being completely exposed. She had about an hour or so to figure it out...
Part of a bard's training is in the theater - learning proper oratory techniques for stages large and small, how to move with grace or as a limping beggar, and the art of transforming your face and body to appear as different characters. These skills were also valuable off-stage, helping some bards to gain access to areas and situations otherwise unavailable to them. Livvi started thinking of the tricks and techniques she knew, trying to find a way to get out of appearing in the rendezvous completely bare from the waist up. She had no tattoos, and clothing was strictly prohibited.
And then it came to her. Of course! The mermaid costume from that black comedy "Barbara Manatee - Mermaid of Misery" could be modified a bit to suit her needs. Instead of tattoos, Livvi would use a combination of body paint and a clever mix of flour, sand, and water to create the impression that she was not naked! It was WAY more risqué than she had ever imagined she would appear in public - it made the thought of wearing the low-cut red dress seem like dressing in a full corset and petticoats! Deception: 25
It took her longer than expected to apply the paint and batter, but when she was done, Livvi felt that she could not have done any more. She pulled her dress over her head - knowing that walking down the streets like this would be scandalous beyond recovery - and headed for the tavern. [Perception roll = 26]
Making a last-minute check of her disguise in the small (yet extravagant) wall mirror that had been a gift from a (admirer or brief paramour?) a strange vision appeared in the background. In the mirror, through the window behind her was the gray lady. She stood a dozen strides away on top of the flat roof of a cheese seller’s shop across the way. Even stranger, Lilita stood, bared to the waist, seemingly having a highly emotional conversation with herself.
<blink> Livvi swirled around at the sight of Lilita half-naked in her mirror, dropping the brush and a piece of slate with the mixed green and blue paint she had been applying to her midsection. <blink> Turning towards the window, two things came immediately to Livvi’s mind. First, the Grey Lady was standing there, half naked, only she wasn’t alone. Looming behind her, the gemstone in his blue turban seeming to flash in the dark mist, was the noblemonster. <blink> Now seeing the horrible noble from last night in control of the lady, Livvi frowns in confusion. <blink> She spins around and looks in the mirror again, but the man was no longer there in the reflection - only the Gray Lady. <blink> Around again and looking right at them through her open window Livvi plainly sees the man and the woman. As she watched one of his arms went around the girl’s waist while he snarled and moved as if he meant to bite her. <blink> "NO!" she screamed silently in her mind.
The puzzle pieces started falling into place in her mind. Investigation: 8 <blink> A man who could charm women, even one with elven blood. <blink> A man with tremendous wealth and insatiable lusts. <blink> A man who could disappear in the blink of an eye. <blink> A man whose reflection could not be seen in a mirror. <blink> A man about to bite the exposed neck of Lilita. <blink> In the space of a few heartbeats, all of this raced through Livvi's mind, and the adrenaline again coursed through her veins. Mixed with the rush was the power of her magic, straining to be let loose to wreak her will upon the world. Livvi could not contain the words that sprang from her mouth as she ran to the window, grabbing her rapier from the corner next to the bed as she went. She wished she had Bilina's wand - but knew that she had to do something with what she had now. <blink>
Even as she aimed for the window with a running leap a dark figure dropped seemingly out of nowhere next to Lilita and the Vampire. He gave a mocking bow than blew a sharp whistle. For a moment the dark stranger seemed to reach out for the Grey Lady but Lilita shook her head ever so slightly even as her hand slipped into that of the noble monsters. From somewhere nearby came a shower of bolts. One skipped off the Vampire’s arm and spiraled out of view. The other’s missed. Men were shouting. As her leap carried her across the short space between the inn and the cheesemonger’s rooftop Livvi caught more excitement in the alley below. A knight on horseback bellowed, ““In the name of The Lion, surrender your arms and be questioned!” s fast as he arrived the dark stranger rushed off, leaving Lilita and the others to their fate.
A sound erupted from the bard's throat - not at all human - full of rage and dissonance and pain and hate. The words barely discernible over the awful vocal harmonies coming from somewhere. She focused every bit of these dissonant whispers on the creature she was now convinced was a vampire. "Get away from her, you bastard!" (Casting Dissonant Whispers at 2nd level. 10 psychic damage, or half if he makes a DC13 WIS Save <> Vampire’s Will 13 > GM Roll 5, fails = takes 10 psychic damage]
A roar of anger came from the noble monster, more out of rage at her audacity than from the actual damage. The Vampire wheeled around to face Livvi and in doing so, revealed himself fully to the crossbowmen who shouted warnings even as they fired at a volley at him and Lilita. One shot so close to the Grey Lady as to further damage her ragged dress. Another struck the beast but left no mark of damage.
“Kill you all!” the vampire raged.
Down in the street the knight could be heard dismounting and issuing orders for someone to fetch the nearest priests – and the City Watch (Note: In her brief glass Livvi recognizes the devices the men-at-arms are wearing, denoting them members of the Blackhearts, an Elite company from one of The Lion’s Royal Army.)
There were several things that tried to occupy Livvi's mind in those few moments...the noble revealed for what he truly was. The poor, tragic life of Lilita. The strange, hooded man who had done almost as much as Livvi to save Lilita's life. The Blackhearts appearing from nowhere. But the one thought that won out was the imminent danger she and Lilita were in. A small, rational part of her brain whispered into the tumultuous chaos of her mind - "Get away."
This whisper managed to quiet every other thought long enough for Livvi to drop her rapier and run towards the girl as she goes over the side like stepping off a short curb. Livvi takes three long strides and goes over the side of the building with the Grey Lady, shouting an arcane word. (casting Feather Fall) [GM roll for grapple: Livvi’s 16+3=19 vs. Lilita’s 10+2-12 > Livvi’s successful//Using Dex(acrobatics as the base for both characters)].
Even as Livvi’s thoughts whisper in her mind the Grey Lady blinks and whispers, "fight them or save me," she says simply as without looking as she jumps off the roof-top half a step ahead of Livvi’s courageous dive.
The two ladies drift to the ground, stepping lightly onto the cobblestones in front of the knight on his large horse as if they were coming down a staircase instead of falling over 30 feet. "Please protect us - I think that creature is a vampire!" Livvi calls out so all can hear. She then helps to place Lilita's dress back on to cover her naked upper body, completely forgetting that she is herself naked except for some paint, dried flour and sand, and a now-ripped pencil skirt sewn with shiny bits like fish scales...
For a moment her father figure stands at the edge of the roof gazing down at them with blood shot eyes, bolt’s whizzing around or bouncing off him. One becomes tangled in the blue turban. Around her, the Grey Lady is staring back up at the vampire with a strange look in her eyes; the knight is shouting orders as more floobs arrive. Some locals, drawn to the commotion, other’s City Guard, then as they watch the vampire’s form wavers as he, too, steps off the edge, only to morph into a large bat that races off, into the dark mist.
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Mordecai's story continues...
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“Hmmm… May I see it?”
Gorandan Talis had all the stereotypical looks of an old wizard. Long beard streaked with grey and white, bushy eyebrows to match, and dressed in a set of robes decorated by magical wards and glyphs. More of a hedge wizard than an archwizard, Talis had spent a good portion of his life adventuring to far off lands and mysterious places. Closing on ninety, the wizard’s days were spent puttering around the small townhouse he owned in the Sage’s Quarter training birds, or so it was said when Mordecai made some describe inquires and was pointed in Talis’ direction. While old, the wizard’s mind was sharp and possessed enough ready magic to be dangerous if provoked.
"You've seen several lifetimes worth of adventure, haven't you?" Mordecai asks as respectfully as he can, while he hands the wand over.
Accepting the wand, the old wizard smiled. “Oh yes. I have seen the fire pits of Fornax and traveled to the edge of the world. Which turned out to be rather anti climatic once the cloud cover broke revealing the edge was really just the beginning of a colossal canyon, beyond which lay the fabled Jungles of Greanor where dragon like creatures from the time before time still exist.”
Mordecai gives a low whistle as an expression of wonderment spreads across his face.
Handling the slender, crystal tipped wand with care the old wizard peered at it carefully. Talis’ didn’t ask where Mordecai had gotten it, nor under what conditions. Mumbling under his breath he passes a wrinkled, spotted hand over the wand causing it to glow a soft violet.
“The wand displays properties of the elements, particularly lightning,” the old wizard said. “Without attempting to use it I would think it is lightning magic, yes. Elvish crafted as well, mmm, yes.”
He returns the wand.
"So, it's a wand that spews forth lightning magic? Interesting. Is it something I could use, or must one be trained in the arcane? How do I use it?" Mordecai asks as he looks at the wand carefully.
“To answer the first question, yes. The second question is a bit more complex,” replied the old wizard. “For one trained in the arcane arts; who possesses the proper phrase or command word, then using a wand is as simple or simpler as using the same sort of spell direction. But not all wands work this way. The more powerful the magics within in the more specific the conditions must be for their use. Some non-practitioners of the arcane are known to develop a knack or skill for using such things, probably more because of handling such items of power than from becoming attuned. From personal experience I have seen inexperienced floobs pick up a wand and toy with it long enough to accidently cause it to discharge, but I suspect that it would be a case by case basis. Meaning, depends on the level of the magic imbuing the wand or simple dumb luck.” [GM Notes: I reviewed 5E’s rules on using magical devices and see that they tightened up the requirements. However, as I’ve said before, I am more partial to 3.5 rules. So, anyone can use a wand with third level (or lower) spells following the 3.5 rules. Use Magical Device increases target number required to activate. Without Use Magical Device it takes a straight 20 for success. Failure (aside from a natural 1) simply means the PC looks – goofy, waving and flicking the wand around. A natural 1 can cause a misfire, with unknown results]
“That wand, as best as I can estimate, is good for eighteen (18) uses and has a street value of, oh, say, twenty platinum, give or take.”
"Oh, could you also take a look at this?" Mordecai asks as he produces the ring. He then continues “The bloke who found it said it might be magical given all the runes on it."
Holding the ring in his palm Talis repeated the spell he had used on the wand, causing it to glow softly. “Hmm, yes… Elvish craft work, yes. An interesting item, hmmm. It appears to protect the wearer from certain kinds of mental powers, such as preventing someone from reading your thoughts, detecting if your lying, or your leanings (alignment). This sort of device is often called a Ring of Mind Shielding. Quite valuable to the right floobs. I’d hazard the street value at four or five hundred platinums.” He handed the ring back.
Mordecai takes off one of his gloves, puts on the ring on whichever finger it fits and puts the glove back on. He nods at Gorandan, then asking, "Do I have to do something to get it to start working for me?"
“No, no, not with this kind of magic. Simply wearing the ring is enough. It’ll take a day or two before attuning to you, though.”
"Thank you, kindly, Mr. Talis. Here's your fee," Mordecai tells him as he hands over the two gold crowns that they had agreed upon. "If there's anything I could do for you, let me know."
Mordecai explains to Gorandan Talis how he can be reached, if so desired and expresses his desire to see that he hopes to bring him more and better business in the future.
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Jacob's story continues...
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Later in the afternoon…
Wound tended and healing, some sleep under his belt and the awareness of a chance meeting aiding his escape from some determined pursuers, Holden heads to the Eight Star to meet with the raven-haired beauty and exchange the wooden vial for a nice pouch of gold.
Sitting midway along Trollhraun Row, a side street cutting through the worst part of the Poor Quarter, the Eight Star Bar was a bawdy place with a vile reputation. Cheap drinks and cheap customers, most of which were either recovering from an all-night bender or winding up for one as the evening hours approached. Fairly large as bars went, there was a stage in one corner. Empty for now, but Holden was familiar enough with the establishment to know that would change come sunset. The owner, one Lep Stax was rumored to be well connected with the local underworld, some rumors even suggesting that he headed a powerful thieves guild. Other, more dangerous rumors were circulating that there were, perhaps, even darker things in play at the Eight Star. Things that could get a person killed, if they weren’t careful. Like the raven-haired beauty sitting casually at a table near the bar.
Bilina whose last name few knew, was sipping a rich (for the Eight Star) wine and watching him as he approached. “Nice to see you again, Jacob. Did you have any problems?”
"I don't suppose you're talking about my broken heart, Bilina." They had been playing this little game since a while now. But alas, it was mostly just a game to break the ice between two professionals. Though Holden wouldn't really have minded the literal breaking of his heart, if it was by the hands of this raven-haired beauty. And it would probably indeed happen one of these days, if he kept working her looks-easy-but-will-actually-get-you-into-a-whole-lot-of-trouble jobs. Jacob pulled up a chair, the back of it in front of him, leaning his elbows on it, appearing an empty shot glass that he had nicked from a nearby table, cleaning it summarily with one of his sleeves. He put it on the table, smiling his shady but not entirely unkempt smile at Bilina. He had paid attention in the trimming of his beard for this occasion, and he was confident that the healing crossbow injury across his temple would only add to his roguish mystique. Women liked a man with scars, or so he told himself.
"Mind if I'm sharing in your drink?" Jacob pushed the empty shot glass towards Bilina with one hand, while the other set a pouch containing the merchandise requested by the femme fatale near the half full bottle of Eight Star vintage. This way Bilina could naturally reach towards him and collect the pouch on her way back, and eventually hand over recompense, without drawing too much unwanted attention.
With a coy smile Bilina pours him a shot straight from the glass in her hand. Her other hand first went to push back a long strand of her blue-black hair than casually came forward to brush her fingers against the pouch.
As they met halfway, Holden kept his hands firmly on the pouch, looking the raven-haired beauty straight into her blue eyes, and whispered "I'm a thief, not a murderer, just remember next time. You might have a certain Widow looking for the same exact merchandise, also a whole lot of trigger happy Blackheart floobs out and about yesterday night, but I decided to bring it straight back to you instead—without any whys, ands or buts—I'm a keeper like that."
Holden winked once in what he would've thought being a terribly charming and flirtatious manner, leaning back smoothly against nothing, the back of his chair actually being in front of him, holding one of the pommels of the chairs' recline in his leathery gloved hand, the other sipping freshly poured bitter wine out of his smeary shot glass. It could've been poison as far he cared, the wild and at the same time somehow sophisticated scent of Bilina’s' hair alone was already intoxicatingly worth it. "The things men will do for what they clearly are not meant to get."
At that a girlish titter escaped her lush lips. “Always a charmer, Jacob,” she said with another laugh. One that held a hint of naughty promise. “And handsome to boot. I – oh, but you’ve been hurt!” She sets her glass down and reaches over to lightly touch the healing wound. “From all your references I take it that things became complicated.” She winced slightly, her lips forming a little bow of displeasure.
“I am sorry about that. I asked for your services because I knew that you would succeed where others wouldn’t. That the Blackhearts were sent out was…unexpected. It’s like using a cleaver when a paring knife is called for.” She shook her head. Hand still on the pouch Bilina brushed the lacquered nail of her pinky against Holden’s wrist. “Such bravery, and skill, no less. You escaped, obviously. Of all the Royal Guard, the Blackhearts are the most tenacious about such things. Widow? – “her silky tone took on a hint of steel – “Did she stick her warty nose into this biz?”
"She didn't meddle directly; a Halfling was sent instead. Mighty good curser, too. Guildless by her own admittance, the little fella' even came clean with her employer after some improvised games involving a rope, the bed-foot and a trunk were played. Maybe I'll get to show you one day, it's a long story." Holden nursed the shot-glass between his fingers, though it was not intended for wine, sometimes in life you simply had to drink from the cup you were given. He downed a good bit of the bitter wine, tasting the sun of its' grapes on his tongue and imagining that same sun caressing Bilinas' naked body. Her voice shook him from his secret revelry not much unlike the sting of a whip waking a daydreaming slave. This was a job, and the woman before him very much out of his league, or as likely to get him killed, Jacob had to remind himself.
“Halfling you say. Slim, curly hair with a bit of a pert nose? Sounds like Elina Perky, terrible name, I know, but with Halflings, who knows,” Bilina wrinkled her nose slightly as she made a face. “Never met a Halfling who didn’t have a dozen names, surnames, and nicknames. Well, at least she didn’t try to steal you.” Whether the raven-haired beauty was talking about The Widow or The Halfling, she didn’t say.
"No, I'll be doing all the necessary stealing of hearts and other assorted goods 'round here, if you please." Holden smiled his trademark shady and more than a touch naive smile again, planning to down the rest of his vintage after raising the half empty shot glass towards Bilina. "Though, as you say, the night air is getting very brisk as of late; bolts and bats do make rooftops a rather dangerous place." And there it was. The cat was out of the bag. The not-so-subtle subtle hint at cost and subsequently demand for more work, the vague implication of a raise. This was usually where all pretense of flirtation would cease, a tiny paper with specifics about the next target switch sides from under the table, and Jacob get back to living his recluse and lonely lifestyle of theft and premeditation. People he dealt with did usually not pay him for smarmy conversation, even less so Bilina. He knew his place.
In the middle of signaling a barmaid to bring another bottle of wine and two glasses Bilina’s slender eyebrow arches. She turns back and cocks her head in confusion. “Bats?”
Holden put down his now emptied shot glass. "Yep. The kind of bat you'll find in fairy tale. The kind of fairy tale ending with canines piercing holes into a virgins' jugulars, and of bloody fountains springing up under the moons' uncaring smile." Then he swiped some of the remaining red wine off of his lips and onto his bracer, swiftly adding "Or so I've read in one of those cheap novels lying about at The Garnet Hand while waiting for an audience with the boss-lady." Jacob grimaced, slightly embarrassed at the confession of being a consumer of harlequin literature.
For a moment the woman looked uncomfortable, not shocked, than quickly recovered her composure as the wine and glasses arrived. Waiting for the barmaid to move out of earshot she shakes her head.
“There’s been…other incidents of late. People gone missing or turning up, mind changed if you will. Missing time from their memories.”
"There's nothing that won't happen -or hasn't already happened- in Tarantis, isn't it?" Holden silently wondered if all this wine was going to get detracted from his pay, or if he had hit some sort of nerve to warrant the suspiciously nice treatment.
Pouring for both Bilina’s sigh is deep and almost melancholy. “I don’t know how much of the city’s history you know, and I concede that it’s vast, considering it’s age, but this…infestation…seems to keep coming around. There was a dark time, or so the sage’s have said, when Tarantis was ruled by a coven of such beats. Sanguisuge, they were called. Some say that the Sanguisuge were never fully rooted out, only that they slipped deeper into the cracks and are still around.” The raven-haired beauty shuddered slightly and lifted her glass to her lips for a sip.
"What happens in Tarantis, stays in Tarantis." Jacob was enjoying this far too much. The only thing missing to make it all perfect would have been a plate of cheese. Thinking of it, he was already getting into his second cup of wine, had no breakfast to soak up the alcohol, and it was the middle of the afternoon. Bilina was bad influence. Gorgeous and will-get-you-oh-so-killed bad influence. Holden mirrored her drinking gesture.
The pouch was still sitting on the table between them. Bilina gave a soft snort then caught Holden’s eyes with her own. They were deep pools of rich blue. “You’re the best at recovering items, Jacob. How good are you at depositing them?”
Jacob sipped another generous sip from his glasses' vintage, slowly and deliberately swallowing it, grinning at Bilina only slightly as the healing injury on his temple flared. "That's why I run with the Garnet Hands. They often need types like me. But that's no news to you. If you're mentioning it, I bet that you already have some good way in mind of how to use me." The meaning written between the lines was rather obvious and gauche, but that wasn't the real implication. Their little flirting game had resumed, and that meant further business was afoot. "One of these nights you're going to get me killed, Bilina." Holden joked, but was being completely honest and unfiltered for the very first time since they started the conversation. "Me or somebody else. Is it?"
Light seemed to sparkle in her eyes. “For now, somebody else – “
Jacob made a gesture as if to stop the solicited answer. "I don't really have to or want to know who exactly stuck their hands in which wrong honey jar and now needs to be punished for it, with whatever deadly thing that vial is containing, but you should know that the Garnet Hands are go-getters, not undertakers. That's more in the pursue of the Night Stalkers, and I have left them a long time ago for this very reason." Holden caressed some of the curls in his beard that he had inherited from his father and mentor, a Night Stalker himself, as he continued "I can be your courier, your bed warmer, your errand boy, heck I'll even be your door mat-" Jacob said this last thing with much more seriously than might be warranted "But I'm not an assassin. You knew this when we entered in a relationship." Holden went back to a more flirtatious tone. He smiled, but it was completely out of place.
Leaning back like a cat half curled up in a comfortable chair, Bilina’s smile was almost Cheshire. “Some things are best never talked about. An adage comes to mind that if you want to keep a secret, don’t tell anybody and it holds true, mostly anyway. But there’s secrets, and there’s secrets.” As she spoke the raven-haired beauty pulled a short, red wax candle and set it on the table near the center. With a casual gesture of her fingers the wick flickered then glowed with a small, reddish light. Around them the sounds of conversation and tavern noise grew silent.
“I can understand your hesitation, truly I do. Assassination is necessary, at times, and there masters of that craft. Even so, every action can result in a death, no matter how hard one tries to avoid being the butterfly. Garse has an appointment with the headsman’s ax in the morning, thankfully that” – her pinky waved at the pouch – “wasn’t in his possession when he was pinched. That may save a life or too. Anyway, there are always plots in the works. In fact, I know of a man over in the Merchant Quarter whose consorting with a Demon and plotting an attack on The Lion. So, why haven’t the Blue Cobra’s or some other organization kicked in his door? Because others want to know how he found a demon in the first place and rather or not said demon is what we think it is. What sort of plot is this assassination plot a cover for? That sort of thing. Like this thing, we suspect a lot, and know little, and want to know more. So that sometimes means creating a little controlled chaos or baiting someone’s hand. Soooo many plots and schemes in this ancient city of ours.” She reached up and plucked a ruby from her choker and set it on the table between the two of them. An educated guess puts the value at ten platinum crowns (100 gold). “Before I forget, your payment. I hope you don’t mind but –“
Jacob had already swiped the gem from off the table, like a greedy magpie blinded and now flying too fast at something shiny, no matter the danger. The candle between them was flickering in a very lively manner, because of the air movement, or perhaps a far more occult reason.
As Holden was (eyeing/handling) the gem Bilina smiled as she sipped her wine. “It’s nothing like sticking a knife into someone’s back, Jacob. No, what I’m wanting is someone to slip that object” – her eyes flicked towards the pouch and the vial it contained – “into the belongings of a particular floob. It’d be worth another gem like that.”
Jacob answered, far too distractedly "Agreed, there is a huge degree of difference in between pouring the vials contents into someone’s' nightcap and slipping it into a pocket to get an implication." Holden disappeared the gem into his leathers, like a street magician. "My father always said that I talked too much. Yeah. Daddy issues." Jacob was joking, but his eyes really weren't. "Let's be a bad boy, maybe something good comes out of it." He grinned at his conversation partner, this time genuinely. "What pocket, and is there a time frame?" Holden also swiped the pouch containing the wooden vial. He accepted Bilinas' new offer, the rest of that afternoon was history.
“Oh, you are unquestionably a bad boy,” she teased. “Sometime in the next day or so will do. It’ll probably take you some time to track this one down since he’s on the move a lot.” Bilina proceeded to describe a tall, muscular Half-Orc. “He’s a bounty hunter, or so he says.”
Holden kept tracing and retracing the rim of his empty wineglass with his annular finger "Aren't they all tall and muscular? Your victims, Bilina. Do I have to be jealous of this one? What could a lowly Half-Orc possibly have done to deserve such attention from you?" — Or a lowly apartment rat such as me, for instance, he added, but exclusively in thinking. That fresh scar must've been really working out for him in ways he could possibly not have imagined. If only he'd known before, he would've jumped into a wood-chipper.
Bilina waves it off absently. “Dose it matters why?” Tossing down the last of her wine the raven-haired beauty stands and gives herself a stretch. Her eyes half hidden behind her long eyelashes she grins, the tip of her tongue touching briefly against her upper lip. “Shall we go somewhere and see just how much of a bad boy you are, or you eager to chase down that next gem?”
Jacob grinned a somewhat sheepish grin as he extended his hand "The stage music isn't supposed to start playing until sundown." the implication of whatever they were going to be doing being very loud gave space to a rather wolfish smile on both of their faces.
Offering her arm Bilina’s laugh is both wicked and innocent sounding. “Oh, I’m sure Stax won’t mind, it is an Inn after all,” she teased as she stirred him towards the stairs.
And the music upstairs started. Later, well into the twilight hours, also the music downstairs joined with the unceasing crescendo and staccato.
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Lilita's story continues...
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Livvi looks at Lilita, holding her by the shoulders and staring deep into her eyes. "Lilita, snap out of it. That 'man' was a vampire, and you were enthralled by him. Don't worry, you are safe - for now. Come, let's get you inside and away from these staring eyes."
Lilita stares back into Livvi's eyes, "I don't feel enthralled m' lady nor was I in any danger. Thank you though for your concern."
Without letting her go, Livvi faces the knight. "Good sir, thank you for your timely appearance. As you can see, Tarantis faces a new threat, one more sinister and pressing than any other! Direct your men as you wish, then join the Grey Lady and me in The Whispering Mane and I will tell you everything." And without waiting for his acknowledgement, much less his permission, Livvi walked towards the Inn with Lilita in tow.
Lilita turns and looks at Livvi, "m' lady... with all due respect my name is Lilita, not the Grey Lady." Looking up at the knight, Lilita respectfully curtsies, "good evening m' lord."
“Miss – “The knight’s protest gone ignored caused the man to swear under his breath. Around him chaos reigned. They heard him call over a senior man-at-arms and issue a series of orders. Restore order, gather up everyone for questioning, and have someone up on the roof do a thorough search. He also dispatched a squad to see if they could pick up the trail of the dark stranger, unlikely as that might be.
Livvi commandeers a private room downstairs, not willing to let others into her private rooms upstairs. She orders a pot of strong tea and three cups, then waits for the knight and his inevitable questions. "Lilita, how did you end up with that monster? When did he enchant you? How did you get on the roof? Are you still under his spell?"
Lilita looks about the lovely room Livvi has brought her to with interest, "this is a very nice place you have here m' lady you are most fortunate in your circumstances but to answer your question the noble gentleman came to my master's shop right after you left. And, no, he did not enchant me, at least I do not feel enchanted, do I seem enchanted to you? The noble gentleman invited me to accompany him and I accepted his invitation. He brought me to the roof to look upon your room and you inside. He is very taken with you and knows you have been making inquiries and asking questions about him and I think he is none too happy about it. Perhaps you should consider putting a stop to your inquiries about him as I am greatly concerned about your safety though I also get the impression is very much attracted to your great flawless beauty but then what man isn't? Still, if I were you, I would be careful, your beauty alone may not stay his hand if you continue on such a path."
Livvi looked at her for a moment.
Lilita shakes her head as she remains totally calm, cool and collected not at all afraid or anxious, "no, m' lady, as I said before when you asked earlier, I am not under any magical influence. Well, not since earlier today but that your magic, not his. But do not worry, I am not angry or cross with you m' lady, I know you were intent on helping me. I appreciate that I really do, thank you m' lady for your kindness but you need not be concerned for me or my safety, the noble gentleman would not have done me any harm... in any event."
"Look - stay here and answer the Blackheart's questions. I have something I have to do. Stay away from the monster - he means nothing good for you!" With that, Livvi sighs and wraps a linen shawl around her torso, hiding her bareness and body paint then, after a careful glance, walked out of the room, leaving Lilita alone, but not for long. The clink of metal proceeded the knight’s arrival. He held his helmet under one arm, revealing a middle-aged man with dark hair and a short-trimmed beard.
“Where’s the elf maid?”
Lilita looked up the knight more than a little frightened of him... fear showing on her innocent young face... her eyes downcast, her voice trembling is low, almost a whisper, "I am very sorry m' lord but I don't know? Mistress Livvi was here a moment ago and commanded me to remain without telling me where she was going or when she would return. I worry for her safety and fearful she went after... you know... him."
Lilita jumped in her chair in fright as the knight began to swear! Pulling her legs upward hunching forward in the chair as if to hold herself tightly... her arms wrapped around her legs!
“Where did the Night Shadow go?!”
Her eyes tearing up Lilita looks shyly up at the knight, "who is the night shadow? Do you mean my noble gentleman? I'm sorrrrry," she stammers in confusion and fear.
“Are you in league with…him? He was seen leaving the flat of a wanted enemy of The Lion.”
Lilita whimpers, tears begin to fall down her cheeks, "I don't know... I think he might be my father or was, like in my dreams. I wish, I hope! I don't know. I only met him the other night in the clothing shop. Mistress Livvi was there too, she tried on the most exquisite gown that I have ever seen asking his opinion about it. She is so beautiful and exotic, isn't she? Not plain and common like me. Mistress Livvi is like a fey goddess from the fairy stories. So beautiful, so strong and confident, able to bend men to her will as if by magic but you know that, she ordered you about like a Grand Princess. And he was kind to me, the noble gentleman... he offered to buy a pair of beautiful slippers for me. I sorry m' lord but I know nothing about enemies to his Majesty the Lion."
The man hesitated, then added, “…and that – that other fellow? The one screaming and threatening everyone? Are you with him?”
Lilita tilts her head to the side a little confused, "other fellow, screaming and threatening..." She repeats! "Oh, forgive me m' lord that is my noble gentleman. The other one, the one fleeing from the soldiers, is that who you call the night shadow? I never before saw him before m' lord until he ran up to us as if to take me away from my noble gentleman, but I refused his hand, he was a stranger to me and I knew deep down that my noble gentleman did not intend me any harm. I felt safe in his arms. The man who was fleeing, I don't know him, perhaps Mistress Livvi is acquainted with that fellow, I really could not say one way or another as I don't really know her all that well, but she has been very kind to me. No one is ever kind to a poor girl like me. As I said, I only first encountered her at the clothing shop recently."
The knight slammed his helmet down onto the tabletop before leaning over Lilita, his slate colored eyes boring in on her. “The Night Shadow seemed to know you and…your…male friend” – the man seemed unwilling to admit that her father was what he was.
Lilita's entire body shook... frightened out of her wits, intimidated to the point of utter confusion, "I am sorry m' lord but I do not ever recall meeting him before, perhaps you are right, perhaps he knew my noble gentleman or Mistress Livvi, I cannot answer for either of them m' lord. I know not. If I did, I would tell you, I swear by the goddess."
Standing straight, the knight crossed over to the door and kicked it shut. “I’m going to get some answers here, or they’ll be hell to pay, miss. Consorting with enemy agents of The Lion; possibly even” – once again the man seemed unwilling to speak the word – “whatever that was,” he muttered. “Had to be a magic trick, that last part. Wizards like that sort of bunk.”
The violent kick and the sound of the door slamming shut cause Lilita to scream in fear... she panics, "please m' lord do not hurt me. If it please you m' lord then yes, I am guilty and confess to everything you wish. Tell me what to say and I will say it! Are the dungeons cold this time of year or will you march me straight to the executioner to take my head then?" She whimpers and cries, "I thought my noble gentleman would save me when I jumped. I thought he would take me away and tell me about my mother but he left me... Mistress Livvi left me too... so I am ready m' lord, take me to the dungeons to be tortured and killed, it is what I deserve don't you think?"
“Like as not it’ll be the stocks in traitor’s square,” snarled the knight as he slowly circled Lilita’s chair. His hard eyes boring down on her with open contempt. “Lies, deceivers, pulling japes at the Lion’s expense. Let The Lion’s subjects punish you as you deserve.” The man stopped behind her, out of view. “Goddess? That Fey ***** is some goddess? Just what sort of conspiracy are you part of, miss? Well, I can tell you, The Lion’s on to your game, whatever it is, and it will not be allowed to bear fruit. The Night Shadow, this father of yours, and the Fey goddess, all of you.”
Lilita just blinks in fear and confusion, the only sound she makes is a low whimper...
“Lie’s won’t save you, girl.” The knight’s armored fist hammered the tabletop next to Lilita. “What’s the connection with this Garse the Gaffer fellow? We know through reliable sources that he masterminded this whole disgraceful plot though he’s crying he was duped, that he doesn’t know anything other than a young woman paid him handsomely for his services. Are you her?! Tell me true!”
Lilita jumps again her chair as the knight's fist hammers the table. She struggles to think for a moment and asks politely, "I don't know m' lord is he the old man that sells apples in my neighborhood. We just call him the Gaffer; I didn't know his name was Garse, but it suits him, I think. Yes, I paid him for his apples of course but I would not call it paying him handsomely, I am a good girl but a poor one, I pay my debts and sometimes use my skills to ease his aches and pains, so he gives me a discount. Is that what you mean? Then yes I guess I am."
After saying that Lilita suddenly has a revelation or rather a beginning of an idea and a plan. She looks up at the knight drying her tears, "m' lord thank you for taking the time to speak to me. Our conversation has been most enlightening. You have been most helpful and a font of information, but I fear I just remembered a prior engagement. So, if you don't mind, I must ask your intentions. I mean, will you be letting me go now... with just a firm warning or sending off to the stocks in traitor’s square? Either is fine for me... really though, I can work with either one of those but could we please hurry things along now so I can toddle on off to my appointment or how about this. Say you let me go now and I promise to turn myself into someone in charge of the stocks in traitor’s square, say first thing in the morning? Is that agreeable m' lord?"
“Apples?! He’s a baker’s assistant! You – wait, what? Intentions,” he asks incredulously. “You bloody well know my intentions. I mean to get to the bottom of all this.” Beginning to pace the room the knight clanked with each step. “First I’m ordered to take a troop and apprehend a dangerous assassin and his confederates, only one escapes and leads us to you and that… that madman friend of yours, then some fey goddess – a overpriced whore more likely, jumps in and both of you use magic to keep from smashing your heads on the pavers. I – “
Lilita, as the knight gets more worked up and distracted... pacing about, sees her chance and attempts to cast a Sleep spell on him ((using a second level spell slot affecting 7d8 HP and uses a Font of Magic Sorcerer Spell Point Metamagic Extended Spell: When you cast a spell that has a duration of 1 minute or longer, you can spend 1 sorcery point to double its duration, to a maximum duration of 24 hours.) Result = 39 HP total, Knight has 36)
The man sways slightly than sinks to his knees in a rattle of metal and slumps against the wall beside the door and starts to snore.
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