Just off fish monger’s row, Cut Throat Alley wasn’t hard to find, nor was The Topless Tavern. The tavern was marked by a hand carved man’s torso heavily painted with colorful tattoos mounted above the door. No, finding the place wasn’t hard, not for Livvi who’d spent a lot of time learning the lesser streets and alleys of the city whenever she had time to spare, but dodging the grasping fingers of leering, half drunken males, was another story. The shawl did little to cover the ripped pencil skirt sewn with shiny bits like fish scales clinging to her hips or her bare belly. One rip had opened a daring slit in the skirt that went right up to the waist that opened every time she swung her hip. More than a few whistled or catcalled while several tried to detain the Half-Elf in attempts to discern her going rates.
After the whole vampire incident, the half-elf was in quite a foul mood. She ignored most of the floobs staggering about in the dark streets, knowing they were harmless drunks who couldn't help but gawk at her beauty. But the ones who stood in her way and tried to detain or slow her were met with harsh, biting comments and a magical blow to their psyche if they did not leave off... (Livvi will liberally cast Vicious Mockery on anyone who truly pisses her off! The intent is only to clear a path and let her get to the tavern unmolested...) "Get out of my way, you antiquated stain!" "Gah, what is that stench?" "You are a dizzy-eyed flatfooted dunker who has pissed himself one too many times...move on!"
At the entrance to the tavern Livvi paused and looked inside. The place was crowded with a trio of musician’s playing in the far corner. Pipe weed and other, less identifiable aromas created a smoky haze near the ceiling and bawdy laughter and conversation flooded her sensitive ears. It didn’t take long to locate her contact who was sharing a small table near the musicians with a heavily tattooed man with bulging muscles, olive skin, and dark, almond shaped eyes. "There he is..." Livvi thought to herself and started to move towards her contact.
Before crossing half the room Livvi is accosted by a brute of a Dwarf. One gray eye, one yellow, a pug nose that was thickened by numerous scars. He wore his beard in a thick braid, festooned with small copper rings. Thick muscles packed the Dwarf’s torso and arms, corded and heavily tanned, there was a huge tattoo sleeve on both arms depicting graphic scenes involving Centaurs cavorting with Elven maids. Clearly deep into his cups, the Dwarf nearly lifted her off her feet as he pulled her onto his lap. “’er now, missy, we’re ye be a goin’, eh? C’ome, now an’ sit ‘ere with ole Mardiat. Ain’t no slob in dis ‘ere joint gotta bigger staff fer ya to admire, hah! ‘ard as stone an just as rough, hah!”
Still in a mood, but not wanting to start an incident twenty seconds into the night, Livvi bites back her initial response - to slap, or stab, the presumptuous dwarf. Instead, she rolls her eyes and decides to play a different tune. "Ah, master dwarf, do you not recall what flowing water does to a hard rock? It eats away at it, bit by bit, until it is nothing, but small gravel scattered along a hundred miles of stream beds. This mermaid is more than you can handle..." Livvi attempts to stand and continue towards her mark, who by now has noticed her and turned to watch the show. The man is obviously enjoying her predicament.
Mardiat the Dwarf blows a raspberry, his powerful arms pulling her back down onto his lap so she could admire his ‘rough and stony staff’. Reaching for a pouch at his belt the Dwarf leers and winks, slobbering slightly on her. “See? Me got’s coin an’ more ta share with a play pretty like yerself! Me likes o’ bit o’ tha’ Elvish, hee!”
"What the hell..." Livvi thinks to herself. [Sleight of Hand: 22 <> Mardiat’s perception check 20] She squirms a bit on the dwarf's lap to distract him, and tries to relive him of the money pouch. She kisses his cheek and says, "I appreciate your interest in my grace and form..." then stands up and slaps him, "...but that's for implying that I can be bought like some whore."
Glaring at her for a moment, the Dwarf than bursts out in laughter and winks. “Aye, yer o’ fine, fiery lass an’ more. J’us remember, Mardiat o’ Clan Stonestaff’s always got an’ electrum fer o’ fine fey kitty such as yourself, hee!”
Livvi winks at Mardiat as she turns and walks over to her target. She bends down, rubs her breasts against his shoulder and whispers in his ear, "This will cost you, Timmy...let's go. We have something to discuss." She straightens up, curling her fingers around his ear and walks off to the back of the tavern, looking for a private room or at least a secluded table where they can talk.
Timmy winked at his companion before standing and following her with an admiring grin. The Dwarf’s pouch in hand, Livvi located an empty private room at the back, one of three, kept by the tavern owner. The room was small, furnished with a padded bench along the back wall, a round table set close to the floor, and a single smoking lantern sitting in the middle. The door had a wooden cross bar that could be dropped in place for additional privacy.
“Ahh lassy, I’ve always known you love me,” the rogue said with a foreign (Asian) tenor. Closing the door behind them, Timmy leans his bare back against the wood and openly leers at her costume. “Such perk, ahahahhaa.”
"So this little pleasure," she indicates her body painted torso, "will be your payment for tonight's meeting. Understood?!" she says with a tone that clearly indicates that she will not accept any other terms. Before he can even respond, she continues to tell him about the disappearances of several merchants or their daughters, the strange case of the silversmith's daughter and her current malaise, how she was found wandering the streets buck naked behind the Black Rose, and the complete and sordid tale of Lilita and the vampire she had just escaped.
At the first part the man from the land of two moons looked disappointed then his expression changed to look troubled. “Vampires are nothing to toy with,” Timmy said with a frown. “And…?”
"So, what I need to know from your sources is, what do they know of the disappearances and vampires. Are they all related, or are these separate events with different culprits? I need specifics on any other missing persons, or any girls who have been found wandering aimlessly in the dark with no memory of where they have been. You know me, Timmy...I didn't want to get back into this game, but I'm trying to protect the girls in this part of the city. Also, what do you hear about a possible hanging in the next few days? Some agent that was captured recently after a big dust-up? Is it anyone you know?"
“You’re not asking for much, are you.” He gave a short laugh lacking any humor before going over to sit on the padded bench and eyeing her sideways. “Your assuming that my associates can answer even a tenth of what your asking. After all, the Night Stalker’s (one of four thieves guilds in the city) don’t exactly allow the Sanguisuge to join our ranks. They, if they exist at all, I assume, would have an agenda of their own.” Timmy frowns again. “If it is the Sanguisuge, then you wouldn’t need to do much investigating when it comes to disappearances. They feed on anything with warm blood. Monsters and voracious ones at that, if the old tales are to be believed. That they may or may not be going after the nob’s and other wealthy floobs isn’t too much of a stretch for the imagination. After all, from what little I know from the stories and children’s tails of vampires is that they tend, when not sucking everyone dry, to live like they did when they were…alive. Usually as nob’s and merchants.”
Livvi nods at Timmy's explanations and questions, thinking for a moment before answering, "You are correct - people can be monsters sometimes and there is no way we can change human nature. But that doesn't mean I can't try to help one or two as I am able. And you know as well as I that vampires are an evil that is completely different than the men and women in the guilds. Not that I wouldn't like to remove some of them, too, but for now I am focused on this threat. If nothing else, I wanted to warn you and my old friends about this danger so that you would at least be on the lookout for it and take some precautions. In this matter I think almost all in the city would band together...At least the Blackhearts know of it. That will go a long way towards getting the word out to the City Guard and perhaps even some of the nobs' private guards."
The man shrugged, still looking troubled. “As for wondering girls with no memories, that too, could be the work of this Sanguisuge of yours, or it could be something else, something more…normal. As you well know there is always a market for young, pliable, easily dominated women and men for that matter. Deviants with plenty of coin and few morals who prefer to dominate or control their toys. Joy toys, they’re called back where I was born,” Timmy said. “This control can be magical in nature, or it can be alchemical. Of course, considering the wealthy can own slaves outright and make them do their bidding, even in this city, and that there’s thousands of willing or desperate floobs who, for little or no coin, will prostrate themselves in any manner that coin owner desires makes it doubly deviant. Frankly, if it were common street people or the sons and daughters of the working poor would you be so concerned about these disappearances?”
“People disappear daily in every city of significant size,” Timmy reminds her, “Press gangs work the taverns and winesinks of the docks, searching for recruits for ships of all sorts. Monsters disguised as people hunt in the dark and fogs every night. Floobs gamble and cannot pay their debts, some pay with their lives, other’s pay with the lives of those they hold dear” – though Timmy wasn’t saying it, there were cables in the various thieves guilds, his own included, that ran such rackets or acted as enforcers to collect debts, for a fee. They also ran brothels, pimped whores and other street entertainers, and, most likely, caused more then their share of floobs to end up dead or missing.
“It’s a nasty, chaotic, evil world, Livvi.”
The young woman's expression softens for a moment. "Look - you and I have been tight since childhood. Just be careful, alright? And run away if you see an older gentleman in a blue turban with a big-ass jewel. He is truly more powerful than you or I am ready for yet. I do appreciate your honesty - and your discretion. Now - tell me how the old gang is doing..."
They spend the next hour or so reminiscing and catching up. Timmy describes the capers he had been involved in recently (and likely exaggerating his role in them), Livvi describing her important position in the Lion's Pride (equally exaggerating her status.) Together they consume a fair amount of spirits and stew, eventually stumbling back to their respective abodes in good moods and slightly buzzed.
Lilita watches the knight slump over surprised that her spell actually worked and quickly moves from her chair to the small fireplace in the room, moistens her finger and scoops up some soot and dashes over to the knight and lightly kisses the knight's forehead to moisten it as well as she whispers under her breath, "my apologies sweet knight sleep well and may the beautiful Fey Goddess haunt your dreams."
Then without delay Lilita uses her finger and the soot to quickly and crudely draw the sigil of the Fey Goddess on the slumbering knight's forehead. When he awakens, he will not be able to see it but no doubt the men under his command will take note and may find it very amusing... at his expense!
Not wasting any time having it all planned out she quickly and quietly proceeds to slip out the door to the room, closing it behind her..****y to find three men-at-arm’s standing in the inn’s public room. One was questioning the Inn’s owner and staff, another stood by the front exit. The third, a tall, cool eyed man with dark skin turned as she closed the door.
Lilita again wasted no time presenting herself with a polite and respectful curtsy to the Blackheart man-at-arms serving the knight she sees and says, "m' lord wishes to interview the fey goddess in private without me underfoot," looking down at the ground shyly still in a state of half-undress, "and it is also m' lord's desire that you see me home without delay on horseback... and commands that you take careful note of where you leave me should m' lord have need of me for a follow up interview, he will know exactly where to find me." [Deception roll (+2) 16+2=18 <vs.> Men-at-arms Intelligence check = 14 (success)]
Eyeing her state of dress and catching the grins of his fellow Blackhearts the man nods slowly, his expression turning from amused to stern. “Come with me.” He heads out side where there were large numbers of both City Guard, Blackhearts, and gawking citizens. Calling out to a young man holding the reigns of a horse he repeats the ‘order’.
Sitting in front of the Blackheart, Lilita can see that the young man who is really close to her own age, is taking care. Because of the dark, or perhaps because of his lack of skill with riding, she didn’t know.
“Where we goin’, miss?”
Lilita sitting on the horse in front of the young Blackheart replies to his question, "you will know soon enough m' lord, just please follow my directions, it won't take too long, and I can be good company. My name is Lilita by-the-way, what is your name, if I may be so bold to ask?" She is friendly and polite to him, chatting on endlessly as young girls often do. "You must very skilled to be a part of the famous Blackhearts being so young, a very impressive feat! Are you married or have a sweet-heat, a brave handsome man like yourself I bet you have sweet-heart or two! Always my poor luck to meet a handsome and interesting gentleman who is already spoken for. Oh, and thank you and your fellow Blackhearts by the way for saving me this evening, I thought I was done for up there on that roof."
Out of the corner of one eye she could see that he was blushing. One arm holding the reigns to the horse, his other was clasped gently around her waist in such a manner that it seemed that he was overly conscious of the fact that what remained of the top half of Lilita’s dress was barely sufficient to cover her pale flesh.
“You are welcome, miss,” he stammered slightly. “I – I’ve only been part of the company for a moon now and am very junior. I, ah, I – ah…no, no, I haven’t a sweetheart, not yet. Duty, you know,” he added, trying to sound older and wiser. After a moment, as if he had forgotten she asked, he stammers, “Tarin, miss, my name is Tarin.”
Lilita will made small talk with him getting to know him and he... her as they ride together on horseback. "Your Knight Commander told me, what is his real name again, is a real lord? He told me all about this Night Shadow fellow you all were chasing except what he did... what exactly did he do that caused such force to be brought to bear to catch him? A strange turn of events I must say for him to be in cahoots with that baker’s assistant, Garse the Gaffer... now, what shop was it that employed him? I imagine he must in the stocks by now as he no doubts deserves!"
“Captain Kelban? Oh, he’s a great man; a great commander,” Tarin said. “Kelban Bessari, of the noble family of the same name. My captain is third son to Count Bessari, whose family estate is of the Jarmeer province.” At the mention of the Night Shadow Tarin’s face turned determined, his arm tightening around her waist so that she felt herself drawn closer to him. “The man’s a notorious thief, miss. Terrible man, they say. Slip’s into windows at night, taking everything of value and deflowering any maid he encounters. I – “at the mention of the baker’s assistant Tarin hesitated – “…well, I don’t know. We were told that one of the Blue Cobra’s fingered this Garse as part of a conspiracy to kill the Head Sage. He works at the Baker’s Guild Hall, or so it was said. Stocks? No, whatever he’s accused of he’s to face the Lion’s Justice in the morning.”
The baker’s guild was large as it consisted of several large bakeries and grain storage sites within the city and was responsible for providing for both the palace and for most of the city’s governmental needs as well as numerous small businesses and temples.
She has him travel the roundabout way so that she is able to question and maybe get some more information and so she doesn't want to get to her destination too quickly, another reason why she just didn't tell him the name of where they were going... to begin with! Once she learned all she is able her young Blackheart and the mysterious Night Shadow Lilita will have him come to a stop across the street from the Black Rose Healing House.
When talking to the knight commander Lilita remembered before when outside the Black Rose that wealthy merchant was searching for his daughter who was under their care, but they would not let him inside making Lilita wonder if her mysterious patient that disappeared from her Vargo wagon was the merchant's daughter. Was she at the Black Rose and escaped she wondered... was that why they would not let her father inside to see her because they lost her? As well Lilita also thought about the woman's strange wound, a single tiny pin-prick somehow made her think of her father's strange lone elongated tooth she had noted back at her master's shop when she encountered him there. Though she has no proof, something, some instinct, a gut feeling makes her suspect that her father is somehow tied to the Black Rose Healing House. When he had come for her, she had thought he might have been sent by Lord Basha Maigrinstaff, that was the 'him' she referred to. If not, then perhaps they connected to the others like her father whom he hinted about... was the Black Rose something more, a place for them to gather, a tavern of sorts for noble monsters or just her father???
Lilita turns and smiles at her young guardian angel, "we are here, we have arrived..." pointing at the at the Black Rose, "thank you for escorting me and being such a gentleman to me. I know my state of undress I must seem like sort of tavern tart; I am not so I do hope that I can you see again sometime. Could you please do me a favor, could you please wait right here and watch me go up to the door and make I get inside alright... don't leave until I am safely inside please, I am afraid and been through so much this evening. Also, could you please when return to the Knight Commander to say to him for me the following... I am sorry m' lord, I beg your forgiveness and your indulgence, please wait until tomorrow noon before calling upon me at the Black Rose Healing House, I am trying to help you locate the fellow you are looking for. I believe he might show but not until later... so it is best to wait before springing the trap before he arrives and ruin everything." Lilita then presses her lips against the young Blackheart's cheek, giving him a polite thank you kiss!!!
“Of course, Miss,” Tarin said with another raging blush. He slid off the horse and then helped her dismount, his eyes drawn to how Lilita’s torn gown gaped open occasionally as she moved. “I will wait as long as I dare, of course, I – “He blushes again at the kiss.
Leaving the young by his horse, she crosses the street making her way to the front door of the Black Rose, glancing back to check to make sure he is still there waiting and watching for her to go inside before he leaves as instructed.
Lilita knocks on the door and keeps knocking... very loudly even though it must be an ungodly hour of the night until someone answers the door and opens it. Whoever it is that answers the door Lilita will look up at him or her, "please let me inside, I have come to see my father, you know the noble gentleman with the lovely priceless white sapphire stone mounted on a pin that secures a fine blue satin turban... we were separated and he told me that if that should happen then I was to come here and wait for him. I am not going anywhere until I see him!" She demands sternly...
“So, it seems.”
A woman with lush curves and long, brown hair tied back in a pair of ponytails had answered the door. She wore a pure white gown of exquisite design and material. A slender belt of copper rings encircled her waist, helping to create the appearance of a tighter waist. Her age was hard to determine but her tone and her graceful motions hinted as a noble birth.
“My, but you look in terrible shape, my dear, terrible. Your father? We have no male patients in residence this day, that I am sure off. Though,” one manicured nail lightly tapped on her perfect chin, “there are several that the Master is treating at their homes.” Her eyes slowly meandered over Lilita in such a manner that she felt that she was being judged, measured, and weighed. “I am sure that your father was mistaken. I doubt that he has the means to contract the master’s services. Perhaps you should try one of the Healer Guild’s chapter houses, or one of the temples? They take in charity cases.”
Lilita scowls at her, "my father is not a patient, he is a noble monster, one of the city's great old ones though he now only has the one special tooth he still able to transform into bat when he pleases! While the likes of you and I are only cows as he is so fond of saying." Lilita says stubbornly and defiantly...
"Perhaps the Blackheart soldier stationed just across the street there watching us. He who serves under Captain Kelban Bessari, the third son to Count Bessari, whose family estate is of the Jarmeer province might be interested in escorting me to one of the Healer Guild’s chapter houses and along the way, my tongue can do a bit of wagging! Tell me can your master Lord Basha Maigrinstaff afford to come under the scrutiny of the Blackhearts? They with a direct channel to the ear of the mighty Lion himself!!! I think your master can ill afford such scrutiny so soon after losing Artisan Karigaon's daughter who was left in your care? Do you really want that? Do you wish to risk such a thing or is this all a bit above your pay grade, so consider carefully? Take me inside now, give me a warm bowl of porridge, let me wait until morning and if my father has not presented himself before the rising sun then you can send me on my way at first light confident that I am merely the little guttersnipe you take me to be! No doubt the Blackheart will lose interest by then and himself be gone as well... problem solved. Or will you in your vanity and ignorance prefer to toss the dice?" [woman’s reaction roll = 74]
“Why you – “
“What do we have here, Nicci?”
Nicci sneers at Lilita but turns to look at the new arrival. A slender, beautiful woman of an undetermined age who wears her blond hair draped over the left side of her face; the right side shaved clean to the scalp. She too, wore an expensive white gown that shimmered in the light of the crystal lanterns above the doors.
“Some gutter tripe trying to bullshit her way inside.”
“Nicci! Such language, have you learned nothing of the gentle arts?” The blonde bowed slightly to Lilita even as her jade green eyes washed over the healer in such a way as to cause her to aware of her current state of dress. Was it pity? Or was it something far more personal? Tongue lightly licking her upper lip the woman’s smile was inviting as it was lascivious. “She is of the healer’s guild; can you not see her sigil? For that reason alone, she is right to expect civility from the master’s house.” Nicci rolled her eyes but the new comer ignored her as she opened the door further, taking in the young Blackheart loitering across the street before sweeping over Lilita’s current state of damaged dress. Whether it was the young man across the street or some bit of empathy for Lilita’s current state or something darker, wasn’t clear, but the blonde gave Lilita a sisterly smile.
“Please, come inside. If nothing else we can attend to your gown’s wounds, and perhaps, assuage the young lad across the street’s overt concern for you, Miss?” As she spoke the blonde stepped back and by her posture, inviting Lilita to enter the House of the Black Rose. Nicci frowned but rolled her eyes again and disappeared inside.
Lilita looks at the blonde lady with a cool smile as she gives her a polite and respectful curtsy, "thanks m'lady, you are most kind. I take it there is no need to repeat myself since you were listening to our whole conversation where you stood just to the side of the door... out of sight?" She states rather matter-of-factly as she walks through the doorway inside... following the lady without fear or concern as the door is closed behind her.
The anterior room had several archways leading deeper into the Black Rose. Plush chairs and padded benches lined two walls. A small table sat between the two chairs holding a vase of fresh cut flowers. The walls were painted with murals dedicated to healing and healthy living, creating an inviting area for would be patients to wait upon calling. All in all, the room was about the same size of the entirety of Pencelot’s shop.
As she walks Lilita glances down at her signet ring with the sigil of the healer guild, the emblem that is sewn into her dress all but hidden between the damaged folds, "you are most observant m' lady but then true healers are trained to be observant are they not? But may I ask, how do you know that it is not stolen?"
The one called Nicci was leaning nonchalantly against the wall as Lilita followed the blonde. She snorted. “Is it?” she snorts, “Are you implying that you are posing as a Healer?
“Nicci! Manners.”
There was another derisive snort. “Diamonique, she came to our door, waving around vague threats and claiming to – “
Diamonique sighed while giving Nicci a stern look. “I said enough already. The Master’s charity begins at our door, but it should also lend itself to our mouth and thoughts. Go and check on our patients…please.”
Another flare of defiance covered Nicci’s. She half glared at Lilita before spinning on her heel and flouncing off. Diamonique shook her head and gave a soft, disapproving sigh before smiling once more.
“Please forgive Nicci’s attitude, Miss. It is in her nature to be suspicious of, well, everyone.”
Lilita's eyes dart about taking in the interior of the Black Rose... having long been very curious about what it looked like on the inside, "please, m' lady, I do hope that you can forgive my harsh words and rudeness to your companion. I sincerely apologize, it is not how I usually behave and to be honest I find speaking in such a manner most distasteful but sometimes one must do whatever is required don't you think?"
“Sometimes,” Diamonique agreed. “As to answer your question about your sigil, I would agree that yes, you might have stolen it, yet who, who would have stolen such a thing, openly suggest that it was stolen? Besides, to have the legitimate ring and to have the guild’s sigils woven into your dress as well? No, I think it is yours. Now, if you will follow me.”
Turning without a glance to see if Lilita were following the blonde glided gracefully through the closer arc and then up a flight of stairs. As she walked ahead of her Lilita was given a glimpse of the tattoo of a blue star located just behind the woman’s left knee.
“You are friends of Ser Bessari?”
Lilita takes note of the blue star tattoo but does not comment on it. Then smiles at Domonique’s question thinking that Lilita's name dropping was what apparently had gained her admittance to the Black Rose. Lilita politely responds, "no... m' lady, not really, the term 'friends' I fear does not adequately describe our... umm, association. After all, I am but a baseborn guttersnipe. Men such as Ser Bessari do not lower themselves in such a manner to a befriend one such as I, do they? The baseborn after all are just another resource, a commodity, to be used, traded, bought or sold, don't you think?"
“The Bessari name is ranked among the upper portion of the cities elite, even so, for a baseborn guttersnipe you have obvious appeal. A potential mistress, mayhap,” Diamonique said in a tone that was conversational, not derogatory. She turned down a long hallway and opened the third door on the right. “In truth, baseborn or nobleborn, we are all just a commodity to men. Young Kelban is quite a catch, I congratulate you on your relationship with him.”
Lilita continues to watch Domonique’s every gesture and movement closely, as she hangs on her every word, "why thank you m' lady but you might say I am not what one would call a devotee of Ser Bessari, after all, this evening his men attempted to bring bodily harm upon the person of my noble father. Suffice to say I did in a manner of speaking... catch him... and I marked him... but despite his impeccable pedigree I am after a far bigger fish so I had to let him go... back into the pond one might say!"
The older woman laughs. “In here.”
The room beyond the door was large and richly furnished. A solar of sorts with several doors opening into adjacent rooms. One was open, giving Lilita a view of a large, four posted bed covered in silks. Somewhere inside was an oil lamp creating a soft, reddish glow. Diamonique strolled towards the open door to the bedroom. Behind her, Lilita felt more than heard, the door to the hallway close behind her.
Lilita's eyes grew large as saucers very taken at the sight of such lavish decor and furnishings, never having seen it's like, such luxury... much more than Lilita could ever conceive of, it all even beyond her wildest dreams. The entire place was like a royal palace to one such as Lilita. Slowly she glanced back at the now closed door wondering who had closed it making her think of her father... the way he had opened and closed doors at her master's shop in a rather mysterious manner. Could this beautiful maiden be a creature like her father she thought?
Lilita's voice wavers slightly as she speaks and asks Diamonique, "is this your private chamber m' lady, are all healers in the employ of the Black Rose provided with such wondrous accommodations? But you are not just another healer, are you? You are something more... far more, I should think. Your grace and your manner are otherworldly, your beauty is perfection itself, the sort as to make men weep when they behold you. Do they weep m' lady?"
“Yes, this is my suite here in the Rose. I don’t know by which you mean, that I am sometime more. Beauty is fleeting, in the end, for all of us.” Domonique’s head turns towards her with a look, rather it was amusement, curiosity, or something else, it was impossible to tell. “Weep? For me?” There was a soft, almost sad sounding laugh. “No, probably not. Lust, yes, covet, probably, even admire…maybe, but I doubt anyone has wept for me in years.” She shakes her head. “I believe that I have something in your size,” the blonde was saying as she opened a hand carved wardrobe against one wall.
Lilita watches as she opens the wardrobe, seeing what lies inside Lilita's eyes begin to tear up at the sight of such beauty, such craftsman and skill that went into the making of such fine garments, no doubt the Fey Goddess Livvi would give much to obtain a garment or two from that wardrobe. "Please m' lady... do not go to such trouble for one such as I. I would only soil and ruin such finery were I to put it on. I do very much appreciate the thought, but I can make do with my dress as it is... it is really not as bad as it looks... I have a sewing kit at home to mend it later, in the morning when I return home."
“Nonsense, that thing is little more than rags, besides I have more than I need and many that I haven’t worn in ages. Such garments shouldn’t offend your sense of propriety or status, I hope.” As she spoke Domonique rustled through the wardrobe. “Ah, this one.” Domonique smiles and takes out a simple light blue dress made from cotton not unlike the remains of the dress Lilita wore. “I used to wear this quite a bit, before I came to live with the Master. Did you say your father was a patient of the Master’s?”
As the woman asks about her father Lilita shakes her head, "no... m' lady my father is not a patient as I explained to the Lady Nicci, he is beyond such things, I think. Why would a great old one, a noble monster such as my father have need of such? His concerns are not mortal concerns. What about you m' lady, do you have concerns... fears... needs? One such as I could not pose any threat to you, or to the Black Rose itself. In the wilds of nature, a bat has nothing to fear, except an owl perhaps and as you can plainly see I am no owl."
“This noble monster of yours, did you say that he wears a blue turban?”
Lilita nods, "yes m' lady, I did... he wears a fine blue satin turban with a precious white sapphire stone."
Gesturing for Lilita to disrobe and try on the dress Domonique frowns slightly. “Rakia Rezgui,” she says quietly. “From the Karzulun…”
Among the many things that her teachers had taught was local history so Lilita knew that the Karzulun are a nomadic people which range from the Braztook Hills to the Terad Mountains north of Tarantis. A tribal society, they had a history of raiding the outer provinces and merchant caravans, although the women and children provide the main sustenance by gathering wild roots, vegetables, and berries which are cooked into a pungent, spicy stew that could be found in many places within the city as well. A ruthless people leading a difficult existence, or so it was said. Many high-ranking males wore turbans and short, sleeveless tunics, often matched with long, flowing robes of white or brightly colored silk.
Lilita without a further word she obeys... her fingers work to unfasten the clasps to allow the remnants of her dress to fall to the floor at her feet. She then stands motionless before Domonique totally unclothed... her eyes shyly downcast.
“And you say that Master Rezgui has taken an interest in you?”
Lilita thinks for a moment before responding, "no... m' lady, not really. Perhaps in his own way but not as we mortals think of a man taking an interest in a woman. Rather more like a dog with a bone... but you are as much aware of this as I am. Whatever his interest it will be fleeting at best... I am just his latest distraction... no doubt he considers me to be something of a shiny new toy to play with, torment and abuse before callously discarding the lifeless husk that remains and then without emotion when I am used up he will then move on to the next shiny new toy that catches his eye."
Domonique’s head barely nods as she moves around Lilita, her eyes taking in the young woman’s appearance. Nor had she yet to acknowledge that she had even paid attention to the many subtle references to vampire’s and her presumed knowledge of such things. With a gentleness uncommon in Lilita’s life the woman helped her don the dress. One hand lightly touching Lilita’s silver hair Domonique says, “Master Rezgui is…known in this House, but is no longer welcome. In truth, he is not welcome within the city, not for some time, or so it has been said. He is a…perhaps outcast is too strong a word, but still fitting…”
Lilita looks into Domonique's eyes... meeting her gaze without flinching or turning away... and smiles as if she finds the older woman's choice of words amusing, "well then that is truly fitting... we share something in common between us... for I am every bit the outcast my father is!"
“Consider it a difference of opinions between my Master and yours, or a philosophy might be better, but it is not my place to explain more.”
Lilita merely shrugs, "it matters not, you have told me what I need to know, what I came to his house to discover or rather to confirm. But you are wrong... he is not my master, nor ever shall be. I name him... father because it pleases me to do so but I have yet to name him master. I find it plays well to his vanity. I seek three things from him you see... my mother's name and her final fate and I shall not rest or flee until there is a full accounting!!!"
The older woman turned to look out her second-floor window onto the street below. “It may be as you say. That you are just a new shiny toy for Master Rezgui’s pleasure, to be used or tormented as it pleases him. You can seek asylum within the temples, there safe from him but not from other predators. Or you can seek out Ser Bessari and through him, the crown’s protection though from my experiences, the palace, too, is full of pillagers of a different ilk. If you do not fear Master Rezgui than you may return home and invite him over your threshold, as you choose. Who knows, maybe you can as ague his hungers and alter his mind on such things. Nothing is truly impossible.”
Lilita laughs, it's sound rings disturbingly and eerily hollow, "seek out Ser Bessari, you are misguided to offer me, such counsel, such is useless as is all the rest of it... all ill-advised! Neither crown nor temple shall I seek out... sanctuary. But you are correct that I do not fear my father but not for reasons you think, of course, I could explain it to you in greater detail, but it is not my place to do so. I am sorry for you have proven yourself to be a most gracious host... m' lady."
She smiles and shakes her head. “The dress is a trade, dear one. I would say a gift, but I suspect that your sensibilities would reject it as unworthy. But a trade for telling me of your master’s presence in the city. Master Maigrinstaff will wish to know. As he is currently at his estate in the mountains attending business, I will inform him of such as well as your visit upon his return.” Domonique reached the door to her room only to have it open soundlessly.
Lilita reaches out and takes Domonique's hand into her own and kisses it, "our exchange of information is the only trade between us, this dress is a worthy gift which I gladly and humbly accept. So, thank you m' lady... for your generosity and your kindness."
Lilita turns almost expectantly towards the door as it silently begins to open.
As they descend the stairs for the anteroom and the exit beyond Domonique’s hand lightly brushes against Lilita’s. “Such tentative steps down a very dark and dangerous path have already exposed you to far more than you might realize, miss. For not is always what it seems and that these Mas…these beings are far more than mere mortals, and though their egos may drive them to think they are equals with the gods, they are not. Even so, there are politics as there is a hierarchy, one that is quite complicated. You expose yourself by your words and deeds to the plots and contrivances, that drama, that they so often are driven by. Some, as it has been said to you, are mere cows, to be milked and eaten at their leisure, and are seen as thus. But they are herd animals as well, subject to being raided, killed, or worse.” The woman sighed greatly. “Be assured that you have drawn one’s attention, others may follow, if for no other reason than to anger the first.”
Lilita nods and replies without emotion, "Yes, I understand, thank you for your words of warning... I would expect no less from such beings, the Strigoi have good reason to consider themselves, gods, as they are not that far removed from godhood are, they? All beings strive for the divine... to be worshipped, loved or feared, most especially the Strigoi... driven to near madness in their desire demonstrate their godhood to lesser beings as they stand at its cusp with the prize just ever so slightly out of their reach."
Lilita casually walks through the now open doorway in her new second-hand dress she turns to Domonique and pauses, "besides seeking answers... poking the nest is precisely why I came to the Black Rose... as well as to formally introduce myself. I am Lilita Lilitu and I am in fact an Owl! Tell your master, that when I have finished with my father that I will come for him... and the others."
“I will be sure to tell him.” The older woman seemed more amused than concerned about the implied threat.
As they reached the bottom of the stairs Lilita noticed Nicci standing at the top, just out of sight with a mixture of longing, hatred, and lust staring down at her. There was an animalism in that one, a hunger to dominate and command. A dangerous one if felt.
Lilita smiles up at the Nicci and calls up to her in a friendly manner, "Lady Nicci... I was hoping that I would see you again before I leave, to offer you a chance to give me a sweet sisterly kiss goodbye before I depart." Lilita strides up to a nearby wall and holds up her right hand as she summons forth the spell Touch of Radiance, her hand glowing brightly with her forefinger extended... her finger burning with divine radiant energy she draws a sigil into the wall itself!
She then looks back up at Nicci and moves up next to Domonique and kisses the older woman on the cheek and offers her own cheek for Domonique to kiss in return if she so desires... and for Nicci to come down and so the same as well if it pleases her to do so...
As Domonique returned the chaste kiss, giving Lilita a faint whiff of coconut palm, rather it is a perfume or some ointment worked into the older woman’s skin, she couldn’t be sure. Lilita also noticed that Domonique was warm to the touch, not cold, like the noble monster. Looking past the woman’s shoulders at she could see Nicci sneer, than frown. Her dark eyes glared once more than she turned and disappeared out of view. Some gut instinct or critical observation murmured to Lilita that that one very much found her to be a threat in some way and that Nicci’s threat was even more bestial, if it were possible, than her father projected. Distinctively different even if she couldn’t put a finger on it.
"Thank you again Lady Domonique for your generosity and your hospitality, it was a pleasure and honor to meet you." Lilita glances at the front door waiting for it to open so that she may depart in peace...
“And you too, dear. I feel confident that we shall meet again, soon.” The door shut quietly on its own with Lilita on the outside once more. A glance told her that the young Blackheart had left, leaving her to her own devices.
Not surprised and relieved that the young Blackheart had left tells Lilita (she hopes) he did as she asked him and returned to his Captain once she had entered the Black Rose. Lilita looks up and down the street, then turns her head to give one last glance at the Black Rose before she slowly starts to walk alone heading back home... making her way to her Vardo wagon for some much-needed sleep before she would need to report to the keeper of stocks at traitor's square the following day as she had promised the Knight Commander.
As Lilita walks along she will also check her new dress patting about for any pockets (hidden or otherwise), etc. to make sure there is nothing inside that has been accidentally or inadvertently left inside...
Though getting later, Mordecai heads over to Lilita's Vardo to ask her for her opinion on the elven woman and the blood-splotched ravens. Hopefully she had managed to talk her way out of the situations with the City Guard and hadn’t ended up in the stocks or worse.
"Well, worst case, they would question her a bit - maybe have someone look at her to see why she was acting so crazy," Mordecai says talking to himself as he walked through the wards.
"And if she's angry at me - well, I told her I'd stick to the plan," Mordecai finishes with a chuckle.
As he gets closer to Lilita's Vardo, Mordecai takes a look around and slowly realizes that his current dress, although not overly ostentatious, sticks out more in the neighborhood than his old clothing.
The section that Lilita lived in was perhaps the worst in the city. Many homeless and destitute crowded the crumbling buildings or had cobbled together crude shelters in any open space that they were able to do so. So, when he arrived at the little as the sun was setting at the park like lot holding the Vardo it was easy to see just how out of place it was, compared to the night before when everything was dark and misty.
"Huh," says Mordecai, "this place is downright cheery compared to everything around it... even when not compared to everything around it."
As Mordecai gets closer, he calls out, "Err, 'Bush?' Is your mother home? Also, please don't ensnare me." He knocks on the door.
His hand had barely connected with the door for a second time when it was flung open and Lilita, dressed in a thin, too short sleeping gown flings open the door to her Vardo, upon looking at him with wonder and relief. She begins to cry and squeal with delight making a mad dash straight for him leaping up into his arms throwing her arms and legs around him tightly, kissing him again and again, as she hangs on to him!
Mordecai freezes mid-knock, all of his muscles become tense and unmoving as Lilita embraces him.
"Mordecai, you are alive... I thought I thought you were dead... that they had you killed you, had killed you both! I am sorry... I tried to tell the guards at the prepared story to get us all past, but I got all flustered and ruined it, ruined everything! I was afraid they could see it all on my face, hear it all on my lying tongue... I am sorry I failed you, I was afraid they'd catch you and kill you. All because me of me so I pretended to faint so you could find another way since I botched it all so badly!!!"
Mordecai, still tensed up, begins looking from side to side, as it slowly dawned on him where they were standing - outside, at dusk, in one of the... more interesting... neighborhoods of the city.
She goes back to kissing, tears streaming down her cheeks, tears of happiness to see him again.
Mordecai rushes into the Vardo with Lilita still hanging off him. He closes the door behind him and tries his best to pry her off him as gently as possible. He says as he awkwardly tries to create some space between them, "Okay, Miss Lilita, your concern is appreciated but, really this - reaction - is far more than I deserve. Your help the other night was thanks enough. Umm... Please... Could... You... Stop?"
Lilita slowly calms herself down and stops kissing Mordecai and releases her grip on him sliding off him to her feet. Standing before his towering figure shyly, "I am sorry to have offended you, Mordecai... I thought I would never see you again, that you were dead. I am just so happy, so excited to see that you are alive and well! My apologies..."
"Yes, again, thank you for concern. I, too, am glad that you... seem well," Mordecai replies. "I came here to seek your advice and pay you back for your help - as I promised I would despite your rebuffs against such a promise. However, I need a moment to compose myself if you don't mind - might I trouble you for a drink, I feel parched."
Lilita quickly rushes to find a mug and fill it with fresh clean water and offer it to her guest. "advice? I am not sure that I the right person to seek advice from but anything I can do to help you... you know I will. As for payment... you well know that I do not help others with expectations for compensation. You are an honorable man; you keep your word no matter the cost. I respect that and you... whatever I can do for you... you have but ask..."
Accepting the mug gratefully Mordecai settles onto the small rooms only stool and takes a deep drink before replying. “When last we spoke, I said I'd pay you back for the service and kindness shown to Hadara and I, well here it is," Mordecai says this as he presents her with his magic wand. Mordecai continues, "I had it looked at by a reputable arcanist - although I could technically use it, not so with the steady reliability of someone familiar with the arcane. It casts a sort of offensive lightning magic and I've been told it could be used 18 more times before becoming inert. It's worth about 200 gold crowns (20 platinum), so you could choose to sell it or keep it on you should the need arise."
Lilita looks at the wand surprised and more than a little stunned by the overwhelming generosity of the gift. "Mordecai, this a bit much to be giving me. I mean I didn't do anything other than almost get you both killed to deserve or much less have earned such a thing! Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the thought behind it but it's much too much! You deserve it far more than I for risking your life to save Hadara. Where or how did you come by this wand anyway? Did Hadara give it to you for getting him to his destination? An Arcanist you say... what was the name of this reputable Arcanist and where could I find him... if I had a need to consult with him?"
"Hadara? No. Hadara didn't have anything on him when I caught up to him. He spotted the wand as we were making our way through the sewers. Not sure why he didn't keep it for himself, but I'm not one to look a gifted horse in the mouth," Mordecai replies.
"Well, actually, I asked around for an arcane specialist and got pointed in his direction," Mordecai explains. "He has a shop in the Sage's Quarter... Umm... His name is Gordon Tails? Or something like that? Maybe Talis? I'm not entirely sure. If his name isn't attached to a BOLO I have little reason to remember it."
"In any case," Mordecai continues, "while your mulling over that wand, I came here to talk to you about something, actually someone, we found in the sewers. We came across an elven woman - based on how she was dressed she was either a noble or wealthy. She still had on her brooch and bracelet - both very nice bits of jewelry - so I don't think her death was a mugging gone wrong. She was deposited there. Oddest part was her wound. It was a single hole at the base of her neck, and she seemed to have been drained out. Hadara and I talked about it and our best guess was 'stirges,' but that doesn't explain how she got there. That's why I'm here - wanted to get your opinion on it."
"As far as where we found her," Mordecai continues, "given how far down the tunnel we were, and it being a cross road of sorts, I suppose we found her in the vicinity of fish monger lane near the central docks.”
Running her hands over the wand Lilita inspects it closely. "Mordecai," she puts her hands into his, "I am going, to be honest with you, there is great danger looming in this city, the Strigoi or as most call such creatures... vampires. I witnessed an encountered just last night between a group of Blackhearts and a lone Strigoi. I saw their weapons bounce off him without doing him any harm whatsoever! I suspect there are more than the one and that a treaty between two or possibly more sides has been broken and that things will only get worse. So, it might be best if you keep the wand or seek to trade it for an enchanted blade or two to protect yourself. I mean... in your line of work you are putting yourself in harm's way, sooner or later you are going to encounter one of them and I want you, I need you to be safe!"
"Vampires?" Mordecai asks aloud, a bit astonished, "I suppose that could have done that poor elven lass in. Although it's still an odd shape no? I thought vampires had fangs. This woman looked like a hole was punched into her - like a giant mosquito. Also - what's a Strigoi?"
Lilita seems confused for a moment then replies, "Strigoi... I don't how to explain but I think it's just another name for vampire, but I don't what language... this is all new to me too. All I know is the one I encountered is named Rakia Rezgui, a well-dressed nobleman who wears a blue satin turban with a white sapphire stone, he is extremely dangerous and powerful. He had a single elongated fang-like tooth, so I don't know if they normally have fangs as the legends say or if he is somehow unique or perhaps there are variations, different families, clans or factions. Maybe he killed your Elf maiden in the sewer or another of his kind did... your guess is as good as mine. But I recently had a patient, a young woman I treated with a similar single pin prick puncture, but I fell asleep and she ran off, but I could not find her. "
Mordecai arches an eyebrow as Lilita describes the battle she saw, he then says, "Well, I don't think I'd be able to cover the costs of permanently enchanting my trusty glaive here with just what the wand is worth. See, that's why I thought you should have it; I can't use it effectively and although the money would be nice, I don't think it'll be enough to get me something practical - hell, a full plate suit if armor costs more than that wand. Besides, I'm sure they landed some hits - they likely just require double the normal force to leave an impact on these beasts."
Thank again for having my safety in mind," Mordecai says with earnest, "but you really don't have to."
Getting up and walking over to the small desk in the Vardo Lilita takes a pen and parchment and begins to draw the owl sigil then hands the parchment to Mordecai, "but you can repay me by being on the lookout for anything, any items or such inscribed with that sigil... ask your arcanist, etc. and let me know if you encounter anything at all or hear any rumors of such a sigil or about owls and also anything about blue star tattoos. I drew the owl sigil last night at the Black Rose but not sure why and told the matron who had a blue star tattoo there I was an owl whatever that means but something deep inside me wants to get out and I think it is all related to my mother somehow. I think there are things out there that used to belong to her, and I need to find them to defend against what is coming."
Mordecai accepts the drawing and says," Sure, I could ask around." He then secures the parchment and puts it away in his pack.
Lilita runs her fingers through her silver-hair unsure of herself, "maybe I am just crazy... going mad... imagining things and the sigil means nothing... but since that Strigoi got inside my head, it's almost like something has come loose. I don't even know how to describe it. Maybe it is the creature warping my mind and my dreams or perhaps it is something waking up..."
"Well, that sounds unpleasant. Not sure I'd want anyone fooling around in my head," Mordecai replies.
Lilita started to pace about nervously, "maybe the fey goddess knows more, I need to take you to her to meet her right away. I know where she lives if you can spare the time to accompany me. She is a courtesan I think but she saved me with powerful magic, and she seemed to know what he was before I did. My powers come from within naturally with some training from the healer’s guild but hers... she is fey but I am certain that she is one trained in the arcane arts. I owe a rather large debt to her for saving my life last night. If you are certain that that you do not wish your magical wand perhaps you will consider accepting this in trade?"
Lilita removes her pendant, a Periapt of Wound Closure and holds it out to Mordecai and explains its function to him. "I owe Livvi and my noble gentleman, Rakia Rezgui seeks to make her his next victim, she is in great danger, your wand in her hands could very well save her life just as this pendant could one day save your life if you would accept it in trade. Besides I fear that if I tried to use the wand, not really trained that I would only injure myself or Rakia Rezgui with his powers to control me would just take it away from me."
Mordecai, after some thought, responds, "I'm assuming when you say 'fey goddess' you simply mean she's attractive - not an actual god. My theory on gods is that they tend not to live among us. And regarding the wand - I have literally seen you cast spells, and given how this wand works, as described to me, the wand will simply implicitly work for you, despite your lack of confidence on the matter. If you want the wand you can have it, but I'd feel better if YOU kept it - you seem even keeled, although a bit self-depreciating, but you'd be responsible enough not to use it frivolously... I'm not sure I'd extend a 'fey goddess courtesan' the same courtesy."
Mordecai pushes Lilita's hands with the pendant back, not accepting it. He comments, "If you are being haunted by some vampire, I suspect that this periapt should best stay around your neck."
Lilita takes Mordecai's hand into her own, "there is another too, a young woman named Nicci at the Black Rose, I think she is a vampire but not aligned with my noble gentleman. If legends are true then they will not be out and about in the daylight, can you come with me now to see if we can find Livvi at home to speak to her? Besides the Blackheart Knight... Captain Kelban Bessari might still be about and I imagine he will be rather cross with me as I promised to turn myself into the person in charge of the stocks at traitor’s square but I can do that after we speak to Livvi or to the captain himself if we should encounter him and you find your way to speak Livvi on your own if need be and tell her I sent you... if we do encounter the captain."
"Why on earth would you turn yourself in to the stocks? To be locked up? I doubt you're up to committing any sort of crime that would require such humiliation. No - you will do no such thing," Mordecai immediately responds a bit sternly.
"If you feel compelled to warn this Livvi person of the danger there in, I will accompany you in doing so. Now, dusk is among us, so these creatures may be out soon - it's best you should prepare and... dress appropriately," Mordecai states.
He then shoves the wand in her hand and says, "As you said, there's danger about, best you keep this as you can innately access its powers. And I wouldn't give it to anyone else - it seems that you could use the additional protection."
Mordecai bows slightly before saying, "I'll wait for you outside as you prepare. Please be quick about it - any head start we can take ahead of these vampires would be good to take advantage of."
Mordecai turns around lets himself outside, shuts the door behind him and waits.
Lilita quickly changes her clothes and gathers her things together locking up the vardo then takes Mordecai tenderly by the hand as the pair head to pay a visit to the fey goddess Livvi...
Having slept a goodly portion of the day away out of shear exhaustion, Lilita is woken by Tulip’s rustling branches. The plant sat nestled in its favorite pot but was agitating its limbs towards the door where she heard:
Mordecai’s voice calls out, "Err, 'Bush?' Is your mother home? Also, please don't ensnare me." He knocks on the door.
Lilita upon hearing and recognizing Mordecai's distinctive voice she jumps out of her bed and flings open the door to her Vardo, upon looking at him alive and well! She begins to cry and squeal with delight making a mad dash straight for him leaping up into his arms throwing her arms and legs around him tightly, kissing him again and again, as she hangs on to him!
Mordecai freezes mid-knock, all of his muscles become tense and unmoving as Lilita embraces him.
"Mordecai, you are alive... I thought I thought you were dead... that they had you killed you, had killed you both! I am sorry... I tried to tell the guards at the prepared story to get us all past, but I got all flustered and ruined it, ruined everything! I was afraid they could see it all on my face, hear it all on my lying tongue... I am sorry I failed you, I was afraid they'd catch you and kill you. All because me of me so I pretended to faint so you could find another way since I botched it all so badly!!!"
Mordecai, still tensed up, begins looking from side to side, as it slowly dawned on him where they were standing - outside, at dusk, in one of the... more interesting... neighborhoods of the city.
She goes back to kissing, tears streaming down her cheeks, tears of happiness to see him again...
Mordecai rushes into the Vardo with Lilita still hanging off him. He closes the door behind him and tries his best to pry her off him as gently as possible. He says as he awkwardly tries to create some space between them, "Okay, Miss Lilita, your concern is appreciated but, really this - reaction - is far more than I deserve. Your help the other night was thanks enough. Umm... Please... Could... You... Stop?"
Lilita slowly calms herself down and stops kissing Mordecai and releases her grip on him sliding off him to her feet. Standing before his towering figure shyly, "I am sorry to have offended you, Mordecai... I thought I would never see you again, that you were dead. I am just so happy, so excited to see that you are alive and well! My apologies..."
"Yes, again, thank you for concern. I, too, am glad that you... seem well," Mordecai replies. "I came here to seek your advice and pay you back for your help - as I promised I would despite your rebuffs against such a promise. However, I need a moment to compose myself if you don't mind - might I trouble you for a drink, I feel parched."
Lilita quickly rushes to find a mug and fill it with fresh clean water and offer it to her guest. "advice? I am not sure that I the right person to seek advice from but anything I can do to help you... you know I will. As for payment... you well know that I do not help others with expectations for compensation. You are an honorable man; you keep your word no matter the cost. I respect that and you... whatever I can do for you... you have but ask..."
Accepting the mug gratefully Mordecai settles onto the small rooms only stool and takes a deep drink before replying. “When last we spoke, I said I'd pay you back for the service and kindness shown to Hadara and I, well here it is," Mordecai says this as he presents her a wand. Than continues, "I had it looked at by a reputable arcanist - although I could technically use it, not so with the steady reliability of someone familiar with the arcane. It casts a sort of offensive lightning magic and I've been told it could be used 18 more times before becoming inert. It's worth about 200 gold crowns (20 platinum), so you could choose to sell it or keep it on you should the need arise."
Lilita looks at the wand surprised and more than a little stunned by the overwhelming generosity of the gift. "Mordecai, this a bit much to be giving me. I mean I didn't do anything other than almost get you both killed to deserve or much less have earned such a thing! Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the thought behind it but it's much too much! You deserve it far more than I for risking your life to save Hadara. Where or how did you come by this wand anyway? Did Hadara give it to you for getting him to his destination? An Arcanist you say... what was the name of this reputable Arcanist and where could I find him... if I had a need to consult with him?"
"Hadara? No. Hadara didn't have anything on him when I caught up to him. He spotted the wand as we were making our way through the sewers. Not sure why he didn't keep it for himself, but I'm not one to look a gifted horse in the mouth," Mordecai replies.
"Well, actually, I asked around for an arcane specialist and got pointed in his direction," Mordecai explains. "He has a shop in the Sage's Quarter... Umm... His name is Gordon Tails? Or something like that? Maybe Talis? I'm not entirely sure. If his name isn't attached to a BOLO I have little reason to remember it."
"In any case," Mordecai continues, "while your mulling over that wand, I came here to talk to you about something, actually someone, we found in the sewers. We came across an elven woman - based on how she was dressed she was either a noble or wealthy. She still had on her brooch and bracelet - both very nice bits of jewelry - so I don't think her death was a mugging gone wrong. She was deposited there. Oddest part was her wound. It was a single hole at the base of her neck, and she seemed to have been drained out. Hadara and I talked about it and our best guess was 'stirges,' but that doesn't explain how she got there. That's why I'm here - wanted to get your opinion on it."
"As far as where we found her," Mordecai continues, "given how far down the tunnel we were, and it being a cross road of sorts, I suppose we found her in the vicinity of fish monger lane near the central docks.”
Running her hands over the wand Lilita inspects it closely looking for the owl sigil she drew on the wall of the Black Rose. "Mordecai," she puts her hands into his, "I am going, to be honest with you, there is great danger looming in this city, the Strigoi or as most call such creatures... vampires. I witnessed an encountered just last night between a group of Blackhearts and a lone Strigoi. I saw their weapons bounce off him without doing him any harm what-so-ever! I suspect there are more than the one and that a treaty between two or possibly more sides has been broken and that things will only get worse. So, it might be best if you keep the wand or seek to trade it for an enchanted blade or two to protect yourself. I mean... in your line of work you are putting yourself in harm's way, sooner or later you are going to encounter one of them and I want you, I need you to be safe!"
"Vampires?" Mordecai asks aloud, a bit astonished, "I suppose that could have done that poor elven lass in. Although it's still an odd shape no? I thought vampires had fangs. This woman looked like a hole was punched into her - like a giant mosquito. Also - what's a Strigoi?"
Lilita seems confused for a moment then replies, "Strigoi... I don't how to explain but I think it's just another name for vampire, but I don't what language... this is all new to me too. All I know is the one I encountered is named Rakia Rezgui, a well-dressed nobleman who wears a blue satin turban with a white sapphire stone, he is extremely dangerous and powerful. He had a single elongated fang-like tooth, so I don't know if they normally have fangs as the legends say or if he is somehow unique or perhaps there are variations, different families, clans or factions. Maybe he killed your Elf maiden in the sewer or another of his kind did... your guess is as good as mine. But I recently had a patient, a young woman I treated with a similar single pin prick puncture, but I fell asleep and she ran off, but I could not find her. "
Mordecai arches an eyebrow as Lilita describes the battle she saw, he then says, "Well, I don't think I'd be able to cover the costs of permanently enchanting my trusty glaive here with just what the wand is worth. See, that's why I thought you should have it; I can't use it effectively and although the money would be nice, I don't think it'll be enough to get me something practical - hell, a full plate suit if armor costs more than that wand. Besides, I'm sure they landed some hits - they likely just require double the normal force to leave an impact on these beasts."
"Thank again for having my safety in mind," Mordecai says with earnest, "but you really don't have to."
Getting up and walking over to the small desk in the Vardo Lilita takes a pen and parchment and begins to draw the owl sigil then hands the parchment to Mordecai, "but you can repay me by being on the lookout for anything, any items or such inscribed with that sigil... ask your arcanist, etc. and let me know if you encounter anything at all or hear any rumors of such a sigil or about owls and also anything about blue star tattoos. I drew the owl sigil last night at the Black Rose but not sure why and told the matron who had a blue star tattoo there I was an owl whatever that means but something deep inside me wants to get out and I think it is all related to my mother somehow. I think there are things out there that used to belong to her, and I need to find them to defend against what is coming."
Mordecai accepts the drawing and says," Sure, I could ask around." He then secures the parchment and puts it away in his pack.
Lilita runs her fingers through her silver-hair unsure of herself, "maybe I am just crazy... going mad... imagining things and the sigil means nothing... but since that Strigoi got inside my head, it's almost like something has come loose. I don't even know how to describe it. Maybe it is the creature warping my mind and my dreams or perhaps it is something waking up..."
"Well, that sounds unpleasant. Not sure I'd want anyone fooling around in my head," Mordecai replies.
Lilita started to pace about nervously, "maybe the fey goddess knows more, I need to take you to her to meet her right away. I know where she lives if you can spare the time to accompany me. She is a courtesan I think but she saved me with powerful magic, and she seemed to know what he was before I did. My powers come from within naturally with some training from the healer’s guild but hers... she is fey, but I am certain that she is one trained in the arcane arts. I owe a rather large debt to her for saving my life last night. If you are certain that that you do not wish your magical wand perhaps you will consider accepting this in trade?"
Lilita removes her pendant, a Periapt of Wound Closure and holds it out to Mordecai and explains its function to him. "I owe Livvi and my noble gentleman, Rakia Rezgui seeks to make her his next victim, she is in great danger, your wand in her hands could very well save her life just as this pendant could one day save your life if you would accept it in trade. Besides I fear that if I tried to use the wand, not really trained that I would only injure myself or Rakia Rezgui with his powers to control me would just take it away from me."
Mordecai, after some thought, responds, "I'm assuming when you say 'fey goddess' you simply mean she's attractive - not an actual god. My theory on gods is that they tend not to live among us. And regarding the wand - I have literally seen you cast spells, and given how this wand works, as described to me, the wand will simply implicitly work for you, despite your lack of confidence on the matter. If you want the wand you can have it, but I'd feel better if YOU kept it - you seem even keeled, although a bit self-depreciating, but you'd be responsible enough not to use it frivolously... I'm not sure I'd extend a 'fey goddess courtesan' the same courtesy."
Mordecai pushes Lilita's hands with the pendant back, not accepting it. He comments, "If you are being haunted by some vampire, I suspect that this periapt should best stay around your neck."
Lilita takes Mordecai's hand into her own, "there is another too, a young woman named Nicci at the Black Rose, I think she is a vampire but not aligned with my noble gentleman. If legends are true then they will not be out and about in the daylight, can you come with me now to see if we can find Livvi at home to speak to her? Besides the Blackheart Knight... Captain Kelban Bessari might still be about and I imagine he will be rather cross with me as I promised to turn myself into the person in charge of the stocks at traitor’s square but I can do that after we speak to Livvi or to the captain himself if we should encounter him and you find your way to speak Livvi on your own if need be and tell her I sent you... if we do encounter the captain."
"Why on earth would you turn yourself in to the stocks? To be locked up? I doubt you're up to committing any sort of crime that would require such humiliation. No - you will do no such thing," Mordecai immediately responds a bit sternly.
"If you feel compelled to warn this Livvi person of the danger there in, I will accompany you in doing so. Now, dusk is among us, so these creatures may be out soon - it's best you should prepare and... dress appropriately," Mordecai states.
He then shoves the wand in her hand and says, "As you said, there's danger about, best you keep this as you can innately access its powers. And I wouldn't give it to anyone else - it seems that you could use the additional protection."
Mordecai bows slightly before saying, "I'll wait for you outside as you prepare. Please be quick about it - any head start we can take ahead of these vampires would be good to take advantage of."
Mordecai turns around lets himself outside, shuts the door behind him and waits.
Lilita quickly changes her clothes and gathers her things together locking up the vardo then takes Mordecai tenderly by the hand as the pair head to pay a visit to the fey goddess Livvi...
The next morning Livvi looked a bit green about the gills. Literally. After getting back to her rooms in the Inn, it was all she could do to do a quick wipe-down of the body paint and throw on an old nightgown before falling into bed and snoring the night away. So, being a bit hung-over, she merely splashed some water on her face before hurriedly dressing and heading to the Sub-Minister's office to collect her daily batch of announcements. Luckily there was a thick haze over the city this morning, cutting the sun's harsh rays and sparing her from the skull-splitting headache threatening to crash down around her.
As was becoming her custom before leaving the Sub-ministry offices to take her messages to the masses, Livvi glances through the parchments and proclamations. Finding nothing about vampires or Sanguisuge, she considers making up an announcement of her own to warn the population, but quickly decides against it knowing the panic and chaos that would surely ensue. No, it was better for now that the thronging masses of witless fools just continue going about their daily lives.
There was, however, an announcement that a member of the baker’s guild had been found guilty of treason against the state and for working as an agent for the City State of the Overlord and was to be executed publicly in the city arena at noon. One Garse the Gaffer had been apprehended after moonfest (midnight) by members of the Blackheart’s and Blue Cobras.
"Hey, Quig!" Livvi calls out. "What's the backstory to this baker execution? Why's he getting axed?"
Quig grimaces than sits back looking a bit hung over. “Yea’, was somethin’ I hear tell. This Garse used some sort o’ nasty smelling stuff in an attempt to distract the Blackhearts then put up a fight. Threw two of The Lion’s men-at-arms out a second-floor window. The floob I talked to when I ate breakfast said that the notorious “Dark Shadow” or someone led more of the Blackhearts, including Ser Bessari, on a wild chase, too.”
"Dark Shadow?" she wonders to herself..."That man who popped up on the roof, drew the attention of the Blackheart's to the vampire, and then disappeared over the rooftops? I thought he was a scout for them - maybe he used the situation as a diversion to make his escape? Hmmm - quick thinking and helping a poor girl out. I think I have to meet this "Dark Shadow."
Livvi’s extensive education in the who’s who of the city, especially it’s noble lines, reminded her that Count Bessari held a sizable piece of one of the provinces and Kelban Bessari, a knight and captain in the Blackheart’s, was the count’s third son, single and headstrong. She wonders if perhaps this was the knight she encountered last night with Lilita, and if so, she laughs out loud wondering how many young, eligible, noble men she was going to bring into the Grey Lady's path..****y to be dismissed by the girl without so much as a chance to get to know them. Well, fate is a fickle *****, she thinks and laughs aloud again...
She nearly made it to the door when Quig called out, “That Garse bloke’s headin’ for the ax in tha’ arena ‘bout two this afternoon. It’s not in the official announcements, but I got word from tha Chief Adviser’s office to let all the criers know about it.”
<>
"Nephi, my dear, my head is splitting this morning! Can you get me an apple-pomegranate juice and some willow bark? And then I need to talk to you." She hands the girl two silver coins, enough to cover the drink and medicinal, and leave enough over for a very nice tip. She sits in a corner table, rests her head against the wall, and closes her eyes while she waits...
Sympathy leapt into the green-haired woman’s eyes. “I’ll see what I can do, Livvi,” she said before heading for the bar. A moment later Nephele paused to exchange greetings with Bilina as she came in. The raven-haired Blue Cobra laughed and touched the server on the shoulder before coming on the rest of the way with a lilt in her gait.
“A fine morningfest Livvi,” she said as she flopped onto the seat beside the Half-Elf, started to say something than took in Livvi’s condition. “Goddess girl, you look…peaked.”
"Yeah, well YOU try fighting off a vampire and visiting the Topless Tavern all in one night. Oh, and let's not forget the Blackhearts...and a dark rogue skulking about the roofs at night leading said Blackhearts to said vampire before disappearing into the dark. And nearly being carried off by a lascivious Dwarf by the name Mardiat 'Stonestaff.’" She holds up the dwarf's now-empty money pouch and finishes with, "At least his distraction paid for the rum last night. Maybe too much...but enough about me," she says with a practiced eye roll, "what did you do for fun last night?"
Bilina nearly giggled and shrugged. “Oh, this or that, you know…had to make sure that he lived up to his reputation you know.” As the agent spoke, she teasingly drew a finger from palm to elbow, pantomiming measuring something.
"But seriously, remember that blue-turbaned man we saw in Avgrat's clothier? Then one I chased after because I thought he was going to hurt that poor girl? Well, he got to her last night, and somehow ended up on the roof of the building outside my window. He had her stripped down to her waist and was about to devour her when I managed to stop him. He was a vampire, Lina. I know it. This needs to get to the guards and the Lion. He must be put down before he hurts any other girls!"
An uncomfortable look came over the other woman’s face at the mention of vampires. Bilina’s lips pursed even as her eyes narrowed and glanced off at something only she could see. After a moment her eyes made contact with Livvi’s and she sighed. “Are you sure? Maybe it was some nutter pretending to be a vampire. You might be surprised how often we hear reports of ‘vampires’ and other foul creatures. Citizens are always seeing things they don’t fully understand or are just as often as not some trickster’s disguise or some magical illusion meant to stir up trouble. I wouldn’t take it too seriously.”
Livvi shakes her head - then stops and puts a hand to her now splitting and spinning head. "I know what I saw! That man from Avgrats, the one in the blue turban with the expensive gem can obviously charm women, even one with elven blood, and not just in a normal manner. There is magic at work in this, like a cobra hypnotizing its victim before it strikes. He can disappear in the blink of an eye. His reflection cannot be seen in a mirror. He was about to bite the exposed neck of Lilita. the Grey Lady I told you about. He deflected a full volley of crossbows from the Blackhearts - you know they hit what they are shooting at. And I saw him turn into a giant bat and fly off into the night sky. You have to admit he fits the description of a vampire perfectly!"
“Mmm, something like that.” Bilina flipped through the contents of Livvi’s scroll case, pausing to study one than raising an eyebrow. “Guess the city work’s floobs are going to crack down on unnecessary waste in the city streets,” she said, re-reading the parchment. “I didn’t know that The Lion declared it a finable offense to empty chamber pots in the gutters. Wonder how they’ll get rid of the wastes then.”
Livvi sighed. The sewers ran throughout the city, and most houses had areas inside or directly outside where waste could be deposited directly into them, rather than in the streets where it would sit and fester unless a heavy rain came through. She tried to change the subject to something more interesting. "So, what's all this about an execution of some baker today? Someone trying to give the floobs a spectacle as we draw closer to the Festival?"
“Garse tried to save his hide, not that the Lion’s Justice was hearing any of it,” Bilina said, “Said some floob approached a friend of his, who then tricked him into helping them put some ground glass into a couple of pies destined for the high table at a royal feast scheduled for next week. Say’s this friend is a heavily tattooed Dwarf…”
Nephele returned, setting down Livvi’s order with a smile. "Oh, Nephi, you are my savior!" Livvi takes a long sip of the juice, then settles back to chew on the strip of willow bark. As she relaxes again, images from last night pass through her mind's eye again, until she bolts upright and looks at Bilina. "A heavily tattooed Dwarf, you say? Mardiat had huge tattoo sleeves covering both of his arms. They were vulgar things, depicting graphic scenes involving Centaurs and Elven maids. I don't know how many Dwarves there are in the city - I've seen two now in the past five-day, nor how many of them are heavily tattooed, but this Mardiat fellow fits both descriptions. Maybe later this afternoon we should go look for him."
Still looking distant Bilina gave a short shake, as if warding off a chill, and then smiled. “At the Topless Tavern you say? Please tell me you’re not moonlighting there as a barmaid?”
"Nothing like that, I assure you. I was meeting an old...acquaintance...and he recommended we meet there. He's a bit of a rapscallion and probably thought he'd get a look at me half-naked, but I was trained in the theatrical arts and so painted my torso to look like a mermaid. Although I wasn't actually wearing a top, my private areas were made to look like something else. Still, I have no desire to repeat a visit to that establishment. There is a time and a place to be bare-chested, but very few come to mind when I want to do it in front of a crowd of drunken scoundrels and rogues!" Livvi blushed a bit thinking on her brazen actions the night before.
“Well, I suppose every lead needs to be run down,” Bilina said. “If this is the Dwarf Garse has been screaming about, then we’ll need to track him down and try and find out how the two are connected. The interrogators said that the baker’s assistant repeatedly said that the Dwarf in question was to provide the masks for the party – we assume he meant the same Masquerade that the pies were to be delivered too.”
To Livvi’s trained eye her friend seemed to know more than she was letting on. Both about vampires (or at least one, anyway) roving the cities night and what was going on with this conspiracy to assassinate somebody or somebodies at Altar the Lion’s ball. The Blue Cobra sipped slowly at the iced tea Nephele had brought her. "I know that look, Lina. You're holding something back. Well, haven't I proven to you that I am good at finding things out? That I can get information and leads? And that I am reliable to bring them to you? Spill it..."
Bilina met her gaze evenly. “Trust me, Livvi. The official stance is that there are no vampires in this city…ever. The current king’s council won’t suffer any, and I quote, ‘blood sucker nonsense’. Unofficially, I don’t know,” she admitted, perhaps a bit too glibly for Bilina, who always knew exactly what she said and how she said it to have the precise effect that Bilina desired. No - a seemingly casual comment was, in fact, a well-placed pause to achieve a desired outcome. Livvi wondered if Bilina was trying to brush her off, or protect her from the deep, dark secrets the city of Tarantis harbored.
“Anyway, I need to go. If you see that Dwarf again, let me know.” Smiling she got up and headed for the front door, passing Nephele as the server came over to the table to pick up the empties.
The half-elf maid watches her mysterious friend leave, sipping the rest of her juice and finishing the pastry in front of her. Livvi grabs her announcement tube and takes the willow bark with her as she sets out to give the announcements for the day. At least her head was no longer filled with pounding hammers - the juice and bark finally acting to counter the effects of the booze from last night...
“I kinda envy you and your friend,” Nephele said as she returned to check on Livvi and to pick up any empties. “All the adventures and excitement, anyway… I’ll bet you’ve been invited to half the parties and masquerades planned for next week.
The green haired girl tittered and blushed slightly. “Oh, you. Weeelll, yes, I have been invited to a couple private parties and I’m planning on attending one or two of the street parties, too. In fact, after work this evening I’m going to Karstarman’s to pick out a mask. Perhaps not as posh as the one your getting, I’m sure, but something mysterious.”
The evening was just beginning. There was the Darkan’s Cotillion invitation, another beautifully written invitation for a private dinner party at Arman Flander a few hours before moonfest (midnight). Sub-minister for Internal Communications, Flander’s was a thin, wealthy bureaucrat in The Lion’s government. He over saw the city criers, bell ringers, what passed for a public information service – dis-service depending on who you asked. Self-important, lecherous, devious floob, Arman was one of Vizzini’s cronies, one who literally drooled all over himself whenever she was present. Other parties and balls were in the offing as the Silver Festival was fast approaching (starts in three days and lasts a week which is 5 days in length). A five-day filled with private and public rivalry, celebrating some great event over a thousand a years ago, so long ago in fact, few remember the event being celebrating. A week of exotic parties, elaborate gowns and masks, a license for even the poorest in the city to loosen their belts and enjoy life.
Boo looks at the private dinner party invitation from Arman with mild amusement as she thinks back on past parties with his ogling stares and roaming hands. If anything, he is persistent so it would a shame to disappoint the poor dear. Boo decides it is probably best to accept the invitation just to keep on his good side. As for the rest of the upcoming events, Boo as usual plans to attend as many as possible noting that her social calendar seems to be filling up quite nicely!
The Chamberlin was in the manor’s den going over the week’s expenses. Short, scrawny, overly perfumed man who regularly shaved his head to disguise the fact he would have been mostly bald anyway. Terkan Vizzini was the families oldest living retainer, having been inherited from the former disgraced noble whose title had been granted to Boo’s father. There had been a lot of talk, she had come to understand, about how the former noble family had earned the ire of Dejak the Lion, the current high lord and king’s father. There was a big scandal, and an assassination attempt, one that her father had been able to tip off Dejak’s Head Adviser, allowing the cities secret police – the Blue Cobra’s – to intervene in time. As a reward, and, she’d heard rumored, as an abject lesson to the rest of the nobility, her father had been ennobled.
“…179 gold crowns for a new gown? Now Bossandie, really? You have a score of them already,” groused Vizzini. “And this?” He shuffled through a stack of receipts until he found one from the cities most prestigious mask maker. “227 gold crowns for a custom mask? What would your father say?”
Boo gives Vizzini a pouty face as she innocently bites her lip, "Dominar," she whines, "I have already worn all of those gowns publicly, and you very well know that if I show up in previously worn apparel at a society event that tongues will wag! I am only thinking of you my sweet, your reputation among your peers would surely diminish as a result. You wouldn't want to me send off to represent you, your interests, the house in used rags, would you? Besides I thought you enjoyed showing me off as a trophy, seeing me dressed in the finest, most revealing gowns, the envy of all the other ladies in attendance. And as for my father, I am sure he would consider the money very well spent given the importance of maintaining the family's social standing and royal connections."
The sensual young Tiefling moves in closer to Vizzini reaching out to lightly caress his chin before slowly pressing her soft lips ever so lightly against his cheek teasing him, "how about later, I give you a preview of the new gown and mask, you know, try it on just for you alone," she whispers seductively in his ear, "I know you enjoy watching me like that don't you and besides the gown I have other garments, new unmentionables that I am positive you will find most pleasing to your very discerning eye. As long as you remember the rule, no touching!"
Vizzini sighed even as she felt his eyes roaming over her as she stepped lightly towards the window overlooking Ivory street. At a second glance Boo saw a familiar looking halfling female loitering near the gated entrance to the Vandercrowns townhouse across the street. Elina Perky, if that was her true name, had been her go-between for the mysterious customer with the magically locked bag of holding.
He was about to respond when she turns back to giving him a polite respectful curtsy, "well, I know how busy you are, so with your permission, I will withdraw and leave you to your work." Without delay, Boo exits the study closing the doors behind her then locates one of the housemaids and sends her out to fetch the Halfling girl telling the maid, "her name is Elina Perky, please go outside and escort the poor dear inside using the rear servant's entrance and provide her with something to eat in the kitchen and let her know I will be with her shortly."
A little later Boo makes her way to the kitchen to collect Elina and takes her to her the antechamber to her bedroom for a little privacy, "if you please, my dear, next time go around to the servant's entrance and announce yourself and one of the servants will then inform me of your arrival otherwise loitering like that you risk one of the neighbors setting the watch on you or worse and no one wants that do they? Now on to business, I take it you have message or request for me?"
Finishing off one of the spicy sweet muffins that the manor’s cook was famed for Elina turned and flashed a playful, teasing smile up at Boo. “But Boo, how can I admire all the pretty things in the neighborhood if I’m walking down the quarter’s alleys? After all, isn’t that the whole point of all this ostentatious display but to tease and toy, hmm?”
“Every inch of you is a dreamy tease, Boo,” the curvaceous Halfling’s tongue curled up slightly as she grinned and openly ogled Boo before giving a deep, theatrical sigh. “My mistress speaks very highly of you and the services you provide, you know. Very highly. I think she would like to get to know you better, but she sighs and says that it might put you in danger and lessen your courier status. “
Boo smiles and shrugs, "suit yourself, my dear I understand your desire to have a good look about, take in and admire the scenery but you should really see it all from above, it is all the more breathtaking." The Tiefling studies the Halfling closely, she likes this one but then Boo has a weakness for the cheeky ones, they are always much more fun.
"Oh, thank you for the compliment, I take it that you don't think my beauty is too ostentatious then? Sometimes it is more a curse than a blessing, but I cannot complain. You are quite fetching yourself, my dear, I think we share common interests to explore further when time is not an issue. But please do give your mistress my sincere thanks for her kindness and her concern for my safety and wellbeing."
A titter ripples through Elina as she tugs the familiar pouch that was larger on the inside than the outside and spun it in a circle than caught it deftly again. “Are you ready for festival week? I’ve been invited to several parties and one masquerade so far but they’ll be pretty pedestrian I’ll bet, compared to those parties you nob’s are planning. Why, I hear that the Maigrinstaff’s are throwing one this year? It’s a rare thing, you know. For one of the top families in Tarantis, the Maigrinstaff’s are not known for their social status climbing.”
Boo giggles, "yes, this my favorite time of year, so many parties, so little time." The Tiefling smiles at the Halfing, "hold that thought and stay right there, I shall just be a moment," she says as she heads into her bedroom, to her wardrobe to locate an old masquerade gown, and mask putting them into a pillowcase and returns to Elina, "here you go, my dear, it is used I fear but still in excellent condition. It is an old one that I wore when I but a young girl, not a perfect fit but a clever one such as yourself surely knows someone who can do wonders with it, a few snips, some alterations and you will wow them all at your masquerade. My gift to you, we girls need to stick together after all."
Even as she took the pillowcase there was a calculating look in the Halfling’s eye, searching for hidden costs or meanings in the casual seeming gift. Half a moment later there was an almost imperceptible shrug and the smile returned. Elina looked at Boo with sincere admiration.
“Thank you, Boo. It wasn’t necessary but it is very much appreciated.”
Sitting back down Boo adds, "just remember that even the poorest pedestrian gathering can sometimes rival if not exceed the fun and excitement of the most elaborate and expensive of nob affairs. I have been known to slum it from to time, so I know. If you manage to get the gown all sorted then come back and see me and we will discuss my taking you with me to one my nob masquerade events and you can take me to yours so that we can compare together, shall we? As for the Maigrinstaff gathering, I don't if I have gotten an invite from them, so I will have to look into that, who knows."
“I’ll bet you’ll get invited,” the Halfling said, staring dreamy eyed at Boo for a moment. “You are sooo exotic and beautiful.” The slender, diminutive woman was idly toying with the magical lock on the bag. “Besides isn’t that the biggest fun of all? The masquerades? Everyone in disguise, well, mostly anyway,” she tittered again.
Boo shrugs, "perhaps, we shall see."
“Oh, yea…here” Elina hands over the pouch and for a moment her cultured and mannered voice picks up some street common, “Ta’ mistress wants tha’ bag to go to Lep Stax, da owner o’ the Eight Star? Best be keepin’ it under wraps til ya can hand it over out o’ view of his clients.”
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. The owner, one Lep Stax was rumored to be well connected with the local underworld, some rumors even suggesting that he headed the powerful Night Stalker’s thief’s 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.
Boo accepts the pouch from Elina and slips it inside her pack and escorts the Halfling with her gift downstairs. On the way, she asks Elina, "if you could do me a small kindness, please be on the lookout for a weaponsmith able to forge a flexible metallic whip capable of conducting an electrical charge from say, a cantrip. If you should discover someone with the necessary skills, then please do let me know. It would be much appreciated." Boo then takes out a servant's token resembling a metal coin engraved with her family's coat of arms, "take this and keep it on your person when you visit this neighborhood and if the watch or anyone gives you any problems show them the token and tell them from time to time that you do odd jobs and run errands for me and they should leave you alone or bring you to me for verification. Keep in mind that it won't do you any good anywhere else outside this neighborhood."
“Oh, that’s easy, especially sense you have the coin,” Elina said, waving one hand dismissively. “You want Captain Hawker. He’s a retired foot captain from the Blackhearts and is reputed to be the best weapons smith in the city. Hawker’s Weapons is the name of his place. He also specialized in restoration and repair of both master work and magical weapons. It’s said that the Captain pays hedge wizards to assist in the creation of new magical works of art or providing enhancing services for existing weapons.”
Once Elina has exited through the servant's entrance then Boo will return to her bedroom to change into suitable attire that won't stand out too much in an establishment like the Eight Star. Boo then when ready will walk out on to her bedroom's balcony and take flight into the night.
It was some hours after moonfest (3am) when Bilina slipped out of the room, leaving Holden lounging on the mussed bed. She had demonstrated just how limber and flexible she could be, and inventive. She had also been insatiable, matching him at every step. During the time they spent together he had discovered that her body held numerous scars and old wounds. From the patterns of several, they had to have been from some sort of magic. She also had a small, blue star tattooed to her left cheek, one only revealed when Bilina had slid off her black leather breeches and the vivid green satin undergarment she wore beneath. From the intricate detail of the tattoo it was easy to imagine that it was the mark of some guild or organization.
Jacob, muscular arms still crossed behind his neck, was left staring dreamily at a male spider being eaten by its female counterpart in a dirty net hanging from the ceiling. He couldn't help and ponder if this now was also going to be his destiny. Somewhere he was wondering on how snakes went about this with their partners, specifically the Cobra. His body—albeit athletic, lean and well capable of keeping the pace with Bilinas' surprising bursts of lustful hunger—held no amount anywhere close to hers regarding hidden secrets. When they were inevitably comparing scars and tattoos, the most he could come up with was an old back injury from falling through a glass pane, and a foolish reminder of a long-lost flame inked on his left pectoral. Love forever, Jenivere. "And then she went on pretending to be Jenivere..." He said closing his eyes, to no one listening.
When Holden finally recovered from his fugue state, he did it with a lurch and the rattling of chains. Bilina had left him there, tied up after the last of their little deaths. "Of course."
Jacob had to do some rather indecorous gymnastics with the only free limbs available in order to get a lock-pick from his thieving tools from inside his leathers, first inside his mouth, then contorting some more, fitting it into the keyhole of the manacles. 18 [+3 dex bonus and +2 proficiency to lock-pick, CD of a standard padlock is usually 15 in 5e]
There was a moment of doubt, but only a moment. After all, he was practiced at this sort of thing. Picking locks that is. In his line of work, one never knew when and where a lock would impede his success. Rather it was getting into something or, in this case, getting out of something, Holden’s skills were up to the task. The lock opened with a soft click and the chain fell away, leaving a reddish swelling behind on his wrist.
On the way out he paused to grab some fresh grilled sausages and hunks of bread sitting on one end of the bar, free to the Eight Star’s remaining patrons. Of which, there were few at this hour. The sun was still climbing out of the sea and the nightly fog dissipating when he returned to the streets.
Jacob took a hearty bite out of a spicy sausage as he was wandering the empty lanterned streets, when he suddenly had to dodge a speeding chariot, even at this ungodly hour of the morning. There were a few well aimed expletives spewed at the speedsters' direction, then Holden went back to the merry chewing of his sausage. He decided to climb up top and sit down on a little wall somewhere with a good view of the misty portside sunrise. Once up there, he leaned back against the still humidly cold crenellation, and took another bite as his face grew warmer from the morning sunshine. The Eight Star sausage was chewy and slightly on the bloody side, but the spicing made it all come together. Life was good, Jacob thought as he bit into the salty bread loaf, except maybe for the distinctive odor of countless chamber pots being emptied out into the canals below at a regular interval from the cities now opening windows. The lanterns at street level were slowly and laboriously being snuffed out one by one as a bearded and ancient looking member of the Lamplighter Guild made his rounds. Below him, at the base of the mossy green wall, he noticed a little, scrumpy and impossibly dirty street urchin that looked like one out of possibly a thousand occupying the forgotten alleyways in Tarantis.
"Here, catch." He threw the generous leftovers of his food down to the kid. The greasy face with blue eyes ran away shortly thereafter, further along the street, where it was intercepted by another, larger kid. As Holden stood up on the wall, the older teenager took away the bread from the little ones' hands, then they both quickly disappeared running into a random canal-road. Jacob sighed, then went on his own way.
Approaching where Gremlinuex Drive and Buccaneer Street intersected, Holden paused as a wagon heavily loaded with cut wood rolled past, drawn by four draft horses. The Garnet Hand used a large business called Worthy’s Wood as its cover. Worthy’s was an age-old business that was well known within the city as it hired large numbers of the lowest classes to travel daily to the Dyrfirwall Wood north of the city to harvest trees to feed a series of lumber mills, also owned by Worthy. The operation generated quite a bit of legitimate income as well as providing the guild recruiters cover as they gleaned the best and brightest deemed suitable for the guilds needs. As he watched the teamsters backed the wagon into one of two large doors where inside, workers waited with block and tackle to unload the cargo. Dozens of such wagons rolled up, sometimes hourly. Within the large, block long structure were more workers with axes and saws, cutting logs into planks, blocks, or splitting and stacking it by cord. Somewhere on the far side, Holden knew, was another pair of doors where local business came to purchase wood or Worthy’s carts exited, bound with delivery’s for homes and businesses alike. After all, even in the hottest months, firewood was in great demand.
Jacob tipped his hood at the sweating workers "Top of the morning gents. Lots of work for you guys this morning, which means lots of work for us guys tonight." It was not unusual that the very same households where a large wood delivery would be made during the daytime were also to be marked with a rune in thieves’ cant for a hit later that night, depending on the size of their coffers and amount of family jewelry. But petty theft was generally not the only thing that The Garnet Hand was up to these days. The boss-lady called it "diversified investment", to Holden it simply reminded his fathers' droning lessons going on and on about "-not putting all of your eggs into the same basket, kiddo." A lot of good did that serve him. The workers were looking at him funny, he must have zoned out for a second. One of them went "Wut, Sir?" Jacob replied "Nah, nothing. Is the boss-lady in? Or quartermaster? I need to see 'em both about something."
The oldest worker present, sweating along with the others or at least appearing to do so, nods, his fingers making a subtle gesture that was as much an answer or more than the gray beards simple nod of the head.
“Boss ladies in her office as usual, sar,” the man added, “Zam’s back near tha woodshavin bins.” Yet another product offered to those in need, sawdust found uses as floor absorbents, floor padding in stalls, and in a few less reputable bakeries’, a food additive.
Holdens' stomach grumbled. Must've been some sawdust in that Eight Star bread too, or inside the sausage... Most likely both. Tarantis had a way of corrupting perfectly good and innocent pleasures, such as a one-night stand. "Thanks fellas." he tipped his hood again in a semblance of decency, which didn't really become his shady nature and wouldn't likely fool anybody, even less so these workers that knew his spiel already, then strode off disappearing into one of the two huge service doors' shadows. Once emerging on the inner side of the yard he could see, or rather hear, quartermaster Zam on the far end of the complex; he seemed busy, loudly shouting and gesticulating in anger at a group of gathered workers and a few hooded figures standing between them, so Jacob decided wisely to instead first try his luck with the upstairs boss-lady.
When Holden climbed the stairs to the balcony overlooking the wagon entrance twenty feet below, he could see the rather extensive wood distribution center serving as a ligament cover for the guild. Near the drive through lane workmen separated the loads coming in. Assaying the type and quality. Some went onto stacks or carts destine for wood smiths and carvers, others would be purchased for finishing work inside homes and shops under construction or being remodeled. Cedar for example, would go to the coopers; walnut, oak, cherry wood would go to the carvers and furniture makers. Rarer woods went to niche customers while the rougher or less desired woods would end up as firewood or base construction materials. Every delivery was an opportunity, the boss lady liked to say.
Near the center of the balcony was the office – several rooms combined plus another set of stairs leading to the rooftop, made up Worthy’s Wood’s public and private offices. Outside the door lounged a mismatched pair. Darbert is a paunchy, former pit fighter turned guild enforcer, probably assigned to loiter around for security reasons. Nearby, Harrietta Kneer had her slightly pointed nose deep between the pages of some thick, boring looking tomb. Various focuses and talismans dangled from her clothes, hair, and shoes. Whenever someone asked if she was a mage, she wrinkled her nose, sniffed and rolled her sea gray eyes. She preferred the term sage to mage but never explained why.
"Hello gang—" Jacob greeted the odd couple, he knew this would annoy Harrietta to no end, as she always insisted on form over substance. Darbert however was a different story entirely. Holden prepared to be greeted by violent pats on the shoulder and a patronizing sneer respectively. "What's going on downstairs? What in the hells bells is that floob Zam preaching?"
“Eh, wha? – “Darbert started to say but was interrupted by Harrietta who peered up over the edge of her book at Holden and said, “Apparently there’s a big debate going on about rather or not the proper amount of deliveries have been made to the palace,” she said with a sniff. Even as she explained the skinny wizard’s eyes drifted down to some point near his crotch as it often did whenever she was present in the room. “Worthy’s won the contract to supply both the palace and the royal stable’s with various wood products and Lady Carimia wants to keep it.” Aside from the obvious lucrative contract’s value in gold crowns it gave the guild a backdoor means to gaining entry to the palace quarter and all it contains. The Lady was always preaching that information and ear bending was more valuable than snatching valuables than fencing them.
Jacob wasn't really interested. There was always something or the other going sideways, that's why he preferred freelance work or outside business, less guild restrictions. But he still had to pay his percentage. Being in a guild came with both perks and a few disadvantages. As far The Garnet Hand was concerned, they were mostly interested in profiteering and keeping up their appearance; no bloody murder- at least not directly- which seemed to suit Holden perfectly fine. Sometimes however Worthy’s Wood would provide the sawdust to other factions in order to soak up the blood after the fact. "I need to see the boss-lady about a job and make a deposit." Jacob interrupted whatever guild drama he was being told about.
“Yeah, da La – “
“Go on in, Jacob,” Harrietta said, her eyes still focused on something other than his eyes, “Lady Carimia’s expecting you.”
Darbert nodded. “Stuck ‘er head out an’ said, ‘Holden’s on ‘is way up, send him in.”
After which Jacob curtsied to Harrietta in an overtly exaggerated fashion, to the point that his mocking face was so low as to almost meet her wandering gaze. As to Darbert, he was a wholesome but strange fellow; he used to sometimes jovially and out loudly narrate everything that was presently happening around him, including actions and things that were said and done (or not said and done) by others, which would annoy his fastidious mage companion- pardon, lofty sage- even more. Holden couldn't abstain himself from joining in with a little narrative fun of his own making; "And before departing in great haste, he would verily thank m'Lord and m'Lady for their generous permission, and indeed, utmost attention to his nether parts."
The big goon grinned and nearly took Holden off his feet with a slap on the back while the mage, a faint blush on her face, stuck her nose back into her book as he reached for the door handle. Inside, the room was a mixture of working office and a modestly well-off grandmother’s solar. A pair of desks flanked the door, two middle aged clerk’s busy scribbling away in ledgers or on parchments. Both looked up as he entered. Twins, Sade and Fraed greeted him with matching nods. The room was large with the inner wall one large series of paned glass windows overlooking the main floor below. A short hallway on the left wall led to a couple of rooms while on the right wall there was an opening leading to some stairs heading up to the roof. Flowered curtains half blocked the windows with a large, matching flowering carpet covering part of the floor. Near the center of the room was a couple of plush chairs, end tables with cut glass lamps and vases holding flowers and somebody’s grandmother.
“Hello, Jacob,” Lady Carimia said with a grandmotherly smile. Once a fem fatale and an infamous jewel thief, among other things, now the savvy guild master of the cities largest (by it’ own estimation of course) thieves guild. “Come, come, give me a hug, you big bugbear.”
Holden grinned "And let you pickpocket all of the ill-gotten-gains I got from my last employer? No." Instead the finely cut and moderately sized gem given by Bilina was preemptively set on the table in front of them. It reflected the office; multiple instances of a big dysfunctional family included; eagerly scribbling twins, grandmother in audience, and her prodigal grandson returned, or at least that's the way it would've looked to a clueless outsider. "If it's all the same to you, I would rather leave this pretty thing here as a deposit for some gear and a little information." Jacob waited a moment, then, seeing that he was not shooed away- and since the boss-lady already had acknowledged him with her usual matriarchal, and perhaps more than just a tiny bit patronizing way- he sat down across her.
A smile came over the old woman’s face. As was her ritual before business Lady Carimia glanced towards the twins. One in a white turban, the other in green, stood without a word and exited through the hallway on the left. Even as the accountants left a middle-aged woman with short blonde hair entered, bringing a tray with hot tea, several more potent beverages, and a bowl of almond cookies. Farra had retired years ago from the enforcement section of the guild after suffering a near mortal wound that left her weakened. This would have been end of her usefulness to many other guilds, which would have given her a barely adequate stipend and sent her on her way. Not the The Garnet Hand. Farra was a wealth of knowledge on the city’s street gangs and the workings of the City Guard. With a polite nod to Jacob, she turned and left gracefully, the slight limp to her left leg barely noticeable until she reached the hallway. Lady Carimia moved over to the tray.
“Tea? Something stronger?” Even as she asked, she poured a cup of tea then added a short shot of Kailmaria spiced rum. “I heard that you had a busy evening…”
She might've come across as grandmotherly, but to Jacob it was always obvious that she must've been one hell of a charmer once. A certain indelible elegance in posture survived all of her years, and her superficially welcoming eyes hid an insatiably gleeful, opportunistic and greedy cunning. She wasn't the boss-lady for nothing. Holden quickly and summarily caught her up with everything: Garse the Gaffers' weaponized bodily gasses - lil' Guildless Goddesses Tits’ being sent by the Widow - the Blackheart and his Ground Floor Flunkies - the Silver Haired Beauty and her Fanged Rooftop Dancer. Jacob kind of forgot himself in the telling, and just stopped shy of being left tied up at an Eight Star bed-post by Bilina. He also didn't exactly specify what he was up to right now with the wooden vial, that he indeed still had it, or what it contained exactly. It was common and well-respected practice that, except in extraordinary circumstance, freelance jobs or outside work should remain private, unless it would directly interfere with guild business. Lady Carimia loved to hear a good story, but she also usually did not want to be bothered with everyone's' and their brothers' dirty laundry. As long as profits kept coming in, and the key bits of intelligence would reach the correct places. Having said that, it was left to her deciding what information truly was or was not worth special attention. She would ask if she needed or did not indeed already know about everything.
"And then, there's a pocket-sized matter that needs resolving with a certain Half-Orc floob, or the other." Holden proceeded in describing his target. "Does he ring any bells? I was promised more of these where they came from-" Jacob pointed at the twinkling gem between them on the table. "-very good pay for mere second story handiwork, I would say." More questions were asked, such as "Do you have any idea who this Halfling is, or the Widow giving her a competing contract?" and "Have you ever seen this sort of starry symbol here?" (Referring to Bilinas' tattoo) Holden would crudely draw it on a piece of parchment with some Worthy Woods' charcoal, showing it to the boss-lady, grinning, like a nobles' kid to their mother after painting it in art-school.
“Goodness, child, you’ve definitely had a busy evening. Mmm, yes. Well, Farra was telling me the other day that there’s a new bounty hunter operating in the city who fits this Half-Orc’s description. A real bruiser, she says on the account that he got his start as a pit fighter in the shadow arenas” – illicit gambling joints and blood pits where floobs bet on the outcomes of no-holes-barred fights (think fight club). Control of the arenas were split evenly between the Street Artist Collective and the Night Stalkers, which operated the pits, oversaw the betting and collections but left them open to anyone brave enough or desperate enough to dance on the bloody sands.
Jacob hovered forward, fishing for a cookie. He simply couldn't help it. "Brave, desperate or maybe foolish-" Holden thought out loud as he was munching. There were real almonds in these cookies. Jacob thought that they must be strange peanuts.
Sipping her fortified tea, Lady Carimia nodded, “I believe that Farra said his name is Mordecai, if he has a surname, it is unknown. I believe that the Half-Orc makes regular visits to talk with the senior clerk in the sub ministry of communications. Haven’t heard anything about this, how did you put it? This lil' Guildless Goddesses Tits?” The old woman’s eyes twinkled at the flowery title. “The Widow, however, is very well known to me. I have had a lot of dealings with and against that one.” A slight frown caused the skin around Lady Carimia’s mouth to crinkle. “The Widow is an enigma, in that nobody seems to know her name, which is darn odd since there’s references to the woman going back several centuries. Of course, it could be different women taking up the mantle so to speak. Some believe she’s related to one of the older great noble families and that she’s a mage, perhaps archmage. I’ve met her in several locations over the years, but her favorite is her gilded black coach.” There was a twinkle in the guild mistresses’ eye and Holden got the feeling that she knew far more about this Widow than she was willing to share.
Jacob paid special attention with his cookie as to not make a mess of crumbles. He was famous for not leaving evidence, after all. "Mages are bad for business. A fighter like that Mordecai you can trick and lead by the nose, but spell-casters, nah, they'll probably see you coming a mile away, with nothing to go on but a hunch from their crystal bauble. Cheaters..." Holden grumbled, remembering the last job that made him climb a sorcerers' tower, only to find out that the occupant had already moved all of their valuables to a winter residence and filled the place with all sorts of arcane traps and ambushes.
“Mmm, I was mulling this bit of story about this silver-haired beauty and her alleged vampire companion. I can honestly say that the women dose not strike any cords, dear. That said, it if were a vampire that you crossed, a true vampire – after all, there area always kooks or floobs who get off masquerading as terrible beasts, especially this close to the cities major festival, that it could have been a regular man, perhaps one enspelled or a caster creating an illusion.”
Holden stroked his curly and short trimmed beard "Yeah, like we were saying. Damned magical kooks and their shenanigans, as if kooks or magics alone weren't enough trouble already, they have to combine and run amok on the rooftops." In truth this was faux indignation, as Jacob was already thinking about all the chaos that the festival would bring, and how he could probably do an easy score, or two, completely on the side, straight cash grabs, no fencing or guild contributions required.
Setting the empty teacup down Lady Carimia picked up Holden’s sketch and studied the symbol for a moment. “I suspect it’s a sigil for some society or organization, probably secret. Then again, it could simply be a tattoo. I can give this to Farra and ask her to check with some of our experts and see what pops up.”
Jacob answered promptly "Yes, I would be very thankful for that, m'am boss-lady." he was already in the process of picking himself up from the padded seating, since Carimia always had a way to make you far too comfortable for your own good. Holden decided that it would be wiser he got on his way before something slipped his mouth that would inevitably get him into trouble. "With your say so, I've got a time sensitive job to do and you've been very helpful with information, I'll put it to good use and be sure to mention if something of equal interest comes up." Jacob stopped mid-way, just before letting go of the chairs' armrests, somehow compelled to add one more thing before leaving "Just so you know, that Half-Orc is probably going to get into a whole lot of trouble, very soon like." then he added, grinning that mischievous dreamy half smile otherwise only reserved for Bilina, as if he was still under a spell of hers "Not by any direct means, mind you."
The guild mistress gave him a knowing smile then frowned slightly, her eyes looking off at some point on the far wall for a moment before returning to meet his. “Jacob, take care out there. If this vampire nonsense turns into something, then our guild will need to know. Tarantis is a big city, and very, very old. Its roots go deep and we’ve had problems with these…creatures in the past. More times than all but the hardcore sages want to admit. They can be hard to kill.” The old woman gave a grim snort. “What’s already dead should stay dead, after all.”
Holden nodded as he was leaving "Yeah, barely enough elbow space for the living here in Tarantis." And just like that, with a cookie-holding backhand wave, and no further formality, he was out of the boss-ladies' office.
As they walked through the narrow, filthy lanes passing as street’s in the Poor Quarter the evening’s darkness settles over the city like a wool blanket. Cooler than usual, the humidity was high, and the sea mists quickly turns into a thick fog. What few lights that appeared were dim, as if the night was working to snuff them out.
“What do you know about ravens? Raven’s with blood red markings on their wings, like splashed paint,” Mordecai asked.
Lilita thinks for a moment, "I'm sorry, I don't ever recall seeing or hearing anything about ravens with red markings. Why do you ask, did you run across one recently?"
Mordecai pauses as if trying to remember, then says, "Hadara mentioned them during his fever dreams while we were at the vardo the other night. We saw one when we exited the sewers and I think I saw one another time I can't quite remember. There's something about them - they happen to be nearby whenever there's... death. I've never noticed them before and Hadara seems to know more than what he lets on, so I thought there might be a connection with what's been going on lately. It could just be coincidence."
Lilita nods and picks up her pace, "my pursuers, yeah take your pick; Captain Kelban Bessari and his Blackhearts, my noble monster and there are Nicci and her clan... perhaps more, who knows. I guess they all rather enjoy my company... don't you think? But it is nice to be noticed and wanted... even if for all the wrong reasons. Sort of makes me feel like a popular girl! How many ravens I wonder... just one could be a familiar you know watching for its master or mistress and I heard rumor some lucky mages being able to turn a familiar into a whole flock or maybe that is just an exaggeration or rumors you know spellslingers enjoy bragging! I can't wait for you to meet the fey goddess; I think you are going to like her!!! I like her, she nice and has a lot of confidence and swagger for a female but when you are a beautiful exotic courtesan, I suppose you can afford to be."
"The more you call her a fey goddess courtesan, the more I'm convinced she's not and that perhaps she has you charmed," Mordecai responds. He then says with an eyebrow arched up, "You will also have to explain the circumstances of how you came to meet all these people because, well, it's not normal for half the city to chase you about without deserving it."
Mordecai loosens his glaive and swings it to a defensive position in front of him. Through gritted teeth, tusks bared, he tells Lilita, "Hush - we aren't alone in this fog."
A large shape moved in the fog, something on all fours yet nearly reaching Mordecai’s waist. The fog also served to distort a low rumble, something primal sounding and hungry.
"All right you overgrown puppy, Mordecai states coolly as he extends the wicked end of the glaive at the shadow in the fog, "You just pop off where you came from and I won't have to hang your head over my fireplace."
"Right, overgrown kitten," Mordecai responds, "Didn't catch a good glimpse of it through the fog." He then looks at her incredulously, saying, "I don't have a pet tiger."
Lilita looks at the creature not sure to make of it, a tiger in the city is not something you see every day. She whispers to Mordecai, "it's a kitty, not a puppy... you never told me you had a kitty! Don't do anything to provoke it, let me try to put it to sleep."
Slowly Lilita attempts to cast Sleep on the poor beast ((2nd Level Spell Slot 7d8 – Rolled 37)) holding her breath more than frightened, worried more for Mordecai than herself. The creature pauses, snarling softly than shaking its head. She could be wrong, but the beast seemed to be sneering at her attempt. The Tiger did, however, halt out of range of Mordecai’s glaive, her – Lilita was positive it was a female, though how, she didn’t have time to ponder.
"Just because you're trying to make it sleepy, doesn't mean you should cast so slowly," comments Mordecai. His eyes narrow, "That's no normal tiger and the beast recognizes me." He continues holding the glaive up waiting for Lilita's spell to take effect.
Lilita looks Mordecai feeling her spell fizzled which is probably for the best as something doesn't seem right. Hearing Mordecai's words about the beast possibly recognizing him and Lilita's own suspicions. She stands silently agreeing that the tiger is not a normal beast otherwise it would have attacked them by surprise which it did not!
Lilita steps forward placing her hand out to hold Mordecai back... for him to hold his position, "bear with me please, don't attack or provoke it," while she slowly takes another couple of steps forward holding both open-hands out showing it that she is not holding any weapon and speaks to it as she would person, not an animal... addressing the tiger.
"Noble tigress, I am Lilita Lilitu and my large companion here is my protector Mordecai, we mean you no harm. Have you come to escort us somewhere? If so... show us the way and we shall follow you at a discreet distance for your and our peace of mind." Lilita slowly once again takes another couple steps forward towards the beast, "go on now... show us!" She commands!
Mordecai, still holding his action, adds, "Reveal your true self or I'll see to it that you end up as food for the true street cats and dogs of this city."
The big cat sat back on her haunches and gave a toothy yawn as if bored. Then, there was a painful sounding yowl and before their eyes the beast stood on its hind legs, its features morphing into something between the tiger and a human. A human whose face, while still feline, reminded Lilita instantly of someone that she’d only seen that morning, before sunrise.
“Owl’s might eat bats, if they’re lucky to catch one, but cat’s eat birds,” Nicci said in her sultry, feline toned voice. The weretiger’s eyes flicked to take in the Half-Orc. “That yours?”
Not lowering his weapon, Mordecai responds, "Is what mine?"
Lilita's smiles pleasantly at the weretiger, "Nicci my dear, what a pleasant surprise! So, have you come to eat me then? You could have easily done so back at the Black Rose or just after I left on my way home, it must have been maddening to wait for permission," she quips... her manner and demeanor seeming to change with discovering the beast was in fact Nicci!
Then a quick aside to Lilita, "Do you know her? Or are you always this... submissive?" he asks, never taking his eyes off the weretiger.
Then Lilita turns to Mordecai, "do you know this tart? She serves the house of the Black Rose! What do you really want Nicci?"
Lilita gives Nicci a hard-stern look not trusting her... knowing she could suddenly attack without warning but Lilita gets the impression that this cat enjoys playing a bit with its prey... and who knows she might have other motives so Lilita is prepared either way to wait and try to learn more.
“Aww, is the big bad tusker worried about lil’ ole me?” Nicci sneers at Mordecai briefly before turning her focus on Lilita. “Eat you? Oh, sweet one, if I had you wouldn’t have ever wanted to leave.” The weretiger’s tongue caressed one of her fangs almost indecently. “I might yet get a chance before the night is over. Such ill manners you displayed, marking my master’s territory with your garbage graffiti. It took the Black Rose’s resident arcanist all of a half a minute to erase it of course, but after such curtesy shown to you by Mistress Diamonique? I imagine that the master will be quite wroth when he returns.”
"Worry? My only worry is making sure the sharp end of this stick finds its way through your fur," Mordecai replies.
Lilita's demeanor continues to shift and change as she smiles at Nicci... and taunts her, "yeah I did, didn't I... and you not only stood there and watched me do it but you let me walk out of there too as bold as brass! Why is that I wonder? You are here for me without permission aren't you little kitty? You want to make me pay, take a little dead birdie home to place on your master's pillow hoping to win his favor and approval but doing so without his permission is only going to get you into trouble! Go home now Nicci before it's too late."
A hungry gleam enters the beast woman’s eyes as she all but purrs, tail flicking behind her. “You need punished, lil’ princess, yes, yes, oh but punished good for your bad manners.”
Mordecai sees the expression on Lilita's face, then comments to Nicci, "Something tells me you might be the who grabbed the tiger by the tail."
Lilita, without a word of warning she coldly reaches behind her and pulls out the Wand of Lightning Bolts and without any hesitation unleashes its power directly at Nicci using up 2 charges instead of 1... her usually passive and submissive nature drowned out by a growing tempest inside mind calling for blood, calling for vengeance!
Nicci’s scream of pain and rage came as a snarling yowl that was nearly drowned out by the crackling discharge of lightning. The bolt’s raked over and around her so fast that they appeared as one and continued shooting down the alley, arching and blasting in random places along the way. One hit a metal pole or pipe causing it to glow. Other tendrils touched of a half dozen small fires, some in the garbage piled along the walls, other’s the wall’s themselves.
With wisps of lingering electrical discharge racing around her body the weretigress charged. In the narrow confines of the alley her charge at Lilita took Nicci straight at Mordecai where she slashes out with one clawed hand. [Att 14+6=20 vs. AC 16 > Hit > 8+3=11 damage > location Knee = Roll Dex with DC 10 to avoid being knocked down]
Mordecai winces as leg, attempting to knock him down, but manages to maintain his footing. As Nicci tries to get by Mordecai to reach Lilita, Mordecai reacts seeing an opportunity and swings his glaive at the weretiger using his skills as a battlemaster to try and push her back down the alley she came.
The glaive finds its target tearing into the weretiger!
The half woman half tiger screamed, more out of rage of being thwarted than pain from the strike. The kinetic energy behind Mordecai’s swing caught the weretiger, grazing her head the impact sent her reeling back where she would have slammed into the brick wall of a vegetable monger’s shop but her enhanced reflexes allowed her to recover quickly.
Mordecai steadies himself for a brief moment catching his second wind BS then squares himself off against Nicci, interposing himself between the weretiger and Lilita.
Lilita's anger continues to build as Mordecai puts himself between her and her target and screams, "don't try to protect her from my wrath Mordecai, I am going to spay this little kitty... so even her master won't want her!!!" Even as Lilita screams her taunt she darts to the side seeking to target Nicci without Mordecai being in her line of fire she brings the Wand of Lightning Bolts to bear again expending two charges as before... unleashing her fury upon Nicci. [Damage rolled 24 > DC 15 vs Dex Save Roll 14 (failed) GM Note: wand has 3 uses left for the day]
Lightning snapped and crackled, lighting up the narrow alley and connecting fully with the Weretiger. Nicci screamed as every limb spasmed and shook. The impact lifting her up and knocking her nearly a hundred feet away and sending her crashing into stacks of decaying husks, peels, and other inedible vegetable leftovers. And in a flash, darkness and the fog swallowed her up and leaving sundogs dancing before both your eyes.
Mordecai tries to cover his eyes. His jaw drops slightly once he takes note of the damage. He comments to Lilita, "Seems like giving you the wand was a wise decision. Also seems like you have some repressed anger - I hope to never be on the receiving end of it."
Lilita, the static in the air around her causes her silver hair to go all frizzy and stand up as she looks on in wide-eyed surprise as Nicci is sent flying before vanishing into the darkness.
Pain and outrage tinting her scream, Nicci’s voice comes out of the darkness. “Your dead, Lilita Lulitu, do you hear me? Dead!”
"Running away are we little kitten? Bit off more than you could chew with this one, eh?" Mordecai taunts. The grip on his glaive gives a little as he relaxes a bit.
Lilita calls out into the darkness, "do what you gotta do Nicci, I still love you."
There was no response from Nicci, the only sounds the crackle of a few fires.
Lilita shrugs and turns to Mordecai, "she must be serious... she used both my names, that is usually a good indicator someone hates your guts, right? I am sorry if you feel left out because she didn't say your name too, that was rude of her but I am sure she meant you too... so don't worry about it or we can find you an archnemesis of your very own if you like though I have plenty and don't mind sharing."
He looks down at his glaive and says, "You didn't even put a mark on her hide. I'll have to find a way to make sure that doesn't happen again."
Putting the wand away Lilita pulls out her healer's kit.
Mordecai stops her, "Thanks, but not necessary - it's not as bad as it looks. Besides, we should not hang about. You can check it later if you insist." If one were to look at the cut he received, the damage expected seems not to have been inflicted.
He pauses to look at the young woman. He admits, "You're a lot tougher than you look. And I'm sorry for ever having doubted you. I hope you never doubt yourself either."
Looking at the fires scattered about Lilita turns to Mordecai, "oh dear look at what you did Mordecai, we better put them out before we continue on to visit the fey goddess. I think it would be a good idea to see about getting your weapons silvered and maybe getting some wooden stakes as soon as we can but then this isn't your fight Mordecai, I don't want to drag you into something. Trouble has a way of following me wherever I go I guess."
Mordecai looks at her incredulously, "I'll skip over the fact that you don't seem to remember unleashing a hell of lightning, we don't have time to put out small fires. It's nightfall and if we just chased off the servant, the master is soon to follow. Let's get moving!"
Lilita starts attempting to stamp out the smaller fires and uses her cloak to try to beat the larger ones before continuing on mumbling...
Mordecai sighs, "gods be damned." Mordecai grabs Lilita and begins dragging her away from the fires, moving in the direction the pair was initially headed. He shouts out, "Fires in the alley! Nicci the weretiger’s started fires in the alley! Fires in the alley!"
Lilita is caught by surprise as Mordecai grabs her and starts to drag her off but does not resist as she looks up at him in confusion, "what are you doing Mordecai, the fires are dangerous, we should put them out before they spread and hurt someone," she stammers innocently looking at the flames.
He pushes Lilita in front of him, "You somehow unbelievably do not understand the concepts of danger and haste. Let me put it bluntly: creatures that we cannot kill are about to wake up and hunt us down. So, get a move on. We can't be outside at nightfall."
Lilita looks about, "really? Where? But you hurt Nicci and scared her off Mordecai, what is there to worry about, she was all alone." Even so picks up the pace and follows his lead periodically looking back to see if someone is, in fact, chasing them.
He picks up some ash and charcoal and tells Lilita as he's pushing her along, "Put some of this ash on you, it should help disguise your scent some."
Lilita starts to cough and sputter getting some ash in her mouth and up her nose... she begins to sneeze and tries to push him away but totally outclassed quickly gives up and whimpers, "Mordecai, what are you doing, this a new dress and a gift at that... you are getting it all dirty," she complains loudly! "When the fey goddess sees me like this... all dirty she will surely think I am an unwashed beggar, this is terrible."
He gathers a handful of ash and applies it to various spots on his body.
Lilita watches as Mordecai rubs ash on himself then gives in and follows his lead... rubbing ash all over herself and looking if she wants to cry as she looks down at the state of her dress, "it's ruined, this will never come out!"
"Like I said," Mordecai replies, "this Nicci character will return and with others - I understand her type, they do not take kindly to losing and will stack the odds in their favor to ensure it doesn't happen again. AND, if I understood your little exchange with her correctly, she works for those vampires and Strigoi - so it'd be safe to assume that they'd be after you as soon as the sun is under the horizon, they'll be coming out for a piece of you, as well."
Lilita looks at the setting sun and back to Mordecai, "well yes, Nicci serves those at the Black Rose but as for my Noble Monster, not so much... the two sides are feuding or so I have been led to believe."
"This is why I suggested we use some of the ash to hide our scent," Mordecai says as he applies dabs of ash on where his skin is bare and unclothed. He then looks up at Lilita who had utterly covered her body and dress in ash and merely says, "Errr... I'll have to be more explicit with my suggestions going forward... On the bright side, nothing will be able to find you via scent alone."
Lilita frowns still a bit miffed ruining her new dress, "perhaps those like Nicci cannot track me by scent but my Noble Monster, I think the ash is all but useless since he is capable of crawling inside mind when it amuses him to do so. I assume that is how he found me at the shop where I am employed."
"Now go ahead - lead us to this goddess of your - the rains will cleanse us along the way," Mordecai states flatly. Even as he spoke it there was the sound of distant thunder out on the bay and a hint of rain in the air.
Lilita nods, "Alright then, follow me," she says meekly as she turns and quickly starts walking in the direction of Livvi's.
Traversing the city, they reached the lower end of the Merchant Quarter and wider, better lit streets and as if wanting to help announce their presence the nightly mists were thinner her. Distant thunder was closer, so was the hint of rain. Occasionally there were low flashes of light suggesting lightning as well. Turning a corner, they found themselves across from the Whispering Mane Inn. Before they could cross over, they found their path blocked by many priests and monks passing by in procession three wide. Some beat on shallow drums, others were ringing hand bells or hitting small metal hammers against various metal instruments. Every second formation passing by was singing. “…oh, beautiful city, ancient and true, line your streets in silver, praise the coming of the sun! Oh, beautiful city – “
Lilita looks up at Mordecai, "we're close, just over that way I think, the Whispering... something, I can't remember the rest of it, just on the other side of the procession. Do we wait until they clear the way, or do you have another way?" She asks before starting to join in singing with the crowds clapping her hands together.
"Whispering Mane Inn," Mordecai responds. "So, what should I expect in there?" he asks. He turns to see Lilita singing and clapping...
Lilita looks at Mordecai and stops singing to reply, "it's a regular inn, a very nice one at that, posh and upscale, at least in my opinion. No doubt mistress Livvi does very well for herself. As for what to expect your guess is as good mine. The fey goddess has shown a keen fascination in my noble monster so no doubt she will be interested to learn that he is not the only one and that there are also ferocious were-kitties like Nicci prowling the streets as well. I am more concerned with us being so dirty that the inn's matron will not let us through the door. But we need to talk to the fey goddess, she can help us. Is that what you mean by what to expect?"
Mordecai observes the procession for a moment....
Mordecai grumbles quietly to himself, "Were-kitties... Fey goddesses... Noble monsters... It's amazing that she's alive given how seriously she takes all of this." He clears his throat and tells Lilita, "Look the procession is almost over. We can cross after that last priest dances by."
As a lifelong resident he knew that these sorts of things came in all sorts and styles. Just like the nobs and floob of the city were getting worked up for the Festival week, so were the temple types. Everyone, it seemed, wanted in on the act. About to grab Lilita by the elbow and excuse his way through Mordecai spotted the end of the procession. [Perception Check 7+3=10]
As the last priest danced past and the normal street traffic resumed something flew past, just over his head.
Lilita looks up at the much larger Mordecai and nods in agreement.
Mordecai holds Lilita by the arm and escorts her across the street. He suddenly exclaims, "Bloody hell - what was that?!?"
Mordecai looks around to see what may have dove by his head.
Lilita quickly turns her head upward, trying to follow the direction of his gaze, attempting to see what his eyes seem to be searching for...Rustling his feathers, a large crow made a low qork sound as he perched on the sign above the inn’s main door. In the ruddy light of the lantern beside the door the red splotches on the bird’s wings were the color of blood.
Mordecai spots the crow, he points it out to Lilita, "See that? I've been seeing that ruddy bird over the past few days and each time I have, something nearby is dead or on its way to being dead."
Lilita looks up at the large crow fearfully for a moment then a look of relief crosses the young woman’s ash spotted face.
He shakes his head, "This is an ill omen."
Mordecai guides Lilita to the inn and opens the door for her.
Lilita will look at Mordecai, "so that is crow that you were talking about before? Maybe it likes you or is just hungry. Perhaps if you feed it something it will go away?"
Mordecai squints his eyes at Lilita, responding, "I'd rather not."
Noting that Lilita stopped to look at the crow, Mordecai goes ahead and enters the inn, patting off what ash he could as he enters.
“Welcome to the Whispering Mane, citizen, I’m Hamron Ilkestoon, proud proprietor – by all the gods, yer a mess!”
He gruffly says to no one in particular, "Fire out in the district - we got caught up in the smoke." Mordecai takes a moment then to observe the space and the people within it, looking and noting possible threats, individuals he may recognize, and escape routes. The entry way opened into a well-lit common room with the standard fireplace, numerous tables and booths and a bar along one wall. Like most of the inn’s in the city, the Whispering Mane was quite crowded. The approaching festival was busy drawing in floobs from both provinces as well as travelers from abroad. Most of the guests peering back at him (or pretending not to stare at him out of curiosity) from where they sat. Conversation dipped then rose again.
Lilita finally came in. "Hello, I am Lilita, a friend of Livvi's, is she at home? Could we see her please or could you please send word up to her that I am here waiting and need to speak to her? Thank you."
"She lives in an inn?" Mordecai asks. "Sure... Why not? Next you'll tell me that she works for the government and still manages to afford all this."
Lilita smiles up at Mordecai, "as far I know she lives here, that is what she said when she brought me here to answer the handsome knight's questions." Then she laughs at Mordecai's comment about Livvi working for the government or some such thing, "No, no, I imagine the fey goddess to be either be a courtesan or an exotic dancer, or both given her immodest attire last evening. It was extremely provocative and sensual so if she works for the government, why would she dress in such a manner? Just wait until you meet her, I am confident you will be taken by her beauty and kindness."
Just then a half-elf walks down the stairs, holding her head up and stepping as if she were royalty.
"An exotic dancer, am I?" she says and chuckles, a sultry kind of laugh that she had learned meant many things to people. Always best to keep them guessing..."Exotic, to be sure. A dancer with the right partner. But I am not what you might think - despite my costume from last night. Of course, you were more exposed than I, missy-miss, and didn't seem in any hurry to cover yourself. So, who is the courtesan, I wonder?" Livvi finishes with a wink at Lilita. "And who is your massive friend? Where was he last night when you needed someone like him to watch out for you?"
Lilita gives Livvi a look of confusion, "I am not sure if I remember that part as you do m'lady, the events of that evening are a bit hazy for me I fear." Then turns to smile up at Mordecai as she starts to introduce the pair, "this is my very good friend Mordecai, Mistress Livvi. He was working I think; I am sure if he knew I was in danger he would put everything aside to protect me just like he did a little while ago. If not for his bravery and battle prowess the kitty Nicci would have gobbled me all up like a little birdie!"
"Mordecai, this Mistress Livvi, the fey goddess that I told you about. Isn't she beautiful, just like I said?"
Livvi holds out her hand to Mordecai in the manner of the court ladies, fingers forward and down, the back of her hand up so that he could kiss her hand. "I am Livvi. What shall I call you, good ser? And what brings you to my apartments?"
Mordecai takes Livvi's hand and shakes it as if meeting a coworker. He responds, "The name's Mordecai. I owed this young spellweaver a debt and I paid it by accompanying her here to you - apparently she's run afoul of some unsavory characters." His eyes widen in recognition, "I've seen you in the Ministry with a brass tube in hand... Internal communications? You're a town crier, right?"
Then, turning to Lilita, he says with a chuckle, "See that? Your 'fey goddess' does work for the government."
Lilita watches the exchange between the two with interest.
Turning her attention back to Lilita, the bard says, "I went by your shop this morning to check in on you and met Master Pencelot. A nice old man, very concerned about you. We went to your wagon to check on you, but were only greeted by your plant, Tulip. An interesting creature, that...but that is a topic for another time. Did you get home alright last night? Did the Blackheart knight treat you well? I apologize for running out on you like that, but I had someone I had to meet..."
Lilita smiles, "you mean Captain Kelban Bessari, the third son to Count Bessari? He was most stern and cross with me, I fear. He wishes for me to report to the stocks in traitor’s square where I will be made to pay for my crimes, and I will be sure to do so when it is a bit more convenient for me to do so. I left him napping while I went to visit the Black Rose to look for my Noble Monster, Lord Rakia Rezgui from the Karzulun there but he was not in so I instead spoke to Mistress Diamonique and Mistress Nicci who kindly provided me with this lovely new dress that Mordecai got ash all over," she cries genuinely distressed about the current state of her dress.
Mordecai interjects, "First off, why are you SEEKING OUT this "noble monster," a vampire, that at best wants you as his undead concubine and at worst his next meal? Secondly, Mistress Nicci tried to kill you earlier - maybe they're tracking you through the dress? And finally, yes, I did tell you to put some ash on yourself to hide your scent from the WERETIGER, I didn't expect you to bathe in it - sorry for not being more specific with my suggestion."
Mordecai, looking frustrated, turns his eyes to the ground and sighs.
Lilita then regains her composure and continues her rather long and twisting tale, "Sadly Master Maigrinstaff who I suspect to be the same sort of being as my Noble Monster was also absent not to be found at the Black Rose. I was informed that he was at his estate in the mountains attending to some sort of business. Anyway, my Noble Monster – “
Mordecai coughs.
“– used to be permitted to visit the Black Rose but evidently, he and Master Maigrinstaff had a bit of a falling out and he is no longer welcome there or the city for that matter having been exiled! So, it is my understanding that once Master Maigrinstaff learns of my Noble Monster's return to the city there will spot of trouble between them and perhaps their factions as well. I think they have factions, maybe, but I am a little unclear on that point or if they are factions or clans, but I would imagine it is something along those lines. But I could be mistaken as you can imagine that it was all a bit much to take in all at once! You know, my head was spinning a little and I was getting very sleepy. So, I a drew sigil on a wall of the Black Rose and made my way back home to my vardo wagon and feel asleep after such a trying day and night. Then Mordecai came to visit me, and I sought to bring him here to meet you when along the way we encountered Nicci from the Black Rose in the form of a tiger who seemly was rather upset and attacked us."
Mordecai goes slackjaw some.
Giving Livvi and innocent look Lilita shrugs, "For the life of me I don't know why she was so cross. I mean when I left her at the Black Rose, I had thought that we had hit it off very well and were akin to sisters. But Mordecai shooed her away, fortunately! So, no harm was done, so I forgive her."
Mordecai waves his hands in exasperation, saying, "Woah, woah, there is no way I'm buying that you think you two were akin to sisters. You goaded her in the alley by asking her how frustrated it felt for her not to be able to hunt you until she got permission?"
He quickly continues, "Livvi - have you any idea what's going on here? I'm pretty sure that Lilita is under-selling how dire her situation is."
Lilita looks around and coughs out a bit of ash and soot, "do you think that I could some water please? I am a bit parched."
Livvi's eyes grow wider, and then narrower, as Lilita tells her tale and Mordecai interjects his edits. When the Grey Lady asks for some water, Livvi sees the rest of the tavern staring in awe and wonder at the trio. She blinks and glances around. In the space of a few breaths she says, loudly, "Ah, my dear, that is EXACTLY the kind of story I am interested in writing into a new stage production. Look, you have everyone here enthralled by the mere outline sketches of the tale! Come, let's move to a more private room to discuss the script and costumes. Hamaron, a jug of water and a bottle of wine for us, please. We are not to be disturbed, or I will write you as the luckless fool who bumbles everything in the play!" She says in a pretend tone of mocking and command. Of course, she really means to keep everyone away... "Ladies and gentlemen, we hope that you will come out to see this production when we open in the spring!" She leads her two companions back to the private room where she and Lilita had waited for the Blackheart knight previously.
When they are in the room, with drinks poured and the door securely shut, Livvi bursts out, "By the goddesses' left tit, girl, how big of a mess have you gotten yourself into? Vampire clans at war, lycanthropes hunting you in the open streets, and your odd memory loss and obvious enchantment by this Lord Rakia Rezgui. And you mentioned a sigil that you drew at the Black Rose - what was it? What is its meaning? How can we take care of these problems so that we cannot die, or be turned into undead thralls, or cause everyone to burn the city to the ground?"
Lilita looks at Livvi and Mordecai, "I drew a picture of the sigil for Mordecai on a piece of parchment so he can show you what it looks like but to be honest it is all starting to take on a dream-like aspect and getting a bit fuzzy around the edges as time goes. It's an owl sigil but as to what exactly it means. Well, your guess is as good mine. I am sorry I cannot be more helpful, but I rushed here knowing how interested you were about all this and I just wanted to repay you for helping me before figuring that you would know what to do with the information."
Mordecai, somewhat disinterestedly, takes the drawing out for Livvi to review, then folds it back up and places it back in his pack.
Lilita takes a long drink of water and looks down at her feet, then looks shyly back turns to Mordecai... and Livvi, "yes Mordecai, I am seeking out my Noble Monster but I have my reasons and no doubt he is looking for me as well, at least I hope so. Thank you both for protecting me, I appreciate your efforts, but my fight isn't your fight. Those at the Black Rose do not know about Livvi so she has nothing to fear from them, nor do you, Mordecai, Nicci was only interested in me, not you. But the Noble Monster has taken a fancy to Livvi so that is another matter, but I will try to talk to him again and do what I can to convince him to leave her alone. Besides, he will have other, more pressing problems to worry about other than Livvi. In any event, I am content to deal with my own situation myself, no need to put yourselves at risk for me."
"Oh, for the love of...." Mordecai starts, "you need to stop calling this creature "noble monster" and just call him by his name - Rezgui, was it? Part of dealing with such troubling issues is accepting them for what they are. Infantilizing the way, you're doing will only give them more power over you. You've a tougher spirit than you know - you are not acting like the woman that heals the sick of her community without thought of your safety. Don't let these creatures erode your resolve." Mordecai, off his soapbox so to speak, carelessly takes a seat - like a person tired after a long day.
After listening to their additional details, Livvi says, "OK. I have a friend that needs to hear all of this. We usually meet at a little café in the Merchant's quarter called the Witches Brew. Look for the green-haired server - her name is Nephele and you once healed her wrist, Lilita - and ask for me. If I am not there I will be shortly. Because I am, in fact, currently working as a crier for the Lion."
Mordecai rouses a bit, having lost interest for a bit seemingly in favor of some self-reflection. He asks, "Nephele is the one you want us to meet or is she simply your host, keeping us company until you arrive? I can't imagine it's the server. Who are you introducing us to, Livvi?"
He looks up at the bard, "I've not survived this long by entering situations blind - although I admit today, I felt nearsighted."
Lilita frowns as she considers Livvi's request and replies, "I would rather not Mistress Livvi, but I guess, if you insist, alright then I will speak to your friend. The Witches Brew, you said in the Merchants quarter, I know it but never been inside so I will see you there then, later." Lilita turns and promptly walks out the door without another word.
"Not a wise one, is she? Creatures of the night are after her and off she storms into the early dusk of the evening," Mordecai comments to himself as much as to Livvi. He stands up, then continues speaking, saying, "We could just let her be and let the world have her. Although I suspect neither of us will do that - tonight at least."
He looks toward Livvi and suggests, "Perhaps you should offer her a room for tonight - I doubt she'll survive the trek back home. That Nicci character will be back... and with friends."
Mordecai heads out the door to catch up with Lilita. As he does, he calls back to Livvi, "So are you coming 'fey goddess' or are you worried that your divinity will be tested?”
Mordecai sighs, "gods be damned." Mordecai grabs Lilita and begins dragging her away from the fires, moving in the direction the pair was initially headed. He shouts out, "Fires in the alley! Nicci the weretiger started fires in the alley! Fires in the alley!"
Lilita is caught by surprise as Mordecai grabs her and starts to drag her off but does not resist as she looks up at him in confusion, "what are you doing Mordecai, the fires are dangerous, we should put them out before they spread and hurt someone," she stammers innocently looking at the flames.
He pushes Lilita in front of him, "You somehow unbelievably do not understand the concepts of danger and haste. Let me put it bluntly: creatures that we cannot kill are about to wake up and hunt us down. So, get a move on. We can't be outside at nightfall."
Lilita looks about, "really? Where? But you hurt Nicci and scared her off Mordecai, what is there to worry about, she was all alone." Lilita deciding it is best to go along with Mordecai's judgment of such matters picks up the pace and follows his lead periodically looking back to see if someone is, in fact, chasing them.
He picks up some ash and charcoal and tells Lilita as he's pushing her along, "Put some of this ash on you, it should help disguise your scent some."
Lilita starts to cough and sputter getting some ash in her mouth and up her nose... she begins to sneeze and tries to push him away but totally outclassed quickly gives up and whimpers, "Mordecai, what are you doing, this a new dress and a gift at that... you are getting it all dirty," she complains loudly! "When the fey goddess sees me like this... all dirty she will surely think I am an unwashed beggar, this is terrible."
Mordecai than gathers a handful of ash and applies it to various spots on his body.
Lilita watches as Mordecai rubs ash on himself even though she thinks it is all unnecessary she shakes her head but gives in and follows his lead... rubbing ash all over herself just to humor him, wanting to cry as she looks down at the state of her dress, "it's ruined, this will never come out!"
"Like I said," Mordecai replies, "this Nicci character will return and with others - I understand her type, they do not take kindly to losing and will stack the odds in their favor to ensure it doesn't happen again. AND, if I understood your little exchange with her correctly, she works for those vampires and Strigoi - so it'd be safe to assume that they'd be after you as soon as the sun is under the horizon, they'll be coming out for a piece of you, as well."
Lilita looks at the setting sun and back to Mordecai, "well yes, Nicci serves those at the Black Rose but as for my Noble Monster, not so much... the two sides are feuding or, so I have been led to believe."
"This is why I suggested we use some of the ash to hide our scent," Mordecai says as he applies dabs of ash on where his skin is bare and unclothed. He then looks up at Lilita who had utterly covered her body and dress in ash and merely says, "Errr... I'll have to be more explicit with my suggestions going forward... On the bright side, nothing will be able to find you via scent alone."
Lilita frowns still a bit miffed ruining her new dress, "perhaps those like Nicci cannot track me by scent but my Noble Monster, I think the ash is all but useless since he is capable of crawling inside mind when it amuses him to do so. I assume that is how he found me at the shop where I am employed."
"Now go ahead - lead us to this goddess of your - the rains will cleanse us along the way," Mordecai states flatly. Even as he spoke it there was the sound of distant thunder out on the bay and a hint of rain in the air.
Lilita nods, "Alright then, follow me," she says meekly as she turns and quickly starts walking in the direction of Livvi's.
Traversing the city, they reached the lower end of the Merchant Quarter and wider, better lit streets and as if wanting to help announce their presence the nightly mists were thinner her. Distant thunder was closer, so was the hint of rain. Occasionally there were low flashes of light suggesting lightning as well. Turning a corner, they found themselves across from the Whispering Mane Inn. Before they could cross over, they found their path blocked by many priests and monks passing by in procession three wide. Some beat on shallow drums, others were ringing handbells or hitting small metal hammers against various metal instruments. Every second formation passing by was singing. “…oh, beautiful city, ancient and true, line your streets in silver, praise the coming of the sun! Oh, beautiful city – “
Lilita looks up at Mordecai, "we're close, just over that way I think, the Whispering... something, I can't remember the rest of it, just on the other side of the procession. Do we wait until they clear the way, or do you have another way?" She asks before starting to join in singing with the crowds clapping her hands together.
"Whispering Mane Inn," Mordecai responds. "So, what should I expect in there?" he asks. He turns to see Lilita singing and clapping...
Lilita looks at Mordecai and stops singing to reply, "it's a regular inn, a very nice one at that, posh and upscale, at least in my opinion. No doubt mistress Livvi does very well for herself. As for what to expect your guess is as good mine. The fey goddess has shown a keen fascination in my noble monster so no doubt she will be interested to learn that he is not the only one and that there are also ferocious were-kitties like Nicci prowling the streets as well. I am more concerned with us being so dirty that the inn's matron will not let us through the door. But we need to talk to the fey goddess, she can help us. Is that what you mean by what to expect?"
Mordecai observes the procession for a moment....
The big half-orc stands there, eyeing the procession and obviously growing impatient with it’s impeding their progress.
Mordecai clears his throat and tells Lilita, "Look the procession is almost over. We can cross after that last priest dances by."
Lilita looks up at the much larger Mordecai and nods in agreement.
Mordecai holds Lilita by the arm and escorts her across the street. He suddenly exclaims, "Bloody hell - what was that?!?"
As Mordecai takes her arm Lilita presses herself closer to him feeling safe and protected. Then the moment he shouts in surprise those warm feelings quickly fade and are replaced with a sense of apprehension.
Mordecai looks around quickly, his head jerking from place to place, as if looking for something on the surrounding floors above.
Lilita quickly turns her head upward, trying to follow the direction of his gaze, attempting to see what his eyes seem to be searching for and sees.
Rustling his feathers, a large crow made a low qork sound as he perched on the sign above the inn’s main door. In the ruddy light of the lantern beside the door the red splotches on the bird’s wings were the color of blood.
Lilita looks up at the large crow feeling a sense of relief that it is not her Noble Monster but then recalls Mordecai talking about crows with red on their wings earlier making her wonder if this was what he is speaking of.
Mordecai spots the crow, he points it out to Lilita, "See that? I've been seeing that ruddy bird over the past few days and each time I have, something nearby is dead or on its way to being dead."
He shakes his head, "This is an ill omen."
Mordecai guides Lilita to the inn and opens the door for her.
The crow crabs sideways along the edge of the sign as they approach, its beady black eyes staring into her soul. Head cocking the crow issues several muttering qork’s and soft cackles as if talking to her. Briefly its wings spread slightly, giving her a clear view of the red markings on the inside of it’s wings. They sort of look like the top half of a gazing owl.
Guided by Mordecai... Lilita ducks through the open door of the inn half-frightened by the ominous crow thinking whatever it is, it has Mordecai on edge and the way it looked at her sent shivers down her spine but there was something almost familiar about the markings on its wings resembling the top half of a gazing owl. Could it somehow be connected to the owl sigil she had drawn at the Black Rose the memory of which has taken on an almost dream-like quality, still not sure why she even drew it in the first place?
Once safely inside Lilita will look at Mordecai, "so that is crow that you were talking about before? Maybe it likes you or is just hungry. Perhaps if you feed it something it will go away?"
Mordecai squints his eyes at Lilita, responding, "I'd rather not."
Noting that Lilita stopped to look at the crow, Mordecai goes ahead and enters the inn, patting off what ash he could as he enters. Above the crow cocks its head, one black eye gazing intently at her as she reaches the door. Lilita…
Lilita having paused at the door looks back at the crow as it stares at her, "don't worry little blackbird if we get something to eat inside, I will save a bite for you for when we come back out... that is if you are still around." Lilita smiles thinking that Mordecai will probably complain about her talking to strange birds too, but she couldn't help herself.
From inside she could hear the innkeeper introducing himself as Hamron Ilkestoon, then giving an exclamation at Mordecai’s appearance. The half-orc responds gruffly:
“Fire out in the district - we got caught up in the smoke."
Lilita following Mordecai inside smiles politely up at the innkeeper, "Hello, I am Lilita, a friend of Livvi's, is she at home? Could we see her please or could you please send word up to her that I am here waiting and need to speak to her? Thank you."
"She lives in an inn?" Mordecai asks. "Sure... Why not? Next you'll tell me I St that she works for the government and still manages to afford all this."
Lilita smiles up at Mordecai, "as far I know she lives here, that is what she said when she brought me here to answer the handsome knight's questions." Then she laughs at Mordecai's comment about Livvi working for the government or some such thing, "No, no, I imagine the fey goddess to be either be a courtesan or an exotic dancer, or both given her immodest attire last evening. It was extremely provocative and sensual so if she works for the government, why would she dress in such a manner? Just wait until you meet her, I am confident you will be taken by her beauty and kindness."
Just then Livvi walks down the stairs, holding her head up and stepping as if she were royalty.
"An exotic dancer, am I?" she says and chuckles, a sultry kind of laugh that she had learned meant many things to people. Always best to keep them guessing..."Exotic, to be sure. A dancer with the right partner. But I am not what you might think - despite my costume from last night. Of course, you were more exposed than I, missy-miss, and didn't seem in any hurry to cover yourself. So, who is the courtesan, I wonder?" Livvi finishes with a wink at Lilita. "And who is your massive friend? Where was he last night when you needed someone like him to watch out for you?"
Lilita gives Livvi a look of confusion, "I am not sure if I remember that part as you do m'lady, the events of that evening are a bit hazy for me I fear." Then turns to smile up at Mordecai as she starts to introduce the pair, "this is my very good friend Mordecai, Mistress Livvi. He was working I think, I am sure if he knew I was in danger he would put everything aside to protect me just like he did a little while ago. If not for his bravery and battle prowess the kitty Nicci would have gobbled me all up like a little birdie!"
"Mordecai, this Mistress Livvi, the fey goddess that I told you about. Isn't she beautiful, just like I said?"
Livvi holds out her hand, in the manner of the court ladies, fingers forward and down, the back of her hand up so that he could kiss her hand. "I am Livvi. What shall I call you, good ser? And what brings you to my apartments?"
Mordecai takes Livvi's hand and shakes it as if meeting a coworker. He responds, "The name's Mordecai. I owed this young spellweaver a debt and I paid it by accompanying her here to you - apparently she's run afoul of some unsavory characters." His eyes widen in recognition, "I've seen you in the Ministry with a brass tube in hand... Internal communications? You're a town crier, right?"
Then, turning to Lilita, he says with a chuckle, "See that? Your 'fey goddess' does work for the government."
Lilita watches the exchange between the two with interest, confident that the pair will get on famously...
Turning her attention back to Lilita, the bard says, "I went by your shop this morning to check in on you and met Master Pencelot. A nice old man, very concerned about you. We went to your wagon to check on you, but were only greeted by your plant, Tulip. An interesting creature, that...but that is a topic for another time. Did you get home alright last night? Did the Blackheart knight treat you well? I apologize for running out on you like that, but I had someone I had to meet..."
Lilita smiles, "you mean Captain Kelban Bessari, the third son to Count Bessari? He was most stern and cross with me, I fear. He wishes for me to report to the stocks in traitor’s square where I will be made to pay for my crimes, and I will be sure to do so when it is a bit more convenient for me to do so. I left him napping while I went to visit the Black Rose to look for my Noble Monster, Lord Rakia Rezgui from the Karzulun there but he was not in so I instead spoke to Mistress Diamonique and Mistress Nicci who kindly provided me with this lovely new dress that Mordecai got ash all over," she cries genuinely distressed about the current state of her dress.
Mordecai interjects, "First off, why are you SEEKING OUT this "noble monster," a vampire, that at best wants you as his undead concubine and at worst his next meal? Secondly, Mistress Nicci tried to kill you earlier - maybe they're tracking you through the dress? And finally, yes, I did tell you to put some ash on yourself to hide your scent from the WERETIGER, I didn't expect you to bathe in it - sorry for not being more specific with my suggestion."
Mordecai, looking frustrated, turns his eyes to the ground and sighs.
Lilita then regains her composure and continues her rather long and twisting tale, "Sadly Master Maigrinstaff who I suspect to be the same sort of being as my Noble Monster was also absent not to be found at the Black Rose. I was informed that he was at his estate in the mountains attending to some sort of business. Anyway, my Noble Monster – “
Mordecai coughs.
“– used to be permitted to visit the Black Rose but evidently, he and Master Maigrinstaff had a bit of a falling out and he is no longer welcome there or the city for that matter having been exiled! So, it is my understanding that once Master Maigrinstaff learns of my Noble Monster's return to the city there will spot of trouble between them and perhaps their factions as well. I think they have factions, maybe, but I am a little unclear on that point or if they are factions or clans, but I would imagine it is something along those lines. But I could be mistaken as you can imagine that it was all a bit much to take in all at once! You know, my head was spinning a little and I was getting very sleepy. So, I a drew sigil on a wall of the Black Rose and made my way back home to my vardo wagon and feel asleep after such a trying day and night. Then Mordecai came to visit me, and I sought to bring him here to meet you when along the way we encountered Nicci from the Black Rose in the form of a tiger who seemly was rather upset and attacked us."
Mordecai goes slackjaw some.
Giving Livvi and innocent look Lilita shrugs, "For the life of me I don't know why she was so cross. I mean when I left her at the Black Rose, I had thought that we had hit it off very well and were akin to sisters. But Mordecai shooed her away, fortunately! So, no harm was done, so I forgive her."
Mordecai waves his hands in exasperation, saying, "Woah, woah, there is no way I'm buying that you think you two were akin to sisters. You goaded her in the alley asking her how frustrated did it feel for her not to be able to hunt you until she got permission?"
He quickly continues, "Livvi - have you any idea what's going on here? I'm pretty sure that Lilita is under-selling how dire her situation is."
Lilita looks around and coughs out a bit of ash and soot, "do you think that I could some water please? I am a bit parched."
Livvi's eyes grow wider, and then narrower, as Lilita tells her tale and Mordecai interjects his edits. When the Grey Lady asks for some water, Livvi sees the rest of the tavern staring in awe and wonder at the trio. She blinks and glances around. In the space of a few breaths she says, loudly, "Ah, my dear, that is EXACTLY the kind of story I am interested in writing into a new stage production. Look, you have everyone here enthralled by the mere outline sketches of the tale! Come, let's move to a more private room to discuss the script and costumes. Hamaron, a jug of water and a bottle of wine for us, please. We are not to be disturbed, or I will write you as the luckless fool who bumbles everything in the play!" She says in a pretend tone of mocking and command. Of course, she really means to keep everyone away... "Ladies and gentlemen, we hope that you will come out to see this production when we open in the spring!" She leads her two companions back to the private room where she and Lilita had waited for the Blackheart knight previously.
When they are in the room, with drinks poured and the door securely shut, Livvi bursts out, "By the goddesses' left tit, girl, how big of a mess have you gotten yourself into? Vampire clans at war, lycanthropes hunting you in the open streets, and your odd memory loss and obvious enchantment by this Lord Rakia Rezgui. And you mentioned a sigil that you drew at the Black Rose - what was it? What is its meaning? How can we take care of these problems so that we cannot die, or be turned into undead thralls, or cause everyone to burn the city to the ground?"
Lilita looks at Livvi and Mordecai, "I drew a picture of the sigil for Mordecai on a piece of parchment so he can show you what it looks like but to be honest it is all starting to take on a dream-like aspect and getting a bit fuzzy around the edges as time goes. It's an owl sigil but as to what exactly it means. Well, your guess is as good mine. I am sorry I cannot be more helpful, but I rushed here knowing how interested you were about all this and I just wanted to repay you for helping me before figuring that you would know what to do with the information."
Mordecai, somewhat disinterestedly, takes the drawing out for Livvi to review, then folds it back up and places it back in his pack.
Lilita takes a long drink of water and looks down at her feet, then looks shyly back turns to Mordecai... and Livvi, "yes Mordecai, I am seeking out my Noble Monster but I have my reasons and no doubt he is looking for me as well, at least I hope so. Thank you both for protecting me, I appreciate your efforts, but my fight isn't your fight. Those at the Black Rose do not know about Livvi so she has nothing to fear from them, nor do you, Mordecai, Nicci was only interested in me, not you. But the Noble Monster has taken a fancy to Livvi so that is another matter, but I will try to talk to him again and do what I can to convince him to leave her alone. Besides, he will have other, more pressing problems to worry about other than Livvi. In any event, I am content to deal with my own situation myself, no need to put yourselves at risk for me."
"Oh, for the love of...." Mordecai starts, "you need to stop calling this creature "noble monster" and just call him by his name - Rezgui, was it? Part of dealing with such troubling issues is accepting them for what they are. Infantilizing the way, you're doing will only give them more power over you. You've a tougher spirit than you know - you are not acting like the woman that heals the sick of her community without thought of your safety. Don't let these creatures erode your resolve." Mordecai, off his soapbox so to speak, carelessly takes a seat - like a person tired after a long day.
After listening to their additional details, Livvi says, "OK. I have a friend that needs to hear all of this. We usually meet at a little café in the Merchant's quarter called the Witches Brew. Look for the green-haired server - her name is Nephele and you once healed her wrist, Lilita - and ask for me. If I am not there I will be shortly. Because I am, in fact, currently working as a crier for the Lion."
Mordecai rouses a bit, having lost interest for a bit seemingly in favor of some self-reflection. He asks, "Nephele is the one you want us to meet or is she simply your host, keeping us company until you arrive? I can't imagine it's the server. Who are you introducing us to, Livvi?"
He looks up at the bard, "I've not survived this long by entering situations blind - although I admit today, I felt nearsighted."
Lilita frowns as she considers Livvi's request and replies, "I would rather not Mistress Livvi, but I guess, if you insist, alright then I will speak to your friend. The Witches Brew, you said in the Merchants quarter, I know it but never been inside so I will see you there then, later." Lilita thinking the conversation complete... turns and promptly walks out the door without another word.
[GM Notes: A little bit of a time warp to bring both parties to the same time zone, so to speak]
When Lilita and her male escort hadn’t been waiting at the Whispering Mane, Livvi rushed back out to take care of her late afternoon crier duties, then rushed over to the Palace and checked in with Quig, including snatching up her pay for the day and rushing home. Supper came and went and still no Grey Lady. Dark fell. About to head over to see if Lilita had gone home she heard some voices at the bottom of the stairs.
“Welcome to the Whispering Mane, citizen, I’m Hamron Ilkestoon, proud proprietor – by all the gods, yer a mess!”
The visitor gruffly replies with: "Fire out in the district - we got caught up in the smoke."
"Hello, I am Lilita, a friend of Livvi's, is she at home? Could we see her please or could you please send word up to her that I am here waiting and need to speak to her? Thank you."
"She lives in an inn. Sure... Why not? Next you'll tell me I St that she works for the government and still manages to afford all this."
The grey lady’s voice says, "as far I know she lives here, that is what she said when she brought me here to answer the handsome knight's questions." Then she laughs at Mordecai's comment about Livvi working for the government or some such thing, "No, no, I imagine the fey goddess to be either be a courtesan or an exotic dancer, or both given her immodest attire last evening. It was extremely provocative and sensual so if she works for the government, why would she dress in such a manner? Just wait until you meet her, I am confident you will be taken by her beauty and kindness."
Livvi suppresses a laugh - barely - as she overhears the conversation at the bottom of the stairs. She was relieved that the male voice did not sound like the noble-monster - a blessing to be sure! She walks down the stairs, holding her head up and stepping as if she were royalty. She had to make a good impression on whoever was with Lilita!
"An exotic dancer, am I?" she says and chuckles, a sultry kind of laugh that she had learned meant many things to people. Always best to keep them guessing..."Exotic, to be sure. A dancer with the right partner. But I am not what you might think - despite my costume from last night. Of course, you were more exposed than I, missy-miss, and didn't seem in any hurry to cover yourself. So, who is the courtesan, I wonder?" Livvi finishes with a wink at Lilita. "And who is your massive friend? Where was he last night when you needed someone like him to watch out for you?"
Lilita gives Livvi a look of confusion, "I am not sure if I remember that part as you do m'lady, the events of that evening are a bit hazy for me I fear." Then turns to smile up at Mordecai as she starts to introduce the pair, "this is my very good friend Mordecai, Mistress Livvi. He was working I think; I am sure if he knew I was in danger he would put everything aside to protect me just like he did a little while ago. If not for his bravery and battle prowess the kitty Nicci would have gobbled me all up like a little birdie!"
"Mordecai, this Mistress Livvi, the fey goddess that I told you about. Isn't she beautiful, just like I said?"
Livvi holds out her hand, in the manner of the court ladies, fingers forward and down, the back of her hand up so that he could kiss her hand. "I am Livvi. What shall I call you, good ser? And what brings you to my apartments?"
Mordecai takes Livvi's hand and shakes it as if meeting a coworker. He responds, "The name's Mordecai. I owed this young spellweaver a debt and I paid it by accompanying her here to you - apparently she's run afoul of some unsavory characters." His eyes widen in recognition, "I've seen you in the Ministry with a brass tube in hand... Internal communications? You're a town crier, right?"
Then, turning to Lilita, he says with a chuckle, "See that? Your 'fey goddess' does work for the government."
Lilita watches the exchange between the two with interest.
Turning her attention back to Lilita, the bard says, "I went by your shop this morning to check in on you and met Master Pencelot. A nice old man, very concerned about you. We went to your wagon to check on you, but were only greeted by your plant, Tulip. An interesting creature, that...but that is a topic for another time. Did you get home alright last night? Did the Blackheart knight treat you well? I apologize for running out on you like that, but I had someone I had to meet..."
Lilita smiles, "you mean Captain Kelban Bessari, the third son to Count Bessari? He was most stern and cross with me, I fear. He wishes for me to report to the stocks in traitor’s square where I will be made to pay for my crimes, and I will be sure to do so when it is a bit more convenient for me to do so. I left him napping while I went to visit the Black Rose to look for my Noble Monster, Lord Rakia Rezgui from the Karzulun there but he was not in so I instead spoke to Mistress Diamonique and Mistress Nicci who kindly provided me with this lovely new dress that Mordecai got ash all over," she cries genuinely distressed about the current state of her dress.
Mordecai interjects, "First off, why are you SEEKING OUT this "noble monster," a vampire, that at best wants you as his undead concubine and at worst his next meal? Secondly, Mistress Nicci tried to kill you earlier - maybe they're tracking you through the dress? And finally, yes, I did tell you to put some ash on yourself to hide your scent from the WERETIGER, I didn't expect you to bathe in it - sorry for not being more specific with my suggestion."
Mordecai, looking frustrated, turns his eyes to the ground and sighs.
Lilita appears to regain her composure and continues her rather long and twisting tale, "Sadly Master Maigrinstaff who I suspect to be the same sort of being as my Noble Monster was also absent not to be found at the Black Rose. I was informed that he was at his estate in the mountains attending to some sort of business. Anyway, my Noble Monster – “
Mordecai coughs.
“– used to be permitted to visit the Black Rose but evidently, he and Master Maigrinstaff had a bit of a falling out and he is no longer welcome there or the city for that matter having been exiled! So, it is my understanding that once Master Maigrinstaff learns of my Noble Monster's return to the city there will be a spot of trouble between them and perhaps their factions as well. I think they have factions, maybe, but I am a little unclear on that point or if they are factions or clans, but I would imagine it is something along those lines. But I could be mistaken as you can imagine that it was all a bit much to take in all at once! You know, my head was spinning a little and I was getting very sleepy. So, I a drew sigil on a wall of the Black Rose and made my way back home to my vardo wagon and feel asleep after such a trying day and night. Then Mordecai came to visit me, and I sought to bring him here to meet you when along the way we encountered Nicci from the Black Rose in the form of a tiger who seemly was rather upset and attacked us."
Mordecai goes slackjaw some.
Giving Livvi an innocent look Lilita shrugs, "For the life of me I don't know why she was so cross. I mean when I left her at the Black Rose, I had thought that we had hit it off very well and were akin to sisters. But Mordecai shooed her away, fortunately! So, no harm was done, so I forgive her."
Mordecai waves his hands in exasperation, saying, "Woah, woah, there is no way I'm buying that you think you two were akin to sisters. You goaded her in the alley asking her how frustrated did it feel for her not to be able to hunt you until she got permission?"
He quickly continues, "Livvi - have you any idea what's going on here? I'm pretty sure that Lilita is under-selling how dire her situation is."
Lilita looks around and coughs out a bit of ash and soot, "do you think that I could some water please? I am a bit parched."
Through all this Hamaron, half his family, and most of the guests and patrons sitting in the tap room of the Whispering Mane had fallen silent, infatuated by the drama and talk of Knights, Vampires, High Ladies, a mixture of awe and concern growing on their faces.
Livvi's eyes grow wider, and then narrower, as Lilita tells her tale and Mordecai interjects his edits. When the Grey Lady asks for some water, Livvi sees the rest of the tavern staring in awe and wonder at the trio. She blinks and realizes that she must get this under control somehow or risk starting a panic in the city that could result in riots and burned out quarters and the deaths of thousands. In the space of a few breaths she says, loudly, "Ah, my dear, that is EXACTLY the kind of story I am interested in writing into a new stage production. Look, you have everyone here enthralled by the mere outline sketches of the tale! Come, let's move to a more private room to discuss the script and costumes. Hamaron, a jug of water and a bottle of wine for us, please. We are not to be disturbed, or I will write you as the luckless fool who bumbles everything in the play!" She says in a pretend tone of mocking and command. Of course, she really means to keep everyone away... "Ladies and gentlemen, we hope that you will come out to see this production when we open in the spring!" She leads her two companions back to the private room where she and Lilita had waited for the Blackheart knight previously.
When they are in the room, with drinks poured and the door securely shut, Livvi bursts out, "By the goddesses' left tit, girl, how big of a mess have you gotten yourself into? Vampire clans at war, lycanthropes hunting you in the open streets, and your odd memory loss and obvious enchantment by this Lord Rakia Rezgui. And you mentioned a sigil that you drew at the Black Rose - what was it? What is its meaning? How can we take care of these problems so that we cannot die, or be turned into undead thralls, or cause everyone to burn the city to the ground?"
Lilita looks at Livvi and Mordecai, "I drew a picture of the sigil for Mordecai on a piece of parchment so he can show you what it looks like but to be honest it is all starting to take on a dream-like aspect and getting a bit fuzzy around the edges as time goes. It's an owl sigil but as to what exactly it means. Well, your guess is as good mine. I am sorry I cannot be more helpful, but I rushed here knowing how interested you were about all this and I just wanted to repay you for helping me before figuring that you would know what to do with the information."
Mordecai, somewhat disinterestedly, takes the drawing out for Livvi to review, then folds it back up and places it back in his pack.
Lilita takes a long drink of water and looks down at her feet, then looks shyly back turns to Mordecai... and Livvi, "yes Mordecai, I am seeking out my Noble Monster but I have my reasons and no doubt he is looking for me as well, at least I hope so. Thank you both for protecting me, I appreciate your efforts, but my fight isn't your fight. Those at the Black Rose do not know about Livvi so she has nothing to fear from them, nor do you, Mordecai, Nicci was only interested in me, not you. But the Noble Monster has taken a fancy to Livvi so that is another matter, but I will try to talk to him again and do what I can to convince him to leave her alone. Besides, he will have other, more pressing problems to worry about other than Livvi. In any event, I am content to deal with my own situation myself, no need to put yourselves at risk for me."
"Oh, for the love of...." Mordecai starts, "you need to stop calling this creature "noble monster" and just call him by his name - Rezgui, was it? Part of dealing with such troubling issues is accepting them for what they are. Infantilizing the way, you're doing will only give them more power over you. You've a tougher spirit than you know - you are not acting like the woman that heals the sick of her community without thought of your safety. Don't let these creatures erode your resolve." Mordecai, off his soapbox so to speak, carelessly takes a seat - like a person tired after a long day.
After listening to their additional details, Livvi says, "OK. I have a friend that needs to hear all of this. We usually meet at a little café in the Merchant's quarter called the Witches Brew. Look for the green-haired server - her name is Nephele and you once healed her wrist, Lilita - and ask for me. If I am not there I will be shortly. Because I am, in fact, currently working as a crier for the Lion."
Mordecai rouses a bit, having lost interest for a bit seemingly in favor of some self-reflection. He asks, "Nephele is the one you want us to meet or is she simply your host, keeping us company until you arrive? I can't imagine it's the server. Who are you introducing us to, Livvi?"
He looks up at the bard, "I've not survived this long by entering situations blind - although I admit today, I felt nearsighted."
Lilita frowns as she considers Livvi's request and replies, "I would rather not Mistress Livvi, but I guess, if you insist, alright then I will speak to your friend. The Witches Brew, you said in the Merchants quarter, I know it but never been inside so I will see you there then, later." Lilita turns and promptly walks out the door without another word.
"Not a wise one, is she? Creatures of the night are after her and off she storms into the early dusk of the evening," Mordecai comments to himself as much as to Livvi. He stands up, then continues speaking, saying, "We could just let her be and let the world have her. Although I suspect neither of us will do that - tonight at least."
He looks toward Livvi and suggests, "Perhaps you should offer her a room for tonight - I doubt she'll survive the trek back home. That Nicci character will be back... and with friends."
Mordecai heads out the door to catch up with Lilita. As he does, he calls back to Livvi, "So are you coming 'fey goddess' or are you worried that your divinity will be tested?”
Arcana/History/Religion: 17 Livvi studies the owl sigil closely, trying to determine if she had seen it before or knew anything about it. Things like this usually had some meaning associated with it, and the bard was very interested in finding out what this one represented. She’d recalled seeing several similar sigils and symbols during her studies but nothing exactly like the one Mordecai has shown. The cities history was deep as it was broad with so much lost, found, forgotten, remembered but remembered wrong, it was hard to know. Something about it though itched at the back of Livvi’s head. Like a faded memory lurking just out of sight.
As he suspected, Holden found the quartermaster railing at a group of laborers who where loitering around several delivery wagons. Mostly, Kam was growling at how they were only s supposed to deliver the goods, not take the opportunity to case the nob’s grounds. Just get in, make the delivery of firewood, lumber, sawdust, and whatever else that had been ordered.
“…dolts! Tha Loridarie’s chamberlain was watching from a second-floor window when Delf an’ Vandarian here decided ta snoop around the townhouses’ larder.”
“Told ya Kam, I was only lookin’ for a drink of water. This ‘er’s hard work,” Delf complained as he slapped a half-loaded wagon. “Too much like honest work, too.”
As Kam and Delf went on arguing, grumbling and growling at each other’s, Jacob tentatively approached Zam and exchanged with him what he thought would pass as a knowing glance. "Ah, Quartermaster." Holden crossed his dark leather clad arms before his chest, shoulders kind of close to his neighbor "While these two dolts figure out who's done what ****up, I need an upgrade. Deposit's just been made with the upstairs lady, and I'm good for about a hundred coins, plus future incoming..."
Kam grunted and nodded. “Understood. What’d you have in mind, Holden?”
Jacob opened his gloved palm and started counting the stuff on his fingers "I need a left handed knuckle duster to pair up with my blackjack, a lightweight window-hook for my rope, and something more resistant than the leather I'm currently wearing, but it can't impede my sneaking." Holden paused, then added with a grimace "-Kinda nervous from all these floobs and kooks out and about lately."
A raised eyebrow was the quartermaster’s response. After a moment the man gestured, ‘follow’ and headed towards one of the doors leading into the lower levels.
As they walked Kam asked, “Cities full of kooks, but I get the impression you’ve had a run in with some of the kookier.”
Holden answered in a slightly clipped manner "You bet. The extra kooky kind." This could go two ways, Jacob reasoned; he was about to get some hand me downs of an arrested pad-foot, or maybe the Quartermaster wanted some peace & quiet away from the courtyard buzz and would give him something proper straight out of the complexes' more secluded vaults.
They came to an iron bound door with a large lock. The quartermaster pulled out a key and let them into the guild houses’ main armory. Once a series of storerooms used to store turpentine and other wood-based byproducts, the armory was just that. A large depository of all things lethal and defensive. Kam led Jacob past Danken, a retired fighter and guild enforcer turned armorer. Danken glance up briefly from a set of throwing knives he was sharpening and nodded.
Holden nodded back respectfully. Danken and his armory were a time-honored guild institution in and of themselves.
“I’ve got a nice selection of knuckle wear,” Kam was saying as he came to a series of dark wood storage bins. Pausing in thought, a frown on his face, Kam looked at Jacob. “I’ve heard some…rumors, myself. There was an attack on a tavern wench I know last night. She was blathering about vampires, too, before they took her off to the Black Rose for healing. Perhaps it’s just kooks, like you say. The big festival brings ‘em out every year, or so I’ve noticed…still.”
Reaching into the back of one of the bins the quartermaster pulled out a red cloth and unwrapped it to reveal a pair of tarnished silver knuckle busters shaped like owls. Tiny emeralds were embedded in the owl’s eyes, gleaming in the light of the armory.
Holden, with the instinct of a thieving magpie, couldn't possibly resist a lean in and hover "If Quartermaster wouldn't be offering these for rent, I would have to steal them, this is some dapper looking hardware!"
“There’s a bit more to ‘em,” Kam said and slid one on. Moving over to where some stuffed target dummies were stored the quartermaster hit one with a quick jab, sending a short burst of white lightning arcing into the dummy. “I know your keen on avoiding doing lethal damage if you can. These fire off some sort of stunning magic a couple times a day.”
Jacob slipped one on himself, testing the grip and deftly hitting the air a couple of times "Killing's bad for business. Except for when killing IS the business. Luckily it isn't and hasn't been for a long time at the Garnet Hands, and I would do my best to honor that tradition." Holden glanced thoughtfully at Danken, the man came from a very different time, those violent times where people like his own father, and with him the Night Stalkers of Tarantis, came into power. "I guess I'll have to kill somebody just to afford interest on these, will I?" Jacob half seriously jokes.
Kam waved off the mention of cost. “We know your good for it. ‘sides, sooner or later you’ll find other weaponry worth donating to the guild, I don’t doubt. Besides, blood sucking kook’s warrant something extra.”[knuckle dusters (+1); Magical; Silver; Shocking Grasp x3/day]
Holden kept one of the magnificent pair, and disappeared it into a pocket of his, very near where he stored the wooden vial and its deadly contents. He left his hand cupped over that particular pocket, as if wary of what it contained. "And what about something to protect this latest guild investment?"
“I’ve given that some thought, too.” The man said as he led Jacob into an adjacent room. Armor of all sizes and sorts lined the walls and hung from numerous posts. Moving towards the back, Kam found what he was looking for. Hanging on a hook is a knee length leather coat made of hand tooled hide of some sort. Taking it down Kam points to an attached hood with a built in half mask.
“Used to belong to a fellow guild member. It’s reversible.” As he spoke Kam flipped one sleeve inside out, showing a grease and dirt stained, worn looking gray. “Has a double advantage of blending into the fog and mists. Has a half dozen hidden pockets and” – he jabs a finger into the softer grey side where it stopped suddenly – “Elfin links, very small and fine fit. Looks to be your size, too.” He holds it out. [Non magical, master work (AC 13) +1 Stealth]
Holden drew in a quick breath and flexed his abdominal muscles, holding up the piece of tight kit right in front of him "And how lucky that is, too. I'll have to give up breakfast sausages only to keep fitting." Jacob was not a small man by any means, in another life he could've very well been in Danken's shoes. Not a word was wasted on the former owner of this fine piece of equipment, and some stains that might have been from a bloody origin. Such were the ways. "I'd be best on my way now; I've dilly-dallied enough as it is with you taffing lot." Muffled laughs were heard in the armories' dank darkness, then a door of light opened to the world waiting back outside.
Time passed, not so much that she lost complete tract of it but enough so that it might have been a few minutes or an hour as she sat, kneeling before the painting. Now and then it seemed to fade as the light waxed, only to brighten again. Between tears Lilita notices a small, silver plaque fixed to the bottom part of the picture frame.
Anilia…
Lilita, drying her tears stares up at the silver plaque reading the name aloud then casts a Prestidigitation spell on it and the entire painting itself to magically clean away years of accumulated dust that could be concealing more letters in the name, or possibly a family name, or a date.
Taking a small step back Lilita patiently looks on as the spell does its work as she also casts a Light spell on the Healer's Guild Signet Ring, she wears to provide needed illumination as she moves about. When the Prestidigitation spell has cleaned away all the dust, Lilita closely re-examines the plaque and the painting itself to see if anything new has been revealed as well as check to see if the artist who painted it left a signature.
It took awhile but she found a scribbled signature, very finely drawn in light green: Casmial Orseran.
The more Lilita stares at the painting the more a host of thoughts and possibilities race through her fevered mind making her even more determined to do whatever it takes to solve this mystery. Lilita's heart pounds with excitement convinced that there is a connection between herself and Anilia... believing that she bears a resemblance to the woman which piques her curiosity and spurs her hopes that Anilia might be her mother or a close relative, her imagination running wild as she struggles to contain her growing excitement. Planning in her mind to search the whole house... from top to bottom even if it takes her all night!
Looking around, Lilita is very surprised that the front doors had been left unlocked and amazed that the house has not been vandalized or its contents removed (stolen). Everything seems to have been left exactly in place, and with the exception of the cobwebs and dust, the house seems frozen in time. This leads her to suspect there could be a caretaker, a guard dog or something else that keeps away thieves and trespassers so she will be careful and watchful for someone or something that could appear while she investigates the house and its contents. As she moves about another thought crosses her mind, the house itself could be cursed or haunted and that is what could be keeping unwanted visitors away!
The last idea sends a chill down Lilita's spine, she does not wish to desecrate this place or to offend any spirits but it’s too important for her to know if there is indeed a connection between herself, the house and its previous occupants.
Her meeting at the Witches Brew forgotten for the moment her eyes drifted around the poorly lit parlor. Furnishings and bric-a-brac were everywhere, sure indications that the residence’s sanctity had not been violated by the determined or the desperate, as often happens to uninhabited buildings within the city. Still, cobwebs are everywhere, as is layers of dust decades deep. Nearby is a small glass lamp with a handle. A quick check shows that it is partially filled with oil. Beside the lamp a small, silver open toped container holds half a dozen sure-fire matches. Expensive little sticks of an exotic wood coated with an alchemy powder that turns to flame when struck against an abrasive surface.
As Lilita searches the parlor for clues she will examine the bric-a-brac closely picking each one up, inspecting and turning each over to look for any names or messages possibly engraved which might provide a clue of some kind.
The owl in disguise that had led her here qorked and muttered reassuringly before sailing over to land on her shoulder once more. The other two seemed content to remain perched outside, atop the open doors.
Seeing the owl-crow join her inside Lilita smiles when it once more comes to rest on her shoulder, providing her some measure of comfort and a sense that she is not entirely alone. She talks to it, "is this place home to my kin, my family? Is that why you brought me here? I cannot leave here until I have searched all of it... for clues. I need to know who used to live here, who owns it now, why it is empty... whatever that could help me understand all this... even if takes all night and day, and next day if necessary," she cries her voice wavering, filled with strong emotion, excitement and confusion.
Finally noting that she left the front door open Lilita walks up to it and looks at the two crows perched on the doors, "if you please, inside or outside as you prefer. I need to close the door and lock or bar it if possible so I don't get surprised by someone that might see my light or something."
“Door!” croaks one; “Door?” croaks the second; the one on her shoulder croaks, “Out!”
The other two mutter than hop off the doors and disappear into the garden, their actions causing the doors to swing shut effortlessly.
The owl-crow occasionally muttered or shifted on her shoulder as she drifted from room to room, lingering here, hurrying there, almost a ghost in her wanderings. A grey lady indeed. Most of the rooms were of the sort she had always envisioned a modestly wealthy family would own. Most were typical of a townhouse. Passing into a room that held a large dining table but could, if cleared, serve as a respectable room for hosting parties. At one end a massive fireplace of imported stone covers one wall. Above the mantel hangs the remains of a large portrait. Something had torn the canvas so badly on a few tatters remained, hanging from the cracked and scarred frame.
Lilita walks slowly up to examine the tattered remains of the portrait talking to the owl-crow perched on her shoulder, "everything so far in the house seems untouched, undamaged, so why this one thing? Why this painting and not another? What happened here that caused the occupants to abandon such a beautiful and cozy home." She climbs up on a chair to reach the painting examining the cracked and scarred frame closely also looking for a plaque with a name like the other painting had.
All the while wondering how it had been damaged, had someone taken a blade to it? The damage seems to Lilita to have been caused by someone angered or enraged at the subject of the painting trying to erase him or her from the history of the house, to remain forever unknown and unseen??? How very sad and tragic, she thinks...
If there had been a plaque it had been ripped away. She found a discoloration and small holes suggesting that there had been one. One of the top pieces was partially blue, the same color of a familiar turban though there wasn’t enough remaining to make it certain.
Carefully, treating the painting very gently Lilita attempts to take it down placing it on an open area of the floor where she tries to arrange the tattered bits and pieces like puzzle pieces to determine if possible, who the subject of the painting may have been. Checking about in and around the fireplace Lilita searches for any missing or discarded pieces as well as a plaque that may have been torn off and discarded. When complete, she climbs back up on the chair and looks down at her work spread out on the floor to ponder it further.
There hadn’t been many, and she had found evidence in the fireplace to suggest that the largest portion of the missing canvas had been burned, probably during the same incident that had defaced the portrait. There just wasn’t enough remaining to be certain.
Lilita looks down sad and more than a little disappointed but then she had expected that there were just not enough pieces left to provide answers but still, she had to try her best.
Continuing her search Lilita became acutely aware of places, here and there, that were missing something. Items that had been removed and never replaced. One spot in the main hallway at the top of the stairs showed a large, faded spot in the painted wall. About to walk past something glittering in the dark catches her eyes. A shard of glass about the size of her smallest finger. A soulless eye appeared in the shard, staring back at her.
Lilita, unafraid, reaches out and runs her hand slowly over the faded spot on the wall feeling its surface looking at this closely wondering if a mirror or another painting hung there. Then she carefully reaches down, and gently picks up the shard of glass and examines it closely wondering what it was, a shard of a mirror or something else???
“Mirror, mirror!” muttered the crow, his reflection appearing in the mirrored shard again.
Lilita gives the crow a sad smile and repeats the crow's words, "mirror, mirror," as she holds the shard tightly, she continues to speaks to the crow, "something very tragic occurred here, I feel so sorry for everyone involved." Keeping the shard, still holding it in her hand Lilita continues to explore and investigate the house looking for a desk in an alcove or even a small room that could a study or even a library that may contain documents or papers relating to the occupants or owners of the house.
At the top of the staircase a hallway ran in both directions than angled towards the back of the house. The first door she came too was closed. As she glanced at it she felt the crow-owl-bird grip her shoulder tighter as if in anticipation.
Lilita sensing the bird's anticipation she starts to feel a bit apprehensive, even a little nervous as she slowly reaches out and opens the door to see for herself what lies inside the room.
Beyond the door lie a nursery. Even in the poor lighting the walls are colorful, splashed with pink and red flowers and scenes of whimsical fancy. Cobwebs hang from a pink crib in the corner, next to a padded rocking chair. Several small chests of drawers lined another wall, along with a small table. Toys lay about, as if only abandoned yesterday. There was a lingering love in the room, something that defied explanation.
Lilita looks about in awe and wonder before at last speaking to crow, "is this my home then, my nursery? I don't remember anything, so how can I know for sure this isn't the home of some other lost child." After searching through the room and its contents Lilita beings to grow tired and confused but still so very hopeful sensing the lingering love in the room that makes her feel as if she has somehow found her way home Lilita walks over and sits down in the padded rocking chair to take a short nap to rest hoping that when she awakens that things might more clear to her and she can continue searching the rest of the house.
Arphaxad shakes the thick stuffing free of his senses. When the guild masters sent him forward to learn and explore, he knew it would be something…different that what he was used too. An ancient gate had been found and the means of activating its arcane power divined. Several volunteers had been pushed forward, given orders to step through, try to determine the where and when of the gate, then return.
He had happily volunteered for the dangerous mission. Sampling the changes of his modifications had been interesting, but now he had grown slightly jaded. His work was... stagnant. So many things had already been discovered. All that remained was to discuss the implications. Such conversations bored him.
The far side of the gate had opened into a large, well made chamber of marble covered walls. Beneath his feet are a series of arcane runes and some sort of casting boundary. Beyond a ring of glowing blue light set into the floor around him the chamber has several smaller chambers and a hint of a set of stairs leading up just around the corner of the side chamber on the left. Each corner where the side chambers meet the main, torches burn, held in bronze looking human arms and hands.
The appearance of the chamber was... alien. The runes were vaguely familiar, but as through a warped viewing glass, the meaning lost or unlike what he could have guessed. He clutched his staff in his hand and peered about.
So many things to question. Why were torches lit, waiting? Was this chamber in regular use? Had he ended up in some strange experimenter’s laboratory? And what lay beyond the stairs?
And obviously this realm had some sort of humanoid being. The arms were unlikely to have developed on a non-humanoid body. Only so much could be learned by watching the flames. Without more equipment, he could do nothing. So, he set off toward the stairs to get out, his keen eyes piercing the darkness better than when he had been merely human.
The first test was passing over the glowing circle surrounding the summoning floor. For many this was a barrier or a prison, embedded and empowered to prevent one from gaining unfettered access to the world beyond. Often such barriers were the only means to keep Demons, devil’s and creatures of chaos from killing the summoner and reeking further havoc. In his case, the potency or purpose of the barrier was in doubt since he entered the circle via an existing gate.
At the touch of his staff there was a slight flare as the blue increased, then settled down again. It did nothing to impede his process, however. The barrier magic could serve other purposes though.
Fortunately, the Hybrid was prepared. He dug in his pouches for components and muttered the arcane words to help him identify the basic nature of the spell.
A brief gathering of power occurred in the side chamber on his left where a dimensional door was opening.
With a gate opening, he had no way of knowing what was going to come through. All he could accomplish in the time he had was to grip his staff in a defensive manner and wait to see who or what came through.
Outsteps a tall, slender human wearing deep blue robes and carrying a obsidian staff. A man of middle age (though that was hard to be sure of since Arphaxad knew nothing of this world) with a bald head and neatly trimmed goatee. The man’s smile was more curious than amused. He made a short gesture in front of himself and Arphaxad assumed it was to enact some protective magics.
“Greetings traveler, welcome to my humble abode,” says the man, a wizard by the looks and feel of him, “it is uncommon for anything to enter the Fascrade Intihil unbidden.”
“Fascrade Intihil? That sounds like an unfamiliar place. Is it somewhere on Ravnica, by any chance?”
A look of surprise briefly crosses the mans face. “Ravnica…I have visited, once. A world like this one many, many countless miles across the cosmos of the prime material. A traveler perhaps?”
“I am a researcher seeking information on an artifact that was recently discovered. It led us to the gateway that, apparently, leads here. My intent is not hostile, nor has its nefarious purpose. I seek only knowledge.”
Stepping closer the wizard nods, fingers lightly gripping his own staff. “So, it may be, or then, it might be something else. Truth is such a grey thing, it is, so how to test it? This” – he slowly gestures in such a way to show that he’s not casting at the summoning platform and circle Arphaxad stands upon – “is the Fascrade Intihil, a truly ancient, almost holy, place.” He shrugs, “I am loathe to refer to it as a magical device, since it is far more. Suffice to say, it is ancient, very ancient, from the last age, I believe. Well, the last age of this world, anyway. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Arch sage Khatri and this is, well, you already know. Truth, as I said, is a tricky thing but not to the Fascrade Inthihil. Simply cross the barrier and the truth will be known.”
An ancient truth-telling barrier? How could something so ancient be still in use? And how was it that the two obviously different worlds could have such identical tongues? So many things to learn. Apparently, if what this... Archsage... said was true, he had been a traveler to many worlds. And so long as he, himself could breach this barrier, the answers might be his.
Eager fingers danced delightedly on his nearly forgotten staff. Arphaxad couldn’t restrain his huge (for himself) grin. He stepped forward, confident that he was ready for this adventure.
As he stepped over the runes etched deeply into the floor of the Fascrade Inthihil he knew he was passing through a complex series of magical wards. Many were completely alien to him, so were their purposes but others, his mind analyzed, were like those used by some clerical faiths to determine alignment, elements, and perhaps, metaphysical energy. Had he been of pure evil, perhaps from the Demon or Devil essence, or something similar in vein his passage would have been, at the least, prevented. At the worse, the magical wards might have caused lasting harm in repelling his attempt.
While the action was almost immediate there was a lingering effect that considerable time had passed. Or, perhaps, time itself had adjusted around and through him. It wasn’t unheard of, that some planes of the multiverse existed out of sync with others.
Though it was only a few steps down to the chamber floor the passage had made it feel like Arphaxad had come to the end of a great journey…or, the first steps of an even greater one. Khatri stood there, a knowing look on his face, neither smiling nor frowning.
“I still recall my first passage through the Fascrade Inthihil,” he said. “Of course, the ancient magics embedded in the artifact cannot determine what is in a thinking floobs soul, nor separate evil intent from good, not in the darkest reaches of our minds. There are so many mysteries embedded within that one lifetime is not enough to truly delve into them. So, welcome traveler. I cannot say rather or not the return passage to your place and time in the multiverse is back through this place, as one of the properties of the Fascrade Inthihil is to draw to it astral, shadow, and primal translocation magics incoming targeting this world so that the travelers they contain can be vetted. Most leave through other means, but not all. I myself have travelled to many planes of existence, to many worlds within the prime material and to times that were, that are, and that maybe.”
“I appreciate the candor and enlightenment,” the Hybrid murmured sincerely. “Some find delight in withholding knowledge, but I feel differently. At least, so long as the knowledge is not harmful.” He pauses, then continues ahead. “I assume you don’t generally linger in this place without cause... Have you plans that involve me?”
Khatri gestures with a hand towards the chamber on the left where a series of plush chairs could be seen. “A few libations, a few exchanges of words and then I will show you to the world above, if that is your wish, or you may try to return through the Fascrade Inthihil to your home.”
Not unfamiliar with the concept of pleasantries or societal niceties, Arphaxad spreads his lips in a smile. “I wouldn’t be opposed to a light repast. As I am sure you know, that little journey seems to leave a traveler feeling depleted.” As far as leaving, I have only just arrived. I’m sure I would appreciate your guidance to the surface.” Barely restrained excitement raced through his veins. A whole world to see. His tread was light.
As Arphaxad moves further away from the steps he becomes aware of a half dozen metal statues standing just out of view of the artifact. Golems, he muses, or something similar. Khatri answers the unspoken: “The whole Chamber of the Cosmos is designed to defend against anything entering the Fascrade Inthihil. The transcripts are full of warnings and case examples of such intrusions and while it is impossible to predict every possibility it is my order’s purpose to try.”
Information nudged about within the pale blue skull. Pieces of the puzzle fit neatly together, a satisfying feeling washing through him. This sage was a protector, some form of battle mage, and an entire organization of them existed. Certainly, if such was present there was cause. What sort of treasure did this world hold? Rare minerals? Vast plains of arable land? His bet was that this world held valuable and rare artifacts and relics. “Well, I am sure you and your order are up to the challenge, and I intended to avoid becoming a threat.”
The man gives a chuckle as he gestures to a chair before pausing to pick up a small hammer and lightly tap a crystal bell. If there was a sound, it was beyond Arphaxad’s range of hearing, that or it sounded in some other place.
“As to your question about my presence, I knew you were coming, well, that someone was coming anyway some time ago,” he says cryptically. Resting his staff against the side of a chair Khatri settles into the next one over. Just then a beautiful woman with vivid green hair strides in, carrying a silver platter with two glasses and matching crystal decanter as well as a number of bowls holding a mixture of finger foods.
“Ah, Mershri, thank you. Please, set it on the table,” he says, gesturing to the small circular table centered before the chairs. To Arphaxad he says, “This is Mershri, an apprentice within the order and a promising sage.”
Arphaxad nods politely to the woman. “A pleasure, I’m sure. Such a melodic name, Mershri. I am grateful for the repast you have so graciously provided.”
“You are most kind, Lord Traveler,” Mershri says, giving a slight curtsey before leaving. Khatri picks up the decanter and pours a clear liquid into each glass. “Since we didn’t know what to expect, species wise, it was thought that iced water the best. Distilled, I promise. I have had a few bouts of…ah, discomforts, from sampling beverages during jaunts myself.”
Less than graceful fingers pluck at the glass. His transformations had robbed him of many of his previous human characteristics, including genuine phalanges. As time continued to pass, the changes continued. Currently he seemed to have an extra flex in his hands and callouses had begun to blossom in regular paired discs along each ‘finger.’
“Water is fine,” he murmured. In truth, he rarely partook in spirits anymore. Since his transformation, alcohol affected him more than it used to. Being told that it had been distilled was a surprise. His home, the world city of Ravnica, enjoyed such amenities anywhere civilization wasn’t deliberately avoided. It hadn’t even occurred to him that it might not be readily available here.
“What lies above? I’m afraid I haven’t the experience in traveling that you enjoy.” Arphaxad tilted his head slightly. “Is it a city of some size, or are we in a rural area?”
“The city above is the great City State of Tarantis, third largest and oldest on our world. It is also a focal point of the cosmic highway it seems, and thus a study of the ages for various sage orders such as my own. There’s no complete list of gateways and portals within the city or the surrounding provinces that I am aware of, as many seem to come and go, or work only at certain times or under special circumstances. Other’s are linear, only one direction or linking to one place in time and plane. This has its advantages; I am sure you’ll understand. My family takes certain liberties, as do others, where such permanence and reliability are placed, by conducting trade in exotic goods, artifacts, knowledge, etc.”
The Hybrid nodded appreciatively as he fumbled for a cut vegetable stick. He hoped he’d redevelop his previous dexterity soon. “I certainly look forward to getting to experience this worlds unique culture.” The vegetable was used as an impromptu pointer as he spoke, before he turned it into his meal. Before taking another bite, he asked “I am not an experienced traveler, so could you enlighten me as to any laws or customs that I might not anticipate?”
“I would need to ask a few questions, I fear. Beginning with, what exactly are you? It is obvious that you are blended in some manner. Warforged perhaps? I am not a study of transmutations or similar magics but I know that they exist.”
This question came as somewhat of a surprise to Arphaxad. Yet another example of cultural differences. “I am a Hybrid, a voluntary participant in an experimental transformation. Our Guild, the Simic Combine, is dedicated to research. The idea is that by fusing the abilities of animals with humans, elves or Vedalken, we can be ideally suited to environmental extremes. My adaptations draw primarily from aquatic life, but it is difficult to know what will develop.” He selected a small triangular sandwich and was pleasantly surprised by the taste. “The science is still in early stages of use among intelligent beings, although creatures have been subjects for some time.”
Khatri looks thoughtful as he listens, then remains silent for a few moments as he appeared to be mulling over what Arphaxad had said.
He chewed slowly as he watched the Archsage process this. He was unfamiliar with the word Warforged, but it could have possibly described the Hybrids. Soldiers able to act easily in different environments were invaluable and difficult to find. Easier to create then for the purpose. Of course, while he was a researcher first, he knew something about battle magic.
“In my travel’s I have witnessed similar processes. Some are magically induced, others, with the aid of healing magics are physical alterations. There are some where organics are grafted onto a host, willing or not. This is quite close to how Warforged are created. We practice a variant of this on this world, typically on warriors who have suffered grievous wounds that taxes the healing magics of our priests. In some cases, such augmentation is sought out to gain abilities or strength, but it is less common. I have visited a few fantastical worlds where technology is the resident magic. Very strange places, those, yet full of marvels. I have a few tokens of such things in my display cases at home.”
“I am a member of the more proactive half of my Guild. We believe that there is a pressing need for improvement, in ourselves and in the natural world.” Arphaxad cocked his head. “I would be interested in witnessing some of the natural and naturally enhanced wonders of this world...”
“Please, if it’s not broaching some etiquette on your world, could you tell me if members of your guild would be averse to conducting trade. I and several of my associates are in league with a number of merchant houses that traverse the multiverse, conducting trade. While some artifacts and exotic goods may not transfer via the Fascrade Inthihil or other portals we know of, much will.”
The Hybrid hesitated, trying to find a way to express the thoughts of the Guild. “We are not a guild in the sense that a mercantile organization is. We are a Guild, part of the governing body of our world city. We do not act for gain but the survival of the world as a whole.” He held the last bite of a forgotten tidbit in his hand as he continued.
“Our aim is for the coexistence of our civilization and the natural world. Adaptation is necessary for all, but mechanical artifice is not our way. I cannot speak for certain that no trade is possible, but it would be of a limited nature when with our numbers.”
It was evident even with the altered nature of his features that Arphaxad was disinclined to continue, but he did so anyway. “There are merchants aplenty in Ravnica. The Orzhov Syndicate is a Guild in both respects. We are not in any way allies; our goals are quite different. Antithetical even. I cannot speak for them nor have I any dealings with them to aid in contacting them. But I can assure you that if you find Ravnica and have something they find merit in; a meeting is inevitable.”
“Yes, I can understand that, but I hope you’ll forgive me, I am obligated to ask. A large part of the business of Tarantis is trade, both on this world and across the multiverse. It is how we found or organization and help to maintain a defense of as many portals like, and unlike, the Fascrade Inthihil.” Khatri said. “As for the city, I wish I could say that everyone will embrace you with open arms but like most places, ignorance and superstition abound though you shouldn’t be openly challenged. Still, you may find some places and floobs in them will be distrustful. A few other things I feel compelled to share. Because of the city’s geographical location at the head of a deep bay, the nights are often foggy. This can reduce visibility to a few steps (yards) at best. Combined with the darkness that is often the rule, there are places within the city that are not unlike travelling in the depths. Care should be taken, least you run afoul of thugs or worse.”
“But it is not all dark and gloom,” the arch sage said with a smile. “In fact, we are but two days from the beginning of the festival of silver. A full five-day of festivities, masquerades, parties, and reverie. Visitors from across the world and beyond are descending on the city. I believe this will work in your favor as between the exotic visitors and the sometimes-gaudy costumes affected by our citizens it should work to lesson cultural shock. For them, anyway. For you, well you will be your own judge of that, I would think.”
A party wasn’t the reason the researcher had agreed to test the device from the Izzets. In fact, Arphaxad wasn’t sure what he would do with a festival, but if it allowed him to travel unmolested, he would use the advantage. “Thank you for the advice,” He murmured.
“Do you have any questions I might be able to answer? If not, I have taken enough of your valuable time and am willing to show you to a decent inn from which you may begin your exploration.”
“In fact, I have one. I do not wish to be accused of counterfeiting money... will my coinage work here, or must I make some sort of exchange?”
The arch sage nodded in understanding. “There are many money changers in the various quarters within the city as for coins from your world I suspect that you might have some issues using the directly. The standard for Tarantis is based upon the local monarchy. Copper bits, silver and gold crowns, electrum and platinum crows. Each monarch has a variation of his visage stamped onto new coinages while older coin is still accepted. Monies from foreign city states and distant lands, such as ‘The Land beneath Two Moons’ has an exchange rate that is set by the Ministry of Treasury though some inflation is known. If your coinage is based upon similar valuable metals a moneylender can weigh and value it.”
“I suppose I never considered that metals might be more or less common world to world... Hopefully my gold coins will have reasonable value here,” the man muttered. Back home, 10 such coins weren’t a fortune, but it would take time to acquire more. Thankfully he had most of what he might need in the immediate future. Still... “Perhaps if you could recommend a trustworthy money exchange, it would help me adapt more smoothly...”
“Yes, of course,” replied Khatri as they climbed the stairs. “It has been my observation that of the base metals, silver, gold, platinum as well as gems retain some value in pretty much every realm, plane, or world but it’s never guaranteed.”
As he stood Khatri said, “When the time comes and you wish to try returning to your world via the Fascrade Inthihil, you may contact me, and I will endeavor to aid you if I am able.” He led Arphaxad to a stone staircase climbing upwards and in casual conversation, gave him an address within the Sage’s Quarter where the arch sage said he maintains his residence. There was a reference to a small but clean Inn near the gate leading from the sage quarter to the merchant’s quarter. Khatri had assured him that the proprietors were accustomed to hosting the more, exotic, visitors to the city.
Before he knew it, Arphaxad found himself standing alone outside of Cosmic Cart Café next to the entrance to someplace called Falcon Alley. The inn looked small from where he stands but clean and well kept. A short walk down a street labeled Sage’s Way, he spotted the gatehouse. As best he could gather the city was vast with ten official quarters, each walled in and gated from the others. In the other direction, towering over this portion of the city, was the Citadel of Knowledge. It was via a small, posterior gate that he and Khatri had entered the streets.
Out of a population numbered in the tens of thousands only a scan few can say they have seen the city from the air at night. Even at a hundred feet, Boo had to be conscious of the occasional tower poking up out of the swirling mess below. Some quarters were more lit than others, but all had patches of light scattered about. On the rare clear evening it was a spectacular sight, but on most nights, like this one, some might call the view eerie. The nightly mists were never consistent. In portions of the city, especially closer to the dock quarter and the bay, it was thick, like a blanket trying to smother a nest of fireflies. In other places the mist was nearly nonexistent, creating pockets of bright. The mists flowed and ebbed, following the major streets like moving rivers of darkness. Above the mists, the sky was clear and ablaze with star’s and two of the four rumored moons to exist encircling the world known as Miran.
Boo revels in the sights of the city below her, day or night the view is always spectacular, always something new to see or marvel at. Ever since Boo was a child, she felt that flying was a gift of the gods to her and those like her, nothing could compare with the rapture of flight. She flies on twisting and turning about playfully, savoring the sensation of flitting through the night air as she makes her way towards her destination.
Of course, even though the amount of fliers in relation to the landslugs below was extreme, it wasn’t so extreme that she was alone. Ignoring the owls, bats, night birds, flying cats and lizards flitting from place to place over the heads of the ignorant below there were other sentients, some quite dangerous if encountered in the wrong way. She pasted a small winged devil, intent on its master’s business, the beast leered at her but moved on without pausing for fun. At another point she saw a pair of masked men, she assumed, sail by on a flying carpet. Each was armed and all in black. One faceless mask turned her way, but they were past and soon disappeared into a lower bank of fog. Skirting the edge of the temple quarter, Boo was treated to a spectacle on top of the flat roof of the temple of the moon and stars. A revelry was underway, part celebration, part ritual, dozens of naked priests and priestesses intertwined, others dance naked in the light of the two moons above. Music drifted on the winds.
Even though the night can be dangerous for travelers, both above and below for Boo flying is always her preferred method of getting around the city. Still, this night seemed a bit busier than usual but no doubt with all the parties and festivities ramping up it is not surprising. Steering well clear of other night flyers Boo did find herself rather envious of the men with the flying carpet, that is something that one doesn't see every day.
Reaching the temple quarter Boo finds herself irresistibly drawn to the rooftop spectacle, captived by the hedonistic revelers as she struggles not to give in to the temptation to crash the celebration and join in on the fun! Boo, however, does circle the rooftop for another peek noting the temple's location hoping her little task would not take too long and that perhaps she might check back on her return flight and join the party. Sadly, she just can just not afford to take the risk of losing the package.
After circling once, Boo lets out a disappointed groan, grumbling to herself about the life of a poor working girl she continues towards the Poor Quarter and the Eight Star Bar.
One downside to flight, especially at night with the fog’s and mists was the lack of street signs or the smaller landmarks that most floobs on foot used to negotiate the labyrinth of streets, lanes, and alleys. This might have presented a problem to another flyer but in her ceaseless pursuit of fun and frivolity, Boo had been to most of the bars, taverns, inns, and fleshpots in the city. The Eight Star was well known as this was not her first delivery to Lep, nor was business the only reason she’d frequented the establishment.
Spiraling down, Boo entered the mist, feeling the cooler moisture caressing her skin. From previous visits, she knew to expect a rooftop guard. One armed with a crossbow was usual. While fliers were rare, they weren’t unknown as previously established though the majority of floobs the guards were paid to watch for used the rooftops of the city like a second set of streets. Mostly nefarious sorts, but there were adventurers and others who did so as well.
Boo gracefully lands on the rooftop, her wings folding up behind her. She pauses for a moment to get her bearings, her long barbed tail moving back and forth as she takes in her surroundings.
A tall, bearded guard in heavy leathers glanced upwards sharply. When he didn’t immediately challenge her or warn her off Boo got the impression that the man had been keyed into someone’s visit via air. A professional, the guard’s crossbow had come up, but he hadn’t brought it to his shoulder or positioned it to fire. He looked as if he wanted to speak but the man’s mouth was hanging open as he stared at her lithe form, graceful wings, then seemed glued to somewhere below her eyes.
Boo, enjoying the guard's stare flashes him a seductive smile, "heya pooh-bear, arn't you just a cutie, can I keep you?" Her voice, silky smooth and honey sweet.
“I, ah” – he stammered, becoming flustered and red faced – “I, ah – “
As he stammers for a response Boo slowly approaches him and reaches upwards to run her delicate manicured fingernails lightly over his leather armored chest, "oh my, it’s a pity I have an appointment with Lep, so I am just going to have to put you on my to do list, how does that sound?"
Mouth still gaping, the man made a hesitant gesture towards a hatch in the low-pitched roof leading downward.
Looking in the direction of the hatch, Boo giggles and extends a hand just a little further up to playfully tap his right cheek with her open palm, "thank you kindly pooh-bear," then turns and walks up to hatch and starts to make her way down but not before pausing long enough to blow a kiss back at the guard.
At the bottom of the steep set of stairs leading up to the Eight Star’s roof stood a wizened looking human, his face full of wrinkles. A short-cropped beard white as snow covered most of his face, including his mouth. He might have smiled but she couldn’t be sure. Dressed in plain, inexpensive clothing, the man leaned on a polished dark wood cane.
She had seen the man around the tavern before. Jaken Corabain was some sort of Chamberlin meets butler for Lep. Doing odd jobs and minding the busy tavern (and guild master’s) schedule. Whenever she got close enough to the old man, who had to be nearing ninety in human years, her nose picked up an undefinable itch. Something about him oozed power, far more power than what his plain, unassuming old geezer appearance suggested. There was something else, too. Perhaps it was his cologne, or maybe magic, or, perhaps, it was something emulating from the man, whatever it is, it dialed up her already luscious mind.
Boo's tail twitches with excitement savoring the sensation she is feeling while in the withered old man's presence. As well, Boo is enough of a bad girl to easily be tempted by the trappings of wealth and power, among other things. Then there is the added bonus that older gentlemen tend to be more generous and appreciative with their paramours. But this was more than a puerile attraction to an older man she thought as she offered her hand to him.
Mischief sparkled in the old man’s eyes as he bowed and lightly kissed the back of her hand. The contact sent a wicked surge through her core, teasing her erogenous zones something terribly. “It is always a pleasure to have you stop by, Lady Belfrye, mmmm, yes. A pleasure.”
Boo smiles at him, a twinkle in her blue eyes barely able to control herself when he makes physical contact with her. A low whimper of pleasure escapes her rose-colored lips as she struggles to maintain her composure her voice trembling as she responds, "please call me Boo, my mother is Lady Belfrye and I am not one to stand on ceremony." She gives him a coy, seductive grin adding, "a shared pleasure then."
“Surely but you brighten an old man’s evening, yes,” he replies with a wink. “Master Staxx is waiting in his office. Shall I escort you?”
"Yes, please do, I always appreciate your company," her curiosity piqued, with each step, Boo found herself wanting to get know more about this mysterious unassuming man she had until now paid little attention to. As they walked side by side the Tiefling subtly inched closer to him lightly brushing up against him. Her thoughts racing as she could not help but wonder what sort of things he might enjoy. Was he like Vizzini too old, or too frail to partake and content merely to watch or might he be more capable than he appears?
Every light tap of her tightly garbed hip against his sent a light, teasing jolt through her. Where his long, slender, age colored fingers lay against hers her skin was on fire, the sort of fire that sparked one’s insides, encouraging heat to grow in other, more intimate places. If he had been a bronzed Adonis of extreme wealth and power it would make more sense to her slightly flustered mind, which said something. Boo shared more than her racial heritage with her mother’s side of the clan. During her teens she recalls one of her favorite stories that her mother used to like to gush about. That there was the blood of Succubae in their clan, only a few generations ago.
Boo smiles to herself thinking that whatever his secret she would eventually get to the bottom of it. For now, she is content to savor the sweet sensations and leave it for another time.
Reaching a heavy oak door, he lets go of her arm, turns and bows respectfully. “You have given an old man a moment of rare serenity La…Boo,” he says. “Lep is expecting you though I doubt that he’s prepared for such beauty and exotic grace.”
Boo meets Jaken's gaze as he lets go of her arm and bows, "oh, have I? I am gratified to know that I have you provided you with some small measure of satisfaction. If you should wish to experience a greater measure of sweet serenity, then you might consider a private dinner together some evening. I think I can promise that you will not be disappointed! Some of my lovers have even expressed that the rapture I provide is well worth dying for. As for your master Lep, we shall see, I can only hope that I do not disappoint."
He gave a knowing smile then walked off with the sureness of a much younger man.
The moment her hand touches the door’s handle it opened, and she found a grinning (almost leering) Lep Stax. “Ahh, I was expecting you Boosandie, please, come in,” the tavern owner and secret guild master said, opening the door further.
Once inside Boo flashes a seductive smile and gives Lep a polite and respectful curtsey, "I do apologize if I have kept you waiting long," she says sweetly as she gracefully glides up to the powerful guild master. Pressing herself against his chest, her arms open giving him a warm embrace before she tenderly brushes her lips lightly against his cheek.
“Can I have anything brought up from the bar for you?” The man asks as he closes the door behind her.
Boo casually moves deeper into the chamber and takes a seat, "yes, a glass of wine would be nice, thank you."
With a smile Stax went over to a large, crowded desk and opened the metal cap of a brass tube. Giving a sharp whistle, he spoke into the tube, ordering a Elven wine of old vintage and two glasses to be sent up. Replacing the cap, he grins. “Had a Gnome fellow who came to owe a small debt to me. In recompense he constructed the ‘whistletube’ gizmo among a few other things. So, it is my understanding that The Widow sent something for me?”
Boo watches with surprise and fascination intrigued by the amazing brass tube device. "A very clever fellow your Gnome, I am very impressed." Then gives him a questioning look when he mentions the name, The Widow. "Oh, is that what she is called? I am afraid that I deal with her through a third-party so I have never met her in person, nor can I recall my contact ever calling her that. But yes, I was contracted to deliver a parcel to you."
The young Tiefling then proceeds to open her pack and slowly pull out the locked bag of holding placing it on the table and sliding towards Stax. "There you go!"
Before Stax can respond a small bell tinkles somewhere and an odd sound, muffled by the wall, can be heard. Going over to where a small hatch was located beside a bookcase, he lowered it, exposing a small shaft about a foot square. Inside she saw a series of ropes attached to a brass tray. On the tray was a bottle and two glasses.
“The Gnome fellow,” the guild master said as way of explanation. Taking the bottle and glasses to a small table beside her chair Stax pops the cork and pours. “Not all of his inventions are as useful, of course, but enough are to have made me reconsider how he was to repay his debt. Now the little fellow runs a small business, creating and installing such contrivances into the manor houses across the city.” Handing her a glass, Stax gives her a slight smirk. “I am always on the look out for clever and useful floobs. Take yourself and your courier biz, my organization could surely benefit from one of your agility and cleverness, Boosandie.”
Boo reaches out and accepts the glass of wine offered and takes a small sip, "delicious," she purrs, "so tell me, do you usually offer all couriers such expensive fare upon delivery?" Then giggles rather amused at being called agile and clever. "I have been complimented many times on my agility and my flexibility in the boudoir of course, but never on my cleverness. I fear you are overestimating my meager capabilities just a tad."
She pauses and takes another sip of wine rather enjoying the vintage, "Besides, I am not much of a joiner, that's why I work freelance, it gives me plenty of freedom to enjoy a very active social life. I only do an occasional courier run when I am running a little short. I am not the type to be tied down, but I do enjoy getting out and meeting an interesting assortment of people like yourself who I might not otherwise encounter."
Stax looks disappointed but still chuckles as he toasts her independence. “There’s always room for freelancers as well. I figured since you were taking commissions from The Widow that you might enjoy being tied down.” Smiling again at his cleverness, Stax takes a seat in a large plus chair and sips his wine. Glancing at the bag he sets it on a small table next to the chair. “So many wheels and deals going on in this city, there’s a huge demand for talent at all levels. And you, my dear, are pure talent just appearing the way you do.”
Boo takes another sip of wine and smiles, "well I am always open to accepting new freelancing opportunities especially with powerful handsome men like yourself. We society girls learn early the value of establishing and maintaining a wide and diverse range of contacts and connections. You might even say that schmoozing is one of my primary talents. So if you have something specific in mind or if something comes up in future that I might be of assistance with, do keep me in mind. I am just not interested in working for one party exclusively, I am sure you understand."
“I’ll have to introduce you to another freelancer I am currently lancing. Firehair’s her name, a rather wicked Drow fem with flaming red hair, hence her piffy name.” He grins and shakes his head, “Then again, perhaps I shouldn’t. She’s dangerous on many levels and has appetites few can saite.” Stax was gazing at Boo from across the rim of his wine glass. It was more than the usual male interest; it was as if he was measuring her.
The petite Tiefling thinks for a moment, "a Drow fem with red-hair, named Firehair. Sorry, doesn't ring any bells but in the circles that I tend to run in, I've heard some pretty wild tales about a sensuous red-haired Drow courtesan that everyone calls Rose Red, maybe it's a nickname or an alias then again it could easily be another person entirely." Boo shrugs noticing his watchful gaze as she casually flirts.
Setting his glass aside, Stax picks up the bag and studies the lock for a moment, giving a slight nod he spins and twists the stylized raven-shaped lock. “Some of these are magically warded, trapped you might say. Some are not.” A soft click sounds, and the tiny raven’s talons pop open, release their grip on the drawn rings of the bag. Opening it, he drops the lock inside before slipping his hand in deep, nearly to his armpit. Lips pursing, he withdraws his arm and holds up two wooden vials. Interesting.”
Boo is rather surprised and caught off guard when Stax opens the pouch in front of her. In all her deliveries Boo has never once been witness to whatever it was that she was carrying, not that she ever cared to know, being of the mind that the less she knows the better. Taking another sip of wine, she sits the unfinished glass down on the table, "forgive me, I should be taking my leave. I can see that you are a busy man and I do not wish to take up too much of your valuable time. I enjoyed our chat very much, thank you for the wine." She says pleasantly and politely not wishing to offend but not wishing to overstay her welcome either.
“One such as exotically beautiful as you can never overstay her welcome,” Stax replies with a chuckle. His eyes gauging her reaction. Glancing down at the vials in his hand he seems to be weighing them. “Let me ask you something, Miss Belfrye. Being of one of the cities noble lines, albeit a second generation one, how do you view the politics of the city. Would you say that those perched beneath Alar the Lion’s throne are doing a satisfactory job?”
Boo sits back and picks up her glass and takes another sip. Offering a polite smile as she responds, "with all due respect, I couldn't give a fig about politics! Thus, I have absolutely no interest or opinion worth expressing." She says simply, her expression is one of growing boredom, but she politely feigns interest and listens to what he has to say in order to humor him.
“You see, in any city state worth its existence there are always factions. Factions and groups who believe they can do a better job than the others at running things. Now see, it’s no great secret that I am a member of an…organization. There’s a thin difference between the guilds and those political factions. At least, in some things.” Stax glances at Boo. “Sometimes the whole thing can become a complicated, intertwined mess. One faction seeks to gain ground over another. Another seeks to eliminate competition or pushes change somewhere, while a third strives to protect the status que or the existing power struggle. In some cases, they use physical, sometimes lethal means” – he eyes the vials again – “for others, information. Or more importantly, using information gathered to influence the various members of the factions to switch sides, to favor this idea or that concept… Here, for example, have you heard this movement within the government to clean up the streets?
Boo giggles finding his words amusing but agreeing somewhat, at least in part, "yes, yes it is all so overly complicated and messy, you have struck at the heart of why I don't involve myself with such things. I don't clean up messes, I make them! This faction, that faction, this guild, that guild, what does it matter in the end as there are always going to be people making messes and those seeking to clean them up. It is akin to a force of nature, an unfortunate unending cycle. But to answer your question. No, I have not heard about any efforts to clean up the streets." “Apparently there’s this rumor gaining ground that The Lion has issued a proclamation that the citizens of our fair city are no longer to empty their chamber pots into the gutters, alleys, or streets. This is an effort to clean them up.” He shrugs, “Perhaps in time for next weeks grand festival. Perhaps it’s some sort of test of the floobs. Perhaps it is a political ploy by one of The Lion’s functionaries to gain favor or to stand out as ‘looking out for the health and wellbeing…blah, blah, eh?”
Boo slowly puts down her glass of wine, stands up and walks over to Stax. Smiling at him she proceeds to climb up on to his lap, straddling him, face to face. Gently kissing and nibbling his neck as she whispers, "this is what you worry about, this is what keeps you up late at night, where the city's unwashed plebeians empty their chamber pots? How very droll, or maybe some petty functionary just stepped on one too many turds and just snapped deciding to do something about it. Sounds more like a potential business opportunity if you ask me, perhaps that clever Gnome of yours has an idea or two. In any event, I think you worry too much and are in desperate need of a little diversion." [NPC Reaction roll: Seduction (+7) 63+7=70 (+1 gained if second attempt made)]
“See, I – “Stax grins as she straddles his lap. Out of a subconscious act his eyes are drawn briefly to her chest, then stiffens slightly as her teeth toy with the side of his neck. One of his hands comes to rest on Boo’s hip. “Well, a lot of things keep me up at night.” Stax coughed and grinned when he thought about how what he had just said could be taken out of context. “Well, yes, I suppose – what I was getting around to was to suggest a few ways you could make some extra gold.”
Boo merely giggles in a teasing manner apparently finding some unknown detail of their exchange amusing.
Clearly taken off guard Stax laughs, his hand on Boo’s hip sliding over her lower back to press against the base of her tail. “That’s not quite what I had in mind,” he murmured. “I figured that since you’re a social butterfly, you hear all kinds of things in those parties of yours. I – “
Boo abruptly stops nibbling at his neck and smiles at him playfully, her tail twitching, "I see," she says giggling again teasingly as she slides off his lap and walks slowly back over to her wine glass to take a final sip, finishing it off.
She spots the flash of disappointment cross the man’s face out of the corner of her eye as she vacates his lap.
The petite Tiefling sits back down where she was sitting before climbing onto to his lap, "I hear a lot of things at parties, most of it, idle gossip, useless claptrap, or a host of other things of no real value already being public knowledge. Pretty faces are a copper a dozen at such gatherings, many are courtesans paid to attend to accompany guests or merely to act as alluring fixtures in general to spruce up an otherwise boring event. If you simply seek information, any of them can provide you with whatever you seek at a fraction of the cost."
Stax grins and shakes his head. “Oh no, Miss Boosandie, you are no mere joy toy or love slave. Yes, of course we milk such informants, bet your pointed tail we do. I imagine most of my competitors do the same. You, your unique in your beauty and rare in your birth, in more than one way. I imagine that your ears and your eyes see and hear things that the others do not.” The guild master gave a sigh then shrugged. “If you hear something that you feel might be of value, I hope that you’ll remember my offer.”
Boo's tail twitches moving rhythmically back and forth as if it had a life of its own, "yes, occasionally something interesting manages to slip out. If I do hear something that might be of value, I will be too sure to offer you an opportunity to bid for it along with other interested parties, like the mistress or the Widow as you call her. I do so love the free market and healthy competition amongst the movers and shakers of this city, don't you? But then I am a female and often act on a whim or in response to a slight. Of course, like all women generous incentives or inducements go a long way towards winning my favor or a means to cement closer ties," she remarks matter-of-factly.
Standing, Stax walks her too the door. “One more thing, if you will indulge me. I’ve been hearing a lot of rumors this past five day of vampire activity in the city. Not that I believe such beasts are present in Tarantis, I suspect it’s some sort of ploy or plot being put forward by some factions within the city, still….”
Boo shakes her head grinning, "vampires at least are a much more interesting topic of discussion than say, talk of chamber pots, I will keep all you have said this evening in mind, thank you again for the wine," she says simply giving the sense that he had failed to make either a good or a lasting impression upon her.
Returning to the roof exit Boo found the guard gawking at her again. He nearly tripped in his rush to open the trapdoor for her. Over head the mists had grown thicker at the rooftop level, making the area darker then before. Higher up, she sensed, one moon had diminished as the orb passed further into the heavens. The smell of rain was on the air as well.
Back at the exit, Boo smiles at the guard as he opens the trapdoor for her, "have a pleasant evening sweetie," she says to him tossing him a gold coin just before taking flight. Overall Boo had been less than impressed with the guild master and hoped that the upcoming private dinner party at Arman Flander a few hours before moonfest (midnight) would be an improvement. No doubt even a stuffy boring dinner party would offer more refined conversation than chamber pot conspiracies. The skinflint Stax had not even bothered to tip her, not a good look for him at all, at least in her materialistic eyes. But on the positive side, the subject of vampires did manage to pique her curiosity with her finding such a possibility extremely intriguing!
Livvi quickly follows Mordecai, catching up with him before he leaves the Inn. She carries on their conversation from inside. "You are correct that Nephele is my contact at the Brew and will ensure you are taken care of until I arrive or will bring you to me if I am there. The woman I want you to meet is called Bilina, and she has powerful contacts and deep knowledge of what is happening around the city. I have already told her of my concerns about a vampire haunting Tarantis - she needs to hear about Lilita's encounters. Of course, if the girl gets herself killed tonight, or turned into a bloodsucker herself, then it will just have to be you and me tomorrow morning."
Mordecai as he walks, chuckles, "She as a vampire may give her confidence a boost - I've never heard of a sulking vampire before."
The half-orc quickens his step commenting, "Where in blazes did she go? We were but a few seconds behind her - unless she decided to sprint out of the inn and all the way home."
As they walk, the bard sticks to the dark shadows of the streets and alleys, practicing her trailing techniques and trying to avoid being noticed by anyone else. Stealth: 10
Mordecai, looking for Lilita, yells out, "Oy, Lilita - where'd you run off to?!?"
He then looks at Livvi, realization donning his face, "Oh, sorry - you were meaning to be quiet. Right. Apologies. I was hoping my shouts would keep her from getting too far ahead."
Feeling her stare, Mordecai simply says, "Right."
"Maybe your approach is better. I saw the vampire Rezgui chased off by a parade of monks the other night... There may be a good reason to drive any predators away instead of trying to encounter them with their fangs already in the girl. Do you think she's heading back to her home? We could go there and see if that's where she ends up - hopefully we'll catch up to her on the way. Unless she is thinking if returning to the Black Rose - which I hope she is not! We should hurry either way, though." She motions for the large half-orc to lead the way, then turns her attention to trying to discern Lilita's, or any others, presence as they go. Perception: 24
"A parade of monks?" Mordecai asks. "There was such a parade today."
He asks Livvi for a description of this 'Rezgui' and, combining that with what Lilita has mentioned, tries to remember if he saw such a person at the religious parade earlier.
"No, this one was two nights ago. It was when I first saw Rezgui, and Lilita for that matter. He was talking with her at a clothier shop, but I saw something in his look that made me fear for her safety. Rezgui looks like an older nobleman, with a bright blue turban fitted with a big gemstone. At first, I thought him to be just another vicious old man who would take his lust or displeasure out on poor Lilita. I ran after them into the night - lost Lilita but saw the man in the alleys. That was when a parade of monks happened by, and he disappeared. Then, last night, I saw him with her on a rooftop, and he was about to bite into her neck! He also cast no reflection in my mirror, and the Blackhearts could not hit him with their weapons. Last but not least, I saw him jump off a building and transform into a bat, to fly off into the darkness. We must be cautious of this one. He has a hold on the Grey Lady that I do not understand...and powers I am not able to defeat. Yet." Livvi says quietly enough that no other person would overhear and panic at her tales.
"I would really hope she went straight home, but I don't know - she seems obsessed with this Rezgui. I remember her mentioning though that he's an enemy of those at the Black Rose." He pauses, "Is the Black Rose along the way to Lilita's vardo? I fear she may do something... ill-advised. You seem to know this situation better than I; I'll trust your judgment on where to go."
Livvi ponders the question for a moment. "Well, you know Tarantis. Everything is near everything else - and sometimes it is impossible to get from here to there. So, the Rose is not directly on the way to her wagon, but it is not all that off course, either. We could swing by on the way. An interesting bit of news that Rezgui is an enemy of the Rose. I wonder if that means they know what he is? I was investigating the disappearance of several girls around town, and the odd status of one in particular, who was returned but in a daze. She is currently in the Rose, but her own father is not permitted to see her. It sounds like a deeper case of enchantment than what Lilita seems to be under, so I don't know if the Rose would be a friend or another foe."
After a beat, Mordecai then says, "I really hope you are a goddess as Lilita thinks, or at least a spell slinger, because my weapons were not terribly effective against that weretiger and I assume the same will go for the vampire."
"I am no goddess, and I am but a humble servant of the crown. I suppose I have a powerful voice and passing skills as a crier, but a spell slinger? I am no wizard! Another reason we must be cautious." Livvi replies.
As they walk, Mordecai looks for signs of Lilita's passing, specifically ash fallen from her dress. About to make a comment the half-orc’s head jerks up as a scream rips through the night.
He sighs, "I have a bad feeling about tonight."
"That makes two of us. Damn, I hope that isn't our girl." Livvi picks up their already brisk pace, trying to determine where the sound was coming from.
Another scream comes from somewhere down a narrow alley leading behind the block behind the butcher’s shop. A feminine scream filled with pleading and terror. A third starts but trails off…not suddenly, as if the victim was silenced forever, but something had cut off her cry for help.
"There - down this alley! Can you see in the dark, Mordecai? Because that girl can't wait for you to spark a torch! Let's go!" She pulls a slim, yet deadly-looking, dagger from its scabbard and quickly moves down the alley. "I wish Lina was here with that wand..." the half-elf maiden mutters as she goes.
Mordecai immediately pulls loose his glaive. He then looks to Livvi, "I'm not in the habit of helping people when there's no benefit to me, but odds are if that's what I think it is, Lilita may be near."
He grimaces, "Let's find out if I survive one more night." And then charges towards the commotion.
As they pushed down the dark, foggy alley, something about that scream struck a cord with Livvi. Though she’d never heard the scream, the voice behind it however… Up ahead, not far away there was a thud, as if a body was being forcibly slammed against something. It was followed by a horrified moan, “No, not me, anybody but me!” In her heart, Livvi knew it was Nephele of the green hair and helpful smiles.
The realization that this victim was a friend of hers added an extra imperative for the bard and fueled the chaotic magic that instantly surges through her veins. Rounding the last corner, Livvi sees her friend from the café slumped against the cold, hard-packed dirt alley to find something that once was a man bending over Nephele, holding her still form in his arms as his mouth sucks on her neck.
The hatred for the creature that murdered Nephele springs forth, manifested in a series of demonic whispers that assault the psyche. (Casting 2nd level Dissonant Whispers spell dealing 12 psychic damage on a failed DC13 WIS save.) [GM rolled Wis Save = 12; fails]
"She was my friend. You will pay dearly for this, foul creature!"
The vampire, caught by surprise, reels from the psyche attack.
"The girl ain't dead yet - and whatever it was you did, keep doing it," Mordecai shouts as he charges in. "So, you're the famous Rezgui or just another overgrown mosquito?"
Mordecai deals a slash across the vampire's chest with his heavy glaive, putting all his strength behind it. The glaive bit into the beast’s thigh though not as deeply or as damaging as it should have, but Mordecai’s powerful push launches the vampire backwards where it slams into the wall of a unknown shop, hard enough to cause the beast to go down on one knee. [Opening an attack of opportunity]
Mordecai, seeing an opportunity for an attack open up with the beast just in the ten-foot range of his glaive, follows the momentum of his glaive all the way through to another slashing attack!
Mordecai let's out a slash across the vampire's chest with his heavy glaive, hoping the attack pushes the foul creature back and away from his prey!
The glaive bit into the beast’s thigh though not as deeply or as damaging as he had hoped for, but Mordecai’s powerful push launches the vampire backwards where it slams into the wall of an unknown shop, hard enough to cause the beast to go down on one knee.
Mordecai, seeing an opportunity for an attack open up with the beast just in the ten-foot range of his glaive, follows the momentum of his glaive all the way through to another slashing attack! The brutal force the Half-Orc applied to his strike would have sliced a normal person’s head in half, as it was the majority of the vampire’s nose went flying off into the dark.
Mordecai plants himself ten feet away from the beast and performs a feint, then reverses the momentum of his glaive and slashes at the vampire, knocking the beast back against the wall again as he calls out, "If you all got any of that sunlight or holy magic - now would be a good time to use it!"
"Lord Rakia Rezgui from the Karzulun, vampire and a plague upon Tarantis. You insipid dandy, we are on to you! Your nights of freely hunting the innocents of this city are over! You are a dread-bolted sandy-trousered travesty, and you are marked. You have threatened the Grey Lady and attacked Nephele and girls unknown. I will hunt you down and end your abhorrent false-life!" the anger and hatred continue to flow forth from the bard, given damaging effect by her inborn magic. (Casting 2nd level Dissonant Whispers spell again. On a failed DC13 WIS save, it takes 14 psychic damage and must immediately use its reaction, if available, to move as far as its speed allows away from you. The creature doesn’t move into obviously dangerous ground, such as a fire or a pit. On a successful save, the target takes half as much damage and doesn’t have to move away.)
The vampire scream’s more out of rage than pain as his hands reflexively went up to where his nose once was, cursing and railing, murder in his eyes: “Hades take you and your Lord Rakia Rezgui pointy eared *****! You and your tusker piss for brains. You dare, DARE to attack me? One of the Stengari? Oh, but flay yourselves now and save my kin from the trouble.” Even as he cursed the beast was swaying slightly. “Rezgui was banished to the sun cursed steppes a lifetime ago. I am Hannible Hamsto! Fear me and despair!”
"Hannible the Hamster, I think! Even if you can escape with your wretched excuse of a life tonight, your nights of hunting, and your nose, are gone! It is YOU who should be cowering in fear..." Livvi can feel the magic surging through her body, focusing her rage and desire to kill the vampire into her continuing psychic attacks. Luckily for Mordecai, the haunting sounds of her spell are only heard by Hamsto, who should, by all rights be running away from the bard in terror! But this creature was tougher than the floobs Livvi had been forced to use this spell on in her past. [Dissonant Whispers at 1st level damage: 8 ]
Mordecai, hearing Livvi's defiant words, is motivated by this Bardic Inspiration!
Hannible the Hamster’s head jerked about as if seeking a way out. His blood rimmed eyes bored into Mordecai’s, finding nothing but grim determination the beast turned to sneer at Livvi. “You fools! You don’t understand, my friends will come for you, you…cattle. It’s all your good for, well” – he leers briefly at the half-elf – “cattle. Food! Don’t you get it? We once ruled this city and we will again, soon. It’s all planned and there’s nothing you cattle can do about it.”
"Well, Hamster, you're about to be gored on our horns. Know that we are NOT your food. We are not bunnies or does, timid and stupid. No... we fight back. You know this - otherwise you would be walking out in the open. Instead, you hide your true natures and lurk in the shadows because you fear us. So, let that fear wash through you, bloodsucker. Because the last thing you will feel tonight is bite of my partner's polearm on your neck. And your plans? They will fail! YOU will fail!" Livvi keeps her psychic assault up, letting the anger seethe and flow from her to the vampire. (Dissonant Whispers at 1st level - damage: 9 and run away on failed DC13 WIS save. She will also grant Mordecai another Bardic Inspiration on his next attack! [Save rolled = 8, failed])
The beast calling itself Hannible suddenly jerks wildly, smoke appears, issuing from its skin just before it bursts into bright, vivid flames. A horrific scream rips from its throat as it’s consumed where it stands. In seconds, the vampire’s reduced to glowing ashes and the burning remnants of its clothing. An acrid, evil smell fills the narrow confines of the alley.
"Well, I didn't expect to see something like that today," remarks Mordecai. He then immediately starts searching the pile of ash, using his handaxe, for anything that might be useful or informative.
Mordecai looks at Livvi and states, "You should tend to that green haired lady, she looks a bit shaken up. Perhaps it's best if you send her to your inn - we still need to find Lilita." As if to answer the green haired young woman had begun to sob quietly where she lay, curled up into a little ball. (Livvi Moved this up - makes more sense here she says!)
Livvi let the anger, the hate, the need to strike out flow out of her when she heard her friend's sobbing. In three quick steps she was at Nephele's side, concern and compassion replacing the grim determination on her face. Her hands trembled as she reached down - whether from concern or adrenaline she couldn't tell. "Oh Nephi...it's going to be alright. That horrible creature won't bother you, or anyone else, again. My new acquaintance and I made sure of that! Here, let me check you over. Tell me what happened. Every detail. This was not your fault, so do not feel afraid or ashamed. But I need to know everything that happened to help put an end to these attacks..."
Medicine: 18 Livvi carefully examines the young woman, looking for wounds - especially punctures. "Damn, where's the Grey Lady when I need her most? Lilita, if you're out there, I need you!"
As Livvi examined the shaking girl the Bard was relieved to find no bite marks, no signs that the foul beast had managed to infect her. The green-haired girl was sobbing, clutching desperately to Livvi’s arm. Clearly the girl was in a state of shock. She had a wild look in her eyes, lips quivering with each word she gushes, “He…he kept saying he was going to own me; possess me. It felt like he was in my head! I screamed and kicked but his grip was iron, and he kept screaming, submit! I – I said I didn’t want to, and he started hitting me. Spitting and screaming about it was time; that HE was the master now, an – and that we’d all submit. That his brothers would see to it. He called me a cow!” Nephele wailed. “He said that the city’s proper rulers have returned, Livvi. That we’re all to serve their every whim. H – he said I wasn’t pretty enough to for him to give me the gift, as it had been given to him. W – what did he mean?”
Persuasion: 22. Livvi brushes the girl's hair between her fingers, looking into Nephele's eyes to get her attention. Quietly she says, "The man was a monster who meant to force himself on you. I am so sorry that you had to endure this, but I am so proud of how strong you were to resist him and even fight him off! Come, let's get you home. A hot bath, a shot of fire wine, and a warm meal will get you on the road to right." She slips her arms around her friend and helps her to her feet. "I'm sorry to say that I do not know where you live, so you'll have to lead the way. Can you do that, Nephele? There's my strong girl..."
As they start to walk back down the alley, Livvi turns to Mordecai and says, "Do you want to go look for Lilita? I've got this one...we should be fine now. Thank you for your help - not sure I could have done that alone. Come find me tomorrow if you want to continue this hunt...I work in the Market during the day, and you've been to the Inn where I stay. Oh," she concludes, "when you find the Grey Lady, maybe put a bell on her!" With that, Livvi laughs and sets off
"Oy, Livvi," Mordecai exclaims, "rather than take her home - gods know where that is - take her back to the inn. It's closer. Neither of you should be out alone at night."
"Are you sure you aren't willing to accompany me to find Lilita? My blades aren't nearly as effective as it seemed. I'd feel better with your spell slinging nearby."
Livvi considers Mord's suggestion, then responds to him while looking at Nephele. "You have a good point about the Inn being closer. Let's both get my friend there and tucked in, and then we can resume our search for Lilita."
"Nephi, we're going to take you to my room at The Whispering Mane where you should clean up and get some rest. My hulking friend and I were looking for another young woman who may be in danger - like you were - and we have to go find her. Don't worry, you'll be fine." she lies smoothly. Razgui had been outside her window just last night and was definitely unhappy that she broke up his lovefest with the Grey Lady yet again...but time was of the essence if they were going to find Lilita and the Inn was the closest place to go.
Nephele nods shakily, casting trusting eyes on the Half-Elf.
They walked quickly, staying to the brighter sections of the roads and avoiding the alleys. Once at the Inn, Livvi will lead Nephele up to her room, make sure the blinds are closed on the window, and give the girl one of her sleepshirts. She barely waits to say goodnight before rushing back out with Mordecai to resume their search.
Livvi quickly follows Mordecai, catching up with him before he leaves the Inn. She carries on their conversation from inside. "You are correct that Nephele is my contact at the Brew and will ensure you are taken care of until I arrive or will bring you to me if I am there. The woman I want you to meet is called Bilina, and she has powerful contacts and deep knowledge of what is happening around the city. I have already told her of my concerns about a vampire haunting Tarantis - she needs to hear about Lilita's encounters. Of course, if the girl gets herself killed tonight, or turned into a bloodsucker herself, then it will just have to be you and me tomorrow morning."
Mordecai as he walks, chuckles, "She as a vampire may give her confidence a boost - I've never heard of a sulking vampire before."
The half-orc quickens his step commenting, "Where in blazes did she go? We were but a few seconds behind her - unless she decided to sprint out of the inn and all the way home."
As they walk, the bard sticks to the dark shadows of the streets and alleys, practicing her trailing techniques and trying to avoid being noticed by anyone else. Stealth: 10
Mordecai, looking for Lilita, yells out, "Oy, Lilita - where'd you run off to?!?"
He then looks at Livvi, realization donning his face, "Oh, sorry - you were meaning to be quiet. Right. Apologies. I was hoping my shouts would keep her from getting too far ahead."
Feeling her stare, Mordecai simply says, "Right."
"Maybe your approach is better. I saw the vampire Rezgui chased off by a parade of monks the other night... There may be a good reason to drive any predators away instead of trying to encounter them with their fangs already in the girl. Do you think she's heading back to her home? We could go there and see if that's where she ends up - hopefully we'll catch up to her on the way. Unless she is thinking if returning to the Black Rose - which I hope she is not! We should hurry either way, though." She motions for the large half-orc to lead the way, then turns her attention to trying to discern Lilita's, or any others, presence as they go. Perception: 24
"A parade of monks?" Mordecai asks. "There was such a parade today."
He asks Livvi for a description of this 'Rezgui' and, combining that with what Lilita has mentioned, tries to remember if he saw such a person at the religious parade earlier.
"No, this one was two nights ago. It was when I first saw Rezgui, and Lilita for that matter. He was talking with her at a clothier shop, but I saw something in his look that made me fear for her safety. Rezgui looks like an older nobleman, with a bright blue turban fitted with a big gemstone. At first, I thought him to be just another vicious old man who would take his lust or displeasure out on poor Lilita. I ran after them into the night - lost Lilita but saw the man in the alleys. That was when a parade of monks happened by, and he disappeared. Then, last night, I saw him with her on a rooftop, and he was about to bite into her neck! He also cast no reflection in my mirror, and the Blackhearts could not hit him with their weapons. Last but not least, I saw him jump off a building and transform into a bat, to fly off into the darkness. We must be cautious of this one. He has a hold on the Grey Lady that I do not understand...and powers I am not able to defeat. Yet." Livvi says quietly enough that no other person would overhear and panic at her tales.
"I would really hope she went straight home, but I don't know - she seems obsessed with this Rezgui. I remember her mentioning though that he's an enemy of those at the Black Rose." He pauses, "Is the Black Rose along the way to Lilita's vardo? I fear she may do something... ill-advised. You seem to know this situation better than I; I'll trust your judgment on where to go."
Livvi ponders the question for a moment. "Well, you know Tarantis. Everything is near everything else - and sometimes it is impossible to get from here to there. So, the Rose is not directly on the way to her wagon, but it is not all that off course, either. We could swing by on the way. An interesting bit of news that Rezgui is an enemy of the Rose. I wonder if that means they know what he is? I was investigating the disappearance of several girls around town, and the odd status of one in particular, who was returned but in a daze. She is currently in the Rose, but her own father is not permitted to see her. It sounds like a deeper case of enchantment than what Lilita seems to be under, so I don't know if the Rose would be a friend or another foe."
After a beat, Mordecai then says, "I really hope you are a goddess as Lilita thinks, or at least a spell slinger, because my weapons were not terribly effective against that weretiger and I assume the same will go for the vampire."
"I am no goddess, and I am but a humble servant of the crown. I suppose I have a powerful voice and passing skills as a crier, but a spell slinger? I am no wizard! Another reason we must be cautious." Livvi replies.
As they walk, Mordecai looks for signs of Lilita's passing, specifically ash fallen from her dress. About to make a comment the half-orc’s head jerks up as a scream rips through the night.
He sighs, "I have a bad feeling about tonight."
"That makes two of us. Damn, I hope that isn't our girl." Livvi picks up their already brisk pace, trying to determine where the sound was coming from.
Another scream comes from somewhere down a narrow alley leading behind the block behind the butcher’s shop. A feminine scream filled with pleading and terror. A third starts but trails off…not suddenly, as if the victim was silenced forever, but something had cut off her cry for help.
"There - down this alley! Can you see in the dark, Mordecai? Because that girl can't wait for you to spark a torch! Let's go!" She pulls a slim, yet deadly-looking, dagger from its scabbard and quickly moves down the alley. "I wish Lina was here with that wand..." the half-elf maiden mutters as she goes.
Mordecai immediately pulls loose his glaive. He then looks to Livvi, "I'm not in the habit of helping people when there's no benefit to me, but odds are if that's what I think it is, Lilita may be near."
He grimaces, "Let's find out if I survive one more night." And then charges towards the commotion.
As they pushed down the dark, foggy alley, something about that scream struck a cord with Livvi. Though she’d never heard the scream, the voice behind it however… Up ahead, not far away there was a thud, as if a body was being forcibly slammed against something. It was followed by a horrified moan, “No, not me, anybody but me!” In her heart, Livvi knew it was Nephele of the green hair and helpful smiles.
The realization that this victim was a friend of hers added an extra imperative for the bard and fueled the chaotic magic that instantly surges through her veins. Rounding the last corner, Livvi sees her friend from the café slumped against the cold, hard-packed dirt alley to find something that once was a man bending over Nephele, holding her still form in his arms as his mouth sucks on her neck.
The hatred for the creature that murdered Nephele springs forth, manifested in a series of demonic whispers that assault the psyche. (Casting 2nd level Dissonant Whispers spell dealing 12 psychic damage on a failed DC13 WIS save.) [GM rolled Wis Save = 12; fails]
"She was my friend. You will pay dearly for this, foul creature!"
The vampire, caught by surprise, reels from the psyche attack.
"The girl ain't dead yet - and whatever it was you did, keep doing it," Mordecai shouts as he charges in. "So, you're the famous Rezgui or just another overgrown mosquito?"
Mordecai deals a slash across the vampire's chest with his heavy glaive, putting all his strength behind it. The glaive bit into the beast’s thigh though not as deeply or as damaging as it should have, but Mordecai’s powerful push launches the vampire backwards where it slams into the wall of a unknown shop, hard enough to cause the beast to go down on one knee. [Opening an attack of opportunity]
Mordecai, seeing an opportunity for an attack open up with the beast just in the ten-foot range of his glaive, follows the momentum of his glaive all the way through to another slashing attack!
Mordecai let's out a slash across the vampire's chest with his heavy glaive, hoping the attack pushes the foul creature back and away from his prey!
The glaive bit into the beast’s thigh though not as deeply or as damaging as he had hoped for, but Mordecai’s powerful push launches the vampire backwards where it slams into the wall of an unknown shop, hard enough to cause the beast to go down on one knee.
Mordecai, seeing an opportunity for an attack open up with the beast just in the ten-foot range of his glaive, follows the momentum of his glaive all the way through to another slashing attack! The brutal force the Half-Orc applied to his strike would have sliced a normal person’s head in half, as it was the majority of the vampire’s nose went flying off into the dark.
Mordecai plants himself ten feet away from the beast and performs a feint, then reverses the momentum of his glaive and slashes at the vampire, knocking the beast back against the wall again as he calls out, "If you all got any of that sunlight or holy magic - now would be a good time to use it!"
"Lord Rakia Rezgui from the Karzulun, vampire and a plague upon Tarantis. You insipid dandy, we are on to you! Your nights of freely hunting the innocents of this city are over! You are a dread-bolted sandy-trousered travesty, and you are marked. You have threatened the Grey Lady and attacked Nephele and girls unknown. I will hunt you down and end your abhorrent false-life!" the anger and hatred continue to flow forth from the bard, given damaging effect by her inborn magic. (Casting 2nd level Dissonant Whispers spell again. On a failed DC13 WIS save, it takes 14 psychic damage and must immediately use its reaction, if available, to move as far as its speed allows away from you. The creature doesn’t move into obviously dangerous ground, such as a fire or a pit. On a successful save, the target takes half as much damage and doesn’t have to move away.)
The vampire scream’s more out of rage than pain as his hands reflexively went up to where his nose once was, cursing and railing, murder in his eyes: “Hades take you and your Lord Rakia Rezgui pointy eared *****! You and your tusker piss for brains. You dare, DARE to attack me? One of the Stengari? Oh, but flay yourselves now and save my kin from the trouble.” Even as he cursed the beast was swaying slightly. “Rezgui was banished to the sun cursed steppes a lifetime ago. I am Hannible Hamsto! Fear me and despair!”
"Hannible the Hamster, I think! Even if you can escape with your wretched excuse of a life tonight, your nights of hunting, and your nose, are gone! It is YOU who should be cowering in fear..." Livvi can feel the magic surging through her body, focusing her rage and desire to kill the vampire into her continuing psychic attacks. Luckily for Mordecai, the haunting sounds of her spell are only heard by Hamsto, who should, by all rights be running away from the bard in terror! But this creature was tougher than the floobs Livvi had been forced to use this spell on in her past. [Dissonant Whispers at 1st level damage: 8 ]
Mordecai, hearing Livvi's defiant words, is motivated by this Bardic Inspiration!
Hannible the Hamster’s head jerked about as if seeking a way out. His blood rimmed eyes bored into Mordecai’s, finding nothing but grim determination the beast turned to sneer at Livvi. “You fools! You don’t understand, my friends will come for you, you…cattle. It’s all your good for, well” – he leers briefly at the half-elf – “cattle. Food! Don’t you get it? We once ruled this city and we will again, soon. It’s all planned and there’s nothing you cattle can do about it.”
"Well, Hamster, you're about to be gored on our horns. Know that we are NOT your food. We are not bunnies or does, timid and stupid. No... we fight back. You know this - otherwise you would be walking out in the open. Instead, you hide your true natures and lurk in the shadows because you fear us. So, let that fear wash through you, bloodsucker. Because the last thing you will feel tonight is bite of my partner's polearm on your neck. And your plans? They will fail! YOU will fail!" Livvi keeps her psychic assault up, letting the anger seethe and flow from her to the vampire. (Dissonant Whispers at 1st level - damage: 9 and run away on failed DC13 WIS save. She will also grant Mordecai another Bardic Inspiration on his next attack! [Save rolled = 8, failed])
The beast calling itself Hannible suddenly jerks wildly, smoke appears, issuing from its skin just before it bursts into bright, vivid flames. A horrific scream rips from its throat as it’s consumed where it stands. In seconds, the vampire’s reduced to glowing ashes and the burning remnants of its clothing. An acrid, evil smell fills the narrow confines of the alley.
"Well, I didn't expect to see something like that today," remarks Mordecai. He then immediately starts searching the pile of ash, using his handaxe, for anything that might be useful or informative.
Mordecai looks at Livvi and states, "You should tend to that green haired lady, she looks a bit shaken up. Perhaps it's best if you send her to your inn - we still need to find Lilita." As if to answer the green haired young woman had begun to sob quietly where she lay, curled up into a little ball. (Livvi Moved this up - makes more sense here she says!)
Livvi let the anger, the hate, the need to strike out flow out of her when she heard her friend's sobbing. In three quick steps she was at Nephele's side, concern and compassion replacing the grim determination on her face. Her hands trembled as she reached down - whether from concern or adrenaline she couldn't tell. "Oh Nephi...it's going to be alright. That horrible creature won't bother you, or anyone else, again. My new acquaintance and I made sure of that! Here, let me check you over. Tell me what happened. Every detail. This was not your fault, so do not feel afraid or ashamed. But I need to know everything that happened to help put an end to these attacks..."
Medicine: 18 Livvi carefully examines the young woman, looking for wounds - especially punctures. "Damn, where's the Grey Lady when I need her most? Lilita, if you're out there, I need you!"
As Livvi examined the shaking girl the Bard was relieved to find no bite marks, no signs that the foul beast had managed to infect her. The green-haired girl was sobbing, clutching desperately to Livvi’s arm. Clearly the girl was in a state of shock. She had a wild look in her eyes, lips quivering with each word she gushes, “He…he kept saying he was going to own me; possess me. It felt like he was in my head! I screamed and kicked but his grip was iron, and he kept screaming, submit! I – I said I didn’t want to, and he started hitting me. Spitting and screaming about it was time; that HE was the master now, an – and that we’d all submit. That his brothers would see to it. He called me a cow!” Nephele wailed. “He said that the city’s proper rulers have returned, Livvi. That we’re all to serve their every whim. H – he said I wasn’t pretty enough to for him to give me the gift, as it had been given to him. W – what did he mean?”
Persuasion: 22. Livvi brushes the girl's hair between her fingers, looking into Nephele's eyes to get her attention. Quietly she says, "The man was a monster who meant to force himself on you. I am so sorry that you had to endure this, but I am so proud of how strong you were to resist him and even fight him off! Come, let's get you home. A hot bath, a shot of fire wine, and a warm meal will get you on the road to right." She slips her arms around her friend and helps her to her feet. "I'm sorry to say that I do not know where you live, so you'll have to lead the way. Can you do that, Nephele? There's my strong girl..."
As they start to walk back down the alley, Livvi turns to Mordecai and says, "Do you want to go look for Lilita? I've got this one...we should be fine now. Thank you for your help - not sure I could have done that alone. Come find me tomorrow if you want to continue this hunt...I work in the Market during the day, and you've been to the Inn where I stay. Oh," she concludes, "when you find the Grey Lady, maybe put a bell on her!" With that, Livvi laughs and sets off
"Oy, Livvi," Mordecai exclaims, "rather than take her home - gods know where that is - take her back to the inn. It's closer. Neither of you should be out alone at night."
"Are you sure you aren't willing to accompany me to find Lilita? My blades aren't nearly as effective as it seemed. I'd feel better with your spell slinging nearby."
Livvi considers Mord's suggestion, then responds to him while looking at Nephele. "You have a good point about the Inn being closer. Let's both get my friend there and tucked in, and then we can resume our search for Lilita."
"Nephi, we're going to take you to my room at The Whispering Mane where you should clean up and get some rest. My hulking friend and I were looking for another young woman who may be in danger - like you were - and we have to go find her. Don't worry, you'll be fine." she lies smoothly. Razgui had been outside her window just last night and was definitely unhappy that she broke up his lovefest with the Grey Lady yet again...but time was of the essence if they were going to find Lilita and the Inn was the closest place to go.
Nephele nods shakily, casting trusting eyes on the Half-Elf.
They walked quickly, staying to the brighter sections of the roads and avoiding the alleys. Once at the Inn, Livvi will lead Nephele up to her room, make sure the blinds are closed on the window, and give the girl one of her sleepshirts. She barely waits to say goodnight before rushing back out with Mordecai to resume their search.
Livvi quickly follows, catching up with him before he leaves the Inn. Where she carries on their conversation from inside. "You are correct that Nephele is my contact at the Brew and will ensure you are taken care of until I arrive or will bring you to me if I am there. The woman I want you to meet is called Bilina, and she has powerful contacts and deep knowledge of what is happening around the city. I have already told her of my concerns about a vampire haunting Tarantis - she needs to hear about Lilita's encounters. Of course, if the girl gets herself killed tonight, or turned into a bloodsucker herself, then it will just have to be you and me tomorrow morning."
Mordecai as he walks, chuckles, "She as a vampire may give her confidence a boost - I've never heard of a sulking vampire before."
He quickens his step commenting, "Where in blazes did she go? We were but a few seconds behind her - unless she decided to sprint out of the inn and all the way home." [Perception Check to catch sight of her? 5]
With the nightly mists it wasn’t a total surprise that the slender healer was already out of sight’
As they walk, he notices the bard sticking to the dark shadows of the streets and alleys, practicing her trailing techniques and trying to avoid being noticed by anyone else.
Mordecai, looking for Lilita, yells out, "Oy, Lilita - where'd you run off to?!?"
He then looks at Livvi, realization donning his face, "Oh, sorry - you were meaning to be quiet. Right. Apologies. I was hoping my shouts would keep her from getting too far ahead."
Feeling her stare, Mordecai simply says, "Right." [Stealth Check @ disadvantage due to heavy armor... 3]
"Maybe your approach is better. I saw the vampire Rezgui chased off by a parade of monks the other night... There may be a good reason to drive any predators away instead of trying to encounter them with their fangs already in the girl. Do you think she's heading back to her home? We could go there and see if that's where she ends up - hopefully we'll catch up to her on the way. Unless she is thinking if returning to the Black Rose - which I hope she is not! We should hurry either way, though." She motions for the large half-orc to lead the way, then turns her attention to trying to discern Lilita's, or any others, presence as they go.
"A parade of monks?" Mordecai asks. "There was such a parade today."
He asks Livvi for a description of this 'Rezgui' and, combining that with what Lilita has mentioned, tries to remember if he saw such a person at the religious parade earlier ( Intelligence Check 11 ).
"No, this one was two nights ago. It was when I first saw Rezgui, and Lilita for that matter. He was talking with her at a clothier shop, but I saw something in his look that made me fear for her safety. Rezgui looks like an older nobleman, with a bright blue turban fitted with a big gemstone. At first, I thought him to be just another vicious old man who would take his lust or displeasure out on poor Lilita. I ran after them into the night - lost Lilita but saw the man in the alleys. That was when a parade of monks happened by, and he disappeared. Then, last night, I saw him with her on a rooftop, and he was about to bite into her neck! He also cast no reflection in my mirror, and the Blackhearts could not hit him with their weapons. Last but not least, I saw him jump off a building and transform into a bat, to fly off into the darkness. We must be cautious of this one. He has a hold on the Grey Lady that I do not understand...and powers I am not able to defeat. Yet." Livvi says quietly enough that no other person would overhear and panic at her tales.
"I would really hope she went straight home, but I don't know - she seems obsessed with this Rezgui. I remember her mentioning though that he's an enemy of those at the Black Rose." He pauses, "Is the Black Rose along the way to Lilita's vardo? I fear she may do something... ill-advised. You seem to know this situation better than I; I'll trust your judgment on where to go."
"Well, you know Tarantis. Everything is near everything else - and sometimes it is impossible to get from here to there. So, the Rose is not directly on the way to her wagon, but it is not all that off course, either. We could swing by on the way. An interesting bit of news that Rezgui is an enemy of the Rose. I wonder if that means they know what he is? I was investigating the disappearance of several girls around town, and the odd status of one in particular, who was returned but in a daze. She is currently in the Rose, but her own father is not permitted to see her. It sounds like a deeper case of enchantment than what Lilita seems to be under, so I don't know if the Rose would be a friend or another foe." After a beat, Mordecai then says, "I really hope you are a goddess as Lilita thinks, or at least a spell slinger, because my weapons were not terribly effective against that weretiger and I assume the same will go for the vampire."
"I am no goddess, and I am but a humble servant of the crown. I suppose I have a powerful voice and passing skills as a crier, but a spell slinger? I am no wizard! Another reason we must be cautious." Livvi replies.
As they walk, Mordecai looks for signs of Lilita's passing, specifically ash fallen from her dress. (Survival Check 17 )
For a moment Mordecai thought he found a smudge of fresh ash on the corner of a closed butcher’s shop. With the poor lighting and the fog casting odd shadows and effecting his Darkvision. About to comment on it to Livvi a scream rips through the night.
He sighs, "I have a bad feeling about tonight."
"That makes two of us. Damn, I hope that isn't our girl." Livvi picks up their already brisk pace, trying to determine where the sound was coming from.
Another scream comes from somewhere down a narrow alley leading behind the block behind the butcher’s shop. A feminine scream filled with pleading and terror. A third starts but trails off…not suddenly, as if the victim was silenced forever, but something had cut off her cry for help.
"There - down this alley! Can you see in the dark, Mordecai? Because that girl can't wait for you to spark a torch! Let's go!" She pulls a slim, yet deadly-looking, dagger from its scabbard and quickly moves down the alley. "I wish Lina was here with that wand..." the half-elf maiden mutters as she goes.
Mordecai immediately pulls loose his glaive. He then looks to Livvi, "I'm not in the habit of helping people when there's no benefit to me, but odds are if that's what I think it is, Lilita may be near."
He grimaces, "Let's find out if I survive one more night." Then charges towards the commotion.
As they pushed down the dark, foggy alley, not far away there was a thud, as if a body was being forcibly slammed against something. It was followed by a horrified moan, “No, not me, anybody but me!”
Behind him Mordecai hears a shout of anger and distress come from the Half-elf as they round the last corner and sees a young woman with green hair slumped against the cold, hard-packed dirt alley as something that once was is man bending over the still form in his arms as his mouth sucks on her neck.
Livvi gives a snarl of hatred and makes a gesture with one hand towards the vampire. "She was my friend. You will pay dearly for this, foul creature!"
The vampire, caught by surprise, reels from the psyche attack, lets go of the girl who slumps to the ground. Spinning to glare at them, he snarls, baring his elongated teeth.
"The girl ain't dead yet - and whatever it was you did, keep doing it," Mordecai shouts as he charges in. "So, you're the famous Rezgui or just another overgrown mosquito?"
Mordecai let's out a slash across the vampire's chest with his heavy glaive, hoping the attack pushes the foul creature back and away from his prey! {Pushing Attack with Glaive: 23 Slashing Damage: 12, also DC 13 STR Save or be pushed back 15 feet. } [GM response to Str Save rolls 01 <> attack successful (Dam 12 – 10 (Vampire’s Dam Reduction vs. normal weapons = 2) Hit Location 41 = Hit’s leg > Roll 20% > Target loses balance]
The glaive bit into the beast’s thigh though not as deeply or as damaging as he had hoped for, but Mordecai’s powerful push launches the vampire backwards where it slams into the wall of an unknown shop, hard enough to cause the beast to go down on one knee. [Opening an attack of opportunity]
Mordecai, seeing an opportunity for an attack open up with the beast just in the ten-foot range of his glaive, follows the momentum of his glaive all the way through to another slashing attack! { Glaive AOO Attack: 22 <Hit – Hit Location (Good Lord, I need to stop rolling or change dice) 01 > Critical hit to Head or Torso (Rolled Even for head) > Hit Location – Head > 09 > Head Trauma, slices off nose, +2 Dam, Roll Stun = 27 > Grazing blow, stunned one CR + -1 to all rolls for balance of encounter> Slashing Damage: 12+1 } { OOC - going for broke, since we're still waiting on Livvi, I'm going to pretend it's still my turn and burn my ACTION SURGE to get another attack in and I'll be using my bonus action, too - not used to playing a battlemaster fighter... Lol! }
Mordecai plants himself ten feet away from the beast and performs a feint {bonus action battlemaster special move allowing advantage on the next and tacking on 1d8 superiority die in extra damage... }, then reverses the momentum of his glaive and slashes at the vampire! { Glaive Action Surge Attack: 20 <Hit, roll HL = 07 > Head Grazed > Roll on Stun Chart > 85 = Grazing Blow, stunned for additional 7 CR, additional -1 to all actions for balance of encounter> Slashing Damage: 12 }
Mordecai calls out, "If you all got any of that sunlight or holy magic - now would be a good time to use it!"
"Lord Rakia Rezgui from the Karzulun, vampire and a plague upon Tarantis. You insipid dandy, we are on to you! Your nights of freely hunting the innocents of this city are over! You are a dread-bolted sandy-trousered travesty, and you are marked. You have threatened the Grey Lady and attacked Nephele and girls unknown. I will hunt you down and end your abhorrent false-life!" the anger and hatred continue to flow forth from the bard, given damaging effect by her inborn magic.
The vampire scream’s more out of rage than pain as his hands reflexively went up to where his nose once was, cursing and railing, murder in his eyes: “Hades take you and your Lord Rakia Rezgui pointy eared *****! You and your tusker piss for brains. You dare, DARE to attack me? One of the Stengari? Oh, but flay yourselves now and save my kin from the trouble.” Even as he cursed the beast was swaying slightly. “Rezgui was banished to the sun cursed steppes a lifetime ago. I am Hannible Hamsto! Fear me and despair!”
"Hannible the Hamster, I think! Even if you can escape with your wretched excuse of a life tonight, your nights of hunting, and your nose, are gone! It is YOU who should be cowering in fear..." Livvi can feel the magic surging through her body, focusing her rage and desire to kill the vampire into her continuing psychic attacks.
Mordecai, hearing Livvi's defiant words, is motivated by this Bardic Inspiration!
Hannible the Hamster’s head jerked about as if seeking a way out. His blood rimmed eyes bored into Mordecai’s, finding nothing but grim determination the beast turned to sneer at Livvi. “You fools! You don’t understand, my friends will come for you, you…cattle. It’s all your good for, well” – he leers briefly at the half-elf – “cattle. Food! Don’t you get it? We once ruled this city and we will again, soon. It’s all planned and there’s nothing you cattle can do about it.”
"Well, Hamster, you're about to be gored on our horns. Know that we are NOT your food. We are not bunnies or does, timid and stupid. No... we fight back. You know this - otherwise you would be walking out in the open. Instead, you hide your true natures and lurk in the shadows because you fear us. So, let that fear wash through you, bloodsucker. Because the last thing you will feel tonight is bite of my partner's polearm on your neck. And your plans? They will fail! YOU will fail!" Livvi keeps her psychic assault up, letting the anger seethe and flow from her to the vampire.
The beast calling itself Hannible suddenly jerks wildly, smoke appears, issuing from its skin just before it bursts into bright, vivid flames. A horrific scream rips from its throat as it’s consumed where it stands. In seconds, the vampire’s reduced to glowing ashes and the burning remnants of its clothing. An acrid, evil smell fills the narrow confines of the alley.
"Well, I didn't expect to see something like that today," remarks Mordecai. He then immediately starts searching the pile of ash, using his handaxe, for anything that might be useful or informative.
Mordecai looks at Livvi and states, "You should tend to that green haired lady, she looks a bit shaken up. Perhaps it's best if you send her to your inn - we still need to find Lilita." As if to answer the green haired young woman had begun to sob quietly where she lay, curled up into a little ball. (Livvi Moved this up - makes more sense here she says!)
Livvi let the anger, the hate, the need to strike out flow out of her when she heard her friend's sobbing. In three quick steps she was at Nephele's side, concern and compassion replacing the grim determination on her face. Her hands trembled as she reached down - whether from concern or adrenaline she couldn't tell. "Oh Nephi...it's going to be alright. That horrible creature won't bother you, or anyone else, again. My new acquaintance and I made sure of that! Here, let me check you over. Tell me what happened. Every detail. This was not your fault, so do not feel afraid or ashamed. But I need to know everything that happened to help put an end to these attacks..."
Livvi carefully examines the young woman, looking for wounds - especially punctures. "Damn, where's the Grey Lady when I need her most? Lilita, if you're out there, I need you!"
As Livvi examined the shaking girl the Bard was relieved to find no bite marks, no signs that the foul beast had managed to infect her. The green-haired girl was sobbing, clutching desperately to Livvi’s arm. Clearly the girl was in a state of shock. She had a wild look in her eyes, lips quivering with each word she gushes, “He…he kept saying he was going to own me; possess me. It felt like he was in my head! I screamed and kicked but his grip was iron, and he kept screaming, submit! I – I said I didn’t want to, and he started hitting me. Spitting and screaming about it was time; that HE was the master now, an – and that we’d all submit. That his brothers would see to it. He called me a cow!” Nephele wailed. “He said that the city’s proper rulers have returned, Livvi. That we’re all to serve their every whim. H – he said I wasn’t pretty enough to for him to give me the gift, as it had been given to him. W – what did he mean?”
Livvi brushes the girl's hair between her fingers, looking into Nephele's eyes to get her attention. Quietly she says, "The man was a monster who meant to force himself on you. I am so sorry that you had to endure this, but I am so proud of how strong you were to resist him and even fight him off! Come, let's get you home. A hot bath, a shot of fire wine, and a warm meal will get you on the road to right." She slips her arms around her friend and helps her to her feet. "I'm sorry to say that I do not know where you live, so you'll have to lead the way. Can you do that, Nephele? There's my strong girl..."
As they start to walk back down the alley, Livvi turns to Mordecai and says, "Do you want to go look for Lilita? I've got this one...we should be fine now. Thank you for your help - not sure I could have done that alone. Come find me tomorrow if you want to continue this hunt...I work in the Market during the day, and you've been to the Inn where I stay. Oh," she concludes, "when you find the Grey Lady, maybe put a bell on her!" With that, Livvi laughs and sets off.
Mordecai picks up the gown and feathery mask as the pair walks away. He quickly pockets them into his pack.
"Oy, Livvi," Mordecai exclaims, "rather than take her home - gods know where that is - take her back to the inn. It's closer. Neither of you should be out alone at night."
"Are you sure you aren't willing to accompany me to find Lilita? My blades aren't nearly as effective as it seemed. I'd feel better with your spell slinging nearby."
Livvi considers Mord's suggestion, then responds to him while looking at Nephele. "You have a good point about the Inn being closer. Let's both get my friend there and tucked in, and then we can resume our search for Lilita."
"Nephi, we're going to take you to my room at The Whispering Mane where you should clean up and get some rest. My hulking friend and I were looking for another young woman who may be in danger - like you were - and we have to go find her. Don't worry, you'll be fine." she lies smoothly. Razgui had been outside her window just last night and was definitely unhappy that she broke up his lovefest with the Grey Lady yet again...but time was of the essence if they were going to find Lilita and the Inn was the closest place to go.
Nephele nods shakily, casting trusting eyes on the Half-Elf.
They walked quickly, staying to the brighter sections of the roads and avoiding the alleys. Once at the Inn, Livvi will lead Nephele up to her room, make sure the blinds are closed on the window, and give the girl one of her sleepshirts. She barely waits to say goodnight before rushing back out with Mordecai to resume their search.
She was running. Running on short, unsteady legs, towards the most important person in her whole world. That person was beautiful beyond measure, at least to her. The person sitting in the rocking chair was safety, warmth, love, food, comfort… she could almost see her…almost.
And then she woke up.
Lilita couldn’t be sure how long she had dozed. It took a moment as her disoriented mind sorted itself out. She was sitting in the nursery of an abandoned townhouse. Nothing looked familiar, and everything looked like it should. But that was long ago, and she recalled speaking the truth to the Crow. How could she be sure home was her home.
Exactly, Lilita thought to herself, how could she be sure that this was her home, where her family lived and not someone else's, the city, after all, is filled with foundings! This could just as easily be the home of any number of them. She is starting to think that her imagination has once again gotten the better of her!
The crow was nowhere to be seen.
Lilita silently shakes her head thinking perhaps she dreamed the crow too and continues on.
Across from the nursery she found a door partially open, leading into what was once a Lady’s bedroom, a poorly lit one.
Lilita renews the Light cantrip on her ring and proceeds to slowly and cautiously enter the adjoining room to discover what it might contain.
A light coating of dust was everywhere, as were small piles of old leaves. The air smelled fresher and it didn’t take long for her to notice that a pair of glass doors were open a few inches. The doors lead out onto a small balcony overlooking the overgrown garden. Within the room were a large, four posted bed, made up with a flowery quilt and pink satin sheets. Near the bed a large vanity hosts a collection of crystal vials and silver containers. Perfumes and makeups of varying materials, she determined. A plush stool sits before the vanity and behind is another large, round mirror. This one covered by a sheet.
Lilita slowly walks to the glass doors and attempts to close them, not wishing the room to be further exposed to or damaged by the elements. Then turns her attention to the vanity, intrigued by the perfumes and makeups never before seeing such outside of a shop's window. The nannies who raised her with the other guild foundling females were very strict and had instilled into their charges that such things were frivolous and unnecessary.
As Lilita looked over the vials, running her fingers lightly over the fine crystal she could not help but smile with delight. Pausing to bend down and sniff the exotic perfumes Lilita tried to imagine her mother thinking this is what she must have smelled like. Still, small doubts continued to linger.
Her thoughts moving back and forth, upward and downward. If this was indeed her mother's room Lilita was also finding it somewhat unsettling to try to wrap her mind around the notion that she and her mother were raised in separate worlds. No doubt, the fey goddess would have shared much more in common with the woman who once sat at the vanity than the poor backward Lilita.
Staring downward, Lilita found her eyes once more glistening with tears as she thought how much she missed not knowing a mother's love, not learning the necessary social graces that a mother teaches a daughter. As she looked at herself in a nearby mirror Lilita found herself imagining that if her mother and father could see her now, no doubt she would prove to be something of a disappointment.
The mirror was unbroken, within her image gazes back at her with puzzled, puffy eyes.
Lilita continues to stare at herself for a bit before finally reaching up to wipe away the tears from her puffy eyes and whispers, "I am sorry mother I wish things could have been different for us both." Looking down at her feet shyly, feeling self-conscious, aching desperately for her lost mother something seems to glitter.
Out of the corner of one eye Lilita spots a small, silver gilded picture frame laying on the floor beneath the vanity. Face down and placed between a leg and the wall it had the look of something valuable, something someone wanted to hide in a hurry.
Her eyes looking downward at the silver frame on the floor at her feet, Lilita bends to down to carefully pick it up and turn it over.
A small portrait showing the silver-haired women whose image hung in the room below and a tall, handsome man, one whose image was strikingly like her noble monster. He stood, one hand on her shoulder as she cradled a girl infant. One with curly silver-blonde hair and eyes matching those peeking out of the vanity’s mirror whenever her eyes glanced at them.
Lilita looks down at the image and lets out a gasp of surprise feeling weak at the knees, tears streaming, her nervous stomach in knots as she stares at it! Could that truly be her noble monster!!! Were her instincts about him correct after all or is she once more letting her imagination get the better of her?
Her ears pick up a muttering qork coming from somewhere down the hallway.
Holding the frame against her chest, unable to look at it further but unwilling to discard it, Lilita clutched it tightly knowing that she would never let it go. If they were her parents then, that little portrait is the only thing that she will ever have of them all together as a proper family! Lilita turned following the familiar sound of the crow as if calling to her. She finds herself walking back into the hallway looking for it, following the sound.
It led to the end of the second-floor hallway and past a narrow stair leading both up and down to the door at the end of the hall. Perching on top of the bust of an amused looking old man that might be an ancestor, the Owl-turned-Crow mutters and worries the door handle beside him. At her silent approach the bird rustles his wings and cocks his head back to gaze at her, the glow of her light spell adding color to the bird’s black eye.
Lilita smiles at the crow happy to see it again, somehow feeling less alone and in some way reassured in its calming presence. She whispers to it, "and where did you get off to my little friend, I missed you?" She bends down and kisses its beak lightly, "please don't leave me, stay with me to see this through."
The bird responds by leaping onto her shoulder again and lightly tugging at a strand of loose hair.
At the turn of the handle the door swings slowly inward, as if waiting for just this moment over the years. One hinge squeak’s softly and several cobwebs are broken by the door’s passage. Beside her the crow bobbed his head than swooped inside where he sailed across a large bedroom to land on top of a bird stand sitting near the closed glass doors leading to another balcony. The room was easily twice the size of the ladies, with a similar large posted bed. Several wardrobes and chests fill spaces between windows on three of the four walls. A smaller side door was located to the left as she entered slowly.
Lilita looked about the room taking it all in as she inspects the wardrobes and chests for something inside that would reveal the names of the home's occupants. Journals, documents and other papers, engraved items like watches or jewelry, whatever that seemed likely to hold some clue to help her understand an empty home with everything inside, all for the most part, intact.
Lilita once again looks at the small portrait she has been carrying around with her, inspecting it more closely still trying to figure out if the man in it is indeed her noble monster. If so, why did he not say something? Did he even suspect she wondered? Why does she feel such love for him and at the same time a fury situated deep within her that sought his destruction? She felt those violent feelings back at the Black Rose but since leaving that place those feelings and impulses have started to lessen and subside somewhat but have not been forgotten. Perhaps it was that rage deep inside her that caused her to attack Nicci so fiercely. She had assumed it had been the wand that Mordecai gave her, maybe it is cursed, but now she isn't so sure that it isn't something or someone causing such a whirlwind of mixed emotions within her.
Seeing the smaller side door, after a thorough search of the room itself and its contents, she made her way slowly to it reaching out to open it. Then walk inside.
It was a private library or study. Bookcases lined several walls and a small fireplace a third. Cold ashes lie inside, long abandoned but further reminders that this place had once been alive with the small details of a family’s life. Near a shuttered window sits an ornate writing desk, it’s rolled top pushed up, displaying something that might be what she was longing for. An open book, the sort often associated with journals. Beside it lie several used quills and a stoppered inkwell.
Lilita is pleased upon finding this out of the way room, finally, a study has been located. As it is located off the master bedroom her father or whoever this man was she gets the impression that he must have been a very private sort of person with a study for himself. Slowly Lilita moves closer to the desk and pulls up a chair to sit down to begin to read the book she found lying open.
The last entry was written in a strong, sure script, the sort of penmanship of a well educated floob, or so she imagined:
“…time has become critical as these forces of darkness have swept over the city. Foul monstrosities roam the streets and alleys, foul men and women slaved to the disease that turns them into half beasts, enthralled to their unholy, undead masters. It is these masters; these Sanguisuge, led by my former peer, Lord Maigrinstaff. Basha Maigrinstaff, once my good friend and a valued member of the Healer’s Guild. I warned him from visiting that island and the tomb that it held. We were all warned by The Widow that it was a place best left untouched, but Basha simply had to know if the secrets of immortality were truly hidden there. Such a fable, such myth, and yet, truth in the most horrid of ways.
A great gift, Basha insisted, if it could be defined and understood. None of us truly understood. So, the expedition was sent with Basha in charge. Gone most of a year, we all grew to assume that the adventure had been a failure and that they had lost their lives, either on the sea journey to the island or on the island itself. Then my friend returned, alone. The only survivor he had said. But he was changed, different somehow. There was a coldness to his being, something that unsettled even the priests who attempted to visit him. At first, Basha seemed reluctant to leave his families townhouse, save only at night. When he did, he did so cloaked and hooded even then and preferred to avoid large gatherings. There was a legal battle within the Maigrinstaff house as Basha’s brother Tasran sought to complete the transfer of title and fief that had begun when the courts had determined Basha’s absence meant he was dead and thus, no longer the head of household.
When I visited, which I openly admit became far less frequent than I had before the expedition, I found myself probing Basha, seeking to know what he learned; what he had found and what had truly gone on. His reluctance only fueled my need; my obsession to understand. Afterall, if there had been some artifacts or knowledge than I was entitled to my share.
Basha, it seemed, did want to share that knowledge, but did so by couching it in obscure means. He insisted that the tomb was full of such things, all relating to when Tarantis had been ruled by powerful men and women, almost godlike in abilities and powers and that this was how the city was meant to be ruled. I still don’t understand, but I will, even if I must force him too…
The writing paused, and upon closer examination, she realizes someone had torn several pages free from the binding at that point. The remainder of pages were blank, untouched by pen or hand.
Lilita sits back in the chair, some of what she read seemed to make some sense to her, especially the part about Lord Maigrinstaff and the Black Rose. But the rest of it she found a little confusing or perhaps just missing some key pieces of the puzzle. If Lilita is understanding it correctly, it was Lord Maigrinstaff who had returned to the city as one of the undead and evidently spread the vampire curse to others and they roam the streets to this day. Was her noble monster one of his minions, willing or unwilling, was he indeed her father, if not what is his connection to her and is, he the one that owns(ed) this house and made the entries in this journal? For now, her mind is a swirl with thoughts and theories, but she still could not be absolutely certain where or how everything fits together and if this place is truly her home as the crow that brought her here seemed to suggest.
Not fully satisfied or ready to give up just yet, Lilita starts to skim through the journal at its beginning looking for the name of the writer and if he was married, the name of his wife and any child(ren) and determine if this book is just continuation of another book so Lilita will also carefully search the whole study itself, but especially the desk and the desk drawers searching for other books, journals or any other clues or objects that seem out of place which warrant a closer look. Did write find the knowledge or artifacts he had been searching for she wondered, or has it all been collected and hidden away in the Black Rose?
While her search for a name begins to seem a futile one, she doses uncover evidence (or the lack of such in several cases) that someone else, perhaps more than one, has been here and gone through things. The journal itself shows signs of missing pages. Most of the journal was just that, the personal observations and musings of the writer, who didn’t feel the need to address himself as himself, though there were pieces of missing pages that could have contained a name or details of others who might not wish those details to be known. Searching the desk itself also failed to turn up anything that would help her quest. Any materials, such as monogramed parchments, ledgers, other journals were absent though there were empty places within the drawers and the cubby holes of the desk suggesting that something, at least, had once been there.
Lilita sighs as she starts to think that she will probably never know the full truth behind it all. As the desk and the study seemed not to contain anything relating to the knowledge or artifacts the writer of the journal mentioned did not overly concern Lilita who was much more interested in clues about the identities and lives of the writer, the woman Anilia and their child, seeking anything, any scrape of information that would provide some sort of evidence that would either confirm or disprove that the child mentioned is in fact Lilita or not.
With nothing else to go on at the moment, Lilita turns her attention back to the journal, reading and skimming through its pages. Flipping through the rest of the journal, empty page after empty page pass by. About to close the small book her eyes fall upon more writing:
Anilia asked again this evening, begged even, that I give up this fruitless crusade that The Order now wages. She is scared, for me, for our sweet angel, and would have me end it and flee the city. Perhaps travel to The City State of the World Emperor in the land of two moons and start again. How can I explain to her just how badly we erred? How Basha’s actions are just as much mine to blame as his. More so, since he cannot control himself, though The Widow assures me that with time and an iron will, it can be done. If there were time. But the plague grows, especially among the Noble Caste. Each night seems to add more victims, more slaves to the madness. I must find a way to reason with Basha, or, find a way to…too…destroy what he has become. I am to meet with Tan Gregarari and the High Priest of Kuluth this day, to discuss if we should continue the crusade in private or if it is time to confess everything to The Lion. If it were my choice alone, I would inform the king so that the whole cities power elite can be brought to bare…
Upon reading the passage Lilita leans back deeper into the chair mulling over what she had just read trying to take it all in and make sense of it. Was the Order mentioning the Council of Owls she had dreamed about or was that merely a figment of Lilita's overactive imagination? Maybe they are connected but most likely not, she could not be sure of anything at this point. In any event, what stuck out to Lilita in reading the passage was the mention of three individuals that sounded like allies of the journal's writer and enemies of the Lord Maigrinstaff!
Lilita found herself wondering who the Widow is or was? Evidently an alias of some sort, not a true name which would most likely make this person more difficult to track down. Tan Gregarari, sounded exotic to Lilita... Gregarari seemed to be somehow similar to Rezgui, the noble monster, maybe the name also originates from the strange mysterious Karzulun people?
The High Priest of Kuluth, was a different matter, this seems to be her best lead to follow up on after she finishes searching the house. Lilita thinking he should be easier to locate or if dead then perhaps his successor, the new High Priest. Her next stop would be to attempt to seek out the temple dedicated to Kuluth and try to gain an audience but for now, she would stay and finish searching the house.
Glancing at the journal and turning the page she was about to put it away when noticing one last entry. Hurried and sloppy, as if the writer was under great duress:
“They were all wrong! I was wrong! He has become a force of nature, dark and terrible and seems to grow in strength and power each day. I – I shouldn’t have tried to reason with him. He won’t see reason and when I pressed, he, he told me that I would understand better after. Confused, I argued and put a hand on him, hoping to draw him back to reason. It was a mistake…a terrible mistake, one that I will rue forever. The hunger is mental as it is physical, perhaps more so. An evil curse. And yet, and yet, I feel stronger, invincible but at such cost. The hunger gnaws at me even now. From here I can hear their heartbeats; smell their blood, and it calls to me. I must leave…for the sake of both of those I love…
Lilita closed the journal and carefully put the book into her pack next to the small family portrait she had found, definitely keeping both of these items and the mirror shard. Before leaving the study Lilita takes a closer look at the study's bookcase and the books on its shelves...
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Livvi's story continues...
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Just off fish monger’s row, Cut Throat Alley wasn’t hard to find, nor was The Topless Tavern. The tavern was marked by a hand carved man’s torso heavily painted with colorful tattoos mounted above the door. No, finding the place wasn’t hard, not for Livvi who’d spent a lot of time learning the lesser streets and alleys of the city whenever she had time to spare, but dodging the grasping fingers of leering, half drunken males, was another story. The shawl did little to cover the ripped pencil skirt sewn with shiny bits like fish scales clinging to her hips or her bare belly. One rip had opened a daring slit in the skirt that went right up to the waist that opened every time she swung her hip. More than a few whistled or catcalled while several tried to detain the Half-Elf in attempts to discern her going rates.
After the whole vampire incident, the half-elf was in quite a foul mood. She ignored most of the floobs staggering about in the dark streets, knowing they were harmless drunks who couldn't help but gawk at her beauty. But the ones who stood in her way and tried to detain or slow her were met with harsh, biting comments and a magical blow to their psyche if they did not leave off... (Livvi will liberally cast Vicious Mockery on anyone who truly pisses her off! The intent is only to clear a path and let her get to the tavern unmolested...) "Get out of my way, you antiquated stain!" "Gah, what is that stench?" "You are a dizzy-eyed flatfooted dunker who has pissed himself one too many times...move on!"
At the entrance to the tavern Livvi paused and looked inside. The place was crowded with a trio of musician’s playing in the far corner. Pipe weed and other, less identifiable aromas created a smoky haze near the ceiling and bawdy laughter and conversation flooded her sensitive ears. It didn’t take long to locate her contact who was sharing a small table near the musicians with a heavily tattooed man with bulging muscles, olive skin, and dark, almond shaped eyes. "There he is..." Livvi thought to herself and started to move towards her contact.
Before crossing half the room Livvi is accosted by a brute of a Dwarf. One gray eye, one yellow, a pug nose that was thickened by numerous scars. He wore his beard in a thick braid, festooned with small copper rings. Thick muscles packed the Dwarf’s torso and arms, corded and heavily tanned, there was a huge tattoo sleeve on both arms depicting graphic scenes involving Centaurs cavorting with Elven maids. Clearly deep into his cups, the Dwarf nearly lifted her off her feet as he pulled her onto his lap. “’er now, missy, we’re ye be a goin’, eh? C’ome, now an’ sit ‘ere with ole Mardiat. Ain’t no slob in dis ‘ere joint gotta bigger staff fer ya to admire, hah! ‘ard as stone an just as rough, hah!”
Still in a mood, but not wanting to start an incident twenty seconds into the night, Livvi bites back her initial response - to slap, or stab, the presumptuous dwarf. Instead, she rolls her eyes and decides to play a different tune. "Ah, master dwarf, do you not recall what flowing water does to a hard rock? It eats away at it, bit by bit, until it is nothing, but small gravel scattered along a hundred miles of stream beds. This mermaid is more than you can handle..." Livvi attempts to stand and continue towards her mark, who by now has noticed her and turned to watch the show. The man is obviously enjoying her predicament.
Mardiat the Dwarf blows a raspberry, his powerful arms pulling her back down onto his lap so she could admire his ‘rough and stony staff’. Reaching for a pouch at his belt the Dwarf leers and winks, slobbering slightly on her. “See? Me got’s coin an’ more ta share with a play pretty like yerself! Me likes o’ bit o’ tha’ Elvish, hee!”
"What the hell..." Livvi thinks to herself. [Sleight of Hand: 22 <> Mardiat’s perception check 20] She squirms a bit on the dwarf's lap to distract him, and tries to relive him of the money pouch. She kisses his cheek and says, "I appreciate your interest in my grace and form..." then stands up and slaps him, "...but that's for implying that I can be bought like some whore."
Glaring at her for a moment, the Dwarf than bursts out in laughter and winks. “Aye, yer o’ fine, fiery lass an’ more. J’us remember, Mardiat o’ Clan Stonestaff’s always got an’ electrum fer o’ fine fey kitty such as yourself, hee!”
Livvi winks at Mardiat as she turns and walks over to her target. She bends down, rubs her breasts against his shoulder and whispers in his ear, "This will cost you, Timmy...let's go. We have something to discuss." She straightens up, curling her fingers around his ear and walks off to the back of the tavern, looking for a private room or at least a secluded table where they can talk.
Timmy winked at his companion before standing and following her with an admiring grin. The Dwarf’s pouch in hand, Livvi located an empty private room at the back, one of three, kept by the tavern owner. The room was small, furnished with a padded bench along the back wall, a round table set close to the floor, and a single smoking lantern sitting in the middle. The door had a wooden cross bar that could be dropped in place for additional privacy.
“Ahh lassy, I’ve always known you love me,” the rogue said with a foreign (Asian) tenor. Closing the door behind them, Timmy leans his bare back against the wood and openly leers at her costume. “Such perk, ahahahhaa.”
"So this little pleasure," she indicates her body painted torso, "will be your payment for tonight's meeting. Understood?!" she says with a tone that clearly indicates that she will not accept any other terms. Before he can even respond, she continues to tell him about the disappearances of several merchants or their daughters, the strange case of the silversmith's daughter and her current malaise, how she was found wandering the streets buck naked behind the Black Rose, and the complete and sordid tale of Lilita and the vampire she had just escaped.
At the first part the man from the land of two moons looked disappointed then his expression changed to look troubled. “Vampires are nothing to toy with,” Timmy said with a frown. “And…?”
"So, what I need to know from your sources is, what do they know of the disappearances and vampires. Are they all related, or are these separate events with different culprits? I need specifics on any other missing persons, or any girls who have been found wandering aimlessly in the dark with no memory of where they have been. You know me, Timmy...I didn't want to get back into this game, but I'm trying to protect the girls in this part of the city. Also, what do you hear about a possible hanging in the next few days? Some agent that was captured recently after a big dust-up? Is it anyone you know?"
“You’re not asking for much, are you.” He gave a short laugh lacking any humor before going over to sit on the padded bench and eyeing her sideways. “Your assuming that my associates can answer even a tenth of what your asking. After all, the Night Stalker’s (one of four thieves guilds in the city) don’t exactly allow the Sanguisuge to join our ranks. They, if they exist at all, I assume, would have an agenda of their own.” Timmy frowns again. “If it is the Sanguisuge, then you wouldn’t need to do much investigating when it comes to disappearances. They feed on anything with warm blood. Monsters and voracious ones at that, if the old tales are to be believed. That they may or may not be going after the nob’s and other wealthy floobs isn’t too much of a stretch for the imagination. After all, from what little I know from the stories and children’s tails of vampires is that they tend, when not sucking everyone dry, to live like they did when they were…alive. Usually as nob’s and merchants.”
Livvi nods at Timmy's explanations and questions, thinking for a moment before answering, "You are correct - people can be monsters sometimes and there is no way we can change human nature. But that doesn't mean I can't try to help one or two as I am able. And you know as well as I that vampires are an evil that is completely different than the men and women in the guilds. Not that I wouldn't like to remove some of them, too, but for now I am focused on this threat. If nothing else, I wanted to warn you and my old friends about this danger so that you would at least be on the lookout for it and take some precautions. In this matter I think almost all in the city would band together...At least the Blackhearts know of it. That will go a long way towards getting the word out to the City Guard and perhaps even some of the nobs' private guards."
The man shrugged, still looking troubled. “As for wondering girls with no memories, that too, could be the work of this Sanguisuge of yours, or it could be something else, something more…normal. As you well know there is always a market for young, pliable, easily dominated women and men for that matter. Deviants with plenty of coin and few morals who prefer to dominate or control their toys. Joy toys, they’re called back where I was born,” Timmy said. “This control can be magical in nature, or it can be alchemical. Of course, considering the wealthy can own slaves outright and make them do their bidding, even in this city, and that there’s thousands of willing or desperate floobs who, for little or no coin, will prostrate themselves in any manner that coin owner desires makes it doubly deviant. Frankly, if it were common street people or the sons and daughters of the working poor would you be so concerned about these disappearances?”
“People disappear daily in every city of significant size,” Timmy reminds her, “Press gangs work the taverns and winesinks of the docks, searching for recruits for ships of all sorts. Monsters disguised as people hunt in the dark and fogs every night. Floobs gamble and cannot pay their debts, some pay with their lives, other’s pay with the lives of those they hold dear” – though Timmy wasn’t saying it, there were cables in the various thieves guilds, his own included, that ran such rackets or acted as enforcers to collect debts, for a fee. They also ran brothels, pimped whores and other street entertainers, and, most likely, caused more then their share of floobs to end up dead or missing.
“It’s a nasty, chaotic, evil world, Livvi.”
The young woman's expression softens for a moment. "Look - you and I have been tight since childhood. Just be careful, alright? And run away if you see an older gentleman in a blue turban with a big-ass jewel. He is truly more powerful than you or I am ready for yet. I do appreciate your honesty - and your discretion. Now - tell me how the old gang is doing..."
They spend the next hour or so reminiscing and catching up. Timmy describes the capers he had been involved in recently (and likely exaggerating his role in them), Livvi describing her important position in the Lion's Pride (equally exaggerating her status.) Together they consume a fair amount of spirits and stew, eventually stumbling back to their respective abodes in good moods and slightly buzzed.
<><><><><><><><>
Lilita's story continues...
Lilita watches the knight slump over surprised that her spell actually worked and quickly moves from her chair to the small fireplace in the room, moistens her finger and scoops up some soot and dashes over to the knight and lightly kisses the knight's forehead to moisten it as well as she whispers under her breath, "my apologies sweet knight sleep well and may the beautiful Fey Goddess haunt your dreams."
Then without delay Lilita uses her finger and the soot to quickly and crudely draw the sigil of the Fey Goddess on the slumbering knight's forehead. When he awakens, he will not be able to see it but no doubt the men under his command will take note and may find it very amusing... at his expense!
Not wasting any time having it all planned out she quickly and quietly proceeds to slip out the door to the room, closing it behind her..****y to find three men-at-arm’s standing in the inn’s public room. One was questioning the Inn’s owner and staff, another stood by the front exit. The third, a tall, cool eyed man with dark skin turned as she closed the door.
Lilita again wasted no time presenting herself with a polite and respectful curtsy to the Blackheart man-at-arms serving the knight she sees and says, "m' lord wishes to interview the fey goddess in private without me underfoot," looking down at the ground shyly still in a state of half-undress, "and it is also m' lord's desire that you see me home without delay on horseback... and commands that you take careful note of where you leave me should m' lord have need of me for a follow up interview, he will know exactly where to find me." [Deception roll (+2) 16+2=18 <vs.> Men-at-arms Intelligence check = 14 (success)]
Eyeing her state of dress and catching the grins of his fellow Blackhearts the man nods slowly, his expression turning from amused to stern. “Come with me.” He heads out side where there were large numbers of both City Guard, Blackhearts, and gawking citizens. Calling out to a young man holding the reigns of a horse he repeats the ‘order’.
Sitting in front of the Blackheart, Lilita can see that the young man who is really close to her own age, is taking care. Because of the dark, or perhaps because of his lack of skill with riding, she didn’t know.
“Where we goin’, miss?”
Lilita sitting on the horse in front of the young Blackheart replies to his question, "you will know soon enough m' lord, just please follow my directions, it won't take too long, and I can be good company. My name is Lilita by-the-way, what is your name, if I may be so bold to ask?" She is friendly and polite to him, chatting on endlessly as young girls often do. "You must very skilled to be a part of the famous Blackhearts being so young, a very impressive feat! Are you married or have a sweet-heat, a brave handsome man like yourself I bet you have sweet-heart or two! Always my poor luck to meet a handsome and interesting gentleman who is already spoken for. Oh, and thank you and your fellow Blackhearts by the way for saving me this evening, I thought I was done for up there on that roof."
Out of the corner of one eye she could see that he was blushing. One arm holding the reigns to the horse, his other was clasped gently around her waist in such a manner that it seemed that he was overly conscious of the fact that what remained of the top half of Lilita’s dress was barely sufficient to cover her pale flesh.
“You are welcome, miss,” he stammered slightly. “I – I’ve only been part of the company for a moon now and am very junior. I, ah, I – ah…no, no, I haven’t a sweetheart, not yet. Duty, you know,” he added, trying to sound older and wiser. After a moment, as if he had forgotten she asked, he stammers, “Tarin, miss, my name is Tarin.”
Lilita will made small talk with him getting to know him and he... her as they ride together on horseback. "Your Knight Commander told me, what is his real name again, is a real lord? He told me all about this Night Shadow fellow you all were chasing except what he did... what exactly did he do that caused such force to be brought to bear to catch him? A strange turn of events I must say for him to be in cahoots with that baker’s assistant, Garse the Gaffer... now, what shop was it that employed him? I imagine he must in the stocks by now as he no doubts deserves!"
“Captain Kelban? Oh, he’s a great man; a great commander,” Tarin said. “Kelban Bessari, of the noble family of the same name. My captain is third son to Count Bessari, whose family estate is of the Jarmeer province.” At the mention of the Night Shadow Tarin’s face turned determined, his arm tightening around her waist so that she felt herself drawn closer to him. “The man’s a notorious thief, miss. Terrible man, they say. Slip’s into windows at night, taking everything of value and deflowering any maid he encounters. I – “at the mention of the baker’s assistant Tarin hesitated – “…well, I don’t know. We were told that one of the Blue Cobra’s fingered this Garse as part of a conspiracy to kill the Head Sage. He works at the Baker’s Guild Hall, or so it was said. Stocks? No, whatever he’s accused of he’s to face the Lion’s Justice in the morning.”
The baker’s guild was large as it consisted of several large bakeries and grain storage sites within the city and was responsible for providing for both the palace and for most of the city’s governmental needs as well as numerous small businesses and temples.
She has him travel the roundabout way so that she is able to question and maybe get some more information and so she doesn't want to get to her destination too quickly, another reason why she just didn't tell him the name of where they were going... to begin with! Once she learned all she is able her young Blackheart and the mysterious Night Shadow Lilita will have him come to a stop across the street from the Black Rose Healing House.
When talking to the knight commander Lilita remembered before when outside the Black Rose that wealthy merchant was searching for his daughter who was under their care, but they would not let him inside making Lilita wonder if her mysterious patient that disappeared from her Vargo wagon was the merchant's daughter. Was she at the Black Rose and escaped she wondered... was that why they would not let her father inside to see her because they lost her? As well Lilita also thought about the woman's strange wound, a single tiny pin-prick somehow made her think of her father's strange lone elongated tooth she had noted back at her master's shop when she encountered him there. Though she has no proof, something, some instinct, a gut feeling makes her suspect that her father is somehow tied to the Black Rose Healing House. When he had come for her, she had thought he might have been sent by Lord Basha Maigrinstaff, that was the 'him' she referred to. If not, then perhaps they connected to the others like her father whom he hinted about... was the Black Rose something more, a place for them to gather, a tavern of sorts for noble monsters or just her father???
Lilita turns and smiles at her young guardian angel, "we are here, we have arrived..." pointing at the at the Black Rose, "thank you for escorting me and being such a gentleman to me. I know my state of undress I must seem like sort of tavern tart; I am not so I do hope that I can you see again sometime. Could you please do me a favor, could you please wait right here and watch me go up to the door and make I get inside alright... don't leave until I am safely inside please, I am afraid and been through so much this evening. Also, could you please when return to the Knight Commander to say to him for me the following... I am sorry m' lord, I beg your forgiveness and your indulgence, please wait until tomorrow noon before calling upon me at the Black Rose Healing House, I am trying to help you locate the fellow you are looking for. I believe he might show but not until later... so it is best to wait before springing the trap before he arrives and ruin everything." Lilita then presses her lips against the young Blackheart's cheek, giving him a polite thank you kiss!!!
“Of course, Miss,” Tarin said with another raging blush. He slid off the horse and then helped her dismount, his eyes drawn to how Lilita’s torn gown gaped open occasionally as she moved. “I will wait as long as I dare, of course, I – “He blushes again at the kiss.
Leaving the young by his horse, she crosses the street making her way to the front door of the Black Rose, glancing back to check to make sure he is still there waiting and watching for her to go inside before he leaves as instructed.
Lilita knocks on the door and keeps knocking... very loudly even though it must be an ungodly hour of the night until someone answers the door and opens it. Whoever it is that answers the door Lilita will look up at him or her, "please let me inside, I have come to see my father, you know the noble gentleman with the lovely priceless white sapphire stone mounted on a pin that secures a fine blue satin turban... we were separated and he told me that if that should happen then I was to come here and wait for him. I am not going anywhere until I see him!" She demands sternly...
“So, it seems.”
A woman with lush curves and long, brown hair tied back in a pair of ponytails had answered the door. She wore a pure white gown of exquisite design and material. A slender belt of copper rings encircled her waist, helping to create the appearance of a tighter waist. Her age was hard to determine but her tone and her graceful motions hinted as a noble birth.
“My, but you look in terrible shape, my dear, terrible. Your father? We have no male patients in residence this day, that I am sure off. Though,” one manicured nail lightly tapped on her perfect chin, “there are several that the Master is treating at their homes.” Her eyes slowly meandered over Lilita in such a manner that she felt that she was being judged, measured, and weighed. “I am sure that your father was mistaken. I doubt that he has the means to contract the master’s services. Perhaps you should try one of the Healer Guild’s chapter houses, or one of the temples? They take in charity cases.”
Lilita scowls at her, "my father is not a patient, he is a noble monster, one of the city's great old ones though he now only has the one special tooth he still able to transform into bat when he pleases! While the likes of you and I are only cows as he is so fond of saying." Lilita says stubbornly and defiantly...
"Perhaps the Blackheart soldier stationed just across the street there watching us. He who serves under Captain Kelban Bessari, the third son to Count Bessari, whose family estate is of the Jarmeer province might be interested in escorting me to one of the Healer Guild’s chapter houses and along the way, my tongue can do a bit of wagging! Tell me can your master Lord Basha Maigrinstaff afford to come under the scrutiny of the Blackhearts? They with a direct channel to the ear of the mighty Lion himself!!! I think your master can ill afford such scrutiny so soon after losing Artisan Karigaon's daughter who was left in your care? Do you really want that? Do you wish to risk such a thing or is this all a bit above your pay grade, so consider carefully? Take me inside now, give me a warm bowl of porridge, let me wait until morning and if my father has not presented himself before the rising sun then you can send me on my way at first light confident that I am merely the little guttersnipe you take me to be! No doubt the Blackheart will lose interest by then and himself be gone as well... problem solved. Or will you in your vanity and ignorance prefer to toss the dice?" [woman’s reaction roll = 74]
“Why you – “
“What do we have here, Nicci?”
Nicci sneers at Lilita but turns to look at the new arrival. A slender, beautiful woman of an undetermined age who wears her blond hair draped over the left side of her face; the right side shaved clean to the scalp. She too, wore an expensive white gown that shimmered in the light of the crystal lanterns above the doors.
“Some gutter tripe trying to bullshit her way inside.”
“Nicci! Such language, have you learned nothing of the gentle arts?” The blonde bowed slightly to Lilita even as her jade green eyes washed over the healer in such a way as to cause her to aware of her current state of dress. Was it pity? Or was it something far more personal? Tongue lightly licking her upper lip the woman’s smile was inviting as it was lascivious. “She is of the healer’s guild; can you not see her sigil? For that reason alone, she is right to expect civility from the master’s house.” Nicci rolled her eyes but the new comer ignored her as she opened the door further, taking in the young Blackheart loitering across the street before sweeping over Lilita’s current state of damaged dress. Whether it was the young man across the street or some bit of empathy for Lilita’s current state or something darker, wasn’t clear, but the blonde gave Lilita a sisterly smile.
“Please, come inside. If nothing else we can attend to your gown’s wounds, and perhaps, assuage the young lad across the street’s overt concern for you, Miss?” As she spoke the blonde stepped back and by her posture, inviting Lilita to enter the House of the Black Rose. Nicci frowned but rolled her eyes again and disappeared inside.
Lilita looks at the blonde lady with a cool smile as she gives her a polite and respectful curtsy, "thanks m'lady, you are most kind. I take it there is no need to repeat myself since you were listening to our whole conversation where you stood just to the side of the door... out of sight?" She states rather matter-of-factly as she walks through the doorway inside... following the lady without fear or concern as the door is closed behind her.
The anterior room had several archways leading deeper into the Black Rose. Plush chairs and padded benches lined two walls. A small table sat between the two chairs holding a vase of fresh cut flowers. The walls were painted with murals dedicated to healing and healthy living, creating an inviting area for would be patients to wait upon calling. All in all, the room was about the same size of the entirety of Pencelot’s shop.
As she walks Lilita glances down at her signet ring with the sigil of the healer guild, the emblem that is sewn into her dress all but hidden between the damaged folds, "you are most observant m' lady but then true healers are trained to be observant are they not? But may I ask, how do you know that it is not stolen?"
The one called Nicci was leaning nonchalantly against the wall as Lilita followed the blonde. She snorted. “Is it?” she snorts, “Are you implying that you are posing as a Healer?
“Nicci! Manners.”
There was another derisive snort. “Diamonique, she came to our door, waving around vague threats and claiming to – “
Diamonique sighed while giving Nicci a stern look. “I said enough already. The Master’s charity begins at our door, but it should also lend itself to our mouth and thoughts. Go and check on our patients…please.”
Another flare of defiance covered Nicci’s. She half glared at Lilita before spinning on her heel and flouncing off. Diamonique shook her head and gave a soft, disapproving sigh before smiling once more.
“Please forgive Nicci’s attitude, Miss. It is in her nature to be suspicious of, well, everyone.”
Lilita's eyes dart about taking in the interior of the Black Rose... having long been very curious about what it looked like on the inside, "please, m' lady, I do hope that you can forgive my harsh words and rudeness to your companion. I sincerely apologize, it is not how I usually behave and to be honest I find speaking in such a manner most distasteful but sometimes one must do whatever is required don't you think?"
“Sometimes,” Diamonique agreed. “As to answer your question about your sigil, I would agree that yes, you might have stolen it, yet who, who would have stolen such a thing, openly suggest that it was stolen? Besides, to have the legitimate ring and to have the guild’s sigils woven into your dress as well? No, I think it is yours. Now, if you will follow me.”
Turning without a glance to see if Lilita were following the blonde glided gracefully through the closer arc and then up a flight of stairs. As she walked ahead of her Lilita was given a glimpse of the tattoo of a blue star located just behind the woman’s left knee.
“You are friends of Ser Bessari?”
Lilita takes note of the blue star tattoo but does not comment on it. Then smiles at Domonique’s question thinking that Lilita's name dropping was what apparently had gained her admittance to the Black Rose. Lilita politely responds, "no... m' lady, not really, the term 'friends' I fear does not adequately describe our... umm, association. After all, I am but a baseborn guttersnipe. Men such as Ser Bessari do not lower themselves in such a manner to a befriend one such as I, do they? The baseborn after all are just another resource, a commodity, to be used, traded, bought or sold, don't you think?"
“The Bessari name is ranked among the upper portion of the cities elite, even so, for a baseborn guttersnipe you have obvious appeal. A potential mistress, mayhap,” Diamonique said in a tone that was conversational, not derogatory. She turned down a long hallway and opened the third door on the right. “In truth, baseborn or nobleborn, we are all just a commodity to men. Young Kelban is quite a catch, I congratulate you on your relationship with him.”
Lilita continues to watch Domonique’s every gesture and movement closely, as she hangs on her every word, "why thank you m' lady but you might say I am not what one would call a devotee of Ser Bessari, after all, this evening his men attempted to bring bodily harm upon the person of my noble father. Suffice to say I did in a manner of speaking... catch him... and I marked him... but despite his impeccable pedigree I am after a far bigger fish so I had to let him go... back into the pond one might say!"
The older woman laughs. “In here.”
The room beyond the door was large and richly furnished. A solar of sorts with several doors opening into adjacent rooms. One was open, giving Lilita a view of a large, four posted bed covered in silks. Somewhere inside was an oil lamp creating a soft, reddish glow. Diamonique strolled towards the open door to the bedroom. Behind her, Lilita felt more than heard, the door to the hallway close behind her.
Lilita's eyes grew large as saucers very taken at the sight of such lavish decor and furnishings, never having seen it's like, such luxury... much more than Lilita could ever conceive of, it all even beyond her wildest dreams. The entire place was like a royal palace to one such as Lilita. Slowly she glanced back at the now closed door wondering who had closed it making her think of her father... the way he had opened and closed doors at her master's shop in a rather mysterious manner. Could this beautiful maiden be a creature like her father she thought?
Lilita's voice wavers slightly as she speaks and asks Diamonique, "is this your private chamber m' lady, are all healers in the employ of the Black Rose provided with such wondrous accommodations? But you are not just another healer, are you? You are something more... far more, I should think. Your grace and your manner are otherworldly, your beauty is perfection itself, the sort as to make men weep when they behold you. Do they weep m' lady?"
“Yes, this is my suite here in the Rose. I don’t know by which you mean, that I am sometime more. Beauty is fleeting, in the end, for all of us.” Domonique’s head turns towards her with a look, rather it was amusement, curiosity, or something else, it was impossible to tell. “Weep? For me?” There was a soft, almost sad sounding laugh. “No, probably not. Lust, yes, covet, probably, even admire…maybe, but I doubt anyone has wept for me in years.” She shakes her head. “I believe that I have something in your size,” the blonde was saying as she opened a hand carved wardrobe against one wall.
Lilita watches as she opens the wardrobe, seeing what lies inside Lilita's eyes begin to tear up at the sight of such beauty, such craftsman and skill that went into the making of such fine garments, no doubt the Fey Goddess Livvi would give much to obtain a garment or two from that wardrobe. "Please m' lady... do not go to such trouble for one such as I. I would only soil and ruin such finery were I to put it on. I do very much appreciate the thought, but I can make do with my dress as it is... it is really not as bad as it looks... I have a sewing kit at home to mend it later, in the morning when I return home."
“Nonsense, that thing is little more than rags, besides I have more than I need and many that I haven’t worn in ages. Such garments shouldn’t offend your sense of propriety or status, I hope.” As she spoke Domonique rustled through the wardrobe. “Ah, this one.” Domonique smiles and takes out a simple light blue dress made from cotton not unlike the remains of the dress Lilita wore. “I used to wear this quite a bit, before I came to live with the Master. Did you say your father was a patient of the Master’s?”
As the woman asks about her father Lilita shakes her head, "no... m' lady my father is not a patient as I explained to the Lady Nicci, he is beyond such things, I think. Why would a great old one, a noble monster such as my father have need of such? His concerns are not mortal concerns. What about you m' lady, do you have concerns... fears... needs? One such as I could not pose any threat to you, or to the Black Rose itself. In the wilds of nature, a bat has nothing to fear, except an owl perhaps and as you can plainly see I am no owl."
“This noble monster of yours, did you say that he wears a blue turban?”
Lilita nods, "yes m' lady, I did... he wears a fine blue satin turban with a precious white sapphire stone."
Gesturing for Lilita to disrobe and try on the dress Domonique frowns slightly. “Rakia Rezgui,” she says quietly. “From the Karzulun…”
Among the many things that her teachers had taught was local history so Lilita knew that the Karzulun are a nomadic people which range from the Braztook Hills to the Terad Mountains north of Tarantis. A tribal society, they had a history of raiding the outer provinces and merchant caravans, although the women and children provide the main sustenance by gathering wild roots, vegetables, and berries which are cooked into a pungent, spicy stew that could be found in many places within the city as well. A ruthless people leading a difficult existence, or so it was said. Many high-ranking males wore turbans and short, sleeveless tunics, often matched with long, flowing robes of white or brightly colored silk.
Lilita without a further word she obeys... her fingers work to unfasten the clasps to allow the remnants of her dress to fall to the floor at her feet. She then stands motionless before Domonique totally unclothed... her eyes shyly downcast.
“And you say that Master Rezgui has taken an interest in you?”
Lilita thinks for a moment before responding, "no... m' lady, not really. Perhaps in his own way but not as we mortals think of a man taking an interest in a woman. Rather more like a dog with a bone... but you are as much aware of this as I am. Whatever his interest it will be fleeting at best... I am just his latest distraction... no doubt he considers me to be something of a shiny new toy to play with, torment and abuse before callously discarding the lifeless husk that remains and then without emotion when I am used up he will then move on to the next shiny new toy that catches his eye."
Domonique’s head barely nods as she moves around Lilita, her eyes taking in the young woman’s appearance. Nor had she yet to acknowledge that she had even paid attention to the many subtle references to vampire’s and her presumed knowledge of such things. With a gentleness uncommon in Lilita’s life the woman helped her don the dress. One hand lightly touching Lilita’s silver hair Domonique says, “Master Rezgui is…known in this House, but is no longer welcome. In truth, he is not welcome within the city, not for some time, or so it has been said. He is a…perhaps outcast is too strong a word, but still fitting…”
Lilita looks into Domonique's eyes... meeting her gaze without flinching or turning away... and smiles as if she finds the older woman's choice of words amusing, "well then that is truly fitting... we share something in common between us... for I am every bit the outcast my father is!"
“Consider it a difference of opinions between my Master and yours, or a philosophy might be better, but it is not my place to explain more.”
Lilita merely shrugs, "it matters not, you have told me what I need to know, what I came to his house to discover or rather to confirm. But you are wrong... he is not my master, nor ever shall be. I name him... father because it pleases me to do so but I have yet to name him master. I find it plays well to his vanity. I seek three things from him you see... my mother's name and her final fate and I shall not rest or flee until there is a full accounting!!!"
The older woman turned to look out her second-floor window onto the street below. “It may be as you say. That you are just a new shiny toy for Master Rezgui’s pleasure, to be used or tormented as it pleases him. You can seek asylum within the temples, there safe from him but not from other predators. Or you can seek out Ser Bessari and through him, the crown’s protection though from my experiences, the palace, too, is full of pillagers of a different ilk. If you do not fear Master Rezgui than you may return home and invite him over your threshold, as you choose. Who knows, maybe you can as ague his hungers and alter his mind on such things. Nothing is truly impossible.”
Lilita laughs, it's sound rings disturbingly and eerily hollow, "seek out Ser Bessari, you are misguided to offer me, such counsel, such is useless as is all the rest of it... all ill-advised! Neither crown nor temple shall I seek out... sanctuary. But you are correct that I do not fear my father but not for reasons you think, of course, I could explain it to you in greater detail, but it is not my place to do so. I am sorry for you have proven yourself to be a most gracious host... m' lady."
She smiles and shakes her head. “The dress is a trade, dear one. I would say a gift, but I suspect that your sensibilities would reject it as unworthy. But a trade for telling me of your master’s presence in the city. Master Maigrinstaff will wish to know. As he is currently at his estate in the mountains attending business, I will inform him of such as well as your visit upon his return.” Domonique reached the door to her room only to have it open soundlessly.
Lilita reaches out and takes Domonique's hand into her own and kisses it, "our exchange of information is the only trade between us, this dress is a worthy gift which I gladly and humbly accept. So, thank you m' lady... for your generosity and your kindness."
Lilita turns almost expectantly towards the door as it silently begins to open.
As they descend the stairs for the anteroom and the exit beyond Domonique’s hand lightly brushes against Lilita’s. “Such tentative steps down a very dark and dangerous path have already exposed you to far more than you might realize, miss. For not is always what it seems and that these Mas…these beings are far more than mere mortals, and though their egos may drive them to think they are equals with the gods, they are not. Even so, there are politics as there is a hierarchy, one that is quite complicated. You expose yourself by your words and deeds to the plots and contrivances, that drama, that they so often are driven by. Some, as it has been said to you, are mere cows, to be milked and eaten at their leisure, and are seen as thus. But they are herd animals as well, subject to being raided, killed, or worse.” The woman sighed greatly. “Be assured that you have drawn one’s attention, others may follow, if for no other reason than to anger the first.”
Lilita nods and replies without emotion, "Yes, I understand, thank you for your words of warning... I would expect no less from such beings, the Strigoi have good reason to consider themselves, gods, as they are not that far removed from godhood are, they? All beings strive for the divine... to be worshipped, loved or feared, most especially the Strigoi... driven to near madness in their desire demonstrate their godhood to lesser beings as they stand at its cusp with the prize just ever so slightly out of their reach."
Lilita casually walks through the now open doorway in her new second-hand dress she turns to Domonique and pauses, "besides seeking answers... poking the nest is precisely why I came to the Black Rose... as well as to formally introduce myself. I am Lilita Lilitu and I am in fact an Owl! Tell your master, that when I have finished with my father that I will come for him... and the others."
“I will be sure to tell him.” The older woman seemed more amused than concerned about the implied threat.
As they reached the bottom of the stairs Lilita noticed Nicci standing at the top, just out of sight with a mixture of longing, hatred, and lust staring down at her. There was an animalism in that one, a hunger to dominate and command. A dangerous one if felt.
Lilita smiles up at the Nicci and calls up to her in a friendly manner, "Lady Nicci... I was hoping that I would see you again before I leave, to offer you a chance to give me a sweet sisterly kiss goodbye before I depart." Lilita strides up to a nearby wall and holds up her right hand as she summons forth the spell Touch of Radiance, her hand glowing brightly with her forefinger extended... her finger burning with divine radiant energy she draws a sigil into the wall itself!
She then looks back up at Nicci and moves up next to Domonique and kisses the older woman on the cheek and offers her own cheek for Domonique to kiss in return if she so desires... and for Nicci to come down and so the same as well if it pleases her to do so...
As Domonique returned the chaste kiss, giving Lilita a faint whiff of coconut palm, rather it is a perfume or some ointment worked into the older woman’s skin, she couldn’t be sure. Lilita also noticed that Domonique was warm to the touch, not cold, like the noble monster. Looking past the woman’s shoulders at she could see Nicci sneer, than frown. Her dark eyes glared once more than she turned and disappeared out of view. Some gut instinct or critical observation murmured to Lilita that that one very much found her to be a threat in some way and that Nicci’s threat was even more bestial, if it were possible, than her father projected. Distinctively different even if she couldn’t put a finger on it.
"Thank you again Lady Domonique for your generosity and your hospitality, it was a pleasure and honor to meet you." Lilita glances at the front door waiting for it to open so that she may depart in peace...
“And you too, dear. I feel confident that we shall meet again, soon.” The door shut quietly on its own with Lilita on the outside once more. A glance told her that the young Blackheart had left, leaving her to her own devices.
Not surprised and relieved that the young Blackheart had left tells Lilita (she hopes) he did as she asked him and returned to his Captain once she had entered the Black Rose. Lilita looks up and down the street, then turns her head to give one last glance at the Black Rose before she slowly starts to walk alone heading back home... making her way to her Vardo wagon for some much-needed sleep before she would need to report to the keeper of stocks at traitor's square the following day as she had promised the Knight Commander.
As Lilita walks along she will also check her new dress patting about for any pockets (hidden or otherwise), etc. to make sure there is nothing inside that has been accidentally or inadvertently left inside...
<><><><><><><><><><>
Mordecai's story continues...
Though getting later, Mordecai heads over to Lilita's Vardo to ask her for her opinion on the elven woman and the blood-splotched ravens. Hopefully she had managed to talk her way out of the situations with the City Guard and hadn’t ended up in the stocks or worse.
"Well, worst case, they would question her a bit - maybe have someone look at her to see why she was acting so crazy," Mordecai says talking to himself as he walked through the wards.
"And if she's angry at me - well, I told her I'd stick to the plan," Mordecai finishes with a chuckle.
As he gets closer to Lilita's Vardo, Mordecai takes a look around and slowly realizes that his current dress, although not overly ostentatious, sticks out more in the neighborhood than his old clothing.
The section that Lilita lived in was perhaps the worst in the city. Many homeless and destitute crowded the crumbling buildings or had cobbled together crude shelters in any open space that they were able to do so. So, when he arrived at the little as the sun was setting at the park like lot holding the Vardo it was easy to see just how out of place it was, compared to the night before when everything was dark and misty.
"Huh," says Mordecai, "this place is downright cheery compared to everything around it... even when not compared to everything around it."
As Mordecai gets closer, he calls out, "Err, 'Bush?' Is your mother home? Also, please don't ensnare me." He knocks on the door.
His hand had barely connected with the door for a second time when it was flung open and Lilita, dressed in a thin, too short sleeping gown flings open the door to her Vardo, upon looking at him with wonder and relief. She begins to cry and squeal with delight making a mad dash straight for him leaping up into his arms throwing her arms and legs around him tightly, kissing him again and again, as she hangs on to him!
Mordecai freezes mid-knock, all of his muscles become tense and unmoving as Lilita embraces him.
"Mordecai, you are alive... I thought I thought you were dead... that they had you killed you, had killed you both! I am sorry... I tried to tell the guards at the prepared story to get us all past, but I got all flustered and ruined it, ruined everything! I was afraid they could see it all on my face, hear it all on my lying tongue... I am sorry I failed you, I was afraid they'd catch you and kill you. All because me of me so I pretended to faint so you could find another way since I botched it all so badly!!!"
Mordecai, still tensed up, begins looking from side to side, as it slowly dawned on him where they were standing - outside, at dusk, in one of the... more interesting... neighborhoods of the city.
She goes back to kissing, tears streaming down her cheeks, tears of happiness to see him again.
Mordecai rushes into the Vardo with Lilita still hanging off him. He closes the door behind him and tries his best to pry her off him as gently as possible. He says as he awkwardly tries to create some space between them, "Okay, Miss Lilita, your concern is appreciated but, really this - reaction - is far more than I deserve. Your help the other night was thanks enough. Umm... Please... Could... You... Stop?"
Lilita slowly calms herself down and stops kissing Mordecai and releases her grip on him sliding off him to her feet. Standing before his towering figure shyly, "I am sorry to have offended you, Mordecai... I thought I would never see you again, that you were dead. I am just so happy, so excited to see that you are alive and well! My apologies..."
"Yes, again, thank you for concern. I, too, am glad that you... seem well," Mordecai replies. "I came here to seek your advice and pay you back for your help - as I promised I would despite your rebuffs against such a promise. However, I need a moment to compose myself if you don't mind - might I trouble you for a drink, I feel parched."
Lilita quickly rushes to find a mug and fill it with fresh clean water and offer it to her guest. "advice? I am not sure that I the right person to seek advice from but anything I can do to help you... you know I will. As for payment... you well know that I do not help others with expectations for compensation. You are an honorable man; you keep your word no matter the cost. I respect that and you... whatever I can do for you... you have but ask..."
Accepting the mug gratefully Mordecai settles onto the small rooms only stool and takes a deep drink before replying. “When last we spoke, I said I'd pay you back for the service and kindness shown to Hadara and I, well here it is," Mordecai says this as he presents her with his magic wand. Mordecai continues, "I had it looked at by a reputable arcanist - although I could technically use it, not so with the steady reliability of someone familiar with the arcane. It casts a sort of offensive lightning magic and I've been told it could be used 18 more times before becoming inert. It's worth about 200 gold crowns (20 platinum), so you could choose to sell it or keep it on you should the need arise."
Lilita looks at the wand surprised and more than a little stunned by the overwhelming generosity of the gift. "Mordecai, this a bit much to be giving me. I mean I didn't do anything other than almost get you both killed to deserve or much less have earned such a thing! Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the thought behind it but it's much too much! You deserve it far more than I for risking your life to save Hadara. Where or how did you come by this wand anyway? Did Hadara give it to you for getting him to his destination? An Arcanist you say... what was the name of this reputable Arcanist and where could I find him... if I had a need to consult with him?"
"Hadara? No. Hadara didn't have anything on him when I caught up to him. He spotted the wand as we were making our way through the sewers. Not sure why he didn't keep it for himself, but I'm not one to look a gifted horse in the mouth," Mordecai replies.
"Well, actually, I asked around for an arcane specialist and got pointed in his direction," Mordecai explains. "He has a shop in the Sage's Quarter... Umm... His name is Gordon Tails? Or something like that? Maybe Talis? I'm not entirely sure. If his name isn't attached to a BOLO I have little reason to remember it."
"In any case," Mordecai continues, "while your mulling over that wand, I came here to talk to you about something, actually someone, we found in the sewers. We came across an elven woman - based on how she was dressed she was either a noble or wealthy. She still had on her brooch and bracelet - both very nice bits of jewelry - so I don't think her death was a mugging gone wrong. She was deposited there. Oddest part was her wound. It was a single hole at the base of her neck, and she seemed to have been drained out. Hadara and I talked about it and our best guess was 'stirges,' but that doesn't explain how she got there. That's why I'm here - wanted to get your opinion on it."
"As far as where we found her," Mordecai continues, "given how far down the tunnel we were, and it being a cross road of sorts, I suppose we found her in the vicinity of fish monger lane near the central docks.”
Running her hands over the wand Lilita inspects it closely. "Mordecai," she puts her hands into his, "I am going, to be honest with you, there is great danger looming in this city, the Strigoi or as most call such creatures... vampires. I witnessed an encountered just last night between a group of Blackhearts and a lone Strigoi. I saw their weapons bounce off him without doing him any harm whatsoever! I suspect there are more than the one and that a treaty between two or possibly more sides has been broken and that things will only get worse. So, it might be best if you keep the wand or seek to trade it for an enchanted blade or two to protect yourself. I mean... in your line of work you are putting yourself in harm's way, sooner or later you are going to encounter one of them and I want you, I need you to be safe!"
"Vampires?" Mordecai asks aloud, a bit astonished, "I suppose that could have done that poor elven lass in. Although it's still an odd shape no? I thought vampires had fangs. This woman looked like a hole was punched into her - like a giant mosquito. Also - what's a Strigoi?"
Lilita seems confused for a moment then replies, "Strigoi... I don't how to explain but I think it's just another name for vampire, but I don't what language... this is all new to me too. All I know is the one I encountered is named Rakia Rezgui, a well-dressed nobleman who wears a blue satin turban with a white sapphire stone, he is extremely dangerous and powerful. He had a single elongated fang-like tooth, so I don't know if they normally have fangs as the legends say or if he is somehow unique or perhaps there are variations, different families, clans or factions. Maybe he killed your Elf maiden in the sewer or another of his kind did... your guess is as good as mine. But I recently had a patient, a young woman I treated with a similar single pin prick puncture, but I fell asleep and she ran off, but I could not find her. "
Mordecai arches an eyebrow as Lilita describes the battle she saw, he then says, "Well, I don't think I'd be able to cover the costs of permanently enchanting my trusty glaive here with just what the wand is worth. See, that's why I thought you should have it; I can't use it effectively and although the money would be nice, I don't think it'll be enough to get me something practical - hell, a full plate suit if armor costs more than that wand. Besides, I'm sure they landed some hits - they likely just require double the normal force to leave an impact on these beasts."
Thank again for having my safety in mind," Mordecai says with earnest, "but you really don't have to."
Getting up and walking over to the small desk in the Vardo Lilita takes a pen and parchment and begins to draw the owl sigil then hands the parchment to Mordecai, "but you can repay me by being on the lookout for anything, any items or such inscribed with that sigil... ask your arcanist, etc. and let me know if you encounter anything at all or hear any rumors of such a sigil or about owls and also anything about blue star tattoos. I drew the owl sigil last night at the Black Rose but not sure why and told the matron who had a blue star tattoo there I was an owl whatever that means but something deep inside me wants to get out and I think it is all related to my mother somehow. I think there are things out there that used to belong to her, and I need to find them to defend against what is coming."
Mordecai accepts the drawing and says," Sure, I could ask around." He then secures the parchment and puts it away in his pack.
Lilita runs her fingers through her silver-hair unsure of herself, "maybe I am just crazy... going mad... imagining things and the sigil means nothing... but since that Strigoi got inside my head, it's almost like something has come loose. I don't even know how to describe it. Maybe it is the creature warping my mind and my dreams or perhaps it is something waking up..."
"Well, that sounds unpleasant. Not sure I'd want anyone fooling around in my head," Mordecai replies.
Lilita started to pace about nervously, "maybe the fey goddess knows more, I need to take you to her to meet her right away. I know where she lives if you can spare the time to accompany me. She is a courtesan I think but she saved me with powerful magic, and she seemed to know what he was before I did. My powers come from within naturally with some training from the healer’s guild but hers... she is fey but I am certain that she is one trained in the arcane arts. I owe a rather large debt to her for saving my life last night. If you are certain that that you do not wish your magical wand perhaps you will consider accepting this in trade?"
Lilita removes her pendant, a Periapt of Wound Closure and holds it out to Mordecai and explains its function to him. "I owe Livvi and my noble gentleman, Rakia Rezgui seeks to make her his next victim, she is in great danger, your wand in her hands could very well save her life just as this pendant could one day save your life if you would accept it in trade. Besides I fear that if I tried to use the wand, not really trained that I would only injure myself or Rakia Rezgui with his powers to control me would just take it away from me."
Mordecai, after some thought, responds, "I'm assuming when you say 'fey goddess' you simply mean she's attractive - not an actual god. My theory on gods is that they tend not to live among us. And regarding the wand - I have literally seen you cast spells, and given how this wand works, as described to me, the wand will simply implicitly work for you, despite your lack of confidence on the matter. If you want the wand you can have it, but I'd feel better if YOU kept it - you seem even keeled, although a bit self-depreciating, but you'd be responsible enough not to use it frivolously... I'm not sure I'd extend a 'fey goddess courtesan' the same courtesy."
Mordecai pushes Lilita's hands with the pendant back, not accepting it. He comments, "If you are being haunted by some vampire, I suspect that this periapt should best stay around your neck."
Lilita takes Mordecai's hand into her own, "there is another too, a young woman named Nicci at the Black Rose, I think she is a vampire but not aligned with my noble gentleman. If legends are true then they will not be out and about in the daylight, can you come with me now to see if we can find Livvi at home to speak to her? Besides the Blackheart Knight... Captain Kelban Bessari might still be about and I imagine he will be rather cross with me as I promised to turn myself into the person in charge of the stocks at traitor’s square but I can do that after we speak to Livvi or to the captain himself if we should encounter him and you find your way to speak Livvi on your own if need be and tell her I sent you... if we do encounter the captain."
"Why on earth would you turn yourself in to the stocks? To be locked up? I doubt you're up to committing any sort of crime that would require such humiliation. No - you will do no such thing," Mordecai immediately responds a bit sternly.
"If you feel compelled to warn this Livvi person of the danger there in, I will accompany you in doing so. Now, dusk is among us, so these creatures may be out soon - it's best you should prepare and... dress appropriately," Mordecai states.
He then shoves the wand in her hand and says, "As you said, there's danger about, best you keep this as you can innately access its powers. And I wouldn't give it to anyone else - it seems that you could use the additional protection."
Mordecai bows slightly before saying, "I'll wait for you outside as you prepare. Please be quick about it - any head start we can take ahead of these vampires would be good to take advantage of."
Mordecai turns around lets himself outside, shuts the door behind him and waits.
Lilita quickly changes her clothes and gathers her things together locking up the vardo then takes Mordecai tenderly by the hand as the pair head to pay a visit to the fey goddess Livvi...
<><><><><><><><>
Lilita's story continues...
Having slept a goodly portion of the day away out of shear exhaustion, Lilita is woken by Tulip’s rustling branches. The plant sat nestled in its favorite pot but was agitating its limbs towards the door where she heard:
Mordecai’s voice calls out, "Err, 'Bush?' Is your mother home? Also, please don't ensnare me." He knocks on the door.
Lilita upon hearing and recognizing Mordecai's distinctive voice she jumps out of her bed and flings open the door to her Vardo, upon looking at him alive and well! She begins to cry and squeal with delight making a mad dash straight for him leaping up into his arms throwing her arms and legs around him tightly, kissing him again and again, as she hangs on to him!
Mordecai freezes mid-knock, all of his muscles become tense and unmoving as Lilita embraces him.
"Mordecai, you are alive... I thought I thought you were dead... that they had you killed you, had killed you both! I am sorry... I tried to tell the guards at the prepared story to get us all past, but I got all flustered and ruined it, ruined everything! I was afraid they could see it all on my face, hear it all on my lying tongue... I am sorry I failed you, I was afraid they'd catch you and kill you. All because me of me so I pretended to faint so you could find another way since I botched it all so badly!!!"
Mordecai, still tensed up, begins looking from side to side, as it slowly dawned on him where they were standing - outside, at dusk, in one of the... more interesting... neighborhoods of the city.
She goes back to kissing, tears streaming down her cheeks, tears of happiness to see him again...
Mordecai rushes into the Vardo with Lilita still hanging off him. He closes the door behind him and tries his best to pry her off him as gently as possible. He says as he awkwardly tries to create some space between them, "Okay, Miss Lilita, your concern is appreciated but, really this - reaction - is far more than I deserve. Your help the other night was thanks enough. Umm... Please... Could... You... Stop?"
Lilita slowly calms herself down and stops kissing Mordecai and releases her grip on him sliding off him to her feet. Standing before his towering figure shyly, "I am sorry to have offended you, Mordecai... I thought I would never see you again, that you were dead. I am just so happy, so excited to see that you are alive and well! My apologies..."
"Yes, again, thank you for concern. I, too, am glad that you... seem well," Mordecai replies. "I came here to seek your advice and pay you back for your help - as I promised I would despite your rebuffs against such a promise. However, I need a moment to compose myself if you don't mind - might I trouble you for a drink, I feel parched."
Lilita quickly rushes to find a mug and fill it with fresh clean water and offer it to her guest. "advice? I am not sure that I the right person to seek advice from but anything I can do to help you... you know I will. As for payment... you well know that I do not help others with expectations for compensation. You are an honorable man; you keep your word no matter the cost. I respect that and you... whatever I can do for you... you have but ask..."
Accepting the mug gratefully Mordecai settles onto the small rooms only stool and takes a deep drink before replying. “When last we spoke, I said I'd pay you back for the service and kindness shown to Hadara and I, well here it is," Mordecai says this as he presents her a wand. Than continues, "I had it looked at by a reputable arcanist - although I could technically use it, not so with the steady reliability of someone familiar with the arcane. It casts a sort of offensive lightning magic and I've been told it could be used 18 more times before becoming inert. It's worth about 200 gold crowns (20 platinum), so you could choose to sell it or keep it on you should the need arise."
Lilita looks at the wand surprised and more than a little stunned by the overwhelming generosity of the gift. "Mordecai, this a bit much to be giving me. I mean I didn't do anything other than almost get you both killed to deserve or much less have earned such a thing! Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the thought behind it but it's much too much! You deserve it far more than I for risking your life to save Hadara. Where or how did you come by this wand anyway? Did Hadara give it to you for getting him to his destination? An Arcanist you say... what was the name of this reputable Arcanist and where could I find him... if I had a need to consult with him?"
"Hadara? No. Hadara didn't have anything on him when I caught up to him. He spotted the wand as we were making our way through the sewers. Not sure why he didn't keep it for himself, but I'm not one to look a gifted horse in the mouth," Mordecai replies.
"Well, actually, I asked around for an arcane specialist and got pointed in his direction," Mordecai explains. "He has a shop in the Sage's Quarter... Umm... His name is Gordon Tails? Or something like that? Maybe Talis? I'm not entirely sure. If his name isn't attached to a BOLO I have little reason to remember it."
"In any case," Mordecai continues, "while your mulling over that wand, I came here to talk to you about something, actually someone, we found in the sewers. We came across an elven woman - based on how she was dressed she was either a noble or wealthy. She still had on her brooch and bracelet - both very nice bits of jewelry - so I don't think her death was a mugging gone wrong. She was deposited there. Oddest part was her wound. It was a single hole at the base of her neck, and she seemed to have been drained out. Hadara and I talked about it and our best guess was 'stirges,' but that doesn't explain how she got there. That's why I'm here - wanted to get your opinion on it."
"As far as where we found her," Mordecai continues, "given how far down the tunnel we were, and it being a cross road of sorts, I suppose we found her in the vicinity of fish monger lane near the central docks.”
Running her hands over the wand Lilita inspects it closely looking for the owl sigil she drew on the wall of the Black Rose. "Mordecai," she puts her hands into his, "I am going, to be honest with you, there is great danger looming in this city, the Strigoi or as most call such creatures... vampires. I witnessed an encountered just last night between a group of Blackhearts and a lone Strigoi. I saw their weapons bounce off him without doing him any harm what-so-ever! I suspect there are more than the one and that a treaty between two or possibly more sides has been broken and that things will only get worse. So, it might be best if you keep the wand or seek to trade it for an enchanted blade or two to protect yourself. I mean... in your line of work you are putting yourself in harm's way, sooner or later you are going to encounter one of them and I want you, I need you to be safe!"
"Vampires?" Mordecai asks aloud, a bit astonished, "I suppose that could have done that poor elven lass in. Although it's still an odd shape no? I thought vampires had fangs. This woman looked like a hole was punched into her - like a giant mosquito. Also - what's a Strigoi?"
Lilita seems confused for a moment then replies, "Strigoi... I don't how to explain but I think it's just another name for vampire, but I don't what language... this is all new to me too. All I know is the one I encountered is named Rakia Rezgui, a well-dressed nobleman who wears a blue satin turban with a white sapphire stone, he is extremely dangerous and powerful. He had a single elongated fang-like tooth, so I don't know if they normally have fangs as the legends say or if he is somehow unique or perhaps there are variations, different families, clans or factions. Maybe he killed your Elf maiden in the sewer or another of his kind did... your guess is as good as mine. But I recently had a patient, a young woman I treated with a similar single pin prick puncture, but I fell asleep and she ran off, but I could not find her. "
Mordecai arches an eyebrow as Lilita describes the battle she saw, he then says, "Well, I don't think I'd be able to cover the costs of permanently enchanting my trusty glaive here with just what the wand is worth. See, that's why I thought you should have it; I can't use it effectively and although the money would be nice, I don't think it'll be enough to get me something practical - hell, a full plate suit if armor costs more than that wand. Besides, I'm sure they landed some hits - they likely just require double the normal force to leave an impact on these beasts."
"Thank again for having my safety in mind," Mordecai says with earnest, "but you really don't have to."
Getting up and walking over to the small desk in the Vardo Lilita takes a pen and parchment and begins to draw the owl sigil then hands the parchment to Mordecai, "but you can repay me by being on the lookout for anything, any items or such inscribed with that sigil... ask your arcanist, etc. and let me know if you encounter anything at all or hear any rumors of such a sigil or about owls and also anything about blue star tattoos. I drew the owl sigil last night at the Black Rose but not sure why and told the matron who had a blue star tattoo there I was an owl whatever that means but something deep inside me wants to get out and I think it is all related to my mother somehow. I think there are things out there that used to belong to her, and I need to find them to defend against what is coming."
Mordecai accepts the drawing and says," Sure, I could ask around." He then secures the parchment and puts it away in his pack.
Lilita runs her fingers through her silver-hair unsure of herself, "maybe I am just crazy... going mad... imagining things and the sigil means nothing... but since that Strigoi got inside my head, it's almost like something has come loose. I don't even know how to describe it. Maybe it is the creature warping my mind and my dreams or perhaps it is something waking up..."
"Well, that sounds unpleasant. Not sure I'd want anyone fooling around in my head," Mordecai replies.
Lilita started to pace about nervously, "maybe the fey goddess knows more, I need to take you to her to meet her right away. I know where she lives if you can spare the time to accompany me. She is a courtesan I think but she saved me with powerful magic, and she seemed to know what he was before I did. My powers come from within naturally with some training from the healer’s guild but hers... she is fey, but I am certain that she is one trained in the arcane arts. I owe a rather large debt to her for saving my life last night. If you are certain that that you do not wish your magical wand perhaps you will consider accepting this in trade?"
Lilita removes her pendant, a Periapt of Wound Closure and holds it out to Mordecai and explains its function to him. "I owe Livvi and my noble gentleman, Rakia Rezgui seeks to make her his next victim, she is in great danger, your wand in her hands could very well save her life just as this pendant could one day save your life if you would accept it in trade. Besides I fear that if I tried to use the wand, not really trained that I would only injure myself or Rakia Rezgui with his powers to control me would just take it away from me."
Mordecai, after some thought, responds, "I'm assuming when you say 'fey goddess' you simply mean she's attractive - not an actual god. My theory on gods is that they tend not to live among us. And regarding the wand - I have literally seen you cast spells, and given how this wand works, as described to me, the wand will simply implicitly work for you, despite your lack of confidence on the matter. If you want the wand you can have it, but I'd feel better if YOU kept it - you seem even keeled, although a bit self-depreciating, but you'd be responsible enough not to use it frivolously... I'm not sure I'd extend a 'fey goddess courtesan' the same courtesy."
Mordecai pushes Lilita's hands with the pendant back, not accepting it. He comments, "If you are being haunted by some vampire, I suspect that this periapt should best stay around your neck."
Lilita takes Mordecai's hand into her own, "there is another too, a young woman named Nicci at the Black Rose, I think she is a vampire but not aligned with my noble gentleman. If legends are true then they will not be out and about in the daylight, can you come with me now to see if we can find Livvi at home to speak to her? Besides the Blackheart Knight... Captain Kelban Bessari might still be about and I imagine he will be rather cross with me as I promised to turn myself into the person in charge of the stocks at traitor’s square but I can do that after we speak to Livvi or to the captain himself if we should encounter him and you find your way to speak Livvi on your own if need be and tell her I sent you... if we do encounter the captain."
"Why on earth would you turn yourself in to the stocks? To be locked up? I doubt you're up to committing any sort of crime that would require such humiliation. No - you will do no such thing," Mordecai immediately responds a bit sternly.
"If you feel compelled to warn this Livvi person of the danger there in, I will accompany you in doing so. Now, dusk is among us, so these creatures may be out soon - it's best you should prepare and... dress appropriately," Mordecai states.
He then shoves the wand in her hand and says, "As you said, there's danger about, best you keep this as you can innately access its powers. And I wouldn't give it to anyone else - it seems that you could use the additional protection."
Mordecai bows slightly before saying, "I'll wait for you outside as you prepare. Please be quick about it - any head start we can take ahead of these vampires would be good to take advantage of."
Mordecai turns around lets himself outside, shuts the door behind him and waits.
Lilita quickly changes her clothes and gathers her things together locking up the vardo then takes Mordecai tenderly by the hand as the pair head to pay a visit to the fey goddess Livvi...
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Livvi's story continues...
The next morning Livvi looked a bit green about the gills. Literally. After getting back to her rooms in the Inn, it was all she could do to do a quick wipe-down of the body paint and throw on an old nightgown before falling into bed and snoring the night away. So, being a bit hung-over, she merely splashed some water on her face before hurriedly dressing and heading to the Sub-Minister's office to collect her daily batch of announcements. Luckily there was a thick haze over the city this morning, cutting the sun's harsh rays and sparing her from the skull-splitting headache threatening to crash down around her.
As was becoming her custom before leaving the Sub-ministry offices to take her messages to the masses, Livvi glances through the parchments and proclamations. Finding nothing about vampires or Sanguisuge, she considers making up an announcement of her own to warn the population, but quickly decides against it knowing the panic and chaos that would surely ensue. No, it was better for now that the thronging masses of witless fools just continue going about their daily lives.
There was, however, an announcement that a member of the baker’s guild had been found guilty of treason against the state and for working as an agent for the City State of the Overlord and was to be executed publicly in the city arena at noon. One Garse the Gaffer had been apprehended after moonfest (midnight) by members of the Blackheart’s and Blue Cobras.
"Hey, Quig!" Livvi calls out. "What's the backstory to this baker execution? Why's he getting axed?"
Quig grimaces than sits back looking a bit hung over. “Yea’, was somethin’ I hear tell. This Garse used some sort o’ nasty smelling stuff in an attempt to distract the Blackhearts then put up a fight. Threw two of The Lion’s men-at-arms out a second-floor window. The floob I talked to when I ate breakfast said that the notorious “Dark Shadow” or someone led more of the Blackhearts, including Ser Bessari, on a wild chase, too.”
"Dark Shadow?" she wonders to herself..."That man who popped up on the roof, drew the attention of the Blackheart's to the vampire, and then disappeared over the rooftops? I thought he was a scout for them - maybe he used the situation as a diversion to make his escape? Hmmm - quick thinking and helping a poor girl out. I think I have to meet this "Dark Shadow."
Livvi’s extensive education in the who’s who of the city, especially it’s noble lines, reminded her that Count Bessari held a sizable piece of one of the provinces and Kelban Bessari, a knight and captain in the Blackheart’s, was the count’s third son, single and headstrong. She wonders if perhaps this was the knight she encountered last night with Lilita, and if so, she laughs out loud wondering how many young, eligible, noble men she was going to bring into the Grey Lady's path..****y to be dismissed by the girl without so much as a chance to get to know them. Well, fate is a fickle *****, she thinks and laughs aloud again...
She nearly made it to the door when Quig called out, “That Garse bloke’s headin’ for the ax in tha’ arena ‘bout two this afternoon. It’s not in the official announcements, but I got word from tha Chief Adviser’s office to let all the criers know about it.”
<>
"Nephi, my dear, my head is splitting this morning! Can you get me an apple-pomegranate juice and some willow bark? And then I need to talk to you." She hands the girl two silver coins, enough to cover the drink and medicinal, and leave enough over for a very nice tip. She sits in a corner table, rests her head against the wall, and closes her eyes while she waits...
Sympathy leapt into the green-haired woman’s eyes. “I’ll see what I can do, Livvi,” she said before heading for the bar. A moment later Nephele paused to exchange greetings with Bilina as she came in. The raven-haired Blue Cobra laughed and touched the server on the shoulder before coming on the rest of the way with a lilt in her gait.
“A fine morningfest Livvi,” she said as she flopped onto the seat beside the Half-Elf, started to say something than took in Livvi’s condition. “Goddess girl, you look…peaked.”
"Yeah, well YOU try fighting off a vampire and visiting the Topless Tavern all in one night. Oh, and let's not forget the Blackhearts...and a dark rogue skulking about the roofs at night leading said Blackhearts to said vampire before disappearing into the dark. And nearly being carried off by a lascivious Dwarf by the name Mardiat 'Stonestaff.’" She holds up the dwarf's now-empty money pouch and finishes with, "At least his distraction paid for the rum last night. Maybe too much...but enough about me," she says with a practiced eye roll, "what did you do for fun last night?"
Bilina nearly giggled and shrugged. “Oh, this or that, you know…had to make sure that he lived up to his reputation you know.” As the agent spoke, she teasingly drew a finger from palm to elbow, pantomiming measuring something.
"But seriously, remember that blue-turbaned man we saw in Avgrat's clothier? Then one I chased after because I thought he was going to hurt that poor girl? Well, he got to her last night, and somehow ended up on the roof of the building outside my window. He had her stripped down to her waist and was about to devour her when I managed to stop him. He was a vampire, Lina. I know it. This needs to get to the guards and the Lion. He must be put down before he hurts any other girls!"
An uncomfortable look came over the other woman’s face at the mention of vampires. Bilina’s lips pursed even as her eyes narrowed and glanced off at something only she could see. After a moment her eyes made contact with Livvi’s and she sighed. “Are you sure? Maybe it was some nutter pretending to be a vampire. You might be surprised how often we hear reports of ‘vampires’ and other foul creatures. Citizens are always seeing things they don’t fully understand or are just as often as not some trickster’s disguise or some magical illusion meant to stir up trouble. I wouldn’t take it too seriously.”
Livvi shakes her head - then stops and puts a hand to her now splitting and spinning head. "I know what I saw! That man from Avgrats, the one in the blue turban with the expensive gem can obviously charm women, even one with elven blood, and not just in a normal manner. There is magic at work in this, like a cobra hypnotizing its victim before it strikes. He can disappear in the blink of an eye. His reflection cannot be seen in a mirror. He was about to bite the exposed neck of Lilita. the Grey Lady I told you about. He deflected a full volley of crossbows from the Blackhearts - you know they hit what they are shooting at. And I saw him turn into a giant bat and fly off into the night sky. You have to admit he fits the description of a vampire perfectly!"
“Mmm, something like that.” Bilina flipped through the contents of Livvi’s scroll case, pausing to study one than raising an eyebrow. “Guess the city work’s floobs are going to crack down on unnecessary waste in the city streets,” she said, re-reading the parchment. “I didn’t know that The Lion declared it a finable offense to empty chamber pots in the gutters. Wonder how they’ll get rid of the wastes then.”
Livvi sighed. The sewers ran throughout the city, and most houses had areas inside or directly outside where waste could be deposited directly into them, rather than in the streets where it would sit and fester unless a heavy rain came through. She tried to change the subject to something more interesting. "So, what's all this about an execution of some baker today? Someone trying to give the floobs a spectacle as we draw closer to the Festival?"
“Garse tried to save his hide, not that the Lion’s Justice was hearing any of it,” Bilina said, “Said some floob approached a friend of his, who then tricked him into helping them put some ground glass into a couple of pies destined for the high table at a royal feast scheduled for next week. Say’s this friend is a heavily tattooed Dwarf…”
Nephele returned, setting down Livvi’s order with a smile. "Oh, Nephi, you are my savior!" Livvi takes a long sip of the juice, then settles back to chew on the strip of willow bark. As she relaxes again, images from last night pass through her mind's eye again, until she bolts upright and looks at Bilina. "A heavily tattooed Dwarf, you say? Mardiat had huge tattoo sleeves covering both of his arms. They were vulgar things, depicting graphic scenes involving Centaurs and Elven maids. I don't know how many Dwarves there are in the city - I've seen two now in the past five-day, nor how many of them are heavily tattooed, but this Mardiat fellow fits both descriptions. Maybe later this afternoon we should go look for him."
Still looking distant Bilina gave a short shake, as if warding off a chill, and then smiled. “At the Topless Tavern you say? Please tell me you’re not moonlighting there as a barmaid?”
"Nothing like that, I assure you. I was meeting an old...acquaintance...and he recommended we meet there. He's a bit of a rapscallion and probably thought he'd get a look at me half-naked, but I was trained in the theatrical arts and so painted my torso to look like a mermaid. Although I wasn't actually wearing a top, my private areas were made to look like something else. Still, I have no desire to repeat a visit to that establishment. There is a time and a place to be bare-chested, but very few come to mind when I want to do it in front of a crowd of drunken scoundrels and rogues!" Livvi blushed a bit thinking on her brazen actions the night before.
“Well, I suppose every lead needs to be run down,” Bilina said. “If this is the Dwarf Garse has been screaming about, then we’ll need to track him down and try and find out how the two are connected. The interrogators said that the baker’s assistant repeatedly said that the Dwarf in question was to provide the masks for the party – we assume he meant the same Masquerade that the pies were to be delivered too.”
To Livvi’s trained eye her friend seemed to know more than she was letting on. Both about vampires (or at least one, anyway) roving the cities night and what was going on with this conspiracy to assassinate somebody or somebodies at Altar the Lion’s ball. The Blue Cobra sipped slowly at the iced tea Nephele had brought her. "I know that look, Lina. You're holding something back. Well, haven't I proven to you that I am good at finding things out? That I can get information and leads? And that I am reliable to bring them to you? Spill it..."
Bilina met her gaze evenly. “Trust me, Livvi. The official stance is that there are no vampires in this city…ever. The current king’s council won’t suffer any, and I quote, ‘blood sucker nonsense’. Unofficially, I don’t know,” she admitted, perhaps a bit too glibly for Bilina, who always knew exactly what she said and how she said it to have the precise effect that Bilina desired. No - a seemingly casual comment was, in fact, a well-placed pause to achieve a desired outcome. Livvi wondered if Bilina was trying to brush her off, or protect her from the deep, dark secrets the city of Tarantis harbored.
“Anyway, I need to go. If you see that Dwarf again, let me know.” Smiling she got up and headed for the front door, passing Nephele as the server came over to the table to pick up the empties.
The half-elf maid watches her mysterious friend leave, sipping the rest of her juice and finishing the pastry in front of her. Livvi grabs her announcement tube and takes the willow bark with her as she sets out to give the announcements for the day. At least her head was no longer filled with pounding hammers - the juice and bark finally acting to counter the effects of the booze from last night...
“I kinda envy you and your friend,” Nephele said as she returned to check on Livvi and to pick up any empties. “All the adventures and excitement, anyway… I’ll bet you’ve been invited to half the parties and masquerades planned for next week.
The green haired girl tittered and blushed slightly. “Oh, you. Weeelll, yes, I have been invited to a couple private parties and I’m planning on attending one or two of the street parties, too. In fact, after work this evening I’m going to Karstarman’s to pick out a mask. Perhaps not as posh as the one your getting, I’m sure, but something mysterious.”
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Boo’s story begins…
The evening was just beginning. There was the Darkan’s Cotillion invitation, another beautifully written invitation for a private dinner party at Arman Flander a few hours before moonfest (midnight). Sub-minister for Internal Communications, Flander’s was a thin, wealthy bureaucrat in The Lion’s government. He over saw the city criers, bell ringers, what passed for a public information service – dis-service depending on who you asked. Self-important, lecherous, devious floob, Arman was one of Vizzini’s cronies, one who literally drooled all over himself whenever she was present. Other parties and balls were in the offing as the Silver Festival was fast approaching (starts in three days and lasts a week which is 5 days in length). A five-day filled with private and public rivalry, celebrating some great event over a thousand a years ago, so long ago in fact, few remember the event being celebrating. A week of exotic parties, elaborate gowns and masks, a license for even the poorest in the city to loosen their belts and enjoy life.
Boo looks at the private dinner party invitation from Arman with mild amusement as she thinks back on past parties with his ogling stares and roaming hands. If anything, he is persistent so it would a shame to disappoint the poor dear. Boo decides it is probably best to accept the invitation just to keep on his good side. As for the rest of the upcoming events, Boo as usual plans to attend as many as possible noting that her social calendar seems to be filling up quite nicely!
The Chamberlin was in the manor’s den going over the week’s expenses. Short, scrawny, overly perfumed man who regularly shaved his head to disguise the fact he would have been mostly bald anyway. Terkan Vizzini was the families oldest living retainer, having been inherited from the former disgraced noble whose title had been granted to Boo’s father. There had been a lot of talk, she had come to understand, about how the former noble family had earned the ire of Dejak the Lion, the current high lord and king’s father. There was a big scandal, and an assassination attempt, one that her father had been able to tip off Dejak’s Head Adviser, allowing the cities secret police – the Blue Cobra’s – to intervene in time. As a reward, and, she’d heard rumored, as an abject lesson to the rest of the nobility, her father had been ennobled.
“…179 gold crowns for a new gown? Now Bossandie, really? You have a score of them already,” groused Vizzini. “And this?” He shuffled through a stack of receipts until he found one from the cities most prestigious mask maker. “227 gold crowns for a custom mask? What would your father say?”
Boo gives Vizzini a pouty face as she innocently bites her lip, "Dominar," she whines, "I have already worn all of those gowns publicly, and you very well know that if I show up in previously worn apparel at a society event that tongues will wag! I am only thinking of you my sweet, your reputation among your peers would surely diminish as a result. You wouldn't want to me send off to represent you, your interests, the house in used rags, would you? Besides I thought you enjoyed showing me off as a trophy, seeing me dressed in the finest, most revealing gowns, the envy of all the other ladies in attendance. And as for my father, I am sure he would consider the money very well spent given the importance of maintaining the family's social standing and royal connections."
The sensual young Tiefling moves in closer to Vizzini reaching out to lightly caress his chin before slowly pressing her soft lips ever so lightly against his cheek teasing him, "how about later, I give you a preview of the new gown and mask, you know, try it on just for you alone," she whispers seductively in his ear, "I know you enjoy watching me like that don't you and besides the gown I have other garments, new unmentionables that I am positive you will find most pleasing to your very discerning eye. As long as you remember the rule, no touching!"
Vizzini sighed even as she felt his eyes roaming over her as she stepped lightly towards the window overlooking Ivory street. At a second glance Boo saw a familiar looking halfling female loitering near the gated entrance to the Vandercrowns townhouse across the street. Elina Perky, if that was her true name, had been her go-between for the mysterious customer with the magically locked bag of holding.
He was about to respond when she turns back to giving him a polite respectful curtsy, "well, I know how busy you are, so with your permission, I will withdraw and leave you to your work." Without delay, Boo exits the study closing the doors behind her then locates one of the housemaids and sends her out to fetch the Halfling girl telling the maid, "her name is Elina Perky, please go outside and escort the poor dear inside using the rear servant's entrance and provide her with something to eat in the kitchen and let her know I will be with her shortly."
A little later Boo makes her way to the kitchen to collect Elina and takes her to her the antechamber to her bedroom for a little privacy, "if you please, my dear, next time go around to the servant's entrance and announce yourself and one of the servants will then inform me of your arrival otherwise loitering like that you risk one of the neighbors setting the watch on you or worse and no one wants that do they? Now on to business, I take it you have message or request for me?"
Finishing off one of the spicy sweet muffins that the manor’s cook was famed for Elina turned and flashed a playful, teasing smile up at Boo. “But Boo, how can I admire all the pretty things in the neighborhood if I’m walking down the quarter’s alleys? After all, isn’t that the whole point of all this ostentatious display but to tease and toy, hmm?”
“Every inch of you is a dreamy tease, Boo,” the curvaceous Halfling’s tongue curled up slightly as she grinned and openly ogled Boo before giving a deep, theatrical sigh. “My mistress speaks very highly of you and the services you provide, you know. Very highly. I think she would like to get to know you better, but she sighs and says that it might put you in danger and lessen your courier status. “
Boo smiles and shrugs, "suit yourself, my dear I understand your desire to have a good look about, take in and admire the scenery but you should really see it all from above, it is all the more breathtaking." The Tiefling studies the Halfling closely, she likes this one but then Boo has a weakness for the cheeky ones, they are always much more fun.
"Oh, thank you for the compliment, I take it that you don't think my beauty is too ostentatious then? Sometimes it is more a curse than a blessing, but I cannot complain. You are quite fetching yourself, my dear, I think we share common interests to explore further when time is not an issue. But please do give your mistress my sincere thanks for her kindness and her concern for my safety and wellbeing."
A titter ripples through Elina as she tugs the familiar pouch that was larger on the inside than the outside and spun it in a circle than caught it deftly again. “Are you ready for festival week? I’ve been invited to several parties and one masquerade so far but they’ll be pretty pedestrian I’ll bet, compared to those parties you nob’s are planning. Why, I hear that the Maigrinstaff’s are throwing one this year? It’s a rare thing, you know. For one of the top families in Tarantis, the Maigrinstaff’s are not known for their social status climbing.”
Boo giggles, "yes, this my favorite time of year, so many parties, so little time." The Tiefling smiles at the Halfing, "hold that thought and stay right there, I shall just be a moment," she says as she heads into her bedroom, to her wardrobe to locate an old masquerade gown, and mask putting them into a pillowcase and returns to Elina, "here you go, my dear, it is used I fear but still in excellent condition. It is an old one that I wore when I but a young girl, not a perfect fit but a clever one such as yourself surely knows someone who can do wonders with it, a few snips, some alterations and you will wow them all at your masquerade. My gift to you, we girls need to stick together after all."
Even as she took the pillowcase there was a calculating look in the Halfling’s eye, searching for hidden costs or meanings in the casual seeming gift. Half a moment later there was an almost imperceptible shrug and the smile returned. Elina looked at Boo with sincere admiration.
“Thank you, Boo. It wasn’t necessary but it is very much appreciated.”
Sitting back down Boo adds, "just remember that even the poorest pedestrian gathering can sometimes rival if not exceed the fun and excitement of the most elaborate and expensive of nob affairs. I have been known to slum it from to time, so I know. If you manage to get the gown all sorted then come back and see me and we will discuss my taking you with me to one my nob masquerade events and you can take me to yours so that we can compare together, shall we? As for the Maigrinstaff gathering, I don't if I have gotten an invite from them, so I will have to look into that, who knows."
“I’ll bet you’ll get invited,” the Halfling said, staring dreamy eyed at Boo for a moment. “You are sooo exotic and beautiful.” The slender, diminutive woman was idly toying with the magical lock on the bag. “Besides isn’t that the biggest fun of all? The masquerades? Everyone in disguise, well, mostly anyway,” she tittered again.
Boo shrugs, "perhaps, we shall see."
“Oh, yea…here” Elina hands over the pouch and for a moment her cultured and mannered voice picks up some street common, “Ta’ mistress wants tha’ bag to go to Lep Stax, da owner o’ the Eight Star? Best be keepin’ it under wraps til ya can hand it over out o’ view of his clients.”
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. The owner, one Lep Stax was rumored to be well connected with the local underworld, some rumors even suggesting that he headed the powerful Night Stalker’s thief’s 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.
Boo accepts the pouch from Elina and slips it inside her pack and escorts the Halfling with her gift downstairs. On the way, she asks Elina, "if you could do me a small kindness, please be on the lookout for a weaponsmith able to forge a flexible metallic whip capable of conducting an electrical charge from say, a cantrip. If you should discover someone with the necessary skills, then please do let me know. It would be much appreciated." Boo then takes out a servant's token resembling a metal coin engraved with her family's coat of arms, "take this and keep it on your person when you visit this neighborhood and if the watch or anyone gives you any problems show them the token and tell them from time to time that you do odd jobs and run errands for me and they should leave you alone or bring you to me for verification. Keep in mind that it won't do you any good anywhere else outside this neighborhood."
“Oh, that’s easy, especially sense you have the coin,” Elina said, waving one hand dismissively. “You want Captain Hawker. He’s a retired foot captain from the Blackhearts and is reputed to be the best weapons smith in the city. Hawker’s Weapons is the name of his place. He also specialized in restoration and repair of both master work and magical weapons. It’s said that the Captain pays hedge wizards to assist in the creation of new magical works of art or providing enhancing services for existing weapons.”
Once Elina has exited through the servant's entrance then Boo will return to her bedroom to change into suitable attire that won't stand out too much in an establishment like the Eight Star. Boo then when ready will walk out on to her bedroom's balcony and take flight into the night.
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Jacob's story continues...
It was some hours after moonfest (3am) when Bilina slipped out of the room, leaving Holden lounging on the mussed bed. She had demonstrated just how limber and flexible she could be, and inventive. She had also been insatiable, matching him at every step. During the time they spent together he had discovered that her body held numerous scars and old wounds. From the patterns of several, they had to have been from some sort of magic. She also had a small, blue star tattooed to her left cheek, one only revealed when Bilina had slid off her black leather breeches and the vivid green satin undergarment she wore beneath. From the intricate detail of the tattoo it was easy to imagine that it was the mark of some guild or organization.
Jacob, muscular arms still crossed behind his neck, was left staring dreamily at a male spider being eaten by its female counterpart in a dirty net hanging from the ceiling. He couldn't help and ponder if this now was also going to be his destiny. Somewhere he was wondering on how snakes went about this with their partners, specifically the Cobra. His body—albeit athletic, lean and well capable of keeping the pace with Bilinas' surprising bursts of lustful hunger—held no amount anywhere close to hers regarding hidden secrets. When they were inevitably comparing scars and tattoos, the most he could come up with was an old back injury from falling through a glass pane, and a foolish reminder of a long-lost flame inked on his left pectoral. Love forever, Jenivere. "And then she went on pretending to be Jenivere..." He said closing his eyes, to no one listening.
When Holden finally recovered from his fugue state, he did it with a lurch and the rattling of chains. Bilina had left him there, tied up after the last of their little deaths. "Of course."
Jacob had to do some rather indecorous gymnastics with the only free limbs available in order to get a lock-pick from his thieving tools from inside his leathers, first inside his mouth, then contorting some more, fitting it into the keyhole of the manacles. 18 [+3 dex bonus and +2 proficiency to lock-pick, CD of a standard padlock is usually 15 in 5e]
There was a moment of doubt, but only a moment. After all, he was practiced at this sort of thing. Picking locks that is. In his line of work, one never knew when and where a lock would impede his success. Rather it was getting into something or, in this case, getting out of something, Holden’s skills were up to the task. The lock opened with a soft click and the chain fell away, leaving a reddish swelling behind on his wrist.
On the way out he paused to grab some fresh grilled sausages and hunks of bread sitting on one end of the bar, free to the Eight Star’s remaining patrons. Of which, there were few at this hour. The sun was still climbing out of the sea and the nightly fog dissipating when he returned to the streets.
Jacob took a hearty bite out of a spicy sausage as he was wandering the empty lanterned streets, when he suddenly had to dodge a speeding chariot, even at this ungodly hour of the morning. There were a few well aimed expletives spewed at the speedsters' direction, then Holden went back to the merry chewing of his sausage. He decided to climb up top and sit down on a little wall somewhere with a good view of the misty portside sunrise. Once up there, he leaned back against the still humidly cold crenellation, and took another bite as his face grew warmer from the morning sunshine. The Eight Star sausage was chewy and slightly on the bloody side, but the spicing made it all come together. Life was good, Jacob thought as he bit into the salty bread loaf, except maybe for the distinctive odor of countless chamber pots being emptied out into the canals below at a regular interval from the cities now opening windows. The lanterns at street level were slowly and laboriously being snuffed out one by one as a bearded and ancient looking member of the Lamplighter Guild made his rounds. Below him, at the base of the mossy green wall, he noticed a little, scrumpy and impossibly dirty street urchin that looked like one out of possibly a thousand occupying the forgotten alleyways in Tarantis.
"Here, catch." He threw the generous leftovers of his food down to the kid. The greasy face with blue eyes ran away shortly thereafter, further along the street, where it was intercepted by another, larger kid. As Holden stood up on the wall, the older teenager took away the bread from the little ones' hands, then they both quickly disappeared running into a random canal-road. Jacob sighed, then went on his own way.
Approaching where Gremlinuex Drive and Buccaneer Street intersected, Holden paused as a wagon heavily loaded with cut wood rolled past, drawn by four draft horses. The Garnet Hand used a large business called Worthy’s Wood as its cover. Worthy’s was an age-old business that was well known within the city as it hired large numbers of the lowest classes to travel daily to the Dyrfirwall Wood north of the city to harvest trees to feed a series of lumber mills, also owned by Worthy. The operation generated quite a bit of legitimate income as well as providing the guild recruiters cover as they gleaned the best and brightest deemed suitable for the guilds needs. As he watched the teamsters backed the wagon into one of two large doors where inside, workers waited with block and tackle to unload the cargo. Dozens of such wagons rolled up, sometimes hourly. Within the large, block long structure were more workers with axes and saws, cutting logs into planks, blocks, or splitting and stacking it by cord. Somewhere on the far side, Holden knew, was another pair of doors where local business came to purchase wood or Worthy’s carts exited, bound with delivery’s for homes and businesses alike. After all, even in the hottest months, firewood was in great demand.
Jacob tipped his hood at the sweating workers "Top of the morning gents. Lots of work for you guys this morning, which means lots of work for us guys tonight." It was not unusual that the very same households where a large wood delivery would be made during the daytime were also to be marked with a rune in thieves’ cant for a hit later that night, depending on the size of their coffers and amount of family jewelry. But petty theft was generally not the only thing that The Garnet Hand was up to these days. The boss-lady called it "diversified investment", to Holden it simply reminded his fathers' droning lessons going on and on about "-not putting all of your eggs into the same basket, kiddo." A lot of good did that serve him. The workers were looking at him funny, he must have zoned out for a second. One of them went "Wut, Sir?" Jacob replied "Nah, nothing. Is the boss-lady in? Or quartermaster? I need to see 'em both about something."
The oldest worker present, sweating along with the others or at least appearing to do so, nods, his fingers making a subtle gesture that was as much an answer or more than the gray beards simple nod of the head.
“Boss ladies in her office as usual, sar,” the man added, “Zam’s back near tha woodshavin bins.” Yet another product offered to those in need, sawdust found uses as floor absorbents, floor padding in stalls, and in a few less reputable bakeries’, a food additive.
Holdens' stomach grumbled. Must've been some sawdust in that Eight Star bread too, or inside the sausage... Most likely both. Tarantis had a way of corrupting perfectly good and innocent pleasures, such as a one-night stand. "Thanks fellas." he tipped his hood again in a semblance of decency, which didn't really become his shady nature and wouldn't likely fool anybody, even less so these workers that knew his spiel already, then strode off disappearing into one of the two huge service doors' shadows. Once emerging on the inner side of the yard he could see, or rather hear, quartermaster Zam on the far end of the complex; he seemed busy, loudly shouting and gesticulating in anger at a group of gathered workers and a few hooded figures standing between them, so Jacob decided wisely to instead first try his luck with the upstairs boss-lady.
When Holden climbed the stairs to the balcony overlooking the wagon entrance twenty feet below, he could see the rather extensive wood distribution center serving as a ligament cover for the guild. Near the drive through lane workmen separated the loads coming in. Assaying the type and quality. Some went onto stacks or carts destine for wood smiths and carvers, others would be purchased for finishing work inside homes and shops under construction or being remodeled. Cedar for example, would go to the coopers; walnut, oak, cherry wood would go to the carvers and furniture makers. Rarer woods went to niche customers while the rougher or less desired woods would end up as firewood or base construction materials. Every delivery was an opportunity, the boss lady liked to say.
Near the center of the balcony was the office – several rooms combined plus another set of stairs leading to the rooftop, made up Worthy’s Wood’s public and private offices. Outside the door lounged a mismatched pair. Darbert is a paunchy, former pit fighter turned guild enforcer, probably assigned to loiter around for security reasons. Nearby, Harrietta Kneer had her slightly pointed nose deep between the pages of some thick, boring looking tomb. Various focuses and talismans dangled from her clothes, hair, and shoes. Whenever someone asked if she was a mage, she wrinkled her nose, sniffed and rolled her sea gray eyes. She preferred the term sage to mage but never explained why.
"Hello gang—" Jacob greeted the odd couple, he knew this would annoy Harrietta to no end, as she always insisted on form over substance. Darbert however was a different story entirely. Holden prepared to be greeted by violent pats on the shoulder and a patronizing sneer respectively. "What's going on downstairs? What in the hells bells is that floob Zam preaching?"
“Eh, wha? – “Darbert started to say but was interrupted by Harrietta who peered up over the edge of her book at Holden and said, “Apparently there’s a big debate going on about rather or not the proper amount of deliveries have been made to the palace,” she said with a sniff. Even as she explained the skinny wizard’s eyes drifted down to some point near his crotch as it often did whenever she was present in the room. “Worthy’s won the contract to supply both the palace and the royal stable’s with various wood products and Lady Carimia wants to keep it.” Aside from the obvious lucrative contract’s value in gold crowns it gave the guild a backdoor means to gaining entry to the palace quarter and all it contains. The Lady was always preaching that information and ear bending was more valuable than snatching valuables than fencing them.
Jacob wasn't really interested. There was always something or the other going sideways, that's why he preferred freelance work or outside business, less guild restrictions. But he still had to pay his percentage. Being in a guild came with both perks and a few disadvantages. As far The Garnet Hand was concerned, they were mostly interested in profiteering and keeping up their appearance; no bloody murder- at least not directly- which seemed to suit Holden perfectly fine. Sometimes however Worthy’s Wood would provide the sawdust to other factions in order to soak up the blood after the fact. "I need to see the boss-lady about a job and make a deposit." Jacob interrupted whatever guild drama he was being told about.
“Yeah, da La – “
“Go on in, Jacob,” Harrietta said, her eyes still focused on something other than his eyes, “Lady Carimia’s expecting you.”
Darbert nodded. “Stuck ‘er head out an’ said, ‘Holden’s on ‘is way up, send him in.”
After which Jacob curtsied to Harrietta in an overtly exaggerated fashion, to the point that his mocking face was so low as to almost meet her wandering gaze. As to Darbert, he was a wholesome but strange fellow; he used to sometimes jovially and out loudly narrate everything that was presently happening around him, including actions and things that were said and done (or not said and done) by others, which would annoy his fastidious mage companion- pardon, lofty sage- even more. Holden couldn't abstain himself from joining in with a little narrative fun of his own making; "And before departing in great haste, he would verily thank m'Lord and m'Lady for their generous permission, and indeed, utmost attention to his nether parts."
The big goon grinned and nearly took Holden off his feet with a slap on the back while the mage, a faint blush on her face, stuck her nose back into her book as he reached for the door handle. Inside, the room was a mixture of working office and a modestly well-off grandmother’s solar. A pair of desks flanked the door, two middle aged clerk’s busy scribbling away in ledgers or on parchments. Both looked up as he entered. Twins, Sade and Fraed greeted him with matching nods. The room was large with the inner wall one large series of paned glass windows overlooking the main floor below. A short hallway on the left wall led to a couple of rooms while on the right wall there was an opening leading to some stairs heading up to the roof. Flowered curtains half blocked the windows with a large, matching flowering carpet covering part of the floor. Near the center of the room was a couple of plush chairs, end tables with cut glass lamps and vases holding flowers and somebody’s grandmother.
“Hello, Jacob,” Lady Carimia said with a grandmotherly smile. Once a fem fatale and an infamous jewel thief, among other things, now the savvy guild master of the cities largest (by it’ own estimation of course) thieves guild. “Come, come, give me a hug, you big bugbear.”
Holden grinned "And let you pickpocket all of the ill-gotten-gains I got from my last employer? No." Instead the finely cut and moderately sized gem given by Bilina was preemptively set on the table in front of them. It reflected the office; multiple instances of a big dysfunctional family included; eagerly scribbling twins, grandmother in audience, and her prodigal grandson returned, or at least that's the way it would've looked to a clueless outsider. "If it's all the same to you, I would rather leave this pretty thing here as a deposit for some gear and a little information." Jacob waited a moment, then, seeing that he was not shooed away- and since the boss-lady already had acknowledged him with her usual matriarchal, and perhaps more than just a tiny bit patronizing way- he sat down across her.
A smile came over the old woman’s face. As was her ritual before business Lady Carimia glanced towards the twins. One in a white turban, the other in green, stood without a word and exited through the hallway on the left. Even as the accountants left a middle-aged woman with short blonde hair entered, bringing a tray with hot tea, several more potent beverages, and a bowl of almond cookies. Farra had retired years ago from the enforcement section of the guild after suffering a near mortal wound that left her weakened. This would have been end of her usefulness to many other guilds, which would have given her a barely adequate stipend and sent her on her way. Not the The Garnet Hand. Farra was a wealth of knowledge on the city’s street gangs and the workings of the City Guard. With a polite nod to Jacob, she turned and left gracefully, the slight limp to her left leg barely noticeable until she reached the hallway. Lady Carimia moved over to the tray.
“Tea? Something stronger?” Even as she asked, she poured a cup of tea then added a short shot of Kailmaria spiced rum. “I heard that you had a busy evening…”
She might've come across as grandmotherly, but to Jacob it was always obvious that she must've been one hell of a charmer once. A certain indelible elegance in posture survived all of her years, and her superficially welcoming eyes hid an insatiably gleeful, opportunistic and greedy cunning. She wasn't the boss-lady for nothing. Holden quickly and summarily caught her up with everything: Garse the Gaffers' weaponized bodily gasses - lil' Guildless Goddesses Tits’ being sent by the Widow - the Blackheart and his Ground Floor Flunkies - the Silver Haired Beauty and her Fanged Rooftop Dancer. Jacob kind of forgot himself in the telling, and just stopped shy of being left tied up at an Eight Star bed-post by Bilina. He also didn't exactly specify what he was up to right now with the wooden vial, that he indeed still had it, or what it contained exactly. It was common and well-respected practice that, except in extraordinary circumstance, freelance jobs or outside work should remain private, unless it would directly interfere with guild business. Lady Carimia loved to hear a good story, but she also usually did not want to be bothered with everyone's' and their brothers' dirty laundry. As long as profits kept coming in, and the key bits of intelligence would reach the correct places. Having said that, it was left to her deciding what information truly was or was not worth special attention. She would ask if she needed or did not indeed already know about everything.
"And then, there's a pocket-sized matter that needs resolving with a certain Half-Orc floob, or the other." Holden proceeded in describing his target. "Does he ring any bells? I was promised more of these where they came from-" Jacob pointed at the twinkling gem between them on the table. "-very good pay for mere second story handiwork, I would say." More questions were asked, such as "Do you have any idea who this Halfling is, or the Widow giving her a competing contract?" and "Have you ever seen this sort of starry symbol here?" (Referring to Bilinas' tattoo) Holden would crudely draw it on a piece of parchment with some Worthy Woods' charcoal, showing it to the boss-lady, grinning, like a nobles' kid to their mother after painting it in art-school.
“Goodness, child, you’ve definitely had a busy evening. Mmm, yes. Well, Farra was telling me the other day that there’s a new bounty hunter operating in the city who fits this Half-Orc’s description. A real bruiser, she says on the account that he got his start as a pit fighter in the shadow arenas” – illicit gambling joints and blood pits where floobs bet on the outcomes of no-holes-barred fights (think fight club). Control of the arenas were split evenly between the Street Artist Collective and the Night Stalkers, which operated the pits, oversaw the betting and collections but left them open to anyone brave enough or desperate enough to dance on the bloody sands.
Jacob hovered forward, fishing for a cookie. He simply couldn't help it. "Brave, desperate or maybe foolish-" Holden thought out loud as he was munching. There were real almonds in these cookies. Jacob thought that they must be strange peanuts.
Sipping her fortified tea, Lady Carimia nodded, “I believe that Farra said his name is Mordecai, if he has a surname, it is unknown. I believe that the Half-Orc makes regular visits to talk with the senior clerk in the sub ministry of communications. Haven’t heard anything about this, how did you put it? This lil' Guildless Goddesses Tits?” The old woman’s eyes twinkled at the flowery title. “The Widow, however, is very well known to me. I have had a lot of dealings with and against that one.” A slight frown caused the skin around Lady Carimia’s mouth to crinkle. “The Widow is an enigma, in that nobody seems to know her name, which is darn odd since there’s references to the woman going back several centuries. Of course, it could be different women taking up the mantle so to speak. Some believe she’s related to one of the older great noble families and that she’s a mage, perhaps archmage. I’ve met her in several locations over the years, but her favorite is her gilded black coach.” There was a twinkle in the guild mistresses’ eye and Holden got the feeling that she knew far more about this Widow than she was willing to share.
Jacob paid special attention with his cookie as to not make a mess of crumbles. He was famous for not leaving evidence, after all. "Mages are bad for business. A fighter like that Mordecai you can trick and lead by the nose, but spell-casters, nah, they'll probably see you coming a mile away, with nothing to go on but a hunch from their crystal bauble. Cheaters..." Holden grumbled, remembering the last job that made him climb a sorcerers' tower, only to find out that the occupant had already moved all of their valuables to a winter residence and filled the place with all sorts of arcane traps and ambushes.
“Mmm, I was mulling this bit of story about this silver-haired beauty and her alleged vampire companion. I can honestly say that the women dose not strike any cords, dear. That said, it if were a vampire that you crossed, a true vampire – after all, there area always kooks or floobs who get off masquerading as terrible beasts, especially this close to the cities major festival, that it could have been a regular man, perhaps one enspelled or a caster creating an illusion.”
Holden stroked his curly and short trimmed beard "Yeah, like we were saying. Damned magical kooks and their shenanigans, as if kooks or magics alone weren't enough trouble already, they have to combine and run amok on the rooftops." In truth this was faux indignation, as Jacob was already thinking about all the chaos that the festival would bring, and how he could probably do an easy score, or two, completely on the side, straight cash grabs, no fencing or guild contributions required.
Setting the empty teacup down Lady Carimia picked up Holden’s sketch and studied the symbol for a moment. “I suspect it’s a sigil for some society or organization, probably secret. Then again, it could simply be a tattoo. I can give this to Farra and ask her to check with some of our experts and see what pops up.”
Jacob answered promptly "Yes, I would be very thankful for that, m'am boss-lady." he was already in the process of picking himself up from the padded seating, since Carimia always had a way to make you far too comfortable for your own good. Holden decided that it would be wiser he got on his way before something slipped his mouth that would inevitably get him into trouble. "With your say so, I've got a time sensitive job to do and you've been very helpful with information, I'll put it to good use and be sure to mention if something of equal interest comes up." Jacob stopped mid-way, just before letting go of the chairs' armrests, somehow compelled to add one more thing before leaving "Just so you know, that Half-Orc is probably going to get into a whole lot of trouble, very soon like." then he added, grinning that mischievous dreamy half smile otherwise only reserved for Bilina, as if he was still under a spell of hers "Not by any direct means, mind you."
The guild mistress gave him a knowing smile then frowned slightly, her eyes looking off at some point on the far wall for a moment before returning to meet his. “Jacob, take care out there. If this vampire nonsense turns into something, then our guild will need to know. Tarantis is a big city, and very, very old. Its roots go deep and we’ve had problems with these…creatures in the past. More times than all but the hardcore sages want to admit. They can be hard to kill.” The old woman gave a grim snort. “What’s already dead should stay dead, after all.”
Holden nodded as he was leaving "Yeah, barely enough elbow space for the living here in Tarantis." And just like that, with a cookie-holding backhand wave, and no further formality, he was out of the boss-ladies' office.
<><><><><><><><><>
Lilita's story continues...
As they walked through the narrow, filthy lanes passing as street’s in the Poor Quarter the evening’s darkness settles over the city like a wool blanket. Cooler than usual, the humidity was high, and the sea mists quickly turns into a thick fog. What few lights that appeared were dim, as if the night was working to snuff them out.
“What do you know about ravens? Raven’s with blood red markings on their wings, like splashed paint,” Mordecai asked.
Lilita thinks for a moment, "I'm sorry, I don't ever recall seeing or hearing anything about ravens with red markings. Why do you ask, did you run across one recently?"
Mordecai pauses as if trying to remember, then says, "Hadara mentioned them during his fever dreams while we were at the vardo the other night. We saw one when we exited the sewers and I think I saw one another time I can't quite remember. There's something about them - they happen to be nearby whenever there's... death. I've never noticed them before and Hadara seems to know more than what he lets on, so I thought there might be a connection with what's been going on lately. It could just be coincidence."
Lilita nods and picks up her pace, "my pursuers, yeah take your pick; Captain Kelban Bessari and his Blackhearts, my noble monster and there are Nicci and her clan... perhaps more, who knows. I guess they all rather enjoy my company... don't you think? But it is nice to be noticed and wanted... even if for all the wrong reasons. Sort of makes me feel like a popular girl! How many ravens I wonder... just one could be a familiar you know watching for its master or mistress and I heard rumor some lucky mages being able to turn a familiar into a whole flock or maybe that is just an exaggeration or rumors you know spellslingers enjoy bragging! I can't wait for you to meet the fey goddess; I think you are going to like her!!! I like her, she nice and has a lot of confidence and swagger for a female but when you are a beautiful exotic courtesan, I suppose you can afford to be."
"The more you call her a fey goddess courtesan, the more I'm convinced she's not and that perhaps she has you charmed," Mordecai responds. He then says with an eyebrow arched up, "You will also have to explain the circumstances of how you came to meet all these people because, well, it's not normal for half the city to chase you about without deserving it."
Mordecai loosens his glaive and swings it to a defensive position in front of him. Through gritted teeth, tusks bared, he tells Lilita, "Hush - we aren't alone in this fog."
A large shape moved in the fog, something on all fours yet nearly reaching Mordecai’s waist. The fog also served to distort a low rumble, something primal sounding and hungry.
"All right you overgrown puppy, Mordecai states coolly as he extends the wicked end of the glaive at the shadow in the fog, "You just pop off where you came from and I won't have to hang your head over my fireplace."
"Right, overgrown kitten," Mordecai responds, "Didn't catch a good glimpse of it through the fog." He then looks at her incredulously, saying, "I don't have a pet tiger."
Lilita looks at the creature not sure to make of it, a tiger in the city is not something you see every day. She whispers to Mordecai, "it's a kitty, not a puppy... you never told me you had a kitty! Don't do anything to provoke it, let me try to put it to sleep."
Slowly Lilita attempts to cast Sleep on the poor beast ((2nd Level Spell Slot 7d8 – Rolled 37)) holding her breath more than frightened, worried more for Mordecai than herself. The creature pauses, snarling softly than shaking its head. She could be wrong, but the beast seemed to be sneering at her attempt. The Tiger did, however, halt out of range of Mordecai’s glaive, her – Lilita was positive it was a female, though how, she didn’t have time to ponder.
"Just because you're trying to make it sleepy, doesn't mean you should cast so slowly," comments Mordecai. His eyes narrow, "That's no normal tiger and the beast recognizes me." He continues holding the glaive up waiting for Lilita's spell to take effect.
Lilita looks Mordecai feeling her spell fizzled which is probably for the best as something doesn't seem right. Hearing Mordecai's words about the beast possibly recognizing him and Lilita's own suspicions. She stands silently agreeing that the tiger is not a normal beast otherwise it would have attacked them by surprise which it did not!
Lilita steps forward placing her hand out to hold Mordecai back... for him to hold his position, "bear with me please, don't attack or provoke it," while she slowly takes another couple of steps forward holding both open-hands out showing it that she is not holding any weapon and speaks to it as she would person, not an animal... addressing the tiger.
"Noble tigress, I am Lilita Lilitu and my large companion here is my protector Mordecai, we mean you no harm. Have you come to escort us somewhere? If so... show us the way and we shall follow you at a discreet distance for your and our peace of mind." Lilita slowly once again takes another couple steps forward towards the beast, "go on now... show us!" She commands!
Mordecai, still holding his action, adds, "Reveal your true self or I'll see to it that you end up as food for the true street cats and dogs of this city."
The big cat sat back on her haunches and gave a toothy yawn as if bored. Then, there was a painful sounding yowl and before their eyes the beast stood on its hind legs, its features morphing into something between the tiger and a human. A human whose face, while still feline, reminded Lilita instantly of someone that she’d only seen that morning, before sunrise.
“Owl’s might eat bats, if they’re lucky to catch one, but cat’s eat birds,” Nicci said in her sultry, feline toned voice. The weretiger’s eyes flicked to take in the Half-Orc. “That yours?”
Not lowering his weapon, Mordecai responds, "Is what mine?"
Lilita's smiles pleasantly at the weretiger, "Nicci my dear, what a pleasant surprise! So, have you come to eat me then? You could have easily done so back at the Black Rose or just after I left on my way home, it must have been maddening to wait for permission," she quips... her manner and demeanor seeming to change with discovering the beast was in fact Nicci!
Then a quick aside to Lilita, "Do you know her? Or are you always this... submissive?" he asks, never taking his eyes off the weretiger.
Then Lilita turns to Mordecai, "do you know this tart? She serves the house of the Black Rose! What do you really want Nicci?"
Lilita gives Nicci a hard-stern look not trusting her... knowing she could suddenly attack without warning but Lilita gets the impression that this cat enjoys playing a bit with its prey... and who knows she might have other motives so Lilita is prepared either way to wait and try to learn more.
“Aww, is the big bad tusker worried about lil’ ole me?” Nicci sneers at Mordecai briefly before turning her focus on Lilita. “Eat you? Oh, sweet one, if I had you wouldn’t have ever wanted to leave.” The weretiger’s tongue caressed one of her fangs almost indecently. “I might yet get a chance before the night is over. Such ill manners you displayed, marking my master’s territory with your garbage graffiti. It took the Black Rose’s resident arcanist all of a half a minute to erase it of course, but after such curtesy shown to you by Mistress Diamonique? I imagine that the master will be quite wroth when he returns.”
"Worry? My only worry is making sure the sharp end of this stick finds its way through your fur," Mordecai replies.
Lilita's demeanor continues to shift and change as she smiles at Nicci... and taunts her, "yeah I did, didn't I... and you not only stood there and watched me do it but you let me walk out of there too as bold as brass! Why is that I wonder? You are here for me without permission aren't you little kitty? You want to make me pay, take a little dead birdie home to place on your master's pillow hoping to win his favor and approval but doing so without his permission is only going to get you into trouble! Go home now Nicci before it's too late."
A hungry gleam enters the beast woman’s eyes as she all but purrs, tail flicking behind her. “You need punished, lil’ princess, yes, yes, oh but punished good for your bad manners.”
Mordecai sees the expression on Lilita's face, then comments to Nicci, "Something tells me you might be the who grabbed the tiger by the tail."
Lilita, without a word of warning she coldly reaches behind her and pulls out the Wand of Lightning Bolts and without any hesitation unleashes its power directly at Nicci using up 2 charges instead of 1... her usually passive and submissive nature drowned out by a growing tempest inside mind calling for blood, calling for vengeance!
Nicci’s scream of pain and rage came as a snarling yowl that was nearly drowned out by the crackling discharge of lightning. The bolt’s raked over and around her so fast that they appeared as one and continued shooting down the alley, arching and blasting in random places along the way. One hit a metal pole or pipe causing it to glow. Other tendrils touched of a half dozen small fires, some in the garbage piled along the walls, other’s the wall’s themselves.
With wisps of lingering electrical discharge racing around her body the weretigress charged. In the narrow confines of the alley her charge at Lilita took Nicci straight at Mordecai where she slashes out with one clawed hand. [Att 14+6=20 vs. AC 16 > Hit > 8+3=11 damage > location Knee = Roll Dex with DC 10 to avoid being knocked down]
Mordecai winces as leg, attempting to knock him down, but manages to maintain his footing. As Nicci tries to get by Mordecai to reach Lilita, Mordecai reacts seeing an opportunity and swings his glaive at the weretiger using his skills as a battlemaster to try and push her back down the alley she came.
The glaive finds its target tearing into the weretiger!
The half woman half tiger screamed, more out of rage of being thwarted than pain from the strike. The kinetic energy behind Mordecai’s swing caught the weretiger, grazing her head the impact sent her reeling back where she would have slammed into the brick wall of a vegetable monger’s shop but her enhanced reflexes allowed her to recover quickly.
Mordecai steadies himself for a brief moment catching his second wind BS then squares himself off against Nicci, interposing himself between the weretiger and Lilita.
Lilita's anger continues to build as Mordecai puts himself between her and her target and screams, "don't try to protect her from my wrath Mordecai, I am going to spay this little kitty... so even her master won't want her!!!" Even as Lilita screams her taunt she darts to the side seeking to target Nicci without Mordecai being in her line of fire she brings the Wand of Lightning Bolts to bear again expending two charges as before... unleashing her fury upon Nicci. [Damage rolled 24 > DC 15 vs Dex Save Roll 14 (failed) GM Note: wand has 3 uses left for the day]
Lightning snapped and crackled, lighting up the narrow alley and connecting fully with the Weretiger. Nicci screamed as every limb spasmed and shook. The impact lifting her up and knocking her nearly a hundred feet away and sending her crashing into stacks of decaying husks, peels, and other inedible vegetable leftovers. And in a flash, darkness and the fog swallowed her up and leaving sundogs dancing before both your eyes.
Mordecai tries to cover his eyes. His jaw drops slightly once he takes note of the damage. He comments to Lilita, "Seems like giving you the wand was a wise decision. Also seems like you have some repressed anger - I hope to never be on the receiving end of it."
Lilita, the static in the air around her causes her silver hair to go all frizzy and stand up as she looks on in wide-eyed surprise as Nicci is sent flying before vanishing into the darkness.
Pain and outrage tinting her scream, Nicci’s voice comes out of the darkness. “Your dead, Lilita Lulitu, do you hear me? Dead!”
"Running away are we little kitten? Bit off more than you could chew with this one, eh?" Mordecai taunts. The grip on his glaive gives a little as he relaxes a bit.
Lilita calls out into the darkness, "do what you gotta do Nicci, I still love you."
There was no response from Nicci, the only sounds the crackle of a few fires.
Lilita shrugs and turns to Mordecai, "she must be serious... she used both my names, that is usually a good indicator someone hates your guts, right? I am sorry if you feel left out because she didn't say your name too, that was rude of her but I am sure she meant you too... so don't worry about it or we can find you an archnemesis of your very own if you like though I have plenty and don't mind sharing."
He looks down at his glaive and says, "You didn't even put a mark on her hide. I'll have to find a way to make sure that doesn't happen again."
Putting the wand away Lilita pulls out her healer's kit.
Mordecai stops her, "Thanks, but not necessary - it's not as bad as it looks. Besides, we should not hang about. You can check it later if you insist." If one were to look at the cut he received, the damage expected seems not to have been inflicted.
He pauses to look at the young woman. He admits, "You're a lot tougher than you look. And I'm sorry for ever having doubted you. I hope you never doubt yourself either."
Looking at the fires scattered about Lilita turns to Mordecai, "oh dear look at what you did Mordecai, we better put them out before we continue on to visit the fey goddess. I think it would be a good idea to see about getting your weapons silvered and maybe getting some wooden stakes as soon as we can but then this isn't your fight Mordecai, I don't want to drag you into something. Trouble has a way of following me wherever I go I guess."
Mordecai looks at her incredulously, "I'll skip over the fact that you don't seem to remember unleashing a hell of lightning, we don't have time to put out small fires. It's nightfall and if we just chased off the servant, the master is soon to follow. Let's get moving!"
Lilita starts attempting to stamp out the smaller fires and uses her cloak to try to beat the larger ones before continuing on mumbling...
<><><><><><><><><>
Mordecai's story continues...
Mordecai sighs, "gods be damned." Mordecai grabs Lilita and begins dragging her away from the fires, moving in the direction the pair was initially headed. He shouts out, "Fires in the alley! Nicci the weretiger’s started fires in the alley! Fires in the alley!"
Lilita is caught by surprise as Mordecai grabs her and starts to drag her off but does not resist as she looks up at him in confusion, "what are you doing Mordecai, the fires are dangerous, we should put them out before they spread and hurt someone," she stammers innocently looking at the flames.
He pushes Lilita in front of him, "You somehow unbelievably do not understand the concepts of danger and haste. Let me put it bluntly: creatures that we cannot kill are about to wake up and hunt us down. So, get a move on. We can't be outside at nightfall."
Lilita looks about, "really? Where? But you hurt Nicci and scared her off Mordecai, what is there to worry about, she was all alone." Even so picks up the pace and follows his lead periodically looking back to see if someone is, in fact, chasing them.
He picks up some ash and charcoal and tells Lilita as he's pushing her along, "Put some of this ash on you, it should help disguise your scent some."
Lilita starts to cough and sputter getting some ash in her mouth and up her nose... she begins to sneeze and tries to push him away but totally outclassed quickly gives up and whimpers, "Mordecai, what are you doing, this a new dress and a gift at that... you are getting it all dirty," she complains loudly! "When the fey goddess sees me like this... all dirty she will surely think I am an unwashed beggar, this is terrible."
He gathers a handful of ash and applies it to various spots on his body.
Lilita watches as Mordecai rubs ash on himself then gives in and follows his lead... rubbing ash all over herself and looking if she wants to cry as she looks down at the state of her dress, "it's ruined, this will never come out!"
"Like I said," Mordecai replies, "this Nicci character will return and with others - I understand her type, they do not take kindly to losing and will stack the odds in their favor to ensure it doesn't happen again. AND, if I understood your little exchange with her correctly, she works for those vampires and Strigoi - so it'd be safe to assume that they'd be after you as soon as the sun is under the horizon, they'll be coming out for a piece of you, as well."
Lilita looks at the setting sun and back to Mordecai, "well yes, Nicci serves those at the Black Rose but as for my Noble Monster, not so much... the two sides are feuding or so I have been led to believe."
"This is why I suggested we use some of the ash to hide our scent," Mordecai says as he applies dabs of ash on where his skin is bare and unclothed. He then looks up at Lilita who had utterly covered her body and dress in ash and merely says, "Errr... I'll have to be more explicit with my suggestions going forward... On the bright side, nothing will be able to find you via scent alone."
Lilita frowns still a bit miffed ruining her new dress, "perhaps those like Nicci cannot track me by scent but my Noble Monster, I think the ash is all but useless since he is capable of crawling inside mind when it amuses him to do so. I assume that is how he found me at the shop where I am employed."
"Now go ahead - lead us to this goddess of your - the rains will cleanse us along the way," Mordecai states flatly. Even as he spoke it there was the sound of distant thunder out on the bay and a hint of rain in the air.
Lilita nods, "Alright then, follow me," she says meekly as she turns and quickly starts walking in the direction of Livvi's.
Traversing the city, they reached the lower end of the Merchant Quarter and wider, better lit streets and as if wanting to help announce their presence the nightly mists were thinner her. Distant thunder was closer, so was the hint of rain. Occasionally there were low flashes of light suggesting lightning as well. Turning a corner, they found themselves across from the Whispering Mane Inn. Before they could cross over, they found their path blocked by many priests and monks passing by in procession three wide. Some beat on shallow drums, others were ringing hand bells or hitting small metal hammers against various metal instruments. Every second formation passing by was singing. “…oh, beautiful city, ancient and true, line your streets in silver, praise the coming of the sun! Oh, beautiful city – “
Lilita looks up at Mordecai, "we're close, just over that way I think, the Whispering... something, I can't remember the rest of it, just on the other side of the procession. Do we wait until they clear the way, or do you have another way?" She asks before starting to join in singing with the crowds clapping her hands together.
"Whispering Mane Inn," Mordecai responds. "So, what should I expect in there?" he asks. He turns to see Lilita singing and clapping...
Lilita looks at Mordecai and stops singing to reply, "it's a regular inn, a very nice one at that, posh and upscale, at least in my opinion. No doubt mistress Livvi does very well for herself. As for what to expect your guess is as good mine. The fey goddess has shown a keen fascination in my noble monster so no doubt she will be interested to learn that he is not the only one and that there are also ferocious were-kitties like Nicci prowling the streets as well. I am more concerned with us being so dirty that the inn's matron will not let us through the door. But we need to talk to the fey goddess, she can help us. Is that what you mean by what to expect?"
Mordecai observes the procession for a moment....
Mordecai grumbles quietly to himself, "Were-kitties... Fey goddesses... Noble monsters... It's amazing that she's alive given how seriously she takes all of this." He clears his throat and tells Lilita, "Look the procession is almost over. We can cross after that last priest dances by."
As a lifelong resident he knew that these sorts of things came in all sorts and styles. Just like the nobs and floob of the city were getting worked up for the Festival week, so were the temple types. Everyone, it seemed, wanted in on the act. About to grab Lilita by the elbow and excuse his way through Mordecai spotted the end of the procession. [Perception Check 7+3=10]
As the last priest danced past and the normal street traffic resumed something flew past, just over his head.
Lilita looks up at the much larger Mordecai and nods in agreement.
Mordecai holds Lilita by the arm and escorts her across the street. He suddenly exclaims, "Bloody hell - what was that?!?"
Mordecai looks around to see what may have dove by his head.
Lilita quickly turns her head upward, trying to follow the direction of his gaze, attempting to see what his eyes seem to be searching for...Rustling his feathers, a large crow made a low qork sound as he perched on the sign above the inn’s main door. In the ruddy light of the lantern beside the door the red splotches on the bird’s wings were the color of blood.
Mordecai spots the crow, he points it out to Lilita, "See that? I've been seeing that ruddy bird over the past few days and each time I have, something nearby is dead or on its way to being dead."
Lilita looks up at the large crow fearfully for a moment then a look of relief crosses the young woman’s ash spotted face.
He shakes his head, "This is an ill omen."
Mordecai guides Lilita to the inn and opens the door for her.
Lilita will look at Mordecai, "so that is crow that you were talking about before? Maybe it likes you or is just hungry. Perhaps if you feed it something it will go away?"
Mordecai squints his eyes at Lilita, responding, "I'd rather not."
Noting that Lilita stopped to look at the crow, Mordecai goes ahead and enters the inn, patting off what ash he could as he enters.
“Welcome to the Whispering Mane, citizen, I’m Hamron Ilkestoon, proud proprietor – by all the gods, yer a mess!”
He gruffly says to no one in particular, "Fire out in the district - we got caught up in the smoke." Mordecai takes a moment then to observe the space and the people within it, looking and noting possible threats, individuals he may recognize, and escape routes. The entry way opened into a well-lit common room with the standard fireplace, numerous tables and booths and a bar along one wall. Like most of the inn’s in the city, the Whispering Mane was quite crowded. The approaching festival was busy drawing in floobs from both provinces as well as travelers from abroad. Most of the guests peering back at him (or pretending not to stare at him out of curiosity) from where they sat. Conversation dipped then rose again.
Lilita finally came in. "Hello, I am Lilita, a friend of Livvi's, is she at home? Could we see her please or could you please send word up to her that I am here waiting and need to speak to her? Thank you."
"She lives in an inn?" Mordecai asks. "Sure... Why not? Next you'll tell me that she works for the government and still manages to afford all this."
Lilita smiles up at Mordecai, "as far I know she lives here, that is what she said when she brought me here to answer the handsome knight's questions." Then she laughs at Mordecai's comment about Livvi working for the government or some such thing, "No, no, I imagine the fey goddess to be either be a courtesan or an exotic dancer, or both given her immodest attire last evening. It was extremely provocative and sensual so if she works for the government, why would she dress in such a manner? Just wait until you meet her, I am confident you will be taken by her beauty and kindness."
Just then a half-elf walks down the stairs, holding her head up and stepping as if she were royalty.
"An exotic dancer, am I?" she says and chuckles, a sultry kind of laugh that she had learned meant many things to people. Always best to keep them guessing..."Exotic, to be sure. A dancer with the right partner. But I am not what you might think - despite my costume from last night. Of course, you were more exposed than I, missy-miss, and didn't seem in any hurry to cover yourself. So, who is the courtesan, I wonder?" Livvi finishes with a wink at Lilita. "And who is your massive friend? Where was he last night when you needed someone like him to watch out for you?"
Lilita gives Livvi a look of confusion, "I am not sure if I remember that part as you do m'lady, the events of that evening are a bit hazy for me I fear." Then turns to smile up at Mordecai as she starts to introduce the pair, "this is my very good friend Mordecai, Mistress Livvi. He was working I think; I am sure if he knew I was in danger he would put everything aside to protect me just like he did a little while ago. If not for his bravery and battle prowess the kitty Nicci would have gobbled me all up like a little birdie!"
"Mordecai, this Mistress Livvi, the fey goddess that I told you about. Isn't she beautiful, just like I said?"
Livvi holds out her hand to Mordecai in the manner of the court ladies, fingers forward and down, the back of her hand up so that he could kiss her hand. "I am Livvi. What shall I call you, good ser? And what brings you to my apartments?"
Mordecai takes Livvi's hand and shakes it as if meeting a coworker. He responds, "The name's Mordecai. I owed this young spellweaver a debt and I paid it by accompanying her here to you - apparently she's run afoul of some unsavory characters." His eyes widen in recognition, "I've seen you in the Ministry with a brass tube in hand... Internal communications? You're a town crier, right?"
Then, turning to Lilita, he says with a chuckle, "See that? Your 'fey goddess' does work for the government."
Lilita watches the exchange between the two with interest.
Turning her attention back to Lilita, the bard says, "I went by your shop this morning to check in on you and met Master Pencelot. A nice old man, very concerned about you. We went to your wagon to check on you, but were only greeted by your plant, Tulip. An interesting creature, that...but that is a topic for another time. Did you get home alright last night? Did the Blackheart knight treat you well? I apologize for running out on you like that, but I had someone I had to meet..."
Lilita smiles, "you mean Captain Kelban Bessari, the third son to Count Bessari? He was most stern and cross with me, I fear. He wishes for me to report to the stocks in traitor’s square where I will be made to pay for my crimes, and I will be sure to do so when it is a bit more convenient for me to do so. I left him napping while I went to visit the Black Rose to look for my Noble Monster, Lord Rakia Rezgui from the Karzulun there but he was not in so I instead spoke to Mistress Diamonique and Mistress Nicci who kindly provided me with this lovely new dress that Mordecai got ash all over," she cries genuinely distressed about the current state of her dress.
Mordecai interjects, "First off, why are you SEEKING OUT this "noble monster," a vampire, that at best wants you as his undead concubine and at worst his next meal? Secondly, Mistress Nicci tried to kill you earlier - maybe they're tracking you through the dress? And finally, yes, I did tell you to put some ash on yourself to hide your scent from the WERETIGER, I didn't expect you to bathe in it - sorry for not being more specific with my suggestion."
Mordecai, looking frustrated, turns his eyes to the ground and sighs.
Lilita then regains her composure and continues her rather long and twisting tale, "Sadly Master Maigrinstaff who I suspect to be the same sort of being as my Noble Monster was also absent not to be found at the Black Rose. I was informed that he was at his estate in the mountains attending to some sort of business. Anyway, my Noble Monster – “
Mordecai coughs.
“– used to be permitted to visit the Black Rose but evidently, he and Master Maigrinstaff had a bit of a falling out and he is no longer welcome there or the city for that matter having been exiled! So, it is my understanding that once Master Maigrinstaff learns of my Noble Monster's return to the city there will spot of trouble between them and perhaps their factions as well. I think they have factions, maybe, but I am a little unclear on that point or if they are factions or clans, but I would imagine it is something along those lines. But I could be mistaken as you can imagine that it was all a bit much to take in all at once! You know, my head was spinning a little and I was getting very sleepy. So, I a drew sigil on a wall of the Black Rose and made my way back home to my vardo wagon and feel asleep after such a trying day and night. Then Mordecai came to visit me, and I sought to bring him here to meet you when along the way we encountered Nicci from the Black Rose in the form of a tiger who seemly was rather upset and attacked us."
Mordecai goes slackjaw some.
Giving Livvi and innocent look Lilita shrugs, "For the life of me I don't know why she was so cross. I mean when I left her at the Black Rose, I had thought that we had hit it off very well and were akin to sisters. But Mordecai shooed her away, fortunately! So, no harm was done, so I forgive her."
Mordecai waves his hands in exasperation, saying, "Woah, woah, there is no way I'm buying that you think you two were akin to sisters. You goaded her in the alley by asking her how frustrated it felt for her not to be able to hunt you until she got permission?"
He quickly continues, "Livvi - have you any idea what's going on here? I'm pretty sure that Lilita is under-selling how dire her situation is."
Lilita looks around and coughs out a bit of ash and soot, "do you think that I could some water please? I am a bit parched."
Livvi's eyes grow wider, and then narrower, as Lilita tells her tale and Mordecai interjects his edits. When the Grey Lady asks for some water, Livvi sees the rest of the tavern staring in awe and wonder at the trio. She blinks and glances around. In the space of a few breaths she says, loudly, "Ah, my dear, that is EXACTLY the kind of story I am interested in writing into a new stage production. Look, you have everyone here enthralled by the mere outline sketches of the tale! Come, let's move to a more private room to discuss the script and costumes. Hamaron, a jug of water and a bottle of wine for us, please. We are not to be disturbed, or I will write you as the luckless fool who bumbles everything in the play!" She says in a pretend tone of mocking and command. Of course, she really means to keep everyone away... "Ladies and gentlemen, we hope that you will come out to see this production when we open in the spring!" She leads her two companions back to the private room where she and Lilita had waited for the Blackheart knight previously.
When they are in the room, with drinks poured and the door securely shut, Livvi bursts out, "By the goddesses' left tit, girl, how big of a mess have you gotten yourself into? Vampire clans at war, lycanthropes hunting you in the open streets, and your odd memory loss and obvious enchantment by this Lord Rakia Rezgui. And you mentioned a sigil that you drew at the Black Rose - what was it? What is its meaning? How can we take care of these problems so that we cannot die, or be turned into undead thralls, or cause everyone to burn the city to the ground?"
Lilita looks at Livvi and Mordecai, "I drew a picture of the sigil for Mordecai on a piece of parchment so he can show you what it looks like but to be honest it is all starting to take on a dream-like aspect and getting a bit fuzzy around the edges as time goes. It's an owl sigil but as to what exactly it means. Well, your guess is as good mine. I am sorry I cannot be more helpful, but I rushed here knowing how interested you were about all this and I just wanted to repay you for helping me before figuring that you would know what to do with the information."
Mordecai, somewhat disinterestedly, takes the drawing out for Livvi to review, then folds it back up and places it back in his pack.
Lilita takes a long drink of water and looks down at her feet, then looks shyly back turns to Mordecai... and Livvi, "yes Mordecai, I am seeking out my Noble Monster but I have my reasons and no doubt he is looking for me as well, at least I hope so. Thank you both for protecting me, I appreciate your efforts, but my fight isn't your fight. Those at the Black Rose do not know about Livvi so she has nothing to fear from them, nor do you, Mordecai, Nicci was only interested in me, not you. But the Noble Monster has taken a fancy to Livvi so that is another matter, but I will try to talk to him again and do what I can to convince him to leave her alone. Besides, he will have other, more pressing problems to worry about other than Livvi. In any event, I am content to deal with my own situation myself, no need to put yourselves at risk for me."
"Oh, for the love of...." Mordecai starts, "you need to stop calling this creature "noble monster" and just call him by his name - Rezgui, was it? Part of dealing with such troubling issues is accepting them for what they are. Infantilizing the way, you're doing will only give them more power over you. You've a tougher spirit than you know - you are not acting like the woman that heals the sick of her community without thought of your safety. Don't let these creatures erode your resolve." Mordecai, off his soapbox so to speak, carelessly takes a seat - like a person tired after a long day.
After listening to their additional details, Livvi says, "OK. I have a friend that needs to hear all of this. We usually meet at a little café in the Merchant's quarter called the Witches Brew. Look for the green-haired server - her name is Nephele and you once healed her wrist, Lilita - and ask for me. If I am not there I will be shortly. Because I am, in fact, currently working as a crier for the Lion."
Mordecai rouses a bit, having lost interest for a bit seemingly in favor of some self-reflection. He asks, "Nephele is the one you want us to meet or is she simply your host, keeping us company until you arrive? I can't imagine it's the server. Who are you introducing us to, Livvi?"
He looks up at the bard, "I've not survived this long by entering situations blind - although I admit today, I felt nearsighted."
Lilita frowns as she considers Livvi's request and replies, "I would rather not Mistress Livvi, but I guess, if you insist, alright then I will speak to your friend. The Witches Brew, you said in the Merchants quarter, I know it but never been inside so I will see you there then, later." Lilita turns and promptly walks out the door without another word.
"Not a wise one, is she? Creatures of the night are after her and off she storms into the early dusk of the evening," Mordecai comments to himself as much as to Livvi. He stands up, then continues speaking, saying, "We could just let her be and let the world have her. Although I suspect neither of us will do that - tonight at least."
He looks toward Livvi and suggests, "Perhaps you should offer her a room for tonight - I doubt she'll survive the trek back home. That Nicci character will be back... and with friends."
Mordecai heads out the door to catch up with Lilita. As he does, he calls back to Livvi, "So are you coming 'fey goddess' or are you worried that your divinity will be tested?”
<><><><><><><><><><><>
Lilita's story continues...
Mordecai sighs, "gods be damned." Mordecai grabs Lilita and begins dragging her away from the fires, moving in the direction the pair was initially headed. He shouts out, "Fires in the alley! Nicci the weretiger started fires in the alley! Fires in the alley!"
Lilita is caught by surprise as Mordecai grabs her and starts to drag her off but does not resist as she looks up at him in confusion, "what are you doing Mordecai, the fires are dangerous, we should put them out before they spread and hurt someone," she stammers innocently looking at the flames.
He pushes Lilita in front of him, "You somehow unbelievably do not understand the concepts of danger and haste. Let me put it bluntly: creatures that we cannot kill are about to wake up and hunt us down. So, get a move on. We can't be outside at nightfall."
Lilita looks about, "really? Where? But you hurt Nicci and scared her off Mordecai, what is there to worry about, she was all alone." Lilita deciding it is best to go along with Mordecai's judgment of such matters picks up the pace and follows his lead periodically looking back to see if someone is, in fact, chasing them.
He picks up some ash and charcoal and tells Lilita as he's pushing her along, "Put some of this ash on you, it should help disguise your scent some."
Lilita starts to cough and sputter getting some ash in her mouth and up her nose... she begins to sneeze and tries to push him away but totally outclassed quickly gives up and whimpers, "Mordecai, what are you doing, this a new dress and a gift at that... you are getting it all dirty," she complains loudly! "When the fey goddess sees me like this... all dirty she will surely think I am an unwashed beggar, this is terrible."
Mordecai than gathers a handful of ash and applies it to various spots on his body.
Lilita watches as Mordecai rubs ash on himself even though she thinks it is all unnecessary she shakes her head but gives in and follows his lead... rubbing ash all over herself just to humor him, wanting to cry as she looks down at the state of her dress, "it's ruined, this will never come out!"
"Like I said," Mordecai replies, "this Nicci character will return and with others - I understand her type, they do not take kindly to losing and will stack the odds in their favor to ensure it doesn't happen again. AND, if I understood your little exchange with her correctly, she works for those vampires and Strigoi - so it'd be safe to assume that they'd be after you as soon as the sun is under the horizon, they'll be coming out for a piece of you, as well."
Lilita looks at the setting sun and back to Mordecai, "well yes, Nicci serves those at the Black Rose but as for my Noble Monster, not so much... the two sides are feuding or, so I have been led to believe."
"This is why I suggested we use some of the ash to hide our scent," Mordecai says as he applies dabs of ash on where his skin is bare and unclothed. He then looks up at Lilita who had utterly covered her body and dress in ash and merely says, "Errr... I'll have to be more explicit with my suggestions going forward... On the bright side, nothing will be able to find you via scent alone."
Lilita frowns still a bit miffed ruining her new dress, "perhaps those like Nicci cannot track me by scent but my Noble Monster, I think the ash is all but useless since he is capable of crawling inside mind when it amuses him to do so. I assume that is how he found me at the shop where I am employed."
"Now go ahead - lead us to this goddess of your - the rains will cleanse us along the way," Mordecai states flatly. Even as he spoke it there was the sound of distant thunder out on the bay and a hint of rain in the air.
Lilita nods, "Alright then, follow me," she says meekly as she turns and quickly starts walking in the direction of Livvi's.
Traversing the city, they reached the lower end of the Merchant Quarter and wider, better lit streets and as if wanting to help announce their presence the nightly mists were thinner her. Distant thunder was closer, so was the hint of rain. Occasionally there were low flashes of light suggesting lightning as well. Turning a corner, they found themselves across from the Whispering Mane Inn. Before they could cross over, they found their path blocked by many priests and monks passing by in procession three wide. Some beat on shallow drums, others were ringing handbells or hitting small metal hammers against various metal instruments. Every second formation passing by was singing. “…oh, beautiful city, ancient and true, line your streets in silver, praise the coming of the sun! Oh, beautiful city – “
Lilita looks up at Mordecai, "we're close, just over that way I think, the Whispering... something, I can't remember the rest of it, just on the other side of the procession. Do we wait until they clear the way, or do you have another way?" She asks before starting to join in singing with the crowds clapping her hands together.
"Whispering Mane Inn," Mordecai responds. "So, what should I expect in there?" he asks. He turns to see Lilita singing and clapping...
Lilita looks at Mordecai and stops singing to reply, "it's a regular inn, a very nice one at that, posh and upscale, at least in my opinion. No doubt mistress Livvi does very well for herself. As for what to expect your guess is as good mine. The fey goddess has shown a keen fascination in my noble monster so no doubt she will be interested to learn that he is not the only one and that there are also ferocious were-kitties like Nicci prowling the streets as well. I am more concerned with us being so dirty that the inn's matron will not let us through the door. But we need to talk to the fey goddess, she can help us. Is that what you mean by what to expect?"
Mordecai observes the procession for a moment....
The big half-orc stands there, eyeing the procession and obviously growing impatient with it’s impeding their progress.
Mordecai clears his throat and tells Lilita, "Look the procession is almost over. We can cross after that last priest dances by."
Lilita looks up at the much larger Mordecai and nods in agreement.
Mordecai holds Lilita by the arm and escorts her across the street. He suddenly exclaims, "Bloody hell - what was that?!?"
As Mordecai takes her arm Lilita presses herself closer to him feeling safe and protected. Then the moment he shouts in surprise those warm feelings quickly fade and are replaced with a sense of apprehension.
Mordecai looks around quickly, his head jerking from place to place, as if looking for something on the surrounding floors above.
Lilita quickly turns her head upward, trying to follow the direction of his gaze, attempting to see what his eyes seem to be searching for and sees.
Rustling his feathers, a large crow made a low qork sound as he perched on the sign above the inn’s main door. In the ruddy light of the lantern beside the door the red splotches on the bird’s wings were the color of blood.
Lilita looks up at the large crow feeling a sense of relief that it is not her Noble Monster but then recalls Mordecai talking about crows with red on their wings earlier making her wonder if this was what he is speaking of.
Mordecai spots the crow, he points it out to Lilita, "See that? I've been seeing that ruddy bird over the past few days and each time I have, something nearby is dead or on its way to being dead."
He shakes his head, "This is an ill omen."
Mordecai guides Lilita to the inn and opens the door for her.
The crow crabs sideways along the edge of the sign as they approach, its beady black eyes staring into her soul. Head cocking the crow issues several muttering qork’s and soft cackles as if talking to her. Briefly its wings spread slightly, giving her a clear view of the red markings on the inside of it’s wings. They sort of look like the top half of a gazing owl.
Guided by Mordecai... Lilita ducks through the open door of the inn half-frightened by the ominous crow thinking whatever it is, it has Mordecai on edge and the way it looked at her sent shivers down her spine but there was something almost familiar about the markings on its wings resembling the top half of a gazing owl. Could it somehow be connected to the owl sigil she had drawn at the Black Rose the memory of which has taken on an almost dream-like quality, still not sure why she even drew it in the first place?
Once safely inside Lilita will look at Mordecai, "so that is crow that you were talking about before? Maybe it likes you or is just hungry. Perhaps if you feed it something it will go away?"
Mordecai squints his eyes at Lilita, responding, "I'd rather not."
Noting that Lilita stopped to look at the crow, Mordecai goes ahead and enters the inn, patting off what ash he could as he enters. Above the crow cocks its head, one black eye gazing intently at her as she reaches the door. Lilita…
Lilita having paused at the door looks back at the crow as it stares at her, "don't worry little blackbird if we get something to eat inside, I will save a bite for you for when we come back out... that is if you are still around." Lilita smiles thinking that Mordecai will probably complain about her talking to strange birds too, but she couldn't help herself.
From inside she could hear the innkeeper introducing himself as Hamron Ilkestoon, then giving an exclamation at Mordecai’s appearance. The half-orc responds gruffly:
“Fire out in the district - we got caught up in the smoke."
Lilita following Mordecai inside smiles politely up at the innkeeper, "Hello, I am Lilita, a friend of Livvi's, is she at home? Could we see her please or could you please send word up to her that I am here waiting and need to speak to her? Thank you."
"She lives in an inn?" Mordecai asks. "Sure... Why not? Next you'll tell me I St that she works for the government and still manages to afford all this."
Lilita smiles up at Mordecai, "as far I know she lives here, that is what she said when she brought me here to answer the handsome knight's questions." Then she laughs at Mordecai's comment about Livvi working for the government or some such thing, "No, no, I imagine the fey goddess to be either be a courtesan or an exotic dancer, or both given her immodest attire last evening. It was extremely provocative and sensual so if she works for the government, why would she dress in such a manner? Just wait until you meet her, I am confident you will be taken by her beauty and kindness."
Just then Livvi walks down the stairs, holding her head up and stepping as if she were royalty.
"An exotic dancer, am I?" she says and chuckles, a sultry kind of laugh that she had learned meant many things to people. Always best to keep them guessing..."Exotic, to be sure. A dancer with the right partner. But I am not what you might think - despite my costume from last night. Of course, you were more exposed than I, missy-miss, and didn't seem in any hurry to cover yourself. So, who is the courtesan, I wonder?" Livvi finishes with a wink at Lilita. "And who is your massive friend? Where was he last night when you needed someone like him to watch out for you?"
Lilita gives Livvi a look of confusion, "I am not sure if I remember that part as you do m'lady, the events of that evening are a bit hazy for me I fear." Then turns to smile up at Mordecai as she starts to introduce the pair, "this is my very good friend Mordecai, Mistress Livvi. He was working I think, I am sure if he knew I was in danger he would put everything aside to protect me just like he did a little while ago. If not for his bravery and battle prowess the kitty Nicci would have gobbled me all up like a little birdie!"
"Mordecai, this Mistress Livvi, the fey goddess that I told you about. Isn't she beautiful, just like I said?"
Livvi holds out her hand, in the manner of the court ladies, fingers forward and down, the back of her hand up so that he could kiss her hand. "I am Livvi. What shall I call you, good ser? And what brings you to my apartments?"
Mordecai takes Livvi's hand and shakes it as if meeting a coworker. He responds, "The name's Mordecai. I owed this young spellweaver a debt and I paid it by accompanying her here to you - apparently she's run afoul of some unsavory characters." His eyes widen in recognition, "I've seen you in the Ministry with a brass tube in hand... Internal communications? You're a town crier, right?"
Then, turning to Lilita, he says with a chuckle, "See that? Your 'fey goddess' does work for the government."
Lilita watches the exchange between the two with interest, confident that the pair will get on famously...
Turning her attention back to Lilita, the bard says, "I went by your shop this morning to check in on you and met Master Pencelot. A nice old man, very concerned about you. We went to your wagon to check on you, but were only greeted by your plant, Tulip. An interesting creature, that...but that is a topic for another time. Did you get home alright last night? Did the Blackheart knight treat you well? I apologize for running out on you like that, but I had someone I had to meet..."
Lilita smiles, "you mean Captain Kelban Bessari, the third son to Count Bessari? He was most stern and cross with me, I fear. He wishes for me to report to the stocks in traitor’s square where I will be made to pay for my crimes, and I will be sure to do so when it is a bit more convenient for me to do so. I left him napping while I went to visit the Black Rose to look for my Noble Monster, Lord Rakia Rezgui from the Karzulun there but he was not in so I instead spoke to Mistress Diamonique and Mistress Nicci who kindly provided me with this lovely new dress that Mordecai got ash all over," she cries genuinely distressed about the current state of her dress.
Mordecai interjects, "First off, why are you SEEKING OUT this "noble monster," a vampire, that at best wants you as his undead concubine and at worst his next meal? Secondly, Mistress Nicci tried to kill you earlier - maybe they're tracking you through the dress? And finally, yes, I did tell you to put some ash on yourself to hide your scent from the WERETIGER, I didn't expect you to bathe in it - sorry for not being more specific with my suggestion."
Mordecai, looking frustrated, turns his eyes to the ground and sighs.
Lilita then regains her composure and continues her rather long and twisting tale, "Sadly Master Maigrinstaff who I suspect to be the same sort of being as my Noble Monster was also absent not to be found at the Black Rose. I was informed that he was at his estate in the mountains attending to some sort of business. Anyway, my Noble Monster – “
Mordecai coughs.
“– used to be permitted to visit the Black Rose but evidently, he and Master Maigrinstaff had a bit of a falling out and he is no longer welcome there or the city for that matter having been exiled! So, it is my understanding that once Master Maigrinstaff learns of my Noble Monster's return to the city there will spot of trouble between them and perhaps their factions as well. I think they have factions, maybe, but I am a little unclear on that point or if they are factions or clans, but I would imagine it is something along those lines. But I could be mistaken as you can imagine that it was all a bit much to take in all at once! You know, my head was spinning a little and I was getting very sleepy. So, I a drew sigil on a wall of the Black Rose and made my way back home to my vardo wagon and feel asleep after such a trying day and night. Then Mordecai came to visit me, and I sought to bring him here to meet you when along the way we encountered Nicci from the Black Rose in the form of a tiger who seemly was rather upset and attacked us."
Mordecai goes slackjaw some.
Giving Livvi and innocent look Lilita shrugs, "For the life of me I don't know why she was so cross. I mean when I left her at the Black Rose, I had thought that we had hit it off very well and were akin to sisters. But Mordecai shooed her away, fortunately! So, no harm was done, so I forgive her."
Mordecai waves his hands in exasperation, saying, "Woah, woah, there is no way I'm buying that you think you two were akin to sisters. You goaded her in the alley asking her how frustrated did it feel for her not to be able to hunt you until she got permission?"
He quickly continues, "Livvi - have you any idea what's going on here? I'm pretty sure that Lilita is under-selling how dire her situation is."
Lilita looks around and coughs out a bit of ash and soot, "do you think that I could some water please? I am a bit parched."
Livvi's eyes grow wider, and then narrower, as Lilita tells her tale and Mordecai interjects his edits. When the Grey Lady asks for some water, Livvi sees the rest of the tavern staring in awe and wonder at the trio. She blinks and glances around. In the space of a few breaths she says, loudly, "Ah, my dear, that is EXACTLY the kind of story I am interested in writing into a new stage production. Look, you have everyone here enthralled by the mere outline sketches of the tale! Come, let's move to a more private room to discuss the script and costumes. Hamaron, a jug of water and a bottle of wine for us, please. We are not to be disturbed, or I will write you as the luckless fool who bumbles everything in the play!" She says in a pretend tone of mocking and command. Of course, she really means to keep everyone away... "Ladies and gentlemen, we hope that you will come out to see this production when we open in the spring!" She leads her two companions back to the private room where she and Lilita had waited for the Blackheart knight previously.
When they are in the room, with drinks poured and the door securely shut, Livvi bursts out, "By the goddesses' left tit, girl, how big of a mess have you gotten yourself into? Vampire clans at war, lycanthropes hunting you in the open streets, and your odd memory loss and obvious enchantment by this Lord Rakia Rezgui. And you mentioned a sigil that you drew at the Black Rose - what was it? What is its meaning? How can we take care of these problems so that we cannot die, or be turned into undead thralls, or cause everyone to burn the city to the ground?"
Lilita looks at Livvi and Mordecai, "I drew a picture of the sigil for Mordecai on a piece of parchment so he can show you what it looks like but to be honest it is all starting to take on a dream-like aspect and getting a bit fuzzy around the edges as time goes. It's an owl sigil but as to what exactly it means. Well, your guess is as good mine. I am sorry I cannot be more helpful, but I rushed here knowing how interested you were about all this and I just wanted to repay you for helping me before figuring that you would know what to do with the information."
Mordecai, somewhat disinterestedly, takes the drawing out for Livvi to review, then folds it back up and places it back in his pack.
Lilita takes a long drink of water and looks down at her feet, then looks shyly back turns to Mordecai... and Livvi, "yes Mordecai, I am seeking out my Noble Monster but I have my reasons and no doubt he is looking for me as well, at least I hope so. Thank you both for protecting me, I appreciate your efforts, but my fight isn't your fight. Those at the Black Rose do not know about Livvi so she has nothing to fear from them, nor do you, Mordecai, Nicci was only interested in me, not you. But the Noble Monster has taken a fancy to Livvi so that is another matter, but I will try to talk to him again and do what I can to convince him to leave her alone. Besides, he will have other, more pressing problems to worry about other than Livvi. In any event, I am content to deal with my own situation myself, no need to put yourselves at risk for me."
"Oh, for the love of...." Mordecai starts, "you need to stop calling this creature "noble monster" and just call him by his name - Rezgui, was it? Part of dealing with such troubling issues is accepting them for what they are. Infantilizing the way, you're doing will only give them more power over you. You've a tougher spirit than you know - you are not acting like the woman that heals the sick of her community without thought of your safety. Don't let these creatures erode your resolve." Mordecai, off his soapbox so to speak, carelessly takes a seat - like a person tired after a long day.
After listening to their additional details, Livvi says, "OK. I have a friend that needs to hear all of this. We usually meet at a little café in the Merchant's quarter called the Witches Brew. Look for the green-haired server - her name is Nephele and you once healed her wrist, Lilita - and ask for me. If I am not there I will be shortly. Because I am, in fact, currently working as a crier for the Lion."
Mordecai rouses a bit, having lost interest for a bit seemingly in favor of some self-reflection. He asks, "Nephele is the one you want us to meet or is she simply your host, keeping us company until you arrive? I can't imagine it's the server. Who are you introducing us to, Livvi?"
He looks up at the bard, "I've not survived this long by entering situations blind - although I admit today, I felt nearsighted."
Lilita frowns as she considers Livvi's request and replies, "I would rather not Mistress Livvi, but I guess, if you insist, alright then I will speak to your friend. The Witches Brew, you said in the Merchants quarter, I know it but never been inside so I will see you there then, later." Lilita thinking the conversation complete... turns and promptly walks out the door without another word.
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Livvi's story continues...
[GM Notes: A little bit of a time warp to bring both parties to the same time zone, so to speak]
When Lilita and her male escort hadn’t been waiting at the Whispering Mane, Livvi rushed back out to take care of her late afternoon crier duties, then rushed over to the Palace and checked in with Quig, including snatching up her pay for the day and rushing home. Supper came and went and still no Grey Lady. Dark fell. About to head over to see if Lilita had gone home she heard some voices at the bottom of the stairs.
“Welcome to the Whispering Mane, citizen, I’m Hamron Ilkestoon, proud proprietor – by all the gods, yer a mess!”
The visitor gruffly replies with: "Fire out in the district - we got caught up in the smoke."
"Hello, I am Lilita, a friend of Livvi's, is she at home? Could we see her please or could you please send word up to her that I am here waiting and need to speak to her? Thank you."
"She lives in an inn. Sure... Why not? Next you'll tell me I St that she works for the government and still manages to afford all this."
The grey lady’s voice says, "as far I know she lives here, that is what she said when she brought me here to answer the handsome knight's questions." Then she laughs at Mordecai's comment about Livvi working for the government or some such thing, "No, no, I imagine the fey goddess to be either be a courtesan or an exotic dancer, or both given her immodest attire last evening. It was extremely provocative and sensual so if she works for the government, why would she dress in such a manner? Just wait until you meet her, I am confident you will be taken by her beauty and kindness."
Livvi suppresses a laugh - barely - as she overhears the conversation at the bottom of the stairs. She was relieved that the male voice did not sound like the noble-monster - a blessing to be sure! She walks down the stairs, holding her head up and stepping as if she were royalty. She had to make a good impression on whoever was with Lilita!
"An exotic dancer, am I?" she says and chuckles, a sultry kind of laugh that she had learned meant many things to people. Always best to keep them guessing..."Exotic, to be sure. A dancer with the right partner. But I am not what you might think - despite my costume from last night. Of course, you were more exposed than I, missy-miss, and didn't seem in any hurry to cover yourself. So, who is the courtesan, I wonder?" Livvi finishes with a wink at Lilita. "And who is your massive friend? Where was he last night when you needed someone like him to watch out for you?"
Lilita gives Livvi a look of confusion, "I am not sure if I remember that part as you do m'lady, the events of that evening are a bit hazy for me I fear." Then turns to smile up at Mordecai as she starts to introduce the pair, "this is my very good friend Mordecai, Mistress Livvi. He was working I think; I am sure if he knew I was in danger he would put everything aside to protect me just like he did a little while ago. If not for his bravery and battle prowess the kitty Nicci would have gobbled me all up like a little birdie!"
"Mordecai, this Mistress Livvi, the fey goddess that I told you about. Isn't she beautiful, just like I said?"
Livvi holds out her hand, in the manner of the court ladies, fingers forward and down, the back of her hand up so that he could kiss her hand. "I am Livvi. What shall I call you, good ser? And what brings you to my apartments?"
Mordecai takes Livvi's hand and shakes it as if meeting a coworker. He responds, "The name's Mordecai. I owed this young spellweaver a debt and I paid it by accompanying her here to you - apparently she's run afoul of some unsavory characters." His eyes widen in recognition, "I've seen you in the Ministry with a brass tube in hand... Internal communications? You're a town crier, right?"
Then, turning to Lilita, he says with a chuckle, "See that? Your 'fey goddess' does work for the government."
Lilita watches the exchange between the two with interest.
Turning her attention back to Lilita, the bard says, "I went by your shop this morning to check in on you and met Master Pencelot. A nice old man, very concerned about you. We went to your wagon to check on you, but were only greeted by your plant, Tulip. An interesting creature, that...but that is a topic for another time. Did you get home alright last night? Did the Blackheart knight treat you well? I apologize for running out on you like that, but I had someone I had to meet..."
Lilita smiles, "you mean Captain Kelban Bessari, the third son to Count Bessari? He was most stern and cross with me, I fear. He wishes for me to report to the stocks in traitor’s square where I will be made to pay for my crimes, and I will be sure to do so when it is a bit more convenient for me to do so. I left him napping while I went to visit the Black Rose to look for my Noble Monster, Lord Rakia Rezgui from the Karzulun there but he was not in so I instead spoke to Mistress Diamonique and Mistress Nicci who kindly provided me with this lovely new dress that Mordecai got ash all over," she cries genuinely distressed about the current state of her dress.
Mordecai interjects, "First off, why are you SEEKING OUT this "noble monster," a vampire, that at best wants you as his undead concubine and at worst his next meal? Secondly, Mistress Nicci tried to kill you earlier - maybe they're tracking you through the dress? And finally, yes, I did tell you to put some ash on yourself to hide your scent from the WERETIGER, I didn't expect you to bathe in it - sorry for not being more specific with my suggestion."
Mordecai, looking frustrated, turns his eyes to the ground and sighs.
Lilita appears to regain her composure and continues her rather long and twisting tale, "Sadly Master Maigrinstaff who I suspect to be the same sort of being as my Noble Monster was also absent not to be found at the Black Rose. I was informed that he was at his estate in the mountains attending to some sort of business. Anyway, my Noble Monster – “
Mordecai coughs.
“– used to be permitted to visit the Black Rose but evidently, he and Master Maigrinstaff had a bit of a falling out and he is no longer welcome there or the city for that matter having been exiled! So, it is my understanding that once Master Maigrinstaff learns of my Noble Monster's return to the city there will be a spot of trouble between them and perhaps their factions as well. I think they have factions, maybe, but I am a little unclear on that point or if they are factions or clans, but I would imagine it is something along those lines. But I could be mistaken as you can imagine that it was all a bit much to take in all at once! You know, my head was spinning a little and I was getting very sleepy. So, I a drew sigil on a wall of the Black Rose and made my way back home to my vardo wagon and feel asleep after such a trying day and night. Then Mordecai came to visit me, and I sought to bring him here to meet you when along the way we encountered Nicci from the Black Rose in the form of a tiger who seemly was rather upset and attacked us."
Mordecai goes slackjaw some.
Giving Livvi an innocent look Lilita shrugs, "For the life of me I don't know why she was so cross. I mean when I left her at the Black Rose, I had thought that we had hit it off very well and were akin to sisters. But Mordecai shooed her away, fortunately! So, no harm was done, so I forgive her."
Mordecai waves his hands in exasperation, saying, "Woah, woah, there is no way I'm buying that you think you two were akin to sisters. You goaded her in the alley asking her how frustrated did it feel for her not to be able to hunt you until she got permission?"
He quickly continues, "Livvi - have you any idea what's going on here? I'm pretty sure that Lilita is under-selling how dire her situation is."
Lilita looks around and coughs out a bit of ash and soot, "do you think that I could some water please? I am a bit parched."
Through all this Hamaron, half his family, and most of the guests and patrons sitting in the tap room of the Whispering Mane had fallen silent, infatuated by the drama and talk of Knights, Vampires, High Ladies, a mixture of awe and concern growing on their faces.
Livvi's eyes grow wider, and then narrower, as Lilita tells her tale and Mordecai interjects his edits. When the Grey Lady asks for some water, Livvi sees the rest of the tavern staring in awe and wonder at the trio. She blinks and realizes that she must get this under control somehow or risk starting a panic in the city that could result in riots and burned out quarters and the deaths of thousands. In the space of a few breaths she says, loudly, "Ah, my dear, that is EXACTLY the kind of story I am interested in writing into a new stage production. Look, you have everyone here enthralled by the mere outline sketches of the tale! Come, let's move to a more private room to discuss the script and costumes. Hamaron, a jug of water and a bottle of wine for us, please. We are not to be disturbed, or I will write you as the luckless fool who bumbles everything in the play!" She says in a pretend tone of mocking and command. Of course, she really means to keep everyone away... "Ladies and gentlemen, we hope that you will come out to see this production when we open in the spring!" She leads her two companions back to the private room where she and Lilita had waited for the Blackheart knight previously.
When they are in the room, with drinks poured and the door securely shut, Livvi bursts out, "By the goddesses' left tit, girl, how big of a mess have you gotten yourself into? Vampire clans at war, lycanthropes hunting you in the open streets, and your odd memory loss and obvious enchantment by this Lord Rakia Rezgui. And you mentioned a sigil that you drew at the Black Rose - what was it? What is its meaning? How can we take care of these problems so that we cannot die, or be turned into undead thralls, or cause everyone to burn the city to the ground?"
Lilita looks at Livvi and Mordecai, "I drew a picture of the sigil for Mordecai on a piece of parchment so he can show you what it looks like but to be honest it is all starting to take on a dream-like aspect and getting a bit fuzzy around the edges as time goes. It's an owl sigil but as to what exactly it means. Well, your guess is as good mine. I am sorry I cannot be more helpful, but I rushed here knowing how interested you were about all this and I just wanted to repay you for helping me before figuring that you would know what to do with the information."
Mordecai, somewhat disinterestedly, takes the drawing out for Livvi to review, then folds it back up and places it back in his pack.
Lilita takes a long drink of water and looks down at her feet, then looks shyly back turns to Mordecai... and Livvi, "yes Mordecai, I am seeking out my Noble Monster but I have my reasons and no doubt he is looking for me as well, at least I hope so. Thank you both for protecting me, I appreciate your efforts, but my fight isn't your fight. Those at the Black Rose do not know about Livvi so she has nothing to fear from them, nor do you, Mordecai, Nicci was only interested in me, not you. But the Noble Monster has taken a fancy to Livvi so that is another matter, but I will try to talk to him again and do what I can to convince him to leave her alone. Besides, he will have other, more pressing problems to worry about other than Livvi. In any event, I am content to deal with my own situation myself, no need to put yourselves at risk for me."
"Oh, for the love of...." Mordecai starts, "you need to stop calling this creature "noble monster" and just call him by his name - Rezgui, was it? Part of dealing with such troubling issues is accepting them for what they are. Infantilizing the way, you're doing will only give them more power over you. You've a tougher spirit than you know - you are not acting like the woman that heals the sick of her community without thought of your safety. Don't let these creatures erode your resolve." Mordecai, off his soapbox so to speak, carelessly takes a seat - like a person tired after a long day.
After listening to their additional details, Livvi says, "OK. I have a friend that needs to hear all of this. We usually meet at a little café in the Merchant's quarter called the Witches Brew. Look for the green-haired server - her name is Nephele and you once healed her wrist, Lilita - and ask for me. If I am not there I will be shortly. Because I am, in fact, currently working as a crier for the Lion."
Mordecai rouses a bit, having lost interest for a bit seemingly in favor of some self-reflection. He asks, "Nephele is the one you want us to meet or is she simply your host, keeping us company until you arrive? I can't imagine it's the server. Who are you introducing us to, Livvi?"
He looks up at the bard, "I've not survived this long by entering situations blind - although I admit today, I felt nearsighted."
Lilita frowns as she considers Livvi's request and replies, "I would rather not Mistress Livvi, but I guess, if you insist, alright then I will speak to your friend. The Witches Brew, you said in the Merchants quarter, I know it but never been inside so I will see you there then, later." Lilita turns and promptly walks out the door without another word.
"Not a wise one, is she? Creatures of the night are after her and off she storms into the early dusk of the evening," Mordecai comments to himself as much as to Livvi. He stands up, then continues speaking, saying, "We could just let her be and let the world have her. Although I suspect neither of us will do that - tonight at least."
He looks toward Livvi and suggests, "Perhaps you should offer her a room for tonight - I doubt she'll survive the trek back home. That Nicci character will be back... and with friends."
Mordecai heads out the door to catch up with Lilita. As he does, he calls back to Livvi, "So are you coming 'fey goddess' or are you worried that your divinity will be tested?”
Arcana/History/Religion: 17 Livvi studies the owl sigil closely, trying to determine if she had seen it before or knew anything about it. Things like this usually had some meaning associated with it, and the bard was very interested in finding out what this one represented. She’d recalled seeing several similar sigils and symbols during her studies but nothing exactly like the one Mordecai has shown. The cities history was deep as it was broad with so much lost, found, forgotten, remembered but remembered wrong, it was hard to know. Something about it though itched at the back of Livvi’s head. Like a faded memory lurking just out of sight.
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Jacob's story continues...
As he suspected, Holden found the quartermaster railing at a group of laborers who where loitering around several delivery wagons. Mostly, Kam was growling at how they were only s supposed to deliver the goods, not take the opportunity to case the nob’s grounds. Just get in, make the delivery of firewood, lumber, sawdust, and whatever else that had been ordered.
“…dolts! Tha Loridarie’s chamberlain was watching from a second-floor window when Delf an’ Vandarian here decided ta snoop around the townhouses’ larder.”
“Told ya Kam, I was only lookin’ for a drink of water. This ‘er’s hard work,” Delf complained as he slapped a half-loaded wagon. “Too much like honest work, too.”
As Kam and Delf went on arguing, grumbling and growling at each other’s, Jacob tentatively approached Zam and exchanged with him what he thought would pass as a knowing glance. "Ah, Quartermaster." Holden crossed his dark leather clad arms before his chest, shoulders kind of close to his neighbor "While these two dolts figure out who's done what ****up, I need an upgrade. Deposit's just been made with the upstairs lady, and I'm good for about a hundred coins, plus future incoming..."
Kam grunted and nodded. “Understood. What’d you have in mind, Holden?”
Jacob opened his gloved palm and started counting the stuff on his fingers "I need a left handed knuckle duster to pair up with my blackjack, a lightweight window-hook for my rope, and something more resistant than the leather I'm currently wearing, but it can't impede my sneaking." Holden paused, then added with a grimace "-Kinda nervous from all these floobs and kooks out and about lately."
A raised eyebrow was the quartermaster’s response. After a moment the man gestured, ‘follow’ and headed towards one of the doors leading into the lower levels.
As they walked Kam asked, “Cities full of kooks, but I get the impression you’ve had a run in with some of the kookier.”
Holden answered in a slightly clipped manner "You bet. The extra kooky kind." This could go two ways, Jacob reasoned; he was about to get some hand me downs of an arrested pad-foot, or maybe the Quartermaster wanted some peace & quiet away from the courtyard buzz and would give him something proper straight out of the complexes' more secluded vaults.
They came to an iron bound door with a large lock. The quartermaster pulled out a key and let them into the guild houses’ main armory. Once a series of storerooms used to store turpentine and other wood-based byproducts, the armory was just that. A large depository of all things lethal and defensive. Kam led Jacob past Danken, a retired fighter and guild enforcer turned armorer. Danken glance up briefly from a set of throwing knives he was sharpening and nodded.
Holden nodded back respectfully. Danken and his armory were a time-honored guild institution in and of themselves.
“I’ve got a nice selection of knuckle wear,” Kam was saying as he came to a series of dark wood storage bins. Pausing in thought, a frown on his face, Kam looked at Jacob. “I’ve heard some…rumors, myself. There was an attack on a tavern wench I know last night. She was blathering about vampires, too, before they took her off to the Black Rose for healing. Perhaps it’s just kooks, like you say. The big festival brings ‘em out every year, or so I’ve noticed…still.”
Reaching into the back of one of the bins the quartermaster pulled out a red cloth and unwrapped it to reveal a pair of tarnished silver knuckle busters shaped like owls. Tiny emeralds were embedded in the owl’s eyes, gleaming in the light of the armory.
Holden, with the instinct of a thieving magpie, couldn't possibly resist a lean in and hover "If Quartermaster wouldn't be offering these for rent, I would have to steal them, this is some dapper looking hardware!"
“There’s a bit more to ‘em,” Kam said and slid one on. Moving over to where some stuffed target dummies were stored the quartermaster hit one with a quick jab, sending a short burst of white lightning arcing into the dummy. “I know your keen on avoiding doing lethal damage if you can. These fire off some sort of stunning magic a couple times a day.”
Jacob slipped one on himself, testing the grip and deftly hitting the air a couple of times "Killing's bad for business. Except for when killing IS the business. Luckily it isn't and hasn't been for a long time at the Garnet Hands, and I would do my best to honor that tradition." Holden glanced thoughtfully at Danken, the man came from a very different time, those violent times where people like his own father, and with him the Night Stalkers of Tarantis, came into power. "I guess I'll have to kill somebody just to afford interest on these, will I?" Jacob half seriously jokes.
Kam waved off the mention of cost. “We know your good for it. ‘sides, sooner or later you’ll find other weaponry worth donating to the guild, I don’t doubt. Besides, blood sucking kook’s warrant something extra.”[knuckle dusters (+1); Magical; Silver; Shocking Grasp x3/day]
Holden kept one of the magnificent pair, and disappeared it into a pocket of his, very near where he stored the wooden vial and its deadly contents. He left his hand cupped over that particular pocket, as if wary of what it contained. "And what about something to protect this latest guild investment?"
“I’ve given that some thought, too.” The man said as he led Jacob into an adjacent room. Armor of all sizes and sorts lined the walls and hung from numerous posts. Moving towards the back, Kam found what he was looking for. Hanging on a hook is a knee length leather coat made of hand tooled hide of some sort. Taking it down Kam points to an attached hood with a built in half mask.
“Used to belong to a fellow guild member. It’s reversible.” As he spoke Kam flipped one sleeve inside out, showing a grease and dirt stained, worn looking gray. “Has a double advantage of blending into the fog and mists. Has a half dozen hidden pockets and” – he jabs a finger into the softer grey side where it stopped suddenly – “Elfin links, very small and fine fit. Looks to be your size, too.” He holds it out. [Non magical, master work (AC 13) +1 Stealth]
Holden drew in a quick breath and flexed his abdominal muscles, holding up the piece of tight kit right in front of him "And how lucky that is, too. I'll have to give up breakfast sausages only to keep fitting." Jacob was not a small man by any means, in another life he could've very well been in Danken's shoes. Not a word was wasted on the former owner of this fine piece of equipment, and some stains that might have been from a bloody origin. Such were the ways. "I'd be best on my way now; I've dilly-dallied enough as it is with you taffing lot." Muffled laughs were heard in the armories' dank darkness, then a door of light opened to the world waiting back outside.
<><><><><><><>
Lilita's story continues...
Time passed, not so much that she lost complete tract of it but enough so that it might have been a few minutes or an hour as she sat, kneeling before the painting. Now and then it seemed to fade as the light waxed, only to brighten again. Between tears Lilita notices a small, silver plaque fixed to the bottom part of the picture frame.
Anilia…
Lilita, drying her tears stares up at the silver plaque reading the name aloud then casts a Prestidigitation spell on it and the entire painting itself to magically clean away years of accumulated dust that could be concealing more letters in the name, or possibly a family name, or a date.
Taking a small step back Lilita patiently looks on as the spell does its work as she also casts a Light spell on the Healer's Guild Signet Ring, she wears to provide needed illumination as she moves about. When the Prestidigitation spell has cleaned away all the dust, Lilita closely re-examines the plaque and the painting itself to see if anything new has been revealed as well as check to see if the artist who painted it left a signature.
It took awhile but she found a scribbled signature, very finely drawn in light green: Casmial Orseran.
The more Lilita stares at the painting the more a host of thoughts and possibilities race through her fevered mind making her even more determined to do whatever it takes to solve this mystery. Lilita's heart pounds with excitement convinced that there is a connection between herself and Anilia... believing that she bears a resemblance to the woman which piques her curiosity and spurs her hopes that Anilia might be her mother or a close relative, her imagination running wild as she struggles to contain her growing excitement. Planning in her mind to search the whole house... from top to bottom even if it takes her all night!
Looking around, Lilita is very surprised that the front doors had been left unlocked and amazed that the house has not been vandalized or its contents removed (stolen). Everything seems to have been left exactly in place, and with the exception of the cobwebs and dust, the house seems frozen in time. This leads her to suspect there could be a caretaker, a guard dog or something else that keeps away thieves and trespassers so she will be careful and watchful for someone or something that could appear while she investigates the house and its contents. As she moves about another thought crosses her mind, the house itself could be cursed or haunted and that is what could be keeping unwanted visitors away!
The last idea sends a chill down Lilita's spine, she does not wish to desecrate this place or to offend any spirits but it’s too important for her to know if there is indeed a connection between herself, the house and its previous occupants.
Her meeting at the Witches Brew forgotten for the moment her eyes drifted around the poorly lit parlor. Furnishings and bric-a-brac were everywhere, sure indications that the residence’s sanctity had not been violated by the determined or the desperate, as often happens to uninhabited buildings within the city. Still, cobwebs are everywhere, as is layers of dust decades deep. Nearby is a small glass lamp with a handle. A quick check shows that it is partially filled with oil. Beside the lamp a small, silver open toped container holds half a dozen sure-fire matches. Expensive little sticks of an exotic wood coated with an alchemy powder that turns to flame when struck against an abrasive surface.
As Lilita searches the parlor for clues she will examine the bric-a-brac closely picking each one up, inspecting and turning each over to look for any names or messages possibly engraved which might provide a clue of some kind.
The owl in disguise that had led her here qorked and muttered reassuringly before sailing over to land on her shoulder once more. The other two seemed content to remain perched outside, atop the open doors.
Seeing the owl-crow join her inside Lilita smiles when it once more comes to rest on her shoulder, providing her some measure of comfort and a sense that she is not entirely alone. She talks to it, "is this place home to my kin, my family? Is that why you brought me here? I cannot leave here until I have searched all of it... for clues. I need to know who used to live here, who owns it now, why it is empty... whatever that could help me understand all this... even if takes all night and day, and next day if necessary," she cries her voice wavering, filled with strong emotion, excitement and confusion.
Finally noting that she left the front door open Lilita walks up to it and looks at the two crows perched on the doors, "if you please, inside or outside as you prefer. I need to close the door and lock or bar it if possible so I don't get surprised by someone that might see my light or something."
“Door!” croaks one; “Door?” croaks the second; the one on her shoulder croaks, “Out!”
The other two mutter than hop off the doors and disappear into the garden, their actions causing the doors to swing shut effortlessly.
The owl-crow occasionally muttered or shifted on her shoulder as she drifted from room to room, lingering here, hurrying there, almost a ghost in her wanderings. A grey lady indeed. Most of the rooms were of the sort she had always envisioned a modestly wealthy family would own. Most were typical of a townhouse. Passing into a room that held a large dining table but could, if cleared, serve as a respectable room for hosting parties. At one end a massive fireplace of imported stone covers one wall. Above the mantel hangs the remains of a large portrait. Something had torn the canvas so badly on a few tatters remained, hanging from the cracked and scarred frame.
Lilita walks slowly up to examine the tattered remains of the portrait talking to the owl-crow perched on her shoulder, "everything so far in the house seems untouched, undamaged, so why this one thing? Why this painting and not another? What happened here that caused the occupants to abandon such a beautiful and cozy home." She climbs up on a chair to reach the painting examining the cracked and scarred frame closely also looking for a plaque with a name like the other painting had.
All the while wondering how it had been damaged, had someone taken a blade to it? The damage seems to Lilita to have been caused by someone angered or enraged at the subject of the painting trying to erase him or her from the history of the house, to remain forever unknown and unseen??? How very sad and tragic, she thinks...
If there had been a plaque it had been ripped away. She found a discoloration and small holes suggesting that there had been one. One of the top pieces was partially blue, the same color of a familiar turban though there wasn’t enough remaining to make it certain.
Carefully, treating the painting very gently Lilita attempts to take it down placing it on an open area of the floor where she tries to arrange the tattered bits and pieces like puzzle pieces to determine if possible, who the subject of the painting may have been. Checking about in and around the fireplace Lilita searches for any missing or discarded pieces as well as a plaque that may have been torn off and discarded. When complete, she climbs back up on the chair and looks down at her work spread out on the floor to ponder it further.
There hadn’t been many, and she had found evidence in the fireplace to suggest that the largest portion of the missing canvas had been burned, probably during the same incident that had defaced the portrait. There just wasn’t enough remaining to be certain.
Lilita looks down sad and more than a little disappointed but then she had expected that there were just not enough pieces left to provide answers but still, she had to try her best.
Continuing her search Lilita became acutely aware of places, here and there, that were missing something. Items that had been removed and never replaced. One spot in the main hallway at the top of the stairs showed a large, faded spot in the painted wall. About to walk past something glittering in the dark catches her eyes. A shard of glass about the size of her smallest finger. A soulless eye appeared in the shard, staring back at her.
Lilita, unafraid, reaches out and runs her hand slowly over the faded spot on the wall feeling its surface looking at this closely wondering if a mirror or another painting hung there. Then she carefully reaches down, and gently picks up the shard of glass and examines it closely wondering what it was, a shard of a mirror or something else???
“Mirror, mirror!” muttered the crow, his reflection appearing in the mirrored shard again.
Lilita gives the crow a sad smile and repeats the crow's words, "mirror, mirror," as she holds the shard tightly, she continues to speaks to the crow, "something very tragic occurred here, I feel so sorry for everyone involved." Keeping the shard, still holding it in her hand Lilita continues to explore and investigate the house looking for a desk in an alcove or even a small room that could a study or even a library that may contain documents or papers relating to the occupants or owners of the house.
At the top of the staircase a hallway ran in both directions than angled towards the back of the house. The first door she came too was closed. As she glanced at it she felt the crow-owl-bird grip her shoulder tighter as if in anticipation.
Lilita sensing the bird's anticipation she starts to feel a bit apprehensive, even a little nervous as she slowly reaches out and opens the door to see for herself what lies inside the room.
Beyond the door lie a nursery. Even in the poor lighting the walls are colorful, splashed with pink and red flowers and scenes of whimsical fancy. Cobwebs hang from a pink crib in the corner, next to a padded rocking chair. Several small chests of drawers lined another wall, along with a small table. Toys lay about, as if only abandoned yesterday. There was a lingering love in the room, something that defied explanation.
Lilita looks about in awe and wonder before at last speaking to crow, "is this my home then, my nursery? I don't remember anything, so how can I know for sure this isn't the home of some other lost child." After searching through the room and its contents Lilita beings to grow tired and confused but still so very hopeful sensing the lingering love in the room that makes her feel as if she has somehow found her way home Lilita walks over and sits down in the padded rocking chair to take a short nap to rest hoping that when she awakens that things might more clear to her and she can continue searching the rest of the house.
Home
“Home” croaked the bird.
<><><><><><>
Arphaxad's Story Begins... (Part 1)
Arphaxad shakes the thick stuffing free of his senses. When the guild masters sent him forward to learn and explore, he knew it would be something…different that what he was used too. An ancient gate had been found and the means of activating its arcane power divined. Several volunteers had been pushed forward, given orders to step through, try to determine the where and when of the gate, then return.
He had happily volunteered for the dangerous mission. Sampling the changes of his modifications had been interesting, but now he had grown slightly jaded. His work was... stagnant. So many things had already been discovered. All that remained was to discuss the implications. Such conversations bored him.
The far side of the gate had opened into a large, well made chamber of marble covered walls. Beneath his feet are a series of arcane runes and some sort of casting boundary. Beyond a ring of glowing blue light set into the floor around him the chamber has several smaller chambers and a hint of a set of stairs leading up just around the corner of the side chamber on the left. Each corner where the side chambers meet the main, torches burn, held in bronze looking human arms and hands.
The appearance of the chamber was... alien. The runes were vaguely familiar, but as through a warped viewing glass, the meaning lost or unlike what he could have guessed. He clutched his staff in his hand and peered about.
So many things to question. Why were torches lit, waiting? Was this chamber in regular use? Had he ended up in some strange experimenter’s laboratory? And what lay beyond the stairs?
And obviously this realm had some sort of humanoid being. The arms were unlikely to have developed on a non-humanoid body. Only so much could be learned by watching the flames. Without more equipment, he could do nothing. So, he set off toward the stairs to get out, his keen eyes piercing the darkness better than when he had been merely human.
The first test was passing over the glowing circle surrounding the summoning floor. For many this was a barrier or a prison, embedded and empowered to prevent one from gaining unfettered access to the world beyond. Often such barriers were the only means to keep Demons, devil’s and creatures of chaos from killing the summoner and reeking further havoc. In his case, the potency or purpose of the barrier was in doubt since he entered the circle via an existing gate.
At the touch of his staff there was a slight flare as the blue increased, then settled down again. It did nothing to impede his process, however. The barrier magic could serve other purposes though.
Fortunately, the Hybrid was prepared. He dug in his pouches for components and muttered the arcane words to help him identify the basic nature of the spell.
A brief gathering of power occurred in the side chamber on his left where a dimensional door was opening.
With a gate opening, he had no way of knowing what was going to come through. All he could accomplish in the time he had was to grip his staff in a defensive manner and wait to see who or what came through.
Outsteps a tall, slender human wearing deep blue robes and carrying a obsidian staff. A man of middle age (though that was hard to be sure of since Arphaxad knew nothing of this world) with a bald head and neatly trimmed goatee. The man’s smile was more curious than amused. He made a short gesture in front of himself and Arphaxad assumed it was to enact some protective magics.
“Greetings traveler, welcome to my humble abode,” says the man, a wizard by the looks and feel of him, “it is uncommon for anything to enter the Fascrade Intihil unbidden.”
“Fascrade Intihil? That sounds like an unfamiliar place. Is it somewhere on Ravnica, by any chance?”
A look of surprise briefly crosses the mans face. “Ravnica…I have visited, once. A world like this one many, many countless miles across the cosmos of the prime material. A traveler perhaps?”
“I am a researcher seeking information on an artifact that was recently discovered. It led us to the gateway that, apparently, leads here. My intent is not hostile, nor has its nefarious purpose. I seek only knowledge.”
Stepping closer the wizard nods, fingers lightly gripping his own staff. “So, it may be, or then, it might be something else. Truth is such a grey thing, it is, so how to test it? This” – he slowly gestures in such a way to show that he’s not casting at the summoning platform and circle Arphaxad stands upon – “is the Fascrade Intihil, a truly ancient, almost holy, place.” He shrugs, “I am loathe to refer to it as a magical device, since it is far more. Suffice to say, it is ancient, very ancient, from the last age, I believe. Well, the last age of this world, anyway. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Arch sage Khatri and this is, well, you already know. Truth, as I said, is a tricky thing but not to the Fascrade Inthihil. Simply cross the barrier and the truth will be known.”
An ancient truth-telling barrier? How could something so ancient be still in use? And how was it that the two obviously different worlds could have such identical tongues? So many things to learn. Apparently, if what this... Archsage... said was true, he had been a traveler to many worlds. And so long as he, himself could breach this barrier, the answers might be his.
Eager fingers danced delightedly on his nearly forgotten staff. Arphaxad couldn’t restrain his huge (for himself) grin. He stepped forward, confident that he was ready for this adventure.
As he stepped over the runes etched deeply into the floor of the Fascrade Inthihil he knew he was passing through a complex series of magical wards. Many were completely alien to him, so were their purposes but others, his mind analyzed, were like those used by some clerical faiths to determine alignment, elements, and perhaps, metaphysical energy. Had he been of pure evil, perhaps from the Demon or Devil essence, or something similar in vein his passage would have been, at the least, prevented. At the worse, the magical wards might have caused lasting harm in repelling his attempt.
While the action was almost immediate there was a lingering effect that considerable time had passed. Or, perhaps, time itself had adjusted around and through him. It wasn’t unheard of, that some planes of the multiverse existed out of sync with others.
Though it was only a few steps down to the chamber floor the passage had made it feel like Arphaxad had come to the end of a great journey…or, the first steps of an even greater one. Khatri stood there, a knowing look on his face, neither smiling nor frowning.
“I still recall my first passage through the Fascrade Inthihil,” he said. “Of course, the ancient magics embedded in the artifact cannot determine what is in a thinking floobs soul, nor separate evil intent from good, not in the darkest reaches of our minds. There are so many mysteries embedded within that one lifetime is not enough to truly delve into them. So, welcome traveler. I cannot say rather or not the return passage to your place and time in the multiverse is back through this place, as one of the properties of the Fascrade Inthihil is to draw to it astral, shadow, and primal translocation magics incoming targeting this world so that the travelers they contain can be vetted. Most leave through other means, but not all. I myself have travelled to many planes of existence, to many worlds within the prime material and to times that were, that are, and that maybe.”
“I appreciate the candor and enlightenment,” the Hybrid murmured sincerely. “Some find delight in withholding knowledge, but I feel differently. At least, so long as the knowledge is not harmful.” He pauses, then continues ahead. “I assume you don’t generally linger in this place without cause... Have you plans that involve me?”
Khatri gestures with a hand towards the chamber on the left where a series of plush chairs could be seen. “A few libations, a few exchanges of words and then I will show you to the world above, if that is your wish, or you may try to return through the Fascrade Inthihil to your home.”
Not unfamiliar with the concept of pleasantries or societal niceties, Arphaxad spreads his lips in a smile. “I wouldn’t be opposed to a light repast. As I am sure you know, that little journey seems to leave a traveler feeling depleted.” As far as leaving, I have only just arrived. I’m sure I would appreciate your guidance to the surface.” Barely restrained excitement raced through his veins. A whole world to see. His tread was light.
As Arphaxad moves further away from the steps he becomes aware of a half dozen metal statues standing just out of view of the artifact. Golems, he muses, or something similar. Khatri answers the unspoken: “The whole Chamber of the Cosmos is designed to defend against anything entering the Fascrade Inthihil. The transcripts are full of warnings and case examples of such intrusions and while it is impossible to predict every possibility it is my order’s purpose to try.”
Information nudged about within the pale blue skull. Pieces of the puzzle fit neatly together, a satisfying feeling washing through him. This sage was a protector, some form of battle mage, and an entire organization of them existed. Certainly, if such was present there was cause. What sort of treasure did this world hold? Rare minerals? Vast plains of arable land? His bet was that this world held valuable and rare artifacts and relics. “Well, I am sure you and your order are up to the challenge, and I intended to avoid becoming a threat.”
The man gives a chuckle as he gestures to a chair before pausing to pick up a small hammer and lightly tap a crystal bell. If there was a sound, it was beyond Arphaxad’s range of hearing, that or it sounded in some other place.
“As to your question about my presence, I knew you were coming, well, that someone was coming anyway some time ago,” he says cryptically. Resting his staff against the side of a chair Khatri settles into the next one over. Just then a beautiful woman with vivid green hair strides in, carrying a silver platter with two glasses and matching crystal decanter as well as a number of bowls holding a mixture of finger foods.
“Ah, Mershri, thank you. Please, set it on the table,” he says, gesturing to the small circular table centered before the chairs. To Arphaxad he says, “This is Mershri, an apprentice within the order and a promising sage.”
Arphaxad nods politely to the woman. “A pleasure, I’m sure. Such a melodic name, Mershri. I am grateful for the repast you have so graciously provided.”
“You are most kind, Lord Traveler,” Mershri says, giving a slight curtsey before leaving. Khatri picks up the decanter and pours a clear liquid into each glass. “Since we didn’t know what to expect, species wise, it was thought that iced water the best. Distilled, I promise. I have had a few bouts of…ah, discomforts, from sampling beverages during jaunts myself.”
Less than graceful fingers pluck at the glass. His transformations had robbed him of many of his previous human characteristics, including genuine phalanges. As time continued to pass, the changes continued. Currently he seemed to have an extra flex in his hands and callouses had begun to blossom in regular paired discs along each ‘finger.’
“Water is fine,” he murmured. In truth, he rarely partook in spirits anymore. Since his transformation, alcohol affected him more than it used to. Being told that it had been distilled was a surprise. His home, the world city of Ravnica, enjoyed such amenities anywhere civilization wasn’t deliberately avoided. It hadn’t even occurred to him that it might not be readily available here.
“What lies above? I’m afraid I haven’t the experience in traveling that you enjoy.” Arphaxad tilted his head slightly. “Is it a city of some size, or are we in a rural area?”
“The city above is the great City State of Tarantis, third largest and oldest on our world. It is also a focal point of the cosmic highway it seems, and thus a study of the ages for various sage orders such as my own. There’s no complete list of gateways and portals within the city or the surrounding provinces that I am aware of, as many seem to come and go, or work only at certain times or under special circumstances. Other’s are linear, only one direction or linking to one place in time and plane. This has its advantages; I am sure you’ll understand. My family takes certain liberties, as do others, where such permanence and reliability are placed, by conducting trade in exotic goods, artifacts, knowledge, etc.”
The Hybrid nodded appreciatively as he fumbled for a cut vegetable stick. He hoped he’d redevelop his previous dexterity soon. “I certainly look forward to getting to experience this worlds unique culture.” The vegetable was used as an impromptu pointer as he spoke, before he turned it into his meal. Before taking another bite, he asked “I am not an experienced traveler, so could you enlighten me as to any laws or customs that I might not anticipate?”
“I would need to ask a few questions, I fear. Beginning with, what exactly are you? It is obvious that you are blended in some manner. Warforged perhaps? I am not a study of transmutations or similar magics but I know that they exist.”
This question came as somewhat of a surprise to Arphaxad. Yet another example of cultural differences. “I am a Hybrid, a voluntary participant in an experimental transformation. Our Guild, the Simic Combine, is dedicated to research. The idea is that by fusing the abilities of animals with humans, elves or Vedalken, we can be ideally suited to environmental extremes. My adaptations draw primarily from aquatic life, but it is difficult to know what will develop.” He selected a small triangular sandwich and was pleasantly surprised by the taste. “The science is still in early stages of use among intelligent beings, although creatures have been subjects for some time.”
Khatri looks thoughtful as he listens, then remains silent for a few moments as he appeared to be mulling over what Arphaxad had said.
He chewed slowly as he watched the Archsage process this. He was unfamiliar with the word Warforged, but it could have possibly described the Hybrids. Soldiers able to act easily in different environments were invaluable and difficult to find. Easier to create then for the purpose. Of course, while he was a researcher first, he knew something about battle magic.
“In my travel’s I have witnessed similar processes. Some are magically induced, others, with the aid of healing magics are physical alterations. There are some where organics are grafted onto a host, willing or not. This is quite close to how Warforged are created. We practice a variant of this on this world, typically on warriors who have suffered grievous wounds that taxes the healing magics of our priests. In some cases, such augmentation is sought out to gain abilities or strength, but it is less common. I have visited a few fantastical worlds where technology is the resident magic. Very strange places, those, yet full of marvels. I have a few tokens of such things in my display cases at home.”
“I am a member of the more proactive half of my Guild. We believe that there is a pressing need for improvement, in ourselves and in the natural world.” Arphaxad cocked his head. “I would be interested in witnessing some of the natural and naturally enhanced wonders of this world...”
“Please, if it’s not broaching some etiquette on your world, could you tell me if members of your guild would be averse to conducting trade. I and several of my associates are in league with a number of merchant houses that traverse the multiverse, conducting trade. While some artifacts and exotic goods may not transfer via the Fascrade Inthihil or other portals we know of, much will.”
Arphaxad's Story Begins... (Part 2)
The Hybrid hesitated, trying to find a way to express the thoughts of the Guild. “We are not a guild in the sense that a mercantile organization is. We are a Guild, part of the governing body of our world city. We do not act for gain but the survival of the world as a whole.” He held the last bite of a forgotten tidbit in his hand as he continued.
“Our aim is for the coexistence of our civilization and the natural world. Adaptation is necessary for all, but mechanical artifice is not our way. I cannot speak for certain that no trade is possible, but it would be of a limited nature when with our numbers.”
It was evident even with the altered nature of his features that Arphaxad was disinclined to continue, but he did so anyway. “There are merchants aplenty in Ravnica. The Orzhov Syndicate is a Guild in both respects. We are not in any way allies; our goals are quite different. Antithetical even. I cannot speak for them nor have I any dealings with them to aid in contacting them. But I can assure you that if you find Ravnica and have something they find merit in; a meeting is inevitable.”
“Yes, I can understand that, but I hope you’ll forgive me, I am obligated to ask. A large part of the business of Tarantis is trade, both on this world and across the multiverse. It is how we found or organization and help to maintain a defense of as many portals like, and unlike, the Fascrade Inthihil.” Khatri said. “As for the city, I wish I could say that everyone will embrace you with open arms but like most places, ignorance and superstition abound though you shouldn’t be openly challenged. Still, you may find some places and floobs in them will be distrustful. A few other things I feel compelled to share. Because of the city’s geographical location at the head of a deep bay, the nights are often foggy. This can reduce visibility to a few steps (yards) at best. Combined with the darkness that is often the rule, there are places within the city that are not unlike travelling in the depths. Care should be taken, least you run afoul of thugs or worse.”
“But it is not all dark and gloom,” the arch sage said with a smile. “In fact, we are but two days from the beginning of the festival of silver. A full five-day of festivities, masquerades, parties, and reverie. Visitors from across the world and beyond are descending on the city. I believe this will work in your favor as between the exotic visitors and the sometimes-gaudy costumes affected by our citizens it should work to lesson cultural shock. For them, anyway. For you, well you will be your own judge of that, I would think.”
A party wasn’t the reason the researcher had agreed to test the device from the Izzets. In fact, Arphaxad wasn’t sure what he would do with a festival, but if it allowed him to travel unmolested, he would use the advantage. “Thank you for the advice,” He murmured.
“Do you have any questions I might be able to answer? If not, I have taken enough of your valuable time and am willing to show you to a decent inn from which you may begin your exploration.”
“In fact, I have one. I do not wish to be accused of counterfeiting money... will my coinage work here, or must I make some sort of exchange?”
The arch sage nodded in understanding. “There are many money changers in the various quarters within the city as for coins from your world I suspect that you might have some issues using the directly. The standard for Tarantis is based upon the local monarchy. Copper bits, silver and gold crowns, electrum and platinum crows. Each monarch has a variation of his visage stamped onto new coinages while older coin is still accepted. Monies from foreign city states and distant lands, such as ‘The Land beneath Two Moons’ has an exchange rate that is set by the Ministry of Treasury though some inflation is known. If your coinage is based upon similar valuable metals a moneylender can weigh and value it.”
“I suppose I never considered that metals might be more or less common world to world... Hopefully my gold coins will have reasonable value here,” the man muttered. Back home, 10 such coins weren’t a fortune, but it would take time to acquire more. Thankfully he had most of what he might need in the immediate future. Still... “Perhaps if you could recommend a trustworthy money exchange, it would help me adapt more smoothly...”
“Yes, of course,” replied Khatri as they climbed the stairs. “It has been my observation that of the base metals, silver, gold, platinum as well as gems retain some value in pretty much every realm, plane, or world but it’s never guaranteed.”
As he stood Khatri said, “When the time comes and you wish to try returning to your world via the Fascrade Inthihil, you may contact me, and I will endeavor to aid you if I am able.” He led Arphaxad to a stone staircase climbing upwards and in casual conversation, gave him an address within the Sage’s Quarter where the arch sage said he maintains his residence. There was a reference to a small but clean Inn near the gate leading from the sage quarter to the merchant’s quarter. Khatri had assured him that the proprietors were accustomed to hosting the more, exotic, visitors to the city.
Before he knew it, Arphaxad found himself standing alone outside of Cosmic Cart Café next to the entrance to someplace called Falcon Alley. The inn looked small from where he stands but clean and well kept. A short walk down a street labeled Sage’s Way, he spotted the gatehouse. As best he could gather the city was vast with ten official quarters, each walled in and gated from the others. In the other direction, towering over this portion of the city, was the Citadel of Knowledge. It was via a small, posterior gate that he and Khatri had entered the streets.
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Boo's story continues...
Out of a population numbered in the tens of thousands only a scan few can say they have seen the city from the air at night. Even at a hundred feet, Boo had to be conscious of the occasional tower poking up out of the swirling mess below. Some quarters were more lit than others, but all had patches of light scattered about. On the rare clear evening it was a spectacular sight, but on most nights, like this one, some might call the view eerie. The nightly mists were never consistent. In portions of the city, especially closer to the dock quarter and the bay, it was thick, like a blanket trying to smother a nest of fireflies. In other places the mist was nearly nonexistent, creating pockets of bright. The mists flowed and ebbed, following the major streets like moving rivers of darkness. Above the mists, the sky was clear and ablaze with star’s and two of the four rumored moons to exist encircling the world known as Miran.
Boo revels in the sights of the city below her, day or night the view is always spectacular, always something new to see or marvel at. Ever since Boo was a child, she felt that flying was a gift of the gods to her and those like her, nothing could compare with the rapture of flight. She flies on twisting and turning about playfully, savoring the sensation of flitting through the night air as she makes her way towards her destination.
Of course, even though the amount of fliers in relation to the landslugs below was extreme, it wasn’t so extreme that she was alone. Ignoring the owls, bats, night birds, flying cats and lizards flitting from place to place over the heads of the ignorant below there were other sentients, some quite dangerous if encountered in the wrong way. She pasted a small winged devil, intent on its master’s business, the beast leered at her but moved on without pausing for fun. At another point she saw a pair of masked men, she assumed, sail by on a flying carpet. Each was armed and all in black. One faceless mask turned her way, but they were past and soon disappeared into a lower bank of fog. Skirting the edge of the temple quarter, Boo was treated to a spectacle on top of the flat roof of the temple of the moon and stars. A revelry was underway, part celebration, part ritual, dozens of naked priests and priestesses intertwined, others dance naked in the light of the two moons above. Music drifted on the winds.
Even though the night can be dangerous for travelers, both above and below for Boo flying is always her preferred method of getting around the city. Still, this night seemed a bit busier than usual but no doubt with all the parties and festivities ramping up it is not surprising. Steering well clear of other night flyers Boo did find herself rather envious of the men with the flying carpet, that is something that one doesn't see every day.
Reaching the temple quarter Boo finds herself irresistibly drawn to the rooftop spectacle, captived by the hedonistic revelers as she struggles not to give in to the temptation to crash the celebration and join in on the fun! Boo, however, does circle the rooftop for another peek noting the temple's location hoping her little task would not take too long and that perhaps she might check back on her return flight and join the party. Sadly, she just can just not afford to take the risk of losing the package.
After circling once, Boo lets out a disappointed groan, grumbling to herself about the life of a poor working girl she continues towards the Poor Quarter and the Eight Star Bar.
One downside to flight, especially at night with the fog’s and mists was the lack of street signs or the smaller landmarks that most floobs on foot used to negotiate the labyrinth of streets, lanes, and alleys. This might have presented a problem to another flyer but in her ceaseless pursuit of fun and frivolity, Boo had been to most of the bars, taverns, inns, and fleshpots in the city. The Eight Star was well known as this was not her first delivery to Lep, nor was business the only reason she’d frequented the establishment.
Spiraling down, Boo entered the mist, feeling the cooler moisture caressing her skin. From previous visits, she knew to expect a rooftop guard. One armed with a crossbow was usual. While fliers were rare, they weren’t unknown as previously established though the majority of floobs the guards were paid to watch for used the rooftops of the city like a second set of streets. Mostly nefarious sorts, but there were adventurers and others who did so as well.
Boo gracefully lands on the rooftop, her wings folding up behind her. She pauses for a moment to get her bearings, her long barbed tail moving back and forth as she takes in her surroundings.
A tall, bearded guard in heavy leathers glanced upwards sharply. When he didn’t immediately challenge her or warn her off Boo got the impression that the man had been keyed into someone’s visit via air. A professional, the guard’s crossbow had come up, but he hadn’t brought it to his shoulder or positioned it to fire. He looked as if he wanted to speak but the man’s mouth was hanging open as he stared at her lithe form, graceful wings, then seemed glued to somewhere below her eyes.
Boo, enjoying the guard's stare flashes him a seductive smile, "heya pooh-bear, arn't you just a cutie, can I keep you?" Her voice, silky smooth and honey sweet.
“I, ah” – he stammered, becoming flustered and red faced – “I, ah – “
As he stammers for a response Boo slowly approaches him and reaches upwards to run her delicate manicured fingernails lightly over his leather armored chest, "oh my, it’s a pity I have an appointment with Lep, so I am just going to have to put you on my to do list, how does that sound?"
Mouth still gaping, the man made a hesitant gesture towards a hatch in the low-pitched roof leading downward.
Looking in the direction of the hatch, Boo giggles and extends a hand just a little further up to playfully tap his right cheek with her open palm, "thank you kindly pooh-bear," then turns and walks up to hatch and starts to make her way down but not before pausing long enough to blow a kiss back at the guard.
At the bottom of the steep set of stairs leading up to the Eight Star’s roof stood a wizened looking human, his face full of wrinkles. A short-cropped beard white as snow covered most of his face, including his mouth. He might have smiled but she couldn’t be sure. Dressed in plain, inexpensive clothing, the man leaned on a polished dark wood cane.
She had seen the man around the tavern before. Jaken Corabain was some sort of Chamberlin meets butler for Lep. Doing odd jobs and minding the busy tavern (and guild master’s) schedule. Whenever she got close enough to the old man, who had to be nearing ninety in human years, her nose picked up an undefinable itch. Something about him oozed power, far more power than what his plain, unassuming old geezer appearance suggested. There was something else, too. Perhaps it was his cologne, or maybe magic, or, perhaps, it was something emulating from the man, whatever it is, it dialed up her already luscious mind.
Boo's tail twitches with excitement savoring the sensation she is feeling while in the withered old man's presence. As well, Boo is enough of a bad girl to easily be tempted by the trappings of wealth and power, among other things. Then there is the added bonus that older gentlemen tend to be more generous and appreciative with their paramours. But this was more than a puerile attraction to an older man she thought as she offered her hand to him.
Mischief sparkled in the old man’s eyes as he bowed and lightly kissed the back of her hand. The contact sent a wicked surge through her core, teasing her erogenous zones something terribly. “It is always a pleasure to have you stop by, Lady Belfrye, mmmm, yes. A pleasure.”
Boo smiles at him, a twinkle in her blue eyes barely able to control herself when he makes physical contact with her. A low whimper of pleasure escapes her rose-colored lips as she struggles to maintain her composure her voice trembling as she responds, "please call me Boo, my mother is Lady Belfrye and I am not one to stand on ceremony." She gives him a coy, seductive grin adding, "a shared pleasure then."
“Surely but you brighten an old man’s evening, yes,” he replies with a wink. “Master Staxx is waiting in his office. Shall I escort you?”
"Yes, please do, I always appreciate your company," her curiosity piqued, with each step, Boo found herself wanting to get know more about this mysterious unassuming man she had until now paid little attention to. As they walked side by side the Tiefling subtly inched closer to him lightly brushing up against him. Her thoughts racing as she could not help but wonder what sort of things he might enjoy. Was he like Vizzini too old, or too frail to partake and content merely to watch or might he be more capable than he appears?
Every light tap of her tightly garbed hip against his sent a light, teasing jolt through her. Where his long, slender, age colored fingers lay against hers her skin was on fire, the sort of fire that sparked one’s insides, encouraging heat to grow in other, more intimate places. If he had been a bronzed Adonis of extreme wealth and power it would make more sense to her slightly flustered mind, which said something. Boo shared more than her racial heritage with her mother’s side of the clan. During her teens she recalls one of her favorite stories that her mother used to like to gush about. That there was the blood of Succubae in their clan, only a few generations ago.
Boo smiles to herself thinking that whatever his secret she would eventually get to the bottom of it. For now, she is content to savor the sweet sensations and leave it for another time.
Reaching a heavy oak door, he lets go of her arm, turns and bows respectfully. “You have given an old man a moment of rare serenity La…Boo,” he says. “Lep is expecting you though I doubt that he’s prepared for such beauty and exotic grace.”
Boo meets Jaken's gaze as he lets go of her arm and bows, "oh, have I? I am gratified to know that I have you provided you with some small measure of satisfaction. If you should wish to experience a greater measure of sweet serenity, then you might consider a private dinner together some evening. I think I can promise that you will not be disappointed! Some of my lovers have even expressed that the rapture I provide is well worth dying for. As for your master Lep, we shall see, I can only hope that I do not disappoint."
He gave a knowing smile then walked off with the sureness of a much younger man.
The moment her hand touches the door’s handle it opened, and she found a grinning (almost leering) Lep Stax. “Ahh, I was expecting you Boosandie, please, come in,” the tavern owner and secret guild master said, opening the door further.
Once inside Boo flashes a seductive smile and gives Lep a polite and respectful curtsey, "I do apologize if I have kept you waiting long," she says sweetly as she gracefully glides up to the powerful guild master. Pressing herself against his chest, her arms open giving him a warm embrace before she tenderly brushes her lips lightly against his cheek.
“Can I have anything brought up from the bar for you?” The man asks as he closes the door behind her.
Boo casually moves deeper into the chamber and takes a seat, "yes, a glass of wine would be nice, thank you."
With a smile Stax went over to a large, crowded desk and opened the metal cap of a brass tube. Giving a sharp whistle, he spoke into the tube, ordering a Elven wine of old vintage and two glasses to be sent up. Replacing the cap, he grins. “Had a Gnome fellow who came to owe a small debt to me. In recompense he constructed the ‘whistletube’ gizmo among a few other things. So, it is my understanding that The Widow sent something for me?”
Boo watches with surprise and fascination intrigued by the amazing brass tube device. "A very clever fellow your Gnome, I am very impressed." Then gives him a questioning look when he mentions the name, The Widow. "Oh, is that what she is called? I am afraid that I deal with her through a third-party so I have never met her in person, nor can I recall my contact ever calling her that. But yes, I was contracted to deliver a parcel to you."
The young Tiefling then proceeds to open her pack and slowly pull out the locked bag of holding placing it on the table and sliding towards Stax. "There you go!"
Before Stax can respond a small bell tinkles somewhere and an odd sound, muffled by the wall, can be heard. Going over to where a small hatch was located beside a bookcase, he lowered it, exposing a small shaft about a foot square. Inside she saw a series of ropes attached to a brass tray. On the tray was a bottle and two glasses.
“The Gnome fellow,” the guild master said as way of explanation. Taking the bottle and glasses to a small table beside her chair Stax pops the cork and pours. “Not all of his inventions are as useful, of course, but enough are to have made me reconsider how he was to repay his debt. Now the little fellow runs a small business, creating and installing such contrivances into the manor houses across the city.” Handing her a glass, Stax gives her a slight smirk. “I am always on the look out for clever and useful floobs. Take yourself and your courier biz, my organization could surely benefit from one of your agility and cleverness, Boosandie.”
Boo reaches out and accepts the glass of wine offered and takes a small sip, "delicious," she purrs, "so tell me, do you usually offer all couriers such expensive fare upon delivery?" Then giggles rather amused at being called agile and clever. "I have been complimented many times on my agility and my flexibility in the boudoir of course, but never on my cleverness. I fear you are overestimating my meager capabilities just a tad."
She pauses and takes another sip of wine rather enjoying the vintage, "Besides, I am not much of a joiner, that's why I work freelance, it gives me plenty of freedom to enjoy a very active social life. I only do an occasional courier run when I am running a little short. I am not the type to be tied down, but I do enjoy getting out and meeting an interesting assortment of people like yourself who I might not otherwise encounter."
Stax looks disappointed but still chuckles as he toasts her independence. “There’s always room for freelancers as well. I figured since you were taking commissions from The Widow that you might enjoy being tied down.” Smiling again at his cleverness, Stax takes a seat in a large plus chair and sips his wine. Glancing at the bag he sets it on a small table next to the chair. “So many wheels and deals going on in this city, there’s a huge demand for talent at all levels. And you, my dear, are pure talent just appearing the way you do.”
Boo takes another sip of wine and smiles, "well I am always open to accepting new freelancing opportunities especially with powerful handsome men like yourself. We society girls learn early the value of establishing and maintaining a wide and diverse range of contacts and connections. You might even say that schmoozing is one of my primary talents. So if you have something specific in mind or if something comes up in future that I might be of assistance with, do keep me in mind. I am just not interested in working for one party exclusively, I am sure you understand."
“I’ll have to introduce you to another freelancer I am currently lancing. Firehair’s her name, a rather wicked Drow fem with flaming red hair, hence her piffy name.” He grins and shakes his head, “Then again, perhaps I shouldn’t. She’s dangerous on many levels and has appetites few can saite.” Stax was gazing at Boo from across the rim of his wine glass. It was more than the usual male interest; it was as if he was measuring her.
The petite Tiefling thinks for a moment, "a Drow fem with red-hair, named Firehair. Sorry, doesn't ring any bells but in the circles that I tend to run in, I've heard some pretty wild tales about a sensuous red-haired Drow courtesan that everyone calls Rose Red, maybe it's a nickname or an alias then again it could easily be another person entirely." Boo shrugs noticing his watchful gaze as she casually flirts.
Setting his glass aside, Stax picks up the bag and studies the lock for a moment, giving a slight nod he spins and twists the stylized raven-shaped lock. “Some of these are magically warded, trapped you might say. Some are not.” A soft click sounds, and the tiny raven’s talons pop open, release their grip on the drawn rings of the bag. Opening it, he drops the lock inside before slipping his hand in deep, nearly to his armpit. Lips pursing, he withdraws his arm and holds up two wooden vials. Interesting.”
Boo is rather surprised and caught off guard when Stax opens the pouch in front of her. In all her deliveries Boo has never once been witness to whatever it was that she was carrying, not that she ever cared to know, being of the mind that the less she knows the better. Taking another sip of wine, she sits the unfinished glass down on the table, "forgive me, I should be taking my leave. I can see that you are a busy man and I do not wish to take up too much of your valuable time. I enjoyed our chat very much, thank you for the wine." She says pleasantly and politely not wishing to offend but not wishing to overstay her welcome either.
“One such as exotically beautiful as you can never overstay her welcome,” Stax replies with a chuckle. His eyes gauging her reaction. Glancing down at the vials in his hand he seems to be weighing them. “Let me ask you something, Miss Belfrye. Being of one of the cities noble lines, albeit a second generation one, how do you view the politics of the city. Would you say that those perched beneath Alar the Lion’s throne are doing a satisfactory job?”
Boo sits back and picks up her glass and takes another sip. Offering a polite smile as she responds, "with all due respect, I couldn't give a fig about politics! Thus, I have absolutely no interest or opinion worth expressing." She says simply, her expression is one of growing boredom, but she politely feigns interest and listens to what he has to say in order to humor him.
“You see, in any city state worth its existence there are always factions. Factions and groups who believe they can do a better job than the others at running things. Now see, it’s no great secret that I am a member of an…organization. There’s a thin difference between the guilds and those political factions. At least, in some things.” Stax glances at Boo. “Sometimes the whole thing can become a complicated, intertwined mess. One faction seeks to gain ground over another. Another seeks to eliminate competition or pushes change somewhere, while a third strives to protect the status que or the existing power struggle. In some cases, they use physical, sometimes lethal means” – he eyes the vials again – “for others, information. Or more importantly, using information gathered to influence the various members of the factions to switch sides, to favor this idea or that concept… Here, for example, have you heard this movement within the government to clean up the streets?
Boo giggles finding his words amusing but agreeing somewhat, at least in part, "yes, yes it is all so overly complicated and messy, you have struck at the heart of why I don't involve myself with such things. I don't clean up messes, I make them! This faction, that faction, this guild, that guild, what does it matter in the end as there are always going to be people making messes and those seeking to clean them up. It is akin to a force of nature, an unfortunate unending cycle. But to answer your question. No, I have not heard about any efforts to clean up the streets."
“Apparently there’s this rumor gaining ground that The Lion has issued a proclamation that the citizens of our fair city are no longer to empty their chamber pots into the gutters, alleys, or streets. This is an effort to clean them up.” He shrugs, “Perhaps in time for next weeks grand festival. Perhaps it’s some sort of test of the floobs. Perhaps it is a political ploy by one of The Lion’s functionaries to gain favor or to stand out as ‘looking out for the health and wellbeing…blah, blah, eh?”
Boo slowly puts down her glass of wine, stands up and walks over to Stax. Smiling at him she proceeds to climb up on to his lap, straddling him, face to face. Gently kissing and nibbling his neck as she whispers, "this is what you worry about, this is what keeps you up late at night, where the city's unwashed plebeians empty their chamber pots? How very droll, or maybe some petty functionary just stepped on one too many turds and just snapped deciding to do something about it. Sounds more like a potential business opportunity if you ask me, perhaps that clever Gnome of yours has an idea or two. In any event, I think you worry too much and are in desperate need of a little diversion." [NPC Reaction roll: Seduction (+7) 63+7=70 (+1 gained if second attempt made)]
“See, I – “Stax grins as she straddles his lap. Out of a subconscious act his eyes are drawn briefly to her chest, then stiffens slightly as her teeth toy with the side of his neck. One of his hands comes to rest on Boo’s hip. “Well, a lot of things keep me up at night.” Stax coughed and grinned when he thought about how what he had just said could be taken out of context. “Well, yes, I suppose – what I was getting around to was to suggest a few ways you could make some extra gold.”
Boo merely giggles in a teasing manner apparently finding some unknown detail of their exchange amusing.
Clearly taken off guard Stax laughs, his hand on Boo’s hip sliding over her lower back to press against the base of her tail. “That’s not quite what I had in mind,” he murmured. “I figured that since you’re a social butterfly, you hear all kinds of things in those parties of yours. I – “
Boo abruptly stops nibbling at his neck and smiles at him playfully, her tail twitching, "I see," she says giggling again teasingly as she slides off his lap and walks slowly back over to her wine glass to take a final sip, finishing it off.
She spots the flash of disappointment cross the man’s face out of the corner of her eye as she vacates his lap.
The petite Tiefling sits back down where she was sitting before climbing onto to his lap, "I hear a lot of things at parties, most of it, idle gossip, useless claptrap, or a host of other things of no real value already being public knowledge. Pretty faces are a copper a dozen at such gatherings, many are courtesans paid to attend to accompany guests or merely to act as alluring fixtures in general to spruce up an otherwise boring event. If you simply seek information, any of them can provide you with whatever you seek at a fraction of the cost."
Stax grins and shakes his head. “Oh no, Miss Boosandie, you are no mere joy toy or love slave. Yes, of course we milk such informants, bet your pointed tail we do. I imagine most of my competitors do the same. You, your unique in your beauty and rare in your birth, in more than one way. I imagine that your ears and your eyes see and hear things that the others do not.” The guild master gave a sigh then shrugged. “If you hear something that you feel might be of value, I hope that you’ll remember my offer.”
Boo's tail twitches moving rhythmically back and forth as if it had a life of its own, "yes, occasionally something interesting manages to slip out. If I do hear something that might be of value, I will be too sure to offer you an opportunity to bid for it along with other interested parties, like the mistress or the Widow as you call her. I do so love the free market and healthy competition amongst the movers and shakers of this city, don't you? But then I am a female and often act on a whim or in response to a slight. Of course, like all women generous incentives or inducements go a long way towards winning my favor or a means to cement closer ties," she remarks matter-of-factly.
Standing, Stax walks her too the door. “One more thing, if you will indulge me. I’ve been hearing a lot of rumors this past five day of vampire activity in the city. Not that I believe such beasts are present in Tarantis, I suspect it’s some sort of ploy or plot being put forward by some factions within the city, still….”
Boo shakes her head grinning, "vampires at least are a much more interesting topic of discussion than say, talk of chamber pots, I will keep all you have said this evening in mind, thank you again for the wine," she says simply giving the sense that he had failed to make either a good or a lasting impression upon her.
Returning to the roof exit Boo found the guard gawking at her again. He nearly tripped in his rush to open the trapdoor for her. Over head the mists had grown thicker at the rooftop level, making the area darker then before. Higher up, she sensed, one moon had diminished as the orb passed further into the heavens. The smell of rain was on the air as well.
Back at the exit, Boo smiles at the guard as he opens the trapdoor for her, "have a pleasant evening sweetie," she says to him tossing him a gold coin just before taking flight. Overall Boo had been less than impressed with the guild master and hoped that the upcoming private dinner party at Arman Flander a few hours before moonfest (midnight) would be an improvement. No doubt even a stuffy boring dinner party would offer more refined conversation than chamber pot conspiracies. The skinflint Stax had not even bothered to tip her, not a good look for him at all, at least in her materialistic eyes. But on the positive side, the subject of vampires did manage to pique her curiosity with her finding such a possibility extremely intriguing!
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Livvi's story continues...
Livvi quickly follows Mordecai, catching up with him before he leaves the Inn. She carries on their conversation from inside. "You are correct that Nephele is my contact at the Brew and will ensure you are taken care of until I arrive or will bring you to me if I am there. The woman I want you to meet is called Bilina, and she has powerful contacts and deep knowledge of what is happening around the city. I have already told her of my concerns about a vampire haunting Tarantis - she needs to hear about Lilita's encounters. Of course, if the girl gets herself killed tonight, or turned into a bloodsucker herself, then it will just have to be you and me tomorrow morning."
Mordecai as he walks, chuckles, "She as a vampire may give her confidence a boost - I've never heard of a sulking vampire before."
The half-orc quickens his step commenting, "Where in blazes did she go? We were but a few seconds behind her - unless she decided to sprint out of the inn and all the way home."
As they walk, the bard sticks to the dark shadows of the streets and alleys, practicing her trailing techniques and trying to avoid being noticed by anyone else. Stealth: 10
Mordecai, looking for Lilita, yells out, "Oy, Lilita - where'd you run off to?!?"
He then looks at Livvi, realization donning his face, "Oh, sorry - you were meaning to be quiet. Right. Apologies. I was hoping my shouts would keep her from getting too far ahead."
Feeling her stare, Mordecai simply says, "Right."
"Maybe your approach is better. I saw the vampire Rezgui chased off by a parade of monks the other night... There may be a good reason to drive any predators away instead of trying to encounter them with their fangs already in the girl. Do you think she's heading back to her home? We could go there and see if that's where she ends up - hopefully we'll catch up to her on the way. Unless she is thinking if returning to the Black Rose - which I hope she is not! We should hurry either way, though." She motions for the large half-orc to lead the way, then turns her attention to trying to discern Lilita's, or any others, presence as they go. Perception: 24
"A parade of monks?" Mordecai asks. "There was such a parade today."
He asks Livvi for a description of this 'Rezgui' and, combining that with what Lilita has mentioned, tries to remember if he saw such a person at the religious parade earlier.
"No, this one was two nights ago. It was when I first saw Rezgui, and Lilita for that matter. He was talking with her at a clothier shop, but I saw something in his look that made me fear for her safety. Rezgui looks like an older nobleman, with a bright blue turban fitted with a big gemstone. At first, I thought him to be just another vicious old man who would take his lust or displeasure out on poor Lilita. I ran after them into the night - lost Lilita but saw the man in the alleys. That was when a parade of monks happened by, and he disappeared. Then, last night, I saw him with her on a rooftop, and he was about to bite into her neck! He also cast no reflection in my mirror, and the Blackhearts could not hit him with their weapons. Last but not least, I saw him jump off a building and transform into a bat, to fly off into the darkness. We must be cautious of this one. He has a hold on the Grey Lady that I do not understand...and powers I am not able to defeat. Yet." Livvi says quietly enough that no other person would overhear and panic at her tales.
"I would really hope she went straight home, but I don't know - she seems obsessed with this Rezgui. I remember her mentioning though that he's an enemy of those at the Black Rose." He pauses, "Is the Black Rose along the way to Lilita's vardo? I fear she may do something... ill-advised. You seem to know this situation better than I; I'll trust your judgment on where to go."
Livvi ponders the question for a moment. "Well, you know Tarantis. Everything is near everything else - and sometimes it is impossible to get from here to there. So, the Rose is not directly on the way to her wagon, but it is not all that off course, either. We could swing by on the way. An interesting bit of news that Rezgui is an enemy of the Rose. I wonder if that means they know what he is? I was investigating the disappearance of several girls around town, and the odd status of one in particular, who was returned but in a daze. She is currently in the Rose, but her own father is not permitted to see her. It sounds like a deeper case of enchantment than what Lilita seems to be under, so I don't know if the Rose would be a friend or another foe."
After a beat, Mordecai then says, "I really hope you are a goddess as Lilita thinks, or at least a spell slinger, because my weapons were not terribly effective against that weretiger and I assume the same will go for the vampire."
"I am no goddess, and I am but a humble servant of the crown. I suppose I have a powerful voice and passing skills as a crier, but a spell slinger? I am no wizard! Another reason we must be cautious." Livvi replies.
As they walk, Mordecai looks for signs of Lilita's passing, specifically ash fallen from her dress. About to make a comment the half-orc’s head jerks up as a scream rips through the night.
He sighs, "I have a bad feeling about tonight."
"That makes two of us. Damn, I hope that isn't our girl." Livvi picks up their already brisk pace, trying to determine where the sound was coming from.
Another scream comes from somewhere down a narrow alley leading behind the block behind the butcher’s shop. A feminine scream filled with pleading and terror. A third starts but trails off…not suddenly, as if the victim was silenced forever, but something had cut off her cry for help.
"There - down this alley! Can you see in the dark, Mordecai? Because that girl can't wait for you to spark a torch! Let's go!" She pulls a slim, yet deadly-looking, dagger from its scabbard and quickly moves down the alley. "I wish Lina was here with that wand..." the half-elf maiden mutters as she goes.
Mordecai immediately pulls loose his glaive. He then looks to Livvi, "I'm not in the habit of helping people when there's no benefit to me, but odds are if that's what I think it is, Lilita may be near."
He grimaces, "Let's find out if I survive one more night." And then charges towards the commotion.
As they pushed down the dark, foggy alley, something about that scream struck a cord with Livvi. Though she’d never heard the scream, the voice behind it however… Up ahead, not far away there was a thud, as if a body was being forcibly slammed against something. It was followed by a horrified moan, “No, not me, anybody but me!” In her heart, Livvi knew it was Nephele of the green hair and helpful smiles.
The realization that this victim was a friend of hers added an extra imperative for the bard and fueled the chaotic magic that instantly surges through her veins. Rounding the last corner, Livvi sees her friend from the café slumped against the cold, hard-packed dirt alley to find something that once was a man bending over Nephele, holding her still form in his arms as his mouth sucks on her neck.
The hatred for the creature that murdered Nephele springs forth, manifested in a series of demonic whispers that assault the psyche. (Casting 2nd level Dissonant Whispers spell dealing 12 psychic damage on a failed DC13 WIS save.) [GM rolled Wis Save = 12; fails]
"She was my friend. You will pay dearly for this, foul creature!"
The vampire, caught by surprise, reels from the psyche attack.
"The girl ain't dead yet - and whatever it was you did, keep doing it," Mordecai shouts as he charges in. "So, you're the famous Rezgui or just another overgrown mosquito?"
Mordecai deals a slash across the vampire's chest with his heavy glaive, putting all his strength behind it. The glaive bit into the beast’s thigh though not as deeply or as damaging as it should have, but Mordecai’s powerful push launches the vampire backwards where it slams into the wall of a unknown shop, hard enough to cause the beast to go down on one knee. [Opening an attack of opportunity]
Mordecai, seeing an opportunity for an attack open up with the beast just in the ten-foot range of his glaive, follows the momentum of his glaive all the way through to another slashing attack!
Mordecai let's out a slash across the vampire's chest with his heavy glaive, hoping the attack pushes the foul creature back and away from his prey!
The glaive bit into the beast’s thigh though not as deeply or as damaging as he had hoped for, but Mordecai’s powerful push launches the vampire backwards where it slams into the wall of an unknown shop, hard enough to cause the beast to go down on one knee.
Mordecai, seeing an opportunity for an attack open up with the beast just in the ten-foot range of his glaive, follows the momentum of his glaive all the way through to another slashing attack! The brutal force the Half-Orc applied to his strike would have sliced a normal person’s head in half, as it was the majority of the vampire’s nose went flying off into the dark.
Mordecai plants himself ten feet away from the beast and performs a feint, then reverses the momentum of his glaive and slashes at the vampire, knocking the beast back against the wall again as he calls out, "If you all got any of that sunlight or holy magic - now would be a good time to use it!"
"Lord Rakia Rezgui from the Karzulun, vampire and a plague upon Tarantis. You insipid dandy, we are on to you! Your nights of freely hunting the innocents of this city are over! You are a dread-bolted sandy-trousered travesty, and you are marked. You have threatened the Grey Lady and attacked Nephele and girls unknown. I will hunt you down and end your abhorrent false-life!" the anger and hatred continue to flow forth from the bard, given damaging effect by her inborn magic. (Casting 2nd level Dissonant Whispers spell again. On a failed DC13 WIS save, it takes 14 psychic damage and must immediately use its reaction, if available, to move as far as its speed allows away from you. The creature doesn’t move into obviously dangerous ground, such as a fire or a pit. On a successful save, the target takes half as much damage and doesn’t have to move away.)
The vampire scream’s more out of rage than pain as his hands reflexively went up to where his nose once was, cursing and railing, murder in his eyes: “Hades take you and your Lord Rakia Rezgui pointy eared *****! You and your tusker piss for brains. You dare, DARE to attack me? One of the Stengari? Oh, but flay yourselves now and save my kin from the trouble.” Even as he cursed the beast was swaying slightly. “Rezgui was banished to the sun cursed steppes a lifetime ago. I am Hannible Hamsto! Fear me and despair!”
"Hannible the Hamster, I think! Even if you can escape with your wretched excuse of a life tonight, your nights of hunting, and your nose, are gone! It is YOU who should be cowering in fear..." Livvi can feel the magic surging through her body, focusing her rage and desire to kill the vampire into her continuing psychic attacks. Luckily for Mordecai, the haunting sounds of her spell are only heard by Hamsto, who should, by all rights be running away from the bard in terror! But this creature was tougher than the floobs Livvi had been forced to use this spell on in her past. [Dissonant Whispers at 1st level damage: 8 ]
Mordecai, hearing Livvi's defiant words, is motivated by this Bardic Inspiration!
Hannible the Hamster’s head jerked about as if seeking a way out. His blood rimmed eyes bored into Mordecai’s, finding nothing but grim determination the beast turned to sneer at Livvi. “You fools! You don’t understand, my friends will come for you, you…cattle. It’s all your good for, well” – he leers briefly at the half-elf – “cattle. Food! Don’t you get it? We once ruled this city and we will again, soon. It’s all planned and there’s nothing you cattle can do about it.”
"Well, Hamster, you're about to be gored on our horns. Know that we are NOT your food. We are not bunnies or does, timid and stupid. No... we fight back. You know this - otherwise you would be walking out in the open. Instead, you hide your true natures and lurk in the shadows because you fear us. So, let that fear wash through you, bloodsucker. Because the last thing you will feel tonight is bite of my partner's polearm on your neck. And your plans? They will fail! YOU will fail!" Livvi keeps her psychic assault up, letting the anger seethe and flow from her to the vampire. (Dissonant Whispers at 1st level - damage: 9 and run away on failed DC13 WIS save. She will also grant Mordecai another Bardic Inspiration on his next attack! [Save rolled = 8, failed])
The beast calling itself Hannible suddenly jerks wildly, smoke appears, issuing from its skin just before it bursts into bright, vivid flames. A horrific scream rips from its throat as it’s consumed where it stands. In seconds, the vampire’s reduced to glowing ashes and the burning remnants of its clothing. An acrid, evil smell fills the narrow confines of the alley.
"Well, I didn't expect to see something like that today," remarks Mordecai. He then immediately starts searching the pile of ash, using his handaxe, for anything that might be useful or informative.
Mordecai looks at Livvi and states, "You should tend to that green haired lady, she looks a bit shaken up. Perhaps it's best if you send her to your inn - we still need to find Lilita." As if to answer the green haired young woman had begun to sob quietly where she lay, curled up into a little ball. (Livvi Moved this up - makes more sense here she says!)
Livvi let the anger, the hate, the need to strike out flow out of her when she heard her friend's sobbing. In three quick steps she was at Nephele's side, concern and compassion replacing the grim determination on her face. Her hands trembled as she reached down - whether from concern or adrenaline she couldn't tell. "Oh Nephi...it's going to be alright. That horrible creature won't bother you, or anyone else, again. My new acquaintance and I made sure of that! Here, let me check you over. Tell me what happened. Every detail. This was not your fault, so do not feel afraid or ashamed. But I need to know everything that happened to help put an end to these attacks..."
Medicine: 18 Livvi carefully examines the young woman, looking for wounds - especially punctures. "Damn, where's the Grey Lady when I need her most? Lilita, if you're out there, I need you!"
As Livvi examined the shaking girl the Bard was relieved to find no bite marks, no signs that the foul beast had managed to infect her. The green-haired girl was sobbing, clutching desperately to Livvi’s arm. Clearly the girl was in a state of shock. She had a wild look in her eyes, lips quivering with each word she gushes, “He…he kept saying he was going to own me; possess me. It felt like he was in my head! I screamed and kicked but his grip was iron, and he kept screaming, submit! I – I said I didn’t want to, and he started hitting me. Spitting and screaming about it was time; that HE was the master now, an – and that we’d all submit. That his brothers would see to it. He called me a cow!” Nephele wailed. “He said that the city’s proper rulers have returned, Livvi. That we’re all to serve their every whim. H – he said I wasn’t pretty enough to for him to give me the gift, as it had been given to him. W – what did he mean?”
Persuasion: 22. Livvi brushes the girl's hair between her fingers, looking into Nephele's eyes to get her attention. Quietly she says, "The man was a monster who meant to force himself on you. I am so sorry that you had to endure this, but I am so proud of how strong you were to resist him and even fight him off! Come, let's get you home. A hot bath, a shot of fire wine, and a warm meal will get you on the road to right." She slips her arms around her friend and helps her to her feet. "I'm sorry to say that I do not know where you live, so you'll have to lead the way. Can you do that, Nephele? There's my strong girl..."
As they start to walk back down the alley, Livvi turns to Mordecai and says, "Do you want to go look for Lilita? I've got this one...we should be fine now. Thank you for your help - not sure I could have done that alone. Come find me tomorrow if you want to continue this hunt...I work in the Market during the day, and you've been to the Inn where I stay. Oh," she concludes, "when you find the Grey Lady, maybe put a bell on her!" With that, Livvi laughs and sets off
"Oy, Livvi," Mordecai exclaims, "rather than take her home - gods know where that is - take her back to the inn. It's closer. Neither of you should be out alone at night."
"Are you sure you aren't willing to accompany me to find Lilita? My blades aren't nearly as effective as it seemed. I'd feel better with your spell slinging nearby."
Livvi considers Mord's suggestion, then responds to him while looking at Nephele. "You have a good point about the Inn being closer. Let's both get my friend there and tucked in, and then we can resume our search for Lilita."
"Nephi, we're going to take you to my room at The Whispering Mane where you should clean up and get some rest. My hulking friend and I were looking for another young woman who may be in danger - like you were - and we have to go find her. Don't worry, you'll be fine." she lies smoothly. Razgui had been outside her window just last night and was definitely unhappy that she broke up his lovefest with the Grey Lady yet again...but time was of the essence if they were going to find Lilita and the Inn was the closest place to go.
Nephele nods shakily, casting trusting eyes on the Half-Elf.
They walked quickly, staying to the brighter sections of the roads and avoiding the alleys. Once at the Inn, Livvi will lead Nephele up to her room, make sure the blinds are closed on the window, and give the girl one of her sleepshirts. She barely waits to say goodnight before rushing back out with Mordecai to resume their search.
<><><><><><><><><>
Livvi's story continues...
Livvi quickly follows Mordecai, catching up with him before he leaves the Inn. She carries on their conversation from inside. "You are correct that Nephele is my contact at the Brew and will ensure you are taken care of until I arrive or will bring you to me if I am there. The woman I want you to meet is called Bilina, and she has powerful contacts and deep knowledge of what is happening around the city. I have already told her of my concerns about a vampire haunting Tarantis - she needs to hear about Lilita's encounters. Of course, if the girl gets herself killed tonight, or turned into a bloodsucker herself, then it will just have to be you and me tomorrow morning."
Mordecai as he walks, chuckles, "She as a vampire may give her confidence a boost - I've never heard of a sulking vampire before."
The half-orc quickens his step commenting, "Where in blazes did she go? We were but a few seconds behind her - unless she decided to sprint out of the inn and all the way home."
As they walk, the bard sticks to the dark shadows of the streets and alleys, practicing her trailing techniques and trying to avoid being noticed by anyone else. Stealth: 10
Mordecai, looking for Lilita, yells out, "Oy, Lilita - where'd you run off to?!?"
He then looks at Livvi, realization donning his face, "Oh, sorry - you were meaning to be quiet. Right. Apologies. I was hoping my shouts would keep her from getting too far ahead."
Feeling her stare, Mordecai simply says, "Right."
"Maybe your approach is better. I saw the vampire Rezgui chased off by a parade of monks the other night... There may be a good reason to drive any predators away instead of trying to encounter them with their fangs already in the girl. Do you think she's heading back to her home? We could go there and see if that's where she ends up - hopefully we'll catch up to her on the way. Unless she is thinking if returning to the Black Rose - which I hope she is not! We should hurry either way, though." She motions for the large half-orc to lead the way, then turns her attention to trying to discern Lilita's, or any others, presence as they go. Perception: 24
"A parade of monks?" Mordecai asks. "There was such a parade today."
He asks Livvi for a description of this 'Rezgui' and, combining that with what Lilita has mentioned, tries to remember if he saw such a person at the religious parade earlier.
"No, this one was two nights ago. It was when I first saw Rezgui, and Lilita for that matter. He was talking with her at a clothier shop, but I saw something in his look that made me fear for her safety. Rezgui looks like an older nobleman, with a bright blue turban fitted with a big gemstone. At first, I thought him to be just another vicious old man who would take his lust or displeasure out on poor Lilita. I ran after them into the night - lost Lilita but saw the man in the alleys. That was when a parade of monks happened by, and he disappeared. Then, last night, I saw him with her on a rooftop, and he was about to bite into her neck! He also cast no reflection in my mirror, and the Blackhearts could not hit him with their weapons. Last but not least, I saw him jump off a building and transform into a bat, to fly off into the darkness. We must be cautious of this one. He has a hold on the Grey Lady that I do not understand...and powers I am not able to defeat. Yet." Livvi says quietly enough that no other person would overhear and panic at her tales.
"I would really hope she went straight home, but I don't know - she seems obsessed with this Rezgui. I remember her mentioning though that he's an enemy of those at the Black Rose." He pauses, "Is the Black Rose along the way to Lilita's vardo? I fear she may do something... ill-advised. You seem to know this situation better than I; I'll trust your judgment on where to go."
Livvi ponders the question for a moment. "Well, you know Tarantis. Everything is near everything else - and sometimes it is impossible to get from here to there. So, the Rose is not directly on the way to her wagon, but it is not all that off course, either. We could swing by on the way. An interesting bit of news that Rezgui is an enemy of the Rose. I wonder if that means they know what he is? I was investigating the disappearance of several girls around town, and the odd status of one in particular, who was returned but in a daze. She is currently in the Rose, but her own father is not permitted to see her. It sounds like a deeper case of enchantment than what Lilita seems to be under, so I don't know if the Rose would be a friend or another foe."
After a beat, Mordecai then says, "I really hope you are a goddess as Lilita thinks, or at least a spell slinger, because my weapons were not terribly effective against that weretiger and I assume the same will go for the vampire."
"I am no goddess, and I am but a humble servant of the crown. I suppose I have a powerful voice and passing skills as a crier, but a spell slinger? I am no wizard! Another reason we must be cautious." Livvi replies.
As they walk, Mordecai looks for signs of Lilita's passing, specifically ash fallen from her dress. About to make a comment the half-orc’s head jerks up as a scream rips through the night.
He sighs, "I have a bad feeling about tonight."
"That makes two of us. Damn, I hope that isn't our girl." Livvi picks up their already brisk pace, trying to determine where the sound was coming from.
Another scream comes from somewhere down a narrow alley leading behind the block behind the butcher’s shop. A feminine scream filled with pleading and terror. A third starts but trails off…not suddenly, as if the victim was silenced forever, but something had cut off her cry for help.
"There - down this alley! Can you see in the dark, Mordecai? Because that girl can't wait for you to spark a torch! Let's go!" She pulls a slim, yet deadly-looking, dagger from its scabbard and quickly moves down the alley. "I wish Lina was here with that wand..." the half-elf maiden mutters as she goes.
Mordecai immediately pulls loose his glaive. He then looks to Livvi, "I'm not in the habit of helping people when there's no benefit to me, but odds are if that's what I think it is, Lilita may be near."
He grimaces, "Let's find out if I survive one more night." And then charges towards the commotion.
As they pushed down the dark, foggy alley, something about that scream struck a cord with Livvi. Though she’d never heard the scream, the voice behind it however… Up ahead, not far away there was a thud, as if a body was being forcibly slammed against something. It was followed by a horrified moan, “No, not me, anybody but me!” In her heart, Livvi knew it was Nephele of the green hair and helpful smiles.
The realization that this victim was a friend of hers added an extra imperative for the bard and fueled the chaotic magic that instantly surges through her veins. Rounding the last corner, Livvi sees her friend from the café slumped against the cold, hard-packed dirt alley to find something that once was a man bending over Nephele, holding her still form in his arms as his mouth sucks on her neck.
The hatred for the creature that murdered Nephele springs forth, manifested in a series of demonic whispers that assault the psyche. (Casting 2nd level Dissonant Whispers spell dealing 12 psychic damage on a failed DC13 WIS save.) [GM rolled Wis Save = 12; fails]
"She was my friend. You will pay dearly for this, foul creature!"
The vampire, caught by surprise, reels from the psyche attack.
"The girl ain't dead yet - and whatever it was you did, keep doing it," Mordecai shouts as he charges in. "So, you're the famous Rezgui or just another overgrown mosquito?"
Mordecai deals a slash across the vampire's chest with his heavy glaive, putting all his strength behind it. The glaive bit into the beast’s thigh though not as deeply or as damaging as it should have, but Mordecai’s powerful push launches the vampire backwards where it slams into the wall of a unknown shop, hard enough to cause the beast to go down on one knee. [Opening an attack of opportunity]
Mordecai, seeing an opportunity for an attack open up with the beast just in the ten-foot range of his glaive, follows the momentum of his glaive all the way through to another slashing attack!
Mordecai let's out a slash across the vampire's chest with his heavy glaive, hoping the attack pushes the foul creature back and away from his prey!
The glaive bit into the beast’s thigh though not as deeply or as damaging as he had hoped for, but Mordecai’s powerful push launches the vampire backwards where it slams into the wall of an unknown shop, hard enough to cause the beast to go down on one knee.
Mordecai, seeing an opportunity for an attack open up with the beast just in the ten-foot range of his glaive, follows the momentum of his glaive all the way through to another slashing attack! The brutal force the Half-Orc applied to his strike would have sliced a normal person’s head in half, as it was the majority of the vampire’s nose went flying off into the dark.
Mordecai plants himself ten feet away from the beast and performs a feint, then reverses the momentum of his glaive and slashes at the vampire, knocking the beast back against the wall again as he calls out, "If you all got any of that sunlight or holy magic - now would be a good time to use it!"
"Lord Rakia Rezgui from the Karzulun, vampire and a plague upon Tarantis. You insipid dandy, we are on to you! Your nights of freely hunting the innocents of this city are over! You are a dread-bolted sandy-trousered travesty, and you are marked. You have threatened the Grey Lady and attacked Nephele and girls unknown. I will hunt you down and end your abhorrent false-life!" the anger and hatred continue to flow forth from the bard, given damaging effect by her inborn magic. (Casting 2nd level Dissonant Whispers spell again. On a failed DC13 WIS save, it takes 14 psychic damage and must immediately use its reaction, if available, to move as far as its speed allows away from you. The creature doesn’t move into obviously dangerous ground, such as a fire or a pit. On a successful save, the target takes half as much damage and doesn’t have to move away.)
The vampire scream’s more out of rage than pain as his hands reflexively went up to where his nose once was, cursing and railing, murder in his eyes: “Hades take you and your Lord Rakia Rezgui pointy eared *****! You and your tusker piss for brains. You dare, DARE to attack me? One of the Stengari? Oh, but flay yourselves now and save my kin from the trouble.” Even as he cursed the beast was swaying slightly. “Rezgui was banished to the sun cursed steppes a lifetime ago. I am Hannible Hamsto! Fear me and despair!”
"Hannible the Hamster, I think! Even if you can escape with your wretched excuse of a life tonight, your nights of hunting, and your nose, are gone! It is YOU who should be cowering in fear..." Livvi can feel the magic surging through her body, focusing her rage and desire to kill the vampire into her continuing psychic attacks. Luckily for Mordecai, the haunting sounds of her spell are only heard by Hamsto, who should, by all rights be running away from the bard in terror! But this creature was tougher than the floobs Livvi had been forced to use this spell on in her past. [Dissonant Whispers at 1st level damage: 8 ]
Mordecai, hearing Livvi's defiant words, is motivated by this Bardic Inspiration!
Hannible the Hamster’s head jerked about as if seeking a way out. His blood rimmed eyes bored into Mordecai’s, finding nothing but grim determination the beast turned to sneer at Livvi. “You fools! You don’t understand, my friends will come for you, you…cattle. It’s all your good for, well” – he leers briefly at the half-elf – “cattle. Food! Don’t you get it? We once ruled this city and we will again, soon. It’s all planned and there’s nothing you cattle can do about it.”
"Well, Hamster, you're about to be gored on our horns. Know that we are NOT your food. We are not bunnies or does, timid and stupid. No... we fight back. You know this - otherwise you would be walking out in the open. Instead, you hide your true natures and lurk in the shadows because you fear us. So, let that fear wash through you, bloodsucker. Because the last thing you will feel tonight is bite of my partner's polearm on your neck. And your plans? They will fail! YOU will fail!" Livvi keeps her psychic assault up, letting the anger seethe and flow from her to the vampire. (Dissonant Whispers at 1st level - damage: 9 and run away on failed DC13 WIS save. She will also grant Mordecai another Bardic Inspiration on his next attack! [Save rolled = 8, failed])
The beast calling itself Hannible suddenly jerks wildly, smoke appears, issuing from its skin just before it bursts into bright, vivid flames. A horrific scream rips from its throat as it’s consumed where it stands. In seconds, the vampire’s reduced to glowing ashes and the burning remnants of its clothing. An acrid, evil smell fills the narrow confines of the alley.
"Well, I didn't expect to see something like that today," remarks Mordecai. He then immediately starts searching the pile of ash, using his handaxe, for anything that might be useful or informative.
Mordecai looks at Livvi and states, "You should tend to that green haired lady, she looks a bit shaken up. Perhaps it's best if you send her to your inn - we still need to find Lilita." As if to answer the green haired young woman had begun to sob quietly where she lay, curled up into a little ball. (Livvi Moved this up - makes more sense here she says!)
Livvi let the anger, the hate, the need to strike out flow out of her when she heard her friend's sobbing. In three quick steps she was at Nephele's side, concern and compassion replacing the grim determination on her face. Her hands trembled as she reached down - whether from concern or adrenaline she couldn't tell. "Oh Nephi...it's going to be alright. That horrible creature won't bother you, or anyone else, again. My new acquaintance and I made sure of that! Here, let me check you over. Tell me what happened. Every detail. This was not your fault, so do not feel afraid or ashamed. But I need to know everything that happened to help put an end to these attacks..."
Medicine: 18 Livvi carefully examines the young woman, looking for wounds - especially punctures. "Damn, where's the Grey Lady when I need her most? Lilita, if you're out there, I need you!"
As Livvi examined the shaking girl the Bard was relieved to find no bite marks, no signs that the foul beast had managed to infect her. The green-haired girl was sobbing, clutching desperately to Livvi’s arm. Clearly the girl was in a state of shock. She had a wild look in her eyes, lips quivering with each word she gushes, “He…he kept saying he was going to own me; possess me. It felt like he was in my head! I screamed and kicked but his grip was iron, and he kept screaming, submit! I – I said I didn’t want to, and he started hitting me. Spitting and screaming about it was time; that HE was the master now, an – and that we’d all submit. That his brothers would see to it. He called me a cow!” Nephele wailed. “He said that the city’s proper rulers have returned, Livvi. That we’re all to serve their every whim. H – he said I wasn’t pretty enough to for him to give me the gift, as it had been given to him. W – what did he mean?”
Persuasion: 22. Livvi brushes the girl's hair between her fingers, looking into Nephele's eyes to get her attention. Quietly she says, "The man was a monster who meant to force himself on you. I am so sorry that you had to endure this, but I am so proud of how strong you were to resist him and even fight him off! Come, let's get you home. A hot bath, a shot of fire wine, and a warm meal will get you on the road to right." She slips her arms around her friend and helps her to her feet. "I'm sorry to say that I do not know where you live, so you'll have to lead the way. Can you do that, Nephele? There's my strong girl..."
As they start to walk back down the alley, Livvi turns to Mordecai and says, "Do you want to go look for Lilita? I've got this one...we should be fine now. Thank you for your help - not sure I could have done that alone. Come find me tomorrow if you want to continue this hunt...I work in the Market during the day, and you've been to the Inn where I stay. Oh," she concludes, "when you find the Grey Lady, maybe put a bell on her!" With that, Livvi laughs and sets off
"Oy, Livvi," Mordecai exclaims, "rather than take her home - gods know where that is - take her back to the inn. It's closer. Neither of you should be out alone at night."
"Are you sure you aren't willing to accompany me to find Lilita? My blades aren't nearly as effective as it seemed. I'd feel better with your spell slinging nearby."
Livvi considers Mord's suggestion, then responds to him while looking at Nephele. "You have a good point about the Inn being closer. Let's both get my friend there and tucked in, and then we can resume our search for Lilita."
"Nephi, we're going to take you to my room at The Whispering Mane where you should clean up and get some rest. My hulking friend and I were looking for another young woman who may be in danger - like you were - and we have to go find her. Don't worry, you'll be fine." she lies smoothly. Razgui had been outside her window just last night and was definitely unhappy that she broke up his lovefest with the Grey Lady yet again...but time was of the essence if they were going to find Lilita and the Inn was the closest place to go.
Nephele nods shakily, casting trusting eyes on the Half-Elf.
They walked quickly, staying to the brighter sections of the roads and avoiding the alleys. Once at the Inn, Livvi will lead Nephele up to her room, make sure the blinds are closed on the window, and give the girl one of her sleepshirts. She barely waits to say goodnight before rushing back out with Mordecai to resume their search.
<><><><><><><><><>
Mordecai's story continues...
Livvi quickly follows, catching up with him before he leaves the Inn. Where she carries on their conversation from inside. "You are correct that Nephele is my contact at the Brew and will ensure you are taken care of until I arrive or will bring you to me if I am there. The woman I want you to meet is called Bilina, and she has powerful contacts and deep knowledge of what is happening around the city. I have already told her of my concerns about a vampire haunting Tarantis - she needs to hear about Lilita's encounters. Of course, if the girl gets herself killed tonight, or turned into a bloodsucker herself, then it will just have to be you and me tomorrow morning."
Mordecai as he walks, chuckles, "She as a vampire may give her confidence a boost - I've never heard of a sulking vampire before."
He quickens his step commenting, "Where in blazes did she go? We were but a few seconds behind her - unless she decided to sprint out of the inn and all the way home." [Perception Check to catch sight of her? 5]
With the nightly mists it wasn’t a total surprise that the slender healer was already out of sight’
As they walk, he notices the bard sticking to the dark shadows of the streets and alleys, practicing her trailing techniques and trying to avoid being noticed by anyone else.
Mordecai, looking for Lilita, yells out, "Oy, Lilita - where'd you run off to?!?"
He then looks at Livvi, realization donning his face, "Oh, sorry - you were meaning to be quiet. Right. Apologies. I was hoping my shouts would keep her from getting too far ahead."
Feeling her stare, Mordecai simply says, "Right." [Stealth Check @ disadvantage due to heavy armor... 3]
"Maybe your approach is better. I saw the vampire Rezgui chased off by a parade of monks the other night... There may be a good reason to drive any predators away instead of trying to encounter them with their fangs already in the girl. Do you think she's heading back to her home? We could go there and see if that's where she ends up - hopefully we'll catch up to her on the way. Unless she is thinking if returning to the Black Rose - which I hope she is not! We should hurry either way, though." She motions for the large half-orc to lead the way, then turns her attention to trying to discern Lilita's, or any others, presence as they go.
"A parade of monks?" Mordecai asks. "There was such a parade today."
He asks Livvi for a description of this 'Rezgui' and, combining that with what Lilita has mentioned, tries to remember if he saw such a person at the religious parade earlier ( Intelligence Check 11 ).
"No, this one was two nights ago. It was when I first saw Rezgui, and Lilita for that matter. He was talking with her at a clothier shop, but I saw something in his look that made me fear for her safety. Rezgui looks like an older nobleman, with a bright blue turban fitted with a big gemstone. At first, I thought him to be just another vicious old man who would take his lust or displeasure out on poor Lilita. I ran after them into the night - lost Lilita but saw the man in the alleys. That was when a parade of monks happened by, and he disappeared. Then, last night, I saw him with her on a rooftop, and he was about to bite into her neck! He also cast no reflection in my mirror, and the Blackhearts could not hit him with their weapons. Last but not least, I saw him jump off a building and transform into a bat, to fly off into the darkness. We must be cautious of this one. He has a hold on the Grey Lady that I do not understand...and powers I am not able to defeat. Yet." Livvi says quietly enough that no other person would overhear and panic at her tales.
"I would really hope she went straight home, but I don't know - she seems obsessed with this Rezgui. I remember her mentioning though that he's an enemy of those at the Black Rose." He pauses, "Is the Black Rose along the way to Lilita's vardo? I fear she may do something... ill-advised. You seem to know this situation better than I; I'll trust your judgment on where to go."
"Well, you know Tarantis. Everything is near everything else - and sometimes it is impossible to get from here to there. So, the Rose is not directly on the way to her wagon, but it is not all that off course, either. We could swing by on the way. An interesting bit of news that Rezgui is an enemy of the Rose. I wonder if that means they know what he is? I was investigating the disappearance of several girls around town, and the odd status of one in particular, who was returned but in a daze. She is currently in the Rose, but her own father is not permitted to see her. It sounds like a deeper case of enchantment than what Lilita seems to be under, so I don't know if the Rose would be a friend or another foe." After a beat, Mordecai then says, "I really hope you are a goddess as Lilita thinks, or at least a spell slinger, because my weapons were not terribly effective against that weretiger and I assume the same will go for the vampire."
"I am no goddess, and I am but a humble servant of the crown. I suppose I have a powerful voice and passing skills as a crier, but a spell slinger? I am no wizard! Another reason we must be cautious." Livvi replies.
As they walk, Mordecai looks for signs of Lilita's passing, specifically ash fallen from her dress. (Survival Check 17 )
For a moment Mordecai thought he found a smudge of fresh ash on the corner of a closed butcher’s shop. With the poor lighting and the fog casting odd shadows and effecting his Darkvision. About to comment on it to Livvi a scream rips through the night.
He sighs, "I have a bad feeling about tonight."
"That makes two of us. Damn, I hope that isn't our girl." Livvi picks up their already brisk pace, trying to determine where the sound was coming from.
Another scream comes from somewhere down a narrow alley leading behind the block behind the butcher’s shop. A feminine scream filled with pleading and terror. A third starts but trails off…not suddenly, as if the victim was silenced forever, but something had cut off her cry for help.
"There - down this alley! Can you see in the dark, Mordecai? Because that girl can't wait for you to spark a torch! Let's go!" She pulls a slim, yet deadly-looking, dagger from its scabbard and quickly moves down the alley. "I wish Lina was here with that wand..." the half-elf maiden mutters as she goes.
Mordecai immediately pulls loose his glaive. He then looks to Livvi, "I'm not in the habit of helping people when there's no benefit to me, but odds are if that's what I think it is, Lilita may be near."
He grimaces, "Let's find out if I survive one more night." Then charges towards the commotion.
As they pushed down the dark, foggy alley, not far away there was a thud, as if a body was being forcibly slammed against something. It was followed by a horrified moan, “No, not me, anybody but me!”
Behind him Mordecai hears a shout of anger and distress come from the Half-elf as they round the last corner and sees a young woman with green hair slumped against the cold, hard-packed dirt alley as something that once was is man bending over the still form in his arms as his mouth sucks on her neck.
Livvi gives a snarl of hatred and makes a gesture with one hand towards the vampire. "She was my friend. You will pay dearly for this, foul creature!"
The vampire, caught by surprise, reels from the psyche attack, lets go of the girl who slumps to the ground. Spinning to glare at them, he snarls, baring his elongated teeth.
"The girl ain't dead yet - and whatever it was you did, keep doing it," Mordecai shouts as he charges in. "So, you're the famous Rezgui or just another overgrown mosquito?"
Mordecai let's out a slash across the vampire's chest with his heavy glaive, hoping the attack pushes the foul creature back and away from his prey! {Pushing Attack with Glaive: 23 Slashing Damage: 12, also DC 13 STR Save or be pushed back 15 feet. } [GM response to Str Save rolls 01 <> attack successful (Dam 12 – 10 (Vampire’s Dam Reduction vs. normal weapons = 2) Hit Location 41 = Hit’s leg > Roll 20% > Target loses balance]
The glaive bit into the beast’s thigh though not as deeply or as damaging as he had hoped for, but Mordecai’s powerful push launches the vampire backwards where it slams into the wall of an unknown shop, hard enough to cause the beast to go down on one knee. [Opening an attack of opportunity]
Mordecai, seeing an opportunity for an attack open up with the beast just in the ten-foot range of his glaive, follows the momentum of his glaive all the way through to another slashing attack! { Glaive AOO Attack: 22 <Hit – Hit Location (Good Lord, I need to stop rolling or change dice) 01 > Critical hit to Head or Torso (Rolled Even for head) > Hit Location – Head > 09 > Head Trauma, slices off nose, +2 Dam, Roll Stun = 27 > Grazing blow, stunned one CR + -1 to all rolls for balance of encounter> Slashing Damage: 12+1 } { OOC - going for broke, since we're still waiting on Livvi, I'm going to pretend it's still my turn and burn my ACTION SURGE to get another attack in and I'll be using my bonus action, too - not used to playing a battlemaster fighter... Lol! }
Mordecai plants himself ten feet away from the beast and performs a feint {bonus action battlemaster special move allowing advantage on the next and tacking on 1d8 superiority die in extra damage... }, then reverses the momentum of his glaive and slashes at the vampire! { Glaive Action Surge Attack: 20 <Hit, roll HL = 07 > Head Grazed > Roll on Stun Chart > 85 = Grazing Blow, stunned for additional 7 CR, additional -1 to all actions for balance of encounter> Slashing Damage: 12 }
Mordecai calls out, "If you all got any of that sunlight or holy magic - now would be a good time to use it!"
"Lord Rakia Rezgui from the Karzulun, vampire and a plague upon Tarantis. You insipid dandy, we are on to you! Your nights of freely hunting the innocents of this city are over! You are a dread-bolted sandy-trousered travesty, and you are marked. You have threatened the Grey Lady and attacked Nephele and girls unknown. I will hunt you down and end your abhorrent false-life!" the anger and hatred continue to flow forth from the bard, given damaging effect by her inborn magic.
The vampire scream’s more out of rage than pain as his hands reflexively went up to where his nose once was, cursing and railing, murder in his eyes: “Hades take you and your Lord Rakia Rezgui pointy eared *****! You and your tusker piss for brains. You dare, DARE to attack me? One of the Stengari? Oh, but flay yourselves now and save my kin from the trouble.” Even as he cursed the beast was swaying slightly. “Rezgui was banished to the sun cursed steppes a lifetime ago. I am Hannible Hamsto! Fear me and despair!”
"Hannible the Hamster, I think! Even if you can escape with your wretched excuse of a life tonight, your nights of hunting, and your nose, are gone! It is YOU who should be cowering in fear..." Livvi can feel the magic surging through her body, focusing her rage and desire to kill the vampire into her continuing psychic attacks.
Mordecai, hearing Livvi's defiant words, is motivated by this Bardic Inspiration!
Hannible the Hamster’s head jerked about as if seeking a way out. His blood rimmed eyes bored into Mordecai’s, finding nothing but grim determination the beast turned to sneer at Livvi. “You fools! You don’t understand, my friends will come for you, you…cattle. It’s all your good for, well” – he leers briefly at the half-elf – “cattle. Food! Don’t you get it? We once ruled this city and we will again, soon. It’s all planned and there’s nothing you cattle can do about it.”
"Well, Hamster, you're about to be gored on our horns. Know that we are NOT your food. We are not bunnies or does, timid and stupid. No... we fight back. You know this - otherwise you would be walking out in the open. Instead, you hide your true natures and lurk in the shadows because you fear us. So, let that fear wash through you, bloodsucker. Because the last thing you will feel tonight is bite of my partner's polearm on your neck. And your plans? They will fail! YOU will fail!" Livvi keeps her psychic assault up, letting the anger seethe and flow from her to the vampire.
The beast calling itself Hannible suddenly jerks wildly, smoke appears, issuing from its skin just before it bursts into bright, vivid flames. A horrific scream rips from its throat as it’s consumed where it stands. In seconds, the vampire’s reduced to glowing ashes and the burning remnants of its clothing. An acrid, evil smell fills the narrow confines of the alley.
"Well, I didn't expect to see something like that today," remarks Mordecai. He then immediately starts searching the pile of ash, using his handaxe, for anything that might be useful or informative.
Mordecai looks at Livvi and states, "You should tend to that green haired lady, she looks a bit shaken up. Perhaps it's best if you send her to your inn - we still need to find Lilita." As if to answer the green haired young woman had begun to sob quietly where she lay, curled up into a little ball. (Livvi Moved this up - makes more sense here she says!)
Livvi let the anger, the hate, the need to strike out flow out of her when she heard her friend's sobbing. In three quick steps she was at Nephele's side, concern and compassion replacing the grim determination on her face. Her hands trembled as she reached down - whether from concern or adrenaline she couldn't tell. "Oh Nephi...it's going to be alright. That horrible creature won't bother you, or anyone else, again. My new acquaintance and I made sure of that! Here, let me check you over. Tell me what happened. Every detail. This was not your fault, so do not feel afraid or ashamed. But I need to know everything that happened to help put an end to these attacks..."
Livvi carefully examines the young woman, looking for wounds - especially punctures. "Damn, where's the Grey Lady when I need her most? Lilita, if you're out there, I need you!"
As Livvi examined the shaking girl the Bard was relieved to find no bite marks, no signs that the foul beast had managed to infect her. The green-haired girl was sobbing, clutching desperately to Livvi’s arm. Clearly the girl was in a state of shock. She had a wild look in her eyes, lips quivering with each word she gushes, “He…he kept saying he was going to own me; possess me. It felt like he was in my head! I screamed and kicked but his grip was iron, and he kept screaming, submit! I – I said I didn’t want to, and he started hitting me. Spitting and screaming about it was time; that HE was the master now, an – and that we’d all submit. That his brothers would see to it. He called me a cow!” Nephele wailed. “He said that the city’s proper rulers have returned, Livvi. That we’re all to serve their every whim. H – he said I wasn’t pretty enough to for him to give me the gift, as it had been given to him. W – what did he mean?”
Livvi brushes the girl's hair between her fingers, looking into Nephele's eyes to get her attention. Quietly she says, "The man was a monster who meant to force himself on you. I am so sorry that you had to endure this, but I am so proud of how strong you were to resist him and even fight him off! Come, let's get you home. A hot bath, a shot of fire wine, and a warm meal will get you on the road to right." She slips her arms around her friend and helps her to her feet. "I'm sorry to say that I do not know where you live, so you'll have to lead the way. Can you do that, Nephele? There's my strong girl..."
As they start to walk back down the alley, Livvi turns to Mordecai and says, "Do you want to go look for Lilita? I've got this one...we should be fine now. Thank you for your help - not sure I could have done that alone. Come find me tomorrow if you want to continue this hunt...I work in the Market during the day, and you've been to the Inn where I stay. Oh," she concludes, "when you find the Grey Lady, maybe put a bell on her!" With that, Livvi laughs and sets off.
Mordecai picks up the gown and feathery mask as the pair walks away. He quickly pockets them into his pack.
"Oy, Livvi," Mordecai exclaims, "rather than take her home - gods know where that is - take her back to the inn. It's closer. Neither of you should be out alone at night."
"Are you sure you aren't willing to accompany me to find Lilita? My blades aren't nearly as effective as it seemed. I'd feel better with your spell slinging nearby."
Livvi considers Mord's suggestion, then responds to him while looking at Nephele. "You have a good point about the Inn being closer. Let's both get my friend there and tucked in, and then we can resume our search for Lilita."
"Nephi, we're going to take you to my room at The Whispering Mane where you should clean up and get some rest. My hulking friend and I were looking for another young woman who may be in danger - like you were - and we have to go find her. Don't worry, you'll be fine." she lies smoothly. Razgui had been outside her window just last night and was definitely unhappy that she broke up his lovefest with the Grey Lady yet again...but time was of the essence if they were going to find Lilita and the Inn was the closest place to go.
Nephele nods shakily, casting trusting eyes on the Half-Elf.
They walked quickly, staying to the brighter sections of the roads and avoiding the alleys. Once at the Inn, Livvi will lead Nephele up to her room, make sure the blinds are closed on the window, and give the girl one of her sleepshirts. She barely waits to say goodnight before rushing back out with Mordecai to resume their search.
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Lilita's Story continues...
She was running. Running on short, unsteady legs, towards the most important person in her whole world. That person was beautiful beyond measure, at least to her. The person sitting in the rocking chair was safety, warmth, love, food, comfort… she could almost see her…almost.
And then she woke up.
Lilita couldn’t be sure how long she had dozed. It took a moment as her disoriented mind sorted itself out. She was sitting in the nursery of an abandoned townhouse. Nothing looked familiar, and everything looked like it should. But that was long ago, and she recalled speaking the truth to the Crow. How could she be sure home was her home.
Exactly, Lilita thought to herself, how could she be sure that this was her home, where her family lived and not someone else's, the city, after all, is filled with foundings! This could just as easily be the home of any number of them. She is starting to think that her imagination has once again gotten the better of her!
The crow was nowhere to be seen.
Lilita silently shakes her head thinking perhaps she dreamed the crow too and continues on.
Across from the nursery she found a door partially open, leading into what was once a Lady’s bedroom, a poorly lit one.
Lilita renews the Light cantrip on her ring and proceeds to slowly and cautiously enter the adjoining room to discover what it might contain.
A light coating of dust was everywhere, as were small piles of old leaves. The air smelled fresher and it didn’t take long for her to notice that a pair of glass doors were open a few inches. The doors lead out onto a small balcony overlooking the overgrown garden. Within the room were a large, four posted bed, made up with a flowery quilt and pink satin sheets. Near the bed a large vanity hosts a collection of crystal vials and silver containers. Perfumes and makeups of varying materials, she determined. A plush stool sits before the vanity and behind is another large, round mirror. This one covered by a sheet.
Lilita slowly walks to the glass doors and attempts to close them, not wishing the room to be further exposed to or damaged by the elements. Then turns her attention to the vanity, intrigued by the perfumes and makeups never before seeing such outside of a shop's window. The nannies who raised her with the other guild foundling females were very strict and had instilled into their charges that such things were frivolous and unnecessary.
As Lilita looked over the vials, running her fingers lightly over the fine crystal she could not help but smile with delight. Pausing to bend down and sniff the exotic perfumes Lilita tried to imagine her mother thinking this is what she must have smelled like. Still, small doubts continued to linger.
Her thoughts moving back and forth, upward and downward. If this was indeed her mother's room Lilita was also finding it somewhat unsettling to try to wrap her mind around the notion that she and her mother were raised in separate worlds. No doubt, the fey goddess would have shared much more in common with the woman who once sat at the vanity than the poor backward Lilita.
Staring downward, Lilita found her eyes once more glistening with tears as she thought how much she missed not knowing a mother's love, not learning the necessary social graces that a mother teaches a daughter. As she looked at herself in a nearby mirror Lilita found herself imagining that if her mother and father could see her now, no doubt she would prove to be something of a disappointment.
The mirror was unbroken, within her image gazes back at her with puzzled, puffy eyes.
Lilita continues to stare at herself for a bit before finally reaching up to wipe away the tears from her puffy eyes and whispers, "I am sorry mother I wish things could have been different for us both." Looking down at her feet shyly, feeling self-conscious, aching desperately for her lost mother something seems to glitter.
Out of the corner of one eye Lilita spots a small, silver gilded picture frame laying on the floor beneath the vanity. Face down and placed between a leg and the wall it had the look of something valuable, something someone wanted to hide in a hurry.
Her eyes looking downward at the silver frame on the floor at her feet, Lilita bends to down to carefully pick it up and turn it over.
A small portrait showing the silver-haired women whose image hung in the room below and a tall, handsome man, one whose image was strikingly like her noble monster. He stood, one hand on her shoulder as she cradled a girl infant. One with curly silver-blonde hair and eyes matching those peeking out of the vanity’s mirror whenever her eyes glanced at them.
Lilita looks down at the image and lets out a gasp of surprise feeling weak at the knees, tears streaming, her nervous stomach in knots as she stares at it! Could that truly be her noble monster!!! Were her instincts about him correct after all or is she once more letting her imagination get the better of her?
Her ears pick up a muttering qork coming from somewhere down the hallway.
Holding the frame against her chest, unable to look at it further but unwilling to discard it, Lilita clutched it tightly knowing that she would never let it go. If they were her parents then, that little portrait is the only thing that she will ever have of them all together as a proper family! Lilita turned following the familiar sound of the crow as if calling to her. She finds herself walking back into the hallway looking for it, following the sound.
It led to the end of the second-floor hallway and past a narrow stair leading both up and down to the door at the end of the hall. Perching on top of the bust of an amused looking old man that might be an ancestor, the Owl-turned-Crow mutters and worries the door handle beside him. At her silent approach the bird rustles his wings and cocks his head back to gaze at her, the glow of her light spell adding color to the bird’s black eye.
Lilita smiles at the crow happy to see it again, somehow feeling less alone and in some way reassured in its calming presence. She whispers to it, "and where did you get off to my little friend, I missed you?" She bends down and kisses its beak lightly, "please don't leave me, stay with me to see this through."
The bird responds by leaping onto her shoulder again and lightly tugging at a strand of loose hair.
At the turn of the handle the door swings slowly inward, as if waiting for just this moment over the years. One hinge squeak’s softly and several cobwebs are broken by the door’s passage. Beside her the crow bobbed his head than swooped inside where he sailed across a large bedroom to land on top of a bird stand sitting near the closed glass doors leading to another balcony. The room was easily twice the size of the ladies, with a similar large posted bed. Several wardrobes and chests fill spaces between windows on three of the four walls. A smaller side door was located to the left as she entered slowly.
Lilita looked about the room taking it all in as she inspects the wardrobes and chests for something inside that would reveal the names of the home's occupants. Journals, documents and other papers, engraved items like watches or jewelry, whatever that seemed likely to hold some clue to help her understand an empty home with everything inside, all for the most part, intact.
Lilita once again looks at the small portrait she has been carrying around with her, inspecting it more closely still trying to figure out if the man in it is indeed her noble monster. If so, why did he not say something? Did he even suspect she wondered? Why does she feel such love for him and at the same time a fury situated deep within her that sought his destruction? She felt those violent feelings back at the Black Rose but since leaving that place those feelings and impulses have started to lessen and subside somewhat but have not been forgotten. Perhaps it was that rage deep inside her that caused her to attack Nicci so fiercely. She had assumed it had been the wand that Mordecai gave her, maybe it is cursed, but now she isn't so sure that it isn't something or someone causing such a whirlwind of mixed emotions within her.
Seeing the smaller side door, after a thorough search of the room itself and its contents, she made her way slowly to it reaching out to open it. Then walk inside.
It was a private library or study. Bookcases lined several walls and a small fireplace a third. Cold ashes lie inside, long abandoned but further reminders that this place had once been alive with the small details of a family’s life. Near a shuttered window sits an ornate writing desk, it’s rolled top pushed up, displaying something that might be what she was longing for. An open book, the sort often associated with journals. Beside it lie several used quills and a stoppered inkwell.
Lilita is pleased upon finding this out of the way room, finally, a study has been located. As it is located off the master bedroom her father or whoever this man was she gets the impression that he must have been a very private sort of person with a study for himself. Slowly Lilita moves closer to the desk and pulls up a chair to sit down to begin to read the book she found lying open.
The last entry was written in a strong, sure script, the sort of penmanship of a well educated floob, or so she imagined:
“…time has become critical as these forces of darkness have swept over the city. Foul monstrosities roam the streets and alleys, foul men and women slaved to the disease that turns them into half beasts, enthralled to their unholy, undead masters. It is these masters; these Sanguisuge, led by my former peer, Lord Maigrinstaff. Basha Maigrinstaff, once my good friend and a valued member of the Healer’s Guild. I warned him from visiting that island and the tomb that it held. We were all warned by The Widow that it was a place best left untouched, but Basha simply had to know if the secrets of immortality were truly hidden there. Such a fable, such myth, and yet, truth in the most horrid of ways.
A great gift, Basha insisted, if it could be defined and understood. None of us truly understood. So, the expedition was sent with Basha in charge. Gone most of a year, we all grew to assume that the adventure had been a failure and that they had lost their lives, either on the sea journey to the island or on the island itself. Then my friend returned, alone. The only survivor he had said. But he was changed, different somehow. There was a coldness to his being, something that unsettled even the priests who attempted to visit him. At first, Basha seemed reluctant to leave his families townhouse, save only at night. When he did, he did so cloaked and hooded even then and preferred to avoid large gatherings. There was a legal battle within the Maigrinstaff house as Basha’s brother Tasran sought to complete the transfer of title and fief that had begun when the courts had determined Basha’s absence meant he was dead and thus, no longer the head of household.
When I visited, which I openly admit became far less frequent than I had before the expedition, I found myself probing Basha, seeking to know what he learned; what he had found and what had truly gone on. His reluctance only fueled my need; my obsession to understand. Afterall, if there had been some artifacts or knowledge than I was entitled to my share.
Basha, it seemed, did want to share that knowledge, but did so by couching it in obscure means. He insisted that the tomb was full of such things, all relating to when Tarantis had been ruled by powerful men and women, almost godlike in abilities and powers and that this was how the city was meant to be ruled. I still don’t understand, but I will, even if I must force him too…
The writing paused, and upon closer examination, she realizes someone had torn several pages free from the binding at that point. The remainder of pages were blank, untouched by pen or hand.
Lilita sits back in the chair, some of what she read seemed to make some sense to her, especially the part about Lord Maigrinstaff and the Black Rose. But the rest of it she found a little confusing or perhaps just missing some key pieces of the puzzle. If Lilita is understanding it correctly, it was Lord Maigrinstaff who had returned to the city as one of the undead and evidently spread the vampire curse to others and they roam the streets to this day. Was her noble monster one of his minions, willing or unwilling, was he indeed her father, if not what is his connection to her and is, he the one that owns(ed) this house and made the entries in this journal? For now, her mind is a swirl with thoughts and theories, but she still could not be absolutely certain where or how everything fits together and if this place is truly her home as the crow that brought her here seemed to suggest.
Not fully satisfied or ready to give up just yet, Lilita starts to skim through the journal at its beginning looking for the name of the writer and if he was married, the name of his wife and any child(ren) and determine if this book is just continuation of another book so Lilita will also carefully search the whole study itself, but especially the desk and the desk drawers searching for other books, journals or any other clues or objects that seem out of place which warrant a closer look. Did write find the knowledge or artifacts he had been searching for she wondered, or has it all been collected and hidden away in the Black Rose?
While her search for a name begins to seem a futile one, she doses uncover evidence (or the lack of such in several cases) that someone else, perhaps more than one, has been here and gone through things. The journal itself shows signs of missing pages. Most of the journal was just that, the personal observations and musings of the writer, who didn’t feel the need to address himself as himself, though there were pieces of missing pages that could have contained a name or details of others who might not wish those details to be known. Searching the desk itself also failed to turn up anything that would help her quest. Any materials, such as monogramed parchments, ledgers, other journals were absent though there were empty places within the drawers and the cubby holes of the desk suggesting that something, at least, had once been there.
Lilita sighs as she starts to think that she will probably never know the full truth behind it all. As the desk and the study seemed not to contain anything relating to the knowledge or artifacts the writer of the journal mentioned did not overly concern Lilita who was much more interested in clues about the identities and lives of the writer, the woman Anilia and their child, seeking anything, any scrape of information that would provide some sort of evidence that would either confirm or disprove that the child mentioned is in fact Lilita or not.
With nothing else to go on at the moment, Lilita turns her attention back to the journal, reading and skimming through its pages. Flipping through the rest of the journal, empty page after empty page pass by. About to close the small book her eyes fall upon more writing:
Anilia asked again this evening, begged even, that I give up this fruitless crusade that The Order now wages. She is scared, for me, for our sweet angel, and would have me end it and flee the city. Perhaps travel to The City State of the World Emperor in the land of two moons and start again. How can I explain to her just how badly we erred? How Basha’s actions are just as much mine to blame as his. More so, since he cannot control himself, though The Widow assures me that with time and an iron will, it can be done. If there were time. But the plague grows, especially among the Noble Caste. Each night seems to add more victims, more slaves to the madness. I must find a way to reason with Basha, or, find a way to…too…destroy what he has become. I am to meet with Tan Gregarari and the High Priest of Kuluth this day, to discuss if we should continue the crusade in private or if it is time to confess everything to The Lion. If it were my choice alone, I would inform the king so that the whole cities power elite can be brought to bare…
Upon reading the passage Lilita leans back deeper into the chair mulling over what she had just read trying to take it all in and make sense of it. Was the Order mentioning the Council of Owls she had dreamed about or was that merely a figment of Lilita's overactive imagination? Maybe they are connected but most likely not, she could not be sure of anything at this point. In any event, what stuck out to Lilita in reading the passage was the mention of three individuals that sounded like allies of the journal's writer and enemies of the Lord Maigrinstaff!
Lilita found herself wondering who the Widow is or was? Evidently an alias of some sort, not a true name which would most likely make this person more difficult to track down. Tan Gregarari, sounded exotic to Lilita... Gregarari seemed to be somehow similar to Rezgui, the noble monster, maybe the name also originates from the strange mysterious Karzulun people?
The High Priest of Kuluth, was a different matter, this seems to be her best lead to follow up on after she finishes searching the house. Lilita thinking he should be easier to locate or if dead then perhaps his successor, the new High Priest. Her next stop would be to attempt to seek out the temple dedicated to Kuluth and try to gain an audience but for now, she would stay and finish searching the house.
Glancing at the journal and turning the page she was about to put it away when noticing one last entry. Hurried and sloppy, as if the writer was under great duress:
“They were all wrong! I was wrong! He has become a force of nature, dark and terrible and seems to grow in strength and power each day. I – I shouldn’t have tried to reason with him. He won’t see reason and when I pressed, he, he told me that I would understand better after. Confused, I argued and put a hand on him, hoping to draw him back to reason. It was a mistake…a terrible mistake, one that I will rue forever. The hunger is mental as it is physical, perhaps more so. An evil curse. And yet, and yet, I feel stronger, invincible but at such cost. The hunger gnaws at me even now. From here I can hear their heartbeats; smell their blood, and it calls to me. I must leave…for the sake of both of those I love…
Lilita closed the journal and carefully put the book into her pack next to the small family portrait she had found, definitely keeping both of these items and the mirror shard. Before leaving the study Lilita takes a closer look at the study's bookcase and the books on its shelves...
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