Union! Game Thread

Insight: 10

At Brandt's confused look and reply, the dwarf smirks: "'e's a daft one, in't he? Pro'ly weren't hired for his brains, looks like." Then, with a sarcastically slow pace, and overemphasising each syllable, he went: "Ye been tal-kin' to the half-orc mongrel, down near the docks. Tryin' to undercut our boss, an' his prices. 'e had offer'd ya a way to get 'em parts fer cheap, but ye went an' talked to that half-breed foreigner, who e'ryone 'ere knoes is sellin' to the Vargees, an' smugglin' on the side... Ye have no reason to protect 'im, whereas Mendraxes is a stout Brelish man, who done 'is communi'y good o'er the years. He's got eyes and ears in these 'ere streets, so ye better reconsider where ye get yer parts from, or else this'll be yer second Cyre." The half-elf looks at the dwarf, angrily shushing: "Stupid, ye weren't meant to say the bosses name, ye git!" "Hush, the dullard wudn't a had understood me otherwise..."

Brandt is still struggling to understand what exactly the two wastrels in front of him actually want, their slang adding further to the confusion.

"Yeah, I'm real dumb, got it. Are we done here, because it sounds like the boss and I need to have a talk. Face to face. With no middle men." Mendraxes looks down his snout at Krathgar, but he hires these guys to serve as his messenger boys?

Thia's eyes would dart around as she attempts to assess the true severity of the situation laid out ahead of her. Corti may be used to only seeing Thia's upbeat and more carefree demeanor, but now it has completely disappeared from her face and body language. She has shifted into a more serious and professional frame of mind, furrowing her brows and nodding intently to Wilfred's update. "And how are you? When was the last time you rested? Have you ate recently?" Thia would look Wilfred over, unsure if he's excited to see her, stressed out or close to a mental break from lack of rest. "We need you, Alexis and the others of fresh mind. I know you've worked tirelessly and are short staffed, but we need our wits more now than ever." She'd make eye contact with him, and Alexis if she sees her, to assess their well-being, knowing full well they'd protest against taking a break.

Thia would reach into her pocket, pull out an elastic and she'd pull her hair up and out of her face into a messy bun. She'd tighten it "Lets get comfortable." Walking up to the closest, largest surface, she would tuck her hand into the sleeve of her cloak and use it to brush off the surface, swiping any dust, particles or items off it to make room for a work space. Thia would reach into her bag and start pulling out some of the texts they gathered, encouraging Corti to pile up the medical texts she carried for her. She'd start plucking tools from her belt, pulling things out from inside pockets, and further rummaging through her bag to pull out her equipment to unload onto the surface next to the books. Remembering her manners, she'd stop for a moment, "Wilfred, this is Corti, a good friend of mine who's offered to come assist me." Thia would gesture to Corti during her introduction, nodding to her again in thanks before going back to setting up some equipment.

She'd pull out Sagira Tes-Amun- Of the Human Body. Foreign research- Kalashtari Trade Republic from the pile and square it up in front of her on the table, "I believe this is the specific text you requested? I was fortunate enough to bring other related texts for back up as well."

Tarian stepped into the dormitory. She didn’t expect to get far with this method, and her expectations were met rather quickly by a kobold wearing a crisp uniform, sitting atop a desk. The kobold barked a quick “Halt!” before producing a crystalline orb from within her uniform with broad motions that, with the dim light, Tarian couldn’t tell if they were stylishly bumbling or intentionally flashy. “You’re not a resident here, nor are you with one. State your business.”

Tarian felt an odd rush, like the truth had suddenly come to a boil and needed to bubble out of her. She pulled the skein of silver thread from her bag and showed it to the kobold. “Just here to deliver this to a Miss Thia.” When the kobold showed no sign of recognition, Tarian held one hand, palm down, to hover just above her own shoulder. “She’s about this high, auburn hair, blue eyes. Around my age. Alchemist. Recently with the Veiled Valour?”

Finally the kobold’s eyes lit. “Ah! Library girl!” The kobold scrambled to her feet atop the desk. “You missed her by quite a bit. Came in, left a while later carrying a full bag toward the library.” She pointed in the direction of a large building Tarian passed earlier. “Had one of those Cannith-made with her. She’s not back yet. If you want, Rishri can hold that for you.” The kobold placed a hand on her chest. “Rishri promises Thia will receive it. Or, if you give Rishri your name, Rishri can tell Thia you were here.”

Tarian shook her head. Her eyes cleared. This Rishri must have been raised in a kobold enclave. Despite her education, she still talks quickly and refers to herself in the third person. I guess this must be how I must seem to others when I talk. But despite being relatable, I can’t trust someone who just casts spells on me like that. “I think I’ll hold onto it, and deliver it myself. But if you see her, you can let Thia know Tarian was here.”

Tarian quickly stepped out of the dormitory before Rishri had another opportunity to compel her to do something else she wouldn’t otherwise.

So, let’s see. Thia’s still with Corti last they were seen. They headed to the library— Tarian looked back toward the large building. But for the lanterns at the door, everything was dark. —Which is probably closed at this hour. Meaning they’re probably not there. But Thia left her dormitory with a full pack toward the library and hasn’t returned, despite the library being closed. If she was going to stay the night anywhere, it would be her dorm, right? The distance is short, and the stay is already paid for, so she wouldn’t have to pay for an inn. But if she hasn’t returned, and left with a full pack, that must mean she’s gone somewhere other than just the library.

Tarian rubbed her palm against her forehead. She was thinking in circles.

Something must have happened between the time I left her and the time she left here. Let’s go through that. First, there’s the danger factor. Is she in danger? She’s stayed with Corti, so either she’s feeling threatened and needs company, or there’s another reason they’re still together. Assuming there’s danger, and she came to collect her belongings so she could stay somewhere else, that must mean whatever she’s in danger from must know where she sleeps, so she’d feel safer elsewhere. But why the library, then? And why with Corti? There’s too many unanswered questions down that path and not enough ways to get information about that at this hour. Let’s stable that idea for now.

Okay, so something happened, but she’s not in danger. It’s urgent, but not so urgent that she doesn’t have time to go to the library first. Or maybe going to the library was part of what’s urgent. She’s an alchemist, and part of Veiled Valour. Corti’s with her.

Tarian rubbed her forehead again.  I really don’t know anything about her. ‘Alchemist,’ ‘apothecary,’ ‘student,’ and ‘Veiled Valour’ are about it. Well, Veiled Valour is something. That job I took soon after I got here, collecting medicinal herbs outside Duskrock and delivering them to a scarred man in a worn-out church in the Eastern Fields, the contractor on that was Veiled Valour, right? That’s the only lead I have on that front.

Giving up on a case when the trail is hot is sure to make the trail go cold, but this trail is lukewarm at best. But I have spent a lot of time on it and I’d hate it to be a waste. Tarian fished a copper piece from her coin purse. Whatever. We let fate decide. Heads, I go home, get a good night’s rest. Tails, I check the Veiled Valour lead. And then I go home, crawl into bed, and thank whatever fuller that made my blanket warm, comfortable, and inviting.

Tarian flipped the coin into the air, caught it in one palm and quickly slammed it to the back of her other gauntleted hand. Heads, heads, heads, she prayed to herself as she slowly peeled back her hand, pulling back the veil of deep shadow that obscured the coin from the light of the street lamp.

Tails.

Tarian cursed. The hiss echoed in the night. Whatever. I’m getting a carriage ride there. Driver’ll hopefully know the city better than I.

The two wastrels seem to have been caught flat-footed by Brandt’s passiveness: « Umm, ye knoe where ta find the boss... an’ just ye knoe, he’s got an eye on ye an’ yer gal... »

With that, the step aside, letting Brandt go his way.

—————————————

Wilfred looks even worse than Alexis, and beyond the exhaustion, Thia can see the deep frustration and pain of his inability to help these people. 

Before she can set up her tools, Wilfred stops her: “Not here... We’ll do the autopsies in the old priest’s chambers, through there”, pointing to a small door to the side of the broken pulpit near which Wilfred had his personal quarters.

Stepping through to the small room, Thia and Corti find themselves in a cramped and dark room, illuminated only by a lantern hanging from the ceiling, and shedding a dim cone of gaslight onto a large birchwood table, on which lay one of the corpses, washed and prepped for autopsy. The floor was strewn with sawdust, against the smell and to soak up any blood. Wilfred shows her a small workspace where his instruments were prepared and where he had left space for her diagnostics equipment.

”Have you ever done an autopsy or examined remains to determine causes for a malady? If not, this’ll be your first. And Corti, please make sure you keep the books away from the blood, they’ll be important later.”

Thia gathers that Alexis either wasn’t trained or did not have the energy for an autopsy right now, which is why he had asked her to assist.

"Uh huh. Pleasure doing business with you." Brandt wasn't going to waste time fighting a pair of idiots who had gotten themselves drunk before noon and who gave away their employer's identity without being threatened. What he was going to do however, was pay Mendraxes a visit, as the Kobold had quickly moved up on his list of priorities and might possibly find himself moving up on another of Brandt's list depending on how his visit went.

Thia would nod, “Fair enough.” She’d tuck back any tools she did get out before Wilfred corrected her, then she'd follow him into the next room. 

“During my apprenticeship with the Guild Master, I assisted him with some autopsies for research. I’ve never lead one on my own.” Thia would confess to Wilfred. If it was clear to do so, she’d begin unloading her equipment in the room. She’d walk by Corti and place a hand on her shoulder, “How are you doing? I know things are moving a little fast. Things can get gruesome quick. But please know I appreciate your support.”

Thia held serious concern for both Wilfred and Alexis. She’d take a moment to look around, hoping to find a spare table, stretcher, or anything she could make shift into a nap area, even if this meant peaking into a room next door for a moment. 

She’d approach the work area again, ready to begin as per Wilfred’s directions. If he wavered or shook too much, Thia would offer to take over the task. “I propose we consider taking rotating breaks.” She’d look specifically to Alexis at this time who is visibly exhausted. “I recommend at minimum you take a short rest. We can send for you if things change.” Maybe that nap I took earlier will pay off. 

The cab driver quickly takes Tarian to Eastern Fields, but he struggles for a while to find the old church of the sacred flame, seeing as it had been in disuse for almost fifteen years already. Once there, Tarian gets out of the coach, and pays the two silver for the journey, before turning to the crumbling building.

She immediately spotted the sign on the door, marked in chalk. Other than that however, the place looked utterly disused. Tarian gave the doors a try, and though heavy and creaking, they swung open. In front of her, she found the entire chapel filled with sick people of all ages, most of them seemingly Cyrean in origin. Amongst them were a few orderlies, with white armbands and the emblazoned symbol of the Veiled Valour on them, attending some of the sick. She couldn’t help but be shocked by the sheer number of people cramped in here, by her reckoning close to two hundred people that were being treated. Did the council know about this? 

As Wilfred and Thia walk to the next room, Corti stands for a minute, looking around at the sick beds, then gathers up the books and follows them. She nods to Wilfred, and then picks a corner of the room, near Alexis, to watch the autopsy from a distance. 

She smiles at Thia as she comes over, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. You let me know if there’s anything you need from me.” Her eyes dart over to Wilfred, and she thinks over her next words, “And... break a leg.” Corti shifts the pile of books to one arm and puts her free hand over Thia’s, giving it a squeeze. 

"I will." She'd smile, appreciating Corti's squeeze. She'd return it.

Thia could have sworn she just heard the sound of the church door open. Since her and Wilfred were preparing for the autopsy, and Alexis is hopefully resting, she'd look to Corti, "May I bother you to go see who that may be? If it's another patient, you can direct them to one of the tenants in the main area. Please let us know."

"Oh, yes!" Corti places the books on a table or other nearby surface that is out of the way of the autopsy, then hurries back out into the main area.

She stands in the doorway for a moment, looking for someone who had obviously just come in, "Tarian?" Corti is careful to keep her voice down, but hurries through the sick until Tarian sees her. "What brings you here?"

Tarian looked at each of the orderlies circulating the repurposed chapel, but didn’t recognize Thia amongst them, nor did she see Corti. She tried getting the attention of a couple of the white-banded orderlies, but each time was told if she’s strong enough to walk, she should wait in the pews over there, and was pointed to an area where a few bedraggled folks still sat upright, leaning asleep against each other.

Looks like some sort of epidemic triage. Patient-to-caretaker ratio’s pretty poor. If I can’t get information out of the next person I try, then I should go. I shouldn’t get in their way. I can try delivering the thread tomorrow.

Tarian took three steps toward another orderly when she heard her name called quietly behind her.

“Tarian?”

Tarian turned.

“What brings you here?” Corti’s usual radiant smiling expression held obvious visual cues of concern. The way she tilted her head, the position of her shoulders, the tone of her voice—something was wrong.

Though if Corti’s expression was apparent to Tarian, Tarian’s expression must have been even more apparent to Corti, as Tarian’s eyes widened, she took a half-step back, opened her mouth slightly, and closed it again before speaking. “Corti,” Tarian started, as if to confirm exactly who stood before her. “I was… trying to track down Thia. I found some... silver thread…” Tarian placed her hands on Corti’s shoulders, and looked at the warforged from side to side. “Y’know, I didn’t actually expect to find you here. Or Thia—Thia is here, right?” Tarian laughed just a little, let go of Corti, and eased some of the tension she felt building in her shoulders. “I thought the trail was cold, and I’d have to find her later.”

Tarian's initial reaction only deepens Corti's concern, Goodness, she couldn't have gotten sick could she? No... we just saw her. Thia would have noticed. She relaxes a little when Tarian gives her explanation, "Oh- good, Thia will be happy to hear some good news. She's in the back, doing an autopsy. She and the other members are trying to figure out what all this is," Corti gestures out to the sick, "before it can get much worse." Corti chuckles slightly, "You certainly haven't lost your touch. Come on, we'll let her do her thing, but we can watch." Corti grabs Tarian's arm and leads her back into Wilfred's quarters and the corner she had been standing in.

Tarian followed Corti to the door. She wasn't certain what the protocol would be for entering, so she pulled out the skein of silver thread and just tried to enter as quietly as possible. She observed the room: poorly lit, crowded, and ill-ventilated, but prepped for spills and odors, with ample reference materials and tools. The autopsy room was less makeshift and more make-do.

Rather than leave the door open to let the dying watch the dead, Tarian edged in and shut the door. “Sorry for the interruption, but I have a delivery for Miss Thia.” Tarian held out the skein. “Is there somewhere you’d like it placed? We can discuss payment when you’re… less preoccupied.”

Thia starts the autopsy, but her hands are shaking, and although theoretically knowing what she had to do, she didn't manage, with her vision going blurry, and the shaking increase. Wilfred approached her: "Thia, it's okay, don't worry. I'll do the autopsy." With that, he stepped up to the corpse, and started to remove different organs and to take specific tissue samples to be inspected. "It's okay, I'll let you know when I'm done." With that, Thia stepped back out.

Arc had spent the last hours assembling a small turret, and now came the time to test it. He had chosen to try a simple flame thrower on it for now, as it wouldn't require any further arcane incantations on the construct. Carrying the prototype outside into the yard, he realised that the "portable" side of things could potentially be further improved in future models, since the brass and iron prototype weighed an estimated fifty pounds, despite reaching only up to his knee. 

Once in the yard, Arc cleared a sizable area to avoid anything unintentionally catching fire, before he set up the turret and fired it up. He was astonished at the bright cone of flame shooting from the small turret, blazing away the grass in a fifteen feet cone from the turret. Just as he wanted to start to celebrate however, the turret stuttered, the flame being interrupted. Arc noticed the funnel had grown red-hot, and the fuel tube was smoking. Eyes wide with the realisation, he manages to throw himself to the ground, just as the turret is thrown up into the air and explodes in a fireball, showering the yard with brass and iron pieces. All of the rooms adjacent to the yard have their windows blown out, and Arc can definitely sense his coat being singed by the flaming ball of fire above him. Father wasn't going to like having to replace the windows...

With a sigh, Arc picked himself up and dusted the damage off his coat with a simple Mending. He then went about cleaning up his mess and checking the damage to both the turret, and surroundings. If he could, he'd Mend/repair the windows with his abilities, and any other objects damaged by his test. "This is gonna take a while." 

However long it does take, he makes sure to clean up the remains of the turret and take it back to his room for inspection. Even failures had value, being able top learn what went wrong and how to prevent it would provided much more insight then simply going straight back to his notes.

(Btw, for the glass, like a puzzle, he assembles individual pieces to Mend them together, if that context helps XP)

Most of the windows are beyond repair with a mending spell, though a couple of panes from the furthest wing can be recovered. Other than that, Arc is busy tidying up the place, to make it look as good as possible before his father noticed. Once the place looks as clean as possible, he returns to his study with the wreckage of the turret, investigating the charred and broken remnants for a clue to the disfunction, and potential improvements for future models.

Investigation: 20