The soldier sneers: "First sergeant Julius Bernard, Second Platoon, First Company, Crendilian Guard!" Several of the surrounding soldiers cheer with him, and you notice them all share the brutes' red shoulder patch.

"Feel free to do whatever you want... that is, if you still can after we're done with you" He slowly draws his blade, eyeing you up. Then, he dips the blade, going for a lunge. You deflect the blow with your shield, only to realise to late that he was goading you, opening yourself up for a headbutt right on the nose. You sense the blood run down your face, and Julius boastfully stepping back, hands in the air like a champion.

19 for 4 damage.

Arius gave a quick mental note to the map, the woman and the Marshal's indifference towards him seeing them, his gaze traveling to all three before locking eyes with the Marshal. He gave a somewhat annoyed sigh, before bowing his head slightly, "At the behest of my traveling companions, I've come to offer my apologies for my earlier behavior. It was crude of me to mock your lack of intel on the interpersonal matters within the city, and I realize that reacting as I did, was immature....that said, I don't regret saying it." He raised his head to match the Marshal's composure, his stoic gaze returning, "Also at my coworker's request, I can offer my full services to you in any way you wish....once. That said, please don't suddenly ask me to manufacture you an army. Even my time is limited." He chuckled at the idea of being requested to do such a deed. It wouldn't be impossible, but the time and resources needed....it wasn't worth it in his mind. What point was there in doing something that was already done before?

Recalling his need to distract himself as long as possible, he looked over to the tanned skin woman, offering her a polite smile and nod, "Apologies for the late greeting madam, and for interrupting your time with the Marshal."

This is gonna end well for the kid. Brandt thinks as he watches Tarian fight.

"Thank you. I have no need of your services right now, but I appreciate the gesture and the willingness to make your... stay... with us as smooth as possible. I'm standing by my word, you are allowed off-base to fulfill your survey mission, as long as I have two of you staying behind. With the level of enthusiasm with which some of you have thrown themselves into camp life, I doubt that would be hard of you to do, and if Othmar runs out of ideas, I'm sure I'll be able to find other projects for you and yours. In the meantime, while you're here, Captain Dupont has some questions for you."

At that, the tanned lady looks at Arc, and after his brief greeting snaps to attention: "Captain Phoebe Dupont, FIrst Squadron, Imperial Lancers. My riders and I have been on an extended reconnaissance mission in the area. I hear your company is interested in doing survey work nearby. My boys and I are willing to share some of our findings, if we get some information in return."

------------------------------------------

Brandt, you arrive to a circle of men and women from different units, gathered around a large and drunk fighter squaring off against Tarian, who somehow had managed to land herself in trouble almost as soon as you turned your back. She kept her cool so far, taking pains to not cross the agreement with the Marshal. But the Brute was very quick for his size, and Brandt could recognise the lust for murder in his eyes.

Gyselle approaches the pair in front of Ishmael’s tent. “Wonderful evening eh?” She begins in her normal cheery manner then becomes a bit more serious. “If you would kindly let her in” thumbing towards Thia, “Ishmael has asked her to retrieve something for him. It being very important sent us along to accompany her to ensure she isn’t delayed. You know how the people in charge get when they want something.” Gyselle then looks expectantly at the pair to nod in agreement and let Thia in. 

"Important, eh? So why's he not here then? If you need to deliver something to Ishmael, he's with the commander", one of the guards responds.

Corti, what are you doing at the moment?

“Yes I know” Gyselle responds irritatedly at the delay. “We’ve been sent to get something and bring it to him. Why do you insist on all this chatter.” Gyselle stamps her foot impatiently, then motions for Thia to enter the tent and get the item she is looking for. 

"Right, as I said, the Arcanist isn't here, if you need to get something to him, he's with the Marshal". The guard remains calm, but his voice is firmer.

Corti grimaces as the conversation goes downhill, caught between wanting to step in and suspecting it would only make the guard less compelled to help. She clenches her fist, In for a copper piece, in for a gold I suppose, and steps up a little closer to Gyselle, moving slowly and keeping her hands in sight. "We're just doing what we were told." She keeps her voice quiet, nearly timid. As she speaks she casts Charm Person at 2nd level and targets both guards.

“I’m startin’ teh understand why you lot have been able to win yehr battles and still lose th’ war. Do yeh knoh where yehr frent leyne is? What yehr fightin’ fehr? Do yeh even knoh what’s at stake if yeh beat me hyurre?” Tarian pressed her free hand against the side of her nose and, through a momentarily blinding flash of pain, blew a gobbet of blood from her other nostril.

“This hyurre’s an evaluation. What happens to me gets back to Duskrock, one wey or th’ other, an’ far faster then you can fly. Arceneaux’s the front line hyurre. And in beating me you’re about to fail hehr and Garronia just as metch as you failed General Viktor at Thelamyria. Feral dogs aren’t wehrth negotiatin’ with.”

Tarian leveled a harsh gaze at the soldier. “So, Fehrst Sergeant Julius Bernard, Sehcond Platoon, Fehrst Cohmpany, Crendilian Guard, yeh’ve shown what you knoh of battle, now show me what yeh knoh of war.”

 The two guards are grabbing the pommels of their weapons as Corti steps close enough for them to realise that she is a warforged, but almost immediately calm down, after she completes her hand gesture. "Yeah, I get that. It's annoying when you're sent on errants late at night. I guess we can tell him you dropped something off here, that way you can get some rest afterwards." One of the guards gestures towards the tent, inviting Corti, Gyselle and Thia to step inside.

--------------------------------------------

"You're gonna pay for that!" The brute is no longer smiling, instead the veins in his neck are pulsating, and his face has reddened. With a grunt, he takes a swipe at Tarian with his short and heavy blade, reminding you more of a cutlass than a sword. This time though, Tarian is ready for her opponent, and quickly sidesteps the blade, causing the brute to stumble forwards, only furthering his anger. The soldiers around are hushed in silence at the fact that he has now brandished steel. 

Gathering himself and focusing on you, he tries to lunge at you, but Tarian dodges the thrust and parries the blade with her buckler. The anger only grows, with him actually growling now.

Thia's mouth would open and close a couple times as she'd fight every fiber of her being from storming away. Again. Everything. Everything about this was wrong to her. And it was making the artificer sick to her stomach in horror. Things felt like they were derailing so fast. ABORT ABORT ABORT. Was screaming in her head. What's the freaking point of fussing over a plan if no one respected it anyway. I shouldn't have hesitated... I should have just gone alone.  The amount of frustration, panic and anxiety rushing through her was insurmountable. Her fists were clenched so tight, her nails threatened to cut her skin. So much for a stealthy or secretive approach. Not only are they blatantly aware that we are snooping around, they'd have no problems pointing us out to Ishmael and the Marshal. Specifically Corti and the fact that she just had to save the day with her magic. Which Thia didn't expect would sit well in their warforges favour. She'd want to shoot a look of daggers to Gyselle. I asked one thing. One thing. Keep Corti safe.

Thia's jaw would clench. What is it? Don't cry over spilled milk? She'd grumble under her breath before she'd bow her head down in a 'passing greeting' to the soldiers, when actually she was adjusting her hood to keep her hidden. Not that she expected it to make much difference any more. The artificer would brush by Gyselle to make her way into the tent first. At least they got access? We better find something worth it... or I swear... The first thing she'd do besides a preliminary visual scan, would be to keep an eye out for any alerts or traps. Not only while entering the tent, but in any different sections of the tent and  before she'd consider opening, closing or picking up anything.

Corti breaks into a grin, relieved that her magic worked. She withers a little as she sees Thia glare at Gyselle, confused by her friend's anger. I hope she's okay. That didn't go perfectly, but hopefully, it'll turn out alright. She resolves to check in with Thia later, and as the artificer makes her way into the tent Corti follows her. She speaks up as she walks past the guard, and smiles at him, "That is so kind of you, but please don't worry about it. He'll see it as soon as he comes back, and I wouldn't want you two to catch any heat because of us." She winces, inwardly, at the irony of her statement, but will follow Thia into the tent.

Once inside, Corti will take up a position close to the entry flap, and will try to discretely watch out of it in case Ishmael comes back.

Gyselle stands for a moment outside the tent after first Thia and then Corti enter the tent seeming almost ... star struck at how easily Corti managed to convince the guards to let the group in. So lost in her own thoughts, she barely noticed Thia brushing past her on her way in. ‘If only it had been that easy for me’ she pouts a bit, inwardly to herself as she rocks back and forth a bit, up on to her toes and then backwards on to her heel. As she gathers herself, let’s out a small sigh of relief. ‘Maybe next time I’ll let them do the talking and keep my mouth shut. Should have grabbed different uniforms too’ she thinks looking between the two Crimson Guard.
“Was that so difficult” she says to the pair as she passes them to enter the tent. Once inside the tent, Gyselle stays out of Thia’s way as much as possible helping as needed if she is asked. But otherwise leaves Thia to do the investigating, feeling that any more of her contributions would go the same way as trying to get in the tent in the first place. 

The tent is spacious, and luxuriously hung with furs, laid out with carpets, and warmed by two braziers that also provide some light. It is clear by the decorations inside the tent that Ishmael is not Garronian, but hails instead from the Khalashtar Trade Republics. 

In a small section towards the back, there is a camp bed with a small nightstand at the side, and a large trunk at the footend of the bed, with a heavy lock on it. The camp bed itself is clearly Garronian field issue, but the plump satin pillows and fur covers are further evidence to Ishmael's status as a foreign dignitary. The nightstand holds a small beeswax candle, and opposite the bed, there is a silver wash basin with a small mirror hanging above it. The razor lies on the wide brim of the washing basin.

The main part of the tent is taken up by an array of three tables, two on either side and the last one towards the back end, just off center to leave a gap to get to the sleeping compartment. The two side ones are set up as experimentation tables, with vials, beakers and small burners arrayed on the table, with racks filled with different substances and labelled in alchemical notation stacked up in shelves behind. One side seems to be mostly prepared compounds, while the other contains several examples of the local flora and the corresponding books confimred the two different areas of study. The table in the middle was set up with a travelling bookshelf to the side, containing volumes on history, genealogy, on geography, commerce, but mostly on arcane matters. The table itself is clearly a writing desk, with a set of drawers to the left side, ink pots and quills arrayed on top, and several scrolls and bundles of paper set out on the desk. In the right hand corner there's a small bronze pot with some matches and a stick of sealing wax.

With no idea what she should be looking for, Gyselle looks at Thia “Do you see what you expected? Or something that could be causing the soldiers to get sick?” Thia can tell from the look that Gyselle earnestly wants to help both her and the people she looks after but is a bit out of her depth at the moment. 

Corti glances up from the gap in the tent flap, "Try checking the desk, maybe it'll be like Tarian said and there'll be some sort of correspondence." before returning to her lookout position

Gyselle moves over to the desk and begins rummaging around looking for some sort of correspondence. 

Thia's eyes would fall over the grandeur of the room. She had to snap herself out of an awe over the luxury here in juxtaposition to the conditions the soldiers lived in. To Gyselle's question, the redhead would put her finger to her nose and then point to Corti to confirm her suggestion. "Yes. Any documentation that could prove correspondence of administering, creating, obtaining or distributing." It would probably the more concrete piece of evidence acceptable in a court of law. And probably the most important thing to look for.

Yes, thank you Tarian.

"Drying sludge or ordourless powdered substance could be samples of the Pale Tincture itself. Cursed Cap roots and unripe silky dewberries could be samples of ingredients to make it." But in the quantities it would be needed... If there was anything in here, it would only be a sample.

Yes, thank you Tarian.

But Thia would even settle for evidence of an anti-toxin. "A readily available anti-toxin or ingredients for one also came to mind." She'd glance over to see Gyselle rummaging through. Thia would do her best not to wince. "So yes, let's start with the 'easier' places. Gyselle please look through the desks and the night stands, starting with the writing desk first, then the experimental ones. Plants first out of those two. I would suggest trying to put things back or leave things the way you found it..." She'd remind gently, keeping her voice low the whole time. "Corti, if you're able to pass your eyes over the area between look out, there's something about this..." Thia points out the Khalashtar Trade Republic drapery and decorations. "That's different right?" Something was picking at Thia about it, but she only knew so much about this stuff. "And there's no like hidden spaces or anything behind these drapes or carpets?" She'd wonder outloud hoping Corti or Gyselle could keep an eye out or do a quick sweep in their respective areas of the tent during the search.

Thia's eyes eyes would fall on the large trunk at the foot of the bed. It sported a heavy lock. It was like it taunted her. A trap? Too easy a lure? She'd glance over to Gyselle diligently and sincerely trying her best to help."What do you think girls? Should I?" The redhead would reach for her tool belt to retrieve her thieving tools. She'd then glance over to Corti keeping a watchful eye, looking for a little inspiration. A small smirk would tug at Thia's cheek. They had nothing to lose at this point. Besides, she was the most equipped out of the three here to attempt it. Assuming this could take the most time, Thia figured she could start here first, give the lock a crack before meeting with Gyselle at the alchemy station.

Gyselle, the drawers of the writing desk are locked, apart from the bottom one, which just contains more paper and sealing wax. Thia, although the lock looks heavy, as soon as you start to work on it, you undo the thing. Excited, you open the trunk, only to find several sets of fine clothes, leather boots, and heavy coats. While certainly valuable, this isn't what you're looking for.