Li loads a crossbow bolt. "What if'n these be escapin' and gettin' after people in tha city? Or if'n they be pets of tha bad guy, he may send them ta attack. I be agreein' with Yaziyah in that they bein' unnatural an' I be agreein' with tha doctor that they can't be left."
tag?
Garvid squeaks his boot once again. "Well, you all got a compelling argument. If we get attacked by crazy cave druids, though, it's on you, doctor.", he chuckles, getting ready to thwack the nearest stirge. Nobody ever said this job would be glamorous...
Retrieving Gaekhen's legs, the group carefully sidesteps the stirges feasting on the body (no doubt fuel for the necromantic projects clearly being constructed here). You return to find Mouse in the entry ossuary, tending to the prisoners and trying to keep them calm in the dim light of her glowing stone. Together, you navigate the ancient, cryptic tunnels and emerge back into Potter's Ward, now shaded as the sun creeps behind the massive Grand Cathedral of Pharasma.
-------
You find Cressida in her office, still looking as though she hasn't rested in days. When you describe the state of the Shoanti's body her lip curls and she rubs her temples, clearly fighting off another migraine.
"Very well. So it is. Let me handle the remains. We'll make sure the delicate task of seeing the body is properly handled and returned to Thousand Bones. This is for the best, since the announc--" She cuts herself off abruptly. "Oh, of course! You haven't heard. How could you know?" She stands abruptly, giving you a nearly sympathetic look.
"Not long after you'd left this office, we received word--everyone has received the news from the town criers. Apparently Trinia Sabor's been captured, tried, and sentenced all in the space of a morning. Her execution, it's scheduled at sunset, in just a few hours..."
She says all of this clearly and calmly, though her facial expression and eyes clearly suggest she's bewildered by this.
"I suppose whatever her hiding place, it wasn't good enough? Or else she made the mistake of waltzing into the street on her own?"
"What's more, this execution. It...it's going to be a public affair. The queen has invited nobles, military officers, and anyone of real import to Castle Korvosa's public courtyard to witness the event. Obviously, as official agents of the Guard, I, I need you there. This whole affair it, it just doesn't sit right with me. The way things have been going, I think this may trigger yet more protests and violence."
She drops dramatically into her chair. "I think I need a drink."
Yaziyah taps a finger thoughtfully against her chin as she takes in the Marshal's news. "If it is indeed Trinia, which I doubt. Perhaps Her Majesty has grown tired of failure and decided to... expedite the matter. Although, the execution may be public, but if the trial wasn't - well, I'm not sure those ugly rumours would be put to rest. People do like to think the worst of their rulers." She does sneak a concerned glance at Calcedon though, a question in her eyes. Could it be the real Trinia Sabor that they were going to kill in a few hours? Had they been betrayed?
Returning her attention to Cressida, she adds in a decisive tone: "In any case, now that the matter of the young brave's body has been settled, we should return to the estate to freshen up." She brushes dust and cobwebs from a sleeve to emphasize the point. "We need to look presentable for the- ...for such an official and public event." Body taut and her expression shuttered, she seems to sink in a brooding mood, remembering her own experience with such public events.
Garvid rubs his temples, squeezing his grip. "Abadar's round precious objects, what the s#$* is going on with this city?", he asks rhetorically with a dry tone. "Who was the Arbiter?" He leans on the wall, not really expecting the question's answer to matter.
"Of course there'd be protests. Hanging, burning and decapitation might be normal for Cheliax, but...", he manages to find the control to stop himself. "To put it this way, we all have undying devotion and loyalty to Her Majesty, and she's obviously correct in her resolution of the matter at hand.", he says with a hand over his heart. "But if the exactly same thing happened in any other place, that'd be tyrannical. But not here.", he vents out his frustration.
"I think that'd be best. That office is stressful enough without me stinking it up. Plus, the people at the manor might be worried."
He chuckles at Cressida as she mentions the drink. "Don't think so, boss. You need sleep. Or a couple of really boring weeks."
At Cressida's announcement, Li's hand moves and touches the bracelet that Trinia had given to her. She gotta be safe. Why'd she be leavin' Cal's? We gotta be goin' back an' be findin' out.
Li agrees with Yazi in that they should go back to Cal's. First to check on Fran but also to wash the disgusting filth and smell off of her. The smell of that place had permeated into her hair and Li's nose wrinkled in disgust.
But she weren't...she weren't no idjit. She knowed better th'n t' go walkin' roun'... What if they foun' another girl what looked like 'er, like we was talkin' 'bout before? But then...what'f 's someone what ain't done nothin'? Jus'...wrong place, wrong time? The announcement sends Mouse's head spinning. It just didn't seem possible that the girl cagey enough to put an illusion in place in her apartment...who'd been ready to jump across rooftops in her haste to get away...could possibly have been foolhardy enough to let herself get arrested.
Ain't...ain't none o' your Guard even seen 'er? she pipes up, a bewildered tone in her voice. Peace-keepin's s'posed t' be your folks' job...ain't it? Who was it 'rrested 'er? 'Ow's it you don't know nothin' 'bout it? The questions keep spilling forth, though a part of her jumbled mind begins to realize such forthrightness could be dangerous. I mean...like Garvid said, she finishes lamely. Sure Her Maj'sty knows what she's doin'...but this 'ole thing stinks worse 'n... Suddenly, she becomes keenly aware of the grime dripping from her boots onto the worn flooring, and the smears of filth across her clothes. ...well, stinks worse 'n me, tell y' th' truth. Miss Yazi's right, Marshal - we gotta be fresh for...for... The unspoken final words hang heavy in the air. For the hanging.
Mouse falls silent for several moments, a conflicted look in her dark eyes. What if she - Even now, she keeps the name unspoken. - what 'f she ain't 'ome? What 'f 's 'er they got? Or...what 'f t'isn't? We can't...can't let...
Pietro is surprised, "It can't be her. She's no longer a blonde and we made it very clear that she was in danger."
He looks at Cal, "No one in your house would betray her on purpose but what about if they talked to the wrong people. is that possible?"
He then agreed with the others, "Let's get back there and find out for sure. In any event, we should all be present at the execution."
He dared ask, "Is it possible to break her out? Whoever she is?"
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Garvid turns to Cressida. "Whoah, boss. Got really loud here all of a sudden, right? It's really, really windy in this place.", he says casually, turning to stare intently at both Mouse and Pietro. Really, people? Might as well invite the queen over, and tell her we don't really like her. "Should get that window checked, I think."
"Yeah, definitely getting really loud in here. I think it's from outside, boss. I'm sure you've got plenty of paperwork to do, so we'll be leaving you to it. We'll check that ungodly ruckus, too, while we're at it.", he says, nodding at the door.
-----------------------------------------------------
Once outside, he grins grimly, shaking his head unbelievingly. "Well, people, that was a display of absolute balls. I bet the last place people expect us to talk about harbouring the most wanted of Korvosa is in the Field Marshal's office." He lets out a barking laugh at the situation. "Ah.", he chuckles again. "Not saying you weren't right, though. Let's go to Cal's and talk there. I'd say that the walls have ears these days, but it might be getting to the point soon there's a helluva lot of walls around the ears in Korvosa."
He picks up his halberd, looking around. "Not really sure how comfortable I'd be with breaking someone out of that place, even if it is her...", he spits on the dirty cobblestone. "I'm all for picking a fight with someone above my paygrade, but that's too much. If we're to do it, we need to know where she is, go in and out. And then they get someone to find her magically, and we're f~&!ed harder than a succubus in a monastery." He speeds up his pace, trying to keep up with everyone else. "At the least, we need a bath."
Back at the manor, Garel ushers you into the main hall, then immediately marches you back out, into the garden, and toward the mud room. ”This smell just won’t do. You’re filthy, the lot of yea, beggin’ yer pardon Firs’ Char.”
”Fran? Don’t be worryin’ about her, then. We’re all safe as houses, we is. She’s been out in the garden, weedin’ the hydrangeas, ever since we heard the news. FRAAAN!”
With a hop and a skip, “Fran” comes bounding around the hedgework, her auburn hair wet and sticking to her forehead with sweat. ”Oi, you’re back! Been worried sick, we were. Didn’t know what t’make of this announcement. I mean, it’s right clear no one’s executin’ me. But maybe it’s a trick, t’lure me out into the open? Of course you’ll go then. But me? As much as I’d like to know what’s goin’ on, the whole business seems funny. Off, like, ya know?”
Li's face brightens as Fran makes her appearance. "Ya be safe! I be knowin' ya be smarter than ta be leavin' here." It was the first time that Li considered the public execution was a trap for Trinia. Until now she had just thought the Queen was trying to save face and make this mess disappear. "We be goin' 'cause our presence be ask'd fer. If'n I didn't have ta be goin', I wouldn't. Especially if'n it be a trap fer tha real Trinia. It be too much of a risk."
Ain't no way you're goin', Fran, Mouse quickly chimes in with a smile, relief at the girl's appearance clear in her voice. Not worth th' chance, an' it ain't somethin' you'll wanna see. Like Li said, I woul'n't even be goin' if it weren't jus' short o' official duty f'r us. Mouse was no stranger to death and gore...but making such a spectacle of capital punishment left a bad taste in her mouth. And knowing that the "convicted" was a random stranger, sentenced to hang for the crime of poor luck...
There's 'nother problem, too, she adds in, turning to include Pietro and Garvid in her musings. Fran's righ', sayin' this migh' be a trap...but 'f 'tis, what'f she ain't the only one they're baitin'? Only folk who'd know it ain't the righ' person hangin'd be Trinia or someone who knowed she weren't arrested...someone who was 'elpin' 'er. An' someone who's already helpin' one fugi- She trips slightly over the unfamiliar word. - fugitive'd be more likely t' step out 'n 'elp another. What'f they're expectin' someone t' try breakin' out whoever they got, tryin' t' draw out those've been 'elpin' Trinia?
A nervous laugh echoes the final vowel of the escapee's name. If so, they're keepin' th' place even more guarded th'n usual, I'd bet...which means doin' somethin' at th' execution's gonna be righ' out, they'd stop us too quick. We'd 'ave t' get there before in order t' do any good... Mouse sits on a large ornamental rock, flicking a chunk of grime off her boot. An' we don' know where she's bein' kept, 'cept that 't'ain't the Citadel. We got nothin' t' go on. Nothin' we c'n do, 'cept pick 'tween watchin' this poor girl hang or join 'er ourselves. Angrily, she kicks at the ground, and a large chunk of grass and matted roots flies away from her toe.
A nervous laugh echoes the final vowel of the escapee's name. If so, they're keepin' th' place even more guarded th'n usual, I'd bet...which means doin' somethin' at th' execution's gonna be righ' out, they'd stop us too quick. We'd 'ave t' get there before in order t' do any good... Mouse sits on a large ornamental rock, flicking a chunk of grime off her boot. An' we don' know where she's bein' kept, 'cept that 't'ain't the Citadel. We got nothin' t' go on. Nothin' we c'n do, 'cept pick 'tween watchin' this poor girl hang or join 'er ourselves. Angrily, she kicks at the ground, and a large chunk of grass and matted roots flies away from her toe.
Pietro was also relieved that Fran was still at Cal's. He had been cringing at the idea that his hair dye had washed away or something but smiled when the non-blonde showed up.
He turned to Mouse, "So if we can't do anything about this then why are we even going? Are we supposed to be booing when the executioner comes on stage or something?"
"So if we can't do anything about this then why are we even going?"
You got any ideas? Mouse retorts, her face twisting in frustration. Speak up 'f so, 'cause I don't fancy th' idea o' watchin' someone what ain't done nothin' hang jus' f'r bein' poor 'n unlucky, either!
Unconsciously, her fist slams into the stone beneath her with a thud; she sucks in a sharp breath at the impact, and the rigid lines of anger soften. Sorry...'s not y'r fault, I know...'s jus', I ain't never been no good at this. Always been th' one followin' everyone else's plans - never much got asked 'bout makin' 'em. If anyone else's got a way t' get both us an' 'er out o' this wit'out a noose 'round the neck, tell me. "Poor 'n unlucky"'s a bit too close t' 'ome f'r me t' sit back an' do nothin' if there's somethin' can be done.
In contrast to the uncertainty gripping the city, the sun continues its relentless path to the west. As it dips low toward the horizon, church bells begin to toll. Normally a sound of hope, no doubt they send a dose of terror into the person whose execution is nigh. Uncertain of her own fate, Fran remains at the manor under the supervision of the string and brass sections. The rest of you march toward the castle.
________________________
The execution is not an affair to be missed. The toast of Korvosa is in attendance in garish gowns, fine capes, and enough jewels to blind the common citizen. The overall feel of the event is that of a grand ball or party, not an assassin’s public execution.
You barely find room to move, crowded into the public square like fish in barrels.
Queen Ileosa emerges amid a great flourish and pomp as heralds announce her arrival with a fanfare of music and drums. She has fully accepted the mantle of sole monarch now, and carries herself with poise, style, and grace. She wears a green and floral silk dress worth thousands of gold coins and is attended by a small army of guards in striking, brand-new suits of full-plate armor with a closed helm sporting a flowing crimson plume.
Ileosa takes her seat in a high throne-like chair at one end of the public courtyard, while a guillotine stands ominously at the other. The executioner is a towering, muscular man wearing an executioner’s hood and idly holding an immense axe. Whispers ripple through the assemblage—admiring comments on the queen’s attire, predictions regarding how the traitor Trinia might comport herself, and speculations on the identity of the armored guardians who stand at Ileosa’s side.
Then, as an ominous drum beating begins, the gawkers fall silent. The girl is brought forth, hooded and bound. The drum sets the pace for Trinia’s procession to the executioner’s block. As they reach the block, a guard removes Trinia’s shackles and the hood, revealing…
a very frightened young, blonde woman who might pass for Trinia in a darkened bar. But you know better.
This secondary scapegoat bravely holds back her tears. “Trinia” is led up to stand before the guillotine, her arms bound behind her back by a leather cord. Queen Ileosa stands ceremonially, dramatically surveying the scene before she addresses the crowd.
“Fellow Korvosans!” the Queen begins. ” You have suffered greatly these past few weeks. Homes have burned, family members have died, and fortunes have been lost. I feel your suffering, for not only have I lost a beloved husband, but with each act of anarchy that followed, my heart has bled more.” She places one hand over her heart and points the other at the Trinia imposter. Her words take on a more emotional, almost angry tone. ”This has been a trying time for us, yet the torment is at an end. Before you is the source of your anguish and pain.” Gasps and cries fly up from the audience. Some do not believe such a delicate creature could murder a king. Ileosa wheels on the assassin and stares at her with accusing eyes. ”Do not be deceived by this murderer’s timid nature—she is a black-hearted assassin! I offer you her death as a salve against the hatred and hurt you have suffered!”
Turning back to the crowd, nearly wild-eyed, the Queen screams with all her breath. “And so, without further delay, let us usher in this new dawn with justice! Let us cleanse our city of filth and criminality. Out with the rabble! Out with her ilk! Onward to Justice! OFF WITH HER HEAD!”
The hooded executioner grabs the girl mercilessly by the shoulders, shoving her forcefully down to her knees before the guillotine. Yet just before he forces her into the device, he cries out in pain as a hurled dagger embeds itself in the back of his hand!
As the executioner’s grip on “Trinia” falters, a cry echoes through the crowded courtyard: “By the gods! It’s Blackjack!” screams a filthy boy in the crowd.
An instant later, a man dressed in a hooded cloak and black mask springs up to Trinia’s side. Using a dagger, he cuts the bonds on Trinia’s wrists and then throws the same dagger down to pin the executioner’s left foot to the wood platform. He then turns to address the shocked crowd.
“Yes indeed, my queen! Let us usher in justice, but let that be justice for Korvosa, not this shambles you call a monarchy! Long live Korvosa! Down with the queen!”
Blackjack’s words cause the crowd to erupt into action. Some demand that he release the assassin while others call for the queen’s resignation. Queen Ileosa stands stunned for a few moments, whispers something to her nearest guard, and then quickly turns to flee into Castle Korvosa, a dozen guards behind her to cover her retreat. The remaining guards in the courtyard move to apprehend Blackjack, but the gathered nobles, thirsty for blood, make it difficult to move. At the same time, the executioner recovers from his wounds and lifts his axe over Blackjack, who seems to have momentarily forgotten the man in his apparent delight at having forced the queen to flee.
Li's stomach twisted as 'Trinia' is paraded before the crowd. I be lookin' more like Trinia than her. If'n tha doctor hadn't be changin' me hair an' if'n I be alone in tha streets, that could have been me. Pick'd up by guards, miss'd by no one. The rogue looked at her feet, not wanting to watch the farce of an execution. She had enjoyed the drama of Cal's play when imagined but it was something entirely different when real. It's not like they could do anything to help. So many knew of their link to the Field Marshal and they had had a meeting with the Queen. To openly act would mean to be labeled a traitor.
When someone yelled out about Blackjack, Li's head snaps up and she looks around. Someone had acted when they couldn't. She watches in horror as the executioner appears poised to cut down Blackjack. Before she can stop herself she yells, "Move!
Knowing that he could very well be recognized (maybe even by his own family members), Pietro used one of formulae to change his appearance. After he drank the alchemical concoction, his face changed and he seemed to have grown a foot with the associated weight loss. He wore simple clothes, a far cry from his normal attire.
----------
Pietro winced when seeing the girl. Wrong place, wrong time. Poor girl.
He considered trying to rescue her but only briefly. The sheer mass of people would make this impossible. He looked around disgusted at the blood lust on people's faces.
---------
When Blackjack showed up, Pietro smiled. He wanted to help but was very concerned with repercussions. But seeing the city's savior in danger pushed him over the edge. Besides, no one would this was Dr. Pietro. he just need to get away.
He smiled and threw a frost bomb at the executioner, hoping to slow him down so Blackjack could get away.
Garvid frowns as he sees an unfamiliar girl being passed as Trinia. That's low., he thinks as he slowly pushes his way forward, approaching the first rows.
As Blackjack shows up, his frown changes to surprise for a second, then goes back. What the hell is going on... We have to count on f!++ing vigilantes to do the right thing..., he thinks, as he reaches into his coat to feel the grip of a dagger. Instead of openly choosing a side, however, he chooses a different route. He stands next to the nobles, pulling out the dagger. "Run, Abadar damnit!", he shouts at the crowd. "Come on, people, move it, it's getting dangerous in here!", he shouts at the crowds, pointing towards the guards and the direction the queen was going. Fingers crossed, they delay the guards a bit more. And if the guards start to chop people down, I'm about to start chopping guards down...
, he bellows out in a noble's face, quietly enjoying the opportunity to do so.
Mouse can hardly stand to watch as the young unfortunate is led up the platform to the executioner's block, and the fair Queen's invective makes her stomach turn. 'Er Maj'sty's gotta know this ain't the righ' girl...'f Trinia came t' visit 'Is Maj'sty so much, the Queen'd 'ave t' know 'er real face... If she's so set on justice for 'Is Maj'sty, she'd wanna know it's th' righ' person. Which means this's all a setup...she's killin' a girl what ain't done nothin'...but why? Jus' t' get folks t' calm down? Or...tryin' t' cover up what done really happened? It cou'n't be...
And then, through the stream of sedition in Mouse's mind, the crowd's new shouts cut like a knife through butter. Grab the whore girl! one woman screams, adjusting her elaborate wig; down with the whore queen! a man bellows as he grips the ornate head of his cane. And there stands the supposed traitor, rubbing feeling back into her hands where the leather cord had cut off the blood flow...the hero of Korvosa, exulting in his triumph over injustice...the executioner raising his axe to cut the city's hopes down...and Mouse knows what she has to do.
Watch out - she'll get away! Deception had never been Mouse's game, but she had to try; her reputation may not have counted for much, but there were too many others' fortunes tied up with hers now. Rushing to the executioners' block, she makes as if to rush Blackjack. But at the last moment, one toe catches on a wide crack between the platform's boards. Her feet wheel around each other, seeming to scrabble for purchase. And Mouse launches past the mystery man whipping the crowd into a frenzy, landing her weight squarely in the executioner's gut as he prepares to swing.
The crowd is in chaos. As the queen’s crimson-clad security force covers her retreat into the castle, the Guard begin a futile attempt to quell the crowd--or, least, direct them away from the castle. Garvid’s maneuvering doesn’t help, as the panicked nobles at the front edge of the crowd are quickly placed in peril by the risk of being trampled as a the crowd surges in various directions at once. Screams and pleas rise up, most mentioning their historic family names, beseeching the Guard to save them. Their efforts are thus bifurcated between controlling the rabble and protecting the nobles.
”Move!”
At Li’s warning, Blackjack spins around, a triumphant grin still upon his face, and flaps his black cape like a sail to distract the executioner. The man is suddenly unsure where to strike, and so his axe cuts deeply into the wood of the platform on which they stand. As he struggles to remove the blade, Pietro’s frost bomb explodes only a foot or so away, splashing him with its frigid contents. Mouse leaps past the Guard and up onto the stage, feigning an attack on Blackjack but ultimately clobbering the freezing executioner. Stabbed, frozen, and now beaten, he falls backward, unconscious.
With a bow and a flourish toward Mouse, Blackjack holds the Trinia imposter close and ducks toward the edge of the stage. He clambers up a hanging banner to a nearby wall, hauling her up behind him. As the two reach the wall, he swiftly quaffs a potion. He bows directly in your direction, giving a small salute and a wry smile while backlit by the setting sun. He even draws and raises his rapier in salute before both he and "Trinia" leap from the wall to make their escape into the city.
Mouse girl, come!” Yazi calls through the din, urging Mouse back out of the limelight and into the anonymity of the crowd. As she joins the others, Yazi’s eyes fog over as she speaks to her spirits, summoning a dense cloud of fog through which you are able to travel without being seen.
Around you, the tone of the crowd changes, and you notice a sizable majority of screams now praising Blackjack and calling for the Queen’s head instead. Overhead, a flag bearing the crest of Korvosa beats in the wind, driven on by a rising gale from the Varisian sea.
_______________
The days following Blackjack’s surprise are quietly tense, though the city streets buzz with an invisible energy. No two accounts of Trinia’s botched execution are exactly the same. Some report that the Queen was booed from the stage, bombarded with rotten food and excrement. Other accounts report that she seized Blackjack with her own bare hands, wrestling him to the ground even before Sabina Merrin was able to react. Some report the presence of a group of vigilantes who tried to hinder Blackjack, while others swear they were his provocateurs, inciting a riot intentionally to cover his escape back into the city streets.
Still, despite the churning of the rumor mill, much of the city’s disorder has quieted. There is evidence of a slow acceptance of Queen Ileosa as Korvosa’s new sovereign and some have dared to hope that the city is returning to a state of near normalcy. Yet the scars of the recent upheaval are still evident on many buildings.
House Fordyce remains a sort of sanctuary from the urban wilderness beyond its borders. Calcedon’s recent improvements to the property, as well as its new human occupants, have brought a sense of vitality back into the home as effervescent as any it has ever known. True, some of the spires are cracked, and the foundation has seen better days, but within its walls one can find a sense of community, of family, of belonging.
Cal arranges for a series of book collectors to come and survey the collection recently acquired from the warrens beneath Potter’s Ward. The high bidder, an associate library curator from The Acadamae itself, arrives at sunset the following evening to collect the books and pay his price. The coin purse falls heavily into Mouse’s hands.
Garvid comes back to the manor, chuckling. "Well, well. Haven't been to the library in, hell, ages. And never for books, mind you. This place is having an impression. You'd be surprised on what I found on Blackjack."
"Been struggling to get whatever I can about that vigilante for a while. Not that we mind them, but good to know. Get the feeling, we'd all have parts to play in whatever the hell's going to happen to this Abadar forsaken place, right?"
He goes into what he calls 'the main room', and continues his slow, yet methodical decimation of House Fordyce's alcohol storage, pours himself a drink and sits on a chair next to the window. Should probably start filling the damn place up, though. Nobody likes a freeloader.
"Some stories, huh?", he chuckles, reminding himself of the rumours roaming the streets. "So, what's your favourite? I'm a big fan of the one where the queen breathed fire on Blackjack, only to find out that the saviour of Korvosa is wreathed in the scales of justice, and thus fireproof." He shakes his head. "I swear, whoever said truth is stranger than fiction hasn't read all that much fiction.",
As Calcedon finally makes an appearance in the main room, he stands up, gesturing towards the bottle. "So, Lordship. Was thinking, there's going to be plenty of masonry and... whatever the hell wood masonry is called, I don't f*#@ing know." He crosses his arms. "I know we can't get guilds in Korvosa, but it might be good to keep an eye out on someone exploiting the workers, or the workers exploiting people. Desperate times call for despicable decisions, as they say."
Yaziyah speaks quietly to the image in the mirror. "You know I don't like doing this. It is your magic, not mine." Despite her protestations, she pulls the Harrow deck out of a skirt pocket and settles at the table for a reading.
She had spent the last few days talking to the Shoanti community, paying her respects to Gaekhen's family and discreetly advising all to make preparations, should the city erupt again into unrest and chaos. She does not believe that the queen will take her public defeat quietly or willingly. And this Blackjack is an intriguing character, so she makes inquiries.
”Miss Yazi?” Blister asks uncertainly as the woman begins speaking into the mirror. ”Go on girl, and fetch the others,” Yazi commands as she readies the drawing room.
In only a few minutes, Blister has rounded up Calcedon, Garvid, Li, Mouse, and Pietro, who all come rushing into the room. The heavy, dusty drapes are drawn across the windows, allowing only the faintest bit of the morning’s light to enter. Yaziyah sits calmly and purposefully at the table, a single candle illuminating the neatly stacked deck to her left. Her eyes are closed.
Blister and the other Lambs peek in from the doorway, but a stern look from Garvid sends them scurrying out onto the lawn.
”:::Sit.:::” The voice seems to come from every corner of the room. The table’s chairs slide back, pulled by unseen hands. Hesitant, you all take your seats.
Yazi’s expression remains motionless as she slides the deck center before her. As she lays her fingertips on the top card, her eyes flutter open. At the same moment, every candle and lamp within the room ignites at once. Even the fireplace whooshes to life. The fires cast their shadows, which dance mysteriously around the room.
Yazi’s eyes are milk-white, and when she speaks, her voice carries an unearthly timbre. Despite the warmth, her breath fogs.
”My friends. I am glad you are well. The time has come again to listen to the cards. They burn to speak, to be heard, and I cannot deny them.”
”First, the past. These cards signify things that have come to pass, or forces that have acted upon you to bring you here.”
Yazi’s hands select the top three cards and lays them face-down in a vertical line. She selects three more cards, placing them in a parallel line just to the right of the first. ”Then, the present. Events that are occurring even as we speak that may bear on our fortunes.”
Drawing three more cards, she places them on the table, completing a three-by-three grid. ”And, of course, the future, your fate, the inescapable truth of destiny.”
She begins by revealing the left-most column, those cards representing the past:
The Midwife
The Hidden Truth
The Brass Dwarf
”The Midwife, the conduit of creation. She breathes new information into the world. Here she signals revelation and the emergence of new knowledge.”
”The Hidden Truth, symbolic of secrets revealed. With the aid of another, you have uncovered something secret. Or, perhaps, someone else has uncovered secrets about you.”
”The Brass Dwarf, a true juggernaut. Where others have failed, he has endured. You have faced difficult trials, but emerged victorious.”
She then turns over the middle column, representing the present. Her brow wrinkles in concern.
The Forge
The Uprising
The Liar
”The Forge, a symbol of strength. Yet while the Blacksmith endures the fire, the forge is so hot it burns many to ash. You now face a danger that you can overcome, but at great cost.”
”The Uprising. You are caught in the clutches of something much more powerful than yourselves, an overwhelming force that crushes and drowns anything it comes into contact with. The crown, held high, represents the overthrowing of a ruler.”
”The Liar. This card represents an intense passion, an obsession even. To achieve its goal, the Liar will sacrifice almost anything, deceiving even those it once loved.”
Finally, Yazi reveals the last column, a prediction of your future. Her blank white eyes grow wide in horror.
The Eclipse
The Carnival
The Cricket
”The Eclipse! What is done becomes undone. What is known fades into obscurity. Faith in the divine shall wane, as prayers will go unanswered. This card heralds dark fortunes for the those who follow the gods.”
”And here, the Carnival, perfectly aligned! It is the bringer of illusions and false dreams. It is the card of arcane power, further suggesting the fall of the clergy. Men of faith shall cry in the streets, as their walls of faith crumble around them.”
”And finally, the Cricket. He represents speed. Whatever affliction the Eclipse presages, it shall arrive with great speed and unstoppable enertia.”
Yazi’s brow glistens with sweat, her lips dry and parched.
”There is yet a final step. The Choosing.” The cards float across the table, reassembling and shuffling themselves back into the deck. Six cards emerge, hovering slowly above the table before falling gently into place before each of you.
Yaziyah gasps and coughs. Just as quickly as they appear, the fires lightning the room die out, save the single candle upon the table. Zellara has gone.
Calcedon - The Brass Dwarf
Garvid - The Survivor
Li - The Tangled Briar
Mouse - The Desert
Pietro - The Sickness
Yazi - The Waxworks
Li may not be as scared this time when Zellara manifested through Yaziyah but she was no less confused. She picks up her Choosing card and looks at it with a frown. "What is bein' tha meanin' ta this? If'n tha cards be wantin' ta speak an' be heard then why can't she be more clear? All tha talk of faith an' magics fer tha future be beyond me. But I be doubtin' that any talk of destiny be involvin' what I be knowin' or bein' good at."
She looks at her card again and mutters, "That just doesn't be lookin' like anythin' good."
Pietro's previous reluctance to believe in the Harrow Deck was long gone as the gypsy manifested once more.
His concern for the future only grew as the cards were revealed.
As his turn came, he drew his card and smiled, "What is this? Some sort of joke? I get it; I get the sickness card because I'm a doctor. I deal with sickness every day so this doesn't scare me."
He scoffed, "Is there a hidden meaning that I'm not aware of?"
As the card drifts before her, Mouse reaches out, catching it before it can touch the tabletop. Bringing it close, she begins to study it, her eyes locking onto the eyes of the sphinx standing sentinel over the empty wastelands. They's s'posed t' be meta...metaf...somethin' more 'n what's righ' on 'em, mmhmm? So, like, mine's got a...human-cat thing on it, an' a bunch o' sand. It prob'ly ain't meant I'm goin' t' Katapesh soon - could be more like some kind o' shortfall's comin'. Runnin' out o' food 'round 'ere, or somethin'. The young half-elf looks wary at the thought; furtively, she glances around the opulent (by her standards) drawing room, as if reassuring herself of her new status.
Or, Miss Zellara was talkin' lots 'bout losin' faith 'n some such - maybe 's some kind o' loneliness 's talkin' 'bout. Th' cat-thing looks like 's holdin' someone up...maybe it means I'm s'posed t' be th' one 'elpin' someone else through some kind o' hardship? By now Mouse's brow is furrowed in concentration; with a heavy sigh, she sets the card on the table. You ain't half wrong, Li - it sure 'nough ain't abundantly clear. But I think tha's how you gotta look at it...feelin's an' such, not jus' th' thing as is there.
There’s a sharp knock on the front door.
You’ve barely had time to examine your cards as Garel shuffles through the entry hall, peeking out through a tiny hole in the door.
”’s the Field Marshal again. Maybe we should prepare a room for’r, since she’s becomin’ a regular guest?”
”No, no, that simply wouldn’t do,” Cal responds. ”You know we need the rooms for storage. Where else would we hide the tubas? There's six of them, for goodness sake!” With a warm smile, Cal himself shows Cressida into the home. As usual, she stations her men at the door, entering the parlor alone. Today she is dressed in full uniform, longsword sheathed to her belt.
She salutes. ”I beg your pardon. I know that weaponry in the sitting room is rude. These days, I’d rather take no chances.”
When offered a seat, she holds up her hand, declining. ”Thank you, no. I shouldn’t stay long. I shouldn’t be seen here at all, really. That business at the execution sounds like such a strange affair. I’m almost relieved I wasn’t in attendance. Of course, I’ve no idea who might have interfered with the execution. Who could say for sure, what with all the chaos? How are the members of the cast, anyway? Is everyone accounted for?”
She flexes her hands nervously, looking around. ”My it’s warm in here. Did you have the fireplace burning? Anyway, I’m afraid I’ve come bearing some disturbing news…””
”I’ve received word that Queen Ileosa intends to...restructure several elements of the city’s military organizations. Rumors of disbanding some or even all of the groups in favor of new organizations are on many lips, and with events running the way they have of late, I’m afraid the Queen’s, ah, limited experience on the throne is going to result in some poor or even disastrous decisions.”
She shakes her head. ”I don’t mean to imply any bad motives, of course. It’s just that naivete and ignorance can be so dangerous. This business with Trinia Sabor, it leaves me especially worried for Korvosa’s future.”
”Oh, you haven’t heard? The Queens personal security force, these Gray Maidens, are out scouring the city as we speak, searching diligently for the girl. The castle has even offered an enormous bounty: five thousand gold sails!”
She takes that seat after all. ”Events are moving swiftly, and in a direction I don’t much like. Most important for you, I fear that the Guard’s ability to finance your operation will almost certainly be diminished as the new leadership realigns and restructures elements of the Guard. I even worry that my position as Field Marshal may be in jeopardy. But my goal isn’t to make waves. I want to cling to this job as tenaciously as possible so at least I can remain in a position to do some good, to protect the men and women of the Guard I’ve grown to trust. I feel responsible for their well-being. I just couldn’t stop.”
”All of this is my way of informing you that, for all of our best interests, you should no longer consider yourselves agents of the Guard.”
”But,” she continues quickly, raising a hand, ”I still hope you’ll continue to fight for what’s right, for Korvosa and her citizens? I promise to aid you as much as I can, but I can foresee a time in the near future when the power of the Guard may not be enough to protect you. The tide of change is coming, and I just don’t know where it will lead. There are whispers of a revolution. I wouldn’t dare go that far. But having a group of, of specialists like yourselves on hand may mean the difference between life and death for the city.”
Garvid takes the card, grunting. "Well, s*%!'s about to go down hard, again, and we're right in the centre of it.", he grins grimly. "Clear as mud, as always, Zellara, but at the very least confirms our fears that it's not all going to be peachy from now on.", he summarises, tilting his chair backwards. "Though, she's been right so far. Won't be a bad idea to remember that thing, if we happen to...", he says, leaning forward towards the table. "...see any suspicious wizards picking on poor priests..."
He puts the card on top of the deck, taking a good, long look. "Well, crippled is better than dead, I guess.", he puts on his familiar dark grin again.
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Standing up to give an informal salute, Garvid greets the Field Marshal. "Boss.", he says, starting to listen attentively. Halfway, he interrupts.
"That's a load of b$~&!+%&, boss.", he says laconically, an idea popping in his mind. "Tell you what, I got a plan. What if we show the queen and the people that these Gray Maidens are incompetent in what they're doing? We go out, put some hoods on. Break some arms and legs, nothing permanent, of course.", he interjects before someone can interrupt him, "Humiliate them in public, and then the Guard, or even the birdbrains go in and do what they failed to do, show their obvious superiority. Not really looking forward to having protectors that put the Throne above the City." He shrugs. "Don't give a s!!# how better they might be in combat. Same s##% as the Hellknights, they'd pack in the pickpockets and the working girls, and let the bosses and s*!* go."
He frowns as he's given the last message. "Well, guess it's official, then. Going to hurt like hell to take all those insignias off, boss...", he says somberly, pointing towards his halberd leaning on the fireplace. Well that's just a cart-load of ox s~*$., he sighs. "So, where do you think that Trinia is? The real one, the one that was saved by that malicious vigilante.", he chuckles. "Not that we'd in any way interject with the Gray Maidens' efforts, of course." He takes a look at the Harrow deck. "And... I can't believe I'm telling you this s@*&, Old Man Krein would tell it off as old wives' talk, but... f$!$ it, it's some divination magic b#@*$&*@tery, so it's magic and not superstition.", he says, pointing towards the deck
"Uh... There might be something else entirely coming in soon, something coming in bad and fast. If something rubs you the wrong way in an investigation, something a bit off, we'd be glad to do something... what was that Thassilonian phrase... Pro Bono Publico!", he chuckles.
Pietro was new to the group and hadn't really worked with the field marshal but it was easy to see that she was passionate about the people of Korvosa.
He echoed Garvid's warning, "Yes, if you're a believer and it's kind of hard not to be these days, then something is going to shake up the town.
He added, "I would be more than happy to continue to provide services for the good of the people. My profession allows me to do so without seeking payment."
He looked a his companions, "I'm sure the rest feel the same way. And I can spot any of you some money if needed."
Yaziyah passes a tired hand over her face as she regains control of herself. "By the spirits, how I hate it when she does this. Like a passenger in my own head." She shudders, then leans over the table to examine the cards. "These cards aren't any clearer to me than they are to any of you. But I know this: uncertainty breeds fear, and fear breeds all sorts of nasty things. Some people are not above taking advantage of such circumstances. People who are afraid can be easily manipulated, reaching for some shred of certainty, safety, protection. I would not be surprised if all manner of cults would start springing up at a time like this. Perhaps that is the meaning of these cards - reason withers in the face of fear, superstition takes root, established order crumbles." She shrugs self-effacingly, as if to blunt the sharpness of her words.
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"How are the members of the cast, anyway? Is everyone accounted for?"
"Yes, they're all accounted for, Marshal, thank you for your concern." As the Marshal continues speaking, Yaziyah glances at Garvid. "Some of these organizations could do with some reorganizing, but now is not a good time for it. Leaving aside all question of the quality of the queen's decision making," she adds with a sly smile. "Have no worry on our behalf, Marshal. We will continue to do our best by Korvosa and its citizens. All its citizens."
With the news that the Grey Maidens were actively seeking for 'Trinia', Li leans over to the doctor and says, "I guess I be needin' ya ta be keepin' me hair like this fer some time yet. Is that bein' ok? Fer 5000 gold sails, if'n me hair be blonde, then soon people be sayin' I'm Trinia."
Hesitantly addressing the Field Marshal, Li asks, "Is there be anythin' ya want us ta be doin' unofficial-like? Or were ya just comin' ta tell us we be outta work?" Which was perfectly fine with Li considering she always felt weird being part of the Guard. Maybe her talents would be better used in the future when laws change and chaos ensues.
5000 sails reward, an' I might well get took f'r Trinia, Mouse replies with the ghost of a chuckle to Li's comment. In truth, the news that she was no longer officially in the Guard's employ didn't bother her much - it was almost freeing, really. The steady pay had been comforting, but she already had what seemed like a lifetime's fortune stashed away beneath her bed upstairs, so it wouldn't be missed too much.
And not having to worry about the politics of the position, the effect every word and action would have on an entire organization, an entire city...well, she wouldn't miss it. Besides, she was used to working, well, outside the established order. If she could continue to do some good without the straightjacket of an official position, so much the better. Well, Field Marshal...soun's like I'm out o' a job, don' it? 'F y' know anyone needs some in'epen'ent work done...y' know where t' fin' me.
With the news that the Grey Maidens were actively seeking for 'Trinia', Li leans over to the doctor and says, "I guess I be needin' ya ta be keepin' me hair like this fer some time yet. Is that bein' ok? Fer 5000 gold sails, if'n me hair be blonde, then soon people be sayin' I'm Trinia."
Pietro smiled, "And I'm guessing that my hair dye just became much more valuable."
He quickly added, "Of course I'll help you and we can even change that color if it's not to your liking."
He looked at his companions, "Well, I have some face creams to put on my paying customers and I'm sure I have lots of people in need of my free services. What will the rest of you be doing?"
”Tell you what, I got a plan. What if we show the queen and the people that these Gray Maidens are incompetent in what they're doing? We go out, put some hoods on. Break some arms and legs, nothing permanent, of course.”
Cressida shakes her head nervously. ”No, no. We may be cutting the official strings that bind us together, but I could never recommend something so extreme. Were it even a matter of simple, brute force, this wouldn’t be an issue. The Gray Maidens are yet small in number, after all.”
”But there is more at stake here. For one thing, the Maidens are agents of the crown itself, funded from the castle’s own coffers. You saw their remarkable armor and regalia. I’ve heard they are even headed by Sabina Merrin, the queen’s bodyguard and plaything. No one’s seen her in days, at any rate, and my guess is she’s hiding behind one of those crimson-plumed helms. Attack the Gray Maidens, and you’ll draw the castle’s scrutiny the same way as this Trinia Sabor. Do you want to be hunted in the streets?”
”For another thing, I’m not sure these Maidens don’t serve an important purpose, afterall. As far as I can tell, they’re simply the result of an increase in the castle’s personal security force. The Guard has been stretched thin, as you well know. Without the castle and the Queen’s security, they do free my soldiers to perform other, necessary tasks.”
”Now, speaking of Trinia, and to answer your question Garvid, I couldn’t say where this Blackjack and the girl have gone. It’s quite possible they’ve left the city, even with the Maidens on high alert.”
”... There might be something else entirely coming in soon, something coming in bad and fast. If something rubs you the wrong way in an investigation, something a bit off, we'd be glad to do something... what was that Thassilonian phrase... Pro Bono Publico!”
”Yes, if you're a believer and it's kind of hard not to be these days, then something is going to shake up the town.”
”Gods I hope you’re joking,” Cressida says, looking stricken at the thought. ”But...alright. I’ll try to keep an open mind…”
She stands, smoothing her trousers. ”Well, I needs be off. As I said, it won’t do to be seen rubbing elbows at the Fordyce estate too long. Especially now. No, Li, I haven’t an assignment for you presently. But I will contact you if I…we need you. And thanks,” she finishes with a smile, ”It’s good to know I’m not the only one losing sleep over all of this.”
Cressida departs from the manor quickly and quietly, heading east toward Endrin Square on no doubt some official business. She looks back as she hits the road, an almost wistful look on her face. Then she disappears into the crowds.
It isn’t until she’s left that you notice the parchment, folded neatly and sealed with wax, tucked discretely into the cushion in which Cressida had taken a seat.
The Note
Pietro's face turns a shade of red as re remembers his clumsy days at the academy.
"As I've told you all before when I saw Vencarlo last, I know that place. At one time, my parents wanted to teach me some noble swordplay but I was not very interested."
He shrugs, "Still, one is never too old to learn and even though I'll use my alchemist items to fight, self-defense is never out of place."
He looks at the others, "I'm up for going. If nothing else it will be a nostalgic trip to memory lane. Just let me know who wants to accompany me and when's a good time."
Li nodded. "I be interested in goin' with ya. It be good ta learn better self-defense. I'm good ta go anytime since I'm unemployed an' all."
"Gods I hope you’re joking."
Garvid laughs. "Don't worry, boss. We're not about to start being all superstitious here. Both feet on the ground, except on Toilday evening, when both hands and the face join the feet in the ditch." He scratches his head. "Right on the Maidens, though. Not worth it. Heard a story or two about Merrin, and I'd sure as hell wouldn't want to face her without a ballista or two behind my back." He grins. "Take care of Korvosa, boss. And yourself."
As the note is discovered, Garvid joins in. "Truth be told, Doc, I can't deny the fancy swordplay's effectiveness, I've seen some crazy s%&@. But nine times out of ten, trust me, it comes down to how much you want to see that particular f+@$ in front of you bite it and pure f@~*ing hatred. Still need to hold the blunt bit and stick 'em with the pointy end, though." He grins. "Beats sitting around. My feet can barely sense the cobblestones these days, it's insulting."
"The spirits are enough protection for me, but watching the rest of you will be enjoyable." The Shoanti woman flashes a crooked grin at Pietro, having sensed his discomfort.
Taking the note from Garvid, Mouse pores over it, thankful for the writer's neat handwriting that made following the words easier. But 'f 'e's jus' invitin' us over for some fencin'...why's 'e gotta send a note through th' Field Marshal? Could'a jus' posted a letter or got a message runner...gotta be more to this th'n jus' lessons. Otherways 'e wou'n't've gone t' so much trouble. Still, the young fighter was beginning to grow accustomed to intrigues and subterfuge - if Orisini wanted it quiet, she'd keep it that way.
So at Garvid's comments, she smiles. Way ahead of y', boss...turns out sword playin's a sight easier when y' leave the sword out've it. Taking a step back, she swivels on the ball of one foot and begins pantomiming a defensive stature, facing off against a bust of a Taldane prima donna on a pedestal. Launching a series of punches into the empty air, she gives a swift kick to a space six inches to the left of the pedestal's column - and falls to the ground, comically parodying a dramatic defeat with a breathy laugh. Though migh' be I c'd use a few pointers.
That afternoon, Pietro makes his rounds, visiting some of his most affluent clients and delivering his latest recipe of facial cream. This one is a pearlescent jelly whose fragrance suggests a paradoxical yet pleasing combination of carrots and formaldehyde.
While out, he can’t help but pick up some street chatter and gossip. A pair of bankers walk slowly in front of him, their success blatant in their dress. They talk loudly, almost hoping to be heard. ”The Queen blames the Sable Company and the Korvosan Guard for failing to keep us safe. These Gray Maidens are her response--a group of guards that can actually help protect us! Thank the gods!” Later on a pair of spinsters pass in the opposite direction, discussing happenings within the castle. ”The new seneschal of the castle, this Togomor, is apparently a bloatmage from Kaer Maga. Can’t say that’s the type of person I would have chosen to be the steward of my home, but hey, I’m not royalty, so what do I know?” Further down the street, a crazy-eyed acolyte stands upon a crate, proselytizing to a group of dock workers. ”All sorts of unsavory groups are capitalizing on this unrest! Thieves, anarchists like this Blackjack, wererats, and even cultists of the goddess of undeath are plotting against us from the shadows! Turn to the light, brothers and sisters!”
Pietro also can’t help but spot the tell-tale crimson plumes of the Gray Maidens. A small contingent of them scours the streets, even knocking on doors to question residents and business owners as they continue to search for Trinia Sabor. How long until they make it to House Fordyce?
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That evening, after Pietro returns to the manor, and as the sun begins to set. You head out in search of the Orisini Academy. As mentioned in the note, it’s located at 16 Hillcrest Street, all the way up near the center of Old Korvosa. The warmth and safety of the southron portion of the city gives way to hovels and decayed buildings as you enter this, one of the poorest sections of the city. Still, there is a sense of charm and home for those who live here.
Once at the listed address, it’s clear you’ve found your way. A sign hanging from the front door reads “Classes Cancelled Today.”
Only a few moments after you arrive, even before you knock, a serious looking Vencarlo Orisini appears and ushers you inside.
”My friends, it’s good to see you! Thank you for responding to my cryptic note. I apologize for the subterfuge…” He leads you down a hallway and into a study, the windows of which are tightly shuttered and curtained. In hushed tones, he continues. ”I’ve an important task for you...Vesper!”
This important task becomes obvious when Vesper enters the room: she is the would-be assassin, the girl who was rescued from execution only a few days ago. Wearing simple traveling clothes, the alleged assassin holds a wide-brimmed rider’s hat and a wig of long red curls. She bears only a passing resemblance to the real Trinia, or to Li, though her height and complexion are about right. Vesper smiles nervously.
“You were all at the queen’s debacle, so I don’t doubt you recognize this charming young woman. I had only just reached my home the night of Her Majesty’s morbid gala when that troublemaker Blackjack and this startled woman arrived at my doorstep. The so-called “people’s hero” and I have had some dealings in the past, but it’s been some years since I’ve seen the scoundrel. He was quick with his words and soon swooped off, doubtlessly to right some other festering wrong, but not before entrusting this young lady to my protection and care.”
”Although I don’t know Blackjack’s motives or politics, I trust his judgment and have seen much right done by his blade. He says Vesper here is innocent of the crime she’s been accused of, and I’m more disposed to trust a hero of the city than the tantrums of some bloody-minded child playing at queen.”
“The matter is simple: Korvosa is no longer safe for Vesper. Or for the real Trinia. I can't imagine what's become of her. But I’ve arranged for friends in Harse—a couple of well-respected ranchers—to take in our beautiful renegade until this whole ‘assassination’ foolishness blows over. It’s the first leg of the journey where we find our problem, though. Ever since the queen’s put a price on her head, mercenaries, soldiers, and the queen’s new Gray Maidens have been searching for the young lady tirelessly. They’ve stopped by here three times so far, and each time I’ve only just barely been able to turn them away without inviting a search. My most reliable contacts have gone to ground in light of the recent uprisings, and Her Highness’s bounty for the real Trinia’s capture makes the use of new agents inadvisable. Thus, after some time to let her trail cool, I turned to you resourceful lot. Care to escort a lady home?”
As Pietro shares the commends, Garvid frowns. "Sure. That'll work, right, people with no street experience patrolling the streets.", he squeezes through his teeth. "Obviously having a plume makes you a f%%$ing better guard.", he chuckles sarcastically. "Might go and pick up one of those fancy feather headdresses from a courtesan, myself. Think blue's more my colour, though." He raises an eyebrow. "And what the f%$~ is a bloatmage? Some sort of fat wizard?"
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Garvid furrows his brows as Vencarlo shares the story. I wonder how many sword and weapon masters there are in this town. And how many of them are unalleged with the queen. "Great shindig, true.", he grins. "Sounds to me that you two were pretty close, considering you're the one he thought of first.", he remarks, carefully watching Vencarlo. "Where were you standing? I don't think I saw you there, and I've got a pretty decent view."
When approached about the escort, Garvid nods. "Don't really sure how much safer she'd be outside the city, if I'm honest. But considering the queen doesn't care all that much about whether or not she's the one, having her outside of town would be safer. Not even our nobles are dumb enough to accept a third person as Trinia, having seen the second." He shrugs. "Harse... Guess if you're not in the town proper, there'd need to be a lot of land to cover to find someone. And from what I heard, the ranchers don't really trust strangers."
As Pietro relays the word on the street, Yaziyah snorts at the stupidity of the nobles thinking that the Grey Maidens are there for their protection. The news of a bloatmage are more worrisome, and Kaer Maga has a foul reputation among her people.
________________________________
At Orsini's place, she watches the swordmaster closely as he mentions Blackjack. Are they truly two different people? The way he speaks of the vigilante is a little odd, as if the admires the man but is afraid to show it.
She spends a long moment thinking about the request and watching "Vesper" measuringly. "And where is "home" for the young lady?" She turns to the others. "Perhaps we should all disguise ourselves. I think Garvid's earlier idea about posing as a courtesan was particularly fine." She grins shamelessly at the former guardsman and returns her attention to the girl and the swordmaster.
Pietro looked at the situation and offered an alternative solution, "How about you hide in plain sight?"
He quickly added, "Let me explain. I can provide you with hair dye to change the color of your hair and also a skin dye to change the tone and tint of your skin. That coupled with a radical change of clothes may be more than enough to hide from the Maidens."
He shrugged, "It's up to you. if you don't want to risk this then we'll get you out of the city."
tag?
Pietro did not want to pry any secrets from their host. he didn't think Vencarlo had the age and stamina to be Blackjack but he was one of the finest swordsmen in the city and he surely would know of Blackjack. And maybe even trained him.
He added an innocent question to those already posed, "How and where did you first meet Blackjack?"
tag?
Li senses that she is the only one actually disappointed about the real reason they had been invited to Vencarlo's. Instead of being able to hone skills she was good at, it was more talk with political implications. She stayed quiet, not really having anything to add. However she did become concerned about the zeal in which the Grey Maidens were searching Korvosa. It could potentially put Cal and his household in danger if the real Trinia was ever exposed by the hunt. Sure she looked different now but the money was awfully tempting. Mebbe we should be askin' Fran ag'in if'n she be willin' ta go ta Sandpoint, or mebbe Harse with Vesper? They could probably be passin' as sisters. They probably wouldn't be lookin' fer two of 'em.
When the doctor offers to alter Vesper's look, Li waits to see which direction things would go.
"Perhaps we should all disguise ourselves. I think Garvid's earlier idea about posing as a courtesan was particularly fine." She grins shamelessly at the former guardsman and returns her attention to the girl and the swordmaster.
Garvid grins back. "I think I can pull it off fairly convincingly. At least nearly everyone will be running in terror."
"Where were you standing? I don't think I saw you there, and I've got a pretty decent view."
Vencarlo frowns ever so slightly. ”No, I wasn’t in attendance. Call me disloyal, but public executions clash with my personal sensibilities. I couldn’t be a part of that charade. It was for the best, I suppose, for I was available to receive Blackjack and Vesper at a time when he perhaps had few options available to him. A suspicious coincidence, I’ll grant you, but in this instance one that happens to be quite genuine.”
”And you’re right about Harse. It’s a close-knit community. Fortunately my friends there are part of it, and can vouch for the girl. She’s a distant cousin from the city sent to find refuge during this time of unrest. My contact, Jasan Adriel, has proven loyal to me in the past, and I trust him completely. He would not betray us.”
”How and where did you first meet Blackjack?”
Vencarlo’s cheeks burn beet red. ”Goodness me, now we’re digging skeletons out of the pantry. Only figuratively, of course! In my younger, wilder days I was a brash man, and far more proactive in my, ah, anti-establishment sensibilities than I am now. We were picketing an increase in berthing fees in the city’s docks, a result we felt that was merely intended to line nobleman’s coffers rather than promote fair trading and support fishing families. A large group of us had rallied at the docks. We seized a ship owned by the Ornelos’s and were set to release its holdings into the Jeggare. The Guard showed up, ready to swoop in and knock us senseless. The Hellknights weren’t around at that time, thank Abadar. But Blackjack swooped in and released our mooring, allowing us to slip out to the river and cross to Thief Camp. By the time the Guard caught up to the ship, we had abandoned it and disappeared back into East Shore and North Bridge.” He smiles, remembering a lost time. ”That was a good day.”
”And where is "home" for the young lady?
Vesper blushes, clearly nervous and surprised to be addressed at all. ”Um, M-Midland, ma’am. The east side, near West Dock,” she answers timidly. ”Me mum passed a few year ago. Me paw’s around, but ain’t worth nothin’. Got a brother, too, but ain’t seen ‘im in months. Was walkin’ home from the docks one day when a couple ‘a men, dressed real nice like, asked me if I’d seen a missing girl. ‘Twas his daughter, he say, and she was last seen in the next street. Asked if I’d mind lookin’ at a few portraits of her. I looked a’ the picture, but got really sleepy like. Then it’s all sort of a blur, though I know’d time had passed. Next I knew, I was here with Mr. Orisini. He and that Blackjack, they saved me.” She reaches out and squeezes Vencarlo’s hand. The older man blushes, but smiles in acknowledgment. ”If Mr. Orisini say I should go, I trust him.” She nods determinedly, seemingly convinced it’s the best course of action.
”Yes,” Vencarlo agrees, ”I do say. There’s much more afoot here than is currently clear, I fear. And this is why I won’t agree to Pietro’s plan of keeping her in the city. Pietro, your plotting is like your swordplay, reactive and too defensive. You must think a step ahead. You and your friends here,” he points to you with the tip of a writing quill, ”are the best chance we’ve got. You’re good people, I can tell. I have a gift for that. I have a gift for you, too. I wouldn’t dream of sending you on some sort of mission without compensation. Blackjack would agree, since he left me with a bit of coin to see to Vesper’s safety. I will offer you 600gp, if you’ll take on this job.”
Pietro refused the money and the criticism, "I am not the insecure youth you tried to teach many years agos. My plotting has worked fine so far. We also don't need money to do what is right."
He calmed down, "However, I'll take your advice on this and will get this girl to your contacts."
He asked the others, "I think we need to get back to Cal's house and gather our... things. Other than that, I think we're ready to go."
Li began thinking that Vencarlo's insistence that Vesper leave may also be the best course for Fran but she still didn't know if others could be trusted with knowledge of her. "It is bein' a shame ya don't have a sister that could be makin' tha journey with ya. They wouldn't be lookin' fer two of ya."
Garvid chuckles at Vencarlo's story. "Ah, my old man told me about this one. The Gentlemen Pirates, I remember that.", he grins. "So, you're the loyal opposition now? Not so sure how much the Queen has respect for any opposition, though."
He shrugs. "Not saying no to the money, though. Being out on your own changes your outlook to that, it seems, though it still feels like a bribe.", he frowns.
"Hey, about the two men... we've probably got a decent painter or two at the manor... Thinking you could describe them to one of them, and give us an idea of what they looked like? Sound like some sort of magickers to me, and there's not going to be too many of those around, is there?" He shakes his head. "Don't know if we'd have time, though. Might be an idea for a different time. Might suggest it to the Field Marshal."
He nods at Pietro. "Yeah, I'd say we get going too. Good idea on that sister, too, Li. Interested in going countryside, are you?", he mentions with a wink, suggesting he understood what she was talking about.