As the group goes in search of their well-deserved beds, the rest of the city stirs to life. That very day, the Korvosa Herald, the city’s premier newsletter, features several notable stories.
Blood Veil remains the top story, as reports of its devastating spread only become more dire. The death rate continues to rise, and the presence of bodies found in Racker’s Alley are only one of several such “open gravesites” described in the paper.
The Queen's Physicians, guided by the expertise of Dr. Davaulus, continue to combat the sickness. Construction is complete on their base of operations, a former Arkona import warehouse on West Dock, now The Hospice of the Blessed Maiden. A spokesman from the Physicans states that the group remains optimistic that the plague will soon be reigned in.
Riots have again appeared, this time in Old Korvosa, requiring an increased military presence in that district. There’s even an op-ed piece by a concerned (but anonymous) Arbiter that the entire ward should simply be shut off to prevent the violence from spreading south.
In addition, Zenobia Zenderholm, the city’s Senior Arbiter, has returned to her post in the Longacre Building, proclaiming her allegience to Queen Ileosa and vowing to aid the Gray Maidens in their pursuit of Justice. She has not commented on her unexplained absence from her post but, in a surprise move, announces that her department will no longer accept funding from the Church of Abadar. A representative from the Grand Vault has issued a statement that its attempts to openly communicate with Zenderholm have been rebuffed and, for now, the church regretfully considers her to be a “doubting soul lost to her fears in the midst of tragedy.”
The Gray Maidens, meanwhile, are putting their new headquarters to maximum use. Their numbers continue to expand, and all women aged 16 - 24 are encouraged to apply in person at the Longacre Building. Small mention is made of an altercation early this very morning between members of the Gray Maidens and the Korvosan Guard in The Heights.
Neolandus Kalepopolis, the former seneschal of Castle Korvosa, remains missing.
Wheezing coughs and rattling breaths fill the halls of House Fordyce, this time from Yazi’s bed. The woman finds herself weak with fever, her face covered in an angry red rash, the tiniest blisters beginning to form on her skin.
There is soon a knock on the front door. Blister and Aunti race each other to answer it, convinced that the loser will contract blood veil. With a confused expression and a helpless shrug, Auntie seeks Garvid out. ”There’s some old flower lady here, says she got a message from a field marshal?”
In the entry hall, you find the woman. Old and gnarled, she wears pauper's clothes and leans heavily on a broken broom handle that she uses as a walking stick. With a grave nod she gestures toward the drawing room, taking Cressida’s usual seat on the couch. ”It’s me, Cressida.” Cressida’s familiar and younger voice are jarring, sourced from the old woman in rags. ”I have taken the precaution of acquiring a disguise spell. I can’t so much as step outside of the Citadel without being hounded by reporters and, I fear, agents of a more sinister nature. The spell shan’t won’t last much longer, and so I must be brief.”
”I’m sure you saw the newspaper reports. As we approached the address of Lavender, we found a group of Gray Maidens already there. They had taken several employees of the shop, all men, into custody. They denied us our questions and refused to recognize our jurisdiction, instead hauling their captives off. I assume they were taken to the Longacre Building. It is as I feared. The status and future of the Guard remains in jeopardy, and the Gray Maidens bolster their numbers. For what purpose? I cannot say.” She sighs heavily, scratching her warted brow, then smiles hopefully. ”But, I was very pleased to find Vendra Loaggri waiting for us at the Citadel. They told me you brought her in. Excellent work, that, giving us an opportunity to investigate the matter on our own. As best I can tell, she’s a common criminal and, despite her polished veneer, quite a mediocre one at that. She was quite afraid, especially after we described the acquisition of her men by the Maidens. She caved almost immediately, confessing that river water is the main ingredient of her concoction. A complete sham.”
The old woman then waves her winkled fingers in an off-handed sort of way. ”I have yet another mission for you. I fear, despite my best efforts, I am in need of you now more than ever."
"The Citadel has been approached by one Deyanira Mirukova. She has begged for help in finding her brother, Ruan Mirukova. They live together in a modest apartment off Overton Way, not far from the Marbledome where she works as a chorus girl and he plays ocarina in the orchestra. Several days ago, Ruan came home in a state of excitement, delighted he had been personally requested to perform at a private masquerade at Carowyn Manor, home of well-known patrons of the arts. When he didn't return the next day, she went to the estate, only to find it seemingly abandoned--its entrance locked, its windows tightly curtained, and a...sickly smell issuing from behind the heavy door. Needless to say, she has become desparate, and even offered me, personally, nearly all her possessions: common goods and family heirlooms and season passes to the Marbledome."
"But, with so many of my men out dealing with riots, body counts, sick themselves, and with the Gray Maidens expanded recruiting efforts, I have...no one left to send to help her. How does a stroll to South Shore sound?" She offers a grim smile. "Season passes to the Marbledome would be a welcome break from reality."
yes
yes
no
yes
no
yes
yes
no
success
success
success
fail
success
The previous day she had gone to visit her extended family and check on her Shoanti community in Old Korvosa. She had gathered the other shamans and herbswomen, sharing her experiences in treating the blood veil and also warning them off from buying any of that liniment that Vendra had been selling. The news from her community had been... not good. The plague was bad enough, but now there were serious stirrings afoot as well, riots and unrest. She cautioned her people against participating or even being seen near such things, but she left feeling drained and overwhelmed. She thought of seeking out Thousand Bones, but the man had his own myriad problems to deal with. With a pang of shame and remorse, she realized that she had not paid her respects to his family since Gaekhen's death and their subsequent recovery of his body. How long ago had it been? The last few days had been a blur. She had fashioned a small charm, as offering for the dead, and went to see the boy's family. Thousand Bones himself was not there, which was regrettable, as she would have welcomed his advice. His elderly mother was a more than passable substitute, however, and the two women spent long hours talking and braiding each other's hair. As they parted, the old woman pulled a simple leather cord from around her neck and tied Speaks For The Dead's hair back, a sad smile crinkling her lined features. It was such a small, simple thing, but Speaks For The Dead felt at that moment that it was a precious and rare gift.
She had passed by Stone Marrow as well, as the craftsman had left word for her to visit him. The old man had grinned a wicked grin as he flourished an unusually shaped bone. "You know what this is, girl?" At Speaks For The Dead's mute head-shake, he continued with obvious smugness. "This be a linorm bone, that's what this is! Traded with an Ulfen sailor for it. Finger bone." Stone Marrow winks and gestures at Speaks For The Dead's breastplate. "Gave me an idea, it did. I made that for you so's you don't get hurt too bad when... well, when you do whatever it is you're up to these days." A wry head-shake succinctly editorialized his opinion on the matter. "But what if... we made the fellow what hit you be sorry for it, eh? I just have to stick it... here. Just so. Already had my wife enchant it and whatnot, but once it gets discharged you can enchant it again yourself. Clever, eh? And what it does is... what it does, when a fellow gets a blow in, he gets cursed! Forever!" Stone Marrow fairly cackles with whatever mental image that evokes. But Speaks For The Dead had to admit that it was a very handy thing to have, indeed.
------------------------
As she sits up coughing, she mentally reviews the previous day, trying to figure out where she had picked up the cursed blood veil. Again. She prays to the spirits for aid and burns the bark and herbs for the ritual that is almost routine by now. She hopes it will be enough.
That done, she joins the others, just in time to witness Cressida's peculiar arrival. She listens to the marshal with interest, interjecting when she mentions Vendra: "And was she working alone? I had a thought when we were investigating her... employees. Whatever became of that plague ship? And what do you make of Zenobia Zenderholm's return? As I recall, she was on our to-do list, but we never got around to it. I have to say, this whole situation... stinks. If only I can figure out why."
Carowyn didn't ring a bell, but she turns a hopeful gaze to Calcedon. Surely the young noble would have an idea about who these people were.
Excusing himself after breakfast, Garvid makes his way towards the church of Abadar. A tired and grumpy looking man in field plate, a satisfied smirk on his face and a grievous looking halberd on his shoulder, he passes through the slums unconcerned about any industrious onlookers. A group of hoodlums appear from behind a corner, engaged in a loud conversation, only to stop and quiet down, as he walks past them. "Gents.", he regards the frightened bunch, continuing on his way.
Stepping onto the crowded streets in front of the church, he frowns. I understand helping for a price, and the price is lower these days... Though I still bet there's some people in there, sitting on their hands and counting pots of gold., he thinks, making his way into the main lobby, almost transcedental with the amount of wealth displayed. A guard approaches him to stop him, stopping as Garvid shakes a hefty pouch in his direction. "Can you call a craftsman?", he asks, smiling, uttering the Abadarian blessing, "I bring you business."
-----------------------------------------------
Nodding at the woman, Garvid nods at the children. "Auntie! Go grab a pot of tea and a glass of something stronger. Blister, go and see what's left in the kitchen.", he orders the two in a commanding voice, before ushering the woman in.
-----------------------------------------------
As Cressida reveals herself, Garvid lets out a chuckle. "S%#@, boss, I told you to get some sleep. You look almost as old as I feel. And good that you managed to squeeze that out of Vendra. She could've told me the sky was green and I'd have double checked it...", he remarks, crossing two aching arms over a belt seemingly made out of pouches, covered in light silver and gold filigree. Pouring himself a cup of tea, he cracks his knuckles. As the mention of the Gray Maidens moving onto the Guard's jurysdiction, his fist slams the table. "Can't expect much from a turncoat-led organisation.", he growls at the thought of Merrin, less polite words dancing on his lips. "And that thing about Zenderholm. What I know of her, can't imagine her ditching Abadar and the Guard in a day. After a mysterious disappearance and re-appearance, too. Something smells here, and I took a shower.", he grumbles, pouring 'something stronger' in his tea.
He puts his hands on his chin, staring at the wall. That's partly our fault, isn't it..., he thinks, before slamming the innocent table once more. "Sure. We'll take a look at the house as well. I speak for myself here, but I'd be happy to have the girl keep her possessions, too.", he shares with the others. "I can be ready within the hour."
Got to love the nobles. Always time for a party, even in a plague., he harrumphs, standing up. "You treating the sickness, boss? Not much use to Korvosa if you die, you know."
-----------------------------------------------
Following Yaziyah's ritual, her complexion exhibits marked improvement and her cough fades.
"And was she working alone? I had a thought when we were investigating her... employees. Whatever became of that plague ship? And what do you make of Zenobia Zenderholm's return? As I recall, she was on our to-do list, but we never got around to it. I have to say, this whole situation... stinks. If only I can figure out why."
"From what we've gathered, Vendra was the ringleader of her little operation, with a few rough thugs and a couple of pretty shopgirls at her disposal. There isn't evidence of anything more sinister. Yet..."
"The plague ship. Yes, I remember the rumors. I had hoped they were only rumors, anyway. But if indeed the ship has something to do with Lavender, or the plague itself, perhaps there are clues that could be found within its wreckage. The problem, of course, is that the ship now lies in the deep waters of the Jeggare. I would personally love to learn more from the wreckage, but my soldiers aren't the best choice for the task. Why, do you have something in mind?"
"As to Arbiter Zenderholm, well, I just don't know. It was a great relief to see her return to the public eye, though her behavior since then is definitely, well, inexplicable. I certainly have no love for these Gray Maidens, and I am loathe to see Longacre under their control, but I just can't fathom what Zenobia is up to. I'll send a missive requesting a meeting."
"You treating the sickness, boss? Not much use to Korvosa if you die, you know."
The old woman looks embarrassed. "Er, yes, not getting enough sleep, I suppose. Ishani Dhatri, your friend, paid me a visit and administered some prayers or some such. I'm not one for superstition, but I must say I'm feeling much better."
Carowyn didn't ring a bell, but she turns a hopeful gaze to Calcedon. Surely the young noble would have an idea about who these people were.
"Yes, of course," Cal offers cheerily from the parlor's doorway, brandishing a teacup. "I actually received an invitation from Ausio and Olauren Carowyn the other day, asking me to perform at their party. Completely distasteful, I couldn't possibly approve of such a thing at a time like this. I had Feilaken burn it and forgot all about it. Now it seems I made the correct choice. Assuming the girl's being truthful, at any rate." He takes a sip.
Day 6
Feeling refreshed after getting some sleep, Pietro bathed and dressed like a doctor and visited those in need. He didn't have to go very far.
He spent his day administering his extracts which now also helped with the disease.
He meandered some on his way back and visited a friend of his, an enchanter of magical armor. There he paid for a beautiful chain shirt and had it wrapped up in oiled paper, ready to be used.
Once back at the manor, he presented it to Li, "I heard you wanted one of these and I had some extra cash, no doubt because of you exposing your skin for all of us."
He joked, "Try it on. I think it will go well with your purple hair."
--------
Day 7
Pietro sighed, "The Carowyn Family. I know them or know of them. All my clients talk about them and their parties. In fact, I do quite a bit of business because of people wanting to look their best for them."
He nodded to Garvid, "Agreed, we should pay them a visit. The sooner the better."
--------
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Having taken her rest in the Citadel, Mouse takes a fairly rambling return route to Fordyce Manor, her recent earnings bouncing heavily in a cheap backpack on her shoulder. Fortunately, it wasn't as heavy as it could have been - she'd spent nearly half of what she'd earned at the Citadel, making a deal with the quartermaster there. One of the Guard's recent raids had turned up a stunning set of chain mail, each link treated with heat to turn a deep violet; it had been of little use to them, being out of uniform regulation. To Mouse, though, it was ideal, especially once she heard it was protected by spells, and so she'd handed over her old leather armor and a heap of coin to wear it away.
Now, she wanders through the nearly-abandoned streets, taking in the strangely contemplative sight. Being able to stroll through the streets without earning a multitude of sidelong glances is new to her; being greeted and even accosted by what few shopkeepers remain is stranger still, as she's far more used to being glared down or chased away. One demonstration in particular catches her eye as she stops at a different stall to buy a handful of sweets for the Lambs. The crier's litany of strange news continues in the background, but he's far enough away that his words simply blend together into a soft background current, mixing with the ever-present rustle of the bay's waves.
A Varisian man showcases a shimmering indigo scarf, so gossamer-thin she can see his hand through it; deliberately, he winds it over his head and shoulders, winking at Mouse through the see-through cover. Then he steps into the shadow of his wagon - and suddenly, his features are gone, obscured by an undulating shadow that seems to encompass his entire body. Strangely, she finds all memory of the man beginning to slip away...until he steps out again, removing the scarf with a flourish. A wonder of the Impossible Kingdoms, making a journey that staggers belief, all the way to our grand city - and could that journey end with you, young madam? Mouse takes the story of the scarf's provenance with a grain of salt...but she also takes the scarf, handing over the backpack with a nod and draping the cover over her shoulders.
Mouse nods approvingly at Cressida's disguise, once she finally knows what it is; if I was so beset 'pon as she is righ' now, I'd probably do as much, too. Quietly she lets the Field Marshal tell the story of Lavender's fate, though she scowls deeply at the Maidens' overbearing refusals to cooperate and the strange turn in Zenobia Zenderholm's behavior. Still, those were mostly political affairs now, matters a bit above Mouse's pay grade or aptitude. Carowyn Manor, however, seemed more up her alley.
I don' min' goin' an' pokin' 'round this manor place, she chimes in once Cressida draws to a close. Mister Pietro's righ' - sooner th' better soun's 'bout righ' t' me. An'... At this, she swallows hard, seemingly reticent to let the words escape. I ain't mindin' goin' an' takin' a look at tha' plague ship either, 'f y' think it'd be 'elpful. The twist in her lips, as if she's about ready to be sick, belies her supposed readiness for the task, but she resolutely sticks to the statement, though she turns to Yazi discreetly. There's...there's magics what c'n 'elp wit' breathin' underwater, righ'?
At Mouse's question, Yaziyah nods. "Indeed there are. I know a ritual that can help." Turning to the marshal, she asks: "Just how deep does the plague ship lie?" She starts pacing, her long legs easily eating up the distance between the walls of the drawing room. "The way I see it, we have two paths to track on how the plague started in the city. We have the ship. And we have the coins." She whirls, looking at the others. "Speaking of, who has the key that we found in the vampires' lair? It had the symbol of Abadar on it, no? We should check their vaults."
The elderly flower woman gets to her feet, tapping her broom handle thoughtfully on the floor. "Well, the Jeggare must be nearly eighty feet deep. You'd need to overcome the swim itself, a method of surviving underwater, and of course some light sources. Hmmm..." She crinkles her brow, her wrinkles deepening even more severely. "I could also pull some strings to procure potions of water breathing. We could also ask our friend Ishani..."
"And then there's the matter of light. I imagine you've got some magical tricks up your sleeves, but you could also use everburning torches, or sunrods."
Cressida salutes and leaves through the mud room, wandering out through the garden. A light rainfall covers her escape, and the large, wide-brimmed hat she wears conceals the familiar features that begin to emerge as her disguise spell fades.
It is onto the same rainy street that our heroes soon set out themselves. Their destination: Carowyn Manor in South Shore.
The newest district officially added to the city, South Shore became a part of Korvosa in 4684, when Queen Domina set the first foundation stone for the Pantheon of Many. South Shore’s population consists mainly of the city’s nouveau riche hoping to escape the cramped conditions elsewhere in the city. No wards divide South Shore, though a small enclave built specifically as an embassy for Mierani elves stands in the ward.
A stately, fabled estate along Shoreline Way, Carowyn Manor serves as the in-town home of Olauren and Ausio Carowyn. Festooned with cinderberry garlands and bright-red drapery, the limestone facade of the manor faces out toward the street. Sturdy front doors of Bloodsworn mahogany provide the most obvious entrance, though the brass banisters of a balcony rise fifteen feet above the front door. Surrounding the grounds, a high hedge encloses what must be a large garden estate. To the south, a smaller servant's residence hems in the property boundary.
Garvid stops by the manor's walls, frowning at the place. "Got to love South Shore. All the arrogance of the old families, with none of the care for reputation." One could assume by his statement he'd be able to find something to grumble about in every district in Korvosa.
He stares at the door. What an eyesore... "We could either knock, and potentially warn someone inside, or skulk around and risk one of the neighbours starting rumours." He rolls his eyes. "The horror.", he grits through his teeth sarcastically. Raising a fist at the mahogany door, he looks around at the group. "Any objections?"
Li is almost afraid to go back to sleep but in the end, exhaustion wins over the potential for more nightmares and she falls into bed along with everyone else.
When she wakes, she finds that most everyone has scattered to do their own thing. She takes a quick look around for Grau but unsurprisingly, he's busy. So she makes her way back towards Fordyce Manor but she takes a circuitous route to try and hear any possible rumors that people love to gossip about when they thing no one is around to hear.
-------
When she returns to the manor, she is completely surprised when Pietro hands her a parcel. She realizes that she had been avoiding him a bit since his attack on her while they were fighting the vampires. The package was somewhat confusing because her past experience with Lamm was that no one gave you something for nothing. A gift meant you would owe someone a favor. Unable to keep the suspicion out of her voice she asks uncertainly, "Thank ya? What be this fer? Do ya be needin' somethin' from me?"
Once Pietro convinces her that there are no ulterior motives, a smile breaks out on Li's face. "It be beautiful." Then she gives the doctor a surprise hug where she lifts his dagger again. "I be tryin' it on. But c'n ya be holdin' this fer me?" She hands him back his dagger with an impish grin. "Ya really should be keepin' better track of yer stuff, doc. No hard feelin's."
When Cressida tells them about what happened at Lavender, Li has to ask, "Were Vendra's men able ta be describin' us ta tha Maidens? Do we be needin' ta be lookin' over our shoulders? I be guessin' that Dr.Pietro c'n be changin' me hair ag'in but soon I be forgettin' what I be lookin' like."
Yazi's inquiry about the key brings Li back to the conversation as she was still thinking about all the many issues plaguing Korvosa at the moment. "I be havin' tha key that we be findin'. That also be somethin' we need ta be lookin' inta in addition ta everythin' already mention'd."
He stares at the door. What an eyesore... "We could either knock, and potentially warn someone inside, or skulk around and risk one of the neighbours starting rumours." He rolls his eyes. "The horror.", he grits through his teeth sarcastically. Raising a fist at the mahogany door, he looks around at the group. "Any objections?"
Li shrugs, "Mebbe both? Ya be knockin' an' I c'n be skulkin'. I c'n be hollarin' if'n I be gettin' inta trouble."
Once Pietro convinces her that there are no ulterior motives, a smile breaks out on Li's face. "It be beautiful." Then she gives the doctor a surprise hug where she lifts his dagger again. "I be tryin' it on. But c'n ya be holdin' this fer me?" She hands him back his dagger with an impish grin. "Ya really should be keepin' better track of yer stuff, doc. No hard feelin's."
"No, you don't owe me anything. Just pay this forward; there are plenty people needing help these days."
The doctor then pats himself, making sure that none of his vials or flasks were taken by the quick-fingered rogue.
He then nods and smiles, "I think it looks good on you but we can always change the color to match your hair."
Li shrugs, "Mebbe both? Ya be knockin' an' I c'n be skulkin'. I c'n be hollarin' if'n I be gettin' inta trouble."
"I'm not much for skulking around so I'll stay here and see if anyone answers the door."
He looks over the place, "Anyone know what's up with the red motif? It's kind of... tacky."
The elderly flower woman gets to her feet, tapping her broom handle thoughtfully on the floor. "Well, the Jeggare must be nearly eighty feet deep. You'd need to overcome the swim itself, a method of surviving underwater, and of course some light sources. Hmmm..." She crinkles her brow, her wrinkles deepening even more severely. "I could also pull some strings to procure potions of water breathing. We could also ask our friend Ishani..."
"And then there's the matter of light. I imagine you've got some magical tricks up your sleeves, but you could also use everburning torches, or sunrods."
Pietro pulls out a bottle, which does not look like much. "I have this as well. It retains fresh air anywhere, even underwater. So even if it won't allow us to breathe water it is a never ending supply of air and it can be shared."
He took a breath and passed around, "Anyone want to try?"
----------
Cressida had been unable to ascertain what, if anything, the Gray Maidens learned from their captives. The impression she gives is that the entire confrontation was tainted by hostility between the Maidens and the Guard, with one trying to assert dominance over the other.
------------------------
Garvid firmly grasps the immense door knocker, a guady affair in the semblance of a curled pseudodragon, and *bang bang bangs*.
There is no response.
Li, meanwhile, searches for another entrance. There is the balcony above, of course. The entire yard is hedged in by a, well, a giant hedge. Any attempt to approach by a back entrance would require someone to climb over it...
At Pietro's question about the decorations, she shrugs. "Cal would probably know, but as he's not here..." Losing patience with the front door approach, she strides around the nearest corner looking for windows or side entrances. She doesn't have high hopes of gaining a glimpse into the manor, nobles were notorious for prizing their privacy. In which case, well, a place like this had to have servants. And servants, they are people you can talk to.
But first...
"If we're heading into something dangerous, I have something to bolster your natural resistance. All of you, please hold still for just a moment."
Li shrugs, "Mebbe both? Ya be knockin' an' I c'n be skulkin'. I c'n be hollarin' if'n I be gettin' inta trouble."
Y' mean, we c'n be skulkin', Mouse adds with a wink. Y' think I'm gon' let you 'ave all th' fun? I'm f'r tryin' goin' over th' 'edge, if no one else don' min', she adds, glancing around the building's corner. Easier t' climb than th' front o' th' 'ouse's like t' be, an' folks don' usually lock doors what they think's blocked off by somethin' else. I'll pop over in back - less like t' git spotted by folk on th' street.
Following Yazi past the side windows, she continues on to the east hedge and starts digging in, tucking her scarf around her face and looking for handholds and footholds in the thick shrubbery.
Yazi attempts to peer into the northern windows, but finds that the shutters are jammed shut. Circling around south to investigate the servant's quarters, you find that there are no visible windows on this side, nor signs of life.
Meanwhile, Mouse and Li take their time and clamber over the overgrown hedge. Their task is aided by the fact that the hedge overgrows a wrought iron fence. Inside the grounds they find a meticulously manicured garden, complete with a gazebo and a pond. The gazebo is festooned with the same garish red banners adorning the house, but is otherwise empty. A fine mist of rain sprinkles over the pond, within which hundreds of tiny salamanders swim. To the southwest there looks to be servants quarters. The door is unlocked. There is no activity, either from these quarters or the manor, only the gentle pitter-patter of rain.
"Let's not go around destroying property until we have a better idea of what is going on" mutters Yaziyah as her attempts to gain insight into the manor is thwarted by the closed shutters. With a deep and weary sigh she trundles around the manor to where Li and Mouse have gone skulking. Another sigh as she contemplates the hedge and prepares to climb over it with the maximum of dignity that she can muster.
Her first attempt ends in an undignified heap on the ground that she hopes that the building's architecture has concealed from the others. Grumbling, she hisses towards the group still pottering around the front door. "Gentlemen. A hand here, if you please."
Lord Talfyrn excuses himself early on the sixth day, and spends it hidden in his study. Their encounter with the vampires triggered an idea, allowing several disparate elements to concatenate in such a manner that he is filled with a fiery, intellectual drive to get his thoughts down on paper, and the world be hanged. He barely touches his meals, doesn't eat nor drink, and when finally he pushes back from his desk and gazes at the myriad scrolls covered in his cramped script, he feels an immense sense of satisfaction.
[ooc]Learned Gaseous Form and Pugwampi's Grace from leveling, and created a scroll of Pugwampis' Grace.
------------
Outside the manor, he watches as the two rogues scale the hedge wall, and then waits as Garvid pounds on the door. When no answer is forthcoming, he looks to the group.
"I could cast a spell that would allow me to assume a form made of little more than gas. In this shape, I could explore the grounds and penetrate the home itself without any danger; indeed, it is quite possible that I would go completely unnoticed. Thoughts?"
The possibility aired, and unless any are strongly against it, Talfryn casts the spell and inserts himself through a crack in the door before them.
Garvid sends Li a smile. "Can't say I'm surprised. Not planning on busting a front door at South Shore.", he shares, stepping away from the door, and giving a look at Pietro and Talfryn. "I don't think we're very suited for climbing, gentlemen.", he says with a grin, before Talfryn shares his newest discoveries. "That's... weird... Would you be able to open the door, Lordship?", Garvid asks, before Yazi hisses them over. Why didn't I go with the girls... stuff's about to go downright weird here...
He looks at Yazi staring at the hedge wall, scratching his head. "I'm not made for climbing walls, Yazi. That's birdbrain territory. I could probably give you a hand if you want to get on the other side." He grumbles. "I say we go to the door, and let Talfryn sneak in. If he can't open the gate, I can probably pull the shutters open, and we can get through there."
Yazi pulls herself up over the hedge, but her hand catches on the sharp tip of the iron fence beneath, giving her a nasty scratch. . She lands, otherwise safe, in the gardens.
"Yes, yes, yes, but I don't want to leave the girls alone again. A responsible adult should be with them." A sardonic smile twists her features as she gestures Garvid closer. "Just give me a boost here, and then you can go back to smashing things."
After a minute of grunts, oofs and awkward scrambling, she manages to scale the blasted thing, although she scratches her hand on a hidden iron spike in the process. Pausing to wrap the shallow wound in a scrap of cloth, she starts tracking down Mouse and Li, looking around the garden with interest. She makes a detour to investigate the servants' building, knocking softly on the door. After some resounding silence from inside, she gingerly tries the door with her uninjured hand, finding it unlocked. The interior holds no unexpected horrors, a rather tasteless couch upholstery notwithstanding. She does notice some stairs leading down, so she calls the girls over for some safety in numbers. In case the upholstery turns hostile.
She pokes around the cupboards in the small building, revealing food that had been fresh a week ago. "Hm. Either these Carowyns have exceptionally incompetent servants, or... Or they no longer have servants. I wonder what happened to the poor people."
Inside the servant's quarters, Yazi, Li, and Mouse find what looks to be an abandoned home. Small sleeping quarters are clean but empty, and a food pantry contains dried meats and grains, as well as some fresh produce that has now gone too ripe and is nearly spoiled.
A small staircase leads down to a quarter-basement used for storage of household sundries like linens.
Otherwise, the quarters seem completely abandoned...
"I could cast a spell that would allow me to assume a form made of little more than gas. In this shape, I could explore the grounds and penetrate the home itself without any danger; indeed, it is quite possible that I would go completely unnoticed. Thoughts?"
Pietro nods, "Well since no one is answering our call here, we are just going to have to get in some other way. I hear Carowyn's parties are to die for."
He looked at the wizard, "Go ahead and do your thing here, Lord but do not wander too far. Just make sure there's no one on the other side and open the door for us if possible."
As you linger near the front door, a strong and noxious odor begins to creep its way up your nostrils. It smells like rotten meat.
Talfryn takes a deep breath, his shoulders heaving, then exhales slowly, and as he does, his very form seems to pass out through the breath, until is he now a cloud-shape of his former self. With a harumph he sinks toward the ground and passes easily under the grand doors.
Inside, he is greeted to a horrific scene.
A massacre took place here. Upon the marble floor and heaped in the corners lie more than a dozen corpses, each clad in garish outfits of sequined velvet, revealing silk, and colorful feathers. Masks of all shapes and sizes—each competing with the last in terms of elaborateness—adorn the dead. In several cases, though, these fanciful adornments have fallen away, revealing withered flesh covered in the telltale blisters of blood veil. Most horrifyingly, upon a bloodslick space cleared at the room’s center sway three couples, jerking like hellish dancers to a silent symphony unheard by mortal ears, all obviously dead.
"No bother at all. And a commoner's promise not to peek.", Garvid grins as he boosts Yazi. "We might need a responsible adult as well, just saying. Still haven't told me when your birthday is, we need to clarify who's older.", he says with a grin as he boosts the Shoanti woman up the wall, before hearing her gasp on the other side. "You alright?", he hisses, worried tone in his voice. "I'll go and smash some things as you asked now, young lady."
----------------------------------------------
In front of the door, Garvid scowls at the smell. "I've got a bad feeling about this...", he shares, grabbing the haft of his halberd hard, as Talfryn shares his observations, Garvid's face passes through disgust, horror, hatred, and then anger, as he leans forward to try and open the door.
Li is distracted by the pond. She watches the tiny salamanders swim and they're almost mesmerizing as they flit about in figure eights. "Tha thin's that tha rich be spendin' their money on be puzzlin'," she murmurs. Then she hears Yazi make her way over the hedge and she turns back momentarily. "Ya be ok?" she asks quietly.
Upon searching the servant's quarters, Li states the obvious, "Well this be mighty disappointin'. Where be everyone? Servants don't be just disappearin' or abadonin' their places o' work. I don't be likin' this place. It be too quiet in a creepy sort o' way."
Li exits the servant's quarters and looks for a way into the main house. "There gots ta be a quick way fer tha servants ta be gettin' from their quarters ta tha manor. Mebbe we be havin' better luck in tha main house."
Garvid finds the heavy front doors locked.
Li notices a servant's entrance just near the gate, also locked.
Li moves towards the servant's entrance and gets out her tools when she discovers that it's locked. Even though she doubts that there are traps present, she checks anyways out of habit. Then she gets to work with opening the lock.
In front of the door, Garvid scowls at the smell. "I've got a bad feeling about this...", he shares, grabbing the haft of his halberd hard, as Talfryn shares his observations, Garvid's face passes through disgust, horror, hatred, and then anger, as he leans forward to try and open the door.
Pietro was used to some pretty funky smell as part of his medical profession but he nonetheless used a scented handkerchief next to his nose, "Death, it smells like death. We should be wary."
--------
In the garden, Li easily manages to disable the lock securing the back door closed, and opens it to find herself facing two possible doorways.
Talfryn, eyeing the large deadbolt securing the door closed, assumes his solid form and reaches to open it for the benefit of his friends. As the heavy mahogany glides open, the gray light pours in and the entirety of the scene reveals itself like some monstrous operatic stage. Its players, the wretched remains of what were only a few days ago living, breathing citizens, lurch forward to taste of your warm, pink flesh.
___________________________
Red: excellent health
Blue: excellent health
Green: excellent health
Orange: excellent health
Purple: excellent health
Pink: excellent health
The door flies open as Garvid moves back towards Pietro. "Nice going, Lordsh...", he starts saying with a smirk, before he sees the unnatural monstrosities in there. F%~&ing South Shore..., he grumbles, breaking into a run. Moving as fast as he can past the door, he frowns at the appaling state of the room.
Shaking his head to remove the mental picture of what occured in the room, he points down his halberd towards the undead masses. The vicious spike gleaming in the dusky darkness. "Doctor! Think you need to re-decorate here!", he grins, as he readies himself, expecting the firebomb to hit any second.
Li listens briefly at each door to see if she can hear anything of note to direct her choice.
"What is that?
The doctor palmed a flask and threw it at the middle of the undead creatures.
"You're right, just keep them away and I'll burn them."
------------
HP 52/52
AC 17, touch 12, flat-footed 15
10 +2(DEX) +3(studded leather)
Conditions:n/a
Melee (MW dagger): +5 = +4(base) +1(MW)
Melee Damage (MW dagger): 1d4, 19-20, x2
Ranged (bomb): +6 = +4(base) +2(dex)
Ranged Damage (bomb): 3d6+4 x2, 20'
alchemist fire or acid flask 1d6+4
11/12 bombs, 1/1 mutagen
Extracts used: n/a
We oughta fin' our way t' th' fron', let th' others in 'f th' door ain't opened for 'em yet...wait, wha's tha'? Mouse cocks an ear, unsure if the sound she hears is merely a settling house, a cat prowling outside, or something more threatening...
Yaziyah hears it as well and feels the hairs on the back of her neck rise. With a look and a nod at Mouse and Li, she pulls out the blessing stick and gives it a light tap.
"Doctor! Think you need to re-decorate here!"
Mouse and Yazi hear Garvid's shouts to the north. Li pushes through the northern doorway , finding a drawing room empty of anything but blood-smeared furniture.
Now that Li is aware of possible trouble with the guys, she loads her crossbow as she moves. She has no idea what to expect but all the furniture gruesomely painted with blood tells her that it probably won't be good.
Talfryn wastes not even a breath, and the moment the corpses lunge forward, summons forth a cadre of shimmering clones that surround him and mimic his every move. Yazi calls on the spirits, perhaps even those of the unfortunate party guests, for aid as she, Li, and Mouse blindly charge through doorways in an effort to reach their friends. Mouse races ahead of the others, through the bloodied parlor, and flings open the door leading into the entryway. As she does, Pietro’s flask is already tumbling through the air and lands with a crackle of broken glass. A whoosh is followed by an inferno that explodes within the midst of the jittering corpses, and their already dead flesh is charred and burned. . Trough the smell of burnt flesh is nauseating, Garvid steels himself for the coming attack.
The zombie nearest the door throws his dancing partner aside as he lurches forward toward the dazzling wizard. His efforts are cut short by Garvid’s halberd, which slices his torso cleanly in twain . Another zombie dressed in a bright orange ball gown slashes with her claws at his throat, but misses. And another, clad in a blue velvet tux, attempts to rush at Pietro, but Garvid takes advantage of his clumsy footing and severs one of his legs! Another brandishes a purple, feathered masquerade mask, with which she attempts to bludgeon Pietro, but the doctor is quick on his feet and avoids the blow . She bares her teeth, now ready to bite. The two remaining zombies advance, fruitlessly tearing at Garvid’s heavy armor.
___________________________
Red: down
Blue: excellent health
Green: excellent health
Orange: excellent health
Purple: excellent health
Pink: excellent health
fail
fail
fail
fail
fail
pass
miss
hit
Pietro
miss
Allowing himself a small smile as the carnage commences, Garvid lets out a grunting chuckle, cracking his neck. Slamming his halberd's hilt on the ground to shake off a curled, grayish-pink viscera. "Alright. Can't take you in alive anyway.", he grins as his left hand darts out to grab the violet-clad remains of a woman by the fanciful collar away from Pietro with brutal strength, throwing the undead onto the ground. It rises its hands in the air towards Garvid, the hideous hissing sound emanating from its mouth cut short from the guardsman's heavy boot crashing into its ribcage with a terrifying crack. Foul-smelling liquids pour out, as he steps out of the ribcage with a swampy sound.
Spinning the halberd in his hand, he strikes upwards, the spike of the weapon embedding itself into the throat, dragging the corpse up the live-size portrait behind it, the sounds of torn fabric and howling of the undead. A bloody-edged gash rends the picture in two, as Garvid tosses the corpse back into the room with a flourish, grinning.