As Saroune helps Ameiko disrobe, the brutality of Tsuto's treatment becomes very clear. Scores of cuts and nicks cover her skin, but most of those were shallow, little more than scratches that had been healed when Pavanna had channeled he divine power of her goddess.
No, the worst of it is the bruises. Dark, ugly splotches cover her skin. A particularly painful looking one covers her right hip and belly, another covers the left side of her ribs, and a third covers her back. It is little wonder that she moves as stiffly as she does.
After helping her get undressed and over to the tub, Ameiko cries out in pain as she's lowered into the water. She looks up with tears of pain in her eyes.
"I'm not sure what's worse, Tsuto's betrayal, or how much it hurts to even move."
She looks down at Ameiko, trying to put on a brave face. "Turn your head around. I'll get your back for you." Dabbing her back as gently as possible, Saroune lets the silence stretch until it becomes unbearable. "Was he always this cruel?" she asks quietly.
Despite Saroune's gentleness, Ameiko occasionally winces in pain, though the hot bath seems to be easing the pain.
"To me? No, there was an argument we had where he struck me when I tried to get him and father to reconcile, but he'd always just seemed lonely to me. The other kids would bully him, and father refused to let me, or my mother visit, but I'd sneak out at night every few weeks."
A sad chuckle quickly turns to another wince. Ameiko's voice grows sadder as she continues.
"Shortly after that fight, my mother fell to her death. Tsuto claimed my father killed her. They fought and that was the last time I saw him until last night."
Fear begins to creep into her voice as her body starts to shiver.
"I didn't know he'd changed so much. He... He told me that I should leave with him, that Sandpoint would burn soon. I slapped him. I was so shocked I slapped him, and that's when the goblins burst into the room. They beat me until Tsuto could time me up. I..."
Ameiko's sobs wrack her body in great, shuddering heaves as she breaks down. Pain, fear, and sorrow flow in her tears and echo in her cries.
"I was so scared! Tsuto kept taunting me, beating me. I thou-- I thought I was going to die for his sick scheme."
Ameiko turns and wraps her dripping arms around the young wizard as she cries softly into her shoulder..
She doesn't know if what she believes what she's saying, but Ameiko needed a reprieve. Saroune knew what it was like to be hurt by her family. Sometimes, all she needed was someone to hold and to tell her everything was okay.
Ameiko calms down as Saroune comforts her. She settles back into the tub, and her face flushes again as she sees the wizard's blouse is soaked.
"Oh no! I-I-*hic* I'm sorry! I--" Ameiko forcibly stops herself, regaining her composure before beginning again.
"I am sorry Saroune, first you have to help me get ready for a bath like I'm a babe, then I go and soak your clothes. I think I have some that'll fit you if you can help me get out of here and dried off, first."
Of course, it's likely that Saroune would have needed a change of clothes anyway, since getting Ameiko out of the tub splashed a good deal of water out of the tub. Once both women are out of the small bath room, and dried off more or less, Ameiko points to the wardrobe, telling the wizard where everything is.
Luckily for Saroune, the bath seems to have eased the pain and stiffness in Ameiko's body, and she isn't in as much pain as she was getting ready for the bath. Even more fortunate for the wizard, Ameiko does have an outfit that would fit her tall frame, a pair of tight-fitting black trousers, a black, gold-trimmed vest, and a deep crimson blouse with flowing sleeves.
Once the two of them are dressed, Ameiko's spirits are a little higher, or at least high enough to tease her friend.
"My, my. Should I have Lou be your bodyguard? You'll have them begging for a dance looking like that!" Her laugh is frail, but there's genuine humor in it.
Asuriel listens to the discussions about the prisoner. She considers Olivius's comment and steps away from the prisoner so he is out of sight. She takes a deep breath and motions for her companions to join her. She whispers to her companions, "If that doesn't work, I ... I have an idea. It's risky, but I may be able to convince him that I am follower of Lamashtu."
She shifts her feet uncomfortably and says, "I have some rather compelling evidence that will assist in my claim that no one can dispute. If that is not enough, we could try to take a more risky approach. Do you think it possible we could sway him to our side if I pretended to be sent by his lover to free him? A false jailbreak so to speak? In the end the attempt will be foiled by your or the garrison but I can get him from the cell and begin to lead him away when we are recaptured and I could be thrown into an adjacent cell."
Asuriel listens to the discussions about the prisoner. She considers Olivius's comment and steps away from the prisoner so he is out of sight. She takes a deep breath and motions for her companions to join her. She whispers to her companions, "If that doesn't work, I ... I have an idea. It's risky, but I may be able to convince him that I am follower of Lamashtu."
She shifts her feet uncomfortably and says, "I have some rather compelling evidence that will assist in my claim that no one can dispute. If that is not enough, we could try to take a more risky approach. Do you think it possible we could sway him to our side if I pretended to be sent by his lover to free him? A false jailbreak so to speak? In the end the attempt will be foiled by your or the garrison but I can get him from the cell and begin to lead him away when we are recaptured and I could be thrown into an adjacent cell."
Pavanna frowns to hear that, puzzled for a moment — then she remembers what Asuriel blurted out during her panic during their time in the Tickwood, about a ‘branding’, and puts it together with what she knows of Lamashtan teachings. The Mistress of Insanity considers a scarred belly a holy mark, a sign that one will birth further monsters. Her expression holding naught but sympathy, she rests a gentle hand on the taller woman’s shoulder. “Oh, Asuriel. «Я так ужасно жаль. Они никогда не должны были этого делать вам. И если я получу шанс, я сделаю, что они за это платить.» But a false escape like that? Even if Tsuto fell for your false persona — and as I noted before, I strongly suspect he’s already seen enough of your character that he won’t — there is too much that can go wrong, too much potential for Tsuto to genuinely get away, or to kill someone else in the attempt. I don’t think we can afford that kind of risk with someone so dangerous and deranged.”
Asuriel shrugs her shoulders and looks down at Pavanna's touch to her shoulders. She mocks an obvious fake smile and nods as she says, "Может быть, вы правы. Я задумался на мгновение То, что это ужасная вещь, что они сделали для меня могут быть некоторые из использования здесь. И если Его «любовник» в том, кто я думаю, что это, мой небесный наследия Может Aussi БЫТЬ Сельское хозяйство в мою пользу."
Asuriel turns to look at Olivius out of the corner of her eye for a nervous second before returning to Pavanna.
Relax, he's clueless.
"You're probably right, it's probably not worth it. I just.." Asuriel hangs her head and looks back at the cell where the prisoner is being kept. "I just don't want anyone else to get hurt. From what that journal said, we have a lot of possible things that could start to go bad. Perhaps we should all just return to the Dragon to check on Ameiko, have a stiff drink and discuss what that book said."
Asuriel thinks back to the brand she carries and squeezes her eyes shut. With her eyes closed she takes a long drawn out breath and then looks back up at Pavanna, staring her in the eyes. ""Если вы получаете возможность, я хочу быть там, чтобы искупить 'Em ...". Asuriel clenches her teeth and finishes, "Мой путь""
"That doesn't seem like such a bad idea, actually. I'm sure Horatio would have to say something." She didn't hate the idea of getting a chance to dance. It had been too long. The wizard thinks for a moment. "You must be starving. Let me run downstairs and see if Lou has something ready."
Thirzin just remains quiet for several moments, before shaking his head slowly.
"I think it's crazy any which way, but I have no idea which'll make the most impact."
Olivius sighs and shrugs. That's it for my ideas then. Just let me know if you need him to loose a couple teeth.
Noro and Horation manage to round the last corner just in time to Lou storm past the guard who seems to stunned to stop him.
Noro recognizes the tension of his movements, and she's only seen him this anger, this full of rage once before.
Funny, Tsuto was involved that time too.
The guard all but begs you to go reign the monk in and lets you pass without much fuss.
Just as it seems you have run out of options, Lou slams the door to the room open, murder in his dark eyes. He tosses the table aside before grabbing the front of Tsuto's shirt and slamming him against the wall, dazing the half-elf when his skull cracks against the wall.
"Hello Tsuto, remember me?"
Tsuto tries to stammer something out as he regains his senses, only to be almost knocked out as he slams into the wall again.
"YES!" he squeals in terror.
You run into Tilo, who grabs Noro's arm in a vice like grip and drags her to the room holding.
"Lou's lost his gods-damned mind! I pray to the stars that you can calm him down like he does you. He's going to kill that bastard you brought in before we can even learn anything!"
You arrive at the room just in time to hear Tsuto squeal, "YES!"
Tilo, dragging Noro and Horatio behind him, comes into the room just as the last echoes of Tsuto's squealed answer fade.
"Good, then you know what's coming and why. Saves me a lot of time it does." Lou draws his fist back and slams it into Tsuto's face, once, twice, then into the man's gut. Tsuto's nose is broken, his lips pulped. Lou lets the man sob in short, painful sounding wheezes for a moment before hauling his fist back again.
"What kind of a man, what kind of a brother, beats his sister near to death? What kind of a man rapes a little girl?" Lous asks, his voice filled with cold venom and contempt.
"B-B-buhease! Mer-mershy! MERSHY!" Tsuto cries.
"Wrong answer."
Noro yells as he is about punch him again.
She rushes over to grab his arm, holding it back. Your better than thish, Pleashe, don't become what I have become.
Noro is pleading with him.
Olivius leans back against the wall and watches the fun. He doesn't have to do the punching! Still, what Lou was saying sends up a flurry of red flags. This was an old score, and bitter. He doesn't put 1, 2, and 3 together until Noro walks in the room. All he can do for several stunned seconds is utter one profoundly appropriate curse.
Saroune gets downstairs in time to find herself alone.
"H-hello?" she calls out uncertainly.
She pokes her head into the kitchen. "Lou? Bethana?"
"Prin harul lui zeilor, calmează-te!" Horatio exclaims in alarm, snapping his fingers at Lou. "Tine!" he adds, repeating the motion at Tsuto. He feels his heartbeat slowing as the magic flows through his fingers, rolls off his tongue and through the air, towards the ears of the two men.
"Now," he continues, switching back to Taldane without a pause, "Lou, why don't you let go of him? He may be a monster, but he's a monster in custody." He places a gentle hand on the cook's shoulder, attempting to lead him a step or two back from the half-elf.
Thirzin lets out a long breath, one held for too long during the tension of the possible lost negotiations. The dwarf takes his time getting over, walking to Lou's other arm.
"Lad...best be lis'ning to our young friend there...Ain't gonna do no good in getting yourself locked up in a cell too. He ain't hurting another soul, so let's just step back..."
Thirzin isn't much good at this social stuff but his hand gently touches it, as he nods to Noro and then to Lou, motioning with his eyes for them all to take a step back.
Lou and Tsuto don't seem to listen to Noro nor Horatio, that is until he tries to punch Tsuto again and finally notices his sister tugging on his arm. His head snaps around, a curse on his lips, but at the last second, he hears what she said.
He let's Tsuto drop to the floor in a sobbing heap before wrapping her in a tight embrace. He stands there for a moment just holding her there tightly.
"ごめんなさい。、野呂を許してください。私はあなたを守るためにありませんでした。私は安全にあなたを保つためにありませんでした。"
"H-here Miss. How may I help you?" Bethana says from where she was watching a pot of broth on the fire.
And Noro, you dodged a bullet. Aramis is kinda nuts. ;-)
The door bursting open makes Pavanna snatch for her sword-hilt by reflex, but Lou is a fair bit bigger than her, he’s incandescent with fury, and he’s just so damned fast about the whole thing that it’s only Horatio’s intervention that lets her parse the events of the last few breaths.
And when she does catch up, she finally puts his brotherly outrage together with his words when he first started laying into Tsuto — and when her gaze returns to the half-elf, her red eyes have narrowed into fiery slits of fury. It takes a conscious effort to force her hand open and away from her sword once more. Captor’s obligations or not, I’m almost sorry that Horatio stopped him, there....
Asuriel sighs, this day is really not going well. Everything that happened at the Glassworks aside, they've been unable to gleam any information from Tsuto and now Lou has beaten him nearly senseless.
"Ok, let's move this out of here before Belor comes down and throws you in a cell next to him."
Asuriel helps move everyone out of the cell with Tsuto and then looks down at the bloody man.
He was already barely conscious when we brought him here, we can't let him die in here.
Asuriel will ensure that he is stable before leaving the cell. She makes sure that it is locked and closed behind her. She looks back at Tsuto and shakes her head, either frustration or sadness nearly overwhelming her.
She starts walking towards the exit and croaks out in a whisper, "I'm going for a walk to clear my head, I'll meet you all back at the Dragon later."
She eyes the pot of broth. "And is there something ready to eat? Ameiko won't admit it, but she's starving."
Noro simply stood there as Lou ebraced her for a few seconds, then she wriggle free Ok, yeah, whatever.
Lou, Amieko needsh you back at the Dragon, let me deal with thish, theshe are my "demonsh" to deal with, not yoursh.
Nro pauses a bit looking among the others, she suddenly tries to shift into tough girl mode, And thishe Deamons are gonna regret messhin' with me.
"I'm not sure, but Lou was more angry than I've ever seen him when he left." Bethana shakes her head, then follows Saroune's eyes.
"That's the soup for tonight, but I'll have a plate ready for Miss Kaijitsu in a moment." The small halfling woman begins giving the two younger ones orders and soon Saroune is escorted out of the kitchen with a platter full of fruits, cheeses, bread, and cold cuts and orders to make sure Ameiko eats her fill. A step behind is one of the younger halfling maids carrying another platter with a tea set and a kettle of boiling water.
Naturally, when you arrive at Ameiko's room, she shakes her head in embarrassment.
"I'm fine, really! There's no need to make all of this fuss!" She protests, despite the fact she can't even walk without assistance.
"Not right now he's not. All of you, out!" Tilo growls before ushering everyone out the door.
Lou wraps an arm around Noro, as much to comfort her as to keep her from going after Tilo or Tsuto.
"You're right," he whispers so only she can hear, "I hate to admit it, but you're right. I can't fight those demons for you."
Shortly after getting kicked out of the garrison, you all arrive at the Rusty Dragon.
About mid afternoon, a runner comes by the Dragon carrying a very thick, very formal looking envelope. Inside is an announcement that states an emergency meeting of the council is to be held tonight, six hours past noon, and all of the party are expected to attend, as is Ameiko as the last surviving heir to the Kaijitsu family.
Thud. For the second time that day, Horatio sits heavily in a chair, taking a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose, squeeze his eyes shut, and attempt to block out his weariness. Sandpoint was proving to be emotionally draining - between the goblins, the women, and the drama, there was enough going on to make his head spin. He steadies himself after a few moments, and waves the others over as he pulls Tsuto's journal from his pack, pulling and pushing out chairs as needed. Saroune's change of clothes draws a raised eyebrow and a small smile from his face, but the exhaustion in his eyes goes a way to offsetting the humor.
He reads the contents of the journal aloud in a clear, somber tone, turning pages, tracing the drawings with his finger. He points out the plans of the raid, the promise of a larger one, the images of the beautiful woman - and makes sure to point out her similarity to the girl thought dead.
Upon finishing, he pushes the journal to the middle of the table, rubbing his left wrist as if in pain. "There's a lot to take in here, and none of it is good," he says, shaking his head. "It looks like Sandpoint's troubles are far from over."
Throw an emergency meeting where the "Heroes of Sandpoint" are required to attend and I think these troubles are starting sooner rather than later.
Olivius is in a grim mood after the reading. At least you could trust the devils of his home to be calculating. This was the stuff of nightmares.
Oh s%÷#. Our nightmares. I had forgotten about that for a minute. Not only are we likely to be charged with solving this mess of terror, we are its Targets. Wonderful. I hate assault upon a prepared position. I always lost men in that exercise. They were just slaves, but I always got berated for driving up costs.
Throw an emergency meeting where the "Heroes of Sandpoint" are required to attend and I think these troubles are starting sooner rather than later.
Olivius is in a grim mood after the reading. At least you could trust the devils of his home to be calculating. This was the stuff of nightmares.
Oh s%÷#. Our nightmares. I had forgotten about that for a minute. Not only are we likely to be charged with solving this mess of terror, we are its Targets. Wonderful. I hate assault upon a prepared position. I always lost men in that exercise. They were just slaves, but I always got berated for driving up costs.
Ping's face twists in fury as she listens to what Olivius is saying.
"They're not just slaves! They're people!"
People die in combat. Olivius shrugs. Some people claim that goblins are people too, and we've been braining a lot of them as of late.
Olivius takes Ping's face as an overreaction to a non-issue. Growing up thoroughly Chelaxian has repercussions on your world view, and his hasn't been challenged yet. At least not seriously. She shrugs off her rage as yet another in the list of people who seem overly sensitive to this particular issue.
As he stares down at the drawings, Horatio nods idly at the mention of nightmares, before suddenly starting. His mind fills in the charcoal sketches, blocks in colours, fills in violet eyes and silver hair.
Welcome to your ascension.
He pushes himself back from the table suddenly, feeling the itching of thousands of tiny legs and fangs covering him. His breathing hastens, his eyes fixed, staring, at the journal. His left hand flies to his right, scratching at the flesh, but he doesn't seem to notice.
After a few tense moments, he sits again, still shivering. '"It's her. The woman I saw in my nightmare is Nualia. But she died in the fire years ago..." He shakes his head,not quite comprehending. The talk of slaves goes right past without his noticing.
Wait, her? She was in your nightmare? Olivius sighs. [b] If we don't get a handle on this it has all the signs of going very sideways, very quickly. I suddenly feel like I have a massive target on my back instead of on my shield, where it should be.[/i]
Asuriel speaks up, "Well, actually... I'm not convinced that angel is up above."
She shifts around to look at Horatio and continues, "I believe what we were told a few days ago was that that Father Tobyn died in the fire but Nualia's remains were never found. It's assumed she died in the fire of course, but there was no specific evidence to support that theory other than her disappearance... until now."
Horatio, can I look that journal again? There were a few things that I saw earlier that I wanted to look at again. It might be important for us to review this in-depth before our meeting tonight.
Throw an emergency meeting where the "Heroes of Sandpoint" are required to attend and I think these troubles are starting sooner rather than later.
Olivius is in a grim mood after the reading. At least you could trust the devils of his home to be calculating. This was the stuff of nightmares.
Oh s%÷#. Our nightmares. I had forgotten about that for a minute. Not only are we likely to be charged with solving this mess of terror, we are its Targets. Wonderful. I hate assault upon a prepared position. I always lost men in that exercise. They were just slaves, but I always got berated for driving up costs.
Pavanna is standing behind Horatio, reading over his shoulder to see the original words and images. Olivius’ remark about ‘driving up costs’ makes her flinch in disgust, but she manages to bite down on a comment that might ruin their friendship. If ever there was a time I was grateful to be raised in Cheliax but not of it! Mother would certainly have taken her sword to all responsible if she’d been there, and I wouldn’t have been more than two steps behind her.
Ping's face twists in fury as she listens to what Olivius is saying.
"They're not just slaves! They're people!"
People die in combat. Olivius shrugs. Some people claim that goblins are people too, and we've been braining a lot of them as of late.
Olivius takes Ping's face as an overreaction to a non-issue. Growing up thoroughly Chelaxian has repercussions on your world view, and his hasn't been challenged yet. At least not seriously. He shrugs off her rage as yet another in the list of people who seem overly sensitive to this particular issue.
Pavanna’s response to that overwhelms her self-control, though she tries to keep it tart rather than acidic. “Clearly your teachers and mine are of different schools of thought, Olivius: I was always taught that one has to carefully weigh the value of achieving an objective against the lives it would cost. That you were forced to squander your troops’ lives for the sake of a mere practice session just reminds me once again that the Chelish nobility’s hell-bred ‘advisers’ have much to answer for.”
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she turns her attention back to the maps and tactical diagrams in the journal. “But that is an argument we may have to have some other time. Once we have stopped this — ‘Nualia Tobyn’, was it? — and her allies from sacking this whole town.”
She considers the crude tactical maps with a professional’s eye. “Standing our ground to meet this assault on Sandpoint’s walls is not viable,” she judges clinically. “If Tobyn can unite the goblin tribes as these plans suggest, there would be far too many earfangs coming this way and not enough men to meet them, even if they attacked the northern wall head-on. And they won’t make a purely frontal attack — even if the river approaches weren’t wide open, these ‘smuggling tunnels’ mean that all she has to do is force the defenders to commit against an attack on the walls, then send another contingent of goblins up into the town’s centre behind them, and it will be all over bar the screaming and burning.
“Worse yet, there won’t just be earfangs coming out of those tunnels. Whatever ‘freaks’ lair in those tunnels, they are controlled by a demon. Quasits are amongst the least forms of demon, perhaps, but they remain demons. I wonder where it came from?” she wonders, almost to herself, almost slipping out of ‘soldier’ mode into ‘fascinated academic musing’. “They’re normally summoned as familiars by magicians who traffic with the Abyss. Perhaps it’s Tobyn’s familiar, sent ahead to recruit allies? Has she become a sorceress in the years since she faked her death in the church-fire Asuriel mentioned?”
She ponders that idea for a moment, then dismisses it as irrelevant for the time being. “We can only deal with one problem at a time. If these writings are to be believed, Tobyn’s pre-occupied at Thistletop for the moment, trying to free this ‘Malfeshnekor’ — whatever it is. We need to strip her of her allies and close off her avenues of attack before she manages to release the beast.
“Our first priority has to be dealing with the closest, most immediate threat. This quasit and whatever ‘freaks’ she commands are beneath our feet even now, and denying Tobyn their combat-power — and closing the tunnels to keep the attack from bypassing the town’s defensive-works — will make our situation rather less complicated than it is right now. I’d recommend that we head down into the tunnels early tomorrow, once we’re all rested and have gathered all of our various powers as best we can.”
After another moment to let that idea settle into everyone’s minds, her own included, she looks up from her musings and smiles at Horatio, Saroune (in her new, incredibly pretty outfit!), Ping, and Asuriel. “To that end, I suggest that we academics, religious types, and purveyors of mystical knowledge pool our expertise on demons in general, and quasits in particular, to nail down their exact powers and weaknesses. Even so small and weak a demon could be a formidable foe in the wrong circumstances, so it would pay to know how to kill the thing in the fastest, easiest fashion, then get the tools to do it.” A thought occurs to her, as she remembers the place where she first met Saroune — the Curious Goblin — and she surprises herself with a half-laugh and a rueful eye-roll. “With luck, Chask Haladan won’t mind us dropping by his shop again to read up.”
Asuriel ponders over Pavanna's speech. "Do you really think it's better to go after the quasit if we suspect Nualia to be behind this? She was revered in this town and they mourned her loss heavily."
Asuriel shifts in her seat uncomfortably and adds, "And-and I'd just like to say that we don't know for certain that it is Nualia Tobyn. She was an Aasimar after all and it seems unlikely does it not? Assimars are known for standings in honor, protection, healing. I'm having a hard time believing it is actually her. Perhaps someone has assumed her identity and is claiming to be her? Maybe that ties in to the break-in in the boneyard?"