”Here,” she says handing Fuero the items. ”Read it at your convenience.”
The note displays the precise penmanship of a scribe. I don’t want her to hear this. Is this place secured against magical divination? How likely could her husband find her with magic?
'Ares' clears his throat loudly. Once he'd got her attention, he nods at the slave girl.
The woman seems content in her faith of her husband for now, sitting quietly against the wall with an occasional sniff.
Fuero reads the note, then gives a shake of his head. "Just a cave."
~Marketplace~
"Games have been postponed for the day. Sounds like a plan though." The man strolls off, finishing his apple.
~Stables~
The little slave gives a smile to Bjorkus. "Well if it ain't Ares himself! I only slipped in at the end of your last match, but it was incredible! How far you planning to go?"
'Ares' shares a nod with his master before kneeling to talk to the gnome.
"I plan to win", the bull rumbles. "To earn my freedom and if I'm lucky, freedom for a few others."
"It's a shame the games were canceled today. I was lookin' forward to givin' folks a proper show again. Have you heard anythin' 'bout who else is lined up for the next round?"
~Stables~
She gives Bjorkus a little look when he talks of freeing other slaves, but doesn't comment on it. "Well the way I heard it things are going to proceed tomorrow, so you have now worries there!" She glances around, and seeing the group is alone turns with a smile. "Could be I heard something, but my pockets are awful light today."
Fuero grunts, taking out a little piece of wood and a knife and begins to whittle.
"I've got plenty of weight to go around, as you can see." He slips a gold piece into his hand and hands it to her. "Now, I could be willing to part with a few ounces, depending on how much good the story is."
"A slave doesn't have much", the bull rumbles with a gesture toward his penniless state (save his loincloth). "But a champion in the arena makes for a good friends to have."
The gnome pockets the gold piece with a smile. "Much appreciated." She peeks around the corner, then ushers you all in closer. Ninnec goes to watch for any eavesdroppers. "Targ's wanting to make the tournaments something spectacular, but that's small news and a lot have figured that out already. What is interesting is that he's hurt by something. Not a physical wound, but when he stepped down from his palanquin he winced, pressing a hand to his torso. Something funny going on there if you ask me. Covered it up real quick too."
"Wouldn't that be physical?"
"That's what I thought too, but he doesn't have any new or healing wounds. I should clarify, not a normal wound from a physical weapon."
Nothing of interest happens during your watch, and when you wake in the morning Fuero reports the same. But when the sun is a few hours in the sky a few voices are heard off in the distance.
"Hot as hell today."
"Hey, it's well paying, keep looking."
"Shut up the both of you, you might scare them off."
Giving the gnome a searching look, Toramin inquires, "No sign of a wound? Do you have access to his body slaves?"
She laughs. "I just saw Targ in passing. I'm a lowly stable slave."
Was he shirtless?
"Ares barely wears less than Targ does."
'Ares' rumbles with laughter at the girl's reply.
"If there's no bouts today, my master would see me primed for tomorrow. Where do fighters go to train 'round here?"
"Uhh, not exactly my area of expertise. Normally the arena is open for those kinds of things but it's busy with the tournaments. Hmm, I mean you can always go just outside the gates and fight."
Ninnec comes back into the conversation. "There is a bar in the less desirable part of Akropash that holds unarmed fights in the basement. Nobody dies, but it can be pretty brutal. There are a few manors that have large rooms or backyards wide enough to have private training, but you would need to know the master of the house."
'Ares' shares a glance with his master.
Not only did the prospect of keeping Ares up to par seem like a good investment in his protection for the arena, there could be plenty of information floating about in such a place. "And how would one acquaint himself with the master of the house, Ninnec?"
"I do not know him personally, I tend to avoid such areas. Asking for him is the simple way. Starting a barfight is a riskier way."
"Whom do I ask?"
"The bartender at the Green Spider, I believe his name is Rietac."
"Another day, another errand," muttered Dalton. "Well, let's hop to it- the faster we're in, the faster we're out."
Delayed, hmm.
Lindale head to a tavern/bar and have a few drinks trying to gather information as to why the arena has been delayed.
"I was looking forward to the fights. Beasts dying the way beasts do."
Fuero jumps to his feet, drawing steel and going outside. When Rilka begins walking over to the woman with the gag she shies away. "What are you doing that for? I haven't been any trouble!"
Lindale manages to talk to the same two orcs who were playing tablets the other day. The smart one shrugs. "Happens. Only a day. Sure they just fixing something."
The woman's trust in Rilka suddenly turns to fear as she bows her head in compliance, although the waterworks are starting again.
Rilka slips outside quietly and joins Fuero who is peeking over a dune at the direction of the voices. Three figures, probably male, are heading in the general direction of your cave. They are wrapped in silks to protect them from the sun so their feature are obscured, but all wear weapons. They scan the horizon constantly, but do not appear to notice Rilka or Fuero.
The party (save Lindale and Rilka) begin following Ninnec to the Green Spider. But once out of the market district Bjorkus and Ninnec both notice a pair of white cloaks nonchalantly tailing them. It's easy to tell from the sudden nervousness in Ninnec that he doesn't want to bring the party to an illegal fight club with Aussirian agents following you.
Bjorkus growls in frustration at the persistent tail.
"Know a place we can lose the 'em?" the bull rumbles quietly as he steps up next to the ratfolk.
"I know several places where I could lose them, but making an entire group disappear is harder. Especially when you're not trained in it." He suddenly turns to Dalton and bows. "I'm sorry master, I didn't mean to suggest you or any of your slaves were incapable, I just...was trying to assess the situation honestly."
'Ares' looks to his master.
Dalton points towards a random building off to the side, giving a peripheral glance about to see their numbers.
"There are two of them and a few more of us. Unless they've learned to divide, the arithmetic is simple. We can split into three groups, one of which goes to the Spider. If they're followed, the group just heads to one of the other two locations, and whoever's not followed ducks in. I'd suggest Toramin double-up with you." And if they just focus on the inn, then it's probably best we just go.
‘Ares’ grunts and nods in understanding.
"I will keep him safe."
Lindale finds a quiet alley to walk down and changes his disguise to look like a common human man then heads back around to the dancer's house to see the elf.
~Main Group~
Ninnec nods, affirming that he thinks the plan is a good idea. He follows Toramin as Dalton and Bjorkus split off into other directions. The two white cloaks surprisingly don't split up, both of them following Bjorkus.
~Lindale~
Lindale finds his way to the Silk Urumi easily enough and it only takes him a moment to spot the lithe elf serving drinks to a crowded table of halflings and dark skinned humans.
"This plan is a bad one. If we have two obvious tails, then most likely we have several unseen ones. They have the benefit of better coordination and more information. We should not do anything even the slightest bit questionable. How can we spend the afternoon boring our pursuers?" Toramin whispers to Ninnec.
The dwarf tries to give him a comforting smile. Why do so few people think strategically?
"We could go to each clothing merchant and try to find a particular shade of silk that we just must have, and once we entirely exhaust the merchants we'll start requesting that the new color be mixed and made custom. I used that a few years ago on a few Dark Wraiths tailing me."
'Ares' cocks an eyebrow at the strange gesture. "Magic", he rumbles. "Powerful magic."
"I like this plan; I also like that you had a plan. We should talk. Our employer is a decent man and generous, but he seems to be always getting into things without plans, without strategy. Perhaps, you and I might be able to help to ease his burden in this regard, so that the money continues to flow and we all thrive. Some might overlook your value, but you have kept yourself alive in a hostile place for a long time. I am most impressed."
"Sometimes a plan is the only think that keeps us little ones alive. So, a light magenta-brick-red sound ok? It has to have just a hair of purple and just a touch of brown, and of course a hair and a touch are entirely different quantities."