Exhausted, relieved and more than a little hungry & thirsty, Lia helps herself to a cup of black coffee and a few pastries.
"Mmmph." She pauses as she finishes the pastry in her mouth and follows it up with a sip of coffee. "Your hospitality is greatly appreciated, Mistress Longroad. I am Lady Lia of House Aulamaxa, and I am merely a concerned citizen who wishes to see Barzillai Thrune's--" She clears her throat briefly. "--'rule' brought to an end."
"And speaking of adventures..." She looks down at her bloodied and torn clothes and takes another draft from her coffee cup. "...does anyone have something to fix all the tears in the fabric? And a place to wash them? I'd very much appreciate it."
I can only imagine the worried lectures I'll get from Mom and Dad if they were to see me like this...
So this was the lionized Laria Longroad. Rexus had mentioned her often enough that the woman already felt half-familiar to Didiana. But then, that might also have something to do with her demeanor; the halfling had the welcoming air of a trained storekeeper. The armiger followed her into the establishment, where she immediately stepped in front of Lia to shield the shorter woman from the patrons. The half-elf's bloodied clothes were likely to provoke unwanted questions, and barring that there was always the chance that she might simply be recognized. They were close enough to the Greens, after all.
Didiana followed the halfling into her office, only stopping to give a sideward glance at Her Infernal Majesty's likeness hanging above the bar. Even here there was no escaping Barzillai Thrune and his pompous proclamations. It was only once seated, with the smell of coffee and pastries titillating her nose, that she felt her pulse slowing down to something approaching normal levels. Her heart had been racing ever since their narrow escape. And with her adrenaline tapering off, she also became aware of something else: that damned itching! She had managed to ignore it in all the excitement, but the lice were back in full force now. Hadn't Rexus said that Laria had some delousing agent? She sighed. Not a conversation she was looking forward to.
She raised an exhausted hand to decline the offered refreshments, no matter how tempting. Didiana didn't want to be rude but she did not indulge. In anything. The armiger had sworn off all earthly temptations not long before joining the Torrent. Pleasure lead to vice and Didiana didn't trust herself with it, convinced as she was that her soul was tainted.
““Now then, sweethearts, we have some privacy, so how about everyone introduce themselves? I’m Laria, as you’ve no doubt surmised by now. While you’re introducing yourselves, why don’t each of you also explain why you’re interested in rebuilding the Silver Ravens?”
The red-haired woman suppressed the urge to scratch at herself. "Didiana Drost. Armiger of the Torrent. I..."
Reason to rebuild a rebel group? She wondered for a moment herself. Because she found Barzillai's abuse of the law personally offensive? Because it was what the hellknight philosophy demanded of her? Because the Lord-Mayor's gleeful misuse of political power reminded her of teenage self's abuse of magical power? Because she was scared that that person was still alive and well somewhere inside her? Because she had established such a rigid set of ethical rules and guidelines for herself, that she had no option but to rebel or lose any sense of who she was as a person? Because she feared for her soul? A thousand other tangential and ultimately selfish reasons that didn't have a thing to do with the city, its people and the safeguarding thereof?
She was tired. Her mind went to undesirable places when tired.
"... I object to the Lord-Mayor's misconduct of the law."
Heavens above, she just wanted to be rid of this lice.
As the group successfully escaped the livery without the dottari or the Order of the Rack being aware of them, Evander felt a certain amount of relief they hadn't been caught. Moving through the streets, the group is able to make their way to the coffee shop. Casually hanging outside the building, he waits until she invites them in - surprisingly warmly for a stranger welcoming in a group of traitors. Could she be trusted? Rexus trusted her, but he wasn't too sure Rexus's judgement could necessarily be trusted in this.
He watched her, carefully, trying to discern her motive in helping them.
Looking at Matiscio, Laria says, “Thanks for spoiling you? Deary, this is nothing for me. It’s the least I can do for budding rebels like yourselves.
“I’m sorry to hear about your missing and hurt. I hope you find the ones you lost. Barzillai doesn’t discriminate when it comes to distributing his wickedness.
“I’d like to hear more about where you were and what’s in that lockbox of yours, but I also want to hear a bit about the rest of you.
“As for you, Lady Aulamaxa, I must admit that I’m a bit flummoxed that one of your social standing would be involved in an affair such as this. Jarrod Aulamaxa stops by every now and then for a cup of coffee and seems like a nice enough fella. But who would have thought he was harboring a rebel, eh?”
“Concerning your frayed clothes, I’m afraid I’m a baker not a seamstress. I know of a nice tiefling fella who runs The Devil’s Threads in Redroof that could sew up your fabric in no time, though. Despite being a tiefling, I can personally vouch for the quality of his character and work. Top notch all around. I’m sure he could wash your clothes for you as well if you ask nicely.”
Laria looks surprised when Didiana mentions that she’s an armiger. “See something new everyday, I suppose. Happy to have you, dear.
“I’m sorry to say that I know of the disappearance of your Lictor. He was a good man even if he was a bit stuck up. He’s always been good to Kintargo as far as I’m concerned. He would surely be a strong ally against Thrune.
“Sadly, I don’t have a clue where he might have gone. I’d suggest you hold off on looking for him for now, if only to let the new group of Hellrais-Hellknights that Thrune brought in have time to lose interest in the Torrent.”
Rexus sees the subtle signs of Didiana struggling to suppress her desire to scratch herself and recognizes them as indications of her lice infestation. Looking at Laria, he says, “Would you happen to have a delousing agent that the good armiger could use to remove a certain… malady… that affects her? I am certain she would be exceedingly grateful.”
Laria looks at Rexus and shakes her head before looking at Didiana. “Ah, sweetie, nothing so fancy as a delousing agent is needed. A good, hot bath will get rid of your problem in a jiffy. I’ve got a bathtub upstairs. Just say the word and I’ll get a steaming bath ready for you.”
Turning to the rest of the group, Laria smiles at Evander when she notices him watching her carefully. As far as Evander can tell, Laria is completely genuine in wanting to help the group rebuild the Silver Ravens. While her exact motives haven’t been revealed, she seems to care deeply for Rexus and perhaps Kintargo as a whole.
Laria grabs a pastry off the tray and takes a bite before saying, “What about the rest of you folks? What’re your stories?”
Gilda has no qualms about Didiana's likely affliction, jutting a thumb in her general direction.
"I dunno if a hot bath'd do it entirely. I remember the time Gaptooth Greg picked it, on accounts of sleepin' with some dogs to stay warm a few winters back... we had to shave him and dip his bald head in kerosene."
Gilda sidles over towards Didiana and begins narrowing her eyes at her red hair, ever searching for one of the little devils to be leaping about.
With her head slightly tilted back, she glanced sideways at Laria.
"I mean some of us aren't here to tell no stories. My story? Ehhhh, it ain't nothin' fancy. Let's just say Lord Beetlezub and I ain't on good terms on accounts of what happened to a ... dear friend of mine."
Deciding to give up on inspecting Didiana further, Gilda allows herself to slump back into the chair.
"And sides, he's screwin' the place up real good! What with all these special rules... Ain't noone in Ol' Kintargo wanting no new rules hung over there heads. It's all them folks are talkin' about..."
She turns towards Evander and opts to use his name for once.
"Ain't that right, Evander?"
"I dunno if a hot bath'd do it entirely. I remember the time Gaptooth Greg picked it, on accounts of sleepin' with some dogs to stay warm a few winters back... we had to shave him and dip his bald head in kerosene."
"Thank you, Ms Grapabble! I'm sure that won't be necessary!"
It took a fair bit of doing to get Didiana flustered, but by golly had they managed to do so. She leaned back in her chair to get away from the older woman's inquisitive eyes. Hearing Rexus and Laria speak of her lice infested self so openly had left her red-faced with shame, but there was nothing to do except take the halfling up on her offer. Winning the respect and fear of the people as disciplinary overseers of society was hard enough without rumors of lice.
"And thank you, Ms Longroad. That would be nice..."
Still though; Didiana had to arch a red eyebrow at the storekeeper's words. The woman was evidently well informed. The Lictor's disappearance was why she had insisted that she joined the rebellion as a private citizen, not as a representative of her Order. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't ask the Torrent for support with its leader missing.
That said, she had no intention of looking for her leader, as Laria suggested. That was not her right. If Thrune had gotten hold of him on the Night of Ashes, then she was already on the path to finding him. If he had himself gone underground for some clandestine mission, then it was not for her to seek him.
But she really wished he was here. Not knowing where her own Order stood on Barzillai Thrune was torture. She could hardly sleep at night for fear that her actions would lead to excommunication. Among other things.
Gregor is just shy of a state of panic during the whole escape. Or, more likely the closest he's ever been to a state of panic, which may present itself primarily as a quaver in his voice and slight flush to his cheeks. The fact that they made it without any sign of trouble allows him to return to his rigid posture and steely demeanor.
The long walk to the coffee house gives him time to think about what just happened, and he remains quiet during the entire trip. He unties and unwraps the strip of cloth that Didiana had cut and offered him. Folding the ragged strip, he tucks it carefully into his pack. He is at first concerned over the halfling woman's claims of catching up, but realizes by her wink that she means something different. He follows her and the others to the back room, taking in the details of the coffee house as he would any building, looking for both egress routes and ample cover.
As others indulge in the offered food and drink, he slightly waves his hand in refusal. Sweets are an unnecessary indulgence that makes one fat and not fit to fight, and coffee is a crutch for those without the internal fortitude to keep themselves awake. He could almost hear his father's voice in his head as he thinks about one of the many things he was taught growing up.
As he listens to the others, he stands in his usual formal 'relaxed' position with his hands folded in front of him. As soon as he has a chance, he steps up to intrduce himself. "I am Gregor Ward. I am... " He clenches his teeth and exhales deeply through his nose, "was a Senior Dottari Recruit, following in the footsteps of my father, and his father before him. The role of Dottari is one of honor, loyalty, and justice for the city, the people, and my fellow guardsmen. The current Lord-Mayor has subverted and corrupted his position, demanding those things for him alone, without giving it back to that which he rules over. I was 'removed' from the position I worked my whole life to attain, because I refused to swear my loyalty to the man over the position he holds and the role it fills."
He furrows his brow and scowls, "Why the Silver Ravens, you ask? Why not? I know nothing of rebellion, or any organizations that foment it, beyond the Dottari teaching us that they must be put down at the first signs of rearing its head. If the Silver Ravens are the organization with either the experience or information on how to succeed against corruption at the highest echelon, then finding out what they knew is imperative to our success."
He switches his stance, to a more formal one, locking his hands behind the small of his back, "As for a report on what we have encountered thus far, it is short. We arrived at the Fair Fortune Livery in the morning to find that the front doors were secured by a lock and chain. After Mr. Forrell managed to open it, using my tools, we faced a small pack of feral dogs." He leaves out the disagreement, sticking purely to the facts as if he were giving a report to his watch officer. "Searching the premises, we discovered a key that opened a locked gate into a smaller portion of the livery, wherein there was a hidden door left ajar. We noticed what we worried were signs of a haunting, but continued on to a trapdoor in the floor. Descending into the space below, we faced a nest of dire rats, and then into the large slaughterhouse floor to fight off a small group of vomiting gremlins. The things were easily dispatched, and we discovered a secondary gate, also unlocked by the key found earlier. The second gate led to a befouled underground cistern, within which were three lesser devils. The fight was protracted, and complicated, but they were eventually dispatched via..." He seems to struggle to come up with the words, "alternative and irregular methods." Regardless of his opinions on the action, he refuses to berate his fellows in front of someone not a part of their group.
"After the battle, we found a few chests of equipment, some symbological silver raven figures, and another that we have yet to open to see the worth of its contents." He indicates the chest that Matiscio carried. "Due to the 'commotion' caused by our last fight, we got the attention of the local authorities, and had to beat a hasty and hidden retreat from the livery." His report given, he returns to his 'relaxed' position, considering his part completed.
His study ended, Evander sighed as her motives seemed genuine, and finally relaxed, taking a coffee and a small pastry. Gregor's stiff reporting, rather like a...well, a Dottari reporting to a senior officer, mostly fills in what they've been through. Once Gregor is done, he says, "My name is Evander Forrell. Until Barzillai's arrival, I was a copyist and translator at the Opera House. Since he is now living there, I find myself unemployed with quite a bit of free time on my hands. In addition, he seems to care nothing for the actual well-being of the city, and may actually be insane. His proclamations are ludicrous, and he is clearly unfit to govern. That's why I'm interested in helping the Silver Ravens. Gregor seems to have summed the story up nicely, so I won't repeat it here."
Gilda slaps her knee and issues a loud guffaw as Gregor delivers his formal report.
"HA!"
She smiles, disarmingly - her laugh wasn't meant as an insult, but showed her general amusement with their motley band of rebels.
"Once a dottari, always a dottari, ammiright Dottari Greg?"
Glancing towards Didiana, Lia and other the others, Gilda goes right to work on diffusing the latest conflict within the group.
"And speakin' of alternative and irregular methods, if we're plannin' to rebel, I'm sure there's gonna be plenty of alternative and irregular methods employed from this point forward!"
Gilda stops just shy of gesturing 'air quotes' as she repeats Gregor's definition of their efforts to create a new sinkhole in Kintargo.
"Although, perhaps it's best we employ methods that do more damage to Boarbeetle than the city streets."
Smacking her lips, Gilda helps herself to some of the offered food, eating it like she hasn't had a meal in a few days (which might actually be the case). As crumbs fall into her lap, a pink nose and grey whiskers can be seen in a flash devouring them before disappearing once again.
"So it sounds like Rebel Rex and yous maybe been plannin' this for some time. You got any bright ideas on what we'd do to strike next?"
As every time prior, Gregor bristles at Gilda's nickname. "Once again, Mrs. Grabapple, it is Gregor, neither Greg nor Gregory. And, as I have just explained, I am no longer a Dottari and should not be labelled as such either in private or public." He leaves the other assertion unaddressed, as that is a conversation for them in private as a team, and not aired before strangers.
Laria looks perplexed and more than a bit distraught when Gilda more or less suggests shaving Didiana’s head and dipping it in kerosene.
“I assure you, ma’am, that such measures are unnecessary. Armiger Drost need only fully submerge herself in some water and her problem will be no more.”
Gilda’s careful observation of Didiana reveals quite a few oddities about Didiana’s hair. Some of those oddities have to do with the armiger’s lice infestation, but Gilda also recognizes that Didiana’s hair color is highly unusual for a person of Chelaxian descent.
"As for yourself, ma’am,” Laria says to Gilda, “I’m sorry to hear about your friend. Hopefully this rebellion can make amends for quite a few wrongs Thrune has been responsible for.
“His rules are quite crushing. Based on his latest proclamation, I dread the day he issues another. Gods be with the captains sailing into the Yolubilis now. At the very least, they’re in for quite a headache.”
At Didiana’s thank you, Laria smiles and nods before saying, “You’re most welcome, dear. I’ll have one of my employees draw you up a bath as soon as we’re done here.”
Laria is a bit taken aback by Gregor’s formal tone. Still, she listens closely to his story and the tale of the party’s adventure. “It’s good to have such a wide variety of people. It’ll make gathering resources for the rebellion a bit easier.”
When Evander mentions the Opera House, Laria sighs and says, “Ah, the Opera House. Other than the loss of life, Thrune’s seizure of the place is what makes me angry the most. I’m sorry you now find yourself unemployed, but once this rebellion gets going, I doubt you’ll have much free time on your hands.
“And sadly, I strongly doubt he is insane. His actions on the Night of Ashes were too swift and too cunning. He seems to have some unknown agenda. Evil, yes. Insane? I’m afraid not.”
Looking back at Gilda and Gregor, Laria says, “I wouldn’t take it too personally, Gregor. I think she uses ‘Dottari Greg’ as a term of endearment. Also, Beetlezub and Boarbeetle are good ones, but I prefer Brasslizard personally, even if it is a bit of a stretch. And I do have a few ideas in mind as to our next moves.”
Looking back at the group as a whole, Laria says, “Anyway, thank you for telling me your stories, huns. As exhausting as I’m sure your little adventure was, you made it out alright. Better yet, you all still look ripe to participate in a rebellion.”
Laria smiles broadly and mischievously at her own words. “I must admit, I’m a bit biased to trust you fellas based solely on your association with the good sir Victocora.”
At Laria’s remark, Rexus grins sheepishly, trying to downplay Laria’s compliment. “Now, Laria, these fine men and women have proven themselves trustworthy by their actions, not just their associations. Yes, I vouch for their dependability, but their deeds speak for themselves.”
“Yes, yes,” Laria replies as she picks up one of the cups of coffee and takes a sip. “Now to matters of a more present variety. What’s in that iron coffer you’re holding, Matiscio?”
“I’m eager to know as well,” Rexus says. "Would one of the more… enterprising… among you be willing to try to open it for us?”
"I'll give it a check and see what I can find. Gregor, can I borrow your tools?"
Gilda waves off Gregor, knowing she'll find something else to address him with, possibly reserving Dottari Greg for private use, or an occasional slip-up that she's certain she'll be forgiven for.
Because old people... amirite?
"Brasslizard? Nahhhh, too shiny! I've found it's best to try on a dozen outfits before you decide which one to wear to the ball..."
She glances Gregor's way.
"And you'll know when you've found just the right one. It'll stick so good, it won't come off!"
As the matter is brought back to the coffer, Gilda leans forward anxiously.
"Ohh.. I hope it's something good. My friend Nervous Nancy once found a lamp in a trash heap. Boy, she thought if she rubbed it hard enough a Qadiran genie'd pop out and grant her three wishes. She started plannin' what she was gonna wish for. Spend months planning it before she was gonna rub it..."
"Turns out she lost the lamp by the time she decided. Go figure!"
She leans a little closer.
"You guys think someone tucked a magic lamp inside? Maybe we could wish for Barzlebutt to simply vanish? Or turn into a pig? That'd be a hoot!"
Gilda slaps her leg as she chuckles at the thought and begins seriously wishing for a magic lamp to be tucked away inside.
Gregor lets Evander use his thieves’ tools. Evander gets the coffer open after a few attempts.
Rexus takes the newly opened coffer eagerly and pulls out four unidentified scrolls. With a wave of her hand, Didiana is able to comprehend each scroll with her recently increased magical prowess.
The first scroll is a Scroll of Misdirection. The second scroll is a Scroll of Pass Without Trace. The third scroll is a Scroll of Undetectable Alignment. The fourth scroll is a Scroll of Whispering Wind.
Underneath those scrolls is a stack of documents containing hundreds of pages. No magic lamp rests at the coffer’s bottom. The nobleman takes a minute to glance through the documents before saying, “These are extraordinary! They appear to be written in some sort of cipher. I see a few different languages here… Celestial, Elven, and Strix. The Silver Ravens must have used the languages to conceal their communications should they ever be intercepted by Infernal agents. I should be able to decode these documents, given enough time. It will take several weeks, though.”
Rexus looks up from examining the documents and says, “Thank you. These are surely what my mother wanted me to find. I can only imagine what secrets of the Silver Ravens we’ll learn from decoding these papers.”
He looks down at the documents again and has a thoughtful expression on his face. After a moment, he looks up again and says, “I also need to thank you for your kindness to me yesterday and today. People have shunned me in the past, so I half expected you all to do likewise. You see, I was raised as a lady till I was fourteen, but when I met a Shelynite tutor who was more… flexible… in their views, I realized my future was far more moldable than I had ever realized before. This insight led me to a way of growing up I’d always coveted, but never imagined possible.
“My parents lovingly embraced me as a man of course, but the news was scandalous in our social circles. I was rejected by most of my old friends and had to make new ones. I made friends with musicians, servants, tutors, street urchins, and, most recently, all of you. But it was still difficult at times to find people with shared interests and experiences. So again, thank you for your kindness. I’m sure my mother and father would thank you as well if they were still alive.”
At the mention of his mother and father, tears begin to stream down his face. He doesn’t bother trying to hide them this time. This continues for the better part of a minute before he notices that a few teardrops are splashing onto the documents in his hands. Quickly regaining his composure, Rexus puts the papers back into the coffer and puts it on the ground to his side, safe from tears.
“Please excuse my behavior. It isn’t fitting for a rebellion. I fear many more will die before this city is liberated… or lost forever.”
“Ah, Rexus, you have nothing to apologize for,” Laria says. “I’m certain your mother and father would be proud of you. You still have much to accomplish, dear, so I won’t have you getting depressed. After all, you’ve got some of the Silver Ravens’ documents to decode.”
Rexus simply nods and looks down at his now empty palms. The man had clearly shared some of the most personal details about his life. He needed time to reflect and recover.
Deciding to give Rexus time to think, Laria says,“As Rexus mentioned, your dependability will be critical in the coming days, weeks, and months. It’s also why I’m trusting all of you with a bit of personal info about myself. This information is not for everyone.”
The halfling pauses for a moment, as if collecting her thoughts, before continuing. “During the day, I’m a baker here at the Coffeehouse. What most don’t know, though, is that I work with the Bellflower Network. Bribing officials, ferrying slaves and fugitives out of Cheliax and Nidal and into distant Varisia, forging paperwork, that sort of thing. I used to work as a tiller, leading escapees to freedom.
“Nowadays, I coordinate… exfiltrations… to more friendly shores. As such, I work with dozens of like-minded folks in Kintargo’s underworld: smugglers, cutthroats, freedom fighters, and others of similar ilk. I do my best to make sure anyone working to undermine imperial influence in Kintargo has the stuff needed to do so.”
Laria takes a sip of coffee and looks at the dark beverage for a moment before frowning and continuing, “The Bellflower Network is in hibernation for the moment. I sent my last fugitive slaves to Varisia on board a ship only four days ago. The Network is withdrawing from the city while things settle. If you folks manage to rebuild the Silver Ravens, I might be able to start things back up, but until then, I’d rather keep a low profile.”
“Nevertheless, I’m happy to help as much as I can with this rebellion of yours. Rexus and his mother deserve my support if nothing else, but you all seem like folks worth helping as well. I never had a chance to visit the Sacred Order’s headquarters, something I now regret, so I’m afraid I can’t be of much assistance on that front.”
“On the other hand, thanks to my connections, I do know of a few allies that – if they can be found – would be most amenable to a rebellion. The half-elven opera singer Shensen is one such individual. She’s a devoted worshipper of Sarenrae, so I’m sure she’d love to take down Thrune. There’s also the Rose of Kintargo, the name the cult of Milani uses here in Kintargo. Sadly, both Shensen and the Rose have gone silent.”
“Another ally would be Jilia Bainilus, if not for her absence like the others.” At this comment, Laria purses her lips and furrows her brow. “I don’t buy that the good Mayor Bainilus fled Kintargo for Arcadia. From what little I know of that Barzillai Thrune, he likely imprisoned her somewhere in the city. For her sake, I hope putting her in prison was the worst thing Thrune did to her.” No sensing of Laria’s motives is needed to see she doesn’t hold out much hope that Bainilus was merely imprisoned.
Turning back to the group as a whole, Laria says, “All my info is at least a week old thanks to Barzillai’s scorched-earth policy. Most of my information network has been killed, arrested, or run to ground. I feel almost completely blind as a fixer.”
Laria glances at each member of the group before saying, “Ah, but my issues aren’t you fine folks’ problems. What is your problem is Barzlebutt.” Laria flashes a grin at Gilda. “I might have a place you all can use as a hideout. The catch is that it’s not currently in my control.
“You see, I use a set of tunnels below this Coffeehouse to hide fugitives, Bellflower tillers, and stolen goods. Or I used to anyway. We call the place ‘The Wasp Nest.’ I was letting a friend, Nan Comerivos, use the Nest to smuggle a load of Varisian textiles through the tunnels. He had been storing many of them until he could find a buyer. Nan arrived a few days ago to check on his goods amid Kintargo’s troubles, but he hasn’t come out of the place.
“With the city and my network falling apart, I haven’t had the time to follow up on my friend’s fate. I’m hoping he’s just fine and is only lying low. Someone’s been eating the food and wine I leave in the basement, after all. By night, though, I hear inhuman laughter echo from below, which is quite disturbing to say the least.”
“If you all will investigate the rooms below and make sure Nan’s safe, I’ll let you use Long Roads and the rooms below for as long as you need them. I’ve also got some beds upstairs that you can use if you need a place to stay or to lie low. They aren’t going to see much use otherwise with the Bellflower Network being down and all.”
“So what do you say? Care to help out a renegade halfling?”
Gregor listens to the nickname exchange with slight disdain, before adding what seems like an obvious point, "If you are to mock someone by calling them by an unaccepted and unappreciated name, and mockery it is," He directs his gaze to Gilda to let her know what he thinks of any nicknames he's been or to be given. "shouldn't it sound close enough to the original to be recognized as such? Or, should it not also match certain personality quirks? Like, wouldn't you call him something along the lines of.... BargeOfLies? Or... Lord-Mayor Loon? You see? Because they sound like his name, and one calls him a liar, and the other implies that he is insane."
--------------------
As Rexus admits his secret, Gregor merely looks him over with a single raised eyebrow, before giving an appreciative nod of how well it... worked?... that he couldn't even tell, even under scrutiny. It was when the man began to get emotional and start crying that Gregor grew uncomfortable with the emotional outburst.
----------------------
He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and flexes his shoulders when Laria begans to explain all her illicit contacts and activities. He acknowledges the situation that he's put himself in just by rebelling in the first place, and even understands that some cities or nations actually have flourishing economies due to certain aspects of the criminal underground. That doesn't mean he has to like or appreciate that he is now consorting with criminals to return his city to its rightful splendor before Barzillai's arrival.
All the same, the halfling woman is giving them safety and shelter, and the least they could do is check to see if her friend is okay. It's no different than a citizen asking the Dottari to look into a missing person or getting word of strange noises. "Miss?..." he lets the title hang, giving her time to correct him, "Longroad. I am ready and willing to investigate any unusual goings on within your basement, and check on your friend for you. I thank you for your generosity. Now, is there anything we should know about your basement? Is there indeed wasps present?"
After getting the box open and finding the items, Evander listens as Rexus talks about the papers. As he talks about it taking time, Evander says, "I might be able to assist. I don't speak Celestial or Strix, but I did learn how to make a concoction in my time at the Opera House that allows one to read and understand unknown languages. It was rather important sometimes for translating the opera to be performed into a language the performers could understand."
-----------------------
Evander listens to Rexus tell a bit of his life's story, then reaches out a comforting hand to pat the crying nobleman on the back. It's a bit awkward, as if Evander isn't particularly used to comforting others.
---------------------
He nods approvingly as Laria describes her work with the Bellflower Network. After all, ownership of sentient beings was wrong on so many levels, that he approved of such work. As she asks them to check it out, Evander says, "Given your assistance, I'd be happy to help you out with that. However, I have one question and one request first. The request is that it possibly wait until tomorrow to do so, so we can all rest and fully recover from our ordeals today. The question is about the textiles. Are taxes really so high on Varisian textiles that it's worth smuggling them?"
Feeling ill equiped to offer Rexus any guidance or assistance with what he's going through, Matiscio simply nods and lets it be since that's what Rexus seems to prefer for now. He also doesn't fully grasp the details behind the man's words, but there was already way too much on his plate as is.
--
"These tunnels seem important, if only so that you" and he looks at Laria, "and your companions have an emergency exit if needed. Sadly the need for such precautions have become every day reality so yes, I'm willing to help, but I back Evander's suggestion that we wait until tomorrow. I'm sore and aching all over and the Gods know that I need a bath.."
Didiana merely looked a little confused and a lot alarmed as Rexus recounted his troubled past.
They raised their boy as a girl? Why would they... Oh. Oh!
When the penny finally dropped, the armiger just looked a bit uncomfortable in front of the teary nobleman. Unsurprisingly, the member of an organization advocating stoicism and emotional detachment wasn't the best in these situations. It had been difficult enough with Gregor's confession yesterday, and he was her closest approximation of a friend. It wasn't that she was socially retarded; she just didn't deal well with gratitude especially, least of all when it felt unwarranted. But then, it was pitiable indeed when a man was reduced to tears simply because a group of strangers treated him as they would anyone else.
The red-headed woman leaned back and observed the ceiling as Rexus composed himself. It seemed the tactful thing to do. Chalk it up to stress; the man had been through a lot the last few days, what with the loss of two evidently very loving parents... Didiana's eyes shot up in remembrance. Perhaps there was some comfort the group could offer him. She reached into an inner pocket and looked to Evander and Gregor for confirmation before holding out her hand to the nobleman. In her palm lay the heavy Victocora signet ring.
"Re... Lord Victocora, we spoke amongst ourselves yesterday, after you left. While we all appreciate your dedication to the cause, being willing to give away your only inheritance for us to use, we agreed that we could not take what should be a memento of your parents. We think you should keep this."
Gregor nods in agreement with Didiana's gesture, but seems confused by both Evander and Matiscio's request. He looks over the two of them for signs of injury, "If she is concerned for her friend, and his possible disappearance, isn't time of the essence? Maybe he doesn't have one more day, and our disheveled and dirty states would be more fitting in searching a basement than after getting all cleaned up. If I am mistaken, and there are greater injuries I am unaware of, please speak up so that you can get the needed care."
Gilda offers a tattered kerchief as Rexus shares his childhood tale and loses his composure, it's current state possibly only slightly better than the cloak found earlier at the livery.
"Smugglin' textiles, eh?"
Gilda winks at Laria.
"Or's we talkin' about 'textiles'"
Once again Gilda holds up a pair of fingers as she says the word, indicating it should clearly be code for something as making such an effort to smuggle in a few rugs would be a surprise to even her.
"And this wasp's nest.. any idea how deep it goes? We can look now, or later, but as Do-"
Gilda catches herself for a moment, Gregor's eyes swooping to her like a hawk spotting a field mouse.
".. as Gregor Not-greg says, we're all banged up, and maybe ain't nothin' bad goin' on down there but a hungry zomb... uh, rug-smuggler."
Gilda leans back, smiling, testing out some words.
"Barge'o'lies... hmmm..."
Rexus looks surprised when Evander offers to help. “A concoction, you say? If it’s as useful as you make it sound, I’m a bit surprised Thrune didn’t keep you on for his own ends. I’m happy for any assistance you can provide.”
Rexus smiles appreciatively as Evander pats his back. Tears well up in the nobleman’s eyes once again as Didiana hands him his mother’s signet ring.
“Thank you. Thank you all,” Rexus says simply, cupping the ring in his hands. He gratefully takes Gilda’s offered kerchief.
As Gregor acknowledges his willingness to investigate the Coffeehouse’s basement, Laria says, “Thank you, Gregor. There’s nothing particularly exciting about it, sadly. I tried to clean up the place a bit when I first started using it. But given the constant foot traffic and unusually high variety of folks we get through here, it’s difficult to keep everything in order.
“You’ll want light sources, that’s for sure. The couple times I’ve tried peeking in there, it was dark as night. Other than that, I have no clue what you should expect. Hopefully just Nan, his textiles, and an explanation for those terrible noises."
Laria chuckles when Gregor mentions wasps. “No, no actual wasps. I hardly even think about the name anymore. A decade ago when I was knocking down walls and making the place serviceable I discovered a secret shrine left by worshippers of Calistria. There’s still a statue down there of the Goddess herself. It’s standing in a bit of water now, but it’s still recognizable as the savored sting.”
When Matiscio mentions the tunnels as an emergency exit, Laria says, “Unfortunately, we haven’t excavated nearly enough to use them as an exit. They work just fine as a hideout, though. As far as I know, no one in the Kintargan government is aware of their existence, even the good ones from before Thrune showed up.”
At Evander and Gilda’s mention of textiles, Laria smiles and says, “Well, Nan told me he was smuggling textiles, but smugglers have a way of exaggerating the truth… or just changing it entirely, if it suits them. Taxes are quite high, though, so it’s not entirely unbelievable."
At Evander, Matiscio, and Gilda’s suggestion of waiting till the next day to investigate and Gregor’s insistence that time could be of the essence, Laria says, “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to wait till tomorrow. If it is Nan eating the food I put down there, one more night’s not going to hurt. And if it’s not… well, I’d rather not think about that. Tomorrow morning will be okay. You folks have been through a lot. Probably best not to burn out right at the beginning of the rebellion.”
Turning to Didiana, Laria says, “Alright, let’s get that hot bath started for you.” The halfling calls one of her employees in and has him begin preparing a bath.
Looking at Lia, she says, “Let me know if you want help taking care of your clothes. It wouldn’t be a problem.”
To everyone, Laria says, “If any of you need a place to sleep, I’ve got enough human-sized beds upstairs for most of you. Just let me know. No shame in it, if so. I’m guessing we’ll be working pretty closely together for some time to come."
Standing to her feet, Laria gestures toward the door to her office. “All of you should get some rest. If you have anymore questions, I’ll be happy to address them tomorrow before you head down into the basement.”
Gregor just shrugs at the notion that the job need not be done today, "Well, Miss Longroad, if you are in no hurry for us to check up on him, than I would imagine neither are we." Looking to the others he offers, "If some of you feel you need to rest, I do not, and would be willing to sell off whatever items we decide not to keep or do whatever shopping is needed. Under the condition that it not something that requires your presence, such as being fitted for armor. I know, with an opportunity, I would like to look into adapting or replacing some of my equipment."
In response to Rexus's question about the concoction, Evander said, "It was something that some of the other copyists would buy from a fellow who made them over in Redroof. I was the only one who took the time to learn to make it myself, and as useful as it is, it's quite limited. The most I was ever able to make at a time was two, and they only last for a short while. Making them...takes something out of me. I don't know that it's necessarily magic, per se, but I'm limited in how many I can make. They only work for me, as well - I don't know how the man in Redroof made them work for others. The one time someone tried drinking mine, it didn't work and went completely inert. It is similar to the extract I drank under the livery to create that shield."
Evander nods. "I agree with the plan, but I think first we should figure out what some of this stuff is." Holding up on of the silver figurines, Evander looks at Rexus and asks, "You called these silver raven figurines of wondrous power. Have you seen the like before, and what do they do?"
Having been enjoying her coffee and pastries this whole time, Lia finally speaks up when Ms. Longroad offers to help her with her bloodied clothes. "I'd really appreciate it, Ms. Longroad."
Seeing that the group was likely to disperse for the day, Didiana decided to look over some of the more mundane items the group had found at the livery. Gregor's comment on updating one's equipment served as a reminder that it might be a good a idea to do so before they dispersed. She was not entirely surprised to find that both the leather armor and the drab cloak were enchanted.
"Oooooooh..."
The extended sigh slipped Didiana's lips involuntarily. It had been some time, years in fact, since she'd had a hot bath. The Order didn't approve of them. Austerity, including cold baths, built the necessary character in its recruits, was the reasoning. Stopped them from going soft. Perhaps there was some truth to it too, because Didiana felt muscles she didn't even know she'd been tensing loosening in the hot water. She blushed in the small tub. Enjoying herself here felt like betraying her fellow amigers in some small way. She tried putting it out of her mind. She was just following instructions. This had to be done to get rid of her condition; doctor's orders.
She tried occupying herself with Rexus's recent revelation. Whatever gender identity the man subscribed to, it was no business of hers. Didiana's ideal society, the one she strove towards through the Torrent, had room for everyone. Everyone; as long as they could play nice. The armiger leaned back in the tub. To her great frustration it seemed that the group's gracious host was somewhat rules-challenged. Laria Longroad was a criminal. The halfling had openly, almost proudly, admitted to bribery, forgery, smuggling, aiding & abetting and more, even beyond the Network. These were crimes ranging from Class I misdemeanors to outright felonies. It wasn't as if Didiana particularly disapproved of the Bellflower Network. Like most other Kintargo natives, she fully supported the equal rights of halflings, no matter what the laws of the nation stated. This was why she was a hellknight recruit, not a dottari; she recognized the fallibility of the law. She worked within Cheliax's law only to further propagate the hellknights' Law.
But that was exactly it; it wasn't about how she felt. As a hellknight in training, it was her duty to rid society of Laria's kind. Do away with this perfectly kind woman who had served them coffee and pastries. Whose warm bathtub she was currently enjoying despite herself.
Didiana smacked herself in the forehead, sending water flying. This was maddening! She didn't know what she was supposed to do. The hellknight allowed no compromise and Laria had to be dealt with but she was providing the rebellion with a potential base of operations which they sorely needed and yet the Measure & the Chain clearly stated that there were no exceptions to the Law but at this point she was in too deep-herself-and-according-to-hellknight-tenets-Barzillai-was-clearly-the-l arger-threat-or--was-that-just-her-own-faulty-interpretation-of-the-Law-and-was-her -rebelling-really-justamanifestationofhertaintedblood...?
Didiana submerged. For just a moment, she associated this with the established reckoning of the Torrent, simulated drowning, and her jumbled mind calmed. This couldn't go on. She needed to sort herself out. At this point, she wasn't sure if she could survive long enough for Barzillai's men to kill her.
The dripping armiger stepped out of the bathtub not long after, not being able to stand her own company anymore. She missed her reckonings right now. She missed their meditative purpose. Policing one's thoughts, exorcising unwanted thoughts, was so much harder without penance. She longed for the clarity of mind that followed a reckoning. Every Order had them but only the Torrent's version required a partner; a partner she could not possibly find within the Order due to the secrecy of the group's doings. It wasn't fair.
It was then, as she was looking for her clothes, that Didiana spied a long piece of cloth only haphazardly stuffed into her backpack. She pulled it free. It was the ragged strip she had cut to serve as a makeshift mask earlier. She observed it for a second. And then dipped it into the still warm water of the bathtub. She then wrung the fabric, leaving it hard and heavy with water. Which order was it that practiced self-flagellation? The Order of the Scourge? Didiana brought her arm backward as strongly as she could, lashing it towards her own back.
The satisfying crack of whip sounded in the room.
Rexus listens closely as Evander explains how the concoction works. After the investigator finishes, Rexus says, “Well, I can’t lie. I am disappointed that I won’t be able to use those... I believe you called them extracts? But at least you’re putting them to good use. If you want to take a look at these papers after you get some rest and check on Nan, I would be happy for any advice you can offer.”
When Evander asks how the figurines work, Rexus directs him here.
Laria takes Lia to the tailor the halfling spoke of, a tiefling named Hetamon Haace. The man is as courteous as Laria made him out to be. He has Lia and Laria wait in a private room while he sews up Lia’s clothes and washes them. When he returns them to Lia, they’re as good as new, if not better.
Didiana is able to identify the armor as +1 Leather armor. She’s unable to identify the cloak, but knows it is magical.
After Didiana indulges in some self-flagellation, each member of the party returns to their respective residences and get some much needed and much deserved sleep.
---------------------------------
Wealday, the 12th of Arodus, 4715 AR.
Laria greets the group as they return the next day. She makes casual conversation till there’s a minute where the Coffeehouse doesn’t have a patron. Then she quickly ushers the group into a pantry at the northeast side of the Coffeehouse.
Once inside, she opens a concealed trap door and leads the group down to a dry-goods cellar. This area is lit and contains numerous crates of cooking ingredients, sacks of coffee beans, and other supplies needed to maintain a thriving business.
Laria walks to the side of the room and opens a secret door even more carefully concealed than the one in the pantry. Beyond, only darkness can be seen.
“The Wasp Nest is on the other side of this door,” Laria says. “I’ll be upstairs if you need anything.”
With that, Laria climbs up the ladder to the pantry and gives the group a toothy grin before closing the trap door.
As Gilda stands (behind the others) and gazes into the darkness, she smiles at Didiana.
"Alright Red, time to light it up!"
With that, she waves her hand, having readied a new trick of her own as a silver coin in her hand sheds fairly bright illumination down the hall.
As Matiscio takes a few steps ahead to secure it, she makes some small talk with Didiana.
"How was the bath? You look... both rested and like you've gotten some exercise."
Gilda scans Didiana for signs of any tiny overlooked patrons alongside with any signs of Calistria's touch...
With the explanation of how the Ravens work, Gregor suggests, "Well, it would seem that these items are intended for hidden communication and the passing of messages. It appears only sensible that we, as the fledgling members of the rebirth of the Silver Ravens, each take one for just that purpose."
Gregor very graciously takes the invitation to stay at the coffehouse for free, not for the lack of funds, but for the feeling of being welcome as something other than a patron. After going out to do a little buying and selling, he returns to the proffered sleeping space to relax the way he knows best.
He starts with removing all of his equipment and laying it out carefully across the bed, then picking up each piece to clean, and polish it. First is his armor, by wiping away any of the blood and filth, then applying a light layer of oil to both protect and polish to a nice sheen. He then follows suit with his shield, ensuring that no gunk is stuck within any of the decorative etching on it. Next, he smooths out his uniform, dabs at any spots or stains to try and draw them out of the material, and folds it neatly to rest under the bed. Taking up his boots, he wipes the dirt from them, grabs his rag and proceeds to buff them back into a mirror shine. Lastly, he takes up his whetstone and sits down to soothe his nerves, letting the song of steel on stone allow his mind to contemplate the day's activities. He does not speak to anyone during his meditations, letting the work of a job well done be the muse he needs to find his center.
Once all of his equipment has been taken care of, he lies down at the position of attention, and sleeps more soundly than he had the night before. It is not a perfect sleep, but one of resignation to the circumstances that brought him to his current place. He is committing treason and consorting with criminals, knowingly, but it has become the lesser of two wrongs when the other is letting his beloved Kintargo degenerate into ruin.
Gregor rises early, and starts with the day's calisthenics, to give him energy for the day ahead and keep his body in fighting form. He dresses and dons his uniform, weapons, and armor methodically, ensuring that they all sit precisely as they should. He eats a bowl of boiled oats and a piece of fresh fruit, ensuring that the others have a good breakfast as well. It is the most important meal of the day, and gives him the energy he needs to be productive. Once all is prepared, he joins the others in the basement of the Long Roads Coffeehouse.
As Laria opens the door, he draws his bow, intending once more to focus on his particular skill with the weapon.
"Alright Red, time to light it up!"
"Yes, let's," Didiana smiled back as she lit up her own mace. She even managed to make the smirk look halfway-genuine, unwanted epithet be damned. In her own mind, 'Red' was akin to being named after a particularly hideous birth defect, such was her dislike for her own hair, but the armiger recognized that there was no way Gilda could know this. Unless she had severely misread her, Grabapple's nicknames were terms of endearment. Mostly.
"How was the bath? You look... both rested and like you've gotten some exercise."
Didiana blinked at Gilda in response to the older woman's scrutinizing look. What was with the inflections? Was Ms Grabapple insinuating something? Who knew, really. Didiana certainly didn't. The matron was eccentric to say the least and she had trouble reading her. It was probably nothing.
"It was... fine? Um... It was lovely. And my training regimen is classified under the Order."
"How are you yourself and... Sprinkles Too?" she added after a second, not wanting to seem standoffish. Well, no more than usual.
Each member of the party takes a silver raven figurine.
Didiana identifies the cloak to be a cloak of elvenkind.
Gilda looks over Didiana intensely and doesn’t see any sign of lice. She doesn’t notice anything else unusual about the armiger.
Gilda and Didiana light up a coin and mace, respectively, to shed light into the darkness of The Wasp Nest.
The group steps into a long, damp hallway. It opens to the southeast into a large reservoir of calm, dark water. A wooden pier extends twenty feet into the water, while another twenty feet out rises the top half of a statue of a beautiful elven woman. Based on everyone’s conversation with Laria, this is obviously the statue of Calistria that she referred to. A foul smell, like that of rotting meat, comes from somewhere near the pier. Two holes have been knocked into the northwest walls to provide access to chambers beyond.
Everyone except Gregor notice the partially eaten remains of someone wedged among the pier’s pilings at the northwesternmost edge, just under the lip of the stone floor. From a distance, it’s difficult to make out many details about the body. A closer inspection will be needed to try to identify it.
Lia alone notices something else. Beyond the partially eaten body, lurking just beneath the surface of the water, is an albino alligator.
With new, fresh clothes and a swanky new set of leathers, Lia looks quite happy to get moving on this next little venture.
"Eugh... was this place used as a dumping ground or something?" She looks around, her eyes abruptly stopping at the pier. "...and is that an alligator?"
She points it out to the others.
"Good Gods, it is.." says Matiscio under his breath, somehow afraid any wrong word could cause the beast to burst into motion. "Should we bait it out of the water and kill it? Maybe there's a more humane way that we could get rid of it? I have to admit, I'm not exactly blessed when it comes to dealing with animals.."
His goldfish lil' Pete, Pharasma rest his soul, could attest to that. Young Matiscio hadn't exactly shown great skill at taking care of him.
Gregor takes in the basement and the damp conditions, pondering how it couldn't be good for long term storage of most trade goods. Once he is directed toward the alligator, he keeps his bow up and drawn before him. He cocks his head at Matiscio's suggestion, "I could see what most of the intentions may have been towards the dogs, as they are a species known for it trainability, but surely you must recognize that a creature such as this alligator can only pose a threat. Shy of one of us being one with nature, that we can attain the companionship of a wild animal, the thing could surely bring harm to others if we chase away from here, or simply return at a later time and catch someone unsuspecting."
He looks over at the pier, and offers, "We could shoot it as much as possible until it decides to come on land, where we have the tactical advantage."
"...yeah." Lia just nods in agreement.
Can't believe I'm agreeing with him, but that's how things are.
An alligator? Heavens above, where does this water lead to exactly?
Didiana listened in on Matiscio's and Gregor's thoughts before sharing her own. She had to side with the ex-dottari, notwithstanding him clearly still not getting the whole dog issue despite claims to the contrary.
"Assuming that's Mr Comerivos down there, the beast is dangerous. If this is to be the seat of the rebellion, the alligator needs to go."
It really was that simple. This hideout would be little use for them if it came with giant predatory reptiles. She continued, "Watch yourselves. Alligators are known to have vicious bites and to not let go once they have first gotten hold of their prey. They tear apart anything caught in their jaws by spinning and thrashing madly."
Yes, having the beast come to them seemed advisable. And she thought she might have just the thing to draw it out. Her palm filled with an intangible orb of force, pulsing with soft white light in tandem with her own heartbeat. The missile should be familiar to the group by now. Being a spell blessed with infallible aim, Didiana was sure that it would hit its mark, even under the water.
"Just say the word."
Evander shows back up the next day with a silver dagger, as well as bolts for his new crossbow, some of them silver as well. When asked about it, he'll say, "Well, I thought if we were going to recreate the Silver Ravens, I should have something silver."
----------------------------------------
As they encounter the alligator, Evander says, "Agreed. Let's see what we can do."
He will draw out his hand crossbow and level it at the alligator.
Gilda squints.
"A crocodile? Again... I remember the time Lenny said he ran into a whole nest of these in the sewers under Market Street. Seemed like someone liked collectin' 'em or breedin 'em."
Sighing, Gilda reaches into a pocket of her oversized smock before pulling out a pinch of sand and tossing it ahead of her.
"Shhhh.. Lil' Gator... sleepy time."
Gilda kicks her heels, excited to see if the magic of Old Kintargo will take hold once again on a hostile animal adversary.
"C'mon Chompsy! Gilda needs a new pair of boots!"
The majority of the group agree that dealing with the alligator directly is the best course of action. Gilda starts off the festivities with an attempt to render the alligator helpless. Her spell is successful and she's one step closer to a new pair of boots, in a stylish white, no less.
With the alligator dead, the body can be closely examined. It is that of a man. The corpse only has on one boot which is on his left foot. The boot looks distinctive. The other boot is missing along with the man’s right foot.
The body looks like it has been dead and decomposing for about three days.
The areas roughly to the west and south have yet to be explored.
Evander looks over the body. "I don't know much about bodies. Could this be Nan?"
Lia just shrugs.
With one boot missing, and the one they got being so distinctive, Matiscio decides to peer out over the little 'lake' and a glimmer catches his eye. "Cover me, I think I see something .." and he's off, swimming over to the statue only to return with a whip and golden holy symbol of Calistria.
Gregor looks over the body, "Given the state of decay, it's tough to tell, but the whoever it is has been dead and rotting for about three days. Considering he was the one we came down to find, it is a safe assumption, but an assumption nonetheless. It would be better if we could find more evidence to support the theory."
Before the group has a chance to explore The Wasp Nest further, a loud screech sounds from the chamber across from the water. A few moments later, a lean creature about 5 feet tall that looks roughly akin to a humanoid crow steps out of the shadows. Its crimson eyes scan the party and it stretches out its clawed fingers before beginning to run toward the nearest member of the group.
This is a dire corby. It is a monstrous humanoid. Dire corbies are naturally evil. They have a pair of claw attacks. If they succeed at both attacks, they can then rend foes.
Dire corbies have a special leap attack. If they succeed at an acrobatics check when they charge, they can jump into the air and land next to their enemies then make a full attack against foes in reach. If they fail the check, they can still make one attack as normal for a charge. They have darkvision and speak Undercommon.
Rovagug's balls! flashes through Matiscio's mind as he lunges forward and draws his shield, readying himself to bear the brunt of the foul creature's assault.
Matiscio moves to counter the creature, drawing his shield as he goes. He lashes out at his foe, his fist connecting.
The creature swipes at Matiscio, trying to tear into him with both sets of its claws. Both attacks miss.
Between the reptilian predator and savage bird creature, Didina was at a loss as to what was going on at the hideout. But then, at the moment she didn't particularly care. Quelling the opposition was what she was trained for. If that could be done without resorting to force, all the better. But if the opponent invited violence, it was a peacekeeper's duty to accept that invitation and lay the conflict to rest. Quelling time.
Gilda winces, imagining the claws tearing Matiscio. She quickly focuses her gaze at the strange crowcreature, hoping to thwart its assault.
Knowing his companions are backing him up gives Matiscio the mental freedom to shift his focus from defense to offense. The brawler stabs and weaves away with his shield to create openings while unleashing a flurry of powerful kicks at the beast.
Gregor is baffled by the group's oft-shifting patterns in regards to enemies. "Guys, can we confirm that this creature is not Laria's friend? She gave no description, and considering all the illicit activities her friend conducts, it could be any manner of evil creature." As he speaks, he sheathes his sword and moves over to get an opening while drawing his bow.