Juliet sighs. "She hasn't steered us right yet, either. 'Get the Jewel of Great Worth.' Well, we got it. All that happened is we got a second job."
Eyeing the Harrow cards, Juliet continues. "Anyways, she said she's still weaving, so... I guess we give it more time. The lady's name is - was - Zellara. Harrow-reader. Once was, anyways."
"Lorick's question is a good one, and I'd like to hear the answers. How you two run afoul of Lamm? Me? Bad decisions. A whole run of 'em."
Tyenar is as confused (if not more) as he was before, but this time his eyes flash with glee as the mystery of the ghostly card reader gets more and more elaborate. Taking out his notebook, he starts scribbling, temporarily oblivious to his surroundings.
She is probably a ghost, but I can't be sure...aren't those things usually fixated on the past? This one seems way more sane and informed than that. And I wonder if she actually is as powerful as she say she is...this is so interesting! So exciting!
The sylph keeps taking notes on his notebook with giddiness, before he snaps back to the situation at hand and realizes the others have started talking again.
"No, I'm not. I just want to keep to myself, and having to work for Lamm is one of the last thing I wanted.." Tyenar says, after stopping for a moment to discern if Lorick or Juliet were trying to trick him.
"Lorick's question is a good one, and I'd like to hear the answers. How you two run afoul of Lamm? Me? Bad decisions. A whole run of 'em."
"I'd say bad decisions too, but that wouldn't be true. My decisions were weighted and well-reasoned: they just had...flawed execution." the Sylph says with a straight face, putting an hand on his chest, before picking back his pencil and gesturing at Juliet "That wasn't very informative, no? I'd say the same for you: you first, please."
They look slightly more trustworthy than I thought, but like the Hells I'm going to tell stuff about me before they do.
|
Still confused at what had occurred, Xenia again looks at the cards. Suddenly she realizes that the last inquiry was directed at her. Before she can respond, she hears Tyenar's answer. She thinks for a moment, examining the mysterious harrow deck as she does.
Lamm? That must be his name. I don't serve him. He is a sleaze that blackmailed my employer and has kidnapped my . . . my sister. I . . . um . . . you could say I am trying to free them from his yoke.
I got folks under Lamm's thumb myself Lorick reveals nodding at Xenia.
Juliet barks a laugh, a small smile on her lips. "Aye, flawed execution on my part, a few times as well. I tell you and not your notebook, Notebook. I was a drug addict, started selling small time to some friends in my circle. But I've got a last name carries some weight, so Lamm started using my last name to get f*$~ers like Ladzlo in places, close to people he otherwise couldn't. What they do from there, I dunno, but it can't be good."
"I should emphasize - that stays out of the notebook, or we got problems. Now, I showed you mine..."
Tyenar raises his hands and puts his notebook back into his pocket, complying to Juliet's request.
I can just remember what she said really. Let's hope that this whole thing on not being able to write down things becomes an habit: not like I'll have to tag along these guys for a lot of time, anyway.
"Lamm's got someone I know, too: Ander, just a little kid. He's "working" as one of his little Lamms now.." the investigator sighs "When I found that he was gone, I started looking on Lamm's businesses and any of the kid's relative for help (kid's an orphan). I was...a little careless, and Lamm found out about me: if I don't go around finding information for him, he'll toss Ander to his blasted alligator.". The Sylph grimaces "Looking into Ander's family didn't help, either: he's got only one living relative, and he's that Pesh-headed refuse that's an insult to grease itself, Ladzlo. I wouldn't be surprised if he sold his own brother to Lamm." he gestures to Juliet and the others "But it's not like I need to tell you that. So, here I am now: wrongfully accused and being questioned before a card-reading ghost. Wait...".
The Sylph pauses for a moment, thinking, then pulls out again his journal and starts flipping trough its pages.
Zhellara...a Varisian card reader, that for some reasons has an axe to grind against Lamm...Judging by how she appeared, she may have been dead for some time, but she probably had to have some powers in life to actually make all those Illusions they are talking about...
"Not a ghost, actually" pipes up Evelyn. She hadn't been paying much attention to the trading of stories. Only when summon mentioned "ghosts" did she decide to interject. "I'm not entirely certain what she is, just that she isn't a ghost. Frankly, I trust her more because of it. I had thought she was some sort of strange altruistic fortune teller or something but given that she's some manner of restless spirit makes more sense. Besides, if we're going to be taking shots at Lamm she's still our best shot."
"Does anyone object if I take stewardship of the cars?"
"No, but have you any experience with the dead? Believe me, my interest is not in the cards themselves. I only want the chance to examine them more thoroughly."
The cards are - surprisingly - magical, and register as such to anyone who is sensitive to those things.
It is late afternoon by the time you emerge from Zellara's. What will you do next?
Right, Tyenar, Xenia. Lorick, glad to be out of the dead building and back among the living and the mundane, nods at both at they step into the warm sunlight. Far as I'm concerned, you both are on the up and up. Dead Lady of the cards is why Evelyn, Juliet and I, got as far as we have. Going with the tide is the best option I can see to get back at the bastard Lamm and get out of his damn web. Guard Captain's going to have something for us to do Moonday.
"The deck is magical, Xenia. Please, let me examine it further."
|
|
Spellcraft:
Xenia nods in agreement.
Yup, necromancy mixed with illusion. An interesting combination, but not so much if it is a ghost making us believe what is not there.
Xenia is hesitant, but after considering it for a moment, hands the cards over to Evelyn, if with a small amount of trepidation.
"Uh, Necromancy and Illusion? Interesting..." Tyenar furiously scribbles notes about the subjet, and his brain registers only a few moments after that that Lorick was saying something.
"Uh? Oh, Moonday, yes, got it. I'll be there." the Sylph nods.
It's not like I have a choice...
"Interesting? Scary is what it is. Lady gets got, get us on Lamm, Vaen gets got, he gonna come visit us soon too? I'd rather not know how he's feeling about things."
"Annnnnnyyyyways, I'm going to bug out. Had enough hocus pocus and the kid's on talking to the dead duty, so..."
Juliet shrugs, half an apology. But hanging outside of a dead Moth's house, no a ghost Moth's house, there's gotta be better things she could be doing with her time. Gotta be...
"Moonday."
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LORICK
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The Jie store has slightly more signs of life (and less boarded-up) than last time you visited, but it still has that faintly timeless quality to it; even the dust motes seem to hang, undisturbed, in the air for longer than they do elsewhere.
The youth, Bai-dao, gives you a bow as you enter, calling to his aunt and uncle in Tian; they emerge briefly from the back of the shop, giving you a brief once-over, before shuffling back out of sight.
You exchange whatever pleasantries - and coin - you have in mind, before leaving for home.
Entering the house, there's a noisy clattering coming from the kitchen: Sia is - angrily - chopping something up for supper. She gives you a pointed look as you arrive, before transferring it to Sergeant Soldado, who is sitting calmly at the table; obviously waiting for you. He has - somehow - managed to wheedle a cup of hot chai from Sia, which (however grudgingly) has to be admired as an achievement - in this sort of mood, she's best left well alone.
Soldado turns in his chair to face you, hands wrapped around the hot mug. "Sorry to intrude. Thought we should probably catch up. Have a seat."
Sia's look focuses on you, its meaning clear: make him go! NOW.
Relationships, obligations, networks of tangled loyalties; maybe Miyoto was on to something in saying the path of wisdom is best walked alone...
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JULIET
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Crazy day, not yet over. The door to your apartment is ajar, off the latch; inside you hear the sound of two murmured voices. The first is easy to identify - Tybalt; the second is ... Elrick?!
As you walk in, it's clear that they're deeply immersed in their game of pocque (Alkenstar hold 'em, by the look of it) and your arrival takes a few moments to register. Elrick's the first to blink "Oh. Hello. I dropped by on the off-chance you were in, and your... flatmate ... invited me to wait. We were just killing time." He smiles at you, a grin made somewhat more confident by the fact that he's clearly more than held his own, judging by the cash on his side of your rickety table. Given that you know for a fact that Tybalt cheats at everything, Elrick's win shows a side to him you perhaps hadn't previously seen.
Tybalt leans back in his chair, a slightly sour look on his elfin features. "Well. I should be going, leave you to it. Nice to see you, Jules." As he gets up, he briefly turns to face you, his thoughts clear from his expression - and his disbelieving grin - A Chel? You're f%$*ing a With a brief shake of his head, he vaults out the window, his favourite way of leaving your place.
Elrick deposits his winnings in his belt pouch, before looking up at you quizzically. "Interesting chap, that; says he's your brother?"
As if realising that he may be prying into something you might not want to discuss, he quickly shakes his head and changes the subject. "I've sent Ruprecht out for some food; he should be back shortly. Hungry?"
****
Store
****
Lorick bows back and tells the young man what he needs. Stores like these were usually catch all apothecaries he knew and after the last few days he really wanted to be prepared for whatever else might come at them.
One anti toxin
One anti plague
One CLW
please
Things seem to be getting a bit better, yeah? he asks more concerned about how the family was doing than the items themselves.
****
Store
****
Seeing two parts of his world that he had very deliberately kept separate collide gives Lorick such a bizarre combination of a chill and a headache that he wonders momentarily which one of the potions he just bought he needs to drink to keep his head from imploding; probably all three he decides.
As he waits for the disorientation to subside he gives Soldado a glare. Window or stairs? You're leaving by one or the other real soon and I don't particularly care which one. he states flatly at the Sargent.
------------
Juliet
------------
Grimacing as the two most important men in her life seem to be bonding, Juliet shoots her brother a well-known look as he dives out the window. Don't!
But then Ty's gone, and that's that. Conversation for another day then.
Shimmying out of her azure cloak, Juliet leaves it on the floor, and slides herself into Ty's vacated chair. "Brother. Yep." Nodding to the pile of coin, the singer continues. "He'll cheat you out of everything he can you know. Not that it seems to matter. Pretty good player, then?"
And then her paramour mentions food and Juliet is pretty sure Elrick can hear her stomach grumbling. When was the last time she'd eaten? Anyways, it didn't matter. Truth was, Juliet was always ravenous.
"I'd love some!" A fleeting bit of doubt crosses Juliet's mind, a frown crossing the singer's lips. Just what was Elrick doing here in this mediocre block of a mediocre neighborhood, in her mediocre apartment, anyways? "What's the shinney? Why you and your man slumming?"
Evelyn excuses herself from the group. To Xenia she lies through her teeth, saying that she needed more time to examine the cards. With the remainder of the day she returns to the Pharasman temple and checks up on Jespara. Seeing her would help Evelyn stay on track.
Upon returning home she sets to work. She knew the necromancers name: Rolth, but little more. If she were to be hunting him there was more she'd need to know. She isolates herself in her home in the Gray, becoming absorbed in esoteric rights and seeking questions from answers given by the unquiet dead.
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LORICK
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****
Store
****
They have all the things you're looking for in stock, although Bai-dao gives you a quizzical look at your purchases. "Better? You tell me. At least nobody's trying to smash our windows any more; I see more Guard back on routine patrols; what you preparing for, buying those? You think things are better?"
****
Home
****
Soldado doesn't move an inch at your ultimatum, his hands remaining cupped around his mug of chai. He smiles, easily, his Varisian features creasing up. "I had my first threat of violence 'bout 30 seconds into joining the Guard - from another Guardsman who didn't think 'those thieving Moths' had any place in uniform." His smile remains, although slightly fixed. "I'll be going out the door at my own choosing, thank you. Now, sit or stand, as you like, but I don't think your ... other half needs to be in this conversation."
Sia turns with a hiss of barely-restrained fury (still holding a chopping knife, you notice); but the scene freezes - at least temporarily - into immobility when Soldado releases the mug with one hand (holding it out palm upward, as if calling a truce), uttering a single word:
"Miyoto."
Sia holds - for the moment - looking at you.
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JULIET
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"He'll cheat you out of everything he can you know. Not that it seems to matter. Pretty good player, then?"
Sitting opposite you, Elrick gives a wry grin, pouring you a glass of wine from the bottle that he clearly brought with him. It looks far too expensive to be something you would keep in. "I'm damned sure I wouldn't want to fight your brother - looks like he grew up in the School of Hard Knocks - but if you really want to be an expert in the arts of cheating, lying, and reading other people, there's no better training than growing up on the diplomatic circuit."
He raises an eyebrow. "And I'm not exactly 'slumming it' - this is North Point; it may not be The Heights, but it's hardly Old Korvosa!" He stands, in one fluid movement, and moves to the window, looking out. "As it happens, I sent Ruprecht to The Posh and Turtle, which is just round the corner from here - again, not exactly paupers' fare..."
He continues talking, approaching from behind you, his hands reaching over the back of your chair and massaging your shoulders. He does a pretty good job of it. "And I came to see you. Bloody Hell, your shoulders are tense! I'm going to break a thumb on these knots... You're one of the few - the very, very few, I might add - in my life who doesn't seem to have an obvious agenda; who doesn't clearly want something from me;" you can hear the smile in his voice "-beyond the obvious, I hope..."
He brings his lips close to your ear. "Service at the P&T takes forever; we have plenty of time in hand before Ruprecht returns." Coincidentally or otherwise, this movement allows his hands to move around and down, deftly playing with (and undoing) the top few buttons of your blouse.
****
Store
****
Yeah things seem to be settling back to the way they were. I guess that's better. I've just been hit by a lot of stuff you would not believe and I figured it'd be nice to be prepared for it
****
Home
****
Lorick deflates a bit when Soldado drops his bombshell. How the hell did the Guardsman even know about his missing mentor?
Hells and Abyss Soldado why don't you just leave me a message at the bloody fort. I'm there more often than I am anywhere else nowadays. Lorick says in a tone that's either a grumble or something whine.
Sia can stay. It's her place anyway. I've been keeping my side activities away from her but she might as well know everything. Iro preserve me. But be quick. You're not supposed to be here but Miyoto is... Important
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EVELYN
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Jepsara is delighted to see you. Her eyes glowing with hero-worship, she asks about what you've been up to, where you live - all of which questions you are able to deflect with customary ease. Her more enigmatic older sister, Sura, hovers in and around your discussion; her eyes and ears don't miss much, but you're pretty sure you haven't given anything away that you might not want to.
Eventually, Jepsara is reluctantly called away to other duties: the cathedral is busier than previously, since the riots ended and the other acolytes have returned.
Returning to your own quiet home, you ensure security before beginning the familiar rituals.
Normally, these rites have a certain comfort; the security of the familiar.
Not this time.
Candles go out almost as soon as they are lit, matches splinter in your hand, inkwells are mysteriously dry, pens blot, the paper smudges.
Even the cards used for prognostication seem to twist away, writhing in your hands, as if reluctant to take part...
Eventually, the ritual is over. You gather the papers together and begin the difficult task of trying to unravel what the unquiet dead are willing to impart to you on the subject of Rolth.
The prognostication is a complete failure; to add injury to insult, the cards give you a paper cut.
After several days' attempts, you are able to do no more than determine his morality .
__________________
TYENAR
__________________
After the difficulties of the day, a very pleasant surprise awaits you on the rooftops where you've gone to do some thinking: Anders has temporarily absconded from his duties (for which he'll no doubt be punished later) and has come to spend some time in your company. He has brought a friend with him, a slightly older boy, who regards you warily at first - but it's clear that Anders trusts you, and the fact that you knew Vaenathis (who this boy calls "Half-ears") works in your favour as well.
Allowing himself to relax a fraction, he introduces himself as Timmor. "I'm the unofficial resistance in the Lamms. It's clear no chissing grownup's going to take an interest, so we have to help ourselves. Had hopes that Half-ears might..." He breaks off and makes a show of getting something out of his eye, wiping his nose in the process. "Stupid bugs."
The two kids are more than happy to be distracted with talk of Blackjack, and have heard about his two recent heists: "Broke into Carowyn Manor! Can you chissing believe it? Guy must have stones of platinum..."
Fewer details are known about his other heist, but the two boys swear up and down they've both heard it has to do with a theft from the Arkonas, a noble family who essentially own Old Korvosa.
Carowyns
The Carowyns are old money - older even than the Arabasti line of the late, unlamented king. Indeed, a Carowyn has sat on the throne not that long ago. They are known to relish the limelight.
Arkonas
Everyone knows who the Arkonas are, but almost nobody knows who the Arkonas actually are: they're ferociously private.
Carowyns
The Carowyns are old money - older even than the Arabasti line of the late, unlamented king. Indeed, a Carowyn has sat on the throne not that long ago. They are known to relish the limelight.
Regardless of the circumstance — contributing thousands of gp to the upcoming season at the Kendall Amphitheater, reserving box seats at the Marbledome, or hosting galas at their South Shore estate — no scene is too garish for the aging nobles to steal.
Arkonas
Everyone knows who the Arkonas are, but almost nobody knows who the Arkonas actually are: they're ferociously private.
It's rumoured that they made a fortune in trading with Vudra, but it is said that some sort of misfortune came back with them - although it doesn't look like they've been terribly unfortunate... they own most of Old Korvosa, and have their fingers in almost every pie, legitimate or otherwise.
Carowyns
The Carowyns are old money - older even than the Arabasti line of the late, unlamented king. Indeed, a Carowyn has sat on the throne not that long ago. They are known to relish the limelight.
Regardless of the circumstance — contributing thousands of gp to the upcoming season at the Kendall Amphitheater, reserving box seats at the Marbledome, or hosting galas at their South Shore estate — no scene is too garish for the aging nobles to steal.
Ausio Carowyn, the husband, sits by right on the Council of Nobles that advises the crown. Many of the decisions that get passed into law have his stamp on them - invariably favouring noble rights and privileges, with little to no thought given to the commoners. Olauren, his wife, tends to set the fashions for the season simply by her influence: she sits on many charitable committees and is a great patron of the arts, so anyone wishing to seek her favour (read: financial support) tends to follow her whims in fashion.
Arkonas
Everyone knows who the Arkonas are, but almost nobody knows who the Arkonas actually are: they're ferociously private.
It's rumoured that they made a fortune in trading with Vudra, but it is said that some sort of misfortune came back with them - although it doesn't look like they've been terribly unfortunate... they own most of Old Korvosa, and have their fingers in almost every pie, legitimate or otherwise.
Persistent - but unsubstatiated - rumour says that they run the Cerulean Society, Korvosa's (unofficial) thieves' guild; but nothing has ever been proven one way or the other.
Evelyn frowns at the results and sets them aside. It would probably have been easier to fall on traditional means on gathering information on Roth. Spirits had a tended towards the dramatic which coincidentally made them incredibly unhelpful. She had already known that Roth was dangerous - he had turned a Shaonti warrior into a jigsaw puzzle, after all. The rest was gibberish, but could be something to work from if she was lucky. She made note of the "Pale Queen", "Black-Sailed Plague", "Veil of Blood", "Vorel's Scion". At this point she was starting to consider other avenues, but the reality was that as a recluse and had virtually no experience navigating social circles. She knew people that did, of course. There was Lamm who could probably track down anyone he wanted if they caught his attention but going to him for help was obviously out of the question. There was also the new girl, Tyenar, who was always scribbling away in her notebook. She'd be a good start but frankly Evelyn still didn't know her well enough.
Exhausted Evelyn decides to turn in. She'd need to be ready to return to work on Moonday.
Begrudgingly, Juliet had to admit to herself that the ambassador's son had a point; her neighborhood wasn't anything like Old Korvosa. It was, actually, just the type of 'hood some rich kid would come into, drink at a local joint, revel in the local 'color,' and most likely make it home the next day with little more than the clap.
Not that Juliet was going to give this rich kid the clap. She hoped. Arching her back, she pushed her ample rump into Elrick, sighing. He did give a good rub. "Yeah, I got like a hundred problems, gives me lots of knots for you to work on."
Grabbing Elrick's wrist, Juliet led him towards the bed. Truthfully, he had her at Posh and Turtle.
---------------
After, Juliet runs a finger along Elrick's jaw, marveling at just how pretty the ambassador's son was. Money begets beauty, she thinks idly, before her mind turns to more ugly thoughts. Thoughts about using the ambassador's son, that she really did want something else from him. But at least she'd be honest about that. Sighing, she closes her eyes and lets it go. "You heard of Gaedren Lamm?" The singer's face scrunches up, she runs the back of her hand over her eyes. "He owns me. More than anyone else ever can."
The implication hangs heavy in the air.
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LORICK
__________________
Sia can stay. It's her place anyway. I've been keeping my side activities away from her but she might as well know everything.
Sia's voice goes up an octave. It isn't immediately clear what she's unhappier about: that you're letting Soldado stay when she wants him gone, or your admission that you've been keeping things from her.
Apparently lost for words, she splutters for a couple of seconds before shooting you a genuine, honest-to-goodness, thousand-watt, no-sex-for-the-rest-of-the-year glare and storming out of the kitchen. She clomps up the stairs, heavily, before slamming the bedroom door.
It's the quiet sulking afterwards that's the loudest, though. Nobody can sulk quite as loudly as Sia when the mood takes her.
Soldado does his best not to make any comment, either out loud or in his body language. "I'll keep this quick as I can. Didn't approach you at the Citadel as I didn't think you'd want Kroft knowing that I know you; might prompt questions you wouldn't want her asking. And no, for now she doesn't know of your... affiliations. Far as she's concerned you came recommended by Her Majesty and that's that. Oh, she'd have found out under normal circumstances, two seconds flat, but that's the point: no normal circs here."
He sighs, heavily. "First thing most of the rioters did, was go after anyone suspected of informing for the Guard. Tore our networks to shreds, most of them still haven't come out of hiding - the ones that survived. Anyway, what I'm saying is Kroft doesn't know about your connection to Lamm, and she won't hear it from me long as I think you're on the level about trying to get out."
There is a pause - a very short one - while he draws breath and lets you take in what you've heard. "Which is what brings me here. Captain Somelen kept a notebook of all his people, what they knew, how to find 'em. Didn't tell a soul about it, found it when I was going through his things. Wrote it in code, mainly Varisian - which I'd no idea he even know how to speak! Taken me over a week to decipher it and I'm still not there. Anyway, Lamm has a hold over you, it says - this guy Miyoto? Some sort of mentor? Not my business," he says hastily, looking at your face.
"The point is, Lamm doesn't own many places outside Eel's End - certainly not where he could stash someone for that long. I'm running them down, but it'll take some time - don't want to get the alarm raised, after all. I'll let you know once I find out."
There is a significant pause. "Once you've got no reason to serve Lamm, I guess we'll see where your loyalties really lie, won't we? We all will. Anyway, I'll leave you with that - and with her upstairs."
With that, he finishes the last of his chai, carefully puts the mug down, and gets up, ready to take his leave.
__________________
JULIET
__________________
"You heard of Gaedren Lamm?" The singer's face scrunches up, she runs the back of her hand over her eyes. "He owns me. More than anyone else ever can."
Elrick looks at you with concern. "Are you - are you crying?" Unsure of exactly what to do, he wraps his arms round you and draws you into his embrace. He holds you for a long while without speaking, evidently gathering his thoughts.
"OK. Sh, no, don't talk, listen. The truth is, we're all owned by somebody. For example: you think your new queen can do just what she pleases? Re-think that assumption. On the one hand, there's the nobles, jealous of their privileges and customs. They're going to be looking for something from her. Then, there's the Church, the Hellknights, the Guard... you get the idea. If she plans on remaining queen, she will have to make some concessions to them - or at least, ally with enough of them to protect her against the others."
"The real truth is, none of us is "free" - there's no such thing. Just as well, too - you want to see real "freedom" in action, take a trip up to what's left of Sarkoris, gaze into the Worldwound. There's your freedom - and you can keep it there, as far as I'm concerned."
He frowns. "I don't know this Lamm chap, but it doesn't matter. My point is that, assuming you get free of him, then somebody else will own you. That's just the way it is - everybody serves somebody. I serve... well, that's not important, this is about you." He runs a hand through your hair carefully - tenderly, even. It's a marked contrast to the harshness of the philosophy he's espousing.
"What I think you mean is that you're currently owned by somebody whom you would rather not be owned by, is that correct? In which case, you need to find somebody more powerful, somebody who doesn't need to worry about Lamm, somebody whom you can persuade to be your new owner." He gives a self-deprecating smile. "I wouldn't normally put it as crudely as this - but it strikes me that you're in a not inconsiderable amount of distress, and I thought putting it in simple terms might be more helpful."
He glances dubiously at your expression, before untangling himself from you and getting up, still naked, and peering into the living room. "Excellent - our dinner has arrived!" And indeed, the tantalising smell of hot food wafts through the bedroom doorway: it's evident that his manservant has returned and set up dinner for the two of you in the interim. (Elrick is of course far too well-bred to be concerned about servants and what they may or may not have heard.) "Don't get up - I'll bring you dinner in bed; it's the least I can do after going on at you like an Asmodean Advocate: 'have you heard the Bad News about our Lord and Slaver?'" He mimics the faux-concerned tones of the zealot almost perfectly, and smiles at you: "I'm usually more sophisticated than that, I promise... Here. Food from the P&T has magical powers: it's guaranteed to take away your troubles - at least for this evening. And what it doesn't assuage, I will do my best to dispel."
***
Home
***
Lorick glares at Soldado, blaming the Sargent, quite rightly, for pissing off Sia to an unholy degree.
I swear Soldado, your old boss knew how to be discreet as well being a nosy bastard. The first time we met was when you showed up at one of Somelen's drops, Pharasma preserve that poor git. Use one of them next time. If you weren't helping me out with the old man I really would have thrown you down the stairs. Now get out and don't come back and... thanks.
With Soldado gone Lorick takes a deep breath and holds it. Squaring his shoulders he tries to center himself in that moment of calm before walking up the stairs to meet the storm.
He knocks on the door. Sia?
Tyenar lights up when he sees Anders, even if he spends the next minute in a mutually staring warily at Timmor, before their mutual acquaintances make Tyenar relax a little.
"Lamm has been in business for a long time: he's going to f~~~ up sooner or later. Or someone makes him f#!$ up." Tyenar says grimly "Some people in the Watch just don't want to mess with him, but even those that want can't because he's technically in the clear. Finding a technicality and managing to get the Watch's help could theoretically work, but..."
It's no one ever asked them. Hhhhmmm...Kroft's "special agents" I have to tag along with said they want to take down Lamm, too. Maybe they could ask her for help?
Once the conversation takes a lighter turn talking about Blackjack, Tyenar grows almost as childishly excited as the two kids.
"Platinum stones are the least thing he got! To get in and out of there he either used serious magic or he's just that good: Caerwyn Manor could be a bloody fortress for how much guards it has around, and if what Blackjack did in the past is any indications, this is just the start."
__________________
LORICK
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I swear Soldado, your old boss knew how to be discreet as well being a nosy bastard. The first time we met was when you showed up at one of Somelen's drops, Pharasma preserve that poor git. Use one of them next time.
Soldado looks at you for a moment, with that Sczarni gambler's expression, the one that gives nothing away. "You think that didn't occur to me? Unfortunately, the one detail the old man didn't put in that journal was the means of contact. Last time, you'd set the drop already - I was just sent at the last minute. You want to tell me what the signal is, don't be shy about it."
With Soldado gone Lorick takes a deep breath and holds it. Squaring his shoulders he tries to center himself in that moment of calm before walking up the stairs to meet the storm.
He knocks on the door. Sia?
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Silence.
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More silence.
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Long silence. Then:
"'S your place too, you know. Don't have to knock." You can almost hear the eyeroll in her tone.
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TYENAR
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Timmor looks scornful as you talk about how the Guard may or may not assist you. "Face it, Fairyfoot - ain't no help coming from outside. You wanna take Lamm down? Gonna have to rely on the insiders. Sooner you accept that, sooner we can make a start." He speaks confidently; Anders is a little more wary, judging by his face, but doesn't say anything to gainsay the older boy.
Tyenar sinks in his shoulders "You got any idea where to start, then? Those like us that are under Lamm's thumb are the first were we should look for help, but trying to get someone from outside to give an hand isn't a bad idea."
Lorick opens the door and cautiously enters Yeah? So I'm not going to get my backside kicked all the way back to the hole next to the ducks? he says before sighing heavily You know I hate pissing you off
Juliet buries her head and folds herself into Elrick's embrace, and listens, and as she does so, one word keeps coming back to mind.
Idiot.
More likely, he's just keeping her at arm's distance, but there she was, essentially saying, hey, get Lamm off my back, and I'm yours, and the ambassador's son doesn't even acknowledge it.
Idiot.
Pushing herself out of his arms, Juliet sits up, still listening as he monologues, one eyebrow cocked in question, the tears all dried up. Truth was, near as she figured, he was wrong. Not everyone is owned by anyone else. Of course, an Asmodean would never admit it. The Queen may be constrained, but she's not owned. And neither was Lamm. That guy was about the most un-owned bastard in town. He was too slippery to own, like the namesake Eel of his base of operations.
A quick exhalation, and Juliet realizes she's glad he didn't take her up on her offer. Nope, she was gonna get free, and once Lamm was fed to whatever was in his damn pit, no one was gonna own her. No one. Not ever again. She just had to be bigger. And tougher. And most importantly, slippier.
Thanks for the moment of clarity, idiot.
Smiling, Juliet sits up, and runs her hand under her nose, one last sniffle. "You know, you can be awful sweet for a devil worshipper. But then, all the tricksy ones are, right? Thanks for dinner; I can say that you're absolutely right about Posh & Turtle's healing properties. I do live close by, after all! Now, let's eat, sweetness!"
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TYENAR
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Timmor looks smug: "Way ahead of you, Fairyfoot. Told Half-ears 'bout a week ago that these riots had got us Lambs to finkin' - this unrest puts your mind to work, and we ain't putting up with much more of Lamm's crap; I been listenin' in on his other mob, the grownups... 'bout half of 'em is in it for fun an' pay, but there's nearly half like you, wantin' out but dunno how to do it; you ever decide to grow some and stand up to 'im, you might have more help than you reckoned."
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LORICK
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You know I hate pissing you off
Sia's eyes blaze with hot fury and hurt as she looks at you. "DO I?! Seems to me there's a lot I don't know, cos you ain't told me. ME! You bin keeping things from ME!!!! That you're happy to spill to a f$%&^&* Guard! So you tell me: WHAT do I know about you, Lorick? Tell me, please, I'm dying to know!"
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JULIET
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The ambassador's son may be an idiot (in Juliet's estimation anyway), but he is - as he said - not a fool; at least when it comes to reading people.
He gives you a rueful smile; "I said the wrong thing, didn't I. You were getting your courage together to offer me a difficult, personal, truth - and I ... responded poorly." Asmodeans don't - on the whole - do apologies, but this is (to a first approximation) an admission along those lines.
He breathes out, a long sigh.
"Hey ho. Better to be damned a Gelugon than a Lemure. Here is a truth of my own." He reaches out a hand, placing it on the bare skin over your heart (to a first approximation). "I want - very much - to help you; but my power to do so is... pretty much nonexistent. I have some influence with the local nobility, and some wealth - if it were a matter of paying him off, or finding you a patron, I could do that. And I would do it, gladly. But diplomats' sons can't just go around confronting local crime lords - it would cause a major diplomatic incident. And, honestly, my father dislikes this city enough as it is - he's almost at the point of advising Queen Abrogail to break off relations until Korvosa can get its s~** together! Please don't tell anyone that, by the way."
He swallows, hard. Admissions of powerlessness do not come easily to anyone; least of all to young men accustomed to wielding power.
He gives you a pained look. "Are you going to end it, now you know I can't help you? Because I thought... hoped..." He falls silent. Some truths are difficult to admit even to oneself.
Juliet listens, the smile fading from her lips, her face stony. Gradually, her posture loosens, she leans back against the wall that serves as her headboard. "End it? No, sweetness, you're the best thing in my life right now." She doesn't vocalize the rest of her thoughts. Which isn't saying much.
Slipping out of bed, the singer looks for her robe. Elrick didn't seem to think much of his manservant, but the thing about servants is, they see and hear most everything for just that reason.
"Let's eat, yeah? I'm famished. And no worries, you told me exactly what I needed to hear."
"That much people?" Tyenar mutters, without adding anything else. Until now the thought of actually taking down the whole of Lamm's operations had floated around the Sylph's mind, but he thought he would have just found a way to get Ander out and be done with it: of course, that flew off the window when Tyenar, too, got caught.
I didn't think I'd need the help of other people...I sure don't want to, but maybe that's the only option I've got. Maybe if those three Kroft's agents turn out to be trustworthy, maybe...
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Lorick stays clam at Sia's outburst of fury. They've fought before.
You know I love you and I'd do anything for you. You know I want to free Miyoto and you know I hate Lamm. he says simply holding his hands out in a placating gesture.
Then he runs his hands through his hair as he gets to the part where he wasn't truthful to Sia. Hells Sia, you remember the old lady at the foot of Wave Street that used to let us share her scraps sometimes? She kept doing that for other kids and a little while ago I overheard that rat bastard Ladzlo was going to 'pay her a visit' and teach her a lesson for making it harder for him to recruit street children into the Little Lamms. Lorick's lips tighten and he squints as the memory comes back reminding him of his feelings of confusion and rage and, most of all, shame at his impotence. Devils and demons take me both I couldn't do anything to stop him directly Sia, Lamm would've made me watch him have Miyoto killed before crippling me and tossing me onto the streets or something. You know how he is. I was.. desperate. Lorick sighs, a big rumbling sound. You remember that Guardsman near the Old Docks? The one who wasn't as big a prick as the others?... I tipped him off and he increased the patrols around where she was for a bit.. was enough to scare Ladzlo off. Every since then I been tipping him off every once in a while. Not much mind. Just when someone who really didn't deserve it was targeted... anyway the old captain died in the riots and this new git's taken over. I swear Sia if he hadn't dropped Miyoto's name I woulda thrown him out. Lorick shurgs, a gesture of helplessness. It was safer for you not to know what I was doing sos I just didn't... bring it up. You want to know everything that's been happening lately. Just ask me and I'll tell.
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LORICK
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Sia looks utterly nonplussed. "Wh-what? Lor, did the streets teach you nothing? It's dog-eat-dog out there. Sure, I remember the old lady, and sure, I'm glad of her help, but that was then. Look at what. we. have. now." She speaks very slowly and clearly, making sure that her point gets across. With a gesture, her arm sweeps out, taking in the room, the house, her fine new clothes, everything.
"An' you 'hate' Lamm? Gods, I'm not fond of him, what he's made me do, but... What's the alternative, Lor? You gonna get rid of him?" She looks at you, pityingly. "I've seen those dreams, monk of mine - seen 'em in the fighting pits, the old drunks convinced they can knock off the champ if they just get in one good hit - an' guess what? They never do!"
Her fury has calmed, somewhat, as it always does - Sia's tempestuous, but her moods can change fast; you just need to weather the storm. Getting off the bed, she walks up to you, grasps your wrists in her small hands. "Lorick Dreck, your heart is bigger than your brain and I love you for it. I'm yours, an' I have been since ... well, since forever, I guess. Don't be stupid, now, OK? Don't throw that away on some dream... An' suppose you do get rid of Lamm, what then? You think we get to keep all this?"
She sighs, and shakes her head at your idealism. "Face it, Lor, Lamm's been good to us. Servin' him has got us all this. What're we gonna do if he goes down? I ain't goin' back to the streets - an' neither of us has got skills to earn honest money. Real money, I mean. Sure, the Guard might need some muscle right now; but what about next week? Six months from now? Think they're gonna give you the time of day? Throw you in jail to rot, more like, they find out what you done..."
Still holding your wrists, she steps in and wraps your arms about her waist. "Please, Lor. You can't hang with the Guard an' work for Lamm. He'll find out - an' when he does, I'll go too." She shudders. "I don't wanna be fed to that thing in his pit." A tear runs down her cheek. "Lorick, I'm begging you - you said it yourself, the nice captain's gone now, if this new guy's such a git, why have anything to do with him? Give it up now and no one'll ever know. Lamm's not gonna do anything to Miyoto long as he thinks you're loyal - so be loyal!"
She runs the back of her hand across her eyes. "Trust me, like you always have - I'll see you right..."
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Sabina Merrin watches with mixed emotions as Queen Ileosa personally interrogates the luckless Palace guardsman: approval that her Queen, unlike so many nobles of her acquaintance, is not worried about getting her hands dirty; and an embarrassment (mixed with fury) that the guard did not divulge the news to her earlier. Merrin prides herself on her service to the Queen - it should have been she who brought this information, rather than Her Majesty having to wring it out herself.
The Queen seems almost to know this as she approaches Merrin, wiping blood-stained hands on a piece of rag cloth; a finger reaches out, tracing the line of the pale scar on Merrin's right cheek. "Never mind, my dear one - you have many other uses, you know... You're just a bit too soft with your men, is all." It is a murmur that only Merrin can here, and she flushes at the words.
Turning, the Queen faces the other guardsmen in the room. "You heard your companion! You heard him tell how this - this young painter, this harlot, poisoned your beloved king! Alert the Hellknights! Tell them that regicide has been committed - and tell them to bring me this so-called artist, this heartless assassin who killed by beloved husband!" It is a ringing cry, a heartfelt call for justice; the officers present nod solemnly and salute their ruler: "It shall be done, Your Majesty!"
They file out, leaving Sabina Merrin, the Queen, and the still-breathing captive. Ileosa frowns in thought: "No doubt the Hellknights will charge me yet again for their services - I am tired of paying them with money better spent on improving my city! And now I find I cannot rely even on my own palace guardsmen..." She looks so sorrowful, so lost, that Merrin cannot help but wrap her arms around her. "I am loyal, My Queen, to death itself and beyond."
It is dark outside, the torches in the room are unlit, the only light comes from the dull glow of a brazier - it would be impossible to say which of them began the kiss.
Her mood greatly improved, Ileosa smiles up at her handmaiden: "I would never doubt you, dear one! But I need a force of my own, Sabina, loyal and true - not bound by custom, or law, or tradition. Let us discuss the matter later... in my chambers." She crooks a smile at Merrin and walks to the doorway, turning back as she opens it. "Oh, and dispose of - of that, will you?" She flaps a negligent hand at the captive guard, and is gone.
Merrin strides purposefully over to the man, unlocking his shackles; he sags to the floor in a whimper. "Get up!" She drags him upright, frogmarching him across the room. "You allowed this enormity to take place - you then kept the information from me - you have humiliated me in front of the Queen!"
He tries to protest as she drags him, but she cuffs him each time he opens his mouth, and the words are lost. "You are dismissed from the Palace guard!" Opening a window, she lifts him bodily and hurls him out: his despairing scream is cut off as he hits the ground, several floors below.
Sabina Merrin listens to the scene below with satisfaction, her sultry, heavy-lidded eyes glittering. She goes to close the window, but decides the room needs some air: it reeks of scorched flesh. With a toss of her sculpted black locks, she stalks away.
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EVERYONE
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The news reaches you in fits and starts, rumour upon rumour and speculation, gossip made rampant...
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The King did not die of natural causes - he was murdered! By poison! The murderer is a young artist named Trinia Sabor who had been commissioned to paint a portrait of the king, some 2 weeks before he died.
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It is said that not just the King, but several of the guards, were seduced by her; other guards have apparently sworn oaths that they saw Trinia behaving suspiciously during her visits to the Palace.
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It is said that one of the guards has confessed to being part of the young painter’s plot, helping her slip a specially prepared poison powder into Eodred’s tea the night he took ill and her portrait of him was completed.
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This confession was made in the presence of the Queen and several officers. (The guard involved apparently was spared by the Queen's mercy, but committed suicide in shame, jumping to his death from the Palace walls.)
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There is a city-wide hunt for the young artist, who is rumoured to live in Midland district.
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SIA
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Ah, Girl. Lorick sighs This ain't about the guards. For now I'm Lamm's good little mole in there. It's about this. he takes Sia's hands and gently traces them over the cruel scar that starts from his scalp, goes over his right eye, and whose deep curve doesn't end until it reaches his broad chin. You know how I got this... You know the cutting only stopped 'cause he thought it was funnier to keep me alive and leashed then dead. The only way he'll trust me is if he makes me beat Miyoto to death bare handed to prove my loyalty and everyone in the gang knows it. He don't stop testing Sia. Not until he makes us as heartless and soulless as he is.
Lorick moves his hands to Sia's waist and brings his head close and fixes his gaze to hers.
Yeah I hate him for cutting my face up. Yeah I hate him for throwing Miyoto into gods knows what hole. But you know what I hate the most? What he's done to you. You and Miyoto're the only reason I didn't turn into a bigger version of Ladzlo and look at what he made you do. Dog eat dog nothing Sia. You used to share your scraps with pups when you thought no one was looking. We weren't murderers. He changed that didn't he? What's he going to turn us into a few months from now? A few years?
Lorick steps back still holding onto Sia's hands Anyhow, I'm not a big enough fool to try and take Lamm on by myself. I got mixed up in something much bigger. The Spider-King's made at least one real powerful enemy. I'm not in so deep that I can't walk away if I don't think it'll work but if it does then I'm going to push him into his own beast pit head first. As for all of this fancy stuff? Lorick grins and drops one of Sia's hands to take out his surprisingly heavy coin pouch and tosses it up and down making the contents clink richly together. You'd be surprised how much it can pay to put your life in danger three times a day. C'mon let me treat you for a change.
Sia screws up her face as you talk to her "Like I said, Lorick, your heart's bigger'n your head. Yeah, I gave somethin' for the dogs, when I had a bit spare; and when I didn't, I raided your food; an' you raided mine. We didn't mean nothing by it, we just did what we had to, to survive."
"An' that's the point. I'll do what I have to - an' so will you, too. You might not want to admit it, you'll certainly hate it, an' yourself, for doing it - but you'll do it. If Lamm ordered you to pulp Miyoto - if it he made it so it was him or me - you'd choose me, an' you'd do what you had to do. Afterward, yeah, it'd hurt some - but you can only hurt when you're alive."
"You think Lamm did somethin' to me? Maybe, yeah - but the streets did it first; an' I ain't never going back there. Never. Whatever it takes."
She stares at you, her gaze flinty.
Then she smiles. "Let's drop it, OK? What treats you got for me, monk of mine?"
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EVERYONE
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As it turns out, the Hellknights were forced to spend more time quelling rioters and would-be lynch mobs (hard to tell the difference between the two, sometimes) than they were able to spend in hunting the artist-assassin; and in the fuss, Trinia Sabor has apparently fled.
There is rampant speculation: some say she's hiding in the sewers; some speculate that her neighbours took her in and smuggled her out the city; others, that she is hiding out among the Shingles, those rooftop alleyways where the Queen's writ doesn't run. Everyone, it seems, has some theory or other.
The only fact not in dispute is that she remains at large. After all, her capture would be heralded throughout the city.
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EVERYONE
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A storm is brewing. The rains, which have held off for the last week or so, are heralded by lowering thunderheads: huge, dark, brooding clouds which have swept in from the Storval Plateau.
For now, the rain holds off, although the air is heavy, thick with moisture, airless; flags and banners slouch limply, as if it's all just too much bother. Every now and again, from over the horizon, comes the rumble of thunder - each time, a little louder, a little closer.
Gozran brings the sweet Spring showers as some bard wrote - and sometimes Gozreh brings everything He has. This looks like one of these times.
The streets are almost empty; nobody hinders your journey to Citadel Volshyenek.
On arrival, you are shown promptly into Field-marshal Kroft's office. She is not alone: also present is Sergeant Soldado, as well as Vencarlo Orisini, the silver-haired swordsman you met some days ago. Recognising you, he stands and bows in greeting, but remains silent.
Kroft speaks, her voice softer than usual; as if she is drawing you into her confidence. "I was hoping to send you after the renegade artist, Trinia Sabor - I would very much like to hear her side of the story, before she falls into the hands of the Hellknights - but I fear that something more urgent has come up. Vencarlo here -" interesting that she uses his first name - "has often come to me with news of important changes on the streets, and this is no different - indeed, what he’s learned could degrade into sanctions, embargos, or a diplomatic incident with Cheliax if we don’t act now."
"This problem is a man named Darvayne Gios Amprei. You might have heard of him: he’s the ambassador from Cheliax. His disdain for Korvosa is well documented, and yet he’s taken great pleasure in what our city has to offer. Even before this recent unrest, this man was ready to recommend to his government a sanction on trade, or perhaps even an embargo. Vencarlo has learned through his own considerable sources that Ambassador Amprei’s actual goals are to undermine Korvosa’s economy to the point where he can buy up large portions of the city from desperate landholders and establish himself in a position of power here. Whatever the ambassador’s reasons, we can’t let his bias or personal plans hurt Korvosa. But, at the same time, the man has diplomatic status and is effectively untouchable."
“Fortunately, Darvayne has his foibles. Again, Vencarlo has learned that Ambassador Amprei has been making fairly regular visits to a place in Old Korvosa called Eel’s End. This den of vice is run by a dangerous man named Gaedren Lamm, better known in Korvosa’s alleys as the King of Spiders."
Her eyes go flinty. "I’d dearly love to put Lamm out of business, but he pays his vice taxes regularly and whatever else he gets up to never comes to light; or never points to him. Truth be told, I can’t decide whether Lamm is a stirge or a kraken. He seems like a bloodsucking pest most days, but sometimes I worry about just how far his tentacles might have wormed their way into our great city. In this case, my fear - supported by Vencarlo's information - is that Lamm has some hold over the ambassador. It may well be that the ambassador's plan to bring Korvosa to ruin and buy it up is in fact Lamm's own."
She pauses, to allow you time to take all of this in.
Kroft sighs. "I will not let some criminal buy up this city on the cheap; and it appears that the man may have overstepped. Last week, Queen Ileosa declared a state of emergency, allowing the authorities to suspend the rule of law as and when required."
Her face wrinkles with distaste at the thought; Orisini's darkens, and he's about to say something, when Kroft cuts him off. "We've had this argument, Vencarlo. I am not about to repeat it." The phrase in front of the children goes unspoken.
Frowning, she continues. "I’d like you to pay a visit to Eel’s End and secure an audience with Lamm. Find out what he knows about Amprei, get proof of any illicit goings-on the ambassador might be involved with, and bring that proof to me to use to undermine any forthcoming attempts by him to get Cheliax to cut us off. Lamm might not be willing to part with his information easily, so I am authorising you to do what is necessary. Remember: the man is dangerous, but so are you — if things get violent, I wouldn’t mourn his passing.”
She looks - for the first time - at Soldado. "Acting-captain, I hereby temporarily suspend the rule of law within Eel's End. Please ensure than the Guard under your command are stationed close enough to contain any trouble - detain anyone who tries to leave Eel's End."
Soldado salutes. "Aye, Field-marshal. I shall take a team of people I can rely on. With your permission..." He withdraws.
Kroft looks at you. "Any questions?"
Evelyn inhales sharply and grips her hands lightly as Kroft enters the latter part of her explanation. She was filled with a mixture of trepidation and excitement.
Through pursued lips she utters a question, though she doesn't really care for the answer: "What are you looking for on the Ambassador, ma'am? Word of mouth, or something more incriminating?"
As the Marshall tells them what they have to do, Tyenar stops writing on his notebook and stands there, petrified, only his clothes moved around by a cool breeze around him.
We have to pry information from Lamm, knocking at Eel's End's door with half a dozen guards behind us? I said that the guard could help but...not now! We aren't ready, we need a plan, something, we can't just go there!
Trying his best to hide how much distressed he was, the Sylph throws a glance to the other four, to gauge their reactions.
"Marshall, how long will the suspension be in effect?" Tyenar asks feebly, the winds softly blowing around the Sylph's and the marks running on his skin betraying his nervousness.