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Kroft gives Bordan a withering look at his first sarcastic remark. As she lets the others argue it out, she moves to take her seat behind her desk.
"Unfortunately Bordan, you are too damned valuable to waste. You are also, for the most part, young and naive. Which is still a forgivable offense in Korvosa.
"But this cannot happen again. No more vigilante actions. If you get yourself into something that isn't officially guard business, and is over you head. You cannot come here. I wont be able to help. I simply don't have the resources, either physically, or politically to pull you out of the fire."
"Now go. But I want you back here tomorrow morning."
Roj nods wearily and steps out of the Kroft's office, walking quickly out of the citadel. He turns away from Zellara's instead heading to his own house, where he promptly passes out from exhaustion.
Once out of Kroft's office and the citadel, Gwen turns to the others with a big smile.
"So, that went well enough, don't you think? Let's celebrate! Let's have a night out, drink good wine, eat good food, meet people, have fun! I can't seem to recall the last time I just had fun. First round of wine is on me!"
Don' have ta tell twice! Somewhere decent eh?
"Absolutely! Leave that to me, Borden!"
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While Roj returns to his family, Borden and Gwen find somewhere to drink, the Three Rings Tavern in Five Corners seems a likely choice, after Kroft recommended it, and indeed you find a warm welcome. The food and drink flows into the early hours.
Some still hiss "usurper" and "murdering harlot" at the mere utterance of Ileosa’s name, and more shockingly, rumors that the king’s death was not of natural causes are increasing.
The queen fer a poisoner eh? Who'd 'ave thunk it? Still, not unheard of either. Not sure if its jus' the people riled up over these riots an' lashin' out or if theres somethin' to their words.
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As the night wears on Bordan picks up on another name, Trinia Sabor. The first time he hears it is just after a man hurries in and finds some friends, to whisper to, but word spreads around the inn quickly, and soon everyone knows. The queen has announced that the killer of the king has been identified, and it is Trinia.
Not long after, as the sun begins to rise outside, a guardsman runs into the Inn, and noticing Gwen, runs over. "The field Marshall has urgent business. She'll be here in a few minutes!"
Erik's excused himself for most the night, flashing a gold coin by way of explanation as to where he's going, and when he finally joins Gwen and Borden at the Three Rings he's kitted out in a new outfit, an elegant ensemble of noble's clothing, from calfskin boots to a handsome suede jacket with fashionably cut sleeves. His hair is coiffed, he's even washed, and he radiates a contented glow that speaks of alcohol, sex, and money.
He buys the next round, voice boisterous, but when the rumors begin to go round, he subsides, eyes narrowing, lips pursed.
By the time the guardsman enters, Erik's sunken into a corner, his noble's clothing rumpled and wine stained, his eyes half lidded, but his smile it seems has become a permanent fixture. The guard's message rouses him.
Sitting up, he snaps his fingers, and motes of light float down his length, erasing the stains, ironing out the ruffles, and cleaning his face and hair again till he looks as smart as when he first walked in.
He stands a little woozily, and makes his way to Gwen's side.
Gwen has thoroughly enjoyed the night out, but has been careful not to overdo with the wine, thinking about the morning after and the meeting with Kroft. She has paid little attention to the rumours about the queen, but she can hardly ignore the sudden news that the killer has been identified.
When the guardsman addresses her, she tries to compose herself, then sees Erik's magic trick and whispers: "That's so cool! Could you do that to me too?"
Roj steps into the Three Rings, a fresh blue cloak hanging from his shoulders and his beard trimmed. He looks a bit more rested, but still struggles to suppress a yawn every so often.
"I came as soon as I could. Kroft hasn't made it here yet, has she?"
He slides into a seat near Erik, just in time to catch his trick. He says nothing, shaking his head slowly at Gwen's question.
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A minute or two after Roj arrives so does Kroft. Someone must have informed her where you are for her to get here so quickly behind the guard.
The Inn Keep stands as Kroft enters and at a nod from the Field Marshall moves quickly off to ready a private room. Two guards stand outside as Kroft invites you all swiftly inside.
"You’ve doubtless heard the stories that the king’s killer has been named. Yet there’s something more going on here, I’m afraid. Queen Ileosa could have quietly had this Trinia Sabor arrested at any time, yet the way in which she revealed the information to the city seems to me like she wants the riots to come back. Certainly, with the mob and the Hellknights out on the street, the girl doesn’t stand a chance at a trial—they’ll lynch her the moment they find her. And even if she did kill the king, mob justice isn’t the way. Worse, if she’s innocent, the real killer can use this distraction to throw us off the trail forever.
"Before Trinia is executed, we need to be absolutely sure she did this thing. And that means we need to catch her before the mob. We know where she lives—a flat in Midland at 42 Moon Street—but soon, so will the mob. The Hellknights
don’t seem to care as much about catching her as they do about containing the mob—something about the “order of law” makes it a greater priority for them to contain than a possible assassin. I can’t say I disagree completely, but the problem is, the Hellknights are only making it worse. The mob’s covering most of Midland now, and Trinia’s flat is near the middle of the mess. I’ve got all available guards at work keeping things from getting any worse—and if I were to send them into Midland, they’d trigger a riot.
"I’m sure you can see where this is going. I need you to get into Midland, find Trinia, and bring her back to me so we can deliver her, safe and sound, to somewhere where she can be interrogated—preferably with magic, so we can be absolutely sure about her role in Eodred’s death. Get in there, catch her, and get out without letting the mob get its hands on her. I’ll have agents and officers nearby. If you can get her to one of them, we’ll be in the clear. Any questions?"
Erik gives Gwen a nod at her request, and casts Prestidigitation on her as well.
When Kroft enters and delivers her request, he simply stands at the back of the group, keeping his eyes averted once more.
"Yes ma'am, two questions actually. What would be the quickest route to that place and how will we recognize your officers? I suppose they will be under cover to avoid attracting the mob's attention."
Roj looks up, concerned, and waves a server over for something to drink. He looks Kroft in the eyes, staring at her. "So, you want us to make our way through riotous citizens, walk into this what, house? Walk into this house armed and armored, convince a scared girl who's wanted by the mobs and the queen to surrender herself to agents of the Korvosan Guard, and then walk right back through the mob?"
Raising an eyebrow, he looks over her shoulder at the wall. "I mean, Gwen and the rest are pretty good at what they do, and I fully agree that an no-one should be subjected to death without some sort of evidence, but if you're not willing to give us more information to work with, I don't see how this job is doable. What does she look like, what skills does she have, that kind of information." He pauses, scratching at his beard, and stands to stretch in his armor.
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"If you make a fight of it, absolutely, you will be dead within minutes I expect. I can give you a map to the exact building that is her home, and our only chance of finding her. My men will know you, and will be posted such that they cannot miss you. I can give you a full description.
"I need you to do this precisely because any sort of direct assault is futile. I would advise you leave the armour behind, and use your charisma to get close to her, and get her to safety.
[b]"This is a slim chance, but her only one that I can see."
Erik steps forward shyly.
"I, um, I have this hat."
It's an inauspicious beginning. He tugs the worn cap from his pack. It clashes mightily with his new finery. "It, um, it has this special property, see? If you wear it, it can make you look like, uh, well, a gnome. Or a halfling?"
Erik pulls the cap onto his head, and immediately his form is replaced by that of a stout halfling man with handlebar mustaches and ruddy cheeks. He pulls the cap off, and immediately is himself once more.
"We could put the cap on Trinia when we reach her, then saunter out as easy as we please." Erik looks desperately uncomfortable speaking before Kroft. "In fact, I can kind of go invisible when I want to? So maybe we can just get close to her house, then I can slip through whatever mob is there and deliver the cap and our message to her, unseen like?"
"I am sure that we can try..."
"Uh, wait, NO armour whatsoever? Even a simple chain shirt under a cloak?"
Glancing quickly at his breastplate, Roj stands. "Very well, ma'am. The Dawn will be all the armor I need. Shall we head to the ghost's house to drop off unneeded gear, and then visit this Trinia?"
"That will do fine for me."
Roj pulls his shield from his back, setting it on the table, and begins undoing straps and buckles from his breastplate. After a minute, he sheds it as well and begins adjusting his cloak and belt to fit better around his body. Finishing, he drops his crossbow and bolts onto the pile.
"I'll keep my blade, if it's all the same to you."
Erik steps back behind the group, maintaining his guise as a stout halfling.
Gwen makes sure her chain shirt is well hidden under her cloak, drinks a last gulp of wine from the glass she's brought with her, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand with a satisfied sigh and signals that she's ready to roll.
As Roj steps out of the tavern, he feels both light and, somehow, naked without his armor. He shrugs off the feeling, turning to his comrades instead. "So, Erik's hat gives us an option. Does anyone else have a good idea for how to do this?"
Basil shrugs.
"We are meant to be flying below the radar, so simply wandering in, as quickly as possible (sans bulky weapons/armor), seems like the best idea right now..."
Agreed friend Basil. Borden leaves his spear and shield behind
Gwen looks longingly at her greatsword. "Really? Why should we leave our weapons? It wouldn't look strange to be armed with all the chaos that's spreading throughout the city these days..."
"Well, for starters, we don't want to spook the person we have been sent to find - the point is to [i]not[/] look like a bunch of heavily-armed individuals, intent on killing/capturing her..."
Roj turns, looking at Gwen's sword. "Leave it. We can buy you something less conspicuous on the way, if need be. I'm certain Kroft will take good care of our equipment while we're away from it, but time is of the essence here."
Uh, all right, all right... Gwen removes her greatsword and follows the others.
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The trip to Midland is relatively easy. The streets are clear until you get to within a half mile of the place. The main body of the crowd is a building or two away from where you are headed, so although there is a press, their focus is not yet on your target, and you are able to slip through the crowd and into the building fairly easily.
Midland is a densely built section of the city, a place where, at ground level, direct sunlight is a rarity. Above, jury-rigged catwalks, overhanging roofs, lines of laundry, and homemade bridges of rope and boards create a cluttered tangle, a multi-level mess of gutters, upper floors, and rooftops. This is the slum above—a place known as The Shingles.
There appear to be 4 apartments on the ground level, and an old staircase leading up.
Up and to the apartment lads... And ladette of course., Borden tucks his sword hilt under his cloak as he ascends the stairs. Which appartment anyway?
"Perhaps Erik could... I don't know, turn into a young boy, knock at all the doors and say he's looking for his lost cat? As far as I know, this Trinia is of medium build, with blond, short cropped hair and innocent eyes, golden hair, and lithe frame set. She should be fairly recognizable.
This way at least we'll be able to exclude some apartments; then we'll search the ones where nobody has answered the door."
we could just ask people... Gold coin or two does the trick
Borden accosts the nearest people offering a gold coin to find his long lost friend Trinia who should live around here. payment on being led to her door.
"Uh, Borden? Are you sure it's such a good idea to spread around the word that you're friendly with someone who's name is the same as the suspected murderer of the King? We wouldn't want the mob to turn on us now, would we? I ain't even got my greatsword with me."
"I think we should ask the residents. I know most of my neighbors, maybe these people know most of theirs." Roj steps toward the nearest door, then pauses. "Of course, if she hasn't been found yet, either the mob hasn't asked here, or the tenants aren't telling. Still, not much to do about it."
He knocks on a door, producing a loud thumping. "Hello in there? I have a few questions for you, if you have the time or inclination."
Taken somewhat aback by the elven woman's bluntness, Roj looks at the others for a moment. Turning his attention back to the woman, he begins. "M-ma'am, I'm looking for a young lady. Trinia Sabor. Short blonde hair, skinny frame, do you know where she is? That mob out there seems to be after her, and as a representative of the Dawn, it's my duty to protect her from it."