Arriving at the top of the stairs with Gristav, Chrysanthemum evinces neither alarm nor dismay at the state of her erstwhile allies. She watches Snake and Braddon lug them past her dispassionately. "Forgiveness? Pardon? For what? I was willing to cooperate when I thought you came from Marzo. Now you ask me to believe you're just some idiots who stumbled in here and undid an operation that was months in the planning? If I don't buy it, Marzo never will."
As Braddon carries the bodies downstairs, he can't help but notice that a few of them are wearing exceptionally well-made armor. Phillip didn't take the time to strip it off of them when he took their weapons and belongings, but it ought to be worth their while to carry it with them when they go rather than leave it to be looted.
Phillip spies the freshly arrived halfing and eyes her critically...
Arriving at the top of the stairs with Gristav, Chrysanthemum evinces neither alarm nor dismay at the state of her erstwhile allies. She watches Snake and Braddon lug them past her dispassionately. "Forgiveness? Pardon? For what? I was willing to cooperate when I thought you came from Marzo. Now you ask me to believe you're just some idiots who stumbled in here and undid an operation that was months in the planning? If I don't buy it, Marzo never will."
"Perhaps some other assembly of the truth, then. Ah, Monsieur Apache, allow me to introduce, Chrysanthemum Garrison, Mumsey to some. I'm favoring 'Chrys', and she's favoring us with her presence and patience, which we are trying to return. Chrys was the alchemist assigned by Marzo to this mission, with her mission, the production of the flayleaf product and whatever poisons. She's quite accomplished, if her pride in her formulary can be trusted. It's such trust we're both working on, I think...?"
Phillip hears as Gristav speaks but it is clear that his attention is given more to Chrysanthemum than the magus. Without taking his eyes from the lady he responds evenly and emotionlessly to Gristav "So... not a Sarenrite as it turns out then?" before addressing the halfling directly and slipping into their shared language for a moment "Gran grito e pouca la. With Kreun and Ollo parede dead... does this fall to you? ...at least until Marzo sends more muscle?"
or "Much ado about nothing"
Ollo parede - Wall eye
"No, not a Sarenrite, as you saw first.", Gristav credited.
Not understanding the first phrase, Gristav kenned the second. "The man who was the second still lives... I was... quite careful...?", Gris said, mostly to himself. Well, the man was, or he wasn't, and there was still work to do... "Mapache havas la kemiisto. Vidi lin bone, antaux ol vi vidos sxin iri.", Gris shouted in Elvish.
Feeling dismissed, Gristav returned his senses to higher orders of reality, if not loftier purpose, than his fellows, and began a survey of the premises.
"Gran grito e pouca la. With Kreun and Ollo parede dead... does this fall to you? ...at least until Marzo sends more muscle?"
She scoffs. "I'm no capo, just an associate. If Marzo wants to salvage this operation, he'll send a whole new team, but that's his say-so."
Affixing Serpe and Braddon with a buisnesslike manner he cautions "Move them downstairs, make them comfortable, stop any more from passing to the Boneyard... but do not bring them back to wakefulness... at least not yet." holding gaze to see if there is some degree of assent or challenge.
"Unless you got a better reason than 'just because I said', Raccoon, I'm healing 'em up. If they wake, they wake. And if they don't, then they don't. You get your wish. But I got questions for them so they'll be locked up nice and tight as long as Braddon's manacles hold." He continues with the task at hand with removing the bodies. Moving to collect Beltias's body last.
Chuckling and with his face finally breaking into a slight smirk Phillip shrugs "Ahh, just an associate... a pity then. Are you to be trusted with a message... no perhaps not, should we wake a soldadu?" a caustic thread within his words attempting to wound her pride.
With a slight change to the timbre of his voice Phillip continues "Which should it be? To which will you pass the canvas?" raising a questioning eyebrow.
Turning to Snake, Phillip snaps with impatience "Because it's pointless asking questions of them until we ask them of each other! Por picadura da Vespa have some patience... you'll be better served asking with a full head than an empty one."
Snake just looks at the halfling, completely impassive. "Why didn't you just say so?" he asks rhetorically, returning to the task at hand.
Phillip pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment before smoothing his mustache and giving Snake the smallest of nods of acknowledgement - focusing back upon Chrysanthemum.
Braddon gives Phillip a nod.
"More manacles? That'll help. Where are the keys?"
Braddon spends a few moments attempting to obtain the manacles before returning to carry duty.
At the question of keys Phillip shrugs his shoulders... wondering what Braddon might make of the diorama that is Beltias Kreun's bedchambers.
"You'd pass a message? Choose one you're both comfortable with. And if she leaves before we're done, the next bird can carry Kreun's last missive, 'Mumsey bagged by Gendarmes. Will she talk?' Or similar. I've no wit for wiles...", Gris laments absently, his eyes following an empty, gesturing hand around the room, and away.
Chuckling and with his face finally breaking into a slight smirk Phillip shrugs "Ahh, just an associate... a pity then. Are you to be trusted with a message... no perhaps not, should we wake a soldadu?"
With a slight change to the timbre of his voice Phillip continues "Which should it be? To which will you pass the canvas?" raising a questioning eyebrow.
The halfling woman's eyes narrow. "If it's a message to carry to Marzo, I've already been given one." She glances at Snake scornfully. "No need for two messengers when one will do. Besides, these boys aren't soldiers; they're just muscle. Couldn't find two thoughts to rub together to make a spark."
Braddon enters Beltias's bedroom to examine the manacles and locate their key. He finds the two beds separated by a partition, the writing desk, the footlockers, the chest, the chair, and the wardrobe. The bed with the manacles is the one behind the half-wall separating the room. There are bottles beneath the bed, a footlocker containing articles of women's clothing and locks of hair at its foot, clothing apparently belonging to the priest in the chest, now well-rumpled by Phillip's search, and the standing wardrobe containing the black clerical robes and featureless mask.
Gristav follows Braddon in, his senses still attuned to a higher spectrum. As he slowly moves around the room, nothing within registers to his parasensory perception.
The halfling woman's eyes narrow. "If it's a message to carry to Marzo, I've already been given one." She glances at Snake scornfully. "No need for two messengers when one will do. Besides, these boys aren't soldiers; they're just muscle. Couldn't find two thoughts to rub together to make a spark."
"We have to choose one message?! But there are four of us. We'll need five messages, at least...", Gristav reasons aloud, chuckling as he imagines Braddon's, either 'Hi', or 'Look behind you. If I'm not there, wait.'
Braddon enters Beltias's bedroom to examine the manacles and locate their key. He finds the two beds separated by a partition, the writing desk, the footlockers, the chest, the chair, and the wardrobe. The bed with the manacles is the one behind the half-wall separating the room. There are bottles beneath the bed, a footlocker containing articles of women's clothing and locks of hair at its foot, clothing apparently belonging to the priest in the chest, now well-rumpled by Phillip's search, and the standing wardrobe containing the black clerical robes and featureless mask.
Gristav follows Braddon in, his senses still attuned to a higher spectrum. As he slowly moves around the room, nothing within registers to his parasensory perception.
"Beltias. Show me Beltias.", Gris says to Braddon, as his sweep comes to nought.
You know that honor is important to the Sczarni, as their power is based largely on their reputation, and they'll usually make it a point to avenge any slight they can't cover up. On the other hand, the Sczarni are outlawed in Riddleport so it might be difficult for Marzo to take his revenge. On the other hand, you already know that Marzo has soldiers who aren't ethnic Varisians, which might make it easier for him to avoid official notice. In short, it's difficult to predict without knowing Marzo and his capabilities personally.
Phillip begins to turn to respond to Gristav before seeing that the magus has already moved on. With a sigh he speaks directly to the halfling lass again "Whatever's been said it will likely change again and again... but if my word holds there'll be no gendarmes involved... what did they bring you upstairs for?"
She shrugs, more relaxed now that it's just she and Phillip in the conversation. "O ser humano, dixo para me deixar ir levar unha mensaxe de Marzo, eo medio-elfo faría iso, pero eu creo que o outro está intentando me contratar para o seu lado," she smirks, "ou quizais só para me convencer a dicir Marzo que aparece aquí e eliminando o seu equipo foi un mero accidente, no canto de unha operación premeditada."
Responding in kind Phillip keeps to the tongue of the short-statured "A metade elfo ía tirar-se antes dun coche en fuga para gardar un fillote de can e do humano probablemente vai gardar os seus demos da súa miseria."
"Se nós dous queremos gardar as nosas gargantas láminas Marzo, entón eu espero que confiar miñas palabras sobre a deles ... O Sczarni non é un misterio para min."
"O que din é verdade ... non tiñan coñecemento de que este lugar foi marcado. O medio-elfo realmente pensaba que o seu pai era un home de flores da madrugada."
"If we both want to save our throats from Marzo's blades then I hope you would trust my words over theirs... The Sczarni is not a mystery to me."
"What they say is true... they had not the knowledge that this place was marked. The half-elf truly thought the father was a man of the dawn's flower."
She grins, not without admiration. "Si, el di mentiras como perruca do mestre, fai Beltias." Then her smile fades, and she looks down the stairs where Snake has just carried one of the fallen men. "O medio-elfo pode ser un joguete, pero o ser humano sabía Kreun en Angra Roderic. Era un dos homes de Marzo. Eu o vin."
Forehead creasing as he thinks on the woman's last words, Phillip responds "Parece que vou ter falar con el sobre iso tamén. Está disposto a esperar no seu cuarto por un momento, mentres eu intento facer sentido disto?" cocking his head slightly to one side and raising a questioning eyebrow.
She snorts. "O 'meu' cuarto parece ser un asilo improvisado agora. Que compartir a compañía de un tolo, un pirralho, e unha prostituta?"
Patience wearing for a few moments Phillip shrugs and offers "Ou iso, para os próximos minutos ... ou poderiamos algemas-lo para a cama de Kreun se prefire?"
Braddon checks in and around the bed for keys, paying attention to chests and cupboards that are nearby, but out of reach of the bed.
"Beltias. Show me Beltias.", Gris says to Braddon, as his sweep comes to nought.
At Gristav's command, he shrugs and moves off towards Beltias with a smirk of pride at his deadly handiwork.
He points Gristav to the fallen figure, checks briefly for more keys then returns to helping Snake finish moving the bodies.
Patience wearing for a few moments Phillip shrugs and offers "Ou iso, para os próximos minutos ... ou poderiamos algemas-lo para a cama de Kreun se prefire?"
Her face hardens, and she gives Phil a scornful glance as she stalks over the bloodstained floor toward the room Finnie is presently occupying.
Braddon, combing through the footlocker of women's trifles a bit more thoroughly than did Phil, finds a tiny pair of keys beneath the jumbled collection.
"Beltias. Show me Beltias.", Gris says to Braddon, as his sweep comes to nought.At Gristav's command, he shrugs and moves off towards Beltias with a smirk of pride at his deadly handiwork.
Braddon leads Gristav to the lower belfry, where Beltias Kreun's mortal remains are lying beneath the ladder leading up to the bell. The priest's robes are now bloodstained from slashing wounds, and some of his bones appear to have broken in the fall, leaving his limbs lying at awkward angles. The only light filters in from down the long hallway through the open door, so it is dim even to half-elven vision.
Having shown Gris the way, Braddon returns to help Snake with the heavy burden of Badeye's corpse, the last to be removed downstairs.
Phillip gives a small bow of deference and asks "Just a few minutes... then I will return" before closing the door with Crysanthemum within. Moving back towards the two rooms left unplumbed Phil calls to the others "Downstairs in a minute after I've swept the last two rooms? - we should talk... on many things"
Turning down the final corridor, Phillip tries the original key on the next door, which opens into a room with bunkbeds against the northern wall and a cot wedged into the narrow southern end of the room. This bedroom is not as tidy as the last; the beds are unmade and rumpled, and men's clothing spills out of a pair of open footlockers. A few empty bottles that stink of stale liquor lie under the bed where they have rolled. The floor in the middle of the room has been cleared and a rough circle about five feet in diameter drawn in chalk. A shelf on the eastern wall holds four wooden boxes; each bears a word scrawled in the same chalk: "Spiker," "Jabs," "Bugsy," and "Pedros."
Braddon, combing through the footlocker of women's trifles a bit more thoroughly than did Phil, finds a tiny pair of keys beneath the jumbled collection.
"Well done. Would you hazard a guess at the freshness of those garments? If days, weeks... then perhaps family might be heartbroken to rest. Kinder, than not knowing, the fate of a loved one, a daughter, or wife... or a mother...", Gristav stops as his voice wavers, but then he seems to grow an inch, and continues, "If years... perhaps we can do nothing."
Braddon leads Gristav to the lower belfry, where Beltias Kreun's mortal remains are lying beneath the ladder leading up to the bell. The priest's robes are now bloodstained from slashing wounds, and some of his bones appear to have broken in the fall, leaving his limbs lying at awkward angles. The only light filters in from down the long hallway through the open door, so it is dim even to half-elven vision."Beltias. Show me Beltias.", Gris says to Braddon, as his sweep comes to nought.At Gristav's command, he shrugs and moves off towards Beltias with a smirk of pride at his deadly handiwork.
Having shown Gris the way, Braddon returns to help Snake with the heavy burden of Badeye's corpse, the last to be removed downstairs.
Climbing the ladder, Gristav grimaces a squint, then gaps and swings wide the trapdoor. His eyes still shut against the fresh glare, he is nevertheless sincere in his spoken, "Welcome. This house has need of You. If You're in the mood for a sign, there's a man whose voice serves You, and perhaps his heart, if his mind would serve him. I wouldn't trust, myself, to pick at the splintered jackstraws of his mind...", Gris confessed.
"If You'll pa-... forgive my inattentiveness... I wouldn't ask You to pardon me..." Gris smiled ruefully. "Not until I deserve it."
Phillip gives a small bow of deference and asks "Just a few minutes... then I will return" before closing the door with Crysanthemum within. Moving back towards the two rooms left unplumbed Phil calls to the others "Downstairs in a minute after I've swept the last two rooms? - we should talk... on many things"
In Elvish, Gristav replies, "De ŝuoj kaj ŝipoj, kaj sigelinte vakso, de brasikoj, kaj reĝinoj!", grinning so broadly it's heard in his voice, though he quietly cautions himself afterward, "Atentema. Li ŝanĝos vian kodnomo, al 'Rosmaro'."
Phillip takes a quick turn through the footlockers before turning his attention to the wooden boxes.
To Gristav's monologue Phillip offers only a raised eyebrow and mildly incredulous expression... having literally understood not a word of it.
"Would you hazard a guess at the freshness of those garments?"
Braddon having carried away the priest's exceptional short sword and any spells he might have cast in the final moments of his life having faded in the aftermath of the battle, no magic auras linger in the belfry.
Phillip takes a quick turn through the footlockers before turning his attention to the wooden boxes.
The footlockers contain men's clothing, of no great quality, the clothes in one of such great size that it seems likely that Badeye was one of the inhabitants of the room. Phil finds several pieces of chalk and a skein of twine beneath the jumble but nothing of value. He moves to the shelf and examines the boxes, reading the words scrawled on their sides: Spiker, Jabs, Bugsy, Pedros. On the floor beneath the shelf as well as behind the boxes he sees the shiny carapaces of dead cockroaches.
Braddon, combing through the footlocker of women's trifles a bit more thoroughly than did Phil, finds a tiny pair of keys beneath the jumbled collection.
Braddon tries the keys on the manacles and adds them to his collection.
"Well done. Would you hazard a guess at the freshness of those garments? If days, weeks... then perhaps family might be heartbroken to rest. Kinder, than not knowing, the fate of a loved one, a daughter, or wife... or a mother...", Gristav stops as his voice wavers, but then he seems to grow an inch, and continues, "If years... perhaps we can do nothing."
Braddon stops a moment at Gristav's words and as they sink in his expression changes from a look of horror to one of black fury.
"Maybe there's a... list with the Gendarmes," Braddon suggests through gritted teeth.His eyes dart around for the captive halfling as he shows Gristav to Beltias, his hand twitching near his sword.
As he helps Snake move Badeye downstairs he drops the body head first on to the stone before returning to join the others upstairs.
Given some degree of pause by the presence of the dead roaches, Phillip grabs the box of Spiker first - giving it a healthy shake and listening before opening it... just in case Spiker is still at home.
Phillip's precautionary rattle is answered by a faint but frantic scrabbling against the interior walls. It would seem Spiker is at home.
Knowing more than enough now, Phillip returns the box to the shelf and moves on to the next room... leaving the brave combatants to survive another day.
As they finally get Badeye - the last of the dead thugs - down the stairs, Snake finds himself curious as to what Gristav did to kill him and the other one. "Just doesn't make sense." Badeye maybe, 'cause he was fighting him, but not the one he knocked out with magic. Unless Gristav is more cutthroat than I thought. If he is, he hides it well. He looks back toward the stairs as Braddon heads back up. Bending down, he takes some time to examine both of the deceased.
Judging merely by the condition of the locks of hair, Braddon would say none of them are more than a year old.
-----------------
Having witnessed Beltias's demise, Snake examines the other corpses. Badeye and Garspheal both seem to have succumbed to blunt force trauma. Rasper's body is a patchwork of injuries: The largest is the gash Braddon's bastard sword slashed through his rib cage, but there is also a dagger wound beneath his arm and two Small crossbow bolts buried in him, one in his back and one in his head; this last seems to be the fatal blow.
-----------------
Upstairs, Phillip leaves Spiker and his fellows and unlocks the next door down the hall to reveal another small bedroom with a set of bunk beds taking up much of the limited space. A packing case under the bottom bunk contains men's clothing, while more hang on a set of hooks on the eastern wall. A quiver of arrows dangles from the corner of the top bunk and also contains a few extra bowstrings.
Looks like Gristav did a number on these two. Still don't get why he would kill the one he knocked out. And judging by these bolts and the dagger wound, looks like Raccoon finished this one off. Seems a bit close for him to be getting though. Unless Braddon's sword did it. Because that's a nasty cut. But then that would mean... He looks back toward the stairs a moment before rising. Looks like there's more to this bunch than at first perceived. Better keep one eye open at all times.
The old man! "Oh right, I almost forgot about him." He immediately heads upstairs, moving toward Geezer Pidge's room. He's just about to knock before he remembers that the old man probably won't hear him so he decides to walk in, albeit carefully. As he does, he looks around for him. "Old man?"
Phillip unhooks the quiver by half-climbing up the bunk so he can reach, before tossing it upon the pile of weaponry.
Emerging to see that Serpe is checking the one room that he has not, Phillip begins to relocate the weaponry down the stairs... by kicking it down from above to save the effort of carrying it.
He then waits below for the others to complete what they think they must before convening to exchange what will likely prove to be an invigorating discussion.
Phillip unhooks the quiver by half-climbing up the bunk so he can reach, before tossing it upon the pile of weaponry.
Emerging to see that Serpe is checking the one room that he has not, Phillip begins to relocate the weaponry down the stairs... by kicking it down from above to save the effort of carrying it.
He then waits below for the others to complete what they think they must before convening to exchange what will likely prove to be an invigorating discussion.
"Is it your intention to make a hazard of the stairs, or to ruin the arrows or wainscotting?", Gristav asks, scooping up the quiver of arrows in some haste. "I've let the sun onto Beltias; that was long overdue. Well done, I reckon... where's Mumsey?"
Responding in a clipped but not overly unfriendly tone "Short arms and no intent to strain my back... and the alchemist is in with the charity cases in her room. Safe enough for the moment." finding it roughly in keeping with Gristav's peculiarity that his confirmed favoured moniker for the lady had already waned.
The old man! "Oh right, I almost forgot about him." He immediately heads upstairs, moving toward Geezer Pidge's room. He's just about to knock before he remembers that the old man probably won't hear him so he decides to walk in, albeit carefully. As he does, he looks around for him. "Old man?"
Having seen some of the other rooms, it's now clear that Padraig has the worst accommodations in Rag's End, due largely to the warped and ill-fitting door; it must be almost unbearably cold and damp in the winter. Still, the old man also has the benefit of fresh air and as much natural light as seeps through the dirty window.
As Snake enters, Padraig is taking a swig from a small flask. He half-chokes when he sees the visitor and quickly hides the flask beneath a threadbare blanket on his cot. "Aye, young man? Have you come from the harbor? Is the Grail in?"
Snake once again notices the fresh quills, vial of ink, sheets of fine parchment, spool of twine, and oversized brass magnifying glass on the scarred surface of the makeshift desk.
As Phillip emerges from the room with the quiver, he sees Snake entering the room next door. Moving to the door across the hall, he finds it locked; applying the key, he reveals another small, shabby room with a set of bunk beds and a pair of sea chests. He finds nothing of value, only men's clothing and mundane personal belongings.
Having now searched the whole of Rag's End, and disregarding the 'guest' bed in Beltias' room, you have found sleeping quarters for nine persons plus Geezer Pidge -- but you have only seven bodies plus the halfling woman.
"The Grail? What is the importance of the Grail to you, old man?"
"Jhonas is a hand on the Grail," he replies, as if it should be obvious.
He just looks at the man blankly. What's that got to do... Deciding to continue with the game until he can get to asking more relevant questions, "Jhonas? Is he your son?"
"Aye, he's a fine lad, is Jhonas," the old man rambles on; whether in response to Snake or merely completing his earlier thought is unclear. "It were a fine sight, the Devil's Grail setting out under the 'Gate at the evening tide."