"No, let him go. He knows who to come to with information now. Punishing him for being helpful will not help us at all. Besides, it's his boss we want."
Orlan starts nodding vigorously in agreement with Karri. "Er--yeah! Yeah! The creepy lady knows what she's talking about! Definitely!"
"That alleyway." Demitri says drawing his sword taking after the noise.
Nalun draws his own blade and moves after Demitri.
"Wait, what's going on? I told Tarkus I'd leave him off the hook. Is he up to something?" Lyla follows Demitri and Nalun down the alleyway.
"Go, all of you!", Ortik says. "Don't wait up for me, I'll just slow you down. I'll be along eventually." As the others leave, he looks straight into Orlan's eyes. "The last two times I gave someone a chance to turn their lives around, they both threw it back in my face. One of them died defending a necromancer. The other wasn't as lucky - he was given over to the Shoanti. Do me a favor - restore my faith in humanity, and don't be like them. Because if I have this happen a third time, I'm not going to be very forgiving at all. Do we have a kenning, friend?"
Orlan nervously nods. "Yes sir. Yes sir."
Demitri will open the door.
The door opens with a soft *click*.
Delicate wall hangings, artistically shaped candles, and the fine scent of cherry blossoms fill this well-decorated apartment. A table sculpted with swirling ivy leaves bears a fragile porcelain tea service and an exotically curved hookah in a kitchen nook to the east. A door adjacent to the kitchen opens into a bedroom furnished with an antique armoire and a bed sheeted in purple silks and heavily laden with round pillows.
You can also hear voices talking on the other side of the door... one of them is the unmistakeable growling of Tarkus, and the other is the soft, albeit nasal, voice of a young woman.
Karri follows Demitri and Nalun into the building, Legion chattering madly at her. She let's them ride close to the surface ready to call them to the fore. Her eyes shift and flicker, she whispers, "Only if we have to!"
Looking around, you also notice that the apartment's owner has two stacks of (frankly maudlin & amateurish) poetry, as well as two amateur paintings in the kitchen--one depicting a Chelish opera house, and the other depicting a serene, snowy mountaintop.
Nalun gestures to the handle and then the door. He raises two fingers and whispers Talking
"Boss, I think we've been found out. We need to pull up stakes and get the Hells out of town, now." The growling, baritone voice of Tarkus says.
"Oh, really?" Replies the soft, nasally woman. Her tone is quite flippant.
"Yes, really. Listen, Vendra, you might have been able to pay off enough Guardsmen in the past to keep yourself out of the Citadel, but--"
"Tarkus, Tarkus, my boy, my darling--I think you worry too much. I know the guards have been... reformed, so it'll be more difficult to convince them to leave us alone. However, every man & woman has their price. I'm certain they'll listen to reason."
"Not this bunch. It's Kroft's lads. They found Orlan and I--caught us before we could get our water for tonight."
There's a silence in the conversation.
"...what?" The woman's tone has lost much of its former bravado.
"Yeah. Led by that Severin fool--you know, the guardsman who marches around like he's got Iomedae's broadsword sheathed in his ass? He can't be bought. None of his crew can. We need to go!"
"Where are they now? Did they follow you here?!"
"They were going to interrogate Orlan when I left. Why are we still standing around?"
"Dammit, dammit, dammit... alright, gentlemen. Start destroying all the equipment, and someone get the cashbox from the perfumery out front. They could be here at any moment! Hurry!"
Nalun shoves the door open as hard as he can moving swiftly into the room and shouting Drop your weapons on order of Field Marshal Kresida Croft!
Demitri follows suite right behind Nalun, sword drawn. "You're all under arrest."
Ortik enters as well, his warhammer already in his hand. "You'd best listen to the Chelaxians, friends. These would be relatively minor charges at the best of times - which these aren't. Don't go doing anything that would cause these two to show you how skilled they are with their blades, and it'll go much better for you."
Nalun and Demitri burst through the hidden door with a loud *CRASH!*
Bits of broken crates and barrels cover the floor of this dilapidated apartment. A tun of oily liquid, its lip level with a man’s chest, fills a corner of the room, a well-used canoe oar sticking out of it. Next to it squat several large casks of murky water and two stacks of boxes—one holding dozens of small ceramic vials with magenta stoppers, the other holding a mismatched collection of delicate perfume bottles. The apartment’s kitchen nook holds another crate, this one filled with broken shards of multicolored glass. Despite being in shambles, the apartment smells delightful—a mixture of spices, flowers, and exotic oils.
Vendra & Tarkus whirl as the two men force their way in, as do three well-dressed men in purple cravats. Their saps immediately fly to their hands...
"You'd best listen to the Chelaxians, friends. These would be relatively minor charges at the best of times - which these aren't. Don't go doing anything that would cause these two to show you how skilled they are with their blades, and it'll go much better for you."
...and as they move to strike, Ortik's words stop them short.
"Y'know, the dwarf DOES have a point..."
"Yeah, these guys look pretty tough."
"I don't think I signed up for this nonsense."
The well-dressed woman wearing a fine yellow dress and ruby necklace looks at her three helpers, aghast. "Wh--are you SERIOUS?! Get ahold of yourselves, dammit! We need to go! NOW!"
She then turns to Tarkus and barks "Tarkus! Get us out of here!"
The half-orc, not swayed by Ortik's words of wisdom, nods in agreement. "Can do."
"No, you can't" Karri pulls Legion up, and with whatever fate has touched her she slips past Demitri and Nalun, into the room and passed Vendra, Tarkus and the enthralled thugs. Once to the other side, she reaches into herself for an old, tried true part of Legion. Her skin turns and tears as she pulls forth that vivid, crashing wave of colors to smash into her foes. With a croaking shout of something else's glee, her head rolls back and laughs at her foe's misery. I didn't want this to happen!!! Yes you did...it's why you brought us here...
Tarkus' hands fly to his eyes as Karri's Legion sears its colours into his face. "AAAAAGH! F+#@!"
Vendra manages to shield herself from the worst of it, as does one of the cravat-wearing goons. Unfortunately, one of the other goons gets coloured garishly and he cries out in surprise. Ortik's spell over the thugs promptly breaks, causing the lot to come to their senses.
The two thugs unaffected by the spell promptly yank saps out from their belts and advance on Karri to beat her senseless!
They both connect with Karri's head, causing her to see stars.
Demitri moves into the room to help Karri.
Sword already drawn his strikes at a thug.
"Don't let any of them get away."
Demitri's sword cuts into the man's back, drawing blood and curses.
Nalun dodges forward in a low roll
He comes up behind the Thug who attacked Karri and he says You shoulda listened bub.
Lyla leans against the wall watching the group move in on the thugs. Staring at Vendra, she juggles the bomb in her hand, throwing it up and down while swinging her head from one side to the other. "It's so hard to be reasonable when you guys keep making stupid choices..." With a swift movement, she throws the projectile against the woman. The bomb shatters on impact, its content rapidly expanding into a blob. "I like what you've done with the place, smell-wise. Maybe you can give me a few tips later, this tanglefoot of mine stinks a little bit."
Nalun's sword narrowly misses the thug's vitals, instead hitting him where his armour is the thickest. He flinches, but isn't hurt.
Unfortunately for Vendra, Lyla's gluey payload sticks her dress and body to the floor and nearby wall. Tarkus and one of the thugs manage to avoid the worst of the sticky substance.
Vendra starts flailing about and trying to get unstuck from the floor...
...and in a fit of panic, somehow manages to tear herself free! Her dress tears off at the thigh with a loud *RIPPING* noise. She fumbles with her now visible garter, drawing a length of beech wood from it and gripping it tightly in her hand.
"You have let Korvosa down," Ortik intones. "As her chosen champions, she guides our blades!" A sound not unlike Majenko's fluttering wings echoes about the backroom of the building.
Ortik's blessings infuses the party with power!
Karri staggers against the wall and Legion leaps to the front. Her arms jerking wildly, like a barely controlled marionette, her voice rasping up from her chest, she pulls out more of the same energy, pushing it into the faces of the fleshlings that can still see. Unfortunately, Legion seems to realize at the last moment that if Karri dies, their ride into the world ends... The spell diffuses before it can do more than leave her fingertips.
Tarkus staggers about, still clawing at his eyes. One of the thugs fumbles for his sap, but the colours are still messing with his vision.
The remaining thugs swing their saps at the men who just tried to strike them...
...unfortunately, they're not swinging their coshes at random civilians or spellcasters who don't wear much armour to begin with. They start to realize their mistake when the two men effortlessly deflect their clumsy swings with their weapons & shield.
Demitri strikes back.
Demitri's sword catches on the thug's armour without hurting him.
Nalun attacks the man between himself and Karri, studying him for weaknesses
but his sword is unwieldy in these cramped spaces.
Lyla sighs watching the fight develop. "Remember that you asked for this", she says, popping a cork and drinking a steaming orange beverage. Her face reddens and fumes vent out of her nose and ears, her eyes tearing up as the girl's cheeks fill up. When she can no longer hold the extract down, she leans forward to avoid hitting Ortik, and opens her mouth letting out a blast of fire that engulfs Tarkus, Vendra and one of the thugs.
Tarkus ducks and manages to evade the worst of Lyla's firebreathing potion.
Vendra, on the other hand, isn't so lucky. When the flames reach her, the air around her suddenly explodes into a fireball that engulfs her. Her dress and hair go up in flames, and the smell of smoke & burned flesh mixes with the room's once pleasant smells of flowers and oils.
She screams in agony. "AAAAAAAHHHHH! STOP! STOP! I DON'T WANT TO DIE! PLEASE!"
The remaining thugs, seeing their boss get set on fire, promptly start lowering their saps. Tarkus keeps flailing about.
Nalun asks Can we take the big one without killing him? to Demitri
"We can try, but first...." Demitri says before lifting a cask of murky water and dumping it all over Vendra. "That's better. Standing trial is hard enough, much less while on fire."
Vendra doesn't resist when Demitri dumps a cask of river water all over her. At least it extinguishes the fires on her.
"Stand down, Tarkus!", Ortik shouts to the large man. "Your boss is in custody. Throw down your weapon, and no further harm will come to you." He watches the warrior closely, waiting to see if he complies.
Tarkus shakes his head as his vision clears. He groggily glowers at the party, but can't seem to muster the will to pick up his axe.
Tarkus had:
--1 Masterwork Greataxe
--1 Suit of Masterwork Chainmail
--1 Light Blue Potion
--1 Light Orange Potion
--1 Dark Red Potion
--1 Masterwork Sling
--20 Bullets
--1 Climber's Kit
--250 GP
The thugs each had:
--1 Masterwork Sap
--1 Suit of Chainmail
--20 GP
--1 Perfume bottle of 'Lavender's Luxuriant Liniment'.
Vendra had:
--1 wand of beech wood
--1 wand of ash wood with a golden feather on one end
--1 pair of silver bracers, engraved with images of entwined roses
--2 vials of clear fluid, each labeled 'Giant Wasp Venom'
--1 Masterwork dagger
--50 GP worth of silver & violet jewelry.
Now, lets go explain ourselves to the Judge shall we? Nalun says, using his manacles to restrain Tarkus and Vendra.
"We shall do that." Demitri will keep an eye on the other thugs to make sure they don't run away.
Tarkus & Vendra don't resist as Nalun puts them in irons and starts marching them out of the tenement. The thugs, if prodded, go along quietly as well.
The walk through South Shore's dark streets is quiet and uneasy as the party leads the captured criminals onward. The silence is periodically broken by quiet moans and hacking coughs, but surprisingly enough, the streets are free of plagued people tonight. The rotting stench of illness mixes with the salty air blowing in from the river & harbour.
By the time the party reaches Citadel Volshyenek, it becomes apparent that some sort of gathering is happening in the middle of the courtyard. The entire Korvosan Guard is clustered around the raised execution platform, and a cool, imperious voice rings out over them...
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Korvosan Guard, allow me to apologize for disrupting any business, or interfering with any prior engagements you may have had this evening." Queen Ileosa struts forward on the hangman's platform, her immaculately coifed red braids shining in the torchlight. "It is unfortunate that the affair that gathers us together tonight is... a troubling one."
"The pox sweeping our fair city is showing no signs of slowing its pace that I can see, despite the efforts of our many faiths and herbalists. I fear that unless steeper measures are taken, Korvosa will not survive--no man, woman, or child will be safe, no matter how deep their pockets or how strong their bodies." The queen folds her arms and sighs. "I had hoped such a day would never come, but perhaps that was too foolish and naïve of me--Korvosa has been subjected to such tragedies before, and everything must be done to survive them."
"To that end, I have sought assistance from many corners of Varisia, and my efforts have been rewarded." She gestures behind her, and from behind the platform come at least twenty men, all dressed in coweled, black leather robes and wearing white masks in the shape of crow faces. Some wear wide brimmed hats, some wear elaborate scarves, others even have the audacity to go bareheaded. All of them bear satchels and knives. Leading them is an olive-skinned, dark-haired man whose lips seem permanently quirked into a half-smile. Even in the dim torchlight, his blue eyes shine brightly.
"Before you stand the Queen's Physicians, each of them trained and equipped to deal with the pestilence that plagues our poor and downtrodden." Queen Ileosa makes a grand, sweeping gesture to indicate all of them. "Led by one Dr. Davaulus, they have agreed to lend their expertise to Korvosa, purging it of waste and disease, wherever it may linger. They will succeed where our own methods have faltered--and I expect each of you to aid them. Without exception." The queen glances over at a tired-looking Field Marshal Kroft, who just snorts.
"But that is not all." The queen smirks and looks to her bodyguard, standing at her right. "I have no intention of letting the Korvosan Guard protect my Physicians alone. Isn't that right, Sabina?"
Kroft blinks in surprise. "Wait. What--?"
Sabina nods. "Indeed, Your Grace." She turns to the platform again and barks "Maidens! Step forward! March!"
From behind the platform step many women, each clad in form-fitting grey full plate mail and armed with a sharp sword & shield. Their faces are covered by red-plumed helmets, polished to a mirror shine. The faces of the gathered guardsmen are sharply reflected in them, and the darkened eye-slits in the helmets prevent anyone from glimpsing at the person underneath. There is no warmth in their movements, no humour, no emotion of any sort. Only cold, hard discipline. They move in unison, only stopping when they flank the gathered Physicians.
"By Her Grace's edict, I have recruited only the most loyal and dedicated of the Queen's women, and charged them with defending her interests by blood and blade. In the finest armour they have been clad, and with the finest swords they have been armed. Under my tutelage, they have grown from impressionable young women into bastions of discipline and skill worthy of defending the Arabasti line. They shall guide the Korvosan Guard in keeping Her Grace's Physicians safe as they toil to save our beloved city." Sabina spreads her arms wide.
"They are my Grey Maidens. And may each of them be blessed."
The queen chuckles. "Well spoken, Sabina. Well spoken, indeed." She turns to the gathered crowd and speaks once more. "Go forth then, Guardsmen, and do your city proud."
The physicians and Grey Maidens file out of the courtyard into the streets of Korvosa, followed by several guard patrols. None of them pay you any heed as they pass by.