As they spot Pyrrha coming up behind them, the few men holding Korihor scramble to move faster. After a moment, the sorceress is covered in slick grease, and her abductors struggle to keep a hold of her. After fumbling a few times and finally dropping her to the ground, they move to pick her up as Pyrrha advances on them with her sword drawn.
"Ah, f*ck it! Just move!" one of them yells, leaving Korihor behind to make a quick getaway. The two well-armored men hesitate for a moment, but eventually move to flee the scene as well. While quite jostled by the whole experience, Korihor doesn't appear to be injured, although her hands are tied taught behind her back. Several common folk seem to have witnessed the fighting, and are moving closer to the two in order to find out what's going on.
As Ahto moves in to club the dwarf, he fires a volley from his blunderbuss. Zeph's bolt of lightning careens into his shoulder, throwing off his aim enough that Ahto only feels a sharp pain as a few of the pellets lodge themselves in his shoulder. The dwarf catches Ahto's club on his firearm, and quickly downs some sort of concoction. "This ain't worth the money, not for this kinda bullsh*it," he says, as he quickly flees the scene, likely thanks to whatever liquid he imbibed. The strands of thick, orange webbing start to disintegrate quickly, leaving fine brown dust settling along the streets.
"...OWwww..." Ahto says, as he finally catches his breath. "A gunfight wasn't the kind of fight I was looking for. I hope little missy appreciates all the scars I've just taken on her behalf."
He leans against a nearby wall and slides down into a seated position. He then takes a moment to examine the pellet wounds in his shoulder.
"Anyone a healer?" he asks the crowd of onlookers. "I'd be grateful for a bit of cleaning and stitching."
Korihor rolls onto her side, her hands still bound behind her. Her eyes are closed as she catches her breath to the sounds of the men retreating.
Pyrrha does not pursue the attackers despite the great deal of damage they have done. Instead she pulls the ropes off poor Korihor, the look in her eyes is one of annoyed frustration.
She stands and meets the curious onlookers with a flat palm attempting to keep them at bay.
"Who were those people and what did they want with you? she asked turning to address Korihor again.
Korihor opens one eye to look at Pyrrha, a drip of snot dangling from the tip of her nose. "Really? You covered me in giant boogers?"
Pyrrha glares
"You weren't doing well enough on your own. Your welcome!"
Korihor chuckles, then groans. "I totally had that guy...right where I wanted him."
Tumbling through the crowd, he gets sight of Korihor just as she unceremoniously crashes to the ground. Seeing the others flees, he lets up just a step, arriving shortly after Pyrrha. Smiling at the ladies, he looks up to the grease covered Chelaxian. "soooo, who did ye say he were again? An' why were yer friends do intent on whiskin' he off? Ye leave the stumpy one at the altar or som'tin'?"
"If she knows anything she's being reluctant to share, so since I know nothing of what's happened I'm going to make myself scarce; the city officials will be looking for someone to pin this on."
Korihor groans, trying to sit up. "Pyrrha, help me up. I need...to go with you."
As Kierana makes her slow way back to the Pleasure Court, she rounds a corner of the street and sees Pyrrha and Korihor bickering, Ahto sitting against the wall grimacing in pain, Brand and Zeph nearby conversing. Oh, thank the Savored Sting, she's free again... she thinks, touching the holy symbol around her neck reverently as she makes her slow way to the others.
It's good to see you at liberty, girl. She offers a burned hand to Korihor.
Pyrrha sheaths her sword with a flourish and begins walking to double back to find the others intentionally leaving Korihor covered in grease and on the ground. "You'll have nothing from me until I have answers or coin in my pouch. The world isn't full of charity." Pyrrha stops short of leaving Korihor and the wounded Kierana alone.
Korihor chuckles, taking the proffered hand, leaving both of them covered in grease. "Sorry," she winces. "You should get that looked at," she says, gesturing to Kierana's hand.
Pulling a gold coin out of her purse she flips it at Pyrrha. "Thanks," she says, smiling sardonically.
"We should get out of here," she hisses, catching Brand's eye as she starts to leave. "I think my - friends - are not through trying to whisk us off."
Ahto, seeing that the group has reassembled and is preparing to leave, struggles to get back to his feet.
As he stands he gives an few grunts of pain from the jostling of his wounded arm. interspersed within the sounds can be faintly heard the words, "..deed...unpunished.."
Limping quickly down a side street away from the gathering eyes of the crowd, Korihor passes Ahto and Pyrrha, catching the woman's eye. "No act of charity goes unresented," she says, kicking the coin she flipped earlier away from them. She smiles, and wipes some of the grease from her face. "Let's get out of here."
Ahto gives Pyrrha a sidelong glance, shakes his head and sighs.
"It'll settle up soon...I hope." he mutters to her under his breath.
Zeph nods to Korihor's suggestion, "I think we might want to stay out of the unsavory parts of town for a while. We could stop at my family's farm and take stock of our injuries and consolidate information if you'd all like."
"Works for me. I lost my last bit of coin in that fight with Twist, anyway. Your family farm has got to be miles better than sleeping in an alley!" Ahto says, giving Zeph an appreciative pat on the shoulder.
"A farm is far more suitable than the busy streets full of curious eyes, let's go, and quickly, but I'd caution against taking her with us," Pyrrha motions to Korihor with the slightly gesture with her head, "Of course I know this not even an option given the type of all of you, but she's likely to get the farm blown up as well."
Korihor reels on Pyrrha seething, locking eyes with her. "I will blow the farm away!" The street around them grows silent at her outburst, her last words echoing of the buildings. Realizing her fists are clenched, she glances at the others, chagrined.
Turning, she hurries down the street, her head down, her stride slipping on the oil on the bottom of her boots.
Zeph hurries after Korihor and catches her by the arm. "We're going this way. " Motioning down a different street before his voice drops to a whisper "Don't worry about Pyrrha, it's my home and you are welcome to join us."
Thank you, darling, Kierana replies, giving Zeph a friendly kiss on the cheek, then wincing as the movement threatens to tear at one of her barely-healed burns. A safer place sounds like a good idea. Sorry if I slow things a bit.
Korihor blinks at Zeph, and smiles timidly. She follows the rest of the group quickly down the side street.
As the party arrives at Zeph's family farm, the hired help wave towards the group, welcoming them to the area. Outside of the more bustling city walls, the incidents that seemed so clearly etched into your mind begin to fade. While several of the party are still heavily injured, the farm offers some sanctuary to the group.
As they enter the old farmhouse, Zeph's aging mother calls from the den. "Zeph? Zeph, is that you? I was wondering where you had gotten off to. You've got a visitor." While a bit confused, it's evident from her tone that the woman is not in any danger. As the group rounds the corner, the old woman is pouring herself a cup of tea, offering another to none other than Twist, a makeshift bandage wrapped about the shoulder of his left arm.
"About time you folks showed up. We've a need to talk business." After a moment, he turns to Zeph's mother again. "And thank you for the tea."
Acharn, stay out here, Kierana croons at the old home's entrance. The giant wasp lands heavily from its hover and grows still resting on the deck, its buzz going silent. With a pat of her companion's head, Kierana enters, rounds the corner, and sees Twist sitting at the table. For a moment, a look of intense shock crosses her face, but she immediately masters herself and sits, though the wince as she hits the chair is harder to disguise.
Stranger business than I anticipated, breaking up that crowd earlier. Pray tell, what exactly is it I've fallen into? Because I don't see these scars - and here she holds up her forearm, showcasing the still-inflamed burns - being good for business, and they've ruined my favorite dress. She looks down at the scraps of fabric barely clinging to each other and to her burns. Though I suppose dress is too generous a term now... I'd like to know who I have to thank for it.
"Whose business?" Ahto asks. "Are you hiring us, or are you acting as a broker for someone else?" His emphasis on the last words is pronounced, and laced with a cautiously suspicious tone.
Korihor comes in and stands against the wall, back from the others, listening carefully.
Zeph feels a flash of irrational anger seeing Twist sitting with his mother. While the man didn't seem to be a threat to them he was dangerous nonetheless. Still, he schooled himself and greeted his mother with a boyish smile "It is wonderful to see you mother, we have had a most eventful day. As you can see, some of my friends are wounded, can you grab the medical kit for us please?"
As soon as she leaves the room on the errand Zeph turns to Twist with rage boiling in his eyes. "What do you want Twist? Involving my mother is not winning you any favours from me."
Pyrrha mostly just echoed her concerns over and over up until she could tell that one or two more times would have been a tad bit too annoying, and she has been silent ever since.
At the farm house its impressive how her cold composure hardly relents in the comforts of safety and a cozy abode. She sits in a comfy chair but her posture is fixed so upright and solemn it looks like she is forever holding the instant before one would jump from the seat and dash out the door.
Entering slowly into Zeph's home, he quickly becomes on edge seeing Twist sitting within so casually. As the others jump to the lead, he steps back, cautiously palming a blade ready for a pursuer to burst through a door at any moment.
Korihor nods at Brand, speaking under her breath. "You worried?"
Brand looks over at Korihor, nods, then offers a small smirk. "It's possible yer friends are done with their pursuit... or, they could be lookin' fer a better chance to grab ye. And... now they'll be wantin' revenge on us as well. Sooo yeah, I'm a touched concerned."
Korihor stares at her feat, and mumbles. "They aren't my friends." She looks at her hand. It is trembling. She shakes it out, and clenches it into a fist, taking a steadying breath.
Friends, foes, whatever they may be, we are all a part of this now. Kierana idly traces the outline of the tablecloth's design, and looks pointedly at Korihor, then at Twist. I think we have a right to know what "this" is.
Then her voice softens slightly. And for my part, anyone who would treat a person as they treated you would earn my ire regardless.
Brand walks over and places a calming hand on Korihor's arm. Looking up at her, he offers a comforting smile. "I meant no disr'spect, but rather ironic sarcasm at these strangers who obviously had a vested interested in gettin' a hold of ye. Mark me words, I'll not let 'em take ye."
Korihor smiles worriedly at Brand.
"Now now, calm down. I haven't involved your mother in any blasted thing, Starset. She was simply kind enough to offer me a cup while I waited for you lot to show up." After a moment, Twist stands up, wincing as he pushes himself off of the stool with his injured arm. "As your recently kidnapped friend can attest, I am not working against you here. If it hadn't been for that damned dwarf..." he mutters, rubbing the clearly still bleeding wound on his arm.
"My point is, I'm not here to threaten you, or your family. I know as little about what's going on as you lot, but my employer is quite interested in what is sure to cause a bit of an upheaval in Absalom; this Last Disciple fellow. And, like it or not, she--" he says, one finger pointing towards Korihor, "--is an important part of this puzzle."
Zeph sighs tiredly and sits down at the table. "Okay, you're right. I apologize, you have our attention. Do we get to know who this mysterious employer of yours is? And Korihor doesn't seem to know why they are after her, but do you? Are we only in this mess because we helped her? Not that I am complaining mind you, I would never have done anything else."
"Soooooo we need to do what? Hide her? Act as bodyguards? If she," he says, pointing to Korihor, "is the key to all this, then why doesn't she know, or won't tell?"
"I'm not a puzzle piece!" Korihor says, her frustration obvious. She gestures at Ahto, "Or a key. I want nothing to do with these people."
"And yet, here we are." Pyrrha mutters to herself.
"And I'm grateful." Korihor says, addressing the room. She purses her lips, and looks down at the floor, speaking quietly. "I think."
Your exuberance is quite reassuring, darling. Kierana smiles witheringly at Korihor, then turns back to Twist. So, what is your employer's interest in the Last Disciple?
Brand looks skeptically at Twist "...and what does your employer want from us?"
"My employer... finds the Last Disciple interesting. The man claims to be the first priest of Aroden to wield his magic in over 100 years. That, my friends, is a game changer." Twist shrugs, looking to Korihor. "And for that matter? So is she. Don't ask me why, he hasn't told me. Not high enough pay grade, I'd expect."
"As for what he wants from you? Nothing, at the moment. I've taken a bit of initiative. She's important, and you helped her. That's something, at the very least."
Zeph sighs tiredly and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Where do we go from here then?"
Pyrrha stands up and steps to where she can eye Twist, "So why are you here? You said you had business to talk with us, yet you've only pointed out the obvious problem we have stepped into by helping an important person that seems incapable of defending herself and resents that she needed us in the first place. Get to the point of you being here, if it isn't your employer that wants something, then what is it YOU want?"
Looking stunned, seemingly oblivious to everyone else in the room, Korihor mouths, "Important? No..." She shakes her head in denial, her eyes shiny.
"Only somebody who's rich, powerful, or influential gets kidnapped," Ahto replies. "You are one of those things. Otherwise, they would have simply cut your throat or blown your head off."
He looks at her with scrutiny; trying to read her expressions and body language.