Unafe smiles and nods at the introduction, and Tuturutanga pokes his head out to to flash a mouth full of needle teeth as well.
"May your ancestors never be far, Simon. I'm...sorry we weren't here sooner."
The man manages a very bitter smile, the incredible pain of his stripped arm held at bay for a time by the healing magic of Unafe. "As much as I appreciate your help, you've made a mistake. More will come. They will kill you for this."
"It's not like we weren't under constant threat of death anyway," Nicholas says. "The Shroud aren't exactly tolerant of heretics. And by the time they send reinforcements, you'll be on the way out of the city with Diana. Hopefully."
"Speaking of constant fear of death," Cai'nan speaks up, "I suggest we do something with these bodies and get somewhere a bit less...illegal, to continue further discussions."
"Might as well dump them in the sewer with the others. We'll be heading in that direction anyway," Ciervo says as he wipes off his daggers. The operation had wound up being a little... messier, than intended. With the rush of battle gone, he was eager to leave. "Anyone have a safehouse?"
Nicholas helps Simon get to his feet. "My house should still be safe for now, as long as no one revealed my identity to the Shroud. But I suggest that we don't stay there for too long, just in case."
"OK then, Nicholas, let us walk as quickly as Simon's legs will allow."
While the conversation is taking place Salla will be stripping the corpses of anything worth checking, leaving it in a pile for those with Detect magic.
She then repeats her work with the other bodies, slitting their bellies and dumping them in the deepest water she can find in the sewer.
She also regathers her bolts, even the broken ones to clear the area of any traces of herself.
Among the dead, Salla finds and piles a few useful items, should you want to take them.
The alchemist carried:
a suit of masterwork leather armor, a portable alchemy kit, a masterwork darkwood quarterstaff, a dagger, and a formula book.
1st - detect secret doors, cure light wounds, adhesive spittle, see alignment, true strike, comprehend languages
2nd - blur, cure moderate wounds, delay poison
3rd - haste
He also carried a pair of spectacles, hidden in a pocket of his white coat.
The inquisitor carried a spiked chain, a suit of breastplate, and a small case that carries a set of what look like torture tools.
In addition, he carried two scrolls,
and two vials of some disgusting-looking ichor.
Unafe watches Salla quizzically as she again deals efficiently with the bodies. Is this something I will someday be used to? Do I want to be?
While the quiet killer does her business, Unafe summons the aura-sight that allows her to identify and read magics. Once again, as she looks them over, she seems to listening to an unheard voice as well. "Spectacles that help read unknown languages and detect forgeries. Scrolls to open locked doors. And this, poison--a hauwarea's weapon--can wear away the drinker's wisdom." She frowns.
Unafe is perfectly happy to leave the poison behind, though she won't stop someone from taking it.
The party (plus Simon, their rescued cleric) rush out of the raided temple of Zon-Kuthon, back down into the sewer system, and perform a quick walk over to Nicholas' apartment, which has its quiet and nice clealiness marred by the smell of a half-dozen sewer-soiled people and a man with blood gushing out of his arm like a river rushing from a broken dam. Simon's face is waxen and sweaty when they reach the apartment, and it is clear he is weak from blood loss.
Skinning of entire body parts isn't something that traditional healing spells are meant to handle, so it will be very difficult to ensure Simon's health without something more powerful or something more drastic, and Simon breathlessly explains this in between gasps of pain.
Taking a moment to catch his breath, Cai'nan eventually says, "Okay. Someone care to be the first to actually explain what is going on, except me?"
As they settle back into the relative safety of Nicholas' apartment, Unafe looks around at those about her. All older than me. All pale Avistanis. This is their world, not mine...but then does mine even exist anymore?
Seated on a wooden stool, the tall, skinny Mwangi girl takes a breath to collect herself. If it wasn't clear before, in the light of the apartment it's obvious she's no more than seventeen years old. The grey-white clay stripes on her face are smudged. Even tired as she is, her near-black skin is radiant. She has taken off Nicholas' cloak so her orange-and-yellow robes are clearly visible, as are the saurian teeth sewn into their seams. Tuturutanga hops up into her lap and she begins to pet the little saurian.
So much suspicion on peoples' faces here. Very well, let me speak first.
"Perhaps each of us understands part of the puzzle. I have no idea why you two--"she nods at Cai'nan and Osborne"--knew about me, let alone were interested in protecting me, but I thank you.
"As I've said, I am Unafe Rua-Ngakau. Unafe Two-Hearted, in the Taldan tongue you use. I...I am a shaman of the Goapeke, the Dwellers With the Great Saurians. I am rare among our shamans, in that--according to prophecy--I was born with both my own and an Ancestor Heart. One that would reveal itself to me around the first arrival of my monthly blood. All said it was so...and yet..." She takes a sharp breath and then changes course abruptly.
"I was born and raised to protect my people, and to keep the artifact we call the Mata Herea from being used for evil. I believe you call it the Bound Blade. It was made from the last remaining claw of the unholy dragon Kazavon, and prevents his return." She pauses, self-recrimination clouding her face. "A few months ago, pale-faced killers dressed in black invade our sacred lands, hunting for the Mata Herea. I...my Ancestor Heart had still not revealed itself. Without it, we knew our best chance was to flee into the jungle, in all directions.
"My mentor, Old Aye--"she casts a glance at the wounded cleric"--he had a new vision for me, a message from our eldest ancestors that I could perhaps find out why my Ancestor Heart spurns me, and perhaps still complete our people's sacred charge, if I traveled to this cold, dark land. I arrived but yesterday, feverish. I'm afraid I nearly died on the street. Nicholas took me in and nursed me back to health. When I heard that his friend was in danger, I knew I had to return his kindness with my own.
"That is all I know, I'm afraid. The Mata Herea's exact location is unknown even to my people, but I fear in my bones that these cruel torturers who worship the darkness and fail to note the stars, or the voices of the Ancestors singing to fill the void--that these people may now have it in their possession."
She shudders and looks down.
Cai'nan listens quietly as Unafe speaks.
Well. That's quite a story.
"Well, Cai'nan's the name, Unafe, ma'am. And my employers hired me to keep you safe, so I suppose until I get a different assignment, you can count on my help with this Mata Hary."
Nicholas's garments shimmer and change into dark grey formal clothes, the spiked armor disappearing under the illusionary haze. His face seems to melt off as he dismisses his disguise spells once their safely inside his home and he pulls down his hood. He gets Simon to the guest room so he can lie down on the bed and get some rest. Healing was never one of his talents, so he can do little to help his friend's suffering. "If someone could help me and bandage Simon's arm so he doesn't bleed out while we're talking, I would greatly appreciate it."
He fetches some clean linens and water for everyone while they're talking. At the very least, he can be a decent host. "As for myself, I am Nicholas Tyrel. I've been the inside man in the Umbral Court for the Scion of Dou-Bral for years now. We have a different view of Zon-Kuthon than most of Nidal and we're not terribly popular for it. As for my role in this..." He shrugs. "I simply acted like a decent person and helped someone in need. But I fear that if someone in the Umbral Court is hunting the Bound Blade, it cannot end well. And that's more than enough reason to get involved. It seems we're in danger of being exposed anyway, so my time undercover may be done regardless."
Unafe calls to her ancestors for guidance and then looks over the wounded cleric more closely, trying to determine what he needs.
Simon gratefully sinks into Nicholas' guest bed, shuddering with pain, but falling into an uneasy unconsciousness.
The Procurer, badly bruised and battered from the battle with the Silent Shroud, nods at Cai'nan's statement. "What he said." he says. "We represent a group that would prefer you live, but we're not sure why. Only that you were important, and that you had information for us."
Unafe frowns at Cai'nan and the Procurer. "So your employer cares that I stay alive, at least for now...but you're not sure why? Who is this employer, anyway? I admit the name isn't likely to mean sonething to "
Turning to Ciervo and Salla, she adds, "And are you two just two friends out for a stroll, who happened to see a battle that looked fun?
"You Nidalese are frustratingly tight lipped!" As the young shaman gets vexed, her compsagnathus stands up on her lap, glancing about nervously with it's feathery 'fur' standing up.
"I am not Nidalese," Cai'nan says disgustedly.
As they hide out in Nicholas's apartment, Ciervo makes it a point to check the windows every other minute. Their getaway seemed clean, but one could never be certain. While it was obvious that Simon required immediate medical attention, he tries not to pay the priest's bloody arm any mind.
"I do not know anything about all of that," the dhampir says of Unafe's story. It was only a partial lie, as the part about Kazavon rang familiar. He goes on, gesturing at Simon. "It is this one that drew our attention. The Silent Shroud seemed rather vested in finding him. We were to assess the situation at the temple and only strike if the opportunity presented itself." With that, he smiles crookedly at Nicholas.
Salla just nods in agreement with Cievro, it's clear she isn't going to speak. She's positioned herself where she can cover the door and windows.
Her mismatched eyes just follow whoever is talking without her adding anything.
Unafe bites her lip. "Well, the situation with Simon is that he's going to lose his arm--unless any of you know someone who can cast regenerate? Otherwise...it's getting toward time to amputate. I'll do it if I have to but it's risky. If there's someone more experienced to do so, he'll have a better chance of pulling through this.
"So, my silent suspicious companions, I don't know anyone in this miserable country but you. Do you know someone who can help here? Or do I pray to my ancestors and his, and then see if he's fortunate enough to live another day?"
"There's nothing else to be done then?" Nicholas looks down at his friend sadly. "I'm not really trained as a healer. More the opposite really..."
"OK then, here's what we do." despite being by far the youngest person in the room, Unafe takes on a compellingly commanding tone. It's clear she's used to being listened to. "Ciervo, I saw how sharp your knife is. Let's see if it can heal as well as harm. Run it through fire to cleanse it, and then wash it thoroughly. I'll use it to perform the amputation.
"Nicholas, I'll need as many clean rags or linens as you can find. Some strong alcohol would be a boon as well. Then once I start to work, you stay by Simon's head. Hold it gently. Talk reassuringly. See if you can help him find what calm he may during this.
"Salla and Cai'nan, you two will be holding him down. If he starts to struggle, make sure that his arm stays still, no matter what."
Once everything is in place, Unafe prays to her ancestors for guidance, ties a tourniquet at the top of Simon's arm, and begins the bloody work.
Please, grandmothers, crowd around and help me guide this man back to health.
"I don't drink much, but I have some wine. That will have to do." The pale man hurries out of the room and comes back with several clean towels and a bottle of deep red wine. "Simon, if you can hear me, I need you to relax as much as you can." He holds the man's shoulders down so he doesn't start thrashing if he wakes up.
Cai'nan looks, for the first time, somewhat nervous. "I've seen this sort of thing done, but never been one to help...I'll do my best."
He steps over and cautiously puts his hands on the man. "Don't make this too hard on us, buddy."
Salla places her hands on the patient and firmly,but carefully holds him down.
Ciervo did not know what surprised him more about Unafe; her commanding tone, or her willingness to perform a potentially fatal medical procedure. He looks to Simon, wondering what the old priest's opinion on having his arm lopped off is. It would not do them much good to have him die after all the effort they took to rescue him.
"All right," he says simply, taking out his mundane dagger. It was not as sharp as his magical one, but it was still exceptionally well-crafted. Besides, the ice enchantment on its companion would likely kill Simon outright. He sets out to sterilize the blade as instructed, having often taken such measures with his tools.
Salla.
The whole group works together in the quiet solitude of Nicholas' apartment, with Unsafe taking the lead. She carefully carves his arm away at the shoulder, trying her best to limit muscle damage and trying not to cut too deeply. The rest of the party holds Simon down as he wakes up and tries to weakly thrash, and adds helpful advice occasionally.
After about ten minutes, the disgusting bundle of muscles that was Simon's arm lays on a nearby table, and Unafe has scabbed the stump over with a charge from her cure wand. The night is peaceful and still now, and Simon fitfully dozes, still not quite able to wake up.
Nicholas breathes a sigh of relief when they finally finish the gruesome operation. While it's certainly not the worst thing he's ever seen, he's also never had to personally witness one of his friends under the knife in such a way and he can't help worrying for his life. He pulls the bloody sheets away and replaces them entirely so Simon has a clean bed to sleep on while he slowly recovers. "I invite anyone who needs a place to stay to sleep here for the evening. I'm afraid there's not many beds, but I have enough blankets to at least make the floor in the sitting room comfortable."
Nicholas doesn't have a lot of room in his apartment, but it's nighttime and not very safe for people to go out again... even when those people are daring rebels. Nicholas pulls out a number of pillows and blankets and sets up his guest room and sitting room to house all of the strange adventurers. Though Simon gets the guest bed, sweaty and feverish and moaning in his unconsciousness.
Nobody comes to pound rudely on Nicholas' door, and the remainder of the night and morning pass uneventfully as the party sleeps the bruises from their adventures away.
Unafe feels a nagging feeling at the edge of her mind as she sleeps... A connection to another mind, another spirit. However, whatever knowledge she managed to glean while asleep falls away with the clarity of wakefulness.
Simon wakes up early in the morning, and begins to moan. He calls out weakly, "Nicholas, Nicholas. You have to stop them. They're going to get the Crown of Thorns."
Nicholas allows one of the others, he doesn't particularly care which one, to use his bedroom for the night while he stays with Simon to watch him, just in case he takes a turn for the worse. "Simon. Simon, you're having a nightmare. Simon, can you hear me?" The name of the Crown of Thorns makes him stop dead. "Oh dear..." He hurries downstairs to see if anyone else is awake. It seems like they have important matters to discuss.
Simon nods, a tear going down his wrinkled face. "No, Nicholas. We're all having a nightmare. The Midnight Lord slips farther from redemption. Those who would see the world kneel act. Guardians of rightness are hunted. Something must be done."
Cai'nan "slept" near his ward, sitting in a chair and leaning against his polearm. He didn't like being surrounded by people so tight lipped, but sometimes, in countries like this, he supposed such things might be commonplace...
"And we're going to have to be the ones to do it, aren't we?" Nick mutters. "I'll see if the others are awake and if any of them know anything helpful."
Once Nicholas has gathered everyone to stand over Simon's prone form in Nicholas' bed, bandages covering the man's arm-stump already red with blood, he begins to explain why he was captured and interrogated by the Silent Shroud and the Umbral Court. His voice is soft, so it is necessary to lean in close to hear him, but his diction is otherwise clear. "Two nights ago, a man came by the temple. He had heard that it was a safe place to be if you wished to escape the notice of the government. My acolytes and I allowed him to stay the night, for we had no official meeting and it would not disrupt anything. This man, he called himself Jo, said that he had business in Nidal. I... I pressed him a bit, asked him to explain why he was here. I explained our belief in the return of Dou-Bral, and our cult's attempt to soften Nidal."
Simon coughs, obviously still weak from the ordeal of the previous day. "He... He told me that we were on the same side, and that he was simply going to receive a friend in the Conquerer's Bay."
"Please. The men who came to the Temple today were looking for him. Said it was a matter of national security. Something big is happening, and I fear that there are not enough people of strong heart and good purpose to ensure that it becomes a change for the better. Go to the Conquerer's Bay. Find whoever is coming in to Nidal. If you can, help them bring a better future to our country."
A light sleeper by necessity, Ciervo wakes promptly when beckoned by Nicholas.
"So he was already gone by the time we got there. Before the Silent Shroud got there, for that matter," Ciervo clarifies after Simon tells his story. So he was not our person of interest after all, he thinks, looking to the old man. Not that it mattered - leaving him to die had not exactly been an option.
After a momentary pause, he asks, "This man, Jo. Do you believe he has some connection to Kazavon?"
The man wrinkles his nose. "Kazavon...?" he mumbles. "I am not sure. That legendary dragon's return would be tragic and huge. I have heard tales of suspicious events in the hinterlands of our country. Nothing he did reminded me of Kazavon, however."
"We'll need to hurry then. I very much doubt that the Shroud will let up if this man is that important. And I dread what fate will befall the entire world if Kazavon returns to his full power. I'm going to contact Diana and see if she knows anything about this arrival, then arrange to get you somewhere far away from Nidal."
Unafe sobs with relief when she is finally confident that she hasn't killed the tortured cleric. She sits over Simon without speaking for a long time, and then pulls her coats around herself at the foot of her patient's bed and falls asleep.
Her dreams are fitful, and she wakes exasperated that--once again--she's sure there's something she can't grasp. Something taunting her with it's closeness...and her repeated failure to understand it.
As Simon speaks, Unafe glances at Nicholas and asks, "Did they...did they gather any other information from you? And did anyone to your knowledge escape with that information?"
As the conversation moves on, something continues to nag at her. "Simon, as you awoke you mumbled something about 'They're going to get the Crown of Thorns'. What did you mean? Is there something else you know?"
Simon gulps, realizes that his throat is dry, asks for a cup of water. When it is brought for him, he drinks greedily before taking a big gasp and responding. "Diana is safe? Thank the Midnight Lord." she reaches for his elbow to scratch before realizing it's not there and sighs. "Their inquisitor utilized a sending to send information to his superiors, but I don' think he said anything about anyone or anything other than Jo and his destination. Twenty-five word limit is harsh."
"As for the Crown... Well, it is a relic of ancient times, forged and empowered by our very Midnight Lord. Its fangs lie in the gullet of one of his most powerful servants, and after, it was forged into a crown and worn on the head of Korvosa's last Queen, Ileosa Arabasti." he sighs. "It's gone missing, but according to Jo, his friend knows where it is."
"Please, Nicholas, will you go and see about this? It may endanger us all."
Unafe feels her hands grow clammy and dread creep up the back of her neck as Simon speaks of the Crown, and the fact that it has gone missing recently.
"It...it was my duty to protect the Bound Blade and I failed. If the Crown is connected, and if someone's after it too--perhaps this is why the ancestors guided me to this dreary realm. I must go."
She pauses and looks at the others. "I assume we're all still in this together, my tight-lipped friends? In that case, let's get going. Before we leave, I will ask my ancestors to commune with the ancestors who dwell here. They may well have insights that can aid us."
Unafe sits on the floor and Tuturutanga curls up in her lap. The shaman places her hands on the dinosaur's head and then chants some in her native strain of Polyglot. Then her eyes roll back into her head and she starts to twitch silently. A minute later she opens her eyes again.
"Of course," Nicholas promises without hesitation. "I'll do everything in my power to help him. And the sooner the crown is in hands other than those of the Umbral Court, the better. If anyone has something they need to do, I suggest they do it quickly. I'm leaving for Conqueror's Bay as soon as Unafe is done her casting. I need to meet Diana at the port as soon as possible." He quickly mutters in Shadowtongue, weaving his hands in the air and shifting his face into a gruff looking man with a scraggly beard. His armor shifts appearance, transforming into nondescript leathers.
Cai'nan pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. "Well, until further notice, it would seem you two will have to put up with me. But can we avoid taking too many unnecessary risks?"
"Avoiding trouble is my specialty. As long as we're careful, we may be able to outright avoid any of the guards."
The Procurer nods. "My place is here, in the city. I am to keep a watch on the events here. If any of you need a safe place to stay while you are foiling the government, my safe house is available to you. I have to stay and show my real face, though, or it may be suspicious."
Simon smiles gratefully, falling back to sleep. The Procurer promises to look after him while you fetch Diana, and Nicholas heads out to meet his halfling smuggler friend. His magical disguise is excellent, and nobody stops or questions him as he heads over to the docks. Diana is happy to see him when they reach each other, and she lets him know that she's spent the money creating a nook for Simon to go in on a ship headed over to Riddleport. Though the city isn't particularly ordered, it will be much safer. Nobody going after you specifically. She brings a carriage back to Nicholas' house, and they help the tired and armless cleric into it, saying goodbye.
When Nicholas asks Diana about ports in the Conquerer's Bay, she hums. "There's no towns out there, nothing big or real anyway." she says. "Lots of nooks and crannies and little harbors. If I had to guess... it's smugglers you're going to meet out there."
Unafe casts her spell, and receives a series of visions, whisperings in her ear, and mental pictures that paint something of a picture for her regarding a few topics.
'-cousin headed up North. Nothing good in that-' '-ush, darling. Dangerous to talk that w-'
'' '-supposed to be a dangerous criminal out and about, honey, don't-'
'-a cleric of Shelyn once. We shared a meal. Thinks she still sees something good in Our L-' '-supposed to carry two curved blades, smell like brimstone-'
'' '-my dearest, never forget not ever to mention Dou-Bral when the Shr-'
'-the notice? Said a reward of fifty gold if you report-' '-seen a few ports when riding along the road, but never-'
'-didn't he want to be a god of love no m-' '-only smugglers, monsters, criminals and exiles head up th-'
The area of the Conquerer's Bay where there will be bays and docks, the inhabited area where the terrain makes for good boat landings, is about a day's horse ride away, or about two and a half days' walk. It's a trip North along the oceanside road, and since you don't have an exact location, you'll need to be checking the coastline for docks.