"And what is your cut"?
Adriana is looking her over to see if there is anything out of place in appearance or behavior...
Khalaban nodded, moving to take control of the wagon. It wasn't likely sized for either Vixie or Maxilla.
The madame herself, on the other hand, is definitely suspicious. This talk of discretion and doing anything a client asks are a couple of red flags she's raised--and considering the doorman was definitely afraid of her, you've got a suspicion that she treats the sex workers in her employ much the same way.
Something is definitely wrong with her.
"A twenty-percent cut, with the rest going in your pocket." Madame Irina replies.
"That sounds very fair...the Calistrians took that on top of what the house took for 'protection'and 'tithe'. Those people aren't a factor here? Anyway it sounds good. When can I start?"
"If you think he's been hounding you, just imagine what it's been like locally. ESPECIALLY with the other concerns going on. I just hope it's fresh enough that he doesn't take it out of my hide. The last time I was needing salves for days." the 'halfling' offers to the delivering captain.
Max will move out of the way to prevent problems with being crushed by a dropped crate or whatnot and then either hop onto or walk next to the wagon when the delivery is ready to move.
The madame shakes her head. "No, Calistria has no clergy here."
"As to when you can start--" Madame Irina starts, but the sound of the office door opening.
"They're here, Madame Irina." Javier returns, poking his head into the office with a nervous expression. "Two of them."
The madame nods. "Good." She turns back to you. "I do believe you'll be starting immediately."
-------------------
Khalaban takes the reins of the delivery wagon as the dockworkers finish putting the last two crates of product into the back. A dark tarp is thrown across the back to cover them up.
"Give Egarthis my regards!" The captain calls out to the wagon as it trundles away from the docks and into the night.
Khalaban waved a hand and drove until they were out or sight...and then took the cart straight to the Marshal.
Vixie, who has never actually ridden on such a cart before, giggles and sings a little Sylvan song as they go.
The ride back to Forest Marshal Gavirk's station is uneventful. A couple of people give the wagon only the briefest of glances before disappearing into the night.
When the marshal emerges, his eyebrow almost arches off of his head. "Oh! What's this, now?"
----------------------
The madame leads you out of the office and back into the foyer of the brothel. There are three women and two men standing at attention along one wall, all of them dressed provocatively. Two grey-robed men in iron masks are observing them and quietly whispering amongst themselves.
"Gentlemen? Would you object to a sixth for your evening?" The madame asks, putting on a smile that comes all too easily to her face. "I have a new hire for you--and she's quite interested in working tonight."
The two masked cultists turn to you and start to approach.
"Whatever the cult was delivering. Maxilla very cleverly managed to talk them into giving them to us." Khalaban gestured to the wagon. "We didn't stop to look."
Adriana will walk over to the group and says,"Ooo Masks! How mysterious."
The forest marshal grins. "Well then. Let's see what they've been wanting, shall we?"
He gestures for the team to get off the cart before yanking off the tarp. "Lads! Get out here and start hauling these crates out!"
Several guards trickle in and start to unload the wagon. Gavirk walks up to one crate and opens it up.
Inside the crate are several stacks of sticky black blocks that give off an aroma of curdled milk and salt. The forest marshal's eyes light up.
"Well, I'll be damned. We've hit ourselves a jackpot. Refined pesh."
---------------------
The two cultists look you over, taking in your curves and attributes with an appraising eye.
After about a minute of examination, they move on to the other workers and inspect them too. Once their inspections are complete, they clap their hands. "These ones will do quite nicely."
"Good." Madame Irina turns and glares at the assembled workers. "You have five minutes to finish whatever preparations you need to make. If you're late, it'll come out of your commission. MOVE!" She barks and the workers scatter to a few rooms in the back of the brothel.
She catches one by the hand before she's able to escape--a red-headed, half-elven woman with a smattering of freckles on her unblemished face. Her deep blue eyes are wide with fear. "Lyrienne. Escort Miss Ashandra here to your room and let her use some of your cosmetics. I want both of you to look so f&@~able that even Abadar would be tempted. Understand?"
Lyrienne meekly nods. "Y-yes, Madame."
Madame Irina waves the two of you off without another word. Lyrienne takes you by the hand and hurries you off to her room.
"Somehow I don't feel like this much would be for religious purposes," Khalaban noted dryly. "I suppose this does explain how they managed to fund there good works here."
Adriana look over at the cosmetics..,she all ready did her make up...but a few touch ups would not hurt...
"So I take it Madame Irina is one of those bosses... she pauses as she touches up her lipstick,"So what can you tell me about these clients?"
"THAT'S putting it lightly, I think." Gavirk snorts. "Well, this is definitely more than enough to put them away."
The crates are soon unloaded from the cart. "Do you have a plan to get inside, then?"
-----------------------
Lyrienne starts hastily putting her own make-up on, only meeting your eyes through the mirror the two of you share.
"They're part of the Living God's cult. They're lecherous, conniving, sleazy bastards. And..." She winces. "...they like to, well... 'play rough'."
"Our current Madame loves them."
"D-do you th-think they'd l-let us in if we ask p-politely? M-Mama always said p-please was a m-magic word, a-and I never d-did learn much m-magic b-but I d-did learn th-that one..." says the kitling.
Smiling at Vixie's rather innocent idea, the bulky Kineticist suggested instead, "Perhaps we can use Maxilla's idea once more," Khalaban noted toughtfully. "If we can borrow those crates once the drugs have been unloaded, we can perhaps bluff our way inside."
"It'd help hide some of us that stick out, and we could bring in any number of watch-people as well. That way we could secure areas of their mini-fortress and have a staging area to operate from inside." Maxilla offers helpfully.
"How rough? I mean I kinda like it a little rough...there this half-orc adventuress back in Absalom..." she give a warm smile in memory..."Is the Madame part of this cult?"
Gavirk listens to Maxilla and nods. "That sounds like a good idea."
He turns to a nearby aide. "Lars! Fetch me Davison, Omalia, Thorne, Speier and Galek."
The aide nods and disappears into the station, returning after a few minutes. The last of the crates is unloaded and its contents taken inside by the time the aide returns with five guards in tow. They're all clad in brown leathers and green tabards, wielding a long sword and a large wooden shield on their backs.
"This is Davison." Gavirk gestures to one of the privates: a blond man with a tightly-trimmed chin-strap beard.
"This is Omalia." The marshal points to a brown-skinned young woman with a neatly-tied ponytail of black hair.
"This is Thorne." He points to a nervous-looking half-elven man with black hair and pale skin.
"This is Speier." The marshal introduces a bored-looking woman with red hair in a military bun.
"And this is Galek." Finally, Gavirk points to a young-looking half-orc man with slightly-grey skin and a crew cut.
"They'll be joining you for this mission. Brief them on your plan of attack."
---------------------
Lyrienne winces. "...rough. And they don't like hearing the word 'no'."
"I think Irina is part of their cult. If she's not, then she's definitely one of their biggest backers."
"Interesting...you said she is the current Madamn...is she new?"
Lyrienne nods. "Yes, she's only been here for a couple of months. But since she arrived, we've pretty much been stuck with the cult of Razmir."
She finishes applying her makeup. "I don't know what happened to our old madame--she was a much nicer boss... she looked out for us."
Vixie blushes, looking between Omalia and Speier.
"Y-you're both v-very pretty, M-Miss and M-Miss," she squeaks.
Maxilla hops up onto a large crate so they can see eye-to-eye with the bulk of the team.
"I'm Maxilla Dragonspite, follower of the Waybringer. We've been tracking this organization since they robbed a tomb in Kassen Township, and they have a couple of sacred items that were taken from a place of rest there. It is our hope to recover them as well as bring the criminals to justice."
"The plan is basic enough. We're going to 'bring in the shipment'. We're going to be late no matter how we cut it, so those of us who are doing the talking will be wearing some of the confiscated masks and robes... and only doing this long enough to get us past the gates. As they are expecting a shipment, getting past the gates should be the easy part." Maxilla begins, in an almost lecture-y tone.
"Your team is going to secure a base of operations within the citadel, and if possible, secure the gates so that we can make a full arrest of the rest of the drug dealers. Given that they are using less-than-reputable means of gaining 'worshippers', it is the hope that at least some of them are misguided, but we will not know that until we process them. While your team is maintaining a secure location to stage from, our team will progress further into the fortress to look for any further evidence as well as the leadership of the team to take into custody."
There's a bit of a pause.
"Given that it will be a significant blow to their organization, we can expect armed resistance and potentially lethal force on the part of the Razmirans. Stay sharp and if any resist arrest, perform your jobs as necessary."
Max's tone for that last bit seems a bit distasteful, but hopefully conveys the pertinent information.
"We may also have an agent on the inside who is being brought in for 'human procreation recreation' activities. It is unlikely that she will have a mask, but keep an eye out. She is a genie-born human."
Khalaban smiled a little as Vixie tried to pick up additional girlfriends, and listened to Maxilla's speech. It was impressive.
The assembled team listens attentively to Maxilla as he speaks, with Davison looking rather quizzically at the kobold and Galek visibly happy. Omalia gives Vixie a little smile, but Speier is paying close attention to Maxilla's words and pays the kitling no mind.
"This agent--" Thorne clears his throat. "--will we need to supply her with any gear when we meet up with her?"
-------------------
Lyrienne gets up from the mirror and hurries out to get into the lineup.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen." One of the cultists starts, his voice a low, slow drawl. "You know how this works. Single file, into the carriage."
"And, do be quick about it. We're already running late." The two cultists step outside. A large, black carriage drawn by two white horses is parked outside of the Crimson Club, its doors opened. The interior of the carriage has comfortable-enough cushions of dark velvet.
The five prostitutes file into the carriage, some of them looking very reluctant to do so.
"At this time we are working on the assumption that she'll be equipped with basic clothing and perhaps a holdout weapon such as a dagger. An extra set of leathers probably wouldn't hurt for at least some protection, though." Maxilla notes, then pats a bag. "This is the sum of the gear she left behind with us when she went on her fact-finding mission, it isn't too heavy."
Adriana follows the rest of the prostitutes inside the carriage...
Khalaban nodded at Maxilla's words. "I shall carry her equipment, but if you have spare weaponry and we are not with you then please, do help arm her. She is a finesse fighter and a spellcaster."
The crew nods. "Right. Let's get ready, then."
Gavirk turns back to the other guards. "You heard 'em, men. Empty those crates and take everything inside. You all know where they're supposed to go--if I catch any of you sneaking any 'evidence' away for yourselves, you'll be jailed on the spot. GET TO IT!"
The other guards start hurrying to get all the confiscated pesh inside. It takes some time before all the crates have been emptied. Once every crate has had its contents removed, there are a few crates big enough to hide a few humanoids of average size.
----------------------
The carriage ride is quiet and cramped. The cobblestones cause the carriage to wobble and bump uncomfortably as the ride goes on. A few worried whispers go through the assembled workers, but none of them make a move to escape--it's difficult to say whether they'd succeed, given how tightly packed in everyone is.
Eventually, the carriage rides into the woods on the north side of town, along a dusty dirt road. The ride smooths out a bit, but the darkness around the carriage does little to soothe the workers' worries.
About twenty minutes pass before the temple comes into view through the tangled trees. The Temple of Razmir is a tall stone structure, rectangular in shape and unabashedly ornate in design. Gargoyles carved in the shape of the priests' masks dot the corners of the building, each of them staring down at the approaching carriage in silent judgement. An elaborate stained-glass window is above the temple's doors, depicting a man wearing an opulent, hooded robe of gold and black, with a porcelain mask obscuring his features. Surrounding him are mountains of gold and jewels.
The carriage pulls into the temple's courtyard and stops. A few seconds pass before one of the priests gets down from the driver's seat and opens the carriage door. "And here we are. As always, follow closely behind me--"
"Oi!" Calls out a voice from the wall above the courtyard. "You got any idea when the other wagon's supposed to show up?"
The priest sighs and grumbles before looking back up at the wall. "What, did it not arrive yet?"
"No, just your carriage, Master."
The priest pauses before turning back to the workers. "Alright, follow me closely. Don't stray."
Adriana stretches seductively when she gets out of the carriage and says to the Priest,"So like this my first time out here so how is this party organized...is it like a orgy? Are we going to assigned to somebody...or is there going to be mingling?"
Khalaban helped empty out the crates. He was not a clever man, even if he had a certain floweryness to his speech, so it felt good to do something like heavy lifting for a bit. Something that was simple and easy enough to do.
Vixie—once given some clear instructions—is quite helpful in unloading as well! Once the crates are empty, she chambers into one.
She seems a little too good at squeezing in.
"You'll see." The priest replies, his tone curt.
He and his fellow priest usher you and the workers inside, hurrying you up the courtyard's stone steps and through the grand double doors.
Grand tapestries depicting the might and power of Razmir hang from the walls of the long vestibule beyond, and a richly embroidered carpet runs down the center. Opposite the large doors leading outside is a pair of tall, slender doors, with a gigantic silver mask emblazoned on the front. A pair of smaller doors is set into the north and south walls. A flickering green light plays throughout this chamber from masked sconces that run along the walls. A pair of white-robed, masked priests stands on either side of the interior double doors. Their heads turn to look at the gathered workers as the senior priests lead you through a door to the south, through a sparsely-decorated meeting room, past a violet silk curtain and down another stairway.
"I don't like this." Lyrienne whispers in your ear as you descend.
"Do they usually take prostitutes down this way?
Max carefully helped with the unloading process, while trying to figure out some way to be present and provide Khala guidance -- a kobold or even a 'halfling' was not going to be able to be convincing enough to dedicated gate guards.
"Khala, you're probably going to have to do the talking. I'll hide under the tarp to minimize my profile, and offer advice from there. Don't forget to wear your mask, and that our callsigns for the boat had to deal with stairs. More than likely it will be more of the same to get in."
Khalaban nodded slowly, making sure to slide the mask into position before it slipped his mind. He knew he had moments where his mind could be in other places. "I shall try to recall them, thank you." Perhaps he should be on the first ste[? Then he would not be expected to know quite as much, right?
Lyrienne shudders. "Yes, but never before the drugs arrive. I don't know what's going to happen now..."
The workers are led through an ornate-looking wooden door set in the east wall of the hallway at the base of the stairs. A single everburning torch in a sconce on the eastern wall provides light for this area, revealing a dusty, cobweb-ridden corridor. The stench of sweat and worse hangs in the air.
The senior priest takes the torch and leads the way onward, sliding what looks like an iron key from the folds of his robes. He then slides it into a keyhole beneath the torch sconce, twisting it a couple of times before it makes a *click*. When he withdraws it, the stonework next to the sconce recedes into the floor with a smooth *grinding* noise, revealing a small flight of stairs descending deeper into the darkness.
The passageway continues in a straight line for several feet before it opens up into the chamber at the end. The stale scent of perfume and incense wafts from this room as the door opens, revealing an opulent chamber with pillows, carpets, and other fineries covering the floor. Silk curtains hang over the walls, and flicking light emanates from a hidden source on the ceiling, which is also draped in curtains. On the north side of the room, a gilded throne, bedecked with tiny gemstones, sits upon a raised dais.
”Right.” The priest grumbles. ”You lot stay here, make yourselves comfortable. And perhaps… become better acquainted.” You can practically see his lecherous grin through his iron mask. ”I’m going to go back upstairs and see what’s taking our… delivery so long. Do not leave the room.”
With that, he turns on his heel and departs, closing the chamber door behind him.
Some of the workers begin to drift towards the room’s pillows, muttering nervously amongst themselves.
———————————
Once the infiltration team has packed themselves in boxes, the wagon sets off from the Forest Marshal station at a clip. The cobblestones cause the boxes in the back to rattle and jostle about, eliciting a few muffled grunts and curses from their cargo.
The forest path is dark and decidedly uninviting, but at least it’s a smoother ride than Tamran’s cobblestones. The trees surrounding the small dirt path seem to lean forward and loom over the wagon as it passes beneath their boughs. A breeze picks up, filling the air with the sound of rustling leaves and scraping branches.
Eventually, the path widens slightly and off in the distance is a tall stone structure, rectangular in shape and unabashedly ornate in design. Gargoyles carved in the shape of the priests' masks dot the corners of the building, each of them staring down at the approaching wagon in silent judgement. An elaborate stained-glass window is above the temple's doors, depicting a man wearing an opulent, hooded robe of gold and black, with a porcelain mask obscuring his features. Surrounding him are mountains of gold and jewels.
As the wagon approaches the structure’s courtyard, a voice calls out from the ramparts above. ”OI! What took you so bloody long?!”
One of the cultists, dressed in white robes and a white mask, leans over the side of the wall.
"Apologies!" Khalaban shouted up. "Took a little time to sort the cargo out so that everything was stable." It seemed like a good idea to avoid lying as much as possible since he was...not skilled at such duplicitous ways. He was certainly telling the truth, so long as he didn't mention the cargo had changed.
Adriana will take a look around the room...
The cultist grumbles. "Sort the cargo out--f&!~ing hell, how long do you THINK we've been waiting for this?! D'you know how much life SUCKS sober?!"
-----------------------
You see what looks like the outline of a door behind a curtain to the south.
Khalaban paused, and looked at the crates. "What, out here? Are you sure? It'll be a lot easier if you let me come in where people can't, you know, see the...secrets of the God." Khalaban shrugged in a way to suggest that unpacking a boatload of drugs in public was probably not a bad idea, but that he was a new recruit and wasn't too fussed. It wouldn't be his arse in a sling.
The cultist tilts his head at Khalaban. "Y-ugh, whatever. Just-just get inside. Get inside."
He disappears behind the wall. A few seconds pass before the gates to the compound gradually open.
Standing in the doorway to the temple is a grey-robed cultist, his mask a darker grey colour than the others. He motions for the wagon to enter.
Adriana goes over and sits on the throne..." So I am much more into women than men and I have a feeling that this going to be a sausage line up coming in here so does anyone want to help me get...ready?"
Khalaban was confused by the response, then he considered what had been said, realized that he sounded like he was still concussed, and mentally shrugged. They were probably used to people being a little out of it. He guided the cart inside.
Lyrienne looks between the corridor and you. Then she sidles up next to you and leans into you. "I'll be more than happy to."
Her tone is shaky.
----------------------
Dirt crunches beneath the wagon's wheels as it enters the courtyard, pulling up in front of the temple's doors. A few cultist acolytes emerge from the tower north of the courtyard gates, moving to the back of the wagon.
"It's about time you arrived." The supervising priest grumbles from beneath his mask. "I don't want to hear your excuses--just get the bloody crates unloaded. The sacrament was supposed to begin by now, and because of YOUR dawdling, the Living God is displeased." He spits the last word at Khalaban like an arrow. "Disrespect for the wishes of Razmir and His Faithful..." He *tsk-tsk-tsks*.
"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"
You hear the sounds of someone approaching the wagon. Several someones.
Khalaban did a wonderous impression of a deer caught in headlights as the man shouted at him. Technically, they were probably in well enough for the surprise attack to work and allow Khalaban to simply bonk the priest in the skull, but perhaps making sure all the containers were out and their lids loosened first would allow a more coordinated strike.
Bending at the waist in a rigid bow, Khalaban replied, "It is agony to me that I have displeased the Living God. I can only pray that he will allow me a chance to remain on the steps. Please, allow me to unload this cargo so the sacraments may begin." Khalaban began moving the boxes at speed, starting with the ones Vixie and Maxilla were in and cracking the lids.
”I-is that the s-signal?” asks a very small voice from one of the crates.
Adriana starts to make out with Lyrienne. But she keeps a eye on the obvious door and the hidden door.
Max, if their expression could be seen in the darker confines of the box, would be dumbfounded at Vixie's comment. Sure, she's said some dumb things in the past but the point of being stealthy and sneaky like this is to NOT be heard.
So they reach over and put a scaly finger over the halfling's mouth to 'sssh' her while remembering the counts in the blacksmith shop for the creation of their breastplate and Khala's armor, remembering what the smith said about timing each stroke and how often to turn a piece.
They then put a comforting hand on Vixie.
The remaining counts are for the timing of the crate to be put on the ground and be opened up... any second now....