Rutter smirks, and waits to see how the nutjob reacts to Neva's question.
The elf looks at Neva, and glowers at the holy symbol, her attitude is clearly haughty towards the woman compared to the more playful nature with the others, "Well, you pretentious old bag, whenever business is as pleasurable as this, or pleasure is your business, how do you even tell them apart?" She sneers, and looks Neva up and down, "But by the looks of you, Biddy, you probably never experienced pleasure in your life. You f!~#ing Pharasmins don't even know what fun is."
"Perhaps we don't. But that shouldn't matter to you. What matters to you is whether or not you got what you wanted. Obviously, the work was pleasurable enough, but only a mindless hedonist would do so much only for the momentary pleasure. And you don't strike me as a mindless hedonist. Unfettered by restrictive social mores; yes. Mindless and without larger purpose? No.
So, maybe that larger purpose is something an old woman like me can understand. Maybe not, but there's only one way to find out."
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"Alright. We'll try it your way, slut." Rutter steps across the room and smacks the killer across the face. "Answer the lady's questions, and we'll play a little each time. If you don't want to help us, you can sit in the corner in time out while we talk about, I don't know, the weather, or some boring crap."
Raliscar stomps off with a loud huff and crosses his arms as he paces back and forth a short distance away grumbling into his beard.
She rolls her eyes languidly, and yawns as Neva tries to cajole her into spilling the information they are looking for. When Rutter calls her a slut, she raises an eyebrow just in time to get a slap across the face. She flutters her lids, takes a deep breath, and moans briefly. "You can talk all you want, and little man is more than welcome to thrash me with his tiny limbs, but it's nothing when compared to my darling Rolth's silken tongue and delicious punishments."
Vyshael shakes his head, and sighs, Maybe we should have just let Rutter crush her skull, for all the good this is doing...
Rutter nods knowingly. "Rolth, huh?" He turns briefly to Raliscar, "There's your necromancer." Turning back to the prisoner, Rutter rewards her helpful answer with a slap.
"So, Rolth took the musician with him? What'd he want him for?"
Neva flinched at the memory of being blind beneath the Grey. She waited for the woman to respond to Rutter's question.
When Rutter mentions Rolth, and him being a necromancer, the elf grows somewhat worried as she realizes she said more than she should have. The following slap elicits nothing from her, and she just accepts it casually while staring off into space with her lips pursed tightly together.
"We've dealt with Rolth before. What's Rolth got to do with this family, or the musician? We met his derro friend underneath the Grey, and, of course, "Cabbagehead" (or whatever it was called). But we figured Rolth had left town or something.
"Rolth? Bah." Raliscar screws up his face like he'd tasted something bitter. "That enough for us to go on? I'm thinkin' I'd like to keep this little pissant from doing somethin' like this again."
The elf looks concerned as the group keeps throwing Rolth's name around. She says nothing further, clenching her jaw tight.
"She's made a mistake, friends, and she's worried about it. She didn't mean to share that name. But I doubt she'll share any more."
Turning back to the woman, she looked a final time into her eyes.
"Is there anything else you wanted to share, anything you'd like to apologize for before, well, before it's over?"
Vyshael shrugs, "Seems to me, now that the big secret is out, there's little reason to hold back -- and who knows, maybe there's some information of enough value to buy her life?"
She regains her briefly lost composure, and responds "Do your worst. I know I'll be back. He'll bring me back to him. That 'B#%%& of the Graves' can't have me." of course referring to Pharasma.
"Damn. You did give us something valuable. I hate being wrong. I wanted to kill you while you were still unconscious."
"We know Rolth can stitch people together from scraps, but which scrap does he need to keep you you? Your head or just your brain? Your heart? I can destroy them all just to spite you. Or maybe the only part of you that really gives you any value to him is between your legs? He can have that. I might even bring it to him. You think you're so special, I think it'd be funny to see you reduced to nothing more than a pussy stitched to some other woman's corpse."
"Give us a little more info, and I kill you cleanly with a blade. He'll have a chance to bring you back if he bothers to look for you. Keep quiet, and I'll crush your brains and head to pulp, cut out your heart and feed it to the stray dogs. You're not coming back from that."
"One question to decide your fate: Is Rolth in league with any vampires? We met vampire spawn, but no king vampire. Since Rolth loves the undead so much, maybe he's in contact with him. Hells, if he can help us with that, that might save his life, too."
Raliscar's eyes widen at the mention of vampires and he shoots Neva and Vyshael a concerned look that clearly says, 'Vampires?! Really?!'
"Rutter, I think you're on to something. She loves him. She's worried about him."
Neva turned to the prisoner.
"But Rolth's not going to bring you back if he finds out that you let his name slip, will he? No, Rolth doesn't seem the kind of person who would forgive that. What do you think he'll say about you, when we cart him off to prison, when he knows it was you that failed him?"
Vyshael chuckles, "Of course, her faith also assumes that we don't just let Rutter hide the corpse... Likely somewhere it'll be eaten. I'm sure that the Otyugh would love a bit of nourishment, for instance,... unless you think that your Rolth can animate piles of dung?"
The woman only glares at Rutter when he spins his diatribe of intentions and his offer of merciful death. It's when Neva offers her insight that the elf's eyes go wide, and for once her tone changes. Pleadingly, she offers, "NO! You mustn't tell him. Do not let him know how I failed him. I will tell you what I know, as long as all of you can promise that you won't hurt my dearest Rolth, or speak of my folly."
Neva looks her in the eye and says, "Good. Tell us what you know, and I'll not let Rolth know of your betrayal. I promise by the Grey Lady herself. As for harming Rolth: remember, we came her for the musician. We were looking for him, not Rolth. Now, tell us what you know."
She looks, suspiciously, at the others aside from Neva, "I need to hear it from all of you that Rolth will be safe." Her look stops pointedly at Rutter.
"No, you don't make the demands here. What I've said is enough. He..." pointing at Rutter, "will use his contacts around the city to find Rolth, or at least get word to him of what you've done, if you don't talk. So talk. Now.
Vyshael says, "I will abide by Neva's promises."
Raliscar shrugs. "I won't shoot first, if tha's what ye mean."
Rutter shrugs, "To be honest, it probably pays better to let him live, so we can get paid to retrieve whoever he kidnaps next time. You got a deal."
Remaining obstinate in the face of Neva's demands, the elf's mood suddenly turns when Rutter offers his 'acquiescence' to her request "Well, Rolth sent me to kill several 'rich bastards' who were scheduled to attend the party here. Any of the others were just, well,
bonuses. teehehehehe" her demented giggles of joy having returned. "Now, I don’t know why he wanted them dead, but I suspect it is something his new employer wanted, as Rolth wouldn’t have known any of these pathetic fools thinking their money and name bring them any true power." She sneers with contempt.
"My sweet Rolth" she flushes and titters with glee, "asked me to capture any young, healthy-looking Varisians I might run into, and to keep them under wraps but alive for him to collect. That musician you keep asking about was the only Varisian at the masquerade, and I dutifully restrained him until my beloved showed up to assess my work. He was very pleased with me, and had the two heavily armored women with him carry the guy off to who-knows where."
"So, Rolth has a new employer who wanted some rich people dead. Rolth himself wanted a 'healthy' Varisian. Healthy, as in not infected with Blood Veil?"
After that clarification, she asked, "Who were the heavily armed women? What did they look like?"
At the mention of heavily armored ladies, Raliscar's expression sours and he shakes his head ruefully, "Oh, I got a bad feelin' 'bout this answer."
Vyshael nods at Raliscar, "Aye, me too, all of a sudden."
The woman shrugs, "Healthy, as in healthy. Not sick, by Blood Veil or anything. Healthy. As for those b@&~$es with Rolth. I don't know who they are, but they weren't his type. They were all mannish and tough. All dressed in boring and ugly grey armor. Never saw their faces, they always have their helmets on, but I bet they are hideous." This last sounds more like she hopes they are not attractive.
Neva tried not to sigh at the news that the Grey Maidens were somehow involved with Rolth.
She turned to the others. "Does anyone else have any questions?"
Raliscar sighs heavily as the elf describes the Grey Maidens. "Yeah, that's who I was afraid your were talkin' about. Well then. Crap." The dwarf removes his hat with one hand and beats it against his thigh a few times in frustration before settin back atop his head. "This is not at all how I was hopin' this day was gonna go."
As Neva offers the chance to ask further questions, Raliscar shakes his head and shrugs helplessly.
Vyshael sighs in response to Raliscar's statement, "Rather matches the rest of the week, though, doesn't it?"
He turns to Neva, "Oh, I've got hundreds of questions -- and I think what we've just heard's added another dozen or so -- but none that I believe she's in a position to answer."
"Let's take her to Kroft, then. Maybe they'll have more patience for her than us. Maybe they have different questions we're not thinking of. Or maybe Kroft can just exact revenge on behalf of the people of Korvosa."
Neva didn't admit how much she hoped Kroft would choose the latter.
Rutter sighs. "I suppose Kroft would like to hear it from her, that the Grey Maidens are doing something definitively illegal. I'd assume that's illegal, at least. All we've had before has been our gut feeling that the Maidens and the docs are hiding something."
He turns to the prisoner, "You tell Kroft what you told us, and I'll make sure she executes you in private. Otherwise, I'll tell her to do it public, like the King's assassin, and announce to the whole town that you were working for Rolth."
Raliscar frowns at Rutter's remark, "If abduction's aren't falling under the heading of "Illegal" any longer, then we're wading into a whole mess o' trouble here. We're hip deep in it already, probably." He huffs a bit then hitches up the elf by her manacles. "Alright, ye bony lark. Time ta go." With his cousin's help, he wrangles their captive and the group makes their way back to Kroft.
The woman doesn't balk at being led to her guard to receive her death sentence. Again she maintains the face of someone who does not fear death, and may even welcome it. As you return to The Citadel, Field Marshal Kroft is interested to hear how you decided to bring in a prisoner when she was certain she had given you time off. Regardless, she takes the prisoner, and tells you she will be questioned as soon as she has the time. Until then the woman will have to sit in a cell. This is actually when the elf balks. She huffs and moans in protest, before adding, "Don't take too long, my sweet death awaits me. Don't waste my time waiting for you sad sacks of shit to pull your heads out of your asses. hehehehe" she delights in getting to insult whichever member of the guard is within earshot.
The Field Marshal turns to you , "Well, you all look like it hasn't exactly been relaxing. What's going on?"
Rutter waits until the guards have cleared the area, then he summarizes, "That crazy woman was working with Rolth, the necromancer. They killed and reanimated a mansion full or rich folk. We'd gone to knock on their door to look for some musician whose sister was worried about him. Found crazy lady staying behind - she finally told us Rolth had taken that musician with him, against his will, of course. And get this:" Rutter looks around, double-checking that no one's lurking about, "Rolth was being helped by a couple Grey Maidens." Rutter then raises his hands sarcastically to correct himself, "Or a couple ladies dressed like Grey Maidens."
"I was thinking we should go visit his hideout. Hopefully he's at the same one. See if that kid's alive."
Neva backed up Rutter's story, but her opinion diverged sharply when Rutter suggested the hideout.
To herself, she thought, "If it's the Grey Maidens, then the Hospice is the place we should investigate."
To Kroft she asked, "Do you have an idea on where the Grey Maidens might have taken him? And do you have any idea why he or they would have targeted this house, and this musician?"
Kroft looks puzzled and concerned, "All of this is rather disturbing. Rolth was the one from when you recovered the body of the Shoanti, correct? But he wasn't there. Now, this elf says he is working with the Grey Maidens? Can she be believed? She seems unstable?" She thinks for a moment, "As for striking at the rich. I don't understand. Fo rthe most part, those with money have either avoided the sickness, or at least been able to pay for treatment, so I have no idea why the man would strike out at them. As for this musician, that points at nothing to me."
At Neva's question, she replies, "I don't know if they would treat the man any different, but as I understand it, all those taken by the Grey Maidens as sick are taken to the Hospice. Now I can't do anything in this instance. As the Field Marshal of the Korvosan Guard, my hands are tied. If you guys could find some evidence, though, of any wrongdoing, I can try to make a move. You would have to do so, 'unaffiliated'." She wrings her hands, and her eyes dart nervously as she stares at her desk. She's clearly concerned about what this may all mean.
"Well, the crazy lady said they were looking for someone who ain't sick, so maybe that's why they hit the rich house. Hard to imagine everyone else at the party was sick, though."
"I couldn't figure out why they'd want someone who ain't sick, either. Plague they brought here ain't working fast enough?" Rutter continues without mirth, [/b]"Ha! It'd be funny if Rolth was finding someone who's naturally immune and develops a cure to save the whole city. We'd have to build a statue of him. That freak, looking down on all the children of the city he saved."[/b]
"She said that Rolth fellow wanted healthy Varisians, fer some twisted reason no doubt. This hospice though, we talkin' about the place ye've spoken of before? Locked up tight an all suspicious like?" The dwarf, still obviously sour and troubled from what they saw at the manor and their dealings with the elf, frowns as he adjusts his crossbow from one shoulder to the other. "Well I'll tell ye plain I'm in a mind ta get my hands on some kind o' flame-throwing mage an' have 'em torch the place in a blaze of fiery fury! After that blighted manor, I've had my fill of these sickos an' their profane games!"
Field Marshal Kroft looks pensive, "Would that it were so easy as just burning down a building. That's where all the infected citizens are being taken for treatment, and I still don't have enough evidence to condone such an outright hostile act against the physician's or the Grey Maidens."
"We'll come up with some idea", Neva said. Turning to the others, she said "Let's go back to our house and talk about it."
With that, she made ready to leave.
Raliscar remarks as the group departs, "Well I hope whatever we come up with is properly impolite. This Rolth sounds like he deserves somethin' a bit more severe than a knock on th' door!"