Burahl looks up to the woman clad in iron.
"And with that you adress our concerns as well, though we did not have any thoughts about foul play yet. We are however trying to help as best as we can and locate the source of this plague. Seeing the initial epicenter, it might have a link to that ship that was bombarded just a few nights ago, though that is just my opinion."
Burahl inspects the woman carefully with his beady little eyes, while leaning on his cane/quarterstaff.
"I'm Burahl by the way, pleased to meet you Emmera. I wonder what you might have heard of us, just the things Garm told you?"
Good, then she might not know anything about our 'paper distribution center'
"Could you please tell us why Garm suspects any foul play? The things he might have heard could be important."
Emmera shakes her head in response to the ratfolk's questions. "Very little, on both counts. I don't believe he had any definite proof, just a hunch based on how fast this illness has spread; that it's being helped along in some way, as it were. As for your group, I believe the word he used was 'resourceful'. Obviously, it's a sentiment that is shared by others." She nods towards the cleric of Abadar, both as a silent greeting and as an acknowledgment that they are traveling with him - presumably for the same reason as the doctors are being guarded.
She returns to what Burahl first said, "You mentioned that a ship was bombarded, yes? I'm afraid I don't leave the temple much, and nobody was in much mood for idle chatter yesterday, so this is the first I've heard of it. Is there anything you could tell me about it, why you think it might be the source?"
"We have only heard the following things," says Fredo clinically, like he would to an Arbiter. Even now that Burahl and Emmera have said it aloud, he's determined not to let his own suspicions that someone is spreading the plague deliberately color his speech. "The ship was sighted two nights ago. It bore a yellow signal light. It passed North Bridge, heading upriver. It was signaled. It did not respond. The catapulters here sunk it. North Bridge leads to the East Shore neighborhood, where Brothers Garm and Dhatri attended to what seems like one of the earliest patients," he says diplomatically, including the Abadaran but giving Garm pride of place. "It's suspicious, but circumstantial, and I'm sure we don't know everything."
"It's only hearsay to be honest, I haven't seen the ship or site myself, but the disease has spread first and fastest in Old Korvosa and the East-Shore part of the city. The ship went down in about the same district, so that's my own hunch. A link between them as the ship was not giving any signs itself of people being on board or at least not able to respond."
The ratfolk thinks back to Grau's niece and ponders his mind for a second.
"We've had a little girl that my first patient with the symptoms and this disease. Perhaps we can learn more from her later if she feels more rested."
Raijinn smiles tightly at the woman and gives a slight bow, finding her appearance less worrying than what she's saying. His dark skin pales noticeably at the conversation, and his brow furrows. "Plague?" he asks, looking down at Burahl for confirmation, and shudders when the rat offers it. "Perhaps," he remarks, stroking his chin, "We should investigate what happened to this ship. If indeed it harboured something, we may discover more of what it is, or where it came from."
Emmera nodded in response to Raijinn's statement. The fact that he was a Tiefling, and Burahl a ratfolk, didn't bother her too much. Garm had vouched for them, after all, and she knew too well how a different appearance could change peoples' reactions to you despite your actions.
"I'd come with you, if you'd have me. I want to see this sickness ended, or at least stymied, as much as anyone else. And if there is some cult behind it, I certainly want to make sure they won't be a problem anymore." Her hand unconsciously shifts to her longsword (in its scabbard on her right hip) as she finishes, giving a little extra weight to her words.
Goffred succeeds in catching the attention of a guardsmen with his words regarding Ishani Dhatri, and the man jogs to catch the Field Marshal's attention.
Meanwhile, the assembled guardsmen begin to break up into groups, directed by the aforementioned armored woman. She barks harsh orders and silences grumbling with a few shouts, and assigns guardsmen to their individual or group tasks around the city.
the Field Marshal, however, is in a little meeting with Doctor Davaulus and his Queen's Physicians when the guardsmen gets her attention. She looks up from her conversation to see the three adventurers who she already knows and the priest she doesn't, and she quickly excuses herself from her conversation.
When she arrives, Ishani intercepts her first, and hits her with a short blurb about how he wants to help the guards coordinate with the guard, to which she replies that yes, she'd love to, and to please come to the meeting she's about to have with all of her available resources.
the Marshal then approaches the adventurers, while Ishani waits behind her for her to be done. "So, you're back. Good to see you again, Goffred, Burahl, Raijinn. Who's your new friend? And what are you doing here?"
Fredo bites his lip at Emmera's request to join them, knowing he has to make up his mind quickly before the Guard returns with Marshal Kroft. It isn't entirely without precedent; Burahl hadn't been with them in the Old Fishery. But he came with Raijinn's recommendation. Was Brother Garm's equivalent? In some ways. Fredo doesn't think he's out to undermine them. But he is an outsider with his own agenda and Emmera's first loyalty would be to him. Then again, Thaven has made it clear that his first duty is to the Sable Company.
"Very well," he says quickly and quietly, knowing he has only seconds. "But if you want to join our party, there is someone you must meet and there are tales you should hear, neither of which we have time for right now.
"We came escorting Brother Dhatri, Field Marshal," he says as the harried-looking woman comes over. He hopes she won't have to resort to daily restorations again. Not only will it busy yet another healer, but she might develop a dependence. "And we met Sister Emmera at the gate. But now that we're here, is there anything we can do?" He lowers his voice. "And if you have a moment free, could you tell us anything you know about the ship your troops sunk a few days ago? Burahl has a theory that it might be connected to Blood Veil."
Flying over the city, on duty with the Commander, you can pretend (at least for a while) that there are no troubles. There is, however, still work to do. You have to make a few arrests, but they aren't particularly notable...then you spot a fight in a city courtyard in Old Korvosa. You and the Commander swoop down to deal with it and dismount. Your appearance quickly stops the fight, especially when weapons get drawn, and then the story of how the fight broke out comes out...apparently, one man, covered in rashes and pockmarks, had bumped into another, unscathed man. The second man had attacked the first man, mostly out of fear, and then more men had been drawn into the fight to protect one or both parties.
Both parties were sternly warned and both of the original instigators were to be jailed, but this kind of thing is deeply disturbing. On the way back to the Company's barracks, Commander Endrin speaks up. Well, he speaks up once you've landed. Really difficult to speak with the wind whistling through one's ear. Once the pair of you land, however, he says, "Thaven, this sickness...it disturbs me. I've never seen it before today and it's...everywhere. I want you to find out what it is, Thaven. I want you to stop it. We don't need you in the skies, there are plenty of us... Do you understand?"
"Ah. Good, thanks for bringing him to me." says the Marshal. She sighs at Goffred's whispered words, and replies in a low voice, "I'm not sure that I know much. I wasn't on duty, but my contacts tell me that there was a yellow light shining from the prow. Last I checked, that meant quarantine. Other ships weren't to approach when a signal like that was shone."
She strokes one cheek with a nail, and then checks behind herself quickly. Her company is waiting for her, appearing to look patient but it isn't difficult to see that the Doctors and Ishani want to get going. "I actually do have a task for you. A long-time friend named Eries came to see me today, looking for help. I'll send her your way when I've got a moment. Do you just want to wait around here or should I send her to one of your residences?"
Emmera blinks a few times in surprise at Goffred's words. She had assumed that the four of them - including Thaven, who she hadn't met yet - were simply an adventuring party or mercenary band of sorts; one that Brother Garm had worked with before, but otherwise one of many. It seemed that it went deeper than that, and in some way that wasn't meant to see the light of day, so to speak. It made her slightly uneasy... but he had offered, despite what she clearly represented. That meant it couldn't be too bad... right?
She stays quiet through the short conversation with the Marshal, except for right at the end. Just before the Marshal turns to leave, Emmera speaks up, "Marshal, I had asked to meet with you a short time ago, with the purpose of finding Goffred and the others. Obviously, events have made that meeting no longer necessary. One less thing for you to worry about." Emmera smiles, though it's hard to tell behind the wrappings. "May your blade be sharp and your hand steady as you face the challenges ahead." A common Iomedaen blessing; perhaps not literally useful to the situation, but symbolically so.
Burahl looks over to the impatient group and then back to Marshall Kroft.
"I think it's best you send her to one our houses. After all we intend to see Brother Dathri safe and sound to his destinations this day, we might not be able to linger here for long. Unless you send her to where Borther Dathri wants to go and we'll meet up there."
He says on a quiet tone to Cressida and then looks with a quick glance to the priest travelling under their escort.
"I believe your group looks quite anxious to go themselves, perhaps we all are eager to get to the bottomof this and rid Korvosa of this plague yes?"
"Be careful, Burahl," says Fredo. "The terms of our agreement were quite clear: for consideration which we've already received, we were to escort Ishani to the Citadel and put him in touch with the Field Marshal. Under that agreement, we have no further obligations." He turns to the priest, a knowing look in his eye. Abadar's portfolio encompasses lawyers too, and Fredo is sure Ishani can appreciate his counseling Burahl as he would a client. "Nothing precludes us from assuming a new obligation to him, or from giving him of our time as a gift. But we are also free to donate our time to Cressida's friend. And I think we should, mostly because I imagine Ishani will find himself tied up here in meetings all day.
"As for where we should wait, I'd like it to be somewhere Thaven can find us. Whatever Eries wants, it'll probably require all our skills. I think this would be among the first places he'd look for us." Fredo decides not to mention that while they're waiting would be a good time to introduce Emmera to Zellara. Best not to talk about her around so many prying ears, and especially around the Gray Maidens.
Thaven snaps to attention. "Sir. I think I may know the people who can help, sir. Permission to use my mount on this assignment, sir?"
Burahl scratches behind his ears and rubs his head.
"That is true and we have done so, somehow I'd thought we might get some more information from the other priests and help the city in that way. Excuse me for involuntarily applying all our time."
Burahl turns to Cressida again."I guess your friend Eries could meet us here, we don't really have any other business as of yet so.."
Raijinn stiffens in surprise at Fredo's acceptance of the girl. There was no reason to believe they could trust her, and having her with them, revealing Zellara. Raijinn hadn't even spoken to Vencarlo about her yet. But he knew that Fredo was right, too, what was required of them may be a lot, and that they may require her help after all. "It is possible," he said, looking to Fredo, "that Thaven has other priorities now. We should not delay too long for him. I fear that time is against us on this one."
"We have to wait for Eires anyway," says Fredo. "If she can find us, tell us her whole story, and outline our task before he can find us, then and only then would I consider leaving Thaven behind."
Thaven's commander nods gravely at him. "Permission granted, marine. Do your city well and bring me back results. You perform well here and there's quite a bit of distinction in it for you." With that, Endrin strides away, likely to deal with some other pressing matter that demands his attention. He's a busy man, and he heads up a sizable force of both humans and large, fickle, powerful beasts of burden.
Thaven salutes and heads down to the stables. Once mounted, he flies over the city toward Zellara's hut, then Fredo's printing press, watching for his friends from his vantage in the air.
Goffred, Raijinn, Emmera, and Burahl gather up their things and let the Marshal know to send Eries to Zellara's house, where they'll be. Then, they take off towards that very same house, a secret on the minds of each of them. Emmera must be let in on the loop before she can be considered a "comrade", after all.
It doesn't take long for them to arrive, perhaps fifteen minutes, and Thaven is already circling in the air above them as they walk down the street and into the house. He descends to meet them, and the four friends are together once again, albeit with a newcomer.
Eries may take awhile to get there, as she has to be sent for by the Marshal and then directed to the house.
Walking to Zellara's Burahl looks from time to time to Fredo and Raijinn, nodding in Emmara's direction, slowly miming to them the words; "do we tell her?"
When they arrive, Burahl waves to Thaven flying overhead before walking to the door.
He opens the door and hangs up his coat again, keeping his cane close at hand as he moves over to his favourite chair in the living room.
"Come on in Emmara, make yourself comfortable. This used to be the house of a mutual friend of ours, now we use it from time to time to meet up with each other and share gossip and information."
He sits into the chair and looks at her without blinking, looking slightly stern and older than he actually is, his cane beneath his hands hold out in front of him.
"It's not all we do here actually, if you are going to travel with us you might need to know a few things about our group. It would do us good if we don't have to mind our words even when in close company. But I have to ask for our own sake, before we say anything further; can you keep what happens in this place a secret?"
He then notices the odd look on Emmara's face as he says so, only than realizing that he could be misunderstood.
"Hmm... nothing like that, we don't do anything here that can't stand the light of day. We have, on occasions, a meeting here that's better left unknown to outsiders. That's why I ask you for your secrecy, if you please."
Fredo isn't happy with giving Kroft a forwarding address at Zellara's house. For one thing, the seer lacked heirs and probably a will, which meant that the property would eventually fall into escrow. At any point after it did, Kroft could send a detachment down to evict the party as squatters and have the place sold or torn down. But he's not really worried about that. The plague is a bigger priority, and the Field Marshal had been positively helpful in letting the group buy the butcher shop. What really worries Fredo is that Togomor can read minds. Now that Kroft and Eries know they use Zellara's home, he'll know too if he ever questions either of them. But it can't be helped. They need to meet up with Thaven, and Burahl and Raijinn are right; the house will be among the first place he checks. Fredo resolves, however, to be extra careful about removing anything incriminating from the premises every time they leave.
Thaven and Whisper stoop down on the party just before they head inside. Fredo greets the man warmly and compliments him on how strong and healthy his beast looks. He can feel Cat's nervousness around a birdlike creature so much bigger than she is, however, and heads inside.
While Burahl sets about swearing Emmera to secrecy, Fredo pulls out Zellara's harrow deck and begins leafing through it. He quickly finds the cards he remembers Raijinn and Thaven bringing to their first meeting here, the Forge and the Peacock respectively, and palms them with his own Inquisitor. Another pass through the deck sees them joined by the Foreign Trader; Fredo doesn't know why, but he can tell Zellara thinks it fits Burahl. He sets the deck down before he can pick any more cards. He holds the quartet close to his chest, ready to reveal them at the opportune moment.
Whisper watches the wizard's familiar with a predatory grin, but Thaven strokes her head and murmurs, "Not food." and slips her a hunk of dried meat as encouragement. She throws her head back and swallows, making happy sounds as she does. Thaven scratches behind her ear ridges and gives her the command to Guard as he goes inside.
"I've been dispatched by Commander Endrin to look into the disease matter. He's worried and has given me leave to operate as I see fit. What do you know?" By Thaven's look, he seems to already assume that you've been working on it in his absence.
Emmera was surprised to find that the fourth member of the group was a member of the Sable Company. She knew of them of course, though she hadn't met one, or had the chance to see one of the gryphons up close, before now. Regardless, it was another good sign that whatever this group was, it wasn't a force for evil.
Moving into the house, Emmera waited for the others to take their normal seats before selecting a chair for herself, setting aside her pack, shield and sword for comfort (though the sword in particular is kept within easy reach). Thus set, she listens to the ratfolk's words, then closes her eyes to think once he finishes.
"I understand the need for secrets at times, information not to be shared with the public. I cannot however, promise full secrecy at this time." She holds up a single finger before anyone can respond to that, indicating she isn't finished. "Though I believe you that this is not an evil secret, for several reasons, my duty to eliminate evil trumps any promise of secrecy. There are also my superiors in the clergy to whom I answer to: Brother Garm, for instance. I will not lie to him, especially not if the information might be critical to our order. Outside of the church, however, I have no such obligations; even the Marshal, for example, I will refrain from telling. I know it may not be ideal, but that is the extent of what I can promise."
"More than we did this morning, Thaven," says Fredo, tapping the table with his free hand. "We know blood veil is most common in working-class neighborhoods, but it has also infected the clergy of Abadar, and not through overly-generous ministry. The priest we met at Grau's sister's is trying to organize an interfaith response. We know the the yellow light borne by the ship that the Citadel's bombardiers sank was a quarantine signal. Its passengers may have been the first patients. Maybe after we're done helping Eries we can return to Grau's sister's and ask Brienne if she met anyone who looked sick before she fell ill herself. And we know the Queen has taken advantage of the plague to create two new agencies: one of doctors, one of warriors. Both groups can issue orders to the Guard and the Sable Company, and expect to be obeyed. Ostensibly, this is an emergency measure." He arches an eyebrow at the newly-minted Marine, inquiring what he thinks of this development. Fredo's tone of voice tells his own opinion clearly enough, as if it wouldn't have been clear from his reaction to the Hellknights' usurpations during the rioting.
"That will have to do," he says, turning to Emmera. "I don't think Garm, or the Marshal for that matter, would knowingly turn on us, but for their own safety, the less they know, the better. Public figures who have agreed too openly with us, even without knowing us personally, have faced indefinite arrest." He exhales heavily. "You'll have to exercise your own judgment.
"Burahl, Raijinn, Thaven, and I," he intones, laying out each name's corresponding card, labels facing Emmera, "were chosen to deliver Korvosa from evil. Through investigations we undertook for the Guard, we identified that evil: the autocratic ambition of Queen Ileosa. Do you remember the fervor over Trinia Sabor? It was in connection with her case that we met Brother Garm. He helped us prove that she was no murderess, and fortunately, we were able to help her escape. Unfortunately, the Queen found another woman to execute in her place and under her name. She was probably innocent too.
"After that, unbeknownst to the Field Marshal, we decided to transition from freelance investigation into politics. Blood Veil seems to have demolished this possibility, and that might even be its purpose, but I had anticipated another rising. I had hoped that by the time it arrived we could convince the masses that they could find their enemy in Castle Korvosa. To that end we started publishing a newspaper to chronicle her machinations. We named it 'The Big Sky' after the Harrow card." He waves a hand over the cards on the table. "It was a Harrower, you see, that chose us and brought us together. The names of the cards she used to summon us have become our bylines.
"Now that you know our story," he concludes, folding his hands, "it is she you must meet." He looks down to address the deck. "What do you think of Emmera, Zellara?"
During the walk over Raijinn is annoyed to find that all he can do in response to Burahl's questions is shrug. Fredo's desire to take the strange woman to their haven was already invasion enough. He hoped his body language conveyed to the rat that he was not pleased with this series of events.
Once inside, Raijinn leans against a wall while Burahl and the girl talk. He notes that she keeps her sword handy, and he himself stands in an opportune location as to be able to block her escape. From what they had seen so far, Raijinn would not have been surprised if the Queen sent someone to spy on them.
He tenses up as Fredo lays the cards on the table, both figuratively and literally, and at the mention of Zellara he nearly shouts. "Goffred!"
At Goffred's introduction, the room grows cold. Not uncomfortably so, but the kind of cold that the dead of night during spring brings. Chilly is a better word. The small, abandoned house fills with the strangely comforting smell of earth, and the edges in the room begin to softly blur as the house fills with a light mist. Pharasma's spiral briefly comes into blurring existence, but it quickly becomes three-dimensional and eclectically colorful as it morphs into a multicolored Varisian Harrower's dress. Without the impression that they appeared, arms and legs are suddenly there, as is a plainly attractive, olive-skinned face rimmed by thick, curly black hair. Before you, standing on the table where the Harrow deck once was is now a pretty, middle-aged Varisian woman. She off-handedly shuffles the deck in her hands.
She smiles at Emmera as she steps off of the table, her feet stepping on mere air a few times before they come to rest on the wooden floor of her hut. "Pure-hearted, I think, and not as naive as many of her very zealous peers." She peers into Emmera's eyes, hidden within layers of bandages, and sees the bit of Heaven that rests within the woman. Her smile expands to a beam.
She draws a card from her Harrow deck, which she finished shuffling and gathered into a coherent pile while none of you were really paying attention. She flips it around so that Emmera can see - The Paladin.
"It appears the Harrow agrees. Now, young woman, what would you like to know about us?"
Emmera moves instinctively as the room suddenly turns chill, grabbing the hilt of her sword in one hand and her holy symbol in the other, ready to face an enemy should it arrive. She relaxes slightly when Pharasma's symbol appears, and moreso when it forms the shape of a decidedly nonthreatening, and seemingly friendly, woman. The fact that a spirit was heralded by Pharasma's symbol was odd*, but she had a feeling that the reasoning would come out eventually.
She remains silent as the woman - Zellara - draws the harrow card. She looks at the card for a moment (taking it if proffered) before speaking. "Many questions come to mind, but I think I can get most of them contained in three: First, what exactly is a Harrower, as most I've seen using the decks would be better called cheats and swindlers. No offense. Second, how exactly did a spirit bound to a deck of cards manage to bring a group together without rising suspicions. And following from that, how did you get mixed up in the Trinia Sabor... debacle?"
It's not likely that this woman is actually connected to Pharasma in a literal way - this seems to be illusory in nature, the features of what's happening chosen by Zellara herself.
As for her questions, Zellara answers them in a soft and gentle voice. "A harrower is probably exactly what you think it is...the difference between some harrowers and others is whether or not they truly have sorcerous magic. I happen to have had a touch of it within my veins while I was alive, and my...current state gives me powers as well. As for how I brought them here...you ought to ask the others about that. Mostly, it had to do with a crime lord, defunct and old, named Gaedrin Lamm. As for Trinia Sabor, I got wrapped up in it alongside my new friends. They were brought into the issue by the Field Marshal and I offer my advice to them where I can."
"Who says we weren't suspicious?" Fredo says. "You'd be wary too if one day a copy of the Paladin had appeared among your papers, with a note printed on the back telling you to come here to learn where to find brother's killer. But Lamm proved irresistible bait, and Zellara presented herself as a living woman at first. Only later did we discover that Lamm had killed her." Cat jumps up into his lap and stretches while Fredo starts petting her absentmindedly. "When she first...manifested for us, Raijinn threatened her with a sword!
"As for Trinia, it is as Zellara says. We'd been working freelance for Field Marshal Kroft for a while, and she commissioned us to find her when the Queen's announcements contained all the information anyone knew." Cat yawns, and Fredo has to admit that anyone who hangs around him long enough will probably have heard this story more times than they care to. "When we found her, she convinced us of her innocence. We brought her back to the Citadel, hoping to convince the Marshal of the same. But the Queen's mage Togomor was waiting for us. He hijacked the proceeding and overbore Trinia's will to make her deliver a false confession. It was Garm who broke his magic and convinced him to let her go." Retelling the story, it strikes Fredo how naive they sound.
"Actually," he says, lifting Cat onto the table and leaning forward onto his elbows, "I'd like to know if you've heard a story like that before now."
"No, I have not," Emmera replies to Goffred, "Although, as I believe I've mentioned, I seldom leave the temple, so I've no idea whether that tale is well known among the citizens." She is silent for a short time, processing everything that she'd been told. It appeared that the group had been gathered together by Zellara to fight a common foe, and presumably had caught the attention of the Field Marshal during the process. They had thus been sent out to hunt down the woman suspected of the King's murderer, one Trinia Sabor. Trinia, however, managed to prove her innocence to them, despite the efforts of the Queen's mage to force her into a false confession (which is when Brother Garm met them). Despite this, the queen still had someone executed under the name of Trinia, presumably as a scapegoat.
At face value, it seemed a tall tale, a story meant to stir rebellion and incite a coup. Two unmentioned pieces of information made it ring true, however. First, Garm had vouched for them, and he was as good a judge of character as any she had met, in the church or out. Second, the creation of the Grey Maidens, a force that seemed to have no purpose but to allow the Queen a personal hand in things, despite already having the guard and Sable Company. Zellana herself helped to prove the first part of the story as well.
Perhaps they were stirring the pot, so to speak, with their newspaper. If it was the actual truth they were spreading, however, then both the secrecy and seemingly shady methods made sense. If evil had taken a seat at the head of power, masked behind an image of good, then a direct assault would be foolish and doomed to failure. Better to be the shadowy tactician, spreading the seeds of truth till they take root before de-masking the despot and restoring good to the throne.
"Very well," she says at last, "Your story rings true. I don't think many would believe it at face value, but I've seen just enough to trust your tale. It does raise some troubling thoughts, to be sure, and I will certainly be discreet about whom I tell this information to. Thank you, for trusting me with this." She nods her heads at each of them. "What now? I presume we wait for Eries to arrive and deal with the situation at hand?" Emmera is referencing the plague, of course. While the Queen may now be a looming threat, there was a much more immediate one that needed to be dealt with.
Fredo scratches his mustache, slightly disappointed that Emmera hadn't heard the true story before but also impressed that she'd understood why he wanted to know. "Wait, yes, but not in stillness or silence, I hope!" he says. "That'd be boring. Now that you know our story, I'd be interested to know how you met Garm and came to live at the temple."
Emmera nods. "I suppose that's fair. Let's see..." It took a few seconds to decide where to begin. As she starts to speak, she slowly begins unwrapping the bandages around her right hand. "Ten or so years ago, my village was attacked by a goblin raiding party. My house was set alight in the process, and I ran back in after realizing my sister was still inside. I got both of us out, but I was... fairly horrifically burned in the process."
"I most likely would have died to the wounds, but a paladin had seen the smoke from afar and arrived a day or two later. He healed me before leaving to chase down the goblins, which for most people would have been the end of the story. I, however, was left with this." The cleric raises her hand so that the now-unwrapped back is visible to the others. At first glance, it appears to be covered with a network of scars. A moment later, however, a soft glow quickly traces the lines before disappearing again. Glow and scars, glow and scars, rhythmically as if timed by a heartbeat...
She begins re-wrapping her hand as she continues, "The healing energy awakened some touch of celestial blood in my veins from a long forgotten forefather, causing both that pattern and my connection to Iomaede to manifest. The rest is rather straightforward: after the paladin returned, he brought me to one of the larger temples where I was trained in combat and how to hone my divine powers. I started wearing these bandages after one too many times where people thought I was some sort of avatar. I am an aasimar, yes, but other than that I have no claim to power more than any other blessed cleric. As for Brother Garm, I met him when I was assigned here... a little under two years ago."
Finishing the wrapping, Emmera looks back up. "That's about it, really. Unless you have questions?"
Burahl listens to her story, leaning forward in his chair as Emmera tells it. When she finishes he nods in acknowledgement of her story, more of a 'I understand' kind of way.
"So you're a bit of an outcast as well, not truly of course, but you have a reason to be more on your own or to hide yourself. actually all of us have such a story, so you're not telling this to deaf ears."
He rumbles in his backpack for a little bottle, pulls the stopper of it and takes a sip.
"Hmm this could become an addiction of mine." He murmurs as he closes it again.
"As Goffred mentioned earlier, most of us had a history with a person named Gaedren Lamm. In some way we became outcasts through our experiences with him and his thugs. I myself as I swore revenge on him for my family, it's why I started a secret alchemist's shop. Sadly it's not as big of a secret anymore."
He takes another sip of the fluid inside the bottle.
He then turns his eyes back towards Emmera. "I do have one question though, what will you do when we survive this plague and find a cure?"
Although the question might seem strange at first, Burahl's tone is pretty clear on why he's asking it. Just to see whom they are actually trusting.
"Hmmm. In the short term, I will be telling Garm of my suspicions. Even ignoring what you've revealed, the presence of the Grey Maidens is worrying. If the plague is connected as well..." Emmera takes hold of the holy symbol around her neck and bows her head for a moment, looking pensive. "The senior members of the church are wise, they won't do anything overt inside the city or out of it; Iomedae promotes tactics, after all, not mindlessly running at evil. Still, I presume they'll start making preparations, if not now then certainly when more evidence presents itself. If it comes time for an uprising, I'm sure our clerics and paladins will be among those making the charge."
She hadn't completely eliminated the possibility that Fredo, Burahl, and the others were mistaken, or purposely misleading her, but something told her she wasn't wrong in trusting their suspicions. Garm probably would agree with her, but she couldn't say for certain that the higher ups would listen to Garm, not with as little evidence she had personally seen.
"As for me, Iomedae seems to have guided me here. I see no reason I shouldn't continue to aid you... or join you, if you prefer to consider it that way. You seem to be in the think of things, by chance or fate, and it would be against most of what Iomedae stands for me to walk away just because the immediate danger is past."
"I do prefer to consider it that way, actually," says Fredo. On the table, Cat curls up and starts purring. It tickles them both to imagine the Church of Iomedae on side, if only for the novelty of it. "And I think you will too, eventually. Besides, it's not like we have a rule against dual memberships." He cocks an eyebrow at Thaven, still in his livery and riding togs, to point out how absurd such a thing would be.
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Raijinn remains quiet through most of the conversation, at first sulking that Fredo would risk the entire operation by telling a strange girl about it, and then eventually growing interested in her own tale. The difficulties in having to hide her heritage draw him towards her particularly, as though they were kin.
Shaking his head at himself, he recalls his violent reaction towards Zellara, his immediate trust in Trinia (which will correct was still risky and poorly-founded) and now his reticence with Emmera, who seemed to be completely on the level. 'You're being too hard on yourself,' he thinks, realising that trust only came so easily with Fredo and Burahl because of what they had gone through together. Caution was still advisable with new faces, especially in these times.
Our old friends and the new converse amongst themselves, amiably, for the time that they must wait for Eries. Many secrets are shared, and Zellara will answer any questions that Emmera has for her regarding her nature or her motivations or power. Eventually, though, the knock comes at the door and with a slight curtsy, Zellara disappears, along with her illusions covering the small house, leaving her deck sitting on the table right where Goffred left it last.
The door is opened, and Eries is let into the house. She is a small, unassuming elderly woman, perhaps in her 50s, with yellow, jaundiced eyes, crinkled skin, and gray, tattered robes covering up most of her body. Her head pokes up atop hunched shoulders, topped by a little gray headscarf. She bows to you, and begins to speak.
"So, the Marshal says you're the ones to go to for...tasks. Yes? Good. I have a problem. A...younger brother of mine, named Girrigz, is about to cause major problems for himself and many members of my family. He believes that now, while the city is weak from disease and even steadily growing weaker, that he should strike and seize some sort of power. He refuses to listen to my counsel, and so I am afraid for him and the misguided youngsters that he has gathered under himself."
Her features beginning to shift, growing even more hunched and pointed. Her nose elongates into a snout, and a thin layer of grayed hair sprouts over her skin where you can see it, until what stands before you is basically a bipedal, humanoid rat, although quite a bit taller than Burahl. She holds up her hands. "Don't worry, I mean you no harm. You see, my people are wererats, and I am afraid that we will be blamed for the plague, especially if Girrigz goes on his poorly-conceived attack. I have seen were-rat purges by the city, and I fear that another is in store for us if Girrigz's plan comes to fruition. I want nothing but a stable life for myself and my family."
She shoots a pleading look at you from within her black, beady rat eyes. "Please, will you help me?"
Burahl watches and listens as Eries speaks to them about her brother Girrigz.
Somehow her matter of speech sounds familiar, almost as if I'm listening to myself. A fast talker as well.
When Eries changes into her rat-shape, Burahl looks on amazed.
"Well I'll be, I've heard tales of the wererats and the purges but was always told that they were rogue ratfolk. As my kin were and are also mostly regarded as second or third-rate citizens."
Burahl stands up from his chair and walks towards Eries, inspecting her from head to toe and nods.
"Please forgive my staring, I'm used to only seeing ratfolk, not people changing into one. If your assumption of possibly being blamed for the plague is correct, Girrigz's actions will only fuel those rumours. Perhaps not only wererats will be targeted, but ratfolk as well."
Burahl clutches his cane in his right hand and stretches out his left.
"You have my help, not only because I trust and help Marshall Kroft, but also because though we are different we are alike."
Fredo puts Zellara's deck back in his pack before the door opens. He listens to Eires' story with steepled fingers, and looks nonplussed at her transformation. "Of course, avoiding a pogrom is in everyone's interest," he says diplomatically. "But Girrigz has a point. Varisians, Ratfolk, Shoanti, Wererats...Korvosa is not kind to its subject peoples. And when confronting the state in its capacity as jailer of nations, organization is superior to any other method." He pauses for a moment to remind himself of the spells he has prepared for today, and his lip twitches downward disappointedly: at least one would be all but useless indoors, and he has neglected the spell that had worked wonders on Verik. "If Girrigz is interested in politics, I would like to hear his theoreties. If they are wrongheaded, and if their wrongheadedness informs his tactical adventurism, maybe he can be convinced of others."
Eries shakes her head at Goffred, "I don't think it's politics that Girrigz is interested in... All he really wants is blood. He's seen the way that his people are oppressed, and his rhetoric of justice and freedom have resonated well with them. He hates everything that isn't a wererat. You might be able to reason with his followers, should you manage to get past them without killing them, but I think that Girrigz is beyond reasoning with."
Fredo crosses his arms in front of his chest, more disappointed than before. Eiress makes Girrigz sound almost like Korran Goss or one of Hosetter's other latter-day inheritors. No idea of the real enemy, and consequently no plan or perspective for the future. Men like that worked frauds upon their followers. "Well, I just hope you're wrong," he says grimly, rising and going to the door. "Where can we find him?"
Thaven gives a start when the were-rat changes, then his eyes narrow as he looks from Eries to Burahl and back. "I'm in. Plague's bad enough without a race war."
"Agreed," Emmera nods at Thaven's comment. "I'd rather be trying to find whoever spread this disease, but letting this be is inviting disaster of a different type yet no less severe." She then turns to Eries, "I know this may be hard to hear, but there's no easy way to put it: you realize that based on what you've told us, there's a fairly good chance we'll have to put your brother, and possibly his followers, to the sword to get him to stop, right? We can try to capture and imprison him, but I want to make sure you're aware of the likely outcome of this." It sounded cruel, but it was the truth, and hiding it was likely to do nothing but cause heartache and resentment later. She couldn't not do anything now that she knew of the problem, but at least she could let Eries let it know it was coming.
"I know it's...it's very possible that many of them will oppose you by force," responds Eries, her ratty lips pursed. "But if you can, please try not to kill them. They're my friends and family, and most of them aren't lit with the flame of hate like Girrigz is."
She then gives you directions on how to get to Girrigz' hideout, insisting that the ratfolk weren't being purposefully stereotypical by hiding in a sewer - it just happens that way.
