"Speak to us honestly, Tald. We need to know what is down there. Is the area trapped?"
Morl speaks first, "Course not! Why would the secret stash of a paranoid and insane bandit be anything but trap-free." He snort contemptuously. Tald nods his agreement, apparently used to his comrades mannerisms, "He's the only one who went down there, well him and Purell, that was the big fellow. He trusted all of us not a whit. But I'm certain he's rigged something nasty down there."
They both start shaking their heads before the words finish coming out of Amons mouth, tripping over each other in their refusal, "No. No, no. No thanks." "Not a chance in Westcrown."
Morl spits at the small halfing, "We're in the woods, not the streets, I guess halfings smarts really are in line with their brain size. Clear the traps yerself ya fiend." Tald clears his throat carefully, "Uhh, I'll take my chances with the dogs and the flies, begging yer pardon sir. Honestly it beats wading into the unknown devily the Boss must've left down there."
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The eye plucking, tree hiding thug is now a trap making dynamo? Psha. The only danger in that hole is a stray spider or gangrene infected body parts. Still, if it will allay your fears, I will send in my servant. He can drag up to 100 lbs, setting off traps near the ground. What shall he drag?
Corneleous is certainly not eyeing one of the smaller corpses as a trap Springer. Still, his lack of reverence for the dead is born out of practicality. Very rarely do spirits rise from the dead, and almost always the undead are formed by trauma prior to death, not after.
Corneleous spots some hefty looking branches nearby and directs the unseen servant to drag it from a little ways down from the log specified as the loot-location to the other side. Moving slowly, but steadily, the log appears to move of its own volition down the gully. Leaves, dirts, rocks are disturbed and kicked up, but nothing violent happens. The Viscount directs the servant back the other directly, on a slightly different path, covering more ground. Still nothing, on it's final pass a loud metallic SNAP! rings out, and the sharp teeth of a bear trap close violently over the dragging branch, nearly severing it into two pieces. Undeterred, the Unseen Servant continues to drag the branch till a chain staking the trap into the ground halts it's forward motion. The area in front of the loot-hole seems to be mostly trampled over.
Jaiyana remained silent throughout the exchange, keeping her flail in hand and paying careful attention to their foes, but turns to the Viscount after seeing him interact with the bandits and use his magic trick. "I enjoy your company more with each passing moment," she comments matter-of-factly.
"There are caltrops along the ground--I can see them cleared by the branch. I can guide us through them. I do not see any other traps. Except, of course, the log. It may be there to prevent, or facilitate, a collapse."
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A non issue.
With a sweep of his hand and a few muttered words of arcana,the ground in front of the Viscount begins swirling, as if an invisible broom was sweeping the dust away. Caught in the flurry are any Caltrops; it's slow but thorough. A minor trick for the trained... I can't tell you how many hours of pointless chores I've avoided.
To Jaiyana the feeling is completely mutual, my dear. I would be lost without the essential aid of my stalwart comcompanions.
the Ornelos family motto: if it can be done, it can be done better with magic.
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After the battle dies down.
I couldn't help but notice your expression when I mentioned dealing with devils. It's true, my training in the Art was knee deep in devils and demons and the minions of hell. My extended family, particularly the Korvosan clan, trade in them. They summon them and bind them to their will. What you've seen me command are figments; replications of the most minor powers infused into normal animals. They are not the horrors that my cousins collaborate with. he pauses, polishing the Medusa-shaped head of his cane with a silk cloth. He swallows before he begins again, meeting Lucon in the eye. The minor powers are no different than tapping into fire or water, and no more dangerous. You have nothing to fear from my summons. The real danger is dealing with the devils directly. Any that have independent will; any summons that allows them to cross the threshold into our world rather than making a copy- that is what you should fear. For harnessing the power of those devils is never free. There's always an exchange of power, a bargain. Devils do not play lightly with humans. Souls, themselves, are often the currency. Had I not left my family, I might someday have learned those bindings. Now I shudder at the very notion of the devilkind sneaking their way past my defenses. I will grow in power, but only to fight such deplorable acts.
The group, aided by Enko and the Unseen Sweeper, makes it's way carefully down into the gully, and march up before the log. You all stand about 10' away from it, close to the opposite gully wall, the silence hanging heavy over the gathered. Occasional, discreet, glances between party members are exchanged, as if communicating their uncertainty and distrust of the off-kilter log and the short tunnel behind it. The two captives doing their level best to avoid looking directly at the log and the tunnel.
Finally Morl speaks up, "So you bunch of ninnies gonna go in their and get it or what? Forget the Hellknights and the bloody torturous death... I'm gonna die of boredom right here in this gully!"
The stones from Amons sling plunk away at the log, but the heavy thing refuses to budge or react. Corneleous directs his Unseen Sweeper to change careers and you all watch a length of rope wind its way around the log and tie itself off. The knot is simple, but stays tied.
When Lucon and several others tug on the rope several times, it finally topples over. You see a rope was attached to the log, on the side laying against the gully wall, and it is pulled tight when the log falls. For a moment nothing happens, but then a rush of head-sized stones fall over the edge of the gully wall, landing on the log and a good 10' spread all around it and the hole. You're able to sidestep and move back quite easily to avoid stubbed toes, but if anyone would have been under that deluge, the last thing on that beings mind would be treasure.
Once the dust has settled, several of you move the rocks out of the way and see what Belagio had hidden.
You find:
- gp
- 17 pieces of fine jewelry (30g each)
- 2 mwk jeweled rapiers
- 1 locked leather-bound ledger
- 1 pouch of dried and shriveling eyeballs of differing colors and in various states of decay
- small locked chest
Corneleous's notices a magic aura around the chest, but on no other objects.
Jaiyana's eyes widen at the sight of so much coin gathered in one place and angrily thinks of the method used to collect it, and nearly gags at the sight of the eyes. She is no stranger to violence and bloodshed, but the decaying eyes were simply a disgusting sight. As the Viscount inspects the chest's magical properties, the ranger moves to carefully search it for traps.
"We should load these up and return them to their rightful owners," says Enko.
"I agree. But how do we know how much belongs to whom?" Jaiyana concurs after inspecting the small chest . "Perhaps this will give use a clue; mayhaps Belagio was the orderly sort," she finishes motioning to the locked ledger. The warrior slides a couple of picks from pockets in her leather armor and sets to work on the lock.
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Amon, I have heard of magic that forces men to speak only the truth. However, I believe that the power is divine in origin. Something like that might help us discern who is telling the truth. However, I am not sure we are willing to expose ourselves to such attention on the public. Perhaps there's a way for us to give the money and loot to a needy group. We may even wish to reinvest the funds to help the Torchbearers grow. Perhaps those who have lost an eye, the ones who have suffered most, should be helped first? Do you know of any magic that can reattach an eye plucked out?
to the others:
My friends, let us not dally here longer. These two ruffians need to be dealt with, and we have other troubles in the city. The cooperative one, we may yet find use for. The mouthy one, we may wish to deliver to the Hellknights directly!
The Viscount has expended a great deal of his power for the day, and his large frame almost sags with exhaustion.
Enko looks to the horses and back to the group.
"It should be fairly easy to track down recently eyeless merchants who came this way. We know one, and Yakopulio should be able to find the rest. Let them assemble and place their claims, but that can be the concern of others--AC, for example, who is still busy at the books if I recall. Our mission is merely to deliver Balagio; let's do that swiftly."
"We also have a funeral to prepare." Enko busies himself with wrapping up Tavi for one final journey back to Westcrown, leaving the loot inspection to the others, but eyeing the horses to make sure that there is enough room for all of the items.
Corneleous's concentration reveals the presence of a weak conjuration spell near the lock of the chest and a stronger magical presence inside, the wood distorting the stronger aura enough so he cannot determine its school of magic.
Jaiyana does find the chest is trapped, and knows that opening the lock while avoiding setting off the trap is doable, but at the edge of her skill. She does have more success opening the ledger, and finds its contents are written in a language perhaps unfamiliar.
The two captives sit dejected as the loot is taken out and examined and their respective fates discussed.
The caravan decides to limp back to town before heading out on the road again. The Torchbearers round up their horses and Tavi's body, treating it with care and respect. They mingle amongst the caravan as they make their way back to town, returning the horses and ending up back at their base of operations. Arael and the rest great them with enthusiastic cheers and congratulations, until they see the wrapped body of Tavi... then a saddened hush falls over the group. Janiven steps forward, "What happened?" she says, getting right to the point, her features tight in sadness.
"She fought well. Her spirit will be rewarded, wherever it has gone." Enko pauses and looks at Jaiyana, remembering the goblins in the tunnels. "She was a friend."
Enko appears to have something in his eye all of a sudden, possibly some dust from the trail.
Janivens head bows in sadness, and when she raises her head again you can see her eyes glisten wetly, "Yes she was, and a hero. She shall be remembered as such." There are many sad faces, and even some crying. Arael steps forward, his voice shaky but maintaining a strong front for those under his care, "This was supposed to be better news, but now seems as good a time as any. I'd like to introduce you all to a new friend of mine who I'm coming to trust quite strongly. She's already been on several missions with Janiven, and some of the others, and I feel she'd do the most good for the Torchbearers working with all of you. May I introduce, Ava Wavesdotter." Arael puts a hand on the smaller dwarven ladies shoulder and guides her to stand next to him. After a moment resumes, "Things are going well for us, your efforts in particular are drawing public attention and we are making sure the credit is going to the right place. The fall of Belagio will further bolster our reputation. I propose we take a few days to put our affairs in order, grieve for the fallen, and resupply. There is a major task ahead of us, and I think it'll challenge the Torchbearers like nothing has yet. As always, if you need to rest here, please feel free." With that he moves over to Tavi's body and bows his head, his lips moving imperceptibly.
The stone-faced dwarf steps forward following Arael's introduction, giving the group a solemn nod. Her skin is pale and grey almost to the point of illness, and her locks are long and dark. From her pallid expression to her colourless clothes, nothing about her seems particularly warm or welcoming. She folds her arms behind her back as she speaks, carefully appraising the group before her.
"It is under unfortunate circumstances we meet. I offer my condolences." A pause. Her words are as cold as her demeanor, and her expression unreadable. "As you have been informed, I go by the name of Ava. Arael has told me of your progress, and I would consider it an honour to work alongside you. If you would have me, that is."
Enko nods at Ava in greeting, his eyes kind. "A friend of Arael's is a friend of ours, Ava. Welcome. I am Enko Laberan, a Child of the Upper Reach." He bows, righting with a half smile, saying, "May we fight well together."
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I take it that I need not expound upon my full title, m'lady. You may simply call me The Viscount, or Corneleous if dislike formalities. Well met. the Viscount extends his hand to his new friend.
Will Areal handle returning the goods?
Goblins next?
The viscount bids his leave from his fellows at the earliest opportunity to rest and recover his spells.
Arael and the other Torchbearers set to work identifying the stolen items and send Yakopulio out to gather a list of names of those who are in town and missing property... and an eyeball or two. She sets off grudgingly, not eager to return stolen goods -for some reason.
Her ensemble is colourless, consisting of a white shoulderless blouse and rigid leather bodice along with a pair of solid black boots and a pair of grey-brown breeches. A combination of the low cut and the stiff material of her bodice cause her ample bosom to ripple like water when she walks - a distracting sight to say the least. She wears a holster for her axe and hammer on a leather baldric slung over her right shoulder and has numerous pouches and pockets on both her belt, bodice and pants.
Ava goes through the motions of greeting everyone, shaking hands and memorizing names. Some of these faces she has seen before, brief flashes of recognition from her years of smuggling. As the events wind down she finds a place to sit and takes a careful inventory of her possessions, counting each coin twice, making sure that she isn't missing anything - simple busy-making as she keeps her ears open, listening out for anything interesting that might be mentioned.
Arael and Janiven are having an intense conversation, and Janiven asks that you return next week so the plan can be finalized.
Ava doesn't relish the idea of sitting about on her thumbs. She'll see what the general consensus is about going after the goblins and then find out what information the Torchbearers already have on Whitechin from Yakopulio. She'll try to push for it, but won't argue if it's heavily contested. Aside from being a chance to bolster the group's rep, it'll be a chance to observe and assess her new comrades, should that path be pursued. Not to mention the chance of finding something of value amongst the ruins.
Depending on what information we already possess, she might head out to gather some more intel from her various connections and/or ask Rat if he personally knows anything.
Tamili spends more than a little time earnestly following the Viscounts directions and instructions. She even tries her hand at writing a spell onto a scroll, failing miserably the first time, but then what budding mage doesn't? Corneleous also finds the time to procure some scrolls of his own, these ones complete and thrumming with readied magical power.
Ava's efforts with Yakopulio prove mostly fruitless, just confirmation of Whitechin's location. The fetching halfling does reveal that the eyes of some very 'lofty' are on Whitechins band and favor will definitely be bestowed upon the group that can bring him down. Next, Rat agrees to meet her in a dark alley, poking his head up from a large garbage pail like some freakish children's puppet. He reveals that the goblin band number more than 20 but less than 30, and there's rumors that Whitechin has some goblin magic users in his employ.
Fiosa is demure and soft-spoken the entire evening, but a smile is definitely on her face, flushed with happiness throughout the evening. As he bids her farewell, Fiosa's hand is definitely hesitant to release Amons before she turns and rushes back into the Shrine and to her secluded quarters there.
A still-reluctant Yakopulio returns to let you know that the goods you wished to return to their owners are now back. She made certain her girls name-dropped the Torchbearers as much as was appropriate. The sassy halfling also tosses you each a silver coin in thanks, as her whore-house has received triple its regular business once word got out that stolen goods were being returned from that location. Local authorities almost made trouble for her business but so many of Belagio's victims vouched so strongly for Yakopulio's house, The Red Dwarf, that the dotarri were forced to back off.
Enko meets with Mathalen and continues her training, showing her the exercise known as 'sticking hands' in which the two combatants maintain contact as they trade offense and defense.
He leaves one of Tavi's knives at the base of the statue of Aroden, and sits there in contemplation of impermanence for an hour. Later on, he finds more ragged clothes and leaves his meager gear in the Shrine, taking a roundabout path to the docksides of the Rego Scripa.
Sitting at the entrance to an alleyway near busy foot traffic with an alms bowl beside him, he does not look up when a deep voice says, "You look hungry."
He stares at the man's feet--large, muscles even on his toes, in sandals, not boots, and replies, "I appreciate anything you can give, sir."
The man grunts and drops few coppers into the bowl. Walking away, he counts the number of words in the sentence--seven--and makes his way to another district entirely, where he does business with a barrelmaker with a keen glint in his eye. "I'll be back next week for another seven barrels," he tells the cooper, and walks out.
The cooper idly tells a friend at the pub about falconry, who tells a messenger leaving the city of a torble repellent; the messenger rides North and passes a message along, and eventually, through many codes and cells, a hiker braves the Upper Reach and informs them simply that "Plans are proceeding. No assistance needed."