"Can we bring Vancaskerkin in here to hear this?" Caulder asks hopefully. The expression on his face says that shattering Verik's mushy-headed idealism about his followers and the righteousness of his cause would just about make his week.
"What you *have* been doing to the people, Baldrago?"
"What you mean?" Baldrago is having a hard time focusing his attention on both Caulder and Esmerelda. "Cow Hammer Boys are best boys! Is late, but we get rid of troublemakers." He seems to be repeating from memory, "Justice slow, we help it along."
"And who taught you that little motto about 'helping justice?'" Caulder growls. If the man seems confused by his intervention, he steps back and gestures to Esmerelda to repeat the question.
"What did you do to the troublemakers, Baldrago?" Esme asks with a veneer of patience.
Baldrago is drawn into a world of uncertainty, and tries to cling to what he knows. "Justice! They dead! Won't hurt none anymore." His words are like stammers and his eyes are moist. "Where's Malder?" He's pulled in his legs and rocking slightly back and forth to comfort himself.
Pagrip moves from the door. "So you killed them? That's your justice? They won't hurt anybody anymore, you say. I suppose that's true, but you've gone and hurt people yourselves in order to carry out your justice. By your justice, we should kill you now. Then somebody else should kill us, and then yet another person should kill the ones who killed us, and so on and so on. Is that what you want? Everyone killing everyone else? Not very good justice if you ask me."
Baldrago looks up from his rocking, straight at Pagrip. His eyes are filled with an odd mixture of confusion and dawning comprehension. "I'm not bad? Am I bad?" His hands shake and he looks down to them. "Am I bad?" He rubs his hands together, almost scrubbing, as if trying to scrape of unseen memories.
"Sounds like Malder's our next stop," Caulder mutters. "One of them's the ringleader, and it's sure not this one."
"... and by that justice, I should be killed for handling Lamm."
"Right, to Malder's cell?"
Malder's face is twisted in hateful rictus when Caulder opens the barred door to his cell. "What the f+%* do you want?"
"Just trying to find out who's the chief philanthropist," Caulder grins at him. "Your friend in there referred us to you. You the genius behind the Cow Hammer Boys and their mission of justice?"
"That was less a question and more a statement, Maldar. Just what were you thinking you were doing?"
"Stuff it priest man," Malder's disdain is obvious, "what you care, we going to hang for desertion."
There's a rapping behind Caulder and Esmerelda at the cell door, a guard has pushed himself past Pagrip and Ten. Even though he is talking to everybody, he addresses Esmerelda directly: "The Field Marshall asks you see her immediately; it is a matter of some urgency. If you please." He beckons the way.
"Very well, Caulder carry on here, I will go see what the Field Marshall requires. I hope she has gotten some rest in the meanwhile." To the guard Esme adds "Thank you. I hope this didn't take you too far from your duties. I will hasten to the Field Marshall." Esme takes her leave and briskly walks to the Field Marshall.
"My apologies if I wasn't clear; she would like for all of you to attend."
"Looks like you've gotten yourself a lucky break," Pagrip says to Malder. "Enjoy it while you can because we'll be back." He follows Esmerelda.
"Hanging, eh?" Caulder comments cheerfully as they leave the cell. "You think they'll hang our lovelorn philanthropist too, Darkbane?" he asks, referring to Verik. "Or just bust him down from officer to boot-licking scum?"
"Mmm. They tend to take desertion seriously. So will probably follow the letter of the law and make an example out of him. A bit sad really. Compassion and understanding can instil loyalty better than fear."
"Well, you can't argue with the letter of the law," he agrees, "and a public hanging's a damned fine occasion to encourage any other would-be deserters who may be wavering to buck up and honor their obligations. Still, he'll probably only go to his death with his head still full of moony thoughts about being heroically misunderstood. I'd rather see him broken first by hard labor and hear him admit he was wrong. Might be a better deterrent in the long run if he could tell his story to young recruits and help them avoid his mistakes." He heaves a long sigh and runs his hand over his jaw. "I'm probably going soft," he admits ruefully.
When the four arrive at Cressida's office, she is not alone. A handsome man of developed age. Cressida smiles, genuinely, as she introduces him as: "Vencarlo Orsini - an outspoken critic of Korvosa's government for years now, and a trusted friend and adviser."
Vencarlo Orsini is one of Korvosa's most renowned and respected teachers of the honorable arts of fencing and swordplay. His school, Orsini Academy, is in the northern suburb Old Korvosa.
Vencarlo for his part rises as the party enters, bowing deeply as he's introduced. He kisses the back of Esmerelda's hand and offers her his chair - the only one other than the Field Marshall's. "If Korvosa had more fine folk like you four, we'd already be out of this mess. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Caulder's eyes narrow as the man is described as a critic of the government. He gives him a grudging nod and waits to see what this is all about.
Pagrip smiles broadly and steps forward. He holds out his hand. "Mister Orsini, a great pleasure to meet you! I've heard a bit about you. You run a fencing academy, don't you?"
Fine folk?
Ten regarded the stranger suspiciously. He didn't need another upperclass gentleman in his life.
Orsini nods to the dwarf, shaking his hand firmly. "You are Pagrip Staurmbar, right? Indeed! The academy has been my pride and joy for well onto two decades now. A number of former students have made a name for themselves in the Varisian wilds, or right here in Korvosa." The man is gregarious and well-informed, "Judging by Abadar's signatures, you must be Caulder Baradin and Esmerelda Darkbane. A fitting duo to bring some order into this madhouse that is Korvosa in these times." He also offers a firm handshake to Ten, "And finally you are Tendrizu, a man of alternate means I'm given to understand." His perception is sharp, almost uncannily, evident when he adds, "I've not been informed of your new companion Tendrizu; a recent acquisition or experiment?"
Esme remains standing as she listens to what Orsini has to say. "Charmed, I am sure" she intones sarcastically "Ah, excuse me. It seems Caulders mannerisms are rubbing off. Ignoring Ten's mobile growth for now, why is it that we have the pleasure of your acquaintance?"
The Field Marshall intervenes before Orsini can explain:
"As much as I would enjoy continuing the conversation, I fear we just don’t have time. Vencarlo has often come to me with news of important changes on the streets, and this is no different—indeed, what he’s learned could degrade into sanctions, embargos, or even war against Cheliax if we don’t act now. This problem is a man named Darvayne Gios Amprei. You might have heard of him—he’s an ambassador from Cheliax whose disdain for Korvosa is well documented, and yet he’s taken great pleasure in what our city has to offer. Even before this recent unrest, this man was ready to recommend to his government a sanction on trade, or perhaps even an embargo. Vencarlo has learned through his own considerable sources that Ambassador Amprei’s actual goals are to undermine Korvosa’s economy to the point where he can buy up large portions of the city from desperate landholders and establish himself in a position of power here. Whatever the ambassador’s reasons, we can’t let his bias or personal plans hurt Korvosa. Yet neither can we take drastic action—not only would killing him be wrong, but it’d simply martyr him in Cheliax’s eyes."
Here Orsini picks up the flow: "Fortunately, Darvayne has his foibles. I've learned that Ambassador Amprei has been making fairly regular visits to a place in Old Korvosa called Eel’s End. This den of vice is run by a dangerous man named Devargo Barvasi, better known in Korvosa’s alleys as the King of Spiders."
Cressida continues again, "I’d love to put Barvasi out of business, but he pays his vice taxes regularly and never causes any problems—in fact, since he keeps his business constrained entirely within the five ships moored at Eel’s End, he’s actually one of the least of my worries. Truth be told, I can’t decide whether Devargo is a stirge or a kraken. He seems like a bloodsucking pest most days, but sometimes I fear just how far his tentacles have wormed their way into our great city. In this case though, his insidious web stretching across Korvosa’s underworld might prove to our advantage."
"Devargo would never let someone he recognizes as an ally of the Guard into Eel’s End, but your group’s a different case. I’d like you to pay a visit to Eel’s End and secure an audience with Devargo. Find out what he knows about Amprei, get proof of any illicit goings-on the ambassador might be involved with, and bring that proof to me to use to undermine any forthcoming attempts by him to get Cheliax to cut us off. Devargo might not be willing to part with his information easily. I’ll supply you with some gold to bribe him, and whatever’s left over you can keep for yourself. Remember: the man is dangerous, but so are you—if things get violent, I wouldn’t mourn his passing."
The delineation of the planned economic terrorism sets Caulder at a slow burn. "That would be a crime against Abadar himself! This Amprei will find that the Master of the First Vault won't suffer such effrontery," he growls, running his fingers distractedly over his holy symbol.
Cressida senses the quiet broil in Caulder and cautions him, "Don't get carried away; this needs to be handled cautiously - we cannot act against Amprei directly, Korvosa couldn't withstand another big threat from Cheliax. No, we need dirt on this man, so that the political machine will get him instead."
"Very well. We shall pay this Devargo a visit. Though I would sooner throw Devargo in jail if any of his wrong doings become apparent."
"A new experiment... one that doesn't seem to listen to instruction," Ten replied. Then to Reginald: "Reginald, I told you to stay under my shirt when we're meeting new people. Don't look at me like that." Ten pauses, shaking his head and sighing loudly, "You know I that I didn't mean it like that. Let's just behave in front of the nice people and we'll talk about this later."
Both Cressida and Orsini grin at Esmerelda's statement, though Orsini is quick to add, "Korvosa would be better off, that is certain Lady Darkbane. But Devargo is not only a slippery spider, he's able to put pressure on a number of important people - if you'd see him jailed, make sure to back it up with damning evidence." With concern he addresses the whole party, "I've not seen your skills in action, but I do know that the King of Spiders is an exceedingly dangerous man - swallowing your distaste and dealing with him may be your only option."
The Field Marshall takes note of the hour, "Time is pressing, don't let me detain you. Oh, and priest Caulder, I would appreciate a written report on All the World's Meat after tomorrow - if you can find the time."
"Ma'am." He all but clicks his heels in acquiescence but hesitates at the doorway. "I know your time is valuable, ma'am, but if I might claim another moment of it? Questioning the deserters, we heard talk of hanging. For the record, I'd like to put in a word in favor of clemency for Vancaskerkin. There's many a man who doesn't get his priorities straight until he's lost everything. The others, they've got nothing to lose but their lives, but Vancaskerkin has rank, some position, the regard of some mysterious woman. Take all that away, ma'am, with long imprisonment and hard labor, and he could come out of it an invaluable resource to Korvosa. There's no loyalty like that of a man who has nothing else to distract him from his duty."
"I second Cleric Baradin's recommendations. This mysterious woman has a strong hold on him. I find it distasteful that we could not uncover the identity of the one that has the power to usurp the loyalty of good men."
Cressida raises an eyebrow, but then nods, "Let the report speak of the pros and cons, I'll review it and decide then."
"Den of vice, eh? Sounds like it might be someplace you'd be more likely to be familiar with, citizen," Caulder suggests to Ten as they leave the Field Marshal. "No offense." He waits to see if either Ten or Pagrip has any personal knowledge of their destination.
"None taken, Banker." Ten replied, "Eel's End... I may have heard something about it before..."
The last pier in Old Korvosa moors the Eel's End, a decommissioned warship, along with four other slightly smaller vessels. The ships are for most intents and purposes a permanent fixture of the pier. Across the five ships sprawl various dens of sin and vices catering for any number of base needs for those who can afford it.
Devargo, the Spider King, is the man who pockets a share of all dealings at Eel's End. The ship with the same name that he stays in acts as his stronghold and administrative center. The other ships are owned by other peddlers and captains that pay a hefty rent for the privilege of mooring at Eel's End.
Devargo himself is known for his cruelty and fondness for spiders. He's easily bored and known for his deadly fighting style.
"I know Eel's End," Pagrip says. "Den of vice is a pretty good description of it. It's at the end of the piers in Old Korvosa and is made up of five old ships, a decommissioned warship and four others. Across the five ships are all sorts of dens of vice and sin. They cater to just about any...uh...need you can think of. If you've got the money for it, that is. As for Devargo, I'm afraid I don't know much about him beyond what the Field Marshal has already told us. It should be a fun place to visit." It's clear that his last sentence is sarcasm.
Esmerelda nods, a little grimly, "He sounds delightful, how much gold do we have to work with?"
Cressida hands her five subtle pouches, each jingling quite pleasantly. "There's 20 platinum in these, make them count."
The paladin hands one of the pouches to Pagrip, Ten and Caulder, filling one of the pouches evenly into the others such that there are 25 pieces to each pouch, "Okay, this should keep our resources safe. Let's go see this scourge and remind him that his loyalties lie with this city."
"Or at least that's where they'd better lie...," Caulder growls, as he tucks the pouch away safely. "Lead the way, gentlemen, since you're so familiar with the place," he smirks suggestively at Ten and Pagrip.
"Pagrip, perhaps we should decide on a safe word for Caulder. I'm half afraid that the ladies at Eel's End may frighten him into giving up those newly acquired platinum pieces."
"Right, let's be off. Do any of you want to stop anywhere along the way?"
"I have a tithe burning a hole in my pocket," Caulder pats his tunic. "If we could stop by the Bank on the way, I'm sure Darkbane wants to make a contribution to the vaults from her share of the reward, as well."
"Right you are Caulder," Esmerelda's eyes glow with righteous charity, "it won't even be out of our way. Come Pagrip, Ten, wake-up you two! There's a spider's web we need to head into."
The trip to the Bank is uneventful, though things heat up a bit while they are there. It appears that Esmerelda's children are making a concerted effort at bringing the place out of order - and the exasperated expressions of the two acolytes assigned to them makes it clear that they've had more successes than defeats.
The paladin sighs inwardly, but waves away the problems for now; quelling the irate murmurs with a worldly contribution to the coffers of the Bank.
Afterwards the journey to Eel's End is but a scant walk, the den of vice and corruption is less than a mile from the Bank, even when accounting for the turbulent and unpredictable alleyways.
Would Pagrip or Ten know the function of each of the ships? We could use that information to plan our approach.
The closest ship is the Goldenhawk, the typical place of rest for those that have over-indulged. A cheap but crummy floating inn.
Twin Tigers houses the gambling hall; the presence of enforcers is obvious here.
A pleasure boat, the House of Clouds is the place to go for negotiable affection.
The ship Dragon's Breath deals in drugs and various dream-inducing substances.
Is, of course, the Eel's End herself - the lair of the Spiderking.
As they approach the group of ships, Pagrip pauses. "Right, let me see if I remember this right," he says. "That first one on the right is an inn. A pretty crappy one, as I understand, but still an inn. Just past that is the House of Clouds, or something like that. It's a pleasure boat where you can buy...well, pleasures, if you know what I mean. The first one to the left is the gambling hall, and past that is the drug den. Dragon's Breath I think it's called. The big one at the end is Eel's End itself."
"So to see Barvasi, that's where we'd go, right? The big one at the end?"
Pagrip nods. "That's the one. Unless he's out. But I'd say that's certainly the one to start with."