Barael sighs, as Briar brings his magicks out for more sniffing. "What? Gonna Nik some books, should they prove to be magic too?" Barael cleans the residue off of Black Tooth, illuminating it to inspect it, then dismissing the blade to sheathe it.
Briar doesn't find any obvious magical aura other then the one he placed on the broken window upstairs.
All you've done is a search of the house (taking 10 which is pretty good with this group). There are many spaces you haven't 'carefully searched' as that would take a considerable amount of time.
There is however nothing obvious. No dead end hallways or possible hidden passageways in the architecture. Just a very fine small manor house in Old Korvosa.
"There is nothing here. Didn't we have another place to go?" Briar asks the air itself and any Varisian in the nearby area.
"You forgetting the two dead bodies, Long-Lived? You have any courtesy magic that will keep those bodies from stinking before Vencarlo gets back? You know, maybe that thing you did to Fondo's scarf. That would do, wouldn't it?"
Barael readies to leave. "We could kill a couple of birds with a sling stone by visiting the orphanage, check on Laura, and ask the Sables... Wait. So the Sables, are they still guarding the home? And do we dare be seen at the place, in case the Mantis grow too curious, and start keeping track of our interests? That might rule out a visit to Aroden as well." Barael looks flummoxed.
"You have any courtesy magic that will keep those bodies from stinking before Vencarlo gets back? You know, maybe that thing you did to Fondo's scarf. That would do, wouldn't it?"
Briar snorts derisively, then adds an eye roll.
Me? Waste my magics on that?
"Of course. Drag the bodies into the fireplaces and I'll unleash my 'powerful magics'," Briar makes the 'powerful magics' finger and hand gestures to emphasize the power of the magic. "Yeah, do that, and I'll take care of the rest."
Fondo takes the time to properly search the office and bedroom but turns up nothing. It's as if he vanished mid thought.
You know the painter lives somewhere in Old Dock, and likely along the Narrows - but exactly where is uncertain. He is supposed to be a famous painter though. Surely someone might know where to find him.
"Salavator? I love his work. Visited his studio one time. It's just down the way."
Barael sniffs the room, trying to detect the smell of burning. Satisfied that the smell lingers strongly enough, consents to move the bodies to the fireplace. "Alright then. Let's be done with them, and head off to the Narrows."
"Where we going, Brov?"
"Are we going then?" She looks at the miserable gathering of threads in her hands, then at the picked clean walls. Not enough... knew it wouldn't be. She can't do it all on her own...
The party gets ready to head out just about lunch time, walking through the city on their way to visit the mad painter and following Nikolay's directions.
Though the streets are nearly devoid of adults, there are some children playing a couple streets over as you walk. You catch a glimpse as you move nearby on your way to the Narrows of Old Dock.
A flock of incongruously happy children sing a rhyme as they gather around something in the middle of the street “Headless, headless, that’s what you’ll be, brand new dolls in the Emp’rer’s ceme’try! Choppy, choppy, chop, the tall knife calls, waitin’ for the day for Korvosa to fall.” One of the children has fashioned an odd object from sticks and pegs—a crude guillotine that the children are using to behead a collection of dolls.
Fondo walks up to the children with good cheer. "You've quite a game there, little ones. Where'd you learn it?"
Briar pretends not to hear the children but fails.
This is how children are raised here? Explains a lot.
Barael relates as best he can to the kids, and tumbles towards them, trying to disarm their suspicions with some bumblejacks.
He leaves the talking to Fondo. He tries to maneuver his act so once he's done, he's largely past the pack of pubescents.
Nikolay pauses a moment to stare at the kids (with detect magic) and determine if there is something going on + (Knowledge (arcana) +13, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +7, Knowledge (local) +14, Knowledge (planes) +7,) or if these kids are just twisted by their environment. Assuming he doesn't notice anything alarming, he continues on past the kids and leaves them to their game.
The kids look up as the party approaches and scatters into the wild. One poor boy doesn't quite make it though and is boxed in by Barael's flank and Fondo's presence.
He looks up, clearly frightened at the large mismatched gang surrounding him. With quivering lip, he answers Fondo "I d-d-d-don't know?"
Nikolay, after a few rounds to bleed out the parties magics and focus, senses no magic on the boy or the toy guillotine. As far as he can tell, they're just being twisted by their environment.
He will also try his Diplomacy on any children who are at the periphery of Fondo's little group. Offering food if we have any.
"Who's watching you guys? Have you eaten today? What has life been like here recently?"
Does this creepy nursery rhyme sound familiar?
Charlie - the other children have all fled the scene. The nursery rhyme is new to you, but then it's been a while since you've been singing them.
The remaining child looks at the weathered Charlie with fear clearly written across his face. His hands shake a little as you approach. He seems more scared to death than anything else, and his answers seem honest enough. He's not hiding anything, he's just a frightened little boy.
"No one I guess? I don't know..."
He looks to run, but sees no openings in the party's shrinking circle.
Barael tussles the boy's rat's nest of hair, before stepping back and to the side, providing the opening the boy so desperately needs.
"We didn't mean to frighten you, master Executioner. Please pardon me and my friends, so we might keep our heads this day."
At being touched by the big evil tumbling man, the boy wets himself. On seeing an avenue for safety he runs, and runs hard, leaving his toys behind.
While the party is a big scary group, his reactions did seem at least a little more frightened than you'd expect. Still, none of you are exactly parent material.
Barael picks up the toy guillotine, looks it over, and pockets it.
Briar stands bored awaiting for the party to finish scaring the children and stealing their toys. He spends the time keeping an eye out.
Barael has to touch everything. Why does he have to touch everything? Trying to get a grip on the world maybe?
"This place is ghostly. Let's keep moving."
Salvator’s home is a leaning, decrepit building located on the Narrows exactly where Nikolay leads, not far from one of the many now-ruined bridges that once connected Old Korvosa to the mainland. As you approach you see an old woman trapped in the doorway to the house, pinned down by an Otyugh recently risen from a sinkhole nearby.
You quickly and efficiently dispatch the beast and see to the woman's largely superficial injuries. She explains she is Old Mother Mifeg and that she makes a living selling colored fungi for pigments. She mutters and sobs, worrying that she won't make enough money now with the artists gone to support her six children.
Laughing, a female elf calls out from the side of the building, "Oh go on, give her a few gold. It's all the wretch wants and she'll be on her way. I like the way you handled the Otyugh, and if you're seeking Salvitor Scream - we have something in common."
The elf wears tight fitting hook chain armor and wields a spiked chain. She has a small pack on her back, a pair of wrist sheathes, and a holy symbol to Zon-Kuthon. She has long dark hair and clear bright eyes. She walks to the front door and opens it. "Shall we go inside and talk? There's no one here, and hasn't been for a few days I think."
Briar smiles at the elf.
Finally, someone civilized to speak with.
"Do you have a name, elf-sister?"
Know (religion) Zon-Kuthon
Fondo waves at the fleeing child. And we were so friendly, too. "Keep safe, little one." He keeps moving toward surrealism.
. . . . .
"What business would a worshipper of the Midnight Lord have with Salvatore? Let us speak out in the open." Fondo gives Briar a look. Does Korvosa have a special attraction for psychotic elves?
Zon-Kuthon is the god of pain and an evil god, but more than that Briar's not sure. Fondo gains a bit more knowledge - he knows that Zon-Kuthon possesses one of the most twisted and evil minds in the multiverse. His position as god of pain is well earned, and he has been the root of countless tortures, murders and worse throughout time.
"Sure, we can speak here if you like" she leans comfortably against the wall. "I want to speak to Salvator because his art has a lot of themes important to Zon-Kuthon’s faith. Frankly, I just love what he does with a canvas." She cleans a little fuzz off one of the hooks in her armor.
"We lead collectively, Daughter of Pain. Tis interesting to see you sporting your hooks and barbs so publicly. I had thought your little cult to be taboo." Fondo smiles in an ingratiating way that does not conceal the intended insult.
"Aye, we can speak plain, we can. That means speaking in a language everyone in the room can understand, understand?"
Barael is already on edge, with talk of Pain, and Midnight, and looks of chain and barb.
Briar sighs deeply as the Varisian rudely interrupts his elven conversation with the she elf.
"Forgive their intrusion. These Varisians do not have a good handle on manners or the good sense not to interrupt," Briar says in perfect Elven.
"I am no stranger to the ways of pain...I endure much from my present company." Briar looks at his supporting cast and frowns briefly.
"However, enough talk of religion. Where is Salvator now? Where was he last seen? We would have words with him as well."
Fondo laughs and murmurs in Varisian.
"Funny how similar the Taldan word for pain is to the Elven. Coincidence?"
"Yeah, go on then. Get the conversation done with, and call me when you're ready to include everyone in the next steps." Barael walk off, looking for a good shadow to keep a lookout while the others talk.
Barael mutters under his own breath, to himself, and himself alone.
Briar nods to the retreating and en-pained Barael and returns his attention to the she elf.
To Fondo she says, "Well, we're not exactly in public now are we? Old Korvosa has been cut off and is ruled by the mob now it seems. Besides, Korvosa is an accepting place - as long as I follow the law - and I do!"
She thinks a moment longer, "I'll even sweeten the deal. I found something while searching this house. Something that may be a clue. Certainly it will mean more to you than to me I think. If you agree, I'll give you this... item as a show of good faith on my part."
She laughs.
"Poor man, it is not I who preclude you but rather your own ignorance of the tongue. But that language you speak now, it is not one I know so I'm afraid I must show my ignorance too."
She laughs again at Briar's comment and possibly his interest.
I like her moxie. And her sweet briars. Briar eyes her spikes.
Briar nods and explains, in degrading Common, what she said in the Elven spoiler above.
"Meh. We got nothing else going on...and if you can't trust an elf, who can you trust?"
Nearly anyone. "I trust most elves within arms reach. So let us be bosom friends for now. But not too bosom. Twould be a pity to get a snag in my scarf." Fondo settles into keeping a wary eye on both elves. If murdering elves are your fancy, so be it. That clap's for you, not me, Brother Rose.
"We should go, if we're going to." We have no time for distractions; even ones as interesting this.
Briar begs pardon of the Elf Lady and looks to Nikolay, Charlie, and Barael.
"So what do you say, Varisians? Do we want her aid?"
Briar asks a question that had been bothering him.
"Why us? Why would you ally yourself with us? What makes you think we are worthy?"
Barael slowly makes his way back towards the party, and the elven painlass. He seems to be listening for a reason to keep his distance, but when he hears the discussion being spoken in the pure language of common, he relents.
"I'm in. Another set of eyes on the problem, trying to locate the artist." Barael eyes the barbs on the elf's clothing. "She looks completely harmless to me. Those barbs look nothing like the sawtooth blades that just tickled my ribs, from the inside."
Looks can be deceiving, Brov. Especially elven looks.
"What've you to tell us of Old Korvosa? Mere days and it seems another world. With the tyrant's maids keeping folk in, what if anything passes for order?"
"So, the evil elven lady will lead us to some other evil people who she hopes we will kill while rescuing Salvator?"
"Sounds like a win-win situation to me."
Fondo winks at Nikolay. "It's the civilized, elven way."
"Who said she was evil? Many servants of gods worship close aspect, but do not fully embrace every path." Briar turns to the elf lass.
"What would you say to that? Are you evil? Will you keep your word to us?"
"Yes, tell us, Laori. Are you wicked? Or have you found some gain in Pain?"
"Do we have any assurance that you do not intend to double cross us? Are you looking for our artist friend to kill him? What exactly are you after I wonder?"