Yanis pulls out his card, slipping his mask from his face to reveal is darker than normal skin.
"indeed I did my friend, I assume we are here for the same reasons?"
-Posted with Wayfinder
"Got a bone to pick with the old Lamm too?"
"I do yes. He keeps the drugs flowing and the children parent less or enslaved. Not something I can allow to happen."
-Posted with Wayfinder
"Yeah... the children are why I'm here. He's got two of my crew captive, and I gotta get them back, whatever the cost..."
Then, came a thought: Perhaps the good Doctor knew more than he did.
"Any idea where he's hiding, or who called us here, for that matter?"
"I am sorry but I do not. If I would have known who was seeking me I would have found something out about then first. You're missing 2 crew who are children?"
-Posted with Wayfinder
"Yeah. Us street punks need to stick together, and I can't have thugs picking on the little ones."
Io crouches on the rooftop. It looks like there are people outside of the building, and one of them is holding a card similar to the one she found. She narrows her eyes, and strains her ears, trying to catch even a hint of their conversation. One of them, a tall human man, seems familiar to her somehow. She tries to place where she knows the fighter from. The other one, who just took off a strange mask, is unfamiliar to her.
Just as an FYI to Yanis and Headsman, Machaera is there as well and just opened the door.
.
The interior of this small, humble home consists of a single cozy chamber filled with a fragrant haze of flowers and strong spice. The aroma comes from several sticks of incense smoldering in wall-mounted burners that look like butterfly winged elves. The smoke gives the room a dream feel. The walls are draped with brocaded tapestries, one showing a black skulled beast juggling human hearts, and another showing a pair of angels dancing atop a snow-blasted mountain. A third tapestry on the far wall depicts a tall hooded figure shrouded in mist, holding a flaming sword in a skeletal hand. Several brightly colored rugs cover the floor, but the room's only furnishings are a wooden table covered by a bright red throw cloth and several elegant, tall-backed chairs. A basket covered by blue cloth sits under the table. No one is visible at present.
"Hello?" Headsman calls out, hesitating for a moment then walking into the house's entranceway.
"Is anyone here?"
He looks around, hoping to find a note or some other indication of absence.
“The more I find out about this creature… I’m afraid my own reasons for finding Lamm are more personal: he tried to foist the blame for a murder on the wrong person. Bone to pick, axe to grind, spells to sling, chemicals to set fire to – there’s no reason to limit our options,” Machaera’s voice is light, despite the viciousness of her words, but her small smile is like a knife.
Still, she’s surprised herself. Nerves, she thinks, And it looks like someone’s taking things rather hard, to say nothing of taking ‘giving them what they want’ a step too far. What happened to not letting what you’ve seen take over?
Trying to get her ruthless streak back under control, Machaera focuses on the younger man’s – almost boy’s, really – words, and she feels another twinge of compunction. She’s had her share of bad luck and then some, but people with her connections and resources find it infinitely easier to bounce back. She knows, too, that these children must be exceptionally vulnerable, and she is hardly equipped, mentally or otherwise, to devote the time they would need.
There is, too, the question of pride. It’s a piece of luck there’s a physician at hand, and Machaera directs her words to him, but keeps her eyes on the youth’s, “In any case – doctor, my interests are more … volatile, and I’m sure you have your own apothecary to work with, if you don’t compound your own medicines, but if ever you need an alchemist’s assistance, I would do my best.”
As she speaks, she feels the handle of the door turn in her hand, and she breaks off as she takes in the room she’s revealed. Its furnishings seem a bit eclectic at first glance, but surprisingly comfortable given the building’s outward appearance.
“Well, gentlemen?” Machaera offers. Without waiting for an answer, she steps inside and picks out a chair, seating herself primly upright and crossing her legs elegantly, as she clearly demonstrates her intention to wait patiently for her host. Despite the incongruity of her armour and assorted wizardly odds and ends, the ultimate effect is entirely ladylike.
Io, casting an eye around for anyone approaching, jumps down from the roof, rolling to reduce the impact, and springs up. She keeps her shield in her right hand as she enters the building, holding her card in the left. She walks quietly inside, looking around the strange place. Mindful of the illusion that brought here here, she keeps a keen eye out for any new ones that might be blanketing the inside.
The Black Merlin listens to the conversation taking place in front of the house as he makes his way to the back of the building. He studies the back of the building and any areas people waiting in ambush might be hiding.
"Yanis tilts his head questioningly at the woman, I am in process of learning how to mix my own Medicines, can never be to trustful of those who make drugs. I will keep you in mind for lessons though."
Yanis follows the two in to the entrance room,
"Quite a show of wealth, and interesting tastes in decorating."
Thank you for coming. I had to step out for a bit, but shall return shortly. Please have a seat while you wait. The basket under the table contains bread and drink for you.
It takes Headsman a few seconds longer than most to read the note, and makes particular note of the offered food. His stomach rumbles approvingly.
He looks under the table, seeing the aforementioned basket.
Look like there's enough to go around... and these folk don't look to me like they're too down on their luck...
After confirming that the others are busy looking around, Headsman stashes a bun away in the pocket of his raggy vest before taking a second one and taking a hearty bite. He'd been long overdue for a meal, but the handful of trail rations he had left in his bag might very well be all he'd have to eat for the next week or more.
He hated stealing like that. His father would have scolded him a thousand times. That being said, sometimes, survival had to come first. No one would miss the extra bun.
"Lookff like fomeone left uf a note-" Headsman begins, speaking through a mouthful of bread before swallowing it.
Only then does Headsman notice Io creeping in through the door. He says nothing, but his look pause makes it clear that he's aware of her presence. He looks quite pleased to see a familliar face, albeit puzzled by her stealthy entrance.
"They say they'll be back soon."
As eyes turns towards the bun he's suddenly holding, he adds, after an awkward pause, "Oh. And they left us some bread."
'An axe-man, a doctor, an alchemist and one that followed them in. What say we get a little closer and see what we can learn?' The Black Merlin takes a step off the side of the building and spreads his arms. The vigilante falls softly on his feet and press up against the building and edges close to the open door.
"I think we have no choice but to enter, and I don't think there's a reason for harm - other than the tight quarters for a brawl."
The Albatross tumbles down and proceeds to enter the front door.
At least we'll see how far the myth has reached.
Io walks into the building cautiously and quietly. Unfortunately, she treads on a loose floorboard and the resulting noise gives away where she is. She's puzzled for a minute upon seeing who's already in the building. She knows she's met him before, but she just can't place him.
She approaches, and then it hits her.
"Heads? Is that you?" she asks.
"You bet it's me! It's nice to see you too!"
Headsman approaches Io delightedly, clapping a hand against her back. Hard.
"Thanks for remembering the name," he adds, in a whisper.
"I think we have no choice but to enter, and I don't think there's a reason for harm - other than the tight quarters for a brawl."
[dice=acrobatics]1d20+8
The Albatross tumbles down and proceeds to enter the front door.
At least we'll see how far the myth has reached.
.
Io stumbles when Headsman claps her on the back, then regains her footing. She replaces her shield on her back, and turns to face the barbarian. "What are you doing here? I didn't realize you were back in the city! Actually, did you ever leave? I haven't seen you in what, a year and a half? Longer? I remember you had just started going by Headsman, eh, Tero?" she's struck by a sudden thought, and pulls a card out of her pocket, "Did you get one of these too?"
Heads frowns hard when Io uses his childhood name. He knew she meant no offense, but he'd hoped it wouldn't come up this early. He'd have to remind her later of what it meant to use it willy nilly.
"I couldn't leave. The street kids needed me, and I'm much too broke to go anywhere. Maybe I can hop a Varisian caravan once this is all over, find some work as a caravan guard, but for now, I need to deal with Lamm once and for all. What about you? After the old fart too?"
He reveals his card in response to hers. "The good Doctor over there had one too."
His attention turns to Machaera: "Did you receive a card as well?"
The Black Merlin drops his head and shakes it as the Albatross strolls past him through the entrance. He sighs as he stands up and checks the street one more time before following his masked companion. He stops immediately inside the door and steps left. He presses his back against the wall, watching the room, hoping his entrance went unnoticed and that his sudden appearance will unsettle the strangers.
People always ramble more when startled, give more away when they're scared.
"I think we have no choice but to enter, and I don't think there's a reason for harm - other than the tight quarters for a brawl."
[dice=acrobatics]1d20+8
The Albatross tumbles down and proceeds to enter the front door.
At least we'll see how far the myth has reached.
Yes it is. You can present your entrance as you see fit.
Machaera watches as another young person makes her appearance, one who seems to know the towering youth. She relaxes a bit on hearing their conversation. If they know each other, it’s less likely that this is a straightforward trap playing some of the guests against the others. After all, if this is all of us, the two of them could probably have quietly disposed of me and the doctor separately, without the theatrics. Still, one does hope our patron will arrive soon so we can get to the bottom of this.
Her nervous musings interrupted by Headsman’s question, she answers quietly, holding up the card in her lap again, “By all means. Since we’re obviously not all strangers, but you two have the advantage of us, please, why don’t you begin the introductions?”
A flicker of movement at the edge of her field of vision induces Machaera to continue unexpectedly, as another newcomer, a man dressed in a stark bird-like costume appears in the doorway. She arches a delicate brow in the direction of the masked physician she’s just briefly met, and asks lightly, coolly, “Friend of yours, doctor?”
"Of course. I'm Io." The brown-haired girl says, crossing her arms as she leans against the wall.
A hooded figure in white and gull grey walks confidently strides through the door, his cloak wavering in the wind and hugging against his silhouette on the western side. His face is covered by the long shadows of the hood, but what is visible is the predominant beak of a bird-like mask and eyes that stare knowingly.
There are whispers on the streets of Korvosa of such an image. Seen from the streets below running across roof tops and watching like a bird of prey; foreshadowing mysterious disappearances or discoveries of fallen filth secured with a light grey feather.
The masked man simply stops just inside the entrance, his eyes seeming to capture everything at once, patiently silent.
The nervous get uncomfortable with long pauses.
Io raises an eyebrow at the bird man's appearance. It wasn't just the mask and cloak, but more that everything about the man(?) felt like he was trying to make a dramatic entrance. After a few seconds of silence, Io walks over to the table, grabbing some bread from the basket, and takes a bite of it. She turns to the newcomer and says, with her mouth full of food, "Are you here for the worm? Sorry, the early bird already took it."
'Albatross has already eaten. We hunt for bigger prey than worms, Lamm's are our current meal of choice.' The Black Merlin steps forward to join Albatross. A lithe figure in black, the top half of his face covered by a steel, hawk beaked mask. His hand rests lightly on the chrome grip of an ornate pistol.
"I am Yanis Boulin, doctor of the slums here in Korvosa. I also have some questions for Lamm, more so in regards to stopping his exploitation of children and funneling drugs through the slums."
Yanis will adjust his bag and lean against the wall.
Machaera isn’t sure what to make of the grey and white cloaked figure, but she approves of his self-assured flair. Then again, she’s also tickled by Io’s response, but before she has a chance to continue the introductions, another bird-man emerges from the shadows near the door, and she has to make an effort not to let her jaw drop in surprise. How many of them are there?
Recovering herself, and making a mental note to find out where the latest arrival acquired such an uncommon weapon as a pistol, Machaera continues the banter, “Well, one for sorrow, two for mirth, three for a wedding, four for? – though I suppose only one of you so far really makes a crow.”
As Yanis tries to return the discussion to reason, she smiles apologetically and takes up the introductions where he left off. “Machaera Selanna, of -” she breaks off for a moment, “well, honestly, it’s been a very long time since I’ve been home, but home is still the Tower of Stars, I suppose.” Miss Selanna, also recently exonerated of the charge of being a mad murderess, but let’s not mention that, shall we?
"Oh, I see. In any case, while we wait for Albatross to show up, do you want some food? Even a loaf of bread is bigger than some worms, though smaller than mutton." Io smirks as she addresses the vigilantes.
[spoiler=Sense Motive DC ]
[dice=Bluff]1d20+
You can tell that Io is fully aware of what the Albatross is trying to say, and is intentionally ignoring that fact to poke fun of him.
"Friends call me Headsman," the Shoanti lad says, slouching into a chair. "It's a long story."
"And as for you two bird-masks, I'm guessing you're the two 'bird men' the urchins have been excited about. Hear you helped some of them out of a tight spot. Thanks."
"As for you, Doctor Boulin, I have a feeling I've heard your name before. Do you ever tend to the children of the street? Probably oughta thank you too. City needs more folk like you."
"So," he says, through a mouthful of bread. "Guessing we're all after the old sack? He's got two of my crew. Young kids. I've been there, but I'm made of solid stuff. I don't want them to have to go through what I did." He nods knowingly to Io. "I owe him some payback for the chains and the beatings, too."
"What are you lot after? He steal something from you? Kidnap one of yours? 'far as I know, old fart's got his dirty hands in just about everything."
"You know me, Heads. But they don't, so I'll say it for them." Io turns to the rest of the group, finishing off her bread as she does so, "Gaedren beat me and left me for dead on a garbage heap, after years of slavery. Figure the least I can do is return the favor." She smiles, but it doesn't seem to have any warmth in it. Rather, it feels more like a shark baring its teeth than a grin.
The Merlin nudges Albatross and chuckles. 'He's Albatross, I'm The Black Merlin. I want the man for murder, his, specifically.'
The Black Merlin scans the room, looking for evidence as to who summoned this particular group.
The Black Merlin scans the room, but sees nothing other then the note previously mentioned, and the basket of bread and wine that Headsman is currently partaking of.
Yanis looks as the Black Merlin and The Albatross enter the room, he stands and bows before the men.
"Good evening gentlemen, I am glad to know that Korvosa's protectors are here as well. Lamm shall be brought to justice for sure. Mr. Headsman I indeed have helped as many of the street children I possibly could and strive to do so each day."
As the group exchanges greetings and various salutations (or not), a woman walks through the door and says "Greetings, my fellow refugees from the street. Welcome to my home. I am Zellara Esmeranda, and would you be so kind as to take a seat?" She looks like this:
Io narrows her eyes. If this is the woman who summoned them, she's clearly a master illusionist, and she can't trust anything. She does her best to gauge Zallara's intentions, and keeps a watchful eye out for any illusions that she might have to conceal her appearance, and looks for any clues that might reveal something. For now, she stays standing, but if the woman seems sincere, she'll hesitantly sit.
The Merlin takes a seat where he can see the entrance to the building. Zellara Esmeranda, have I heard that name before?
"The whole 'burning sky' thing, that was something else. Are you a magician, Zellara?" Headsman asks, intrigued. He flicks the Big Sky between his fingers absentmindedly.
That is a question that might well have an interesting answer, Machaera thinks, as everyone finds a seat. Her mind returns to her quibble to the Black Merlin, as she double-checks her headcount. Seven for a secret never to be told. Sending the laughter was one thing – and if Headsman means what I think he means, I suppose we all got some sort of personal message – but finding us all in the first place, to say nothing of using the Harrow to do it, suggests – hmm, a diviner, seeing how the other side lives? Certainly, if she could accomplish such a feat and had any interest in more aggressive forms of magic, I’d warrant she could wipe the floor with Lamm on her own.
"Good evening Zellara... This is an interesting collection that you've invited. Are we lead to believe that this is the result of some Varisian tasseography or divination? Or is this the latest scheme concocted by the Sczarni?" the Albatross asks of the host, focused on the raison d'être of the meeting. "Do you have more tangible evidence to offer on Lamm's location?"
Zellara turns and presents herself to you: "Good evening to you all. I do indeed have tangible evidence to offer on Gaedren Lamm, navigator of the urban sea. I sense all of you have been wronged by this foul man, as well as myself, and I offer vengeance and a means to also find justice. I am no magician, Headsman, but the power of the Harrow allows one to reach beyond the mundane and see what could be, and what has been. A year ago, Lamm's pickpokets stole my harrow deck from me. It is a treasured heirloom, handed down through a dozen generations to the women of my clan and family. It was also my sole means of support. The deck I now use carries nothing of the history or contact with my ancestors that the older deck did. My son Eran attempted to track down Lamm, but Gaedren had him followed, and his thugs murdered him.
"I sought help from the Korvosan Guard, but they turned me away. Through the use of bribes and this humble harrow I possess, I was able to eke out his location. He is at an old fishery north of here, at Westpier 17, where he trains abducted children to be pickpockets and keeps his stolen treasures. However, I need your help. Gaedren is far too powerful of a wolf for me to face alone, and the Guard would be unable to arrest him even with my testimony. He has evaded the law for decades. Will you make him pay and recover my deck for me? I can perform a seeing of the future and the rewards of the past to aid in you in your plight."
Turning to the Merlin, Corvus asks quietly, "What do you think? Does she seem trustworthy?".
"Lamm is living on borrowed time, and his foul deeds hang around his neck and pull him to the abyss. If we find your heirloom, we will return it. But Lamm will meet his end, I promise you this. He will no longer corrupt the young and the innocent."
The Black Merlin takes a moment to study the Harrower.
'I second that. You give us his location, we'll put him out of Korvosa's misery and bring him your deck.'
"I trust her. Not sure why, but in any case, this is the best chance that any of us have to take that black-hearted dog down, so we may as well go together." Io turns back to Zellara, "That was quite the show you put on earlier. If you're no magician, how did you pull of personalized illusions?"
A gift of the gods, channelled through the bonds of a family over generations. And possibly amplified by a very particular Harrow deck. A slight furrow creases Machaera’s brow as she considers Zellara’s words, and she hopes the fortune-teller’s ears are not so keen as to hear the other guests’ conspiratorial whispers.
Trying to soothe the somewhat suspicious sting of Io’s question, Machaera jumps in, “Perhaps no academically-trained mage, rather. Maybe think about it in terms of the will of the Harrow – she wanted to find a certain sort of person, and the cards provided. I doubt they revealed quite everything about us yet, though, especially if it wasn’t her family’s deck. Seers have always come to their art in many ways, perhaps even more so in the past hundred years.”
Realizing she’s channelling a bit too much of her own parents and teachers, Machaera changes the subject modestly and gets to the point, “Mind you, I can’t have been twenty at the time, and I certainly won’t pretend to be an expert. We would be most grateful for a reading before we begin, but of course, we’ll do our best to recover your deck, and exact due vengeance.”
Machaera hardly has to think it over. She doesn't even need the touch of her pendant, its fine chain around her neck, to feel a sudden weight of memory. But she's lost so much more. Not just her cards, but her son...