Still no one responds. Is anyone going to look through the second story windows?
Machaera eyes the door’s lock, trying to gauge how easy it would be to get at its workings. To Yanis’ question about subtler ways of dealing with the lock, she whispers back, regretfully, “I’m afraid the only things that spring to mind are messy, and possibly loud.”
I'll check out the upper windows Io thinks, Man, this is a weird sensation. You can only hear what I think at you, right?
As minutes trickle uncomfortably away, Machaera’s moue rapidly develops into a full, furrowed-brow frown. She takes a step back into the street to take another look at the building.
“There!” she says, noticing how small the upper level is, and estimating that they could all use the cover of the palisade to haul themselves up to the second floor, even those of the group who aren’t strong climbers. That’s if there isn’t a door to the killing-floor, after all. Surely all the butchers in Korvosa can’t do the dirty work out in the open, like that place with the fancy smoked bulette. Failing that, we might actually have to just break a window…
Aloud, she continues, a glimmer of grim humour creeping into her voice, “There are more windows towards the back. I doubt they just lob cattle over this wall, and it doesn’t look like anyone’s working the shop this evening, so let’s go find the gate. Maybe there is another way in, or, if not, once we get into the yard, we’ll at least be out of sight while we see if we can find a way to break in as unobtrusively as possible.”
With that, she starts to walk casually along the length of the stockade, just in case there’s anyone else out risking the consequences of breaking the curfew.
"I'll take a look inside the yard," Headsman calls out through the mental link. Barring any objections, he attempts to scale the fence.
The Black Merlin moves around the edge of the roof, keeping pace with his companions on the ground. I should be able to get a look from up here. he sends out telepathically.
The Black Merlin huddles back from the window. 8 people upstairs. I think they're playing Towers. Must be a pretty close game, turning down the opportunity to earn some coin.
Corvus will move to the back door and try the knocking and phrase again. If needed, he will resort to throwing a rock at the upper window as well.
Eight people, huh... We'd better be careful.
Headsman opts to jump the fence back and rejoin the group.
"Lets just open the doors down here and go up?" Yanis asks
"Sounds like a plan to me. I've got a vendetta here, but even after Lamm, I don't like our chances against eight people."
"Kick in the door Headsman, we don't have all night to wait." Yanis readies himself.
Headsman shrugs and tries opening the door the normal way. If that fails, he attempts to open it the barbarian way.
As the Albatross’ rock sails through the air and Headsman tries the door, Machaera does her best to school her expression to at least calm, if not demureness, on the off chance that the butcher shop’s inmates aren’t jumpy enough to respond violently to unexpected late-night callers. Still, she mentally prepares for the worst, anticipating that the night will likely get loud quite shortly.
The Albatross' rock flies into the window, but bounces of the thick glass and onto the first floor roof. No one comes to the window. Nor does anyone respond to Headsman breaking the door down.
A sign bearing the image of a fat, smiling cow hangs above the entrance to this shop. Inside, a long counter runs over half the room’s width, beyond which a door stands ajar. A low bench sits against the east wall, while to the north a marble-topped table displays cuts of meat before a wide, grimy window. A few flies circle in the air above the meat. No creatures are visible.
The Black Merlin watches the door below splinter and buckle and begins gettiing in position just above the window on the opposite side of the building from the card-playing men and draws his pepperbox. Let me know when you'v engaged. I'll hit them hard and fast.
When no one responds to either sign of the group’s presence, not even the forced entry, Machaera concludes that either the Cowhammer Boys are about as observant as she is, or they’re planning a double-bluff. She peers into the darkness inside the shop to see if she can glean any hints on how to proceed.
After a second, she whispers to the others, “Alright. If they’re not moving yet, I don’t think they will be. I don’t see any stairs here, and we can’t really pretend we accidentally made our way in any deeper. I suggest we send the quietest of us to find the stairs, possibly with a nice surprise in hand, with the rest of us a breath or two behind them, ready to rush in if they get spotted.”
“I think I’ve got a useful trick: it takes a few seconds to get going, but that will give the rest of us time to get in position. It will take a person’s edge off, but it will only really be dangerous for us if they have mage support.” With that, she indulges in just the slightest bow.
Apparently we should have drugged the mead.
Hearing that the ex-guards are as dedicated outside of the military as they were when active, Corvus pulls out a few thin tools and begins to work at the door after checking for any alarms or traps.
Headsman nods to Corvus as he moves into the room.
He draws his axe and stands ready, expecting a foe to burst in at any moment.
Ready.
Yanis moves in with the group, words of power on his lips ready to attack or defend as necessary.
"We just need to knock them out so that we can return them to the guard." Yanis reminds
"I've got a spell prepared that ought to help with that," Machaera nods, vaguely checking the pistol-dagger at her hip as she extracts her alchemical grenade from her other gear. Tactfully, she doesn't mention that that spell is likely to be delivered on the point of a blade.
Following the others' lead, Machaera spares the day-old meat a second glance on her way to taking a peek through the door behind the counter. Plausible deniability? she muses. They don't seem to be working tonight, but I hope whichever poor soul gets a day's leftovers gets a discount on the 'night's special cuts.' Pretty neat racket, with a code word that fits. This Vancaskerkin seems like he has half a brain about him.
Map Updated
The room beyond appears to be a hallway, with stairs that lead up to the west. A single door to the east smells of blood and meat, while the scent from the double doors to the south are even stronger. There still appears to be no response to your entry.
Machaera’s nose twitches at the scent as it gets stronger the further she goes into the building. She tries to calm her paranoia as the stillness of the place begins to get to her. Is it really going to be this easy? She silently jerks her head in the direction of the stairs, silently asking for confirmation that the others will follow if she tries to slink up to where the gang seems to be holed up.
"See, people." Headsman whispers. "This is the kind of guards your tax money pays for. Real useful, right?"
Headsman nods to Machaera and follows along (if she goes).
Machaera cautiously advances to the foot of the stairs, where she pauses briefly to listen for anything unusual above, or else the sound of shuffling feet, surly conversation among the men at their cards.
Bracing herself, she starts up the stairs, now moving as quietly as she can, trying to get just close enough that she can easily lob her grenade into the midst of the men while still afforded some cover by the stairwell. Unfortunately, her nerves take over as she gets closer to the line of the next floor, and her foot kicks audibly against the next step.
The Merlin tenses his legs, ready to push off, drop, and break through the window. With his free hand he readies his pepperbox.
Io also tenses outside, mentally preparing to take down everyone inside.
Here we go....