"Here." Headsman says curtly, shoving the papers at the Marshal.
'Glad to be of service' Spelbar flashes a smile of blackened teeth to the marshal before collecting their payment.
Cressida takes the papers, thanks you for your service, and heads back into the citadel with her guards. The party opens the box, and finds a significant amount of gold inside
"Well maybe we retire for the night and see what else we can get up to, I feel like we have many things to discuss." Yanis will had back to Zellara's home so they can discuss things
"Sounds good to me, doc." Headsman says, suppressing a yawn. "Hopefully tomorrow'll be peaceful for a change."
Having kept her own counsel even as the group delivered the letters, as she catches herself increasingly entertaining the Black Merlin’s qualms about dealing with the King of Spiders, Machaera deals with another infectious creature and stifles her own yawn on the heels of Headsman’s.
The negotiations have proved more involved than she expected, and she realizes that she’ll have long since missed her friend Prasitis. Ah, well. She’ll make it up to her some other time. For now, there’s midnight oil to burn while poring over her newly acquired spells, and then, Machaera hopes, she’ll have a better idea of the possibilities going forward with both Barvasi and Vancaskerkin’s mischief.
“Shall we make it nearer to mid-day?" she suggests, wearily. “Give us all some more time to see to various odds and ends before we reconvene?”
With that, she takes her leave, unless something occurs to someone else that requires her attention.
Returning to her rooms, Machaera finds, as she expected, her new book and a note from Prasitis, as well as a careful bundle close (but not too close) to the hearth to nest the egg that she’s trying to hatch with Quartermaster’s help. The boy’s clearly got a good sense for these things, she decides, as he was able to draw the same conclusion that he could safely leave for the night. He’ll have earned his gold and his reference, if the young mage can provide the latter.
Despite the late hour, she finds herself reluctant to retire immediately. Then again, as much as the slender volume left by her friend beckons to her, Machaera knows that there are more practical things to do. Thinking about magical intoxicants, for one, to keep up her charade for the King of Spiders, if necessary, and the handful of new spells to come to grips with, and preparing for tomorrow. Lighting a few extra candles, she carefully lays out her scrolls, pens and inks on the table, opens her grimoire to a blank page, and curls her body into a chair even as she starts to wrap her mind around unfamiliar transmutations…
Praising his good work, and thanking him for his punctuality, Machaera disappears into the inner room to finish her witchy preparations. As far as her budding beast-master can tell, that seems to involve long murmuring in Elven and then a longer silence, but late in the morning Machaera emerges her usual self, having snatched several more hours of sleep and tidied herself up.
“Only a couple of days more at most, I should think,” she says, nodding as Quartermaster settles in with his charge. “I’m off to the New Court, if that looks like it’s about to hatch, but I’ve got other things brewing this morning. Thanks for your help.”
Spelbar takes his leave, hobbling into the darkened city. A safe distance away, the old man turns into an alleyway. He stops behind a stack of crates to catch his breath and he begins rummaging in his pack.
A few moments later, a more dashing figure clambers up the stack of crates and begins leaping across the rooftops, moonlight glinting off the firearms on his hips.
He quickly makes his way to Midland and a familiar street. Behind a battered shop advertising firearms the Black Merlin swings down to a narrow window ledge and slips inside.
A tired looking young man is seen a short while later checking the front door of the shop for any orders that he may have missed. He returns to the workroom in the back of Raidnack's Rifles and sets up his meager bedroll on the floor, slipping quickly into sleep.
Yanis will go back to his own office before heading to the new court, collecting some items to help with what he promised to do and a few fresh note books to take down the formulae and calculations that he will need.
Later on he will lead his trusty donkey to the new court.
"You guards are looking more Guardish by the day, I would almost think the City had posted their own here to defend this mansion." Yanis jokes with the children before offering them candy and heading inside with his bundle. Finding a free table is difficult but Yanis finds a small spot and sets out his items.
"Antidote for Shiver, or to make it less of a hangover." Yanis thinks as he writes.
Headsman tags along with Yanis to Zellara's, nodding to the lookouts as he arrives.
"Good going, you two."
He turns to Messenger, an older girl mentoring the younger boy with her. "Anything big happen? We were supposed to get word from Town Crier from the Shingles on how things are going over there. Did he come by?"
Messenger replies "The only thing we've heard is that the queen's grunts still have the city on lockdown. Scuttlebutt is that she's going to build some gallows to start punishing rioters soon as examples. Long drop with a short rope. Should be something to see."
Headsman gives an irritated grunt. "Figures. Treating us like cattle wasn't enough. Now she's slaughtering us like cows too."
"I'll come by the old hideout tomorrow. Tell the others to stay safe. Avoid the guard unless there's a bigger threat."
Headsman hands Messenger a pouch of coins for provisions for the old hideout and sees him off, before making his way inside.
"So, Doc. What do you make of all that?"
"Them Murdering the rioters? Seems like if you get rid those who are the loudest who don't like you the less vocal ones will fall in line." Yanis lets his shoulder sag a bit. "Which side do we back though? We have been helping out the guard but I did promise the spider I would make him a cure for the Shiver."
"Why should we be picking a side? I want what's good for the downtrodden city folk, and the queen sure ain't it. I'm okay with getting leads from what's-her-face, but I'm not signing up with the guard, you can be sure of that."
He leaves his weapons by the door and slumps into Zellara's old couch, stretching some kinks out of his shoulders.
"I say we keep going like we've been going. There's no reason to pick a side."
"You're more than likely right, the queen seems like she is up to something and I am not sure what." Yanis sits down in one of the chairs in the parlor. "You are picking a side for the downtrodden though, it is the right side to pick, I am picking them as well."
Still later that morning, there’s a knock on the door before Machaera sweeps in, clearly enjoying the day so far. She’s in her shirt-sleeves, her coat of mail slung over one arm, and all things considered she does the young blade about town fairly well for a mage.
“Good morning!” she calls, slinging her armour into a free seat, where the chain pools in a hiss of clinking metal. Seeing that the whole group has not yet assembled, she makes herself comfortable and asks, “Any news? I’ve a bit, but I’ll admit it’s wizard work...”
As she speaks, she opens her spellbook on the table, and the source of her good humour, and the reason she’s not in her armour yet, become clear. She keeps talking as one hand digs further into her pack and the other runs a finger over a freshly-inked line of text, as if to reinforce a still unfamiliar bit of procedure. “Give me a moment, and we might be able to tell the others something about that secretive dagger we got from Vancaskerkin, when they arrive.”
Setting said weapon beside her grimoire, Machaera rehearses a snatch of incantation one last time under her breath before lifting her glance to Headsman and Yanis. The mage’s eyes flash with scarcely suppressed curiosity, as if to say, Well, here goes nothing!
"We have some but not much really either, we are deciding on what stance we are taking." Yanis replies. "Do we continue as is or do we change up? Right now we have nothing more to do but we could always see what help the guard needs again."
“That sounds about right,” Machaera agrees, with a sigh. Before she says anything more, she retrieves a small cup of wine from somewhere. “I’m not sure there’s much we can do other than try to tread lightly while the city calms down again.”
As she speaks, she keeps her eyes on the dagger, twirling it in one hand as the other traces weirdly around the blade: the effect is reminiscent of nothing so much as a gardener gently handling a young shoot. Then again, like wood, even metal has its grain…
Abruptly, she switches to a firm grip on the weapon, and splashes it with a drop or two of wine. Her voice scrapes through an invocation that is at least mainly Draconic, including the stern command, “Reveal your secrets!”
"True, just do what we would normally do and not try to upset the queen anymore than we have too?" Yanis says watching Machaera
Machaera glumly looks at her fresh notes again. ‘Titka-i-nak,’ long i, not so much of a diphthong, she chides herself, belatedly correcting her pronunciation, and throws the dagger down in disgust.
“Sorry about this,” she says, shaking her head as if to clear her vision of the shady haze of magic that still lingers from her failed charm. “Not my finest moment. And it will take a while before the aura settles down from its excitation to even hope for a better reading. Everything says it must be magical, but for the life of me the details escape me: if it’s just something to sharpen the edge, that should be trivial to spot, but it doesn’t even seem to be that. It makes no sense.”
“I’ll try again tomorrow, maybe even try using Zellara’s cards to … oh, I don’t know, ease into the tangled creepers of fortune that cling to this bloody knife. Maybe it would prefer a less direct approach. Failing that, we can throw it at the next villain that has a blade coming to them, see if that provokes it to a display of any powers,” she concludes exasperatedly.
Standing, Machaera throws her armour over her head. As she adjusts the fit, she actually answers Yanis’ question. “Indeed. Are we likely to upset Her Majesty any time soon, do you think? For all that I would hate to be asked directly as to my opinion of her leadership, she’s almost as young as any of us, and only been ruling for a few days… As much as I’d like to think that, in her position, I’d handle riots with better grace, I’m hardly a leader, let alone of a city like Korvosa. Also, what are we to do with our Spider? We seem to have offered him our keen pharm-alchemical expertise.”
"We have yes, we come up with something to lessen the blow of Shiver? Make it so that it isn't as addicting but that could be a problem for another day. I am glad it didn't come to blows with him, I don't want to make an enemy of someone as powerful as he." Yanis replies
"Ah, yes of course." Io remarks dryly, "The best way to cure someone of their addiction- get them addicted to something else. I see no flaws with this logic."
"I didn't mean to get them addicted to something else, I am a doctor of course and I don't want people addicted to things to start with. We just have to find a work around in the mean time." Yanis says
As the group meets back at Zellara's, a disturbance appears to happening outside. Random shouts about assassins and down with the queen seem to be a good part of the noise.
Yanis moves towards one of the windows to get a better vantage point.
"Seems that people are not happy and are taking things into their own hands." Yanis says
"Never a dull moment, is there?" Headsman groans, donning his armor and weapons.
"What do you say we go take a look?"
The Black Merlin found himself running late to the meeting due to losing track of time doing a thorough patrol of Midland. The patrol had not turned up much, shouting he'd raced to early on turned out to be a cart team in an argument following a broken axle. As the new disturbance begins to break out, The Black Merlin is approaching the edge of Zellara's roof. His head whips up to scan the street.
"I didn't mean to get them addicted to something else, I am a doctor of course and I don't want people addicted to things to start with. We just have to find a work around in the mean time." Yanis says
Machaera nods, “Reduce the harm done. Anyone desperate enough to try to solve their problems with shiver is running from something from which any number of poisons might seem to offer shelter. Kinder alchemy, or magic, certainly, can offer that without the risk of addiction. At least, beyond how a fragile spirit can seize on anything otherwise good in itself.”
"Never a dull moment, is there?" Headsman groans, donning his armor and weapons.
"What do you say we go take a look?"
Before she can find a scrap of paper to start jotting down a few first ideas, though, the street sounds outside crystallize into something decidedly more ominous.
“Oh, for Elysium’s sake,” the mage snaps testily, retrieving Vancaskerkin’s dagger and sliding it into the top of a slender boot on her way to the door, “Speaking of desperate, no wonder the city’s in such a state. If there’s going to be rioting, could there at least be a competent conspiracy to back it? Yes, yes, ‘Down with the queen!’ and all that, if you like, but who’s supposed to take her place?”
The mayfly decision-making processes of humans baffle her. Still, she knows she’s spoiled, so she tries to tone down her patrician self-assurance somewhat before opening the door.
Outside, it appears a group of Korvosans are having a lively discussion over post feudal succession with axes and words. The discussion seems to be an argument over the king being assassinated and the queen being responsible. Shouts of various slogans"Assassins in the court need to be purged! Up with democracy! Rise up workers against the corrupt nobility! Buy more tickets to the play the Queen is Just! Only five silver pieces! Shut up, Wesley!
Headsman looks to the party and the children around him. He looks, most of all, towards the figure of reason that is the Doc.
"A play?" Yanis asks
Once the shouting becomes comprehensible through the open door, Machaera smiles ruefully. That is more like it, at last. Her own leanings are a bit too magiocratic or, at best, if the barbarous coinage could be excused, merito-aristocratic (axiaristo- ?), but more popular involvement is a start, and allowing guilds to set up would be a great first step.
She turns to Yanis, “It does sound ghastly, doesn’t it? Some poor hack must have tortured their imagination for a plot with the desired implications. I’m almost tempted, just to see what they could come up with.”
Testing the psychic connection shared by the group, the Black Merlin reaches down with his mind. Should I fire a shot to try and scare them off or do we want to try to reason with them?
From a different vantage point maybe yes." Yanis replies, "It would be intresting to see yes but might get you arrested." Yanis says.
I'll re position. As Yanis speaks with the crowd, a dark figure darts across the rooftops, down the block, and scurries across the street. A few moments later, it reappears across the street, above the opposing entrance.
I'll keep an eye on the crowd, in case someone gets some crazy ideas.
Unless anyone stops him, Headsman brazenly marches into the mob, eyes and ears peeled for any sign of danger or alert. With his common clothing, he, for better or worse, looks like someone who might be part of the rabble, and his experience with the streets makes moving within the crowd easy. Where someone less experienced with crowds might be pushed and shoved about by the erratic movements of a mass of people, elbows and shoulders bounce off his steady stance and he, in turn, can shove his way past obstacles.
Yanis stays on the front Stoop where he can watch things unfold
As the crowd gathers, a small group of artists have created s stage in the middle of the street. Illusions of the king, being poisoned by s female figure pouring poison into his ear, dance with puppets of the noble families who laugh as the poisoned wine pours onto the poor in Korvosa. One of the poor, a bonny lass with cornflower blue eyes and golden locks, says "Oh my sweet Wesley! Slain before his time! We should storm the castle and put the Queen to the pay!"
Across from the crowd, a group of Guard have begun to form, being led by a woman wearing full plate, including a full helm, with a red cloak billowing out behind her. They don't seem to pleased by the protest, and are moving to disrupt it.
[i]"Now might be the best time to create a distraction Merlin, the guard are coming."[/b] Yanis moves off the balcony to the bottom step, "Now might be the time to take this play on the road."
On it, I'll be busy for a short while. Expect Spelbar. With that thought, The Black Merlin retreats from the edge of the roof and moves a few buildings down towards the approaching guard. As he moves, he withdraws a small burlap sack from his backpack. He takes a short run up to the edge of the roof overlooking the patrol and hurls the sack at the lead guard.
'Long live Korvosa!' And the Merlin begins running along the edge of the roofs leading away from the performance.
As the wrangling crowd eddies and parts around Headsman’s towering youth, Machaera follows up in the gaps that open up to quickly try to steer two people here, three there, away before the crowd reaches critical mass and tempers flare. She scatters her words lightly but earnestly –
To some amateur political theorists: “You’re right, gentlemen, unless guilds are free to associate, it will only be a question of whose hand is on the worker’s throat. But please … the neighbours’ baby was crying all night with the colic, only just got to sleep, could you keep your voices down a bit? Or Goodie Beth will make you glad there isn’t a Mothers’ Union!”
She whirls away to the scalper: “Five silver? The Kendall Amphitheatre is a lovely place… I’ll take one, but I’ll bet you’ll get more there when the first play of the day is done.”
Finally, she joins Yanis in front of the street stage. She smiles; despite her posh tastes, Machaera is also able to enjoy a good show wherever she sees it, and these folk have conjured their illusions well. I don’t know who the girl is supposed to be, though. One of the king’s … paramours?
Sounds a bit nicer than concubines, she thinks, not wishing to provoke a royalist by something as simple as word choice, if possible. And Wesley?
Keeping up with popular elven culture is difficult enough, but the pace of human is positively frenetic. Before her thoughts go any further, Yanis’ intervention calls her attention to the new arrivals, and Machaera quickly begins to clap loudly, further encouraging the players to end their show peacefully while they still can.
[i]"Now might be the best time to create a distraction Merlin, the guard are coming."[/b] Yanis moves off the balcony to the bottom step, "Now might be the time to take this play on the road."
“Good work! I’m sure the final product will be even more spectacular,” she says, tossing her head to indicate the advancing guards. Her voice drops to a conspiratorial volume as she joins Yanis at the edge of the stage, pretending to dicker to give them another chance to change the subject. “Of course, what would give you an even greater edge would be professional pyrotechnics. Cliffside Lane, South Shore. For all players’ performances.” She conjures a spark into her hand as part of her spiel.
Yanis watches the magic happen and hopes the crowd will dispurse.
"Do no get caught Merlin, we need you in the coming days I will assume." Yanis says
The crowd, alerted by the sparking tanglefoot bag teamwork, scatters, while the guard approaches carrying truncheons, nets, and some form of odd looking crossbows loaded with spheres. The players send the illusions forward and then jump to the Shingles, a pretty blond woman leading the pack. One guard shoots a sphere at some of the scrambling players, which bursts in a cloud of stinky gas. A couple of the players retch, and fall to the ground. They are set upon by the guards, who wrap them up in net and beat them unconscious. One guard announces "5000 gold pieces to anyone who brings in Trinia Sabor, wanted for assassination and treason against the Queen of Korvosa.