Garvid chuckles. "It's good to see you too, Field Marshal.", he replies. "Frankly, I'm as surprised as you are, boss.", he says in a nonchalant tone. He looks at Kroft, thinking of what he remembers of the Field Marshal. "I'll be honest with you, it's been dumb luck and sheer coincidence that got me here. We're here to help the city, by order than no one but Her Majesty herself." He glances over the room, before his mouth wordlessly spelling out, Hellguards?
"I'd be amenable to getting put in manacles, but I'm sure you need all the help from us Korvosans." he states, making sure to convey the message he's on the Guard's side. I'd rejoin in a moment, if she asked. Sadly, though, I think I can do more elsewhere.
Me too, Mouse replies simply, letting herself melt into the rare gesture of affection...for just a moment. After all, the guards still wait outside. Me too, punk. But think o' me readin' it to ya, an' it'll be like I'm right 'ere witcha, 'til I c'n come back t' visit, mmk? Now, be good, all o' ya. Mind Mr. Cal's friends, an' learn what y' can from 'em. I'll be back quick as I can, an' you'll be took care of good.
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Mouse would have called the Citadel the most intimidating she'd ever seen...if she hadn't been at Castle Korvosa ninety minutes prior. But next to the towering edifice and grandiose opulence of the castle, Citadel Volshyenek seemed...almost approachable, if it wasn't for the innate nervousness around the city guard that came from a lifetime of living on the law's edge. Field Marshal Kroft seemed almost friendly, despite being clearly and unsurprisingly run off her feet - certainly less standoffish than Sabina Merrin had been.
Marial, ma'am, she replies simply to the Field Marshal's inquiry, sitting in the offered seat with her face a nervously neutral mask. As she sits she folds her hands, but they soon begin wandering of their own accord, fidgeting with a couple of frayed places along her tunic's bottom hem.
Cal went to work immediately in getting his house ready after they returned. He was being conscripted, and he wasn't particularly happy about it. His business would suffer without him around, but he did have a few people in place just in case this was going to happen. He half expected it after he had his uncle executed for his crimes, but it didn't. Now his people had a few months experience more. Regardless, he was a bit nervous, as his historical possessions lay in the balance.
To be honest, there were many times when he wondered if being noble was a blessing or a curse. More often it had been a curse, but he'd never been without money or influence, so there was that to consider as well. One of the most eye opening things he'd ever done was invite the poor to come and live at his house. He'd done it for a fair amount of reasons, some of them he used to defend himself at fancy parties, but other more personal ones as well. He glanced up to the third floor bedroom that he hadn't entered in the past few months with a bit of regret and longing before finishing his business.
As he finished, he made sure the dresses and expensive things were back in their places and people were ready for work when he came across Mouse and the children. The gift was moving, but the problem came with the kids feeling abandoned. That, he might be able to do something about.
"Hey," he began, getting down on their level to look them in the eye. "Don't be selfish now. We have work to do, and we're going to beat up other bad guys like Lamm and make the city safe. If we weren't going to do it with the guard, we would have done it anyway. Now mind your teachers and learn everything you can. Just because you don't have this one," he patted Mouse on the head while he was talking, "doesn't mean you don't have full bellies and more safety and cleaner clothes and more chances than you've ever known."
He escorts Mouse to her feet as they prepare to leave. "We will be back in a while to check on you, and I expect you all to show me something you've learned that you didn't know before. If you impress me, I'll give you a present. Don't let us down now."
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As they came up to the Citadel, Cal sighed. He'd been round the place as a young boy, and even more recently when his uncle was incarcerated there for a time. It was an impressive feat of engineering, and the tunnels underneath had always been a draw for his boyhood adventurous spirit. Although he never set foot in them, he'd always wondered what was down there.
To the Field Marshal, Calcedon nodded his head in respect to her rank. He'd had relatives in the position, so it would be disrespectful to his own family not to acknowledge her position. "Calcedon Fordyce, at your service, and the service of Korvosa. I expect you have need of us?"
Li shakes her head slightly in disbelief as they are marched towards the Citadel. First Castle Korvosa and now Citadel Volshyenek...two places in Korvosa that Li has stayed clear of and now she's been to both in a very short period of time. Both places make the rogue feel out of place albeit for different reasons. The Castle obviously represented a level of wealth and power that Li found hard to fathom whereas the Citadel was the center of the Korvosan Guard. Since Li has made a point of avoiding the Guard her whole life, being inside their headquarters undoubtedly makes her nervous.
Li doesn't know what to make of Field Marshal Kroft as of yet but she knows enough to answer when their names are asked for. "They call me Li and I be told ta report ta ya, sir."
”I'll be honest with you, it's been dumb luck and sheer coincidence that got me here. We're here to help the city, by order than no one but Her Majesty herself.”
”Dumb or not, it definitely looks like you have luck on your side. In spades. But it’s good to see your face again--to know you’ve weathered the storm so far. And...Fordyce? The musician? I suppose the queen knows what she’s up to, because I haven’t a clue.” She leans casually but wearily on the front edge of her desk, hands resting on its surface as she faces you.
"At any rate, You are the ones sent by Queen Ileosa. Judging by what Her Majesty writes, you are citizens of high caliber, and that's exactly what Korvosa needs right now. You've been on the streets. You know better than me how bad things are out there. It's breaking my heart to see Korvosa tear herself apart like this. Every little bit of aid we can get from upstanding citizens like you helps."
She pauses, glancing down at the pile of papers on her desk, then to Garvid, then back to her desk. "The queen has assured me of your...willingness to lend your services as agents of the Guard. Of course, you will be compensated for your work."
She begins to pace in front of her desk, rehashing a line of thought that has obviously haunted her for some time now. "Korvosa's got enough troubles as it is without my own men losing their way and going rogue! As much as it pains me to admit, though, this has happened several times already. Many guards have deserted their posts, more concerned about friends and family than the city. I can understand this, yet not all of the deserters have family--some of them are simply using the riots as an excuse for personal gain. One such man is Verik Vancaskerkin. Worse than a lone deserter, he's convinced a small group of fellow guards that Queen Ileosa is going to ruin the city."
She waves her hand dismissively.
"Whether she does or doesn't isn't the point--right now, we've got a city-wide crisis on our hands, and I need all of my guards working with me to see us through. A deserter is worse than a lost resource--it’s an infection. I can’t afford to pull any of my other patrols off duty to deal with Vancaskerkin, and I’d rather not expose any of them to him anyway, since I neither want Vancaskerkin to infect more guards with his talk of secession, nor do I want some overly patriotic guard killing Vancaskerkin outright. I need impartial, skilled talent.” She smiles mischievously. ”Like you."
"Vancaskerkin and his men have holed up in an abandoned butcher’s shop up in North Point--the place was called All the World’s Meat. I need you to check it out. Try to avoid killing any of the deserters if you can, but if you must, they brought it upon themselves when they threw in their lot with Vancaskerkin. For him, I’d really prefer it if you could capture him alive and return him to me for interrogation, but if he makes that impossible, I’ll accept his body as well. Finally, see if you can find out why Verik deserted--if there’s more to it than simple personal politics, I need to know immediately. Bring me Verik alive, and there’s two thousand gold in it for you. Dead, he’s only worth half that."
”If you need a place to stay,” Cressida continues, ”I can offer you beds here in the barracks. I can also put in a good word for you with a local tavern owner with whom the Guard has established an arrangement for situations like these. Your beds and meals would be covered. Unless you’d prefer to maintain your own arrangements?”
It wasn't terribly surprising that he was only known as a musician. He was, after all, terribly good at the violin. He wasn't nearly as good at other things, but he had a few tricks up his sleeve. Hopefully they would be able to do the very thing they asked of them, but they did infiltrate Lamm's base and take him out, this could certainly be in their wheelhouse. "Field Marshall Cressida, we'd be happy to help. Dissent in the ranks is never good, and we shall do what we must to bring him in."
"As for your generous offer of housing, I graciously decline. I have enough beds for my companions as well, but I won't begrudge them if they don't wish to be woken up with music every day." He gave her an encouraging smile.
Li appreciates how Cressida handles herself while she explains the situation. It definitely helps the rogue feel somewhat better about doing the job asked of them - that and they were promised payment. Money always makes things appear better.
Li is surprised that they are given the option of staying elsewhere while working for the Guard. Maybe they aren't quite the prisoners that the queen had made her feel like they were. "I'll be part of yer skilled, impartial talent." Li looks at Calcedon as he continues to offer his home to the rest of them. Responding to Cressida, she says, "Thanks fer yer offer of a bed but as ya can hear, I be havin' a place already."
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As they approach the Citadel, Yaziyah becomes even more taciturn, her shoulders drawn in and her posture no longer stick-straight. The place held a lot of memories for her. After their attack on the City Hall, eighteen years ago, she and her fellow Spirit Wolves had been imprisoned here while waiting for their trial, and their subsequent punishment. She remembers the anger, the fear, the defiance. She remembers Tomoatooah, Watches the Sky, her lieutenant. How during the trial he claimed he was the mastermind, he had planned the attack, all the while looking her in the eyes. He had sacrificed his life so that she could live and keep fighting, further their cause. She had disappointed him. She had disappointed a great many people, back in those days. She briefly wonders how much of that young, fiery woman is still in her. The fire is still there. And the anger, although buried deep and somewhat tempered. The fear, too. Although these days she no longer fears for herself that much, but for the future. And the future doesn't look good just now, not good. She will need to do something about that.
"Yaziyah." She straightens up in front of the marshal, a trace of defiance still in her. Will the woman judge her for her past? Will they mistrust her for being Shoanti?
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"...he's convinced a small group of fellow guards that Queen Ileosa is going to ruin the city."
I won't argue with that assessment, not after I just witnessed at the palace. But she's right, that deserter will only make things worse. And who knows if "personal gain" is the only thing he's using the riots for. Many people who join armed forces do so to indulge their own violent tendencies and cravings for personal power. Sometimes the law keeps them in check, mostly. But when there is no law...
She nods to the marshal. "We'll bring him in." Addressing the others, she adds. "Let's try for "alive". My name is Speaks For The Dead. Not with."
The Field Marshal's candor surprised Mouse - and impressed her. The whole thing felt oddly familiar, like being sent on hits for Gaedren...but as a Lamb, Mouse was lucky to get a name and basic description of the people whose lives she'd be ruining. Being trusted with so much information about this Vancaskerkin, and with so much of Kroft's own mind on the situation, was a nice change, and being sent out in the name of keeping peace was a nice change from shaking down unsuspecting rich people or her fellow Lambs. 'F I had t' get assigned under someone...this Cressida lady ain't so bad. C'd get used t' her.
Yes'm, she replies simply when the Field Marshal finishes her speech. I'll help bring 'im in - 'live, like y' said. Fortunately, she'd been used by Gaedren as much for intimidation as for actual injury, so she was good at leaving victims hurt but able to tell the tale...when they finally woke up. Speakin' with that inn lady mightn't be so bad, 'n case we end up needin' t' stay over there late. But other 'n that I'll be stayin' at Mister Cal's, 'f 's all the same, ma'am. Got some friends o' mine stayin' there, too - they'll be pleased t' be seein' me.
Maybe I'll stop by a sweet shop somewhere for 'em on th' way back.
Cressida grins. "Good. Good! I was hoping you'd say that. You can sleep where you like--you aren't prisoners. In the event you need accomodations in Five Corners, I'll open a line of credit for you at Three Rings Tavern. Its purveyor is a woman named Theandra Darklight, and she'll know to expect you. Just give her my name."
Cressida crosses to her desk, picks up a quill and begins to scribble on a scrap of parchment. "All the World's Meat shouldn't be hard to find. 22 Stirge Street. From what I understand, the place has become quite popular with local citizens. Vancaskerkin and his men have taken to calling themselves the 'Cow Hammer Boys,' and they have some sort of program of free meat during the time of unrest. But I'm sure you'll find out more in your own investigation." She hands the scrap of paper to Garvid, shaking his hand in the process. "Good luck. Soldiers."
Cressida gestures to indicate the meeting is adjourned, sitting back at her desk and burying her face in her paperwork. But as the group begins to shuffle out the door, she speaks. "Yaziyah. Please stay behind for just a moment. I'm sure your companions won't mind waiting just one more minute."
Barely glancing at the scroll, Yaziyah looks Cressida Kroft in the eyes, her expression composed and her gaze level. "I will not lie to you, Marshal. I am still angry and bitter about how this city treats my people, about our heritage stolen from us. But Thousand Bones has taught me a lot since the doors of Longacre closed behind me." She picks up one of the traditional Shoanti ornaments hanging from her belt, looks at it thoughtfully and then lets it drop again. "Our traditions come from a way of life that is just not possible in the city. We either adapt, or we perish. I have chosen the first path. We, the Shoanti, have to learn to live together with the Korvosans, be a part of the city. And if my actions can prove to the Korvosans that we are not savages, that we have worth and value and something to offer, then..." She trails off, shaking her head with a small, self-mocking smile. "The short of it is: you can trust me to do whatever is needed to help this city. It is my home just as much as it is yours."
She remains standing in front of Cressida, a hint of expectancy in her posture.
"Vancaskerkin, huh. That the one that always complained about not getting a promotion?", turns Garvid to Kroft. "About the beds, I'll go with no. We got a place to stay already, and I'm afraid me staying here might stress the relationship with the nobles."
He takes a glance at the heraldry of the guard, one he sees every day fading from his halberd's blade. I can't be caught between two worlds. When I'm done, I might rejoin, but now we're just the queen's helpers. Even though we might be kicking in the guards' favour.
"We're not bringing him or anyone dead, if we can help it. We're not the f~*&ing Hellknights. And as queen's representatives, in the event we see any, we tell them to take a long jump off a short stool." He smiles. "Anyone heard of that butcher's shop? Not where I usually go, so it might help knowing what we could expect." He turns around sharing a glance with the Field Marshal. "I suppose we'll be ditching Her Majesty's shining helpers?", he asks, reminding of the forced entourage.
Ain't never heard o' no All The World's Meat - North Point weren't so much my spot, Mouse replies to Garvid's question. We c'd do some askin' 'round, though, see if anyone knows somethin' - but it's gotta be someone who looks th' part doin any askin'. Me mebbe, or Li, or Miss Yaziyah even. She gives a small, rueful smile. Jus'...mebbe not a retired guard or a nobleman. Ain't no sense restin' on our laurels - might as well start askin' round now, after takin' a long way 'round t' hide that we come from th' Citadel. 'F we can't find out anythin' bout a way t' get in from that, we c'd try scopin' out th' place, see if sneakin' in'll do any good.
If we're lookin' t' take pris'ners, we'll want ways t' hold 'em - ropes, mebbe some good manacles f'r Vancaskerkin if 'e's the biggest concern. An' everyone'll wanna find a way t' hit withou' hurtin' too bad - fists, saps, anythin' that don't cut too deep nor break too much inside a person. Miss Yaziyah? she adds, looking to the Shoanti woman as she emerges from the Field Marshal's office. You put Lamm's gator t' sleep 'afore, right? C'n y' do that again, maybe t' a bunch o' folks at once?
Li nods, "I be up fer scoutin' tha place. I doubt they be seein' me if I don't want ta be seen. Kinda in tha same boat in that I'm not familiar with tha butcher shop so we'll need ta find out some stuff before we go in."
When Marial mentions ropes and manacles, Li asks, "Wouldn't tha Citadel be able ta provide us with that? If we be workin' fer them then they can be providin' us with what we need. I can run back and ask the Field Marshal who we need ta be talkin' ta ta get supplies."
"I suppose we'll be ditching Her Majesty's shining helpers?"
"Correct," says Kressida. "Their orders are to return to the castle. A job of this nature demands a level of subtlety, and I don't think an entourage of Guard in full uniform will help you in that regard."
______
[b]"Now," she says, re-rolling the scroll and picking up her parchment, "I have to figure out how to deal with this Vault situation. The damned priests won't even let my soldiers into the bank. You'd best be off. I look forward to your report."
[/b]
"Cow Hammer Boys? I wonder where they got the cows." Actually, he didn't really want to wonder. The bard blanched a little as he thought of the ugly possibilities. He tried to change the subject.
"I don't really have a clue where Stirge Street is, but I can find it pretty quick I bet. I'm fairly well known in the North District. There's a lot of old families that have heard of mine around there, and I've done a fair amount of parlor parties when I was younger. If we can find anyone actually out and about, we might be able to get it done before suppertime." The idea of meat again crossed his mind, and he decided to move on again.
"We didn't really need the entourage in the first place. We would have come here anyway if we knew you needed any help. Of course, the queen doesn't trust us now, I'm not sure she trusts many people in this time." Or, has a vested interest in seeing us fail. There's always that option too. He didn't say that aloud though, perhaps in a more private place he would have. As little as he knew the people in his own entourage, he did trust them fairly well already.
"Miss Yaziyah?" she adds, looking to the Shoanti woman as she emerges from the Field Marshal's office. "You put Lamm's gator t' sleep 'afore, right? C'n y' do that again, maybe t' a bunch o' folks at once?"
"Hmm?" Yaziyah replies distractedly. "All at once... no. But I can try it again." She remains silent as the others discuss their target, a faraway look in her eyes.
"Then we should be on our way." The bard bows courteously to their host and begins a graceful exit. "It seems we all have much to do."
Once outside, he does attempt to consolidate plans. "We'll be able to cover more ground if we split up, but it would be best if we don't travel alone. This town is still rather dangerous. Since we're all going to the North Shore, let's stick together. Then we can do some shopping for supplies, if we can find them and meet back at the estate for a decent meal before acting on our new knowledge." Though he seems authoritative in his words, his tone is more questioning as he goes through. It's not as if they have a leader or anything, it's more of a consensus type structure. Hopefully it was a reasonable enough suggestion.
North Point, at the northwestern tip of mainland Korvosa, was the first section of the mainland settled by the descendants of the city’s Chelish founders. The district houses many of the city’s oldest non-noble families. North Point covers the entire northern end of the city and includes the wards Five Corners, Mainshore, Northgate, and Ridgefield. Korvosa’s seat of municipal power stands in North Point, as does the city’s courthouse and the Bank of Abadar. Northgate itself is often the first area that visitors see, as it is to this ward that the Longriver Bridge connects. Many of the city's non-noble elites and old-money families live here, though such moneyed folk slowly relocate to Citadel Hill. As a result, the property values of the area are in a slow but steady decline.
It is among these old but characteristic and nostalgic streets that you find yourselves now wandering. A large open square looms ahead, nearly unrecognizable now without its faded rainbow of tents and temporary shacks constituting the body of the well-known market: The Dock Trade. Normally, this market (of questionable legality) offers wares of goods appearing freshly delivered, although most have some minor damage to them. The Hellknights have for years attempted to link the wares sold here with cargo reported missing from ship manifests. Their constant vigil has stifled the Dock Trade's growth, and it remains the smallest of Korvosa's open markets.
Today, though, the market is all but deserted. The Hellknights have more pressing concerns, and only a handful of vagabonds and ragamuffins sort through the wreckage. It's difficult to say exactly what sort of rioting occured in the market, but the end result is clear enough. The few warehouse buildings adopted into the Dock Trade family now stand empty, the large halls deserted. The nearest warehouse building's large barn-style doors stand wide open, as litter and refuse scuttle in and out due to the wind.
While a series of low wooden tables once formed several rows along which sellers would display their wares, much of the furnity has been destroyed or stolen. Jagged pieces of furniture litter the space along with other trash. From the rafters above, a cacophany of chirping emanates as a flock of psueodragons in a variety of metallic colors emerges. Each is about a foot long. They spin and whirl in the air, flying at great speed directly toward you!
"Heh.", Garvid says with a grin as he sees a pseudodragon. "Like those little buggers. Come here.", he says to one with a smile more geniune than anyone's ever seen on his face. "I watch those on shifts, from time to time. Beats looking at the grimy buildings.", he sighs, looking at the deserted marketplace. He closes his eyes, picturing the bustling market a mere week ago. "Must have been a nice place. Probably even nicer without the devilf%#~ers...", he mutters, "What happened here, pal?", he asks the pseudodragon, patting his pockets down for food. "The nice lady over there probably has something, even if I can't find it.", he grins, nodding at Yazi.
He puts his arms on his chest. "Guess we can ask the flying bastards about what happened here.", he says with a grin. "Just make sure they don't bite your fingers off."
Li mirrors Garvid's grin at the flock of pseudodragons as they buzz the group. She knows that many store owners and citizens thought of them as pests but she always appreciated their ability to keep vermin levels under control. She often wondered if they'd make a good pet but had never gotten this close before. Digging into her belt pouch for a piece of dried meat, she offers it to the silver one that flew surprisingly close. She also holds out her other armored arm to see if it would land. "They usually be much shier than this. I wonder what riled 'em up?"
Mouse had seen the pseudodragons before; who in Korvosa hadn't? But she'd always given them a wide berth, and they'd always seemed more than happy to do the same, so all her watching had been from afar. As the flock flies up, Mouse goes stock still for a moment, watching as a gold one brushes past her; following Li's lead, she withdraws a small hunk of hard cheese from her bag, picking a small spot of mold off its side. She'd gotten it for dinner the afternoon an age ago when she'd found Zellara's card; who knew this is where it would end up? Li? Y'...y' sure they ain't gon' bite?
Yaziyah always has food in her pockets, of course. As her hand reaches for the familiar treats repository, the weasel emerges from the folds of her cloak, spiraling up her arm and perching on her shoulder. The woman holds up a couple of dried meats scraps in her fingers, high enough that one of the pseudodragons can reach it if it hovers in front of her - and high enough that the weasel can't reach it unless it climbs on her head. Which it does, of course it does, it wants the treats. So does the pseudodragon, and there is a tense moment when weasel and pseudodragon look at each other. The weasel sniffs once, then tentatively reaches for one of the meat scraps, its eyes trained on the hovering creature. Both of them snatch a treat, then the weasel scampers away under the cloak again while the pseudodragon flaps back with a chirp.
"There we go, there we go. You can be friends. Stop sulking, now, there's more where that came from."
Li? Y'...y' sure they ain't gon' bite?
Li shook her head slightly back and forth. "I ain't sure but figur'd it be worth tha risk."
The flock envelopes you in a polychromatic whirlwind. There are at least a dozen of the pseudodragons in varying shades of gold, silver, and metallic hues of indigo, emerald, and crimson. The silvered one flits around Li's head, tentatively landing on her shoulder before plucking the treat from her hand, then scurrying down her arm as it gobbles up the meat.
Without waiting for Mouse to finish her question, a dark chrome specimen flutters by, snatching the cheese from her hand. Its crimson cousin tries to snatch the cheese from its claws, and the two engage in a brief aerial battle. They seem to entwine each other before the chrome pseudodragon breaks away, cheese still in tow.
The silver dragon on Li's arm turns to look directly into her eyes. Words begin to form in her mind, clumsily recalled and strung together, as though reading a difficult word for the first time.
The big ones come back. Soft skin. Good food is from friends of us. So quiet now. Much anger before, loud screams. Blood on the ground. Friends fight friends. So much blood. Horrors. Then quiet. Only us. No more big ones. Except you. And that one.
The silver dragon flits away to a pile of garbage about 15 yards away. It alights on top of the mound, turning back to look at Li. Not dead. But quiet. Cries. No food for us.
You notice that the it isn't a pile of garbage at all, but some sort of tent or hut constructed from broken furniture and torn fabric, and an adult human figure lies still within it.
Li had heard that these creatures can speak directly into your mind but she is still surprised when it happens. Her eyes widen as her brain tries to process the pseudodragon's words. It must be thinkin' about tha rioting. Following the creature's flight with her eyes, it is then she realizes there is someone lying over on the ground. "Over here!" she yells as she quickly moves towards the body. "Yaziyah, ya be good with healin' an' such. It said they were not dead but quiet. Can ya look?"
tag Yaziyah
It is then that it registers that Li has been referring to the pseudodragon as 'it'. Looking at her new friend she asks, "Do ya have a name?"
tag silver pseudodragon
Cal watched as the flock of Pseudodragons came in to view. Such sights always reminded him of music, and he longed to pull out his violin and play for them. He used to run around on his roof playing for the pseudodragons, but found the practice to be a bit more nerve racking as an adult with less flexibility and more sense.
He pulled out a sweet biscuit for the flying, shimmering creatures and listened as they seemed to be talking to Li. Perhaps it was because of her own shy nature, or that this one preferred talking to girls that it chose her, but he always did find them to be helpful. A Korvosa without Pseudodragons would hardly seem like home to him.
When they pointed out the man in the garbage, Cal went over to check on him immediately. "Hullo there. Is there anything wrong?" He readied the healing tune in his mind, prepared to use it if he saw any fresh blood.
Li looks up at Cal as he's the first to come over to look at the unmoving human. Her cheeks color somewhat with embarrassment when she remembers that Cal had also helped to heal wounds during their encounter with Lamm. She hoped he didn't take offense at her oversight. He'd been so kind to the lot of them and the last thing she wanted to do was inadvertently insult him. "Can ya tell what's wrong with 'em, Cal?"
Mouse watched from behind as the others approached the still - sleeping? - sick? - dying? - person inside. It wasn't that she didn't care about the mystery person's fate...she simply knew that there were many others much more suited to the task than she. I'd only be in th' way when it comes t' patchin' folk up. Her eyes dart back and forth between the motionless figure, the mouths of the surrounding streets, and the flock of pseudodragons still wheeling in the air around them, one still carrying her former dinner. Up close, the miniature dragons are even more entrancing than they had been at a distance; see now why there's so many stories 'bout 'em.
Here, let me see, let me see." Yaziyah makes her way to the figure's side, checking them for signs of life as well as obvious wounds or sickness. She is careful not to touch them with her naked skin, as you could never know if a person was carrying a disease. Seeing people slumped on the street, from injuries, intoxication or illness was quite common for her, so she is well-practised at this. First, to establish what is wrong with the person. Then, to figure out what can be done for them, if anything.
Garvid grunts. "I'd be interested to know why the man stayed. If he was the little pests' pal, they'd say, and it's not like he's living the good life in here.", he points out as Yazi reaches over to heal his wounds. "Not saying don't see what's wrong with the bastard, though..." He takes a pondering look at Li. "Hah. Never asked one of those for a name. Funnily enough, didn't think they'd have one in the same way as us.", he chuckles.
He takes a long look at Mouse. "You know, it's the Dock Market. If we look around, there's bound to be a secret place or two the rioters missed. Maybe we'll find another trinket of the queen's, rightfully acquired as the previous one? I'm thinking we might got enough time. And it's not all junk and stolen stuff in here. We could learn something we didn't know."
Might not've had nowhere else t' go... Mouse answers Garvid's question softly. They got somethin' 'ere, leastways, an' 'f they was roughin' it 'afore, I'd bet they ain't even that much worse off than they was...or mebbe they just ain't got the sense t' git out... For a moment she watches Yazi, Cal, and Li tend to the mysterious figure, before she turns back to Garvid. Y're right - might be there's somethin' 'round worth the lookin'. An' somethin' says t' me ain't nobody comin' back for any of it, not for a good long while 't least. No sense in lettin' somethin' useful rust out or rot. Li? she calls softly to get the girl's attention. Me 'n Garvid is gonna 'ave a look 'round, see 'f we c'n figure out anythin' - y' wanna join us?
Li quickly stands at Marial's invite. "Sure, I just be in tha way over here." She joins the pair and takes a look around. "There be a lot of ground ta cover so shall we split up?"
The mass of old blankets and fabrics shifts suddenly as Calcedon kneels and touches it, causing the hovel to teeter precariously, though it remains standing.
"Hmm? Wha? Get yer hands off'me!" Slurred speech lilts through the air. The figure recoils, blanks thrown back, as a short sword swiftly appears from beneath the cloth, leveled at your chest. The man quickly pulls a cloak back from his head, revealing a filthy man, unshaven and gristled. He reeks of sweat and worse, though he wears a crumpled uniform of the Korvosan Guard.
"Now jus' back off, now! You don't know who yer messin' wif!" His bleary red eyes dart from one face to another, until he lands on Li.
"Nef...Neffi? Neffi!" He asks, seemingly confused.
Li recognizes the man but senses that he's disoriented and doesn't want to jar him too much at first. Knowing he's confused her with someone else, Li says as kindly as she can, "I'm sorry but I ain't Neffi. Was she here with ya?" Then the rogue said words that she never thought she'd say in conversation. "Tha pseudodragon said...that ya be needin' some help. That true?"
tag Grau
Ah, master Grau. They definitely could use his help in the guard, but from the smell of him, perhaps not today. Now now, Mr Grau. This is no time to be drinking. The city needs guardsmen more than ever, and I wouldn't dream of testing that sword arm of yours no matter what state you're in. Now come along, let's get you sobered up. There's a lot of work to do."
"That's right, that's right, come along now, we'll get you cleaned up and you can have some nice hot soup with bits of marrow to strengthen you, there's a good man. I know you were just trying to forget about the horrible things, but it doesn't work like that. Best you come with us and help fix the terrible things, hmm?" Yaziyah assists Calcedon in chivvying the dishevelled guard into a less aggressive stance.
Garvid turns around to start skulking around, when something clicks in his head. Is that... He quickly doubles back and crouches on the ground in front of the man, grunting when he answers to Li. "Right now it looks like we're messing with the biggest mess you've ever been in, sarge.", he says. "Grau, g@$$@@nit, I'm not one to lecture, but you smell like a brewery and look like the back end of one.", he chuckles. "Today's the right day to quit drinking, if you don't mind me saying that. We might need your mug hand to pick up a sword, as those two said, because the city's in deep s*~#, there's a deserter starting a mutiny and someone burned down my favourite inn." He stands up, giving the man his hand to stand up. A devilish smile appears on his face. "And if you don't sober up, we'll tell Merrin about your state of affairs."
As Grau takes his hand, he gives him a pat on the back, wiping his hand on his trousers when he isn't looking. "Now, let's start from the start. Two real simple questions. Who's Neffi and why the hell are you hitting the pavement so hard?"
Grau is clumsy with his short sword, and Garvid easily knocks it aside as he reaches for the man's hand. Grau stares dumbly at Garvid, his eyes distant and hazy.
"We'veh met? What'sh your name?" He hiccups as Garvid pulls him to his feet. "You look jush like Ne-Neffi!" He proclaims to everyone and no one in particular. "I 'aven't seen 'er fer ages, and I promised her I'd buy'r a...a, uh, drink! We grew up in Shandpint...er, point!" He chuckles. "Shpeaking of pintsh, letsh have a round to catsch up, hmmm" He leans heavily on Garvid.
Calcedon gets under Grau's other arm. Garvid is taking the brunt of the man's weight, it's possible that he didn't leave the area because his legs couldn't support his weight anymore. "We don't know a Neffi, is that a nickname?"
With the drunken man's arm over his shoulders, he looks over to Li and tries to get her attention.
The shadow of disappointment glides over Grau's face, though he seems to be having trouble tracking his thoughts, and quickly speaks up again.
"There's got t'be an inn'r'tavern'r'sumpfin'. Let's drink't our troubles, forget our sorrows!" he sings, "'Til tomorrow's, when tomorrow's be yesterdaysh 'gain!"
Calcedon gets under Grau's other arm. Garvid is taking the brunt of the man's weight, it's possible that he didn't leave the area because his legs couldn't support his weight anymore. "We don't know a Neffi, is that a nickname?"
With the drunken man's arm over his shoulders, he looks over to Li and tries to get her attention.
[dice=Bluff, Convey Secret message]1d20+19
[dice=Knowledge Local, Neffi rings a bell?]1d20+5
** spoiler omitted **
Li looks over at Cal and he seems to be trying to hint something to her but Grau's slurrings distract the rogue. She furrows her brow in confusion and shrugs her shoulders.
Thinking that they'd never get any useful information out of Grau if he stayed in his current condition she says, "He be needin' somethin' ta sober him up, not more drink."
Garvid and Cal supporting an inebriated guard between them seemed comical to Li. It was then that she realized Grau's uniform would probably fit one of the men supporting him. That may be an option for disguising someone to get them into the butcher's shop later. She would have to remember to mention it when the time was more appropriate.
EDIT:
Li looks over at Cal and he seems to be asking her about whether Grau may be familiar with a relative of hers. Not knowing why Cal wants his question secret nor how to answer him without speaking, Li shakes her head.
Mouse had watched as Garvid and Calcedon interviewed the very inebriated Grau; she hadn't known him, but the depth of his current hardship was clear to see. Where's 'e been gettin' th' liquor t' keep 'im that drunk, 'f 'e's been sleepin' 'ere? With Garvid and Cal so burdened and the market still an unknown factor, getting somewhere inside was in order, and sooner rather than later...
Taking a defensive stance and scanning around, Mouse's eyes fell on the sign peeking around the corner of the next block, a carved relief of a woman in a ballgown holding several mugs of ale. What 'bout there? she mutters to Li and Cal, staying ready to help support the drunk man if one of his supporters faltered. I know he ain't needin' no ale, but might be they'd 'ave a good bowl o' brown t' get into 'im, help 'im t' git back to 'is senses some.
Grau squints his eyes at Li as he struggles to comprehend a conversation that is beyond his current faculties. "I coulda swore...y'look jush like'er...*hic*..."
He continues to lean heavily on the two strapping men as Mouse leads the way, about 80 paces east, down a street now barricaded with rubble and debris. The Wandering Duchess Saloon is a two-story timber and brick affair with a red tile roof. The shingle sign contains a carved relief of a woman in a nice dress holding several mugs of ale. The saloon style doors are not barred and as you step close it is clear that there are patrons within. Inside, a spacious common area contains a series of dwarf-wrought iron tables of chairs, while a collection of tankards from many locations sits upon a shelf.
The whispered conversations of about a dozen citizens cease as you enter. The bloodshot eyes of the patrons shoot nervous glances toward Grau's uniform. No one offers you a seat, but you find your own way. As it becomes apparent that you are here to mind no one's business but your own, the mill of conversation reluctantly resumes, though the contents of discussion have suddenly changed to disbelief at the state of the weather, and speculation as to the cost of tomatoes and onions in the aftermath of the riots.
Grau seems to have lost some of his energy, and simply lays his head on the table, muttering. "Korvosha...Jewel of Varishia..."
A tall female elf dressed in a dirty apron approaches your table. "Millet bread, roasted potatoes, or veg stew. I'm sure you know there's a shortage on meat, even with All The World's Meat's generosity. What'll it be?" She can't help but notice Grau. "Looks like yer friend's already filled his sails, it does."
Garvid quietly escorts Grau, mumbling to himself quietly. As they sit in the quieted tavern, he nods at the elven waiter. "He'll just get a wa..." Dirty as all hell, probably. "A tea or something. Or watered down wine, if you don't have it. And give him the fattest thing you got for eating, and one more for me."
He passes a coin to the waiter. "So who's those all the World's Meat? Would be interesting to see someone generous in those times.", he grins. And a bad idea to talk about it in here, with a drunken guard captain in tow.
Tapping on the table, he looks around. "So, I suggest we give the captain a place to stay and sober up, while we go on with our business. We'll check on him tomorrow or later today, but right now, he needs a tub of lard and a bath, and not necessarily in this order. Li, whenabouts are you going? I could probably give you a hand with the skulking, but I'm about five sizes too big to be more than average at it."
Grau's continued fixation on Li as Neffi makes the rogue uncomfortable. She's used to going unnoticed and so the added attention is something she doesn't quite know how to deal with. She had initially recognized him because he had been one of the guards who had almost arrested her once when she had been under Lamm's thumb. Maybe he recognized her from that and got his wires crossed being drunk. Hopefully it would work itself out when he sobered up.
Li looks over at their server and adds, "Roasted potatoes an' ale fer me." As was her habit in taverns, Li looks over the other patrons and sizes them up for who would be an easy mark. Sadly, it was Grau who she probably would have targeted if she had actually been there to 'work'.
It is Garvid's voice that brings Li back to the present conversation. "What?" When Garvid repeats his question, she answers, "It be better when there be shadows to move between so I don't plan ta go right away." Even though she is used to doing things on her own, she figures she shouldn't turn down his offer since they were now all working together. "Havin' another pair o' eyes be helpful. Ya can also provide a distraction if things go sideways." She pauses as she thinks of something else. "I did want ta pick up something that could come in handy later. I think Marial wanted ta look fer something too and had offered to come along. That still true?"
tag Marial and Garvid