"Wait..., we want to help you."
Pietro's voice faded as he looked at Li, "She's like your twin sister!"
___________
Trinia hops over various piles of bricks, crumbling chimney chutes, and pipes as she races across the roof. As she teeters across the far edge, the bricks beneath her feet begin to give way, but she balances herself with her arms and bounces with surprising agility across the narrow gap between buildings. She lands smoothly on the other side, sending a shower of brick tumbling down the side of the building, before ducking into a nearby gap in the wall.
Garvid grunts, slamming the door with his armoured hand. A stack of chairs fall down, knocking aside a painting and the paint, a colourful pattern forming on the floor. "I picked the wrong damn day to wear the damn teapot...", he grunts heavily, leaping through the window.
The exhilaration of the chase awakes in Garvid, as he grins, slamming straight through a pile of bricks, sending a clutter of falling ceramic shards down the alleyway. "We're here to talk to you, damnit!", he shouts loudly, a grin appearing on his face. He quickly notices a crack in the adjacent wall, a place where he might be able to squeeze in. He continues stampeding, as suddenly the roof gives way to the armoured boots. "Shiiit!", he shouts, plummeting down.
He lands in a room, narrowly missing a black housecat on his landing, which hisses and runs. Standing up, he grabs his halberd, running straight through the flimsy door. "Sorry!", he says on the way out, ducking through a narrow hallway, as he spots a familiar blonde head on the upper floor. "Huh.", he mutters, sprinting towards a nearby staircase, and narrowly managing to thrust his halberd, hilt first, right into Trinia's legs.
As the girl tumbles down, Garvid sprints next to her, grabbing her with a soft, but firm grip, then bends in half, panting. "Abadar...damnit...woman...", he barely manages to say in between deep breaths. "Why...the Hells... did you run...", he continues, waiting for the others to catch up. He manages to stand up, carefully setting the girl up straight as well. "Wooah..." He grunts once more. "Name's Garvid. I'm with some people who want to help the city. All we're here for is some answers, alright?" G+!+$&n Shingles...
He reaffirms his grip. "Now, don't start scrambling. I already ruined someone's house today, and if we fall through the cracks again, you're risking to have an old bastard in full plate landing on top of you. Not pleasant." He takes another deep breath, wiping his forehead.
After wondering whether they'd found Li's long lost twin, Pietro scrambled after her.
He slipped through the window and scampered onto the rooftop. The height was a little overwhelming so the doctor yelled after the girl, "Wait. We're here to help. The entire area is surrounded with hellknights. Please come back."
Noting that this had little effect, the alchemist quickly imbibed what appeared to be a small potion. Soon, his coordination improved and his already athletic body buzzed with energy. Even if he didn't regularly practice jumping, the doctor would give chase.
_______________
EDIT: I had posted in the wrong thread. :(
Trinia's is caught on Garvid's halberd and she goes tumbling down the hall. She might have jumped back to her feet, but Garvid's strong hand clamps down on her ankle. Trinia immediately goes limp, but breaks into sobs. Garvid calls out to Pietro, picking up the crying girl as he does. It isn't until Garvid carries her downstairs and back into her own tenement, up the stairs and back into the apartment where the others wait, then she regains her senses. The young girl's a mess, clearly terrified and unsure what to do or say.
"I din' kill tha King! I'm bein' set up, honest! Pl...please, I dun' want t'die" They'll lynch me if they find me, sure as the sun'll rise!"
Everyone was telling Li that she looked a lot like Trinia so she figured that maybe a familiar face would help calm her down. Personally she didn't see it because she thought that Trinia was much prettier. "It be ok. I know that some of us may be lookin' kind o' scary but no one wants ya ta be dyin'. That's why we be here. Ta make sure ya be safe. We'll disguise ya and keep ya safe so tha mob ain't be gettin' their hands on ya."
Pietro breathed deeply to calm himself down but it was hard; the mutagen coursed through his body.
With great effort, he used his caring doctor voice, "Listen, we're on your side and we want you to get a fair trial out of this."
When she startled, he added, "Which you will not get if you ran away from us. So... let me change the color of your hair and even darken your skin tone. Just the face and hands. And only temporary."
He added, "We'll then take you right past the hellknights, OK?"
Words, words, words. "You're all blabbing at the poor girl and she's scared out of her wits." Yaziyah strides past Garvid to kneel next to Trinia and wrap the sobbing girl into a motherly hug, rocking her gently back and forth and whispering soothing nonsense into her hair. The poor thing was clearly terrified and overwhelmed by what was going on; the first thing to do was to calm her enough so she could understand what was happening and hopefully tell them what had happened. Yaziyah had very little doubt that the girl was telling the truth. She thinks back on the rumours concerning Ileosa; it would be just like her to do the dirty deed and arrange for some poor soul to take the fall for it. That's what the rich and powerful always did. Well, almost all of them. Cal was likely an exception.
At long last, Cal stepped into the room. While everyone else rushed ahead, his last harrowing experience with roofs leaped into his mind with more dexterity than their quarry. After several minutes of white-knuckled, sweaty, breathless internal and external turmoil, Cal casually entered the window of the room as if nothing at all was wrong even though he himself was fairly certain of his demise not moments earlier.
Forcibly controlling his panicked breath to slow as a practiced thespian could do, he came over to the prone women "Death by lynching doesn't suit anyone, much less an artist such as yourself. There are forces which are interested in your side of the story." He extended his hand out to the frightened girl. "My name is Calcedon, of house Fordyce. Me and my friends are here to find the truth. If what you say is true, then you have nothing to fear from us. We will help you find proof of your innocence. Will you help us find the truth?" He smiled a particularly dazzling smile.
Mouse had let Garvid take the lead on the chase - after all, Mouse was far more familiar with being the one chased, rather than the one doing the chasing. And her faith had been well founded, it seemed...he'd managed to get hold of Trinia faster than she'd ever thought possible, despite her remarkable agility. With Trinia found, Mouse elects to help the others through the crumbling walkways of the Shingles, pointing out weaker spots and demonstrating the steps to take to avoid a fall.
As everyone gathers around the frightened girl, Mouse lets the more persuasive talkers lead the conversation; instead, she steps back, keeping an eye on all the approaches to their impromptu meeting spot. If Trinia was going to try and make another run for it, Mouse was ready...and if anyone else was going to try and make the girl's life difficult, well, she was ready for that too. A king-killer, she was claimed to be...but the sobbing, terrified girl on the sidewalk didn't look like much of a regicide. Still, that was the job of the courts to decide. If she was innocent, Korvosa's justice would pronounce her so.
But...is there such thing 's Korvosa's justice righ' now, with everything's happened?
Trinia shies away as Yaziyah pulls her into a hug, but then melts into the Shoanti's arms like a lost puppy. After a few more sobs she runs her arm over her runny nose and wipes her eyes, looking embarrassed, especially when Calcedon speaks.
"The truth!" she sputters, "The truth is I hadn't a thing t'do with tha King's death! I was hired to paint 'is portrait, I was, and I did. And that's all! Sure he flirted with me a bit, but I only smiled and tried to be polite, and that was that."
The sounds of the mob slowly but steadily grow louder. "A fair trial? You mean to turn me over t' tha Guard? They'll throw me in a cell, torture me no doubt! Couldn't you just let me go? Or hide me from the guards?"
"We not be handin' ya over ta tha guards. We never be plannin' ta hand ya over ta them. There be one person who we be trustin' who be askin' ta talk ta ya. That's who we be plannin' ta take ya ta."
With the sounds of the mob getting closer the rogue feels the urgency to leave. "We need ta be leavin' now or we be goin' ta have ta fight our way out. Pietro, can ya be changin' her looks quickly so she won't be recognized?"
Tag Pietro
Turning to Trinia she says, "Don't be worryin'. It don't be hurtin' at all. He be doin' it ta me with me hair. It only be temporary. Although he did say that he could be makin' it permanent."
Tag Trinia?
With the sounds of the mob getting closer the rogue feels the urgency to leave. "We need ta be leavin' now or we be goin' ta have ta fight our way out. Pietro, can ya be changin' her looks quickly so she won't be recognized?"
The doctor had already taken out a couple of vials and was mixing them together. he added some of his arcane energy to the mix and saw it turn a mahogany brown.
"Yes, I am ready. I have enough to turn your hair brown and darken your skin as well. I promise it will wash off."
He looked behind him, "C'mon, we don't have a lot of time"
Calcedon looked a bit crestfallen at Trinia's outburst. No wonder the queen didn't mind her taking the blame. If the king flirted with her, there's no way she'd stick out her neck to protect her. Well, they'd just have to do it on her behalf, whether she liked it or not. The truth would be best for all to know.
The bard reassured her as the doctor colored her hair. "We won't let you be tortured, a simple magical assessment will tell us you're being truthful and then we can move to learning more about your story to find proof. If you are innocent and we can't find proof, we will hide you until we can. Now, our offer is rather good considering your alternatives. Will you come with us and live?"
"We not be handin' ya over ta tha guards. We never be plannin' ta hand ya over ta them."
At that, Yaziyah raises an eyebrow, but makes no further comment. She doesn't want to discuss this topic in front of their quarry, but she feels that this is a talk that their group should have, sooner rather than later. The way things are shaping, they will soon be up against the queen herself, and while Yaziyah would gladly topple the woman from her throne, she is all too aware of the risk to such a course - the risk to herself is a small thing, but the threat of extinction levelled at her people is another thing entirely. Thousand Bones' cautionary words still ring in her ears, and the fear they bring is a dull throbbing in her heart almost every day since she last encountered the old shaman.
She keeps such thoughts to herself for now as she helps Trinia to her feet, wrapping the artist in Yaziyah's crimson cloak, as much for warmth and shelter as to help with her disguise.
Garvid clears his throat. "As much as I'd like to drag a few of the hot-headed mobbers for public unrest, I'm not looking forward to fighting the whole angry mob." None of them have pissed me off enough, for now..., he thinks to himself, grunting quietly.
"As for the Guard, as much as I'm partial to them, right now we're not sure where their loyalties lie. I know where Kressida's loyalties lie, though, and she's stick her neck out to an executioner's axe to get some innocent sob away from the Queen's b!+#@ fits.", he grins at Trinia. "And sorry about the trip, kid. Hadn't chased someone as fast as you in almost three years."
He taps his sole with the halberd's hilt. "So, Calcedon, sorry for inviting ourselves to your place, but I say we talk this over something warm and something possibly cold, on the rocks." He turns to Trinia again. "And no funny business on the way, alright?", he smiles. "Alright, people, move out!", he says loudly, opening a door.
S&$!, I'm not even sure it's a good idea to call Kressida right now. If I'm right, and I'm pretty f$!%ing sure I'm right, there's bound to be some arse in the Guard spying for the Queen. And that might f!~% us up in the long run.
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Garvid accidentally takes a glance at Yazi and smiles, before suddenly stopping, turning forward and slamming his forehead with his hand, resulting in a loud 'clang'. "I'm an absolutely peerless idiot.", he mutters just loud enough for the others to hear. "Yazi, you can speak with the dead, too, right? Not only to them?", he asks in a careful tone. "I think it might be worth it to try and get access to that guy's body. The one who got suicided off the tower."
The sounds of breaking glass carry from a nearby building. Everyone's eyes dart to the still-open window, then back to Trinia. She gives a curt nod to indicate her agreement.
Not a moment later, Pietro is applying his alchemical dye to Trinia's hair and skin. It's not his best work, to be sure, but to be applied so hastily the girl almost looks natural with her darker features.
Then you're all bounding out the door, down the steps, and into the street. It's blessedly vacant of the mob, but from the sounds they're making they're only a block or two to the west. You re-trace your route. Trinia, now disguised, draws little attention, and you make it safely back to High Bridge before you decide it's safe enough to slow down and catch your breath.
When they're no longer hurrying through the streets, Li thinks it's finally safe to talk. "I be thinkin' that we be takin' Trinia back ta Cal's and then send for Cressida. It be better if'n it just be her comin' ta see Trinia."
Tag everyone
When they're no longer hurrying through the streets, Li thinks it's finally safe to talk. "I be thinkin' that we be takin' Trinia back ta Cal's and then send for Cressida. It be better if'n it just be her comin' ta see Trinia."
Happy with his handiwork, the alchemist nodded, "Yes, that would be the most prudent course of action. I concur."
He turned to his new color-dye experiment, "Are you still Ok Miss? You don't feel any itching on your scalp, do you? Any unusual reaction on your skin?"
Cal scratched his chin as he thought it over. "Yes, back to the manor would be best. It's easy enough for me to bring strangers in without undue attention. I'm often bringing in artists, although I usually bring in more auditory artists more than visual. Since you're known as a painter, it might be best if we passed you off as a burgeoning talent in another medium. Tell me you have a decent singing voice or can play an instrument and we'll work with that. Also, from this point on, we'll call her Fran. We can't be calling you by your proper name, that would just not work so well."
Upon arriving back at the house, Calcedon whipped out his violin after being let in the door by Garel. Playing a bit of a fanfare, the kids and a few grown ups left behind to keep an eye on them emerged from the buildings. "With the arrival of Li back to the house, we'll do the play tonight. We will aim for dusk for the play to start. Pobie!" He pointed at the youth tossing him a gold coin. "Invite the Field Marshall to the play, I think she'll enjoy it. Tell her she can bring a date."
As the young man rushed to the gate, the master of the house turned to the rest of the occupants, clapping a hand on Trinia's shoulder. "This here's Fran. Give her a proper welcome if you get the chance. Make necessary arrangements in the ballroom for the play tonight, with a high profile guest, I don't want to chance the weather. That's it." Most of the denizens of House Fordyce scurried off to get things prepared as Cal led the group of his friends and their quarry to the first floor sitting room.
"Yazi, you can speak with the dead, too, right? Not only to them?", he asks in a careful tone. "I think it might be worth it to try and get access to that guy's body. The one who got suicided off the tower."
The Shoanti woman shakes her head regretfully. "I am sorry, but no. Speaking with the spirits of the departed is something that some of our most powerful shamans do sometimes, but not I."
"Are you still Ok Miss? You don't feel any itching on your scalp, do you? Any unusual reaction on your skin?"
"I...I think I'm alright, yea," Trinia replies as she runs her hands through her hair for the hundredth time, glancing at her reflection in Garvid's armor. "I didn't know hair paint like this existed..."
"Since you're known as a painter, it might be best if we passed you off as a burgeoning talent in another medium. Tell me you have a decent singing voice or can play an instrument and we'll work with that."
Trinia blushes a bit. "I do, m'lord. No theatrical experience t'speak of, but I've dipped m'toes in those waters in the parks, puttin' on stories for the crowds. I, I think I'd do a good job! ...Just don't make me sing..."
Pobie reappears a while later, informing all that the Field Marshall had responded with a "Oh, for heavens' sake! A play? Did they--?", then seemed to catch on, and with a heavy sigh agreed, but stated she'd arrive early to speak with you.
The invitation sent, the party now prepares for the evening's dramatic offering...
A play? Wha's 'e after, puttin' on a play wit' all... Then suddenly, as Cal sends Pobie with the Field Marshal's invitation, the pieces fall into place in Mouse's mind. A way t' get 'er 'ere wi'out sayin' we got Trinia...so we don't draw no 'tention from no mobs...right clever. But just to be sure, she gives Cal's sleeve a gentle tug once the hustle and bustle is in earnest. I'm glad t' 'elp w' th' liftin' an' carryin'...but I ain't gon' need t' be in no play, right? Her copper skin gains a few new shades of ruddy highlights at the thought.
----------
After a few hours of helping to set up the ballroom, Mouse retires to her bedroom. Kneeling on the floor, she pulls out her old, ratty backpack from beneath her bed, leaning backward against what seems a surprising weight. Opening the drawstring mouth, she stares once again at what her work's earned her... The pile of gold, studded here and there with a small gem, is a lifetime's pay for most of Korvosa, and more than she believed she'd ever see, especially at once. And there'd been even more pay promised for Trinia's safe return, which was to be completed within hours. But it ain't doin' no one a lick o' good under 'ere, me least o' all...
She'd heard stories, of course, of magic swords that shone from within and cloaks that could hide a person in plain sight. And she'd heard shopkeepers claim to keep marvelous trinkets of strange power on their shelves, silver statues that could come to life or rings that would feed a person forever. But how much of that was true, and how much was just stories? Could these wonders really exist? And if so...how hard were they to get? Cal'll know, or Garvid mebbe...
Ushering the rest back in the gate, Garvid tosses one last look at the street behind them. Nobody appeared to be present, or at least outwardly interested in the affairs of the rag-tag group. Closing the gate behind him, he frowns. "I think we might start thinking about securing this place sooner, rather than later.", he notions to the sad state of the walls.
Once inside, he takes the several minutes required to remove his armour. Damn thing is still too shiny. And I'll pay for running in it in the morning., he thinks, stretching his back as he places it on the armour stand.a Though, I took her down good. Never saw what hit her., he smiles, noticing his belly reduced in size somewhat after the whole unpleasantness in the city'd started.
Dressed back in his normal clothes, he enters the ballroom. "Right. Cal, I need a list of everyone allowed to be here. It also might pay for someone to be standing guard outside until Cressida arrives. Fran, I'd advise you not to leave the house in any circumstance.", he explains in a no-nonsense tone, gesturing outside the window. "There's at least two vantage points an experienced archer might exploit, and speaking of which, you might want to avoid windows too." He continues. "I might have a chain shirt I can lend you that might fit under your armour, if we can tighten it up a bit."
He stops, taking a moment to notice the glances tossed at him. "What? It's better to be prepared and not need it, than the other way around.", he says, raising his hands.
I ain't left this in 'ere...I put it 'way, like Miss Yazi said... But the cold gleam of the metal is...strange. Attractive, somehow. Mebbe Miss Yazi put in in 'ere - looked it over more, decided 'twas all righ' after all an' she was jus' spooked f'r no reason. Yazi's face, lined with worry as she had gazed at the serpentine blade, flashes through Mouse's mind...but so do Yazi's words (or at least the first of them). A magic dagger...that'd be a fine thing t' 'ave on 'and, f'r when hits 'n kicks jus' won' do th' trick.
Still, she knew Yazi wasn't the type to scare easily...and she wasn't the type to change her mind so suddenly, without a word...and if Yazi had changed her mind, why wouldn't she have given the dagger to Li?
Abruptly she stands, shifting the bag back under the bed with her foot as she slides the blade into the leg of her tall, rough-worn boot. Ain't gon' hurt nothin' t' 'ave some more protection, she says in a tiny voice, as if trying to convince someone of the truth of her words...but the only one in the room to hear is herself.
Mouse emerges from the stairway at the hall's end to hear Garvid's discussion of plans for Tri- no, Fran's protection. If y' can't git y'r chain shirt t' fit, Mister Garvid, I think I still got th' old leather I used t' wear - might fit a bit better, be easier t' hide. An' like y' said, 's a far sight better 'n nothin'. An' I c'n take a watch ou'side, if y' think it'll help - I don' think no one saw us bringin' 'er 'ere, but y' can't be too safe, like y' said.
Her voice carries an edge of unease, almost completely hidden by her eager offers of help...but not quite.
Armor for Fran...
Trinia grins slyly, lifting the edge of her shirt to reveal a gleaming chain shirt made of mithral. "I think I got that part sorted. I didn't give away all the money I made paint'n the king! I got these, too!" she says proudly, flashing a fine, masterwork dagger and a matching set of copper bracelets and necklace.
Pietro was excited about his new found skill, coloring people.
He immediately offered his services to any of the actors that would be on stage later that night.
He then asked, "What sort of play are we watching? Anything I would know?"
Li thought that she had missed the play when she had gone to Sandpoint. She is secretly pleased that it hadn't happened yet. She has never seen a play before and had been looking forward to it. The fact that it provided the perfect ruse for Cressida to come and talk with Fran worked out even better.
When Fran remarks on her hair, Li pipes up. Pointing to her hair she says, "He be doin' tha same fer me. I us'd ta be blonde like ya but it wasn't safe on tha streets with all tha mobs, as ya be knowin'.
When Garvid starts plans for fortifying the manor, Li tries to be helpful. "I c'n look around an' see if'n I c'n be seein' any easy ways in. I be pretty good at findin' ways inta a place."
Cal gripped his chin in thought in considering his new recruit, settling the point of it in the crook of his hand. "No music? Actually, no this is better. The play serves three purposes now. I'll have you play a bit part, run you through the lines myself. Being drawn into this will actually reduce your visibility, as I bring people in from time to time for such things.
"But before we get there, I want the whole story, beginning to end of your dealings with the crown. No detail is insignificant, as we can check out various possibilities for proof." Also, the longer we wait, the more people who may die who might be able to testify to the truth. But that should be better left unsaid.
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The bard patted a large hand on Mouse's unexpectedly sturdy shoulder. She's been carved into smooth stone by the flow of the streets. As much as she acted unsure of herself in the social scene, she certainly was handy to have around.
"No, no. Remember I set this up a few weeks back before Li left? A sudden thought hit him and he clapped his hands together. "Oh, you might have been with the kids. There's a play that is very important to me, and I wish for you to see it. We've done the play about three times in the last year, so we know it fairly well. Although we don't have the cast or talent to do it the greatest justice, Shelyn will be pleased with the heart that goes into it." There was much more to say, but he couldn't quite bring himself to say it. The play would explain. He hoped they would understand.
"In any case, I'm sure someone will put you to work if you ask for it. And you don't need to wear anything special. Though it's a play, and a reasonably good opportunity to wear nice things, we may have a late night in store. Best be prepared. Let me know if you need anything though. I know this part so well, I can play it in my sleep, although I try not to. It tends to frighten the children." One would expect a bit more of a sincere laugh from the bard as he finishes his monologue, as if he had made a joke. But the laugh was more a hollow laugh of a joke told too soon after a tragedy.
But he was quickly interrupted from his reverie when Garvid began making his sensible demands. Ah yes, of course Garvid. Although I've a few strong arms in my home, I've none of military caliber. Please, make all preparations necessary. The list is simple, it's merely us, the Field Marshall, and whomever she brings with her. We usually do plays just for us, about once a month. We're fairly overdue actually, the neighbors are even used to it. Sometimes we're attended by a few Pseudodragons as well, but it depends. They're somewhat capricious you know."
Among the flurry of preparations, Yaziyah retires to the room she shares with Li and Mouse to change into something a bit more appropriate for enjoying the theater. Of course, what she considers suitable attire for partaking of displays of public entertainment is a tad different than what the Korvosan aristocracy would wear to such an event. Her long, loose robe is made of supple hides dyed black, with patterns evocative of bones and tombstones stitched in threads of white. Her own face is painted black and white in a skull pattern, her hair slicked back and braided into a complicate weave that hangs down her back almost to her knees. Long strings of bone beads dangle from her ears and loop around her throat in such a multitude that they almost form a breastplate. The shaman calmly weaves through the bustle around her and settles down on a sofa with a cup of tea, waiting for the show to begin.
Trinia laughs musically at Li's description of her hair. "I'm tryin' t'picture ya blonde. I think I can see it. I could draw a portrait of ya, but it would be somethin' of a self-portrait, hmm?" Trinia considers a moment, then removes one of her copper bracelets and offers it to Li. "Here, take this. 'Tis a gift. We really can be sisters, now. Now, don't go and sell it. It's a treasure, ya know, and more valuable than anything you could get for't."
"I want the whole story, beginning to end of your dealings with the crown. No detail is insignificant, as we can check out various possibilities for proof."
Trinia sits down with Calcedon, a teapot between them, and gently bites her knuckles as she strains to recall the important bits. "Well, let's see. I'd been sellin' my paintin's weekly, in the art shows up on Academic Avenue. Lots of well-to-do types, and they seem to like my work. I reckoned that's how the castle got wind of me--some noble bloke showin' off my trees and flowers to his cousin's cousin or what have ya. I was approached by some guards at the market, said I was bein' officially summoned by the king's chamberlain! Well, scared white as an albino rat I was, but what when the Guard comes a'callin', can't really say no, can ya?"
"Now this was still a couple of weeks before tha king's death, what when all them riots started, so thing's wasn't quite as crazy as they been o'late. I was taken right to the chamberlain's quarters. He told me the king had been ill, and that having his picture made might cheer 'im up! And I was t'be paid a grand sum o' money, more than I could spend in a week if I tried! Well, who could say no? I met with the king in his personal chambers, at first with guards, but eventually just the two of us. He was ill like the chamberlain had said, with clergy of all sorts in an' out on the daily, and none seemed to know what was wrong with him. But he still liked to laugh, and I'd tell him jokes as I painted, and we'd make up stories about the mice in the walls and give 'em names. He was quite a charmin' man. I can almost understand how he come to be known as such a womanizer, despite his age."
"But that was it, really, and that's all I know. As I said, he'd flirt a bit, but his mind and heart wasn't in it, and I'd just steer the talk back t'tha mice. Wouldn't want the queen to think I'd be interested in the king! I may be young, but I'm not a fool..."
Their conversation continues, including an overview of Trinia's role in the play and recitation of her lines. She's quite a talented performer, and grasps each refrain with a singular gusto.
As the afternoon stretches into evening, preparations for the performance are finalized. Yet before things are complete, Cressida Kroft arrives on the estate. Her arrival is announced by Garel, who states that she has taken it on herself to tour the garden.
Secretly pleased at his fortune, Cal had wished he'd given her a better part. She might have been able to play the heroine herself, but that kind of spot had to be earned. "Do you remember which guard came for you? I know it's been a while, but it might be important." He nodded as she continued her story. "You never met the king in his prime. He was full of life when I played for him, but I understand the part about not saying no to royalty. Doesn't go well. That's funny that you made up a game like you did. Mice in the walls are fairly common in castles. Do you remember any of their names?
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Seeing Pietro's addition to their normal costuming on a break from tutoring Trinia, he patted the good doctor on the back. "I'm going to have to write down some of the things you're doing. We could definitely make more money in a theater that uses such techniques than we could from opening a shop to the public. Trust me on that."
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The head of House Fordyce came up to the Field Marshall after hearing she'd come. Wearing a ridiculously garish celestial costume, he bowed in a measure of respect to her station. "Good evening, Lady Kroft. If you are unimpressed with the garden, you should check out our greenhouse, it's far more grand. Now that all my guests have arrived, I'd be glad to show you to the sitting room where we can discuss all the trivialities you like." Extending his arm, he smiled and gestured toward the house. "Have I ever told you some stories about my forebears that were also your predecessors? There's a bit of interesting history, no doubt. Always intrigue and subturfuge. I was raised on the stories, they might even be true."
Garvid nods at Li and Mouse. "Great. I'll check the surroundings and where someone might sneak through the walls and doors. Li can take care of the basements and lower floors."
He nods at Mouse's idea of the armour, then breathes a sigh of relief as he sees the mithral one. "Sure pays to be a painter. Guess I picked the wrong career.", he smirks at Fran. He nods at Mouse, leaning in closer and saying with a concerned whisper. "You alright, kid? You look on edge. Is it Fran?"
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As Yazi makes her way down the stairs, Garvid's mouth opens. He clears his throat, before muttering out. "You look, uh, different." He pauses, realising the words leaving his mouth. "In a good way, I mean. I think I've the north walls to check, I think.", he says, leaving the room in a rush. Dumbass.
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Garvid nods as the message arrives, dusting himself off and leaving the house. He greets the Field Marshal with an informal salute, then joins Calcedon's side. "Evening, boss.", he says with a grin. "Never took you for the gardening type." He takes a look at a colourful arrangement of flowers, then shrugs. Plants are plants.
Walking in the garden, he begins reporting. "We went to the address, and there was a mob already. We went in, found her room and knocked. This old bastard here caught her, in full plate no less.", he grins. "Though, truth be told, I don't think she's the killer by any means. Rings like someone hanging her out to dry, and I think it was planned for before the king's, hm, natural passing. Think she's the scapegoat, from what we gathered." He finishes the report, then looks at Kressida. "So, what's the situation? Haven't had much time outside the house in the last couple of weeks."
"You alright, kid? You look on edge. Is it Fran?"
'S...yeah, 's... But agreeing with Garvid seems to take more effort than Mouse is able to muster; with a nervous glance, she glances up the stairs. Yazi had looked rather involved in her preparations...but you could never be sure. Lissen...did Miss Yazi ever tell y' anythin' more 'bout that dagger what we found at th' meat shop, th' one 'e said that Arkona lady give 'im? Y' know, snaky-lookin', wi' them red eyes? It's jus'...I mean, I know Miss Yazi said it give her th' creeps, but 'twas in my bag when I open it earlier. So...she mus' of changed 'er min' about it, righ'? Decided it was ok, put it there when I wasn' nearby?
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Mouse had reported straight to the garden when Cressida had arrived. Cal was a friend and benefactor, and she looked forward to whatever it was he and his players had planned - but the Field Marshal was in charge, of the Citadel and of Mouse's employment for the time. She was hardly someone to be dismissed. On arriving in the garden, she had taken up vigil next to a rosebush flanking the entryway, standing silent and still - she'd been part of the effort to find Trinia, certainly, but she didn't want to have to be the one to make the report. She'd learned a lot in the last few weeks, but a way with words was a thing she still sorely lacked.
As Cal paraded into the garden, Mouse fell in step behind him and Field Marshal Kroft. The young fighter had gone through Cal's supply of spare clothing and chosen another change of outfit, this one a knee-length embroidered silk tunic, heavy cream-colored hose, and long laced boots. The dress she'd worn to the Court had been beautiful, and it'd made her feel like a noble lady herself...but full skirts and tight laces weren't for her, she'd discovered. Too much to get in the way of any kicks and hits that might need to happen (and with a fugitive in the house, it was a distinct possibility). These migh' be clothes s'posed t' be f'r men, but they're sure a lot more comfor'ble t' wear, an' still nice 'n all.
Garvid's frank assessment of the search for Trinia brings Mouse back to the heady-scented evening garden; nervously, she chimes in. She was scairt, Ma'am - scairt like I ain't thought no killer c'd be. 'Specially not someone what's s'posed t' have 'ad th' nerve t' poison a King...
Trinia laughs musically at Li's description of her hair. "I'm tryin' t'picture ya blonde. I think I can see it. I could draw a portrait of ya, but it would be somethin' of a self-portrait, hmm?" Trinia considers a moment, then removes one of her copper bracelets and offers it to Li. "Here, take this. 'Tis a gift. We really can be sisters, now. Now, don't go and sell it. It's a treasure, ya know, and more valuable than anything you could get for't."
Li hadn't owned any jewelry before. She had had to give everything to Lamm when she was younger. Now that she was older, she had just been trying to make enough to live on. "It's sure pretty. Are ya sure?". When Trinia nods, Li takes it almost reverently. "I won't be sellin' it, I be swearin' ta that. I don't be havin' a sister so it'll be nice ta think of ya as such."
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Li searches for potential spots that someone could use to gain entry to the manor from the basement and lower floors. There were a few places where they needed to reinforce from the inside. There were also a few doors that could be easily picked if one was so inclined. She would ask Garvid and Cal if they wanted her to rig something as a surprise should someone try to gain entry who wasn't welcome.
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When Cressida arrived, the rogue takes her place with the group in the garden and waits as Garvid debriefs the Field Marshal. Li looks around at the others and realizes that she was one of the few who hadn't changed for the play. Hopefully no one would think less of her for staying prepared in her armor.
Seeing Pietro's addition to their normal costuming on a break from tutoring Trinia, he patted the good doctor on the back. "I'm going to have to write down some of the things you're doing. We could definitely make more money in a theater that uses such techniques than we could from opening a shop to the public. Trust me on that."
Pietro was also pleased, "Yes and I'm pretty sure I could prepare high quality pigments to apply as well."
He thought for a moment and added, "My high class clientele would also be very interested in these items as well."
He trailed off thinking all the good he could do with this extra money but frowned, "However, I really don't want to have my reputation as a doctor be tarnished by selling superfluous items."
He turned to Cal, "Maybe this is the start of a profitable partnership. I can prepare the items and you can sell them. I think that may work. What do you think?"
"Do you remember which guard came for you? I know it's been a while, but it might be important."
"No sir, I don't," Trinia replies somewhat glumly. "I was so nervous I barely remembered my own name at the time. And now it's gone and changed again! As to the mice, well yes I do. We named them after colors, y'see. There was Vermillion and Viridian, Cerulean and Sapphire, oh and Merigold."
"This here's a tiger lily, but dun' you worry, miss, it ain't got no teef..."
You find Cressida in the garden, accompanied by Auntie, who is attempting to explain the intricacies of the resident flora to the Field Marshal. Cressida has not worn her armor (a good sign?), and for the first time you find her in civilian clothes, although her choice of outfit retains a military flair. She is dressed in relaxed fitting woolen pants that are tucked into sturdy, low-heeled walking boots, themselves wrapped in brown leathern spats secured by a series of buckles running up her shins. She wears a rich navy cotton shirt with lace up neck and slashed sleeves that reveal crimson inner sleeves. A short crimson cloak drapes her shoulders and falls to her waist. The outfit is decidedly masculine, although her waist is cinched with a thick leather belt that matches her boot spats. A pristine shortsword is sheathed and secured to the belt.
Cressida nods thoughtfully at Auntie's explanation. She smiles and bows at your approach. "Well, lovely to see your home, Master Fordyce. Thank you for the invitation. And thank you, Auntie, for the tour." Auntie smiles her crooked smile before taking the hint and running back into the house. Cressida nods toward the gate. "I have men stationed on the street outside. I thought it rude to bring them back into the house for a...play?" She hesitates just a moment before taking Calcedon's arm, glancing around before slipping into step beside him as you all walk toward the sitting room. She listens to the reports given, her brow furrowing at the description of the mobs.
"So, what's the situation? Haven't had much time outside the house in the last couple of weeks."
"Well," Cressida replies, "The Hellknights have apparently all but quieted this latest uprising. There were, unfortunately, around seven deaths, but I'm still waiting for reports on those incidents. Still, things might have been far worse. I suppose the knights are good for something, after all. However, as you know the girl was not found. This brings me to my next question..."
By now you have entered the sitting room, though Cressida declines to take a seat. "Ah! Miss Speaks for the Dead! You look very, ah, impressive this evening." She clears her throat. "Anyway, you know my orders. The girl is to be taken into our custody to be kept safe and questioned. We must be absolutely sure of her role in the king's death. So, where is she?"
By now you have entered the sitting room, though Cressida declines to take a seat. "Ah! Miss Speaks for the Dead! You look very, ah, impressive this evening." She clears her throat. "Anyway, you know my orders. The girl is to be taken into our custody to be kept safe and questioned. We must be absolutely sure of her role in the king's death. So, where is she?"
Still feeling a little like an outsider, Pietro spoke up when no one offered any answers, "We found her and she is safe."
He looked about, "We thought that we would question her ourselves and investigate her claim of innocence..."
He turned to Cressida, "What is your preferred approach?"
Cal sighed a bit when everything went to business. "She's in my house, in disguise and currently safe. I often bring in artists and performers into my house, so it wouldn't raise suspicion. Because you were concerned about prying ears, we didn't bring her to you straight away. I did the play because it gave you a reason to come here besides business to throw off any spies you may have among your ranks. I thought you might bring your magical friend as your date to verify the truth being told here and you could then spirit her off to whatever safe house you have with a plausible alibi. Currently she trusts us, so she should be fairly cooperative." Cal looked completely at home in his ridiculous costume, although he was mildly irritated at having to explain everything.
"If you left now with the girl, it would only arouse suspicion, especially since she's already in costume. Of course, bringing the extra guard possibly did that as well. If you feel like we're already out in the open, I suppose we can dispense with the subterfuge. It would be a shame to cancel the play, but there can be more pressing matters than such diversions. But sometimes, diversions are the perfect way to do things you don't want other people to know about, am I right?" He reached up above his head and straightened his mock halo. "I gave her a part in the play, and there's usually an after party in which we can accomplish our business in a private room without suspicion. I know this whole ordeal isn't quite to your liking, but I am trying to accomplish the same goal you told us you had. Find the truth, keep her safe from an untimely death and root out the source of the problem."
Cressida scratches her head as Cal speaks, shaking it gently from side to side. The look on her face is two parts disbelief, one part amusement.
"I know this whole ordeal isn't quite to your liking, but I am trying to accomplish the same goal you told us you had. Find the truth, keep her safe from an untimely death and root out the source of the problem."
"You know, if anyone else pulled a stunt like this I'd have them behind bars. Obstructing justice and all that." She waves her hand dismissively before adopting a more serious expression. "But there are at least two reasons this is different. First, you've proven yourselves to be capable, honest agents. I don't know the details of your handiwork, and I don't care to know, but you've always brought me what I've requested, and this instance seems no exception. Second," She again adopts the nervous expression she held in the garden. "Second, I've come to believe that I may not be able to trust all of my men. I don't have any evidence yet, but certain facts have been leaked that the public should not know, and their only source is the Guard. If true, this would undermine the Guard's status in the eyes of the public, and so I am very hesitant to act on it. As for the girl, as far as my men know, I'm here to enjoy a play."
"Given all of that, I'm extremely skeptical of the Guard's ability to keep the girl from the queen. I don't truly believe that a painter killed the king, and the queen has the most to gain from her apprehension. And so I'll agree, for now, to allow her to remain in your custody. But I'll want to speak with her myself before we go any further. I simply have to believe, for myself, that I'm doing the right thing. Do you agree?"
"Given all of that, I'm extremely skeptical of the Guard's ability to keep the girl from the queen. I don't truly believe that a painter killed the king, and the queen has the most to gain from her apprehension. And so I'll agree, for now, to allow her to remain in your custody. But I'll want to speak with her myself before we go any further. I simply have to believe, for myself, that I'm doing the right thing. Do you agree?"
The doctor nodded, "I think that's reasonable. Hopefully, you won't spook her into silence. How about we do that after the play in the party?"
Pietro didn't want to meddle but..., "What are you doing to find out who the traitor is? is there something that we could do? Perhaps set up some sort of trap for him or her."
Garvid looks at Mouse. "I'd think she'd tell you about it first, kid. Keep it close, if it's still on you, and ask." Did someone put it there, or did it move there? He shakes his head.
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Remaining silent, Garvid nods at the agreement, chuckling at Cressida. "Huh. Ballsy one, isn't he. Though you've always had a thing for vigilantism." He tosses a glance at the nearby petunias, then clears his throat. "Well, boss, what if you make a statement that she's dead, then measure the response you get. A long shot, but it might be worth it. Who was the guard that threw himself off the tower?" He raises an eyebrow curiously. "We've got the guardsman's tavern here on East Shore, we might get around with someone he knew. Even his parents, if they're still kicking. I'll volunteer for that." Finally something I can use my head for...
He taps his foot. "So, I say we go and see the play, and see what happens after. I'm just as curious as you are to hear the long story."
"And so I'll agree, for now, to allow her to remain in your custody. But I'll want to speak with her myself before we go any further. I simply have to believe, for myself, that I'm doing the right thing. Do you agree?""
Yaziyah subjects the marshal to a long scrutiny before she inclines her head in agreement. And even if they didn't agree to the proposal, what could they do? It was a reasonable course of action and of course the marshal had to take her own precautions. The stakes were very high indeed. Garvid's suggestion has some merit as well. She turns to Pietro. "Doctor, you were able to make ... Li... look different. Would you be able to make someone else look like... Li?" Addressing the marshal, she adds: "Putting out a statement will likely not be enough. People expect a trial. A public execution." A faint grimace ripples over her features, quickly gone. "I'm sure there are a number of condemned criminals waiting their turn."
Li listens to them all discuss Trinia's fate. She feels somewhat protective of the artist now that she had called them 'sisters.' "Ya definitely need ta talk ta her yerself but she's awfully wary of anyone connect'd ta tha guard. If ya talk ta her here with us afta tha play, it should be fine."
Yaziyah's comment surprises Li. Not fully understanding her intent, the rogue says, "I don't be thinkin' anyone be wantin' ta look like me. I be gettin' inta some trouble 'cause of Lamm when I be younger."
She turns to Pietro. "Doctor, you were able to make ... Li... look different. Would you be able to make someone else look like... Li?" Addressing the marshal, she adds: "Putting out a statement will likely not be enough. People expect a trial. A public execution." A faint grimace ripples over her features, quickly gone. "I'm sure there are a number of condemned criminals waiting their turn."
Pietro was surprised by the question. "I don't think so. I mean I can change hair color and skin tone but that is about the extent of my skills for disguising."
He thought and added, "Besides, it would be cruel to condemn someone to die for another person. Wouldn't it?"
"Besides, it would be cruel to condemn someone to die for another person. Wouldn't it"
What Miss Yazi's sayin' is, what'f we disguised someone what was already condemned? Mouse's voice stays steady, even with the grim subject matter; after all, executions in Korvosa weren't exactly uncommon. Th' crowd gets their jeerin' an' hootin', an' someone gets offed what was gonna get it anyway. 'S a fair notion...are there other magicians what could do it? Th' changin', I mean?
As f'r Trinia...I think y' are doin' th' righ' thing, Marshal Kroft, ma'am. She looks nervous to address the Field Marshal so forthrightly, but for once her eyes meet Cressida's straight on. She ain't done it...she ain't got no reason, 'less there's somethin' she ain't told us. I don't know much 'bout politics 'n such, but I know a thing 'r two 'bout greed, an' profitin' from others hurtin'. Grew up in th' keepin' of a thug, af'r all. Trinia ain't got nothin' t' gain from offin' 'Is Maj'sty but a whole heap o' trouble - 'n fact, would'a meant losin' what musta been a peach of a job.
Subconsciously she tightens a small fist, cords of muscle in her lean arms tensing, as if already fearing the retribution her next words might bring. An' it seems 'Er Maj'sty's gained a whole awful lot a'ready...
Shaking his head, Garvid takes a long sip from his glass. "It's not right.", he turns at Yazi and Mouse. "Not that it's not going to be useful, no."
He stands up from the bench, crossing his arms. "When someone's executed, they're executed for their crimes, and noone else's." Or should be. There's some wrongfully convicted, but it's not the point right now. "They go to their fate, and the bloodthirsty bastards in the crowd learn why this person has died. Their deaths need to have a meaning, and they're not to be used as f!@%ing pawns in nobody's game. Be it ours or the Queen's."
He raises his hands. "I'm not saying not to use some subterfuge. I was thinking we can start a rumour she was killed by the raging mobs, and tossed into the river. We don't even identify half of the people who end up there, and one more's no difference."
Pacing around nervously, he continues. "We've been over this already, but who do you think benefits most from His Majesty's death, boss?", he asks Cressida. "So far, we'd gathered it's Cheliax, and the queen, which are pretty much the same f+$~ing thing. Something not as obvious? Hellknights' fees probably got the bursar a heart attack, too."