Leah Kynes studies the Jabbyr, and moves in with a determined barrage of strikes. He sends a vicious snake whipping through the air, cracking the air with reverberating thunder Fool! Kynes hastened limbs flicks around a limb, wrenching tendons from bone. Kynes pulls back the bladed scarfs, and with a brief note of inspiration, fills the air with a complex knot of whipping chords which is then released in a carefully laid studied strike against the Jabyr's torso.
Kynes’s bladed scarves slash Jabbyr’s exposed flesh, raking across his face. He screams, clutching his eyes, as blood and vitreous humor leak out between his gloves fingers. His ax clatters onto the wooden planks of the platform and he spins away reflexively, stumbling into the magical pit created by Talfryn’s spell. He hits the acid with a splash, continuing to scream in blind terror for several moments until the vitriol does its work.
Pilt’s thugs have fled the rooftop in an effort to escape the illusory dragon.
After a few moments, the confusion effect fades, and you all come to your senses. Yazi notes that her wand tip only struck her armor. Laori’s spiked chain returns to the material plane, and she casually slings it over her shoulder.
Garvid: 43/72 (54/83)
Kynes: 36/52
Laori: -27 (25 NL)
Li: 42/61
Talfryn: 16/57
Yazi: (16) 42/64
Laori peers down into the pit before it fades. ”Haha, wow! That’s pretty gross. Cooool.”
”If you help me, I’m sure those of my order’d be most grateful. There’d be a reward, I’m sure.” Mar looks more hopeful than certain. Still, even in his wounded state he selects a broken plank of wood and wields it as a club, prepared to fight his way to freedom.
Yaziyah comes to her senses with a growing sense of shame and dismay. She had always prided herself on her strength of mind and spirit, and now she had been easily defeated by the dwarf's foul magic. She blusters about, trying to hide how mortified she feels.
"Yes, yes, you can admire the pit of deadly acid later, now gather here quick so that the spirits can heal you, and then we should look for that wretched painter before these thugs come to their senses."
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With a bang and a spray of splintered wood, Mouse and her newfound ally burst out into a hallway, then onto what until extremely recently was Pilts’s court. The man looks worse for wear, clearly the victim of a recent thrashing.
The bedraggled man is Mar Kavrad, your latterly colleague among the Lamplighters.
This is the storeroom in which Mouse and Mar were held. It’s crammed full of crates, boxes, and barrels, much of it full of costumes and props from Exemplary Execrables. Most of the contents have been damaged by fire.
This large room might once have been an attic storage area, but the rafters above now brood over an empty chamber. To the northwest, a large portion of the roof and floor below have collapsed entirely, leaving a void looking out over the sodden skyline of Old Korvosa.
This is the choker layer. Some panicked thug must have run into this room, for fresh entrails litter the floorboards. The rest of him is nowhere to be seen...
Here you find a collapsed stairwell filled with rubble.
Several barrels and crates sit against the walls here. Stacked on some are many blank canvases and what appear to be ceramic containers. A stack of paintings leans against the eastern wall, stretched on wooden frames and covered with sheets. The paintings incorporate themes of shadowy dragons, torture, violence, darkness, and scenes of pain and despair in vivid colors.
Laori shrieks with delight. ”O. M. G. These are totally Scream’s work! It’s so obvious.” She gleefully goes through them all, though her expression soon falls. ”There’s something off about these, though…”
The air in this room smells sickly sweet—a combination of flowers and vinegar. The unpleasant smell likely comes from the fourteen poorly preserved heads mounted on the walls of this grisly trophy hall. Most of the heads are human, although two are those of elves and one is from a dwarf with a beard roughly sheered off to match the cut to the neck. To the north, a small, child-sized bed sits against the wall opposite a wooden table decorated with a magnificent set of silverware.
The silverware set on the table is worth 500 gp. A platinum and crystal decanter filled with fine brandy sits on the table alone, and this alone is worth 750 gp.
This extravagantly decorated bedroom would seem to belong in the richest of noble villas or monarchs’ castles—at least, until one looks a little more closely at the sheets on the four-poster bed and notes how stained and frayed they are, or examines the tapestries and bed curtains and sees the patches of mold and threadbare edges. A tall, well-stocked bookcase to the south turns out to be leaning against the wall for support; the contents of its sagging shelves are poorly produced books with violent or erotic names on their mildewed spines. Everything is slightly musty, stained with age, and well beyond its prime. Only the three paintings hanging on the wall hold up to closer examination, but their grisly subject matter might make them difficult to show in most public venues.
The three paintings are all original Screams.
The first depicts a full portrait of a thin humanoid wearing shadows as he stands framed by a dolmen of great size. The figure’s brilliant blue eyes are the only true points of color in the piece, and they seem to almost glow with anger. This painting is worth 450 gp.
The second painting depicts a rugged mountain range above a desert under a harsh blue sky. In the foreground, a quartet of Vudrani tusked camels ridden by N’darr tribespeople race across dunes that, upon closer examination, consist of tiny skulls. This picture is worth 1,100 gp.
The final portrait is the most disturbing, for it depicts a handsome man in the process of peeling away the flesh of his arms as if he were taking off a pair of gloves. Underneath, his arms are muscular and covered with glittering blue scales. The man’s expression is one of delight, yet his eyes are empty pits of blackness. Half seen in the shadows beyond him are thousands of humans impaled on towering wooden poles erected in the shadow of an indistinct shape looming on the horizon--perhaps a castle, maybe a mountain, but likely something more. This painting is worth a staggering 2,000 gp.
To the north, a simple wooden door is secured with a lock and a heavy wooden bar.
”Get out!” Laori whispers. ”Now these are legit Screams!” She stands stone-still, taking in the work like the communion of a true believer.
The loud sound of wood splintering turns Li's head, reflexes ready with her weapon. Her mouth drops open momentarily before she exclaims, "Mouse?!? How'd ya...? What be goin'...?" The rogue easily recovers from her shock and she runs forward and throws herself against the woman, embracing her. "I be missin' ya. Lots."
Li searches Mouse's former prison and finds a jewelry box that someone tried to hide. She opens it and pulls out a couple items. "Anyone be knowin' what these be?"
Her nose wrinkles as they come across the victim of cloakers. "Insides never be nice ta be seein' on tha outside."
The rogue glances at the paintings but honestly didn't share Laori's appreciation of the works. "Ya must be happy we be findin' 'em. Hopefully this be meanin' we be gettin' close ta findin' him."
It's then that the wooden door with its lock catches Li's eye. "Mebbe he be behind tha door. While ya be lookin' at tha paintin's, I be over here lookin' at tha door."
Kynes breathes deeply through his nostrils, letting his mind come to rest. He looks up and surveys his companions, then nods in appreciation as a wave of positive energy floods his limbs with a holy health. Kynes arches his back, releasing a large crack, and begins to wind his scarf neatly about his shoulder. It would need to be cleaned, else it would soon be poisoned with the rot of the bits and ends of flesh that had been caught by the scarf's steel barbs. You needn't be so har.. Kynes began to tease Yaziyah, when he was interrupted by an explosion of splinters from a doorframe.
A young woman and a heavyset man appeared from the door frame and immediately there was a cacophony of greetings, and an exchange of smiles with the woman. Mouse? Kynes was a bit unsure, but his companions relieved expressions were enough for him. His eyes flicked back to the man who now stood tall letting his face come into full view. Sudden recognition flooded Kynes Mar? Is that you, man!? Kynes quickly flashes a confirmatory hand signal to the man, who returned the coded response in his own moment of recognition. The order will be relieved to know that you yet live, Mar...even if barely. Kynes gives the man a critical inspection, before gripping his arm. We have much to discuss, if we are given time.
..
These items escape my knowledge, but I do recognize the pattern of those blue scales beneath that man's flesh. Very similar to those of a blue dragon.
The sound of splintering wood turns Yaziyah's head and she watches the newcomers with a guarded expression. Yes, that might be Mouse, or it could be some dirty trick. But as the woman comes out into the open she recognizes more and more of the little things that tell her it's really their former companion; the way she curls a shoulder as if waiting for a blow to fall at any moment, the way she moves her head, the way her eyes dart around...
"Ahhhh, Mouse girl, it is good to be seeing you again." She wraps the prodigal woman into a tight hug, then pushes her at arms' length to examine her critically. "Are you hurt? Do you need the spirits' aid? How did you come to be here?" She cuts herself off, obviously many more questions crowding her lips. "Let's talk as we search, we are here on a mission. There is a painter we must find, Salvator Scream his name." The Shoanti woman snorts to show what she thinks of such a name. "He might have knowledge of where our old friend Vencarlo Orsini is, and he might have information about the whereabouts of the former seneschal."
Moving briskly, she traverses the rooms and corridors of the decrepit structure, her thinned lips the only reaction to the disturbing sights inside. She glances only cursorily at the paintings - that kind of art was not to her taste, and she doesn't understand those who enjoyed it. There were enough dark things in the world, what need to go and imagine more and put them on canvas?
Li finds no traps on the lock and easily disables it.
The air in this room is an unpleasant mix of body odor and paint. A lumpy straw mattress lies on the floor in one corner of the room, partially covered by a few blankets, while in the other stands a large easel on which rests a nearly completed painting of immense fiends attacking a village.
A plain-looking man dressed in paint-stained rags huddles behind the door. Flea bites cover his skin, and his eyes are sunken. Upon seeing someone other than the Emperor and his thugs, Salvator Scream, the renowned artist, crawls forward, rising up to his knees and gesturing with clasped hands. ”Please help! Oh, thank the gods! You’ve got to help me get out of here!” He breaks into desperate sobs, begging for rescue between each heartbreaking shudder. ”Please! I’ll give you whatever I can! Take me with you!”
Laori screams with glee and runs forward. She crouches down, prepared to give Salvator a big hug, but suddenly remembers the spikes on her armor. ”Oh gosh, sorry! Mr. Scream! I’m, like, your biggest fan! I’ve been following you ever since The Apocrypha of Sibilant Shadow! I know this is like, so basic, but could I have your autograph?” She produces a quill and parchment from some impossible compartment within her catsuit.
Salvator blinks back tears, momentarily stunned. ”Fine, yes, whatever you want! As long as you’ll take me with you!” He looks to the rest of you for some sanity.
Lord Talfyrn reaches out to squeeze Yazi's shoulder as she chides Laori; a brief gesture, one of deference and solidarity, and quickly snatched back when she no doubt glares at him.
Coughing into his fist, he waves his hand, dismissing the illusory dragon, and turns as the two strangers smash through the wall. The situation is explained; the identity of the two revealed, and Lord Talfryn, just before they head off to explore, gives them both a bow.
"Lord Talfryn, at your service."
The rest of the quarters are explored with obvious disgust; he does little to disguise his revulsion at the sight of the severed heads, and incinerates them in a flash of fire.
On and on they go, through the carnival of filth and madness, until they reach the regal final chamber.
Lord Talfryn is struck by the paintings, though for entirely different reasons than Laori. Even as his companions search the chamber and go to the door, he rubs at his thick mustache and murmurs, "Terrifying. The accuracy of these portrayals is astounding. Scream must be not only a fervent adherent of Zon-Kuthon, but cursed with actual visions of the god and religious scenes from its holy book."
When the door is opened and its flea-bitten inhabitant revealed, Lord Talfryn draws himself up, presenting himself as a forbidding figure that fills the doorway.
"Laori's perverse tastes aside, you shall have to convince us to aid you, Mr. Scream. None of us are in the habit of assisting the worshipers of Zon-Kuthon. So tell us: where is Vencarlo Orisini? Proving yourself helpful might go a long way to ameliorating our distaste."
Salvator shrivels back from Talfryn's stern gaze, retreating back onto his mattress like a wounded animal.
"No! Please! I-I can't talk to you here. The Emperor, he'll... Wait, where is the Emperor? Have you slain him?" He raises his empty hands defensively. "Please, I'll tell you whatever I know! But not here! Anywhere but here! He's kept me as a prisoner. I haven't left this room for days! I can't go on like this..." He breaks down again into tears. "Please, I just want to go home..."
"The emperor is dead," says Lord Talfryn. "As is his hideous gnomish executioner. His lackeys are dispersed. His reign of terror, over."
Salvator's piteous state finally softens Talfryn's gruff exterior. "But very well. Out of this room. Come on. And then you will talk, young man, before you tire out our patience."
"Zon-Kuthon, eh? No wonder the crazy elf is so enamored with him." Yaziyah watches Salvator Scream sternly from behind the doorway, side by side with Lord Talfryn.
She is in no mood to linger in this place, and their quarry is clearly terrified. Whatever information he might have is probably clouded by fear and his obvious insanity, so she is all for taking him away from this place that was his prison until very recently. Perhaps give him a good meal and a very thorough bath while they're at it. Flies, honey, and all that.
"Alright, alright, quit your snivelling, we will take you out of here. Are you fit to walk?"
"Yes!" Salvator jumps to his feet. "Tell me we're leaving this hell, and I'll be fit to fly!"
Amidst the chaos of Pilts's defeat and the scattering of his forces, you're able to find temporary "safety" in an collapsing building several blocks from the Palace. The building, a hive of claustrophobic and deteriorating flats, is a former tenement now abandoned, its windows shattered and great holes pocking its walls. Laori assists with a silence spell as you climb the stairs to the third floor, dismissing it once you are situated and ready to talk.
Pilts, despite his assertions, collapses onto the ground. ”Do you have any food?” he asks weakly. If offered rations, he eats ravenously for several minutes, then continues.
”Yes, I spoke with Vencarlo on several occasions…” He peers around, checking for eavesdroppers. He continues in a whisper. ”Vencarlo asked me for everything I know about the fate of Castle Korvosa’s seneschal, Neolandus Kalepopolis.”
”The story begins years ago, when I was just a teenager discovering my craft. My father is a devout Abadaran. He found my paintings gruesome, sadistic, and unpalatable. He kicked me out of our home. I sought shelter with several artist friends, living in a flat here in Old Korvosa. I swiftly found regular work creating backdrops and other paintings for His Majesty--er, Pilts Swastel, purveyor of all things grisly and vile for that most notorious playhouse, Exemplary Execrables. It was at Pilts’s suggestion that I changed my name from Bevery to Scream. It was all the easier for him to market my art.
He leans back wearily, painting the image like so many brushstrokes. ”My work as Salvator Scream drew many admiring eyes, and not just among the regulars at the playhouse. I became favored by noble families and other prominent citizens--they found my work shocking, but safely scandalous. Among these patrons was the seneschal of Castle Korvosa, Neolandus Kalepopolis.
”I believe Neolandus was more interested in the artist than the art. After he attended a showing of “Tears of Abendego” at Exemplary Execrables, he arranged to meet me. Neolandus and I formed a fast friendship, one of the few in my life, and we began meeting at various eateries to discuss history, art, and religion weekly. Neolandus, always a private man, kept our meetings very secret.
”Early on the morning of King Eodred’s death, he appeared at my home, desperate, bloodied, and poisoned. He was delirious, but managed to tell me that he needed a place to hide. Of course I let him stay with me. I nursed him back to health, whereupon Neolandus confided in me that--” He glances around once more, then drops his voice lower than ever. ”--confided in me that Queen Ileosa had murdered her husband, and that she’d entered into an alliance with the Red Mantis. They had tried to assassinate him, and his escape was as much luck as anything else.
”Worse, he said, there was something about the queen that… that wasn’t quite right, that she’d changed recently, grown ‘worse’, whatever that meant. He refused to tell me more, saying that the less I knew, the safer I’d be.” At that, Salvator breaks into a rasping cackle. ”Neolandus said he needed more time to think things through and do some research before he decided on a proper course of action.
”We both knew my little home was not a secure hideout for such a wanted man. But, as I said, I had fostered relationships with many noble families. The Arkonas, in particular, were among my most appreciative benefactors. I suggested to Neolandus that he seek them out for asylum, and he grudgingly agreed. Neolandus didn’t trust them, I think. But, he acquiesced, and I escorted him up to Arkona Palace late one night, just a few days before the quarantine occurred. Glorio Arkona himself gracefully agreed to hide Neolandus in his estate as a favor to me. But I haven’t seen him since.
”But you asked about Vencarlo Orisini, didn’t you? There were rumors about Neolandus surviving the Mantis, and I suppose Vencarlo’s investigations led him right to me. I didn’t want to tell him anything at first, but after several confrontations, threats, bribes, and reassurances that he meant Neolandus no harm, I revealed to him that I’d handed Neolandus over to the Arkonas. Afterall, they seemed friendly enough, and I felt they could be trusted to hide Neolandus from the queen.
Salvator hesitates. ”Vencarlo… he… nearly lost it. He believes the Arkonas are more criminally minded than most suspect. His rage frightened me into fleeing. But, now I’m not sure what to believe. I fear I may have traded Neolandus’s former danger for a fresher one. Vencarlo, too, for I suspect Orisini would have made an attempt to infiltrate Arkona Palace to find out more. That you are looking for Vencarlo suggests that neither are safe.” Salvator grows restless. ”Please! Korvosa isn’t safe for them--they need to escape the city! Me too. And you as well!”
Grumbling quietly towards the pit of acid slowly emerging back with the gruesome stench of its victum, Garvid shakes his head. "How's that for a painting.", he murmurs. The bursting of noone but Mouse herself through the wall, carrying a wounded Lamplighter in tow, seems to send him into a first honest smile in a while, as he laughs out and grabs her arm in a warrior's greeting. "We've sure missed you."
The gruesome art and ponderings seem to do little but raise the guardsman's ire, as he huffs and grumbles quietly, almost making a show of looking out for the Emperor's goons. Through the route to the dilapidated building, he constantly glances over his shoulder, before nodding down as the rag-tag group sits down for a breather, then listens in to the painter's tale.
"I knew. We knew it.", he squeezes out acridly a moment later, his boot kicking away a pile of rubble. "The queen is behind it all, and she's not human. Not by a long shot." He grunts out once again, leaning onto his halberd. "Yeah, Scream. The Arkonas are so f#@$ing dirty that a dung heap worker washes his hands after a handshake with them. Although..." he pauses, shrugging. "I guess they've been rotten for so long, they might not be working with the Queen. If I was the Arkonas, I'd kill to have blackmail on the Queen, and you, Mr. Scream, just about handed that on a platter." He cracks his knuckles. "Either way, I say we pay those snakes a visit. Been meaning to ever since that Vancaskerkin business."
Nodding to the rest, an expression of disgust spreads onto his face. "I'd hate to suggest it... but our residents psychos are innocents in here. Think we should send 'em to out of out, so Scream's safe?", he suggests. "Beats being Scream's nanny, and he's bound to have a chance to make it out with Laori on his side."
Turning to Scream, he nods. "How long ago did you tell Orsini that you gave up the seneschal to the Arkonas? Do you know how many guards they have in the mansion?", he starts darting questions towards the painter.
If I was the Arkonas, I'd kill to have blackmail on the Queen, and you, Mr. Scream, just about handed that on a platter."
"But wouldn't that mean the Arkonas would keep him safe?" Salvator asks hopefully
"How long ago did you tell Orsini that you gave up the seneschal to the Arkonas? Do you know how many guards they have in the mansion?"
"'Twere a few days before the quarantine. I've been trapped in a cell so long I'm not sure of time. How long's that been? A month?" "Guards and servants they have, but I'm not sure how many. I've never been an invited guest. I've only dealt with them at the theater and at art shows."
"I'd hate to suggest it... but our residents psychos are innocents in here. Think we should send 'em to out of out, so Scream's safe? Beats being Scream's nanny, and he's bound to have a chance to make it out with Laori on his side."
"Yes, thank you!" So desperate is Salvatore that he willingly accepts an escort from his "number one fan".
"That sounds awesome!" Laori agrees with Garvid. "I can absolutely take Salvator and Mar back into the mainland. I'd suggest veering clear of your house for now, Salvator. Those otyughs in your backyard looked pretty hungry, ha! Plus, we can talk more on the way. I have like, a thousand questions for you!" Laori beams, dark eyes glittering.
When Salvator collapses from lack of sustenance, Li digs out some of her rations and hands them over to the artist. "Ya be lucky ya be useful ta Pilts. He may not be treatin' ya good but ya still be livin' which be more'n others c'n say."
Her insides go cold when Salvator reveals that he had basically served up the seneschal on a silver platter to the Arkonas. "There ain't been anythin' bad in Korvosa lately that tha Arkona name ain't been tied ta. I be thinkin' they be keepin' him safe like tha Emperor be keepin' ya safe, which ain't much. Hopefully Vencarlo be findin' him. Now we just gotta be findin' 'em both."
"Do ya happen ta have a paintin' that we could be deliverin' ta tha Arkonas manor so we c'n be gettin' close without raisin' suspicion? Or be they be lockin' tha doors tight when tha riotin' be startin'?"
Mouse accepts Li's embrace gratefully, returning it with force sufficient to suffocate her friend if they'd held it much longer, then turns to include everyone else in her grateful smile. "Fine, 'm fine," she answers Yazi's ministrations as she falls into step with the older woman to move through the corridor. "Crossed the river with a 'eap o' food an' medicine, see if I could 'elp make things a bit better for the folks in 'ere - but gettin' in was so easy, I di'n't figure on gettin' out bein' so much 'arder. Holed up in a bit o' alleyway t' sleep, an' woke up with four o' the thugs from 'ere on top o' me an' ropes on my 'ands an' feet. Weren't much I could do after tha', so I was bidin' my time for somethin' t' distract 'em so I could slip loose. An' you guys do quite th' job o' tha'."
Still grinning, she lets the rest of the party lead the way in the search - they knew more what they were looking for, after all. Seeing the painter's work doesn't do much to endear her to the man himself, but she still takes up position near the rear of the group to protect him as they dart through streets in search of safety. A bit of a surprise forces its way upon her as she recognizes one of her old bolt holes from her time living in Old Korvosa; the bare walls take her back to a month ago, and a lifetime ago. She lets herself drift on the memories for a moment as Garvid and Li take the lead in speaking with Salvator. The news doesn't sound good - Vencarlo had been a friend and ally, and from the vitriol in Garvid's voice, the Arkonas were neither. But she had no doubt that whatever happened, her friends would overcome...and she'd be right there with them. No running this time.
Yaziyah gets a sour look on her face as the Arkona name is uttered. "Pfah! A long time ago, I thought they actually cared about the little people. But remember all the shady dealings they were involved in - that butcher shop, the hospice, probably a lot more that we don't know about. And they barricaded themselves in their mansions and left Old Korvosa to be torn apart by gangs." A sudden thought occurs to her and she looks searchingly at the others. "There was that dagger... who has it? That could be a way to gain access. Or a painting, like Li suggests."
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Artists are forever dependent on benefactors, and it is hard going if you are choosy. But then, you hang with those you keep. The Arkona family casts shadows faster than the Lamplighters can hang lamps. But by saving you today, we have become your new benefactors, and a debt of work is owed. Your next exhibit will entail a dissertation on the redeeming and benevolent qualia of butterflies, rainbows and kittens.
"There ain't been anythin' bad in Korvosa lately that tha Arkona name ain't been tied ta. I be thinkin' they be keepin' him safe like tha Emperor be keepin' ya safe, which ain't much. Hopefully Vencarlo be findin' him. Now we just gotta be findin' 'em both."
"Yes, do what you can to save them!"
"There were numerous paintings at the Palace, did you happen to carry one away?" Salvator eyes Li's handy haversack.
""There was that dagger... who has it? That could be a way to gain access.
"Your next exhibit will entail a dissertation on the redeeming and benevolent qualia of butterflies, rainbows and kittens."
"It may come to that," Salvator admits bleakly. "I've run into a wall lately. Figuratively speaking. I've worked desperately to create and recapture my old inspiration, if only to produce a work that the emperor would enjoy. With each failed painting, his frustration and anger grew, and he regularly beat me after I finished the newer paintings. When you came along, I knew with each brush stroke that all I had to look forward to was a worse beating than the last one. I'd started to hope that the emperor would eventually go too far..."
The night passes without incident, save for the distant barrage of arcane and alchemical ammunition fired between the forces competing for supremacy of the outlaw island. Very early the next morning, before the sun rises, Laori prepares to depart with Salvator and Mar. She’s written down the address of a Lamplighter safe house, the destination for both of her wards.
”It was completely amazing getting to meet you all and chemically burn the flesh from the emperor and his goons!” she gushes, extending a gloved hand for a firm and energetic handshake. ”Like, if I were holding a castle seneschal, or something, prisoner and knew you were coming, I would be, like completely terrified right about now!” She squeals. ”If you survive and manage to escape Old Korvosa, we should totally get together for a coffee or something and talk about volunteer opportunities. Wouldn’t that be awesome, Salvator? Oh my gosh, I never thought I’d be volunteering with the Salvator Scream!” Another excited squeal. ”Aaaanyway, we’ll get out of your hair now, I know we all have a million things we should be doing. Keep in touch!”
Kynes grips Mar, bidding the man a farewell. There was little to say after he had made his report. Mar would be sure to inform the Lamlighter council of their activities, and provide whatever assistance they could.
She had to admit that Laori was... oddly charming. Her enthusiasm, as misplaced as it was, just a little bit infectious. Yaziyah pats the girl (and how odd to think of her as a "girl", when she was likely hundreds of years old) gingerly on a part of her costume that has the least amount of spikes.
"Take good care of them, and of yourself, Laori."
To the other two, she gives a nod, before turning her attention back to the matter at hand. Which hand, rummaging in her bag, happens upon the hilt of a familiar object.
"Well, look like it was with me all along." She holds the silver dagger aloft, peering at it in another frustrated attempt to divine its powers.
"I shall ask the spirits what would be the best course of action."
For the next half an hour, the shaman lights up a small bundle of herbs that she uses to fumigate one of the less cluttered rooms, then kneels on the floor with her eyes closed, breathing evenly as she sinks into a meditative trance, a scrap of parchment and a nub of charcoal placed close by.
Watching Yazi work was still unusual, but Mouse had learned by now to trust her methods - it wasn't as hard to trust in spirits' guidance when she'd been pulled into all of this by speaking with a spirit face-to-face. "C'n we ask 'em, 'Wha's the best way'd t' find out what 'appened t' Vencarlo?' Mebbe that'd be the best - could be goin' straight t' the Arkonas ain't the way t' find 'im. Askin' like that, either way we get some 'elp, whether 's the way to get t' the Arkonas or a way where we don' gotta deal wit' 'em."
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"Be safe, Laori. I be feelin' that if'n anyone c'n be gettin' these two back ta Korvosa, it be ya. I definitely ain't goin' ta be forgettin' ya. Mebbe our paths be crossin' ag'in."
"There were numerous paintings at the Palace, did you happen to carry one away?"
Li grins, "We did be takin' a few that look'd ta be worth some coin." Her face sobers at Yazi's mentioning of the dagger, "But mebbe tha dagger be better, it havin' been a gift from tha Arkonas an' all. But it mebbe be raisin' more questions than anythin' 'cause it t'weren't gift'd ta us."
The rogue's eyes widen, "Ya don't be thinkin' tha Arkonas were usin' tha meat house ta get rid o' people be opposin' 'em, do ya? For those of ya who be joinin' us after, that's where we be findin' tha dagger. At a place where they be givin' meat ta tha needy that ended up bein' people."
Kynes is taken aback by the possibility raised by Li. Meat house? half to himself.
Li elaborates, "It be call'd All the World's Meat. A butcher shop bein' tha idea o' an Arkona ta 'help' tha people. We be shuttin' it down."
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The pre-dawn shadows crawl up from the floor, consuming Laori, Salvator, and Mar like a swarm of locusts before all fade into nothingness .
Vencarlo. Yes, that is the object of your inquiry. You veer right, then left, racing to the end of a corridor and halting abruptly before a pair of doors unlike any of the others. These are large bronze doors, each carved with images of tigers chasing other tigers in four adjacent circles. At the center of each circle of tigers, a snarling tiger head looks out. Something heavy batters the doors from the other side, sending a cloud of dust bursting outward. A low, menacing growl emanates from within. Then the doors slowly creak open, revealing a lush, sunlit garden, and the towering, slender spires of Arkona Palace beyond.
The vision fades. On your parchment is scrawled the following in jagged script: the third eye sees all.
Yaziyah comes out of the trance slowly, eyes unfocused as her bony hand closes on the piece of parchment by her side, her other hand rubbing absently against her skirts and leaving charcoal smears behind.
"..."
She clears her throat and tries again. "The Arkona palace is where we find our answers. 'The third eye sees all.' The place is not without dangers, it seems. We must tread carefully."
She rises slowly, creaking, muttering the phrase to herself. "The third eye sees all. Yes, of course, it is what third eyes do, but whose third eye...?"
House Arkona is the de facto ruling aristocracy of Old Korvosa. This is due to both the geographical location of their estate, as well as their financial oversight and contributions to the businesses of that ward. The Arkonas live inside Fort Korvosa. Less a ward than a moldering citadel, this second incarnation of Fort Korvosa stands atop Garrison Hill and overlooks both Old Korvosa and Conqueror’s Bay. The high granite walls around the fort have received no maintenance since their completion, and have begun to crumble as a result. Thanks to an arrangement made between House Arkona and the city, Palace Arkona along with its many side buildings provides the home to the ward’s only permanent residents (the inscrutable but feared noble Arkona family and its servants). On the opposite side of this ward stands the whitewashed buildings of the Endrin Military Academy.
Arkona Palace is perched at the highest point atop Endrin Isle in Old Korvosa. The palace is home to the Arkona family alone; servants and guards dwell nearby in one of two outbuildings. The grounds are mostly open, decorated here and there with tiny copses of trees, exotic topiary animals (elephants, cobras, and tigers being the most common), beautiful flower gardens, and exquisite fountains. The palace is a breathtaking structure built in the Vudrani style, with golden pillars, high windows that rise to tapered points, minarets, and domes decorated with slender spires.
The Palace itself is as black a place as its exterior of Janderhoff black marble. Treble-headed elephants, peacocks with sabers, and tigers with carven eyes gaze from the walls of the palace and over the gardens beyond. A massive black-marble and wrought-iron wall surrounds the property, and guards patrol the yards and ruthlessly eject trespassers. The bizarre architectural embellishments and decorations of the palace come from distant Vudra, whose imports have made House Arkona the power it is today.
Glorio has publicly demonstrated affection for his cousin and second-in-command, Melyia, whose beauty rivals her lord’s equally handsome appearance. Scandalous rumors abound as to the nature of their relationship, but rather than crush such rumors and make their whisperers disappear, Glorio seems to revel in the attention they create. Wherever he and Melyia go, eyes follow--even when those eyes belong to the equally beautiful and jealous queen of Korvosa herself.
House Arkona’s surprising ascension from political and social obscurity has heralded a new and unexpected direction for the family. Long tolerated in the higher circles, the family has become a force to be reckoned with not only in the streets, but also in the royal court and posh sitting rooms of the nobility.
A black marble arch depicting dozens of elephants standing one atop the other frames a great ebony door in the south wall of a wide and airy entrance hall. Above the door, an elephant looks out over the hall, its single eye a glittering bloodstone the size of an apple. Tall windows grant a commanding view of the palace grounds, and a rich red carpet, ten feet wide and luxuriously thick, provides a pathway between doors to the west and north, and around a corner to the east. Each of these doors, as well as three smaller ones to the west of the northern pair, are decorated with images of a six-armed, four-faced woman who rides a tiger with human hands for feet.
I'd often see Lord Glorio Arkona walk in Old Korvosa with his entourage distributing candles to the poor. As a Lamplighter, this could hardly be disapproved, but I was always suspicious of his intentions, nevertheless.
Leah hums Glorio Glorio, where is thy cousin Glorio?
If you've been invited to even a single noble social function in the last year, you will have no doubt heard of the scandalous rumors of Glorio and his lady cousin Melyia. Lovers the whisperers contend, and these rumors, continues the whisperers, has inspired envy and jealousy in our queen. But whether courtier's nonsense, or not, I do not know.
Yaziyah nods at the Lamplighter's words. "I have heard the same. Well, let us have a chat with this lord." She looks inquiringly at the others, to see if they had other, better ideas.
"I ain't be sure what Glorio Arkona be doin' now but he used ta try ta make things better fer Ol' Korvosa, even if it be superficial. If'n he be catchin' tha eye of tha queen then mebbe they be allies in all tha bad that's happenin'."
She looks at the imposing Arkona estate and asks, "Do we be darin' knockin' on tha front door? What be tha chances they be seein' us? Paintin' or dagger aside? With how tha Emperor be terrorizin' Ol' Korvosa, their doors most likely be locked up tight ta visitors."
Easy. I'll knock on their front door and let them see my my big pearly teeth. I'm quite adapt at charm offensives. I suppose we should have brought along the painter as the excuse, given that they are his benefactors.
The moment you get close to the arched entry, an audible alarm is triggered that sounds like a bull elephant trumpeting. This is accompanied by an illusory animation of the elephant head above the door. Very soon thereafter, you are intercepted by a patrol of six house guards sporting uniforms of the Arkona colors: blue, red, and gold. ”Who goes there? Please state your business with House Arkona!”
Rather than contemporize, Kynes told a truth that would sure to be of interest.
We bring a tale of the late Emperor of Old Korvosa that will be of intense interest to this House.
Garvid's gaze casts upon the darkened marble and the exotic architecture of the Arkona palace. Grumbling as he crosses to Endrin Isle, one last glance at the heart of Old Korvosa, he mutters, "Same. Most of these nobles, their family trees are a lot more like shrubs." He spits on the cobblestones. "The out-of-the-way palace, the rumours, the weird letters... Not only are they a bunch of a@&#@*%s, they're a walking cliche." His attention caught with the magnificent statues and scenery, he frowns even further as he casts his glance at a vicious tiger. Well, Zellara, that still doesn't prove anything., he stubbornly thinks to himself as the guards descend upon them, eyeing the leader with impenetrable gaze.
Noble houses and ostentatious affairs were beyond Mouse's experience - and from the forbidding look of the estate's entrance, she'd have preferred to keep it that way. Still, she remains a pace behind Kynes, silent but ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. They get their guards, we get me. Let 'em try 'n start anythin'. The talking she leaves to those more experienced in such matters.
Perhaps due to Kynes’s extraordinary way with people, the guards simply nod and lead you along the immaculately landscaped palace grounds and through the entrance.
They accompany you down the carpeted path, through the marble arch, then silently return to their patrol. You are immediately greeted by a tall, pleasant man who wears an eye patch. ”How do you do?” he says with a practiced bow. ”I am Carnochan, the palace majordomo. I understand that you seek an audience with Lord Arkona? The Lady Meliya is, regrettably, unavailable.” He again hears your request, smiles, and bids you follow him down the grand hall.
The walls are lit with everburning torches, their light shimmering off of the twenty-foot ceilings. Exotic plants in clay pots are abundant, and the palace is rich with their scents mingled with that of sandalwood incense burning in brass censers that hang in various spots along the ceiling.
Carnochan steps into a comfortable room warmed by a large fireplace, its marble sides and mantle carved into a parade of capering monkeys and tigers. A large sofa is set against the north wall, while a few cozy-looking chairs sit to the south. He extends a hand. ”Please. I will inform the Lord Arkona of the pleasure of your visit. He will attend to you as precious time permits.”
Your precious time is rewarded, for after only a few minutes Glorio Arkona himself appears, Carnochan following in his wake.
”Greetings!” Glorio booms with a wide grin. ”It is a pleasure to have you. Carnochan!” He tsks. ”Why is it you have not provided our guests with wine and cheese to enjoy?” Carnochan tilts his head apologetically. ”At once, my lord,” The majordomo swiftly strides away to rectify this faux pas.
Glorio eases onto the couch. ”You know who I am. Who are you? Tell me, what is this of an emperor?”
Li watches in awe as Kynes gains access to the Palace for them. Leah be tha only one that c'n be givin' Cal a run fer his money.
Once again, the rogue feels like a fish out of water as she follows near the back and tries not to be noticed by the guards or the majordomo. Who be puttin' carpet outside o' a house?
The rogue cannot relax as she waits for Lord Arkona to join them. She walks around the perimeter of the room, looking at everything. She hopes the others know what they were going to say to Glorio. It seemed highly inappropriate to ask him if he had two prisoners in his home.
"Anyb'dy else be surpris'd they be lettin' us in like this? I keep be waitin' fer the guards ta rush in."
At the mention of wine and cheese, Li's stomach reflexively rumbles. When was the last time they ate? But more importantly, could she even trust anything they served them?
She finds the most shadowy part of the room, which isn't easy to do with all the candles about, and stands there quietly. She watches the Lord intently as the others fill them in on the Emperor and why they were supposedly there.
Kynes performs a gentlemanly curtsy.
You are most perceptive my Lord Arkona. You apprehend the present state of affairs quite clearly, for indeed no Emperor resides in Old Korvosa today or ever, and the pitiful man who entertained such ghastly pretensions is now, let us say, met with a ghastly end. Kynes smiles.
I am Kynes, Investigative Leagate of the Order of Lamplighters, a fact which will have been obvious to my lord Arkona from my garb and lantern. I, and my retainers, entered Old Korvosa to ascertain the state of affairs since the quarantine, and if required, depose of the pretender who upended the traditional Korvosan order. It was required.
Kynes looks about taking in the fine, if excessive luxury. We come for several reasons. First, to inform you of the fall of the pretender. Second, there is presently a need in Old Korvosa for order. Riots, mobs. The streets are dangerous for everyone, and My lord, you are best positioned to restore order, and I beseech you to dedicate some resources to do so, as it is all our interests to keep mobs from defiling our homes.
Before Glorio could respond and by the by, we happened on a certain painter of yours in the pretender's stockhouse. He was in such a state of shock, but he kept babbling, throwing out your name, and the name of a certain man, Vencarlo. I think it was. He seemed a bit distraught.
Kynes looks intently at Lord Glorio for a moment before smiling again. Ah well. Mad painters.
Like Li, Yaziyah is unable to relax in this den of nobles. The luxurious furnishings leave her unimpressed, and her eyes flicker in every corner, looking for anything suspicious.
"Third eye, but we are met with a man with only one eye. Or perhaps that is the meaning of the riddle, together they have three eyes? In which case... beware the majordomo." the Shoanti keeps muttering to the others as they are waiting for Lord Arkona to grace them with his presence.
As the master of the house appears and Kynes delivers his speech, she remains seated in one of the chairs, perched on the edge with her back stiff and straight, hands in her lap, watching the noble's reaction. She instruct Slinky to hide in her cloak - she doesn't want to reveal his existence just yet.
"Your majordomo mentioned that Lady Meliya is unavailable? Pity, we had something that might belong to her which we wished to return. A curious object, to be sure." Saying that she retrieves the dagger that has been vexing her for so long, and turns it idly to catch the light.
"I'm jus' 'bout always waitin' f'r guards t' rush in when we're in places like this. Win' up either bein' right or gettin' a good surprise f'r once." Following Li's lead, Mouse withdraws to the room's periphery as well, simply taking in her surroundings and waiting for things to go wrong. She didn't trust these people for an instant, not with what they'd heard so far. But until the tides of the conversation turned, this newcomer seemed more than capable of leading the conversation...best to let him.
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”I am Kynes, Investigative Leagate of the Order of Lamplighters, a fact which will have been obvious to my lord Arkona from my garb and lantern. I, and my retainers, entered Old Korvosa to ascertain the state of affairs since the quarantine, and if required, depose of the pretender who upended the traditional Korvosan order. It was required. We come for several reasons. First, to inform you of the fall of the pretender. Second, there is presently a need in Old Korvosa for order. Riots, mobs. The streets are dangerous for everyone, and My lord, you are best positioned to restore order, and I beseech you to dedicate some resources to do so, as it is all our interests to keep mobs from defiling our homes.”
Glorio nods his head appreciatively at Kynes’s introduction. He also eyes Garvid’s uniform. ”The Lamplighters are an old and respected institution in Korvosa. I have always thought it inappropriate that your station does not receive the respect it deserves. I rank you as highly as any member of the Guard or the Sable Company Marine. Ah! There is another tragedy, when those in government cast aside their most valuable assets with reckless abandon. Such decisions do not bode well for the city. There is more than smoke in the air--I fear a change for the worse. I recall fondly a time when sage advice and wise counsel ruled the day, but such days are now past. Would that they might return. I’m sure you too dream of the day when enlightened philosophers return to Korvosa’s great halls? We must be ever vigilant, for they can be found in unexpected places.”
His dark eyes light up at the news of Pilts’s demise. Ah! It is as I hoped when Carnochan informed me of your arrival! You must trust that I share your concerns completely. After the quarantine, the ward erupted into chaos. We as a family did all that we could to keep Old Korvosa away from complete anarchy, but at some point even coin fails. The resources available to us to combat the rise of a despot amidst the current of revolution are, it turns out, quite limited. A lesson in humility.” He smiles in concession. ”But there was more that could be done, wasn’t there?”
He stands, raising a cup of wine. ”Congratulations are in order! A toast to you and your success in stopping this despicable imposter! With this development, I believe the mob will collapse upon itself, and our own agents will be able to step in and regain control of the ward.” He drinks from his cup, considering. ”And more than a toast, a gift is in order.” He places his cup upon a table and crosses the room to a small writing desk. A key appears in his hand, which he uses to unlock a drawer. He produces a handsome ring set with a deep green bloodstone. ”For you, in appreciation of your trouble.”
Carnochan and another servant return with trays of cheese and fruit, and decanters of wine and mint tea.
”And by the by, we happened on a certain painter of yours in the pretender's stockhouse. He was in such a state of shock, but he kept babbling, throwing out your name, and the name of a certain man, Vencarlo. I think it was. Ah well. Mad painters.”
Glorio looks surprised. ”Not Salvator Scream? You spared him, I hope. The man is a genius. What do you make of his ramblings?”
”Your majordomo mentioned that Lady Meliya is unavailable? Pity, we had something that might belong to her which we wished to return. A curious object, to be sure."
A laugh shakes Lord Arkona's respectable frame. ”My sister is a collector of all types of things. I hesitate to even ask where or how you’ve procured her trinket. I’m sure she will not mind if you keep the dagger as a further reward.”
Li studies the head of the Arkona house as he speaks and determines that the man is sincere. She takes a chance by asking him a question, "Do ya be havin' any guests that be stayin' wit' ya? Anyone who mebbe be needin' shelter when Pilts be startin' ta make trouble?"
Kynes smiles genuinely We thank you for the gift. We will endeavor to use it wisely.
He shakes his head Salvator is fine. We had him smuggled out of Old Korvosa; he was quite exhausted by his trials.
Korvosa is sometimes many things, some grand, some generous, some vile....but it is always Korvosa, and all those that have tried to change that fundamental essence has failed, and will always fail, whether that demonic rot is in the street or on a throne, Korvosa will remain.
Lord Talfryn stands to one side, hands linked behind his back, frowning under his walrus mustache.
The man seemed sincere, yet he knew that he wasn't. Cognitive dissonance. First hand experience versus accepted knowledge. How to reconcile? Of course, it was possible his intentions were protected by magic... speaking of which.
That ring. A gift? Or a trap? Examining it might allow him to play a simple ruse...
"May I see that ring, Leah?" Talfryn forces a smile. "What a rare treasure! Surely it's magical? If I may examine it with a little more care?"
And once the ring is placed in his hand, Lord Talfryn casts Detect Magic, focusing on the ring, but, casually, taking in Lord Arkona as well.
While Lord Arkona has the appearance of sincerity, Yaziyah remains skeptical. She has seen first-hand, after all, how convincing someone can be, either through long practice or magical means, or both. While it may be true that the extent of the Arkonas' influence in Old Korvosa was limited by circumstances, she was finding it very difficult to believe that Glorio's concern for the city had altruistic motives. And he was awfully nice to a bunch of armed, strange people who were practically intruding on his property.
On the other hand, if he was opposing the queen, it would make sense for him to gather all the support he could. The Shoanti considers the nobleman with a long, appraising look. The enemy of my enemy... Would that even work? We cannot trust them, but perhaps...?
She does not finish the thought. She needs a lot more from him than a flashy bauble. She detaches her long, lean body from where she was propping a wall, taking a few steps forward.
"Let us speak plainly, I have no patience for word games and tongue twisting. And no love for the queen." She pauses and looks straight at Glorio Arkona, letting her words sink in. "Korvosa is in a bad way, and it needs more than 'concerns'. We have done as much as we could to help." She gives the noble another look, as if to say Now it's your turn.
”We thank you for the gift. We will endeavor to use it wisely. Salvator is fine. We had him smuggled out of Old Korvosa; he was quite exhausted by his trials.”
Glorio looks relieved. ”Wonderful. It is good that his artistry should continue, for I fear these recent events will have given him fertile soil for inspiration. I am glad you like the ring. Persons with such skill will no doubt put it to good use!” He chuckles.
"Let us speak plainly, I have no patience for word games and tongue twisting. And no love for the queen. Korvosa is in a bad way, and it needs more than 'concerns'. We have done as much as we could to help."
"Do ya be havin' any guests that be stayin' wit' ya? Anyone who mebbe be needin' shelter when Pilts be startin' ta make trouble?"
His laugh fades. ”Ah, and so you were quite serious. You seek Vencarlo Orisini. I sense that we are in pursuit of similar goals, and so I will confess.” With a rueful smile, he continues. ”It’s true, Vencarlo is here. The seneschal, Kalepopolis, as well.” He lifts his hands in mock surrender. ”But...simply handing over these two guests may be… well, a trifle complicated”. I mentioned that Melyia is collector of things. All sorts of things. Including...people. I’m afraid she’s taken stewardship over both men and deposited them into our cells below.”
He appears apologetic. ”What’s more, Melyia does have a playful streak. I’ve warned her that it’s unbecoming of her station, but she persists. In this case her whimsy has led her to secure the cells in ways with which even I lack familiarity. Indeed, she’s spent a small fortune renovating the chambers below to her own tastes. I have not entered our dungeons in some time and cannot be sure what you might encounter. I will not enter them now. But I will do the next best thing. If you are determined to retrieve these men, I will tell you how to access our dungeon without harassment. From there, I fear, you will be on your own. I apologize for these difficulties, but in this I fear my hands are again tied. What say you?”
The Vivified Labyrinth Kynes breathes.