It's a little hard to make out as the challenge is not just the darkness but also the water that fills this pipe but it looks like a large sort of...crustacean moving around. More than one, actually.
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Brin makes his way around the room trying not to look.
what is this world coming to; cutting up people and handing them out to people as food. Cookie looks up at him, No, No what I did was way different. I mean I didn't hand it out to people.... at least..
Brin thinks the gods must be testing him.
In a daze he heads over to Ilsa and tries to examine the half filled pipe.
Brin looks down the grate... Hmm. Yes, those are crustaceans, at least in the sense they have a shell and claws. Might be delicious. Very large for a crustacean. Nope, not sure what kind.
He has no clue, perhaps distracted by his crisis of conscience triggered by the animated StayPuffed Cookie Monster.
After some unproductive wandering where he tries not to look too hard at any of the body parts, Bashiel hears Ilsa's exclamation and returns to the main room. He peers down the shaft and into the water.
"Creatures in... the sewers?" his jaw stiffens as he contemplates their presence "I guess they're here because they were getting fed. Like a garbage disposal, for whats left."
He swallows to keep the bile down. "Ilsa, Quin, you two managed to finish searching this place, right? Sorry I wasn't much help. After everything we've seen the last few days, I think its gone to my head. Especially since I haven't slept in a couple of days."
"If you're ready, lets return to the Field Marshal. We have what we were looking for." He returns to the base of the stairs and hefts up the armor-free Vancaskerkin.
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"This is disgusting," Ilsa says with a shudder. "They dispose of their garbage down that chute. Unless we think they might have disposed of any clues down there that were not eaten, we should probably head back and report," she says.
She frowns and looks around, having hoped to get closer to finding Briget.
As an afterthought, she focuses on the hole, trying to determine if anything valuable might be down there.
Ilsa does not detect any magic within the flooded tube.
Shortly after, Varor returns with a patrol of Korvosan Guard and Kalem, having secured the gear they'd decided to keep for themselves, arrives on the street outside the shop as the last of the guards walks in.
The sergeant, a human male with a rough beard and bald pate, acknowledges all of you before asking for a report on what's going on. He accepts the report without much question, then asks if you'll be taking the prisoners to the Citadel or if you want his detachment to do so.
"Bashiel here is a watchman. He can handle it. No need to interrupt your patrol even further by making you go all the way to the citadel."
Bashiel gives a sanitized summary of what had happened here, mentioning that everything is on direct request from the Field Marshal, and that the populace should probably be kept away until the site can be cleaned out.
"As my partner here says, we have it under control. We'll take them to the citadel, sir" The honorific at the end of Bashiel's report trails off awkwardly, and the arm he was beginning to raise up in salute is instead brought back down. He instead gives the sergeant a respectful nod.
Hard to believe this man and I now have the same rank, but I might as well act the part.
Quinlan puts a comradely hand on Bashiel's shoulder for a moment as he speaks softly to him. "You did well, Bash. Told them just enough, without overdoing... and gave some good advice about keeping the public away. Probably not a good idea to let folks know what kind of meat they were getting. Might start a riot. Shall we go now ?"
The patrol sergeant barely spares Kalem a glance, nods to Bashiel, "Of course. Well, go on ahead. We can take care of the corpses and will complete the paperwork to refer this place back to the exchequer for escrow..." His voice drifts off, as he looks around, glances back towards the front of the establishment, then shakes his head in frustration. "Ah, Desna laughs... This place is already in escrow, closed about a year ago. Anyway, alright... if you're taking them, I assume you've also collected any necessary evidence, but if we see anything, I'll send it to the Citadel with a messenger. Best get on now, sun is startin' to fall and the streets are still restless."
He turns back to his men and starts barking out orders to secure the place and bar the doors.
During your walk back towards the Citadel and as the shadows gradually reach towards the east, there is a slight commotion ahead of you. A man comes stumbling out of a tavern, wobbling a bit on his feet. The man is a mess. He, too, wears the uniform of the Korvosan Guard but it's an utter mess. He's unshaven and stinks of stale sweat and ale. Looking about, he sees the lot of you and recognition dawns on his face.
He comes stumbling forward with a smile and claps his hands on Kalem's shoulders . "Neffi! Buddy! Been too long sensh I shaw... saw you! Come, come... lemmi buy youz a drink or three." He turns around, waves an arm at the tavern he just left, "But not theres. They jusht threw me out... Bashtards."
Brin follows the others deep in thought, Thank the Gods when I said there was something wrong with the meat no one tried it. Why do that? there must be something more to it.
Bashiel adjusts the position of Vancaskerkin across his back as he watches the man with a wry smile.
What a disgrace. I guess the burden of the last few days was too much for him. He could have at least taken his uniform off...
He looks at the rest of the party to see if anyone recognizes the guy.
"Friend of yours? Let's go. He seems like he is having enough fun by himself and our newest 'companion' might well wake up soon."
"Bash, you know this guy?"
"No. Plenty of men in the Guard, and I haven't seen this one before."
Bashiel shakes his head disapprovingly at the fellow, but says "Lets leave him to his booze and get going. Its not our job to enforce personal discipline in the Guard."
The drunken man looks at the lot of you and seems aggrieved. "Neffi? How could you shay that? It's me...Grau..." His gaze passes over you once more and now settles on Quinlan. "Ah! Ah ha! Itsh okay Neffi...now I undershtand. You're not the firsht he's turned against me." He stumbles slightly towards Quinlan, squinting at him with a scowl.
"Yoooooooou.... yoooouuuuu... WRETCH! Firsht Vinnie, now Neffi! An' the king!!!" He nods slowly, sloppily...as if it all now makes sense in his alcohol addled mind.
Quinlan looks at Grau with a confused expression... "Me? What is it you think I did, um.. Grau, you said? I think you may have me confused with someone else... YOu need to go home and sleep it off I think."
Brin looks at Basheil and Kalem holding the prisoners. (I think we said we would take them in but they were knocked out right.)and trying to carry on a conversion with this guy.
Brin comes over and says " Why don't we get you another good sir. I think we should have a parting toast to the king, and you tell us what has you in such a mood."
Kalem hisses "We don't have time for this." Then, he says louder "Aye, a toast to the king!"
He then followed it up by saying "Just head back to the tavern, friend. We'll buy the next round as we catch up on old times."
Bashiel whispers to the others "If he insists on coming with us, we can do the Guard a favor and drop him off at the barracks in the Citadel. Someone there'll be more than happy to dunk the man in a cold barrel of water and slap him back into shape."
The man looks like he's about to assault Quinlan when Kalem, aided by the others, manages to deflect his anger and express what he interprets as shared commiseration. "Yes!" He clasps Kalem on the shoulders, "To the king! Itsh a godsh...gods damned shame, to loosh, the losh...to say gubye."
He sniffs, wipes at his nose, eyes Quinlan a bit darkly, then toddles back towards the bar. As the door opens, you hear the yell of a barkeep inside.
"Now he is someone else's problem. Let's go, quickly. Before our friend wakes up."
"DOn't have to tell me twice... " Quinlan replies and heads toward the citadel.
Bashiel spares a last glance at the drunk guard, mutters "Grau, was it?" under his breath, and then says "Alright, I'll lead the way."
Assuming the group isn't accosted again, he heads to the Citadel, delivers their captives into custody, and heads to report to Cressida, bringing the rest of the group to provide their perspective.
Varor watches the events unfold in silence, shaking his head at the cold end, There's no need to be so harsh on the man, a lot has been happening and in a very short time, it's understandable that some of us decide to cope with a bottle. Besides, how many of us can claim to be a better person than him? he asks.
"Certainly I am no better. But as we are carrying an unconscious, murdrous, traitor who recently stabbed me...a wound which still hurts, mind you...I am not in the mood to tarry."
As the sun begins to set on Korvosa, you see signs of the simmering unrest coming back to a boil. Rowdy crowds, piles of debris, and a few times when you look down long streets you see the glow of fires over the rooftops. However, aside from one nascent pro-queen mob that gives you a wife berth, the rest of your trip back to the Citadel is uneventful.
The watch sergeant at the main gate offers to take your two prisoners into custody but, if you prefer to hold on to them for now, he doesn't object and in fact offers to get you a couple of guardsmen to help carry the burden.
As that wraps up, a junior officer walks up and says, "Looks like you met with some success. The field marshal will want to hear if this. She's available in her offices though she said if you want to clean up and get a meal first, that would be fine." She pauses, then adds, "She's meeting with one of her counselors, so I sense there truly is no rush but I gather she wants to introduce you to him, too."
"I'm not particularly hungry, just a little tired... I'm fine with a little clean up, then going to see her... save the meal for later."
"Sounds like a plan Quin. We could use a wash and a chance to properly clean our wounds. Plus, I think if I had a warm meal in me while reporting to Cressida I'd be falling asleep while standing!"
Bashiel blinks tiredly, then turns to the junior officer. "Take these two to the holding cells, make sure they're situated and not treated too roughly. I'll stop by after our report."
Bashiel tries to clear his head and think about if he knows who Cressida's counselor might be.
Quinlan turns to the junior officer, "Might we know the name of this fellow we're expected to meet? It would be nice to know in advance, just a little heads up so we know how to comport ourselves."
The officer sees to securing the prisoners along with the attention of a medic -- "It wouldn't do to have them die on us..." -- then shrugs in response to Quinn's question. "Apologies, m'lord, but I didn't catch his name. Seen him before, but..." He shrugs. "A civilian."
"Well, civilian helps, thanks." Quinlan responds with a smile to show there's no hard feelings that he doesn't know more... He shrugs to the others... "I've got no clue... shall we go meet this fellow?"
"Bounty delivered. Payment time. Though that isn't the order I'd prefer. Anyways, let's go.
As you wrap up your business near the gatehouse, you see several patrols form up and head out into the night's streets. There is a nervousness about some of the greener Guards while the sergeants and veterans talk in a reassuringly cavalier tone about matters wholly unrelated to the unrest. To the west and north, even over the steep walls of the Citadel, you can see signs of fires breaking out again.
Your walk to the keep and up the flights of stairs to the field marshal's office is direct and uninterrupted. An aide d'camp looks up from his desk when you arrive, knocks on the door to announce you, then ushers you in in response to Kroft's bid to enter.
Sitting in a chair facing the desk, currently with his back to you, is an older gentleman--at least to judge by his salt-and-pepper hair pulled into a bravo's topknot. He wears a light, blousy shirt underneath a fitted crimson vest of crushed velvet. Cressida is leaning back against her desk in a deliberate yet focused conversation--one that seems to be wrapping up--when you step in.
She looks up and smiles, "And here they are! Welcome back. You're all alive, fairly fit it seems, despite a bit of the 'walking dead' look about you. Seems to be a run of that..." She grins and shakes her head. The exhaustion of these last twenty-four hours is getting to everyone.
Her other visitor begins to rise as clears her head of the cobwebs. "We'll get to that in a minute. Let me introduce Master Vencarlo Orisini, Swordmaster of the Orisini Academy and teacher to many of the Guard's finest." The man turns and casts an experienced gaze over most of you. A trimmed beard frames a face with gold-flecked hazel eyes; a few thin scars give further evidence to the man's profession.
The studious gaze gives way to one of warm welcome, particularly when he sees Quinlan. With a cavalier half-bow, he greets you all. "As the field marshal says. It's a pleasure. No need for introductions, I've heard of all of you, already know one, and look forward to seeing more of you all. But..." he looks chagrinned, glances back to Cressida, and waves a hand in the air as if to signal a surrender. "It will have to wait for tomorrow. T'would seem even an old man such as myself has his marching orders." He winks at Cressida who laughs.
"Ven, I know as well as anyone you take orders from none, particularly those in service to the Crown... Still, thank you. I'll see you in the morning?"
He nods, begins to walk out put pauses, wraps his arms around Quinlan, kisses him on the cheek, and says in a quiet but un-whispered voice, "Sorry to be so brief... we'll talk in the morning." And, other than an opportunity to exchange brief greetings, he departs.
Cressida watches him leave, then looks back at the rest of you, still warm but back to business. "So, tell me what's happened. Did you get him? What did you find?"
Quinlan looks momentarily surprised to see Vencarlo, then smiles warmly at him... "Cousin... " he says by way of a greeting... He returns the hug briefly... and nods in response to the whisper... he replies back sotto voce "Tomorrow then." The smile on his face as Vencarlo leaves is warm and very pleased...
Quinlan turns away for a few moments... looking at something enticing in the corner of the room, (books on shelves, war memorials, maps, a globe... whatever happens to be there)...
He seems a bit flushed... almost like he was .. aroused... maybe?
After a bit, he turns back and pays attention to the matters at hand...
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Ilsa addresses Cressida, and despite their successful mission, her voice seems resigned.
"We infiltrated the business with a ruse, found your turncoat guard, and quickly took care of the resistance. We also discovered that they were using the place to dismember and dispose of--well, at least one person, but we suspect more. Another bad guy off the street," she adds, a bit of hesitant shop girl creeping back into her voice.
I had been hoping for more than that...
Cressida listens to the brief report, her lips pursed slightly. "Dispose of a person? You mean, what, they had killed someone? I never thought much of Vancaskerkin but I never thought he'd stoop quite that low... Did you take anyone alive for questioning? Find any evidence?"
Bashiel blinks in surprise as Cressida introduces Vencarlo and manages a slight bow and a stammered "Mr. Orisini, I'm a big fan. And-" He cuts off when he sees Vencarlo's gaze move to Quin.
So they DO know each other. Well in that case I can save it for later. Maybe Quin can get me lessons with the master. What an opportunity!
Bashiel's building excitement deflates suddenly, and he visibly shakes his head.
What am I thinking? There is far too much to do to waste time on childhood dreams of practicing with a blade master. Duties. The people struggling out there in Korvosa won't wait while I play student...
By the time he focuses back on what's happening around him, Vencarlo is already leaving and Quin is looking very happy.
Bashiel gives Ilsa an encouraging smile as she reports in. As her explanation flags he continues "We've captured two men, Vancaskerkin himself and one of his subordinates. They're in the holding cells in the Citadel right now, probably regaining consciousness. His men, and he himself, resisted violently as soon as they realized we meant to capture them. The rest of his men are still at All the World's Meat, and were slain in the struggle." Bashiel bows his head "I apologize for not being able to bring more of them in, but it was a messy engagement."
"We learned that their shop was known in the community for sometimes providing meat to the poor, beef primarily. In the course of apprehending Vancaskerkin, we discovered that cows were not the only things being butchered in the shop. There were clear... signs..." He stumbles a bit in his telling, but his face hardens into a stern expression and he goes on "human limbs, without a doubt. We left a local Guard patrol there to secure the site and ward off any locals. The evidence should still be there."
"If its not too forward of me to speculate..." Bashiel watches for Cressida to give a sign of approval "All signs point towards Vancaskerkin using this site to dispose of bodies. There was ample equipment there to render the victims unidentifiable, and an entrance to the sewers that was likely used to dispose of the rest. However, I expect that he was hired by another party. The place was equipped for a larger... scale... of disposal than he could have needed for himself. At least, I think so."
"We recovered a set of coded messages from his office but have not yet had an opportunity to decode them. I was hoping we could rely on the Guard's resources to do so. Communication with his employer could be hidden within." He pulls out the notes and the letter from Vancaskerkin's room and shows them to Cressida.
Cressida listens closely to Bashiel and takes the papers wordlessly. She pages through them, grunts at the apparent code, then sits them aside on her desk before turning her head towards one of the windows. She stares for a moment, perfectly still, then shakes her head and looks back to you.
"We're missing some pieces. That's not a criticism of your work, though. Thank you for turning this up, however unpleasant the discovery we can't turn our eyes from it. Unless you know of someone, I'd like to send these papers to someone I know at the Academae to see if they can't decipher the contents. As for Vancaskerkin, this goes beyond desertion. This is treason. And we need to get to the bottom of it... Marek!!!"
Her command brings the aide d'camp back into the room within a heartbeat. "Send a healer to the brig and summon Kralek. We've a pair of former guardsmen to be put to the question." Her gaze is as cold as her voice and the aide snaps off a quick salute and exits.
To Ilsa, Cressida says, "You despair but you're not seeing the big picture. This isn't what I expected, but consider what we have at the moment. A small time drug dealer and thief branching out into the selling kids to cultists, and a former guardsman, deserting on the eve of the king's death, disposing of bodies, though killed by whom and for what reason we don't know. They may be unconnected but...pieces are falling into place."
She juts her chin towards the door before saying, "Orisini has volunteered to reach out to his network and see what else he can find. By the morning, we'll have answers from Vancaskerkin, hopefully a preliminary report from the Academae, and whatever Orisini has learned. And you...you all need some rest. Get a meal, washed up, and rest. I've had quarters set aside for you above the barracks so you'll have some privacy."
She waits to see if you have questions before she dismissing you.
Brin watches the whole scene with interest that Quinlan knows somebody close to the queen or at least people she trusts. Brin spent the time cleaning himself up and replacing the nobles outfit he bought back on him just in case he meets the Queen again.
She probably wont be in the barracks fool......, but you never know.
"I will be awaiting your pleasure milady with whatever humble assitance I might be able to bring." Brin gives a sweeping bow.
Varor stares at Cressida, Well looking for the big picture is admirable, you're making a big deal out of the shadow of a rat. The city has always been filled with scum like this, it's just that the chaos caused by the King's death has caused a few of the rats to scurry. But the rats still have their nest, and even if we do get these cannibal shack sales-rats to tell us where their nest is there are still dozens more out there. The worst case scenario is that one rat nest has grown too big to go unnoticed anymore, which will only be really bad if they manage to get some form of organization. And that's assuming these incidents are related. He says, wondering if the guard is really so naive as to believe otherwise.
"Field Marshall, do you mind if I speak with Vancaskerkin before he's interrogated? I'd like to hear what he has to say first-hand."
"Otherwise... you mention pieces falling into place, but to me these seem like unrelated incidents. I don't have your experience, could you explain why you think they're connected?" Bashiel looks troubled by the mention of Gaedren.
I'd hoped there wasn't much more to that one. Cressida can't mean that the cult Gaedren worked with and this body disposal business are related, can she?
Cressida arches a brow at Varor and it doesn't take a genius to see a red blush to her skin. A few counts after Varor is done pass before she exhales and responds, "I sometimes forget what it's like to speak with civilians..." She forces a smile then nods, more in exaggerated patience than agreement. "Of course, it is possible this is coincidence and, as you say, the shadows of rats. Possible. But do you really think Gaedren was the type to associate with cultists? Children were a resource to the man, not a religious endeavor. And you didn't know Vancaskerkin, so I'm afraid I'll have to trust ,y judgment of his character--and the peculiarity of this--over your own. But...maybe it's shadows. We'll know in the morning."
She turns and listens to Bashiel. "Right now it's an intuition based on small puzzles pieces. Maybe they're from different puzzles, but I've been doing this a long time. The king's death is an extraordinary instance, to be sure, but chaos usually gives people an opportunity to act out who they are...not change their nature. I also don't believe in coincidence. There is more, but we'll get to it tomorrow."
"As for the prisoners... I'll be blunt, sergeant, what's about to happen is the darker side of keeping the peace in service to the crown. Kraleck is very good at it, including deciphering was told merely to placate versus the actual truth. You're exhausted. Think it better that you get some rest. That said... It will take the inquisitor time to prepare. I can give you that much time with Vancaskerkin, but he is being put to the question and then, I'd he doesn't confess, to trial.."
Kalem listened to all of this in silence. Part of him just wanted to be paid. Another part wanted to help Ilsa, but this was beyond his pay grade. He was more than happy to let the professionals do their job. That, and it was as his brother always said to him. Better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool, than to open it and prove them right.
"I understand, Field Marshal. I shouldn't need very long."
Bashiel gives her a small bow and steps back to allow anyone else to ask questions. As they do, he leans on a wall to put some of the weight off his weary feet and gains a thoughtful look.
Vancaskerkin is a rotten sort, but I have a chance to try to make him see the value in offering the truth freely. Even if I can't sway the system to lighten his treatment, at least Osiris might look at him with more favor if he has repented in part. Perhaps a chance of redemption in his next life. Hm. How do I approach him...?