The trip to All the World's Meat is made through the back alleys and side streets, to better avoid the Queen's new thug enforcers. It's a strange world where the Hellknights are acting as their protectors, and the noble pair see the darkly-armored mercenaries confronting the crimson-cloaked Gray Maidens at more than one location. They are as silent and swift as they can be, despite the aching pain in Luca's leg.
All the World's Meat is a short and squat building on Stirge Street, hardly more than a few rooms with some stables outside for the animals to wait before they are slaughtered inside. A wooden sign emblazoned with the faded image of a fat, smiling cow swings aimlessly above the door, which stands ajar. There is a line that is more than two dozen people long - considerably longer than any other queue they've seen since the unrest began following the King's death. The pair get in line, eliciting a few stares for Alejandro's stately bearing.
Passing a grimy glass window, they can see three workers cutting and handing out meat as quickly as they can. The line moves fairly quickly, and before they know it they are halfway through with a dozen behind them as well. Lucadeno, back in his disguise as Luca the Gull, asks what is going on. The men in front of him inform him that House Arkona has purchased the full stock of meat from the butcher and donated it to whoever comes. In a conspiratorial tone, the man advises them (Luca, at least - he won't even speak to Alejandro) that there are rumors of a food shortage and that all foodstuffs and livestock that are coming in from the farmland surrounding the city-state is being confiscated at the gates on order of the Queen. He tells them to get as much as they can, because food is going to be in short supply soon.
A few minutes later, they are at the head of the line. A tall man with bushy eyebrows that merge into one just above his large, flat nose looks at them with some impatience. "What'll you have? House Arkona has paid for it with their compliments."
There is an audible grunt of pain as the Gray Maiden's sword tears through muscle and shatters bone, blood freely running down the elf's arm from the fresh wound. Nevertheless, Vaenathis remains on his feet, however unsteadily, with his weapon still held in his hand. Thoughts and images of noble sacrifice run through his mind as his vision momentarily blurs, but just as quickly disappear as soon as Elsaseth's commanding voice snaps him out of it.
"But, you...," the warrior starts to protest, his voice strained from both the pain and what he is asked to do, but never finishes what he has to say, already backing away from his foe and retreating towards the forest as instructed by his older and wiser kin. Despite knowing well that this is probably not a fight he can survive, much less win, and that it would serve noone if both he and Elsaseth were dead, he is still far from content with his choice, or lack thereof.
As he falls back, he too notices the archer attacking the armored fighters and adds his own voice to the elder's command. Though he speaks a single word, the urgency behind it is readily apparent.
'Hullo sir, I'm happy to take the generosity of the 'Rkona. I wouldn't be sayin' no to any shanks of lamb, it keeps well, as me old mum used to say,' Luca shares a crooked smile with the man, before leaning conspiratorially forward. 'Pardon a codger's curiosity, but why are the high and mighty suddenly concerned with the likes of ourselves?'
The flat-faced man looks cross when Luca asks him the question. "How should I know? Do I look like one of them fancy-pants?" He spits on the ground at the mention of the nobility, a remarkably unsanitary thing to see in a food shop. He looks up at Alejandro, his eyes closing to slits. "You look awfully well-fed. It don't seem right to me that a man like you is lookin' for free food, taking it from people who need it." His admonition turns the crowd buzzing. Alejandro looks around to see a suddenly-hostile crowd, apparently ready to turn on him.
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Alejandro laughs easily, moving his hand away from his blade slowly, to show he means no harm. "Free food my good man? Why ever would I look for free food, when my father and his father before him, spent so much money and so much time, building establishments to hand out food to the needy? I am Alejandro Endrin. My family build, run and maintain soup kitchens all over this town. I am here to speak to a legend, nothing more!"
Shaking his head softly Alejandro looks around, ignoring the hostile crowd, raising his voice slowly, "Who do I talk to about information?" drawing a light purse from his belt, he tosses it gently from palm to palm, staring around the room.
"Nylie! Get your head out of the clouds or you'll blow us all to smithereens!" The alchemy instructor, a rather excitable and expressive half-elf - Professor Donavhan - yells at the gnome while she handles a combustible mixture. Alchemy is not her best subject, but she is a gnome and thus is reasonably well-suited for the task. Standing on a stool to access the lab's beakers and pipes, Nylie successfully pours the green liquid into the reddish, viscous base using tongs. The mixture bubbles and pops, eliciting a smile from the Professor. "Most excellent! See, class? Alchemy is three parts ingredients and two parts steady hands. If no one has any questions, class is dismissed."
The students file out, heading to their next classes in the small, shabby campus of Theumenxus College. Standing in the shadow of the world-renowned Academae, the small school is hardly world-class. However, it offers a much more well-rounded magical education than its municipal rival - and for a fraction of the cost and an even smaller chance of horrific death.
Professor Donavhan, a rather eccentric character wearing a long white coat and thick goggles hitched above his forehead, calls to the gnome before she leaves. "Oh, Nylie! Can you hold back a moment?"
Alejandro's words seem to earn him some grudging respect. Endrin is still a name that commands respect and gratitude in the smallfolk of the city. Hardly any of them seem pleased about Alejandro casually throwing around more coin than most of them earn in a month, though. The butcher with the flat nose growls at him. "Put that away!" In a slightly less growling voice, he asks, "I take it that you're looking for some special cuts. Follow him." He gestures to one of the other butchers, who pulls back a waist-high half-door for them. The pair goes through it and follows the man to the back. They pass through the slaughterhouse, avoiding the blood spray as the workers slaughter a pig on a bloody table.
Up the stairs, they are led to a small room. Sitting behind a desk is a handsome human man with short hair and a strong jaw. Alejandro recognizes him from around Citadel Volshynek. He nods to the butcher, who leaves with a nod himself and closes the office door behind him. "I'm Verik Vancaskerkin. What can I do for you gentlemen today?"
Nylie sighs with relief at not actually causing any explosions. That wasn't so bad. Maybe I could be good at this! The wide-eyed gnome beams as Professor Donavhan praises her, then climbs down off of the stool that is nearly as tall as she is. The purple-haired young woman gathers up the slate that she uses for taking notes in class, when the brilliant (if odd) half-elf asks her to stay after. But... I thought I did okay. "Of course, Professor Donavhan. What is it?" A cat twines through her legs and mmmrows hungrily.
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Alejandro smiles faintly, staring the man straight in the eye, matching his appraising gaze, with one of his own.
"Alejandro Endrin, at your service!" Alejandro bows slightly to the man. "I remember you from my time in the Guard. Never thought I'd run in to you again and never like this, surely. Things sure got quiet when you left!" He grinned slightly, running a hand through his hair, before returning to the task at hand.
"We need dusters and we heard you were the man to speak to. We can pay, healthily!"
Luca follows in behind Alejandro, his eyes marking as much of the room as he can see, watching for clues on the nature of the man within.
He gleans little as he turns his observation to the man's face, and is happy to let Alejandro take advantage of his connections to the man.
Meanwhile he stews over the revelations from the butcher below. Arkona supporting the local populace, indicating a power play more intense than simply mollifying class hostilities. And the rumors about the queen are spiralling. We'd all heard rumors about her vanity and indifference for the people, but closing the city, issuing secret soldiers to commit unlawful arrests... If these rumors have grain of truth, and its hard to deny the Grey Maidens, this city is in much worse trouble than I ever imagined.
The leader of the Gray Maiden continues to sway in circles as the battle wages around her. She holds her hands against the face of her helm, making no attempt to pick up her sword or join her comrades in battle.
Bleeding from Elrith's arrow and smoking from Elsaseth's lightning bolt, the Gray Maiden marches dutifully towards the wizard and swings the sword with her injured sword arm. The blade falters mid-swing and misses the old man completely.
The third Gray Maiden swiftly cuts at Elsaseth after closing the gap between them. The blade tears through his simple cloth shirt and cuts into his thin skin. Fortunately, it is a very shallow cut - but one that the old man can barely take. His blood spills out onto the ground, spreading quickly over the dirt.
Elsaseth carefully withdraws from the two, avoiding giving them another opening. He stumbles back, clenching the cut on his torso. Blood drains out between his fingers. He blinks forward, teleporting outside the distance that they can charge for. He shouts to his defenders, "Into the forest!"
With the old man out of their range, Elrith takes advantage of the opportunity to put an arrow into the leader at point blank range.
Attack:
And still can't manage to hit her. She moves back to thirty feet away from the leader, not into the enclave.
As Elrith turns away from the Enclave, her blood runs cold at what she sees: a full squad of these gray-armored thugs - all women, from the look of their armor - marching down the street towards the Enclave. A pair of them carry flaming swords openly, a terrible sight for an elf for someone entering the woods. Elrith has a choice to either duck into an alley and hope to flee, or to head into the Enclave and seek (or supply) protection there.
Professor Donavhan fiddles with the dials of the alchemical apparatus. He is quiet as he does so, apparently concentrating hard to avoid killing them both in a fiery explosion. As the bubbling mixtures cool around them, the half-elf idly comments to the gnomish student. "You're aware that the Academae has shut its doors, yes? Their tiefling guards man the walls and their abjurers throw greater and greater wards to prevent the ills that plague the city from approaching them." Nylie nods, as all of the city has been gripped with rumors about the various reactions to Queen Ileosa's rise to power. It seemed to many, especially in the College, that the Academae had the right idea. The Professor continues after she acknowledges his words. "We have no such defenses here. We have neither the resources nor the infrastructure - walls and the like - to mount any sort of defense, should a mob come. I worry because it seems likely - inevitable, really - that the Queen will find need for our magical services, whether or not we wish to supply them. Tell me, what are your thoughts regarding our newly-ascended monarch sitting atop the Crimson Throne?"
Vaenathis continues falling back, ignoring the pain in his arm as best he can. As he moves, the elf tries to keep his eyes on Elsaseth, wincing as the elder is struck a blow. His worry quickly turns to a sigh of relief, however, after seeing the sage manage to get away, albeit wounded, and put some distance between himself and his assailants.
"Where is that one going?" The almost whispered words are spoken through clenched teeth and refer to the archer, though the question itself is more or less rhetorical. The magus' attention is mostly focused on Elsaseth, leaving their ally a secondary concern for the time being.
Vancaskerkin strokes his chin in a manner that seems calculated to appear thoughtful. He is quiet for a long moment as he considers the request. "Now, Master Endrin, what would a guardsman and a beggar need with dusters? I feel that I can safely presume that you do not intend to join the Dusters gang, and they've been out of fashion for some time. What, then, would a reasonable person conclude?" He holds out two fingers, counting off with his other hand. "One: you seek to convince the Dusters that you are one of their number, which would allow you to safely travel across Duster territory. However, their control of Old Korvosa is somewhat tenuous and can be avoided, especially if the Guard comes out in force. Secondly, it is a deception that would fall apart rather quickly, considering the relatively insular nature of gangs. Thus, inflitration is unliekly. Two: you seek to convince others that you are Dusters for whatever purpose. Were I a gambler, I would wager that something is going to occur in Old Korvosa soon attributed to the Dusters. The only question is, who do you wish to deceive? One would hope that the Guard is above harming civilians, so putting the citizenry in danger in hopes of galvanizing their opposition to the Dusters is not a likely possibility. Thus, I can only conclude that you wish to deceive a specific person or group of persons that you are Dusters, though it will not hold up to significant scrutiny. Tell me, am I off the mark?"
Elrith, arrow on string, half raises her now to shoot at first one Grey Maiden, then another. Realizing there are too many of them, and that her chances of evading thatany in the alleyways without Senjin or Jope are slim to none, and she didn't know the Vaults well enough to lose them there, there's only one other hope: go home.
Elrith curses, turns tail, and dashes in among the trees of the enclave.
Nylie considers Professor Donavhan's question intellectually, missing the point and treating it like any other academic problem. "Weeelll... At first, I thought that she just had poor relationship management skills. But half of that is anticipating others' reactions to your behavior, and the Hellknights showed up remarkably quickly."
Staring into the distance, focused on her line of reasoning, the intense little gnome gestures to emphasize her points. "The logical implication is that our new Queen knew how she was perceived, and simply preferred to use force to suppress the reaction to her ascension, instead of managing perceptions by changing her behavior. Therefore, we can expect her behavior to remain unchanged in the future: more luxury in the Castle, more hardship in Bridgefront, and more use of brute force to retain power at all costs."
Nylie starts at a sudden thought. "Ummm... And I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone I said that, since vain people always fear articulate critics -- and that goes double for unpopular rulers. So if the example of the Hellknights is anything to go by, she probably already has a plan in place to deal with anyone who speaks against her..."
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Alejandro laughs softly before shaking his head. "How about we do this straight up, no games, no playing around? I pay you for the Dusters and you deliver them to us here? Suffice to say... No innocent bystanders will be hurt by their use. I just have some... Cleaning up to do and do not wish to get my clothes dirty. Fair?"
Felicia gets bored by Nylie's speech and jumps up on the counter, ignoring the stool, in order to rub cheeks with her big sister. The athletic cat has pale eyes and large (but rounded) ears, along with a satiny coat that ranges from light brown to darker (almost black) on her face, ears, tail, and legs. Her thrumming purr is barely audible, even up close.
Verik Vancaskerkin tilts his head at Alejandro for his straightforward response. "Master Endrin, I've become reasonably successful since I left the Korvosan Guard, but it wasn't through the trade and sale of clothing. I will sell you the dusters that you need for your deception for a fair price in gold, but that is not my only cost. There is quite a bit of activity - legitimate and otherwise - in the city that I make it my business to know about. Knowledge, Master Endrin, is power, and knowledge is my true trade. Thus, if you want my assistance, you will pay my price. What is your intention with said dusters?"
The Gray Maidens, seemingly aware that they would be unable to capture Elsaseth in the elf's favorable terrain, pull back to the entrance where they are met by a squad of their allies. They plan and conspire quietly amongst themselves, seemingly working out their next move. They simply watch as the elves disappear into the Enclave.
For Elrith, it is like returning home. The city slips away as she runs through the grass and brush, dodging the trees and being one with nature. It is a strange feeling that she thought she'd never feel again. The Enclave is not particularly large, hardly more than a few acres, but it feels like the Mierani Forest. Home. She arrives at the main building of the Enclave, an embassy built around several trees that is suspended dozens of feet high in the canopy. She climbs the circular walkway quickly, making her way to the top of the embassy.
Elsaseth leans on a table, clearly out of breath. A dozen elven guards stand watch over him, looking at the newcomer with suspicious eyes. The guard - a magus, from his magical casting - who defended Elsaseth at the gate is there as well. One of the guards moves forward to investigate Elrith further, only to have Elsaseth weakly grip his arm. "No, she is a friend. Her arrows helped save me. She is a friend." He hobbles forward and offers a hand in a traditional elven greeting. "I am Elsaseth, Ambassador of the Mierani Elves. You've already met Vaenathis Konnal, my bodyguard. This is the remainder of my retinue, as I ordered the rest of the Enclave to return home three days ago."
Professor Donavhan nods furiously as Nylie speaks, a smile sliding across his face. "Yes, yes, you're right. You're very astute. Very astute indeed. Now, allow me to posit another question for you to analyze: in the absence of a change in the status quo, what is Korvosa's fate? While the variables grow exponentially the further out in time you attempt to extrapolate, where will the city be three months from now? Six? A year?" He stares at her intensely, patiently, waiting for her response. He slowly reaches down and idly pets the cat, subtly moving it away from Nylie to better gauge her reaction.
Despite herself, she slows as she climbs, taking in the scent and feel of the forest, and a smile touches her lips, despite her elven eyes swimming with fear.
Up top, her hand was halfway to her quiver before the ambassador was able to stop the guard. She forces herself to swallow as the ambassador introduces himself.
"I am Elessariel, daughter of Maelarwyn," she says, making up some random name she heard once.
Bluff:
Sword once again returned to its scabbard, Vaenathis stands not far from Elsaseth, nursing his shoulder as beads of sweat run down his face. "Well met, Elessariel," he says in greeting as the archer introduces herself. "Your help in this is appreciated." His tone is not quite so friendly, however his next words make the reason for that quite obvious. His bitterness is not aimed at the elven woman, but at himself. "Especially seeing as how his... bodyguard was not as much use as he would have wanted to," he mutters quietly, but not so quietly as to not be heard by those close by.
"What do we do now, Elder? We obviously cannot let them have you," he offers as he turns to the sage, his voice less strained now that he has had the opportunity to catch his breath. "Yet the Enclave's main entrance is not an option. And I doubt that we have the numbers to fight our way through them and out of Korvosa."
"Why are they after you? The queen can surely not think to remove everybody she thinks may oppose her, so she must have a reason for doing this. She doesn't care about the law, so you must have made yourself her political enemy."
Nylie beams at the alchemist's praise, then scrunches her forehead in concentration. "Wait wait, I know this. In Principles of Force, Professor Kenfel taught that a spell's effect depends on the system. On leverage and feedback loops, reinforcing or opposing. Your prestidigitation can cause a rockslide, if you pick the right rock off of the right cliff -- whereas a fireball cast at the ocean will have no effect at all, as other water rushes in to take its place, and the vapor rains down later. So. What's the feedback..."
The focused gnome doesn't notice the half-elf petting her familiar as she ticks off her thoughts. "Suppressing unrest is an additional expense on top of what caused the unrest in the first place, that will put greater pressure on Bridgefront and the rest of the city. So that's a pushback loop, where buying more enforcers will result in more disaffected young men with nothing better to do than cause trouble."
Nylie ticks off another finger. "Then every young man imprisoned or slain has a mother, a father, and maybe sisters and brothers. Maybe sons and daughters. Probably friends. Maybe they don't cause trouble except for speaking out -- but if the pattern holds, then the Queen won't even abide that. So there's another pushback loop that she'll push against."
The little wizard runs a hand through her purple hair and then holds her chin, looking off into the distance. "Okay... timeline. No idea. Depends on the Queen's restraint, and how good she is at silencing critics. But it's only a matter of time until everyone's a critic, whether that takes three months, three years, or three decades. Every scenario is a bad one: either her force is so brutal as to trigger the pushback right away, or we endure mild brutality for a long time."
Nylie shifts uncertainly. "Umm. But there are some classes after that one that I haven't taken yet. It fits with my history classes, but I can't be sure..."
Elsaseth leans heavily on a walking staff that one of the guards offers to him. With a sad voice, he explains to Elrith why Ileosa wants him dead or captured. "The day of Eodred's death, the same one of these new warriors approached me in Castle Korvosa when I went to offer our people's condolences. The woman - Oriana was her name, and she called herself a Gray Maiden - told me that we were to bend the knee to the Crimson Throne if we wanted to remain in Korvosa. I am an old, old man and I know tyranny when I see it. This was exactly what I told her, before I turned my back and left. Oriana is a zealot, and fanatically devoted. I fear that she will kill us all to prove her point."
Professor Donavhan nods manically, grinning as Nylie speaks and lists out her analysis. "Seditious young Nylie... Oh, how much promise you have! Wait here!" The half-elf academic walks over to the classroom's door, opening it with a flourish. "Just as I promised, my friends. She will be a fantastic addition for the cause."
Nylie's stomach drops as three human females walk in through the door. Each of them is wearing gray plate mail with a crimson cloak and faceless, plumed helm. They are clearly not freedom fighters - they are too well-equipped to be anything but the Queen's soldiers. Professor Donavhan closes the door - the sole door or window of the lab, she notices - and turns back to Nylie. "You may not know it yet, but you will serve the Queen. The Gray Maidens here will have use for your talents. This is Vavana," he says while gesturing to one of them. He leans in close to the gnome to whisper in her ear. "You should do what she says. She is not known for her kindness to those who resist, and your mind would be too exquisite for her methods."
Nylie swiftly inventories her magical options, and doesn't find a single one that she can use with three soldiers in her face, between her and a closed door. So she uses what she has left: audacity and charm. "Hi! I'm Nylie!" Smiling brightly, the frightened gnome sweeps her familiar off of the counter and holds her closely, while extending a hand awkwardly to the one named Vavana. "And this is Felicia. We like causes! How can we serve the Queen?"
Nylie's head swims with the sudden reversal. Clearly, Professor Donavhan - who she had thought of as eccentric and brilliant, qualities that spoke to her as a gnome - was not questioning her to find a sympathetic ally, but was looking for sedition to report to the Queen. His treachery was entirely unexpected, as she had trusted the half-elf teacher. The Gray Maiden called Vanara speaks. Though her voice is muffled by the covered-face helm, Nylie can make out a Vudran accent. "You will be re-educated to serve Queen Ileosa. Your talents as a mage will serve her well - just as mine do." She gestures to the other two Gray Maidens to seize her.
"Re.. uh.. re-educated? I'm not so sure that I like the sound of that!" Nylie's voice squeaks as she backs carefully away from all of the big folks in the room, Felicia held close. A faint cacophony of noise filters in from the door, gradually growing louder, until those inside can make out the unmistakable sounds of a riot: shouts, running feet, the splintering of wood and shattering of glass.
Nylie can almost hear the sneer through Vanara's helm. The Vudrani Gray Maiden steps forward and viciously backhands the gnome in the face, knocking her backwards and sending Felicia running for cover. Professor Donavhan winces but does not move to help his student. As blood spills from a laceration on the tiny academician's face, Vanara steps over Nylie. "I am well-schooled in the arcane arts, and I will not be fooled by your cheap parlor tricks. I hope that you have more talent than that hidden deep inside." She gestures to one of her lackeys, who bends down and roughly starts binding the gnome's hands with rope.
"Ow!" Nylie staggers at the blow and draws herself up with as much dignity as she can muster, bloody and being tied. "I'm really quite good. You're just disappointingly perceptive." Beads of sweat form on her brow as the door handle turns, and it slowly swings open a little. The colorful wizard screams mentally at her feline little sister, projecting all of her raw terror.
Felicia arches into the half-elf's pets, purring quietly at the friendly attention. Then some strange women come into the room, and her big sister gets scared. The loyal familiar stays as still as she can when Nylie scoops her up; but when the lovable gnome gets struck, Felicia can't help dashing into a corner by instinct. Then the door opens a crack, an avalanche of fear and urging comes pouring through her emotional connection with Nylie, and the athletic cat dashes out into the corridor, keeping as far as she can from the scary ladies wearing metal.
"Bend the knee?" Vaenathis scoffs, the words accompanied by a mirthless chuckle. "Is the Spoiled Queen crazy? Or simply a foolish child, if her age is any indication?"
"Still," he continues, after a brief pause to think on the matter, his voice now a little more composed, "we have been a part of the city since almost the first day of its existence, if I am not mistaken. Not to mention that this attack on the Enclave will no doubt create a rift in Korvosa's relations with the Mierani Forest itself."
"Something needs to be done. We cannot simply flee this place and what? Just wait until the woman dies of natural means? Though I should think an untimely demise is much more probable, given her... lack of manners and what appears to be a natural gift for making enemies."
"I should have taken the shot when I had the chance," Elrith mutters to herself.
Turning to the ambassador, she says, "Sir, I thank you for your hospitality and shelter here, but if you have any sort of back exits to this forest, I really do need to be going. I have...friends...out there who need me, and may have just died if the queen has precipitated any other attacks today. At the very least, I need to be able to warn them."
"Not to sound ungrateful or cavalier, but this," she gestures to the forest, "isn't my fight. I just couldn't stand by to see the queen's perversion of justice carried out on any more people, especially respected diplomats."
The Gray Maidens make no move to catch the swift-footed feline as Felicia darts out of the room. Professor Donavhan seems cross that the cat is gone, as he did seem affectionate towards it. Then again, his behavior doesn't make any sense to Nylie. He had never seemed like an informer or lapdog for the queen until he brought the Gray Maidens in without warning. She has little time to consider it, though, because her captors march her out of the room with little fanfare. They drag her out, wrenching her painfully as they do so, through the suddenly-deserted halls of the College. They step out into the light of East Shore. Theumanexus College is on the northern side of the ward, nearly at the wall that separates the city from the "Thief's Camp" set up outside town. Vavana, leader of the kidnappers, says to the others, "Let's get going to Castle Korvosa. I imagine that this one will take a while before she joins us." She says this with a particular relish that makes Nylie shudder inwardly.
Elsaseth hands a crystal vial, about the size of a small child's fist, to Vaen. He pulls back the crystal stopper with a glass clink. "It is a potion that should heal that injury. Take it. I have the rest of my guard to assist me in my return and to keep me safe. I have a mission for you."
The wizened ambassador turns to Elrith. "This is your fight, whether you accept it or not. You are one of us, as you speak with the accent of our people. It takes more than a century for the Mierani dialect to fade away, even when you speak in Common, Elessariel. Your heart is pure, and you seek justice."
He turns back to Vaen. "Take her to the edge of the forest. You know it as well as any do, and you will know how to escape these criminals before they enclose us completely. I wish you to assist her escape, and stay here in Korvosa as my eyes and ears. The Mierani will not let this stand, but we must leave the city for now. We will leave through another avenue. This is where our paths must diverge." The old man smiles at Vaen with paternal pride.
Felicia watches from a surprisingly high ledge, as her big sister is forced out of their home by the bigger ladies in grey. She hunches down, uncertain what to do or where to go next.
Relief flashes across her face at the mention of being shown the exit. "Not to rush a painful good-bye, but we need to go, now. Good luck, Ambassador. If the Mierani wish to see Korvosa restored, they will find friends here, no matter what appearances may seem."
Elrith heads for the stairs, giving the two men whatever privacy they feel they need for their farewells.
Vaenathis briefly bows his head in thanks and drinks the potion handed to him, wincing a little as the magical concoction takes effect and his wound starts to knit itself closed. He then turns back to Elsaseth, nodding his agreement with the older elf's instructions, albeit a little reluctantly.
"Very well, Elder," he says simply, responding to the other man's smile with a thin one of his own. "Be safe," he adds, before then moving to bid farewell to the rest of the ambassador's entourage. "Make sure he makes it out of the city safely, yes? And try to stay alive while you do so, if you could."
The magus then moves to stand next to the archer, ready to guide her out of the Enclave and assist her as Elsaseth asked of him. "Shall we then?"
Senjin finishes preparing the hippogriffs for flight. He has worked up a good sweat and likely earned a good rest, but he is still literally bouncing on his feet, ready to do...to do something! He looks about hoping to spot where the Sergeant might have got off to, hoping to see him before the cadets took off.
Feeling anxious as Nylie gets further away, Felicia springs from the ledge to follow. They've been so close for so long, it's hard to imagine being apart. And it's hard going through the normal traffic of a Korvosan thoroughfare when you're a foot tall; but the talented feline does her best, seeking out her beloved gnome's familiar smell whenever a rumbling cart or mass of people gets in the way.
Senjin does a superb job of preparing the restless hippogriffs and securing their saddles. The Sable Company marines mill about the place, clearly unhappy with being grounded. They switch out patrols often, keeping a number in the sky at all times. Senjin has played and replayed what happened earlier to Alistair in his mind repeatedly, still unsure if the man was struck down or if he could have surprised the vicious attack. He longs to get to the others, to find out what had happened to them, but the emergency here seems to be keeping him here.
Sergeant Fristwell approaches him, startling the young Shoanti man lost in his thoughts. He beckons with a silent motion to join him in a quiet part of the stables. The buzz of conversations dulls behind them. He whispers to Senjin, "I need something from you. I need eyes in the sky, outside this part of the city. I can't send any of my marines until I know what the Commandant is going to do, but I have no control over what an off-duty stablehand does. If you took one of the training 'griffs for a ride, perhaps launching between patrol changes, that would be your business. If you happened to get eyes from up there as to the situation with the Gray Maidens, especially their motions to and from Castle Korvosa, that would also be your business but something I'd be happy to learn. Do you understand me, Senjin?"
The elves silently slip through the forest as only their nature-blessed kin can. They move from tree to tree, making barely a sound. They head south at Vaen's direction, heading to a secret exit. In truth, the "wall" of the forest is hardly more than a dense grove of trees. They make it along the edge of the forest for a while until Vaen directs them to a small, brush-covered hole between two wide oaks. They wriggle through, finding their boots back on Korvosa's cobblestones near the south wall of Southshore. The aggressive soldiers are nowhere to be seen, but there is an unfamiliar smell in the air. They both look towards the forest, and are sickened by what they see.
A thick plume of black smoke rises above the forest. The Mierani Enclave has been set aflame.