The secretary's eyes widen and she looks briefly at the guard in the room. "I'm not letting you wait in his office! Ye gods!"
With a huff, she scribbles down a note. "I can take you to wait in the western conference room. The lord-mayor will join you when he returns, and I'll brief him on his way."
Stepping away from the secretary's desk, Karmid huffs.
"They have no idea what's going on in their own city, or even the territory! Turtleback Ferry is in danger, as well as the Fort now!"
Izzy remains silent at the mayor’s office, trying to add ‘gravity’ to their appeals by his presence alone… because diplomacy is not in his skillset.
When they step away from the secretary, he offers, ”Governments tend to be large beasts. We’ll see if this one is swift or lumbers.”
Ro settles into a conference room chair, using a second to prop up her feet. She settles in for a quick snooze as she replies to Issengrim.
"Don't expect too much."
Half of a grim smile slides across the working side of Izzy's face, "I never do."
Lia has no interest in the Mayor, and does not think to search for a temple, or even the Tower of Cynosure. Instead, she attempts to make her way back to where she and the others were staying.
Along the way, she sits down in what she considers a safe spot a bit away from but still close to other people.
She takes a look at her dress and the deep cuts across her chest and stomach.
I am not decent. I can see my nipple. Roja will be angry with me for running around like that.
Deciding the dress is ruined either way, she rips off the sleeves, making one into a makeshift bandage for the arm with bite marks on it, and the other sleeve as an improvised cover for her front, not wanting to draw more attention than the blood already does.
She cautiously makes her way home, but still decides to use her last invisibility spell as she approaches their place of temporal residence, also in case she had missed anybody following her, and makes her way into the her room.
It's about another hour of waiting (with cucumber water on offer and requests made to kindly move boots from the table to the floor) before there is a sign of hide or hair of the lord-mayor. But just as it seems like the patience of the group is about to snap, the doors swing open to reveal a paunchy, foppish man dressed in the finest of modern Chelish fashion. He's all buttons and ribbons and sashes, layers of blue, white, and gold fabric swishing noisily together as he makes his way into the room with the assistance of a jewel-encrusted cane. It's hard to catch on first glance how many chins he has, but one might be able to count them once he eventually sits down if hi high, ruffled collar doesn't obscure them. The crown of his head is completely bald, but a ring of hair crests from the back of his head forward into thick mutton chops that twist into a small, pencil-thin mustache above his upper lip.
As he ambles around the large, wooden conference table, he doesn't bother to look at any of the four adventurers gathered around. But he speaks in the sort of breathless tone of someone above it all, an ugly nasal resonance masked by half-swallowed words. "So what is it, hmmm? Seeking my wisdom? Reporting on the safety of my city? Divulging a juicy conspiracy? What's so damned important that I was pulled away from my dinner plans with the Lady Zimandi Kaddren at the Osprey Club? Pray that she is not vindictive and that our table remains available. Come, come, out with it then."
Karmid just stares open-mouthed at the rude man, who looks like he still has no idea he’s in danger.
“Are you kidding me?!! A monster just knocked over the clocktower in the underbridge district, and was helping the Skinsaw murderers steal the souls of your people! Are you just…”
Turning away, Karmid stops himself before he regrets saying something that gets the group in trouble.
Ro takes the time out of her nap to side-eye Karmid when the boots on the table get mentioned. Karmid is a boots on the table kind of guy. She's had to smack him down (figuratively) before about the habit at the Rusty Dragon.
Ro does eventually rouse herself to stand when the mayor shows up. She approaches him and leans back to take a resting seat on the table.
How can Karmid so regularly ride the overly optimistic and incredibly disappointed and outraged seesaw so hard over and over? It's gotta make his head hurt.
"The juicy conspiracy part, that's the one. Being neighborly types, we figured you'd like to know how you can save your own skin. I mean that literally, your face would make a prize mask to the people sniffing around to murder you I'm sure."
"So I'm sure you know about Ironbriar and his little cult. What you don't know is that Ironbriar was just a stooge for the real leader of the cult. Her name is Xanesha, and she's something considerably more than human. Ironbriar gave us enough on her to track her down to the Underbridge Clock Tower. We couldn't quite corner her in the fight though and she got away. That's what brought down the tower."
"Among the things she left behind was a piece of correspondence from her counterpart. Looks like there's two of them. The letter mentions a competition between them for collecting souls. I don't know if they mean that literally, or they're just separating souls from bodies, but you, Lord Mayor Sir, are the single name that comes up on their special wish list. You should be really worried about that."
"Here's the good news. We know where they are. Now, do you think we're worth a bit of your time?"
Trying to ignore the mayor, Karmid concentrates his thoughts on dusty old tomes, hours of lectures, and endless studying in Sandpoint...Suddenly it occurs to Karmid what the snake-lady was, and bleats it out without thinking.
"Old man Melford! That wandering wily Druid bast...guy of Gozreh! How did he know? The MONSTER. He even showed me a picture once. She was a Lamia! A Matriarch or some such at that too. The snake part threw me off at first. I KNEW she looked familiar. I was worried it was some sort of demon at first..."
Looking suddenly sweaty and exhausted, Karmid spins around and sits back down away from the mayor and shakes his head in relief.
"That was PAINFUL."
"My...s-s-soul?" the lord-mayor stammers, his face going pallid and beads of sweat forming almost instantly. His eyes roll back in his head and with a dramatic sigh he faints to the floor.
Ro hops up onto the table to sit while she waits for the mayor to come around. While she's waiting she takes a look around the room for something nice looking, but small and portable. She might want a souvenir.
"I did tell him the good news too."
Izzy looks down at the bloated, egotistical, and delightfully unconscious mayor. Drily, he adds, "He has a spine of steel like the heroes of old." He shoves the mayor to a semi-sitting position against a chair, explaining, "He may be easier to deal with if we make it appear we were concerned and tried to rouse him."
Looking relieved at first, he suddenly frowns as the mayor loudly slumps to the floor. Sighing heavily, Karmid gets back up and lifts the mayor into the biggest softest chair nearby, and starts to sound like a leader again...instead of the tired and whiny teenager that he his.
"We don't have time for this. Drasven? Anything you can do to rouse this guy without startling him? We need him on our side really."
Ro watches Issengrim and Karmid minster to the mayor with amusement.
"You two are so sweet. Really, it's adorable. Make sure to put a fluffy pillow under his head."
While struggling to keep the rotund mayor upright and in the comfy chair, Karmid attempts to give Ro the 'I don't find your attitude amusing' look that all the priests back in Sandpoint had mastered over many years of teaching and ministering.
Unfortunately, Karmid barely registers any success at copying the look, and suddenly grimaces as the fat man's arm suddenly dangles from Karmid's hand at an awkward angle.
Hearing Ro's amused laughter at the obvious sight, Karmid grumbles aloud.
"You could be helping here!"
Ro cocks an eyebrow in a certain way, and her eyes dart from Karmid to the mayor, then back to Karmid.
It's something Karmid recognizes from classroom or other 'serious' settings to mean "I could say something right now, but the wrong people might hear. It will have to wait until later".
"You two are so sweet. Really, it's adorable. Make sure to put a fluffy pillow under his head."
"His head is easily mistaken for a pillow."
Scanning around (while Karmid and Izzy lift the lord-mayor into a creaking chair), Ro sees a small trophy in the shape of a plump humanoid on one of the shelves in the room, emblazoned with the Lord-Mayor's name in gold relief at the base.
Drasven is able to restore the man to consciousness with some patented dwarven tricks , and the lord-mayor comes to. He reaches for a handkerchief in his breast pocket and dabs at the sweat accumulated on his form. "Oh my," he mutters over and over again. "Well then. I do say, you all have done a great service to my city by warning me of this threat to my life." Sopping up more sweat, the lord-mayor tugs at the ruffles at his collar and looks around at the gathered. "I do not believe that I am in any condition to attend dinner at the Osprey Club this evening. A shame. Lady Kaddren will be quite disappointed. But no matter--I have four heroes here! Yes, indeed, saviors of Magnimar!" In spite of his pallid appearance, he rouses and sits up straighter in the chair. "I would like to invite you four to my estate tomorrow evening for dinner. My secretary will send a carriage to pick you up--just give her the address of whatever hovel you're staying at, and I will be sure that you are rewarded handsomely for your service. Good? Good."
Not liking being dismissed so easily, Karmid steps up closer to the Mayor and lets his entire bulk shadow him from the room's primary light.
"We might not have time for dinner! Turtleback Ferry could be in imminent danger! Fort Rannick may have already fallen to this monster's sister! Have your people heard anything from the fort recently? You should send some sort of warning...just in case it can arrive to them in time to save them! You need to do something...NOW."
Walking forward after being requested to do so, the dwarf examines the Man as if trying to recall something as he flexes his fingers.
Drasven opts for the direct way as he flips the mayor over and applies a decidedly looking painful pinch to the Mayor's nape of his neck.
This jolts him awake and the dwarf lays him back on the chair. Giving the man some time to regain his bearings.
"With your leave, grant us the permission to continue with our investigations." Drasven asks seeking to head off any potential arguments.
Ro was surprised twice by the mayor. She had come in to the conversation pushing hard on the mayor's self-interest in the most direct way. She had her reasons for it. First, there would be a considerable power imbalance in the meeting. She knew the mayor's inclination would be to ride right over them and push them out the door in all haste. She wanted to adjust their respective footings to something closer to parity.
Ro also didn't expect arguments about public safety and welfare to go anywhere. If the mayor did even take them seriously at all, he would promise to form a committee, or bring it to the attention of X or Y, and that would be the end of it as far as he was concerned. So, her opening gambit was designed to tell him in gentler terms that he was going to die real soon, but they already knew how to fix that for him.
Personally, Ro would have been fine with a non-response or deflection from the mayor. She had other things she'd rather be doing anyway. But, Karmid was going bulldog on chasing Xanesha down. If they hadn't already, everyone else was going to bend to his wishes on the subject. She would end up dragged along as well because they would get into trouble, probably get themselves killed, if she wasn't there to steer them away from the most boneheaded stuff.
But, if Ro was going to be a part of this Turtleback Ferry fiasco, she wanted something more substantial than a bit of praise in return. This is why it's important to see the mayor doesn't hand the project off to others. Karmid would have to go anyway, ergo everyone else, ergo Ro. And they would be doing it for free yet again.
So, Ro thought pushing hard on the mayor would lead him to decide his own interest would lie in paying them well to rush off to solve his problem. But, Ro had expected him to be made of sturdier stuff than he is. Him fainting dead away wasn't something she intended. Then, when he comes to, rather than being in a panic he invites them to dinner the next evening.
She imagines the mayor, being the calculating sort, and figuring them for rubes, thinks he can get his milk for free, or a greatly reduced cost, by praising them now, treating them fancy tomorrow, and flattering them the whole way through.
Karmid's outburst is throwing things off kilter even more. If his big scariness doesn't make the mayor's little mouse heart explode, the mayor may sense he can leverage Karmid's devotion to altruism as a bargaining chip in negotiating their compensation. And a request the mayor 'grant permission' for any of this from Drasvin? Desna's tits!
F*@$. The maneuvering I have to do just to keep us from getting screwed.
Ro hops down off the table and tries to do some damage control. She puts her hand on Karmid's shoulder as if to gently restrain him, trying to make him part of the negotiation as the heavy, the bear to her shark.
"Back off Karmid. Give the mayor time to collect his thoughts. He's just had a severe shock."
Turning to the mayor, Ro accepts his offer.
"Dinner tomorrow evening will be fine. Delighted. See you then."
On the way out Ro gives the mayor's secretary the townhouse address.
Karmid closes his eyes at Ro's touch. Then his chin falls and his massive shoulders slump as he follows the other out of the room quietly.
"I'll advise your lordship to take things easy for now. A spot of fine Ale might ease your nerves a bit but do not overindulge. We'll see you for dinner tomorrow and further things can be discussed then in a calmer manner."
Drasven takes the hint and graciously bows to the Mayor as he follows behind, shutting the door as he leaves.
The Lord-Mayor watches as Karmid tries to bully him into submission, but his face seems impassive now, as though his earlier fainting spell was an aberration in a line of otherwise-stalwart circumstances. He arches an eyebrow and dabs more sweat away. He looks like he is about to chide the Shoanti man before Ro steps in and redirects the room's energy. "Wonderful," he concurs with the young composer, nodding at Drasven's recommendation as well. "I promise we'll discuss Fort Rannick and Turtleback Ferry and Xanesha and Ironbriar to your hearts' content on the morrow. Come hungry. My personal chef is the best in the city, if I do say so myself. And I do!"
---
Issengrim remains deathly silent until they are well away from the Lord-Mayor's office. He was uncomfortable being lumped in with the heroes when he'd had no part in saving the city, but it wasn't a point to make in front of the mayor...
"Where and when should I meet you folks? I've got some matters to attend to at the Deadeye Lodge, but then my time is yours."
Grabbing 'Grimme' by the shoulders, Karmid turns him to face himself and finally smiles again.
"Meet us with the mayor at his dinner if nothing else. Otherwise, you can simply find us staying at a Townhouse: I will give you directions. Or if I need you sooner, I'm sure I can find Deadeye Lodge easily enough to come find you!"
He them gives the man a quick brotherly embrace and lets him go as he turns back towards their lodging.
Izzy receives the directions and returns the embrace, "I'll see you soon... because I'll never hear the end of it from Thea if I let you out of my sight." He laughs and heads off to the Deadeye Lodge.
When Ro and the others return to the Townhouse, everything seems dark, but opening the door, they find Flutter sitting on a table. Taking off, he slowly hovers towards the stairs, turning around to see if he is followed, waiting otherwise, but not speaking.
He leads whoever is coming with him to the attic, which is closed, and sits down next to the entrance.
In the attic, a single candle burns. Next to that candle sits Lia, in the bloodied and tattered remains of her dress, blood smeared in her hair, face, and on what seemed to be a bite mark on her arm.
She looks as if she challenged a Bear to a round of fisticuffs - with predictable outcome. In front of her there's needle, thread, a pair of scissors, and 2 now-ruined dresses she must have found in the house.
It takes her a moment to realize the attic is opened, before she turns to the entrance:"I am sorry I got myself attacked. I didn't mean to. I only wanted to clean Sari's place a bit even if she has no one here, now. But that uhm...fiendish Gargoyle did not like that one bit. The moment I thought to myself that I had done decent work for the day, the thing rushed at me from nowhere and tried very hard to make my innards outards.
And I said please don't because it hurts but he did not look like he was going to stop so I ran. And now my dress is ruined. And I'm a mess. And I may have bled on the floor in a few rooms."
Ro frantically rushes to Lia, not really hearing what Lia is saying. Lia often describes things... metaphorically, so Ro's immediate conclusion is that Lia was set upon by thieves of something of the sort.
She goes to her knees and cups Lia's face under her chin with both her hands, looking hard into her eyes to see whether Lia is lucid. There's too much blood on Lia for her to identify her injuries easily.
"Where are you hurt?"
Ro moves her arms down to wrap around Lia's torso, then carefully begins moving Lia out of the chair and onto the floor.
"You need to be lying down. Here, let's get you on the floor and have a look."
"I think most of the hurting is where the blood came from.", Lia responds, not resisting Ro. "Lay down. I think I can do that. Does not sound like it will take much effort."
Allowing Roja to help, she leans back and spreads out on the attic floor.
The tears and slashes acros her abdomen do not look like knife wounds, even to Rojava's untrained eyes - and the teeth marks on the arm definitely not human.
Due to the blood, clothing, and her own squeamishness, Ro can't figure out much of a diagnosis. As far she she knows Lia might be dying. She does the only thing she know will help, placing her hands on Lia and calling up some bright healing energy.
"Ah...I dressed the wounds earlier...but this healing is much better. Thank you very much. But I think you can't heal my wounded dress. And I'm afraid that Gargoyle will make everything a mess again at the Shrine. Karmid can you smash it for me tomorrow? Please?"
Aghast at the blood everywhere, and Ro taking over Lia's health care, Karmid is suddenly blindsided by Lia's request.
"Wha...You want me to...the Gargoyle? Yeah! Of course. We can deal with it tomorrow! Let me get a message to Grimmie and we will all make sure the Shrine is cleaned of fiendish influences!"
With a course of action set, Karmid curses under his breath as he moves to talk to Drasven.
"I'm going to talk to Grimmie! You stay here and make sure Lia will be OK...as OK Lia can be I guess."
When he passes Flutter, he only stares for a moment and shakes his head, even more guilt written clearly on his face.
"She'll be in good hands." Drasven nods to Karmid as he watches Karmid leave and then turns to Ro.
His own spells at the ready to heal her wounds.
"Now Let's see about cleaning you up. Where do you hurt."
It’s an easy walk back to the Deadeye Lodge but Issengrim doesn’t drop his guard. Zoe remains on overwatch. Izzy knows that cities are just another sort of jungle – different predators, same dangers.
At the Lodge, Izzy checks to see if Sister Thea has sent him any messages. After that, he cleans his room and packs his modest amount of gear. He wasn’t sure if he’d be returning tonight but it was best to be prepared. With his gear squared away, he sits down to write a note to Thea, updating her on events and what he could glean of the team’s actions to date.
As Karmid passes, Flutter looks up:"She dressed her wounds. She will be fine. She only needs some rest. I focus...on being calm. Take care."
"I think it mostly hurts where it tried to murder me. Here, and here, and here...", Lia happily shows where she was attacked to Master Drasven.
Then her facial features darken again as she turns to Ro:"I am really sorry I ruined my dress. I was not careless and I did not forget it somewhere. I tried to fix it but I'm no good as a tailor. And I'm swimming in Ieshas clothes. Could I maybe borrow that hat-thing for shopping tomorrow?"
Drasven tsks as he works his own magic.
Using channel as needed to supplement the curative magics he wields.
"Shopping then on the morning to get you some new clothes. Then some Smashing before Dinner with the Mayor. Should give us enough time to wash up and get dressed."
Reuniting after Lia's surprising and deadly solo ordeal, the Godtouched of Sandpoint close ranks and take care of each other. It seems clear that, even after driving out the nest of vipers that was the Brothers of the Seven and their lamia puppetmistress, dangers still lurked throughout Magnimar. Yet their steps seem to be guided beyond this city deeper into the mountains of Varisia. Whether they will answer this call, and when and how, remains to be seen. But for now, there can be rest.
---
Issengrim does find a note from Sister Thea, speaking of correspondence between her and a long-time friend and fellow in faith: Maelin Shreed, the mayor of Turtleback Ferry (and a priest of Erastil). In the letter, she discusses some concerning things that Shreed had shared with her about goings-on in his village. Shreed expressed two chief concerns. First, he was deeply concerned by the popularity of a floating gambling hall--or to be honest, a pleasure barge--dubbed the Paradise that had been operating for the last year on Claybottom Lake. Due to the village's charter and agreement with the thorp of Pendraka (located on the opposite shore of the lake from Turtleback Ferry), any business on the lake was not explicitly subject to the laws and regulations of either town. This agreement had been intended to allow fewer restrictions on (and disagreements over) inter-town fishing, but had--in Shreed's opinion--been viciously exploited to set up a den of vice in his own backyard. Not only had this resulted in spiritual decay among his flock, but it had been economically devastating to several of the town's businesses, drawing customers away (and managing to avoid paying taxes). Shreed had written to Sister Thea asking if she knew of methods to discourage this behavior.
Second, Shreed had also written to a fellow Erastilian priest serving with the Black Arrows of Fort Rannick, Brother Teodor Balache, but had not heard back. This was unusual, as Brother Balache was usually swift to respond. Therefore Shreed was concerned that Brother Balache had fallen ill and been unable to respond. Sister Thea thinks that Issengrim would want to know as well because--even if it was only for a brief time--Brother Balache had helped to train Issengrim many years ago.
It's clear, even though Sister Thea doesn't explicitly say it, that her writing is less gossipy scuttlebutt and more an implication that someone of a like mind (like Issengrim) ought to look into Mayor Shreed's concerns.
Izzy had never believed in coincidence. So Thea’s letter with its mention of the Black Arrows, Turtleback Ferry, and Fort Rannick on the heels of the lamia’s threats to – and an impending meeting with the Lord-Mayor – about those same areas… It smacked of fate not luck.
To his letter to Sister Thea, Izzy adds the details about the lamia, her sister, and the threat they likely pose to Turtleback Ferry and the surrounding area. He ends his letter with:
…I don’t have much faith in the Lord-Mayor’s judgment. Regardless of the results of the meeting with him, my intention is to travel to Turtleback Ferry as soon as practical. Hopefully, I won’t be travelling alone.
Yours in Erastil,
Issengrim
While Drasven begins to work on Lia, Ro brushes back Lia's hair, smoothing it with her hand.
"Nothing to be sorry about sweetie. The clothes don't matter. What matters is you got away and you're alright now. Nobody could have done better than that."
"We'll get you some new things tomorrow, and you can use the hat. You can keep the hat if you want."
With a deft twist, Drasven finishes his work at treating Ro's wounds with the last bandage. Most of her wounds had being treated with curative magics while the rest were mostly superficial and would heal with good bed rest and time.
"We are done here. Perhaps a nice Warm bath to sooth your wounds. Lia can keep you company. I'll go ahead and prepare the hot water first."
Izzy grabs his pack, seals the letter and drops it at a delivery service, then heads over to the Townhouse.
Morning comes to Magnimar, the same as most other mornings, perhaps even other mornings in which vestiges of ancient, long-dead empires have collapsed. (The Shadow Tower can't be the first time, right?)
There is much to do before the scheduled dinner with Lord-Mayor Grobaras. Goods to be sought, services to be rendered, coin to be traded, and--perhaps most importantly for some--a gargoyle to be rooted out of a shrine. Even though none of the Sandpoint Godtouched are devout Sarenites, there's something disconcerting about the Dawnflower's light being permanently enshrouded in darkness deep beneath the Irespan. That one of their own was very nearly eviscerated provides added motivation.
The Shrine is not difficult to find. It's in better shape than when Lia had left it--no longer do detritus and debris litter the floor. But the colorful ankh that Lia had so carefully constructed on the altar has been smashed anew.
A small patch of wild, overgrown hedges lies to the right of the shrine proper, which Lia did not have an opportunity to explore before she was attacked.