When the fortune teller speaks about love lost, there is an even wilder, dangerous flame in Nargun's eyes.
But the dwarf says Nothing, even if you can hear his teeth grinding, and see his muscles bulging.
He simply nods when Atticus makes his suggestion.
It has been a very interesting moment. Soon, I'll have the blood of Gaeldren Lamm on my axe.
Devan smiles fiercely at Nargun's blunt forecast of Lamm's downfall. "Friend, if you are half as fierce as you look, I fear you'll leave no vengeance for the rest of us.
The bard quickly looks over the two women who designated themselves as priestesses, eyeing them critically. One seemed to dress to draw attention (and really, from a Calistrean could one expect differently?), while the other stuck out in the city like a sore thumb. "Perhaps I should be the one to case the place. Maybe ask a few questions of the people around to see who's in there and when they move about.
He doesn't look the type...but you never know... In a more wary, guarded tone, Devan asks Atticus, "What exactly is it you need, friend, that you believe she or I can help you?" He indicates Aleira with a brief jut of his chin.
Mirela addresses Devan
Asking a few questions 'elps, but if you want to watch people come and go, wouldn't you be seen? You need a reason to be there for some 'ours and not look suspicious like.
Lady Zellara said this was an old fishery. That's means it's on the water. If I get a fishing pole and try to catch some fish, I can stand there and look at the place for all day and never draw more then a few snickers. Who would think twice about a farmwife fishing for dinner while her husband sells at the market?
As she leaves, Twilight turns to Zellara
"Thank you again. I think by whatever means you used you have chosen the instruments of your vengeance well."
Outside Twilight listens to Atticus' plan and gives a wry smile. Casually taking a half step back so she is just out of Nargun's sight she says
"So avoid drawing attention to ourselves and quietly gather information?"
Twilight cocks an eyebrow at Atticus and gives a very subtle tilt of her head and quick glance towards the dwarf as Nargun stands there, teeth grinding and muscles straining.
Atticus seems a bit emberassed but then he replies to Devan´s question.
"You remember the second card the Lady turned over? It was a locksmith. Well, you see, I have made a lot improvements to varius labs during my career. It involved a lot of finetuning instruments. It gave me a lot of insight into locks too. But to open locks, well you see, you need special equipment. I do not own them, and well I have no clue where to get items of that kind. But I have a feeling we will need items of that kind sooner or later. The cards have spoken!"
Devan turned to face the red-haired huntress, his mouth reflexively opening to retort before it almost immediately shut as he thought about it. He was so used to being independent, having only himself to rely upon. It would be quicker work if it was divided into more pieces...the woman was right. He smiled in a conciliatory manner at her, "I hadn't meant to be seen as I was watching the place, Mirela, but doing both concurrently gets us to Lamm that much more quickly, I agree."
He had his reservations about the woman looking like a farmwife, but he would just have to trust that she could make it work.
As Atticus replied to the bard's question he turned his attention to the man, not taking offense that the scholar thought Devan or Aleira might know where one could procure such items. Likely because Devan did know where such items could be found.
"Or common sense, at any rate. The thief fears the thief, as the saying goes, and this Lamm is a thief plus some. When the man's name crosses his lips the musician's features darken a shade, but he otherwise keeps his cool...for now.
"If I am to gather the word off the street that task should fall to another. Perhaps even yourself...honest folk make a trade of such things as well, my friend." Devan grins weakly in what he hopes is a friendly way, then provides directions to a nearby shop where such items can be bought.
Aleria glances over at Devan and then turns to Atticus. "Such things shouldn't be too hard to find. I'd be happy to help. I wouldn't be a much use watching the place - I might well be recognised.
"I like your idea Mirela. Do you have another outfit? Your current look strikes me as more woods woman than farmer's wife. I can help you with that if you need."
Twilight turns to the group "We should be careful about spreading out, if something spooks Lamm we may need to move quickly. Perhaps Atticus can purchase what he needs while Devan finds a convenient inn or abandoned building near the fishery where we can all convene and then proceed with our information gathering from there?"
Twilight smiles at Atticus
"If you are concerned about keeping a respectful distance from such things, Aleira or Nargun could make that purchase on your behalf."
Listening to Twilights words Atticus thinks for a few moments.
"Your reasoning is almost sound. Well to answer your question about my intentions, it is not that I am afraid to go to these places, I simply do not know them. The idea of Devan finding a place to wait till we move close to the fishery is very good, but we won´t know the adress. How about we meet at the yellow juggler in the old quarters, let us say 4 hours.
You will help in this time Mirela to find proper attire, Aleira can aid me with my picks and Devan and Nargun will find a fitting place to wait till the night and food and drinks. Though I would strongly advocate against alcohol.
If you need funds here is one gold piece."
He ponders for another second. "Is this reasonable? Does anyone have a better idea?"
I'm. Fine with that idea.
Before the group breaks up Mirela confesses to Twilight.
Yes of course I 'ave a change of clothing. I'll get back in my work wool skirt and blouse then go fishing. So if you want to keep an eye on the musician to make sure he doesn't go into the cups you can. But you do be welcome to come with me to pick up a hook some line and bait if that sounds more fun.
Once the plan is worked out Mirela heads back to the Sailors Delight to change. Along the way she stops to pick up a fish hook, some twine, and a stick (quarterstaff), when she gets back, she quickly drops her stuff off in her room (Including all her coins but 5 SP) and locks it in her chest. Then she ties on pole together grabs some dried meat for bait and heads down to the warf to go fishing.
If possible she wants to set up just down the river from the place, but some place that has clear views of the hideout. Then she starts to fish for the next few hours. She is obviously trying to keep track of the comings and goings while she fishes.
Devan breathed out a sigh of relief at Twilight's brief discussion with Mirela and the Erastilan's response. Of more interest to him, however, was the already-forming group dynamic. Being an entertainer, he was somewhat skilled at reading people and their interactions.
The Calistrian was already looking to the scholar for wisdom and direction. A well-paying client, perhaps? The dwarf was too consumed by rage and anger to offer more than promises of Lamm's blood on his axe. The scarred woman seemed easy-going and relaxed, willing to be helpful when asked. The redhead was quick to offer pushback, but didn't seem unreasonable.
As Atticus went over and tweaked Twilight's plan, Devan stood there, head cocked slightly to one side as he listened. A faint smirk crops up as the scholar starts to give direction. He had heard the Calistrian call him Professor back in the house, and he certainly seemed to have an easy time giving instruction.
Find another babysitter for the dwarf, friend.
"As I said, while Mirela scouts the entrances to the building, I shall ask about the place around town. If there is activity in the building surely someone knows about it. I will find those someones. Meeting at the Yellow Juggler seems like a good idea...it will save us the resources of having to find a place to meet later.
The musician readjusts his gear, offering a wave to everyone as he goes to blend in.
"Best of luck to you all!"
------------------------------------------------------------
As Devan wandered the streets, he turned his mind inward, towards all the gossip and tidbits he has heard over the last several months about the section of town the fishery is in.
With a friendly smile and a soothing voice (if looking a bit worse for the wear with his sunken eyes and unwashed hair) he goes about, asking a diverse group of people about the place with well-practiced flattery, conversation, etc. Whatever those people needed to hear to know that Devan was their friend and they could tell him anything.
Twilight gives a little laugh
"I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention to cast doubt on your bravery, I thought you were concerned about your reputation, being seen or associated with such a place. Please accept my apologies."
"I'll go on ahead and rent us a room at the Yellow Juggler so that we have a private place to talk. If Nargun would like to join me I will leave the room key with him, otherwise I'll leave a yellow thread on the handle and the door unlocked if anyone wants to use the room and I am not around. I will see you in four hours."
Twilight heads to the Yellow Juggler and rents a room for the evening. She then changes into some peasant clothing and adjusts her appearance to look as a common folk. Afterwards she heads to the docks. Staying a comfortable distance away from Westpier 17, she looks for a suitable inn or abandoned building to serve as a convenient hideout as well as asking around if anyone has a rowboat for rent or sale.
Atticus and Aleira
Leaving the rest of the group, with the plan to meet at the Yellow Juggler in a few hours, Aleira leads Atticus to an establishment a few blocks from Zellara's home, still in the warehouse-filled neighborhood of West Dock. This place she leads the investigator to certainly looks like it has seen better days. The roof seems to sag in places, and the bars on the doors and windows are rusted. A poorly painted and lettered sign above the main door says this place is called Bailer's Retreat.
Aleira knows this rough tavern is a favorite haunt of recently released prisoners from nearby Citadel Volshyenek's jails. That fortress, the headquarters of the Korvosan Guard, is not far from here, just south along the Jeggare River. The proximity of the Guard is a blessing at times as this place, given the rough-and-tumble crowd, sees more than its fair share of brawls and other worse public disturbances.
As you enter, a loud argument seems to be ongoing between an apron covered man behind the bar, and a patron with long, stringy hair and an eye patch on one eye.
"Yeah, I don't care wha' youse sez, them Shoanti bastards are 'ere to kill us in our sleep. They ain't got peace on their min's, jus' more killin' civilized folks like us'n." shouts One-Eye spraying spittle across the bar, and slapping his hand loudly on the oak bartop.
"Har!" laughs the barrel-chested bartender, good naturedly. "Civilized is the last thing I'd call you Bert Bartelby. If yer so civilized, maybe you should stroll on up to Castle Korvosa for tea with Queen Ileosa herself. I hear she's a bit lonely what with the King so ill and all. I'm sure she could use some comfortin'"
"Don' git me started 'bout tha' jumped-up whore of a Queen," Bert, the one-eyed man shouts back. "I'll give 'er alot more'n tea if'n I git up t'the Castle. But I'm talkin' 'bout t' S'anti braves, ya 'ear? T' bloody Guard jus' let a dozen of 'em in t'main gate wifout a ne'er min'. I gets locked up fer crossin' t'street an' them uglies git t'red carpet rolled out fer 'em. It ain't right. There 'ere t'kill us all, mark me words!"
As the plywood clatters shut behind Atticus, the conversation stops and the half-dozen drinkers and the bartender all look up, sizing up the scarred girl and the citizen that is with her.
"Help you" asks the ham-fisted bartender with a cocked eyebrow.
Mirela
The priestess of Erastil hustles back to her small room, and changes clothes, leaving her battle gear behind and picking up a few fishing items along the way. She nabs a fishhook and some twine from one of her aunties rooms and makes her way back to the waterfront along the Jeggare River. She finds the area around Westpier 17 without too much trouble. A collapsing warehouse stands on one side of the building, much too close to allow her to pretend to fish. The north side, however has a little more space, and a wooden jetty that extends out a bit into the river. Taking up a fishing spot there, Mirela is able to scope out the place while trying to remain unnoticed.
The building at Westpier 17 makes ramshackle sound appealing. As she passed from the other side of the street, Mirela could see that once a sign hung from the front of the building, but it has since fallen leaving only a dangle of iron chain hanging above the front doors, which are on the western side facing the street.
The fishery is built on the bank of the river, and juts out over the water supported from underneath by salt-crusted wooden pilings that rise up from out of the water. Wooden planking makes seeing what is under the structure impossible from the cleric's vantage point. On the south side, a boardwalk slopes down to the waterline behind the building, past an exterior door, where something that probably used to be a ship is moored. That ship's hull is completely covered in barnacles and is extremely weather-beaten and worn. It looks suspiciously unseaworthy even from a distance.
From her vantage point on the building's north side, Mirela can see a loading dock with steps that also lead to a door near the waterline. A pair of double doors might provide entry into the decrepit building from the loading dock.
All windows of the place are boarded up. Besides the languid exterior, Mirela sees no people nor any sign of activity as she begins her stakeout. She does notice one prominent thing, however-- the smell. The putrid smell of rancid fish and brine permeates the air near the place. It's enough to make Mirela retch a bit as stands downwind.
After a few hours, as the sun starts to get low, the former Lamb sees her first sign of activity. A cargo wagon, led by a pair of mules, pulls into the loading dock. Not long after, the double doors open, and the man, and a group of halflings begin loading wooden casks aboard the wagon. After several are loaded, the halflings all go back inside, the doors are shut again, and the driver leads his team off the dock and back up the street, disappearing from Mirela's view to the south.
Mirela sees no one else enter or leave the place during her vigil, that lasts until the appointed hour for the rendezvous at the Yellow Juggler.
Nargun and Twilight
This unlikely pair heads back up the slope from the riverside to the more respectable neighborhoods of The Heights, which stands in the shadow of the ebon-walled Castle Korvosa.
There stands the inn named The Yellow Juggler, a favorite of Calistrians and those who might wish for their ministrations. Twilight negotiates for a private dining room and supper fare for her group of 6 with the kitchen supervisor, who agrees for half-price due to her recent indoctrination into the priestess-hood of the Savored Sting.
Leaving Nargun in the common room, Twilight scurries off for a few errands of her own. She changes into less flamboyant attire, and makes her way back to the docks, looking for a place near to, but not right upon, the fishery at Westpier 17. She finds plenty of likely places along the road right behind the riverfront. Some of these are warehouses or shops which cater to the trade of sailors or fishermen that ply the waters of the Jeggare or Conqueror's Bay beyond. A few seem abandoned, and one, about a block from the fishery, has a door ajar, hanging by the upper hinges only. It appears the door could easily be repaired. Inside, Twilight sees some broken furniture, and long-abandoned signs of a homeless camp. The place is covered in dust and cobwebs, but could suffice as a base-camp for forays into the fishery as needed.
Moving on, the former student of the Acadamae walks along the waterfront looking for a boat for hire. She spies a couple of young men, hardly more than boys, mooring a small craft to a jetty some distance from the target. The boys have a heavy bucket in hand, that seems to be filled with the local catch and when they catch sight of Twilight, even in her peasant garb, they both stop and stare for a second...
Holding down the fort at The Yellow Juggler, Nargun orders a flagon of ale and waits the fire of revenge burning a little more slowly now in his head. He listens to the conversations running through the common room as he waits. Much of the discussion is about the goings-on at the Castle not far from here. One man says the King is ill, some agree while others scoff at him. One ventures that the king is an old lech who deserves what he gets from bedding young girls.
The general theme is that the while everyone loves the old King Eodred II, they have no care at all for his young queen, who is by turns a sorceress, a prostitute, or a traitor who will turn the city back to her homeland of Cheliax.
One man goes so far as to say the Queen has poisoned the king so she can grab power for herself. He also says conspiratorially, that she has tried to have the Seneschal of the Castle murdered because he found out about the poison. This man is roundly scorned for being a conspiracy theorist and a rabble-rouser.
Nargun notices one man does not participate in the banter, but spends his time getting very drunk. The man's face is a mask of sadness and sorrow as he drinks himself into oblivion.
Devan
Knowing his way around the city, Devan knows the approximate location of Westpier 17. The area around that location, known as West Dock, is a mostly industrial neighborhood that is somewhat suspect. The waterfront is the usual den of sailors, fishermen, and others, and can be busy by day, but at night caters to the worst of that lot. Pickpockets, confidence men, working girls and press gangs all prowl the streets of West Dock looking for victims among the hard-working lower class of the city.
Thinking back, Devan seems to remember a story about a fishery on West Dock where the owner got himself killed when a devilfish attacked his boat. Under Korvosan law, a building abandoned in that manner immediately reverts to City ownership and is held in escrow for 2 years, during which anyone who can prove a rightful claim can take ownership. If no one steps forward, the city claims the building, but even then, the wheels of bureaucracy turn slowly, it can be years longer before any action is taken.
Further, between curses about taxes raised to pay for the Queen's new wardrobe, and grumbles about the monsters living in the sewers, a local fisherman says that he drops his unsellable catch at that place for a few coppers. A fishmonger confirms that story, saying the fishery takes all the rotting and putrid fish and grinds them up for fertilizer or the like. One foppish rake says the foul mix is made into "dock-dumplings" a local favorite foodstuff among the poor and destitute of West Dock or other unfortunate neighborhoods.
While some have heard of Gaedren Lamm, none can (or will) confirm his location at Westpier 17. They warn you to stay away from that mean old killer and suggest that even asking around about him might lead you to a bad end.
Atticus stays still and lets Aleira do the talking, feeling that she is more at home here. He keeps his hand firm on his cane and smiles encouragingly. This man should really work on his grammar. It shows a chaotic thinking and lack of intellect or self-respect. Correction, it could show those character traits, or a keen intellect trying to blend in. A fascinating idea. This man could be worth watching.
Devan scowled as he strode through the streets near West Dock, trying to weave the little he had learned into something useful. The fact that the building was supposed to be abandoned was hardly a surprise, and the rest was tantalizing but vague. When a local fishmonger talks of delivering his waste to the building, the bard pounces.
"And who takes delivery of your leavings, friend? This silver shield is in search of a new home..." The bard's eyes are manic, though his tone is friendly enough as he plucks out a silver coin and palms it, showing it to his possible font of information. The young man knew better than to wave it about in this neighborhood.
As the musician walked back towards the designated meeting place, he thought back to what someone had said about Lamm. They had called him a mean old killer, confirming that it definitely could have been he himself who plunged the blade into poor Joline's breast. Recent events washed over him as his steps slowed. A ring given in love...her running away from him with a radiant expression...the guards at his door...the pool of blood.
The bard noticed his lute in his hands as he came back to the present, his fingers having slid over the strings with subconscious familiarity as he reminisced. Smiling sadly, he continues the subdued strumming until he arrives at his destination. Soon, he would avenge his love. Then...he'd worry about that later.
Mirela finishes her observations and then packs up what she caught and heads back into the city. She heads back to her room, stopping only to dump off her catch in a bucket of water in the kitchen for Aunt Ester to salt later.
Then she heads upstairs and changes back into her combat gear and slips out the back door just as the first clients begin to arrive through the front door. She smiles as she heads to the Yellow Juggler.
At least business is still good, what would they do if clients stopped coming?
She quickly reaches the inn and walks in, ignoring the odd looks from the other patrons and simply moves to join the dwarf and the musician at the table. As she sits she flags the barmaid down.
Cup of watered wine if I may ma'am
Then she turns to the others.
I be guessing we waiting for the others to talk?
"'ello lads. Fine afternoon to you. I've been look'n to rent a boat for the evn'n and saw that you're finishin' up for the day. Would you be interested in mak'n a few extra coin for the use of your boat?"
If they are interested, Twilight will negotiate a price. She wasn't planning on renting the boat yet, but she has changed her mind. It will be good to have the option, even if it never gets used.
She then returns to the Yellow Juggler.
As Twilight enters she casually talks to one of the barmaids
"Hi Melissa, a glass of the house white please and if Maurice has any of his poached fish on I'll have a serving of that as well. Thanks."
She closes the door to the private dining room behind her and takes a seat at the table.
"Well, I've found a suitably abandoned place about a block away from the fishery if we need it and have also procured a small boat for the evening if we decide to approach from the water. Have either of you found out anything about Lamm's little fortress?"
Twilight
The youths are a bit reluctant to let out their boat, but when Twilight promises to pay the full price if it is damaged or lost, they eventually consent. The night's price is negotiated at 1 silver sail and an additional sail if you want one of the boys to row for you.
Twilight thanked the boys for the use of boat, but politely declined their offer of having one of them row. They might balk when told where they were going and regardless it was something that they didn't need to get caught up in.
The bard nods appreciatively as he is shown to the private dining room, finding that Nargun is already there. Devan twists his body before he enters, catching the eye of a server and holding two fingers up. He really didn't care what they brought. He closed the door behind him, clapping the dwarf on the shoulder. "Thanks for holding down the fort, Nargun. Share a drink with me?"
Not long afterwards, the Erastilan showed up, asking for watered wine. She knew what she wanted, but had restraint as well. As she spoke he enjoyed the raw earthiness of the tone, the contrast amusing him. With a bit of touching up she could perhaps be working in this very building, but seemed completely oblivious to that fact.
"I doubt we'll want to repeat it three more times, so that seems wise. While we wait, though, what business does a follower of Erastil have with this Lamm?"
As Twilight entered the musician offered a friendly smile and a raise of his glass. "Wonderful accommodations! Nargun here knows how to lay down the red carpet, does he not?" The bard eyed their dwarves companion with a smirk.
"That's wonderful news, Twilight. I think Mirela and I had decided to go ahead and wait until everyone arrived before we shared info, that way we wouldn't have to repeat it. It's been the allotted amount of time...I'm sure that scholar will be prompt."
Atticus nods to the man who addressed them and nods.
"Well, I hope you can. I am on a mission of vengenace. Someone hurt my life and I want to make him pay. I am sure there is a silver a dozen with a story like mine. So I will not bore you with it. The man took something from me I treasure and I could imagine it is behind lock and bars.
I seek some special kind of tools, tools you do not buy in a tregular smithy. My friend here, thought you could prcur.. Well my cousin forgot his leather case of tools somewhere in a night of merriment, and I think he forgot to pay his bills and left them as deposit. I am here... to pay the deposit and return his case back to him. You will of sure remember the case, well used, but still quite serviceable!"
Aleira interrupts Atticus before says too much and makes her way to the bar where she leans forward to speak to the bartender. Cat hops down from her shoulder and sits, staring at the barkeep with a somewhat disturbing, focussed stare. "I'm looking for Orrin if he's about? Me and my friend here are looking to do some business with him."
The fishmonger looks around worriedly and weighs the risk of not answering this desperate character versus the potential harm that comes from talking about Lamm's business. Finally, he gives in to the immediate pressure.
"Some dressed up dandy made all the arrangements. We drops the crates o' leavings on the loading dock o' the old fishery. Then e'ery once an' again, a wee scurvy rugrat shows up wif a purse o' coins in recompense. Can't recall the fella's name, Gargin or Yargrin or somefin. He's a right unfriendly chap, recall that, indeed." with a sigh, the man goes about his business selling a fat mackerel to a local housewife.
Atticus and Aleira
As the barkeep's eye turns on them, Atticus begins rattling off some nonsense story, but Aleria quickly cuts him off taking charge. Sure of her self she asks for Orrin, and the barman motions towards the far corner of the common room with a tilt of his head.
In the corner booth there, a halfling fellow sits, nursing a pint. "Heard you shouting about tools of the trade up there, mister. Not really the way we do things here, I gotta tell you. Discretion, my friend. It's just good business."
The halfling's eyes flick to Aleira, and he continues. "I might've seen you around before. Hard to miss that face..." He considers for a moment before shrugging his slight shoulders. "No matter. I might have what you need. Leave the gold here, and I'll have Diego there slip you the goods. But, there's a catch..."
He smiles slyly, a glint of charm in his lucid brown eyes. "I'll do this trade for you, but you'll owe me one. A favor. It may never happen, but at some point, me or one of my associates might call upon you for a service. You follow? You'll recognize my associates by this mark." He slides his sleeve up a bit, and you see a coin-sized blue dot tattooed on his forearm, near the elbow. "Refuse us when we call on you, and well, it might not go well for you." He nods indicating its time to pony up the money.
Assuming you pay the 30gp for tools, a small leather case is delivered to you at the bar by the barkeep along with some foul-smelling brew.
At Devan's question Mirela looks thoughtful...
Do I tell 'im? I suppose it won't 'urt
After a moment she seems to make up her mind.
I used to work for 'im. See me Mum and me Aunts, they 'ad some problems with cash when I was a wee un'. So we's not be gettin' more then un' meal a day. Being little, and 'cause I couldn't be home when clients were over, I fell in with some rough and tumble tikes. They led me to Lamm who fed me for a little work. Mostly begging and distracting while the big un's nipped their purse. It worked out for a while until I started to not come back with a full purse. That's when the 'urtin started.
Un' morning when I came back with two shiners, me Aunts got real worried like. When they seen the other bruises, they contacted un' of their clients. He took me away that day and led me out of The City for the first time in me life. He ended up puttin' me in a 'ome with some priests. The brothers ended up raising me for a long time.
That was almost a dozen years ago now. When they gots me I was a mess. I thought, it was my fault I was beaten, and was later told I had night terrors for weeks about 'im finding me.
For years 'e was the face of the devil chasing me when I gots scared....
She turns pensive for a bit and trails off, staring at the light red liquid in her glass.
Atticus agrees and pays for the item.
We will see. Well now I have what I came for!
The bard sits there, nodding encouragingly at the priestess during any brief pauses. He was more into music than social gab, but the woman seemed to want to get it out. When she finished the musician took a sip of his drink, enjoying the gentle burning sensation, before responding.
"And now you seek to banish him from your dreams forever and prove that he is no devil, just an evil old man deserving of no such lofty position in your mind and memories. When he meets his just rewards I shall write a song of it." He smiles gently, raising his glass up in a roast before downing the rest of it.
Aleira glances over at Atticus receiving his acquiescence to the deal and then nods in agreement to the halfling. As they leave the tavern with their newly acquired possessions she turns to the investigator. "You'd best honour that deal." she says He's not one you want to cross and I don't want him coming for me..."
Nodding to Aleira, but then turning to her Atticus replies."Aleira, you did help me, and I highly appreciate the help. I am not only in his debt, but also in yours. I do not know who he is, and what he will ask from me, but a debt is a debt. But the debt has to be in conjunction to the help done. This is a small debt. I will gladly repay and do him a small or a medium favor. And that is for the future. Maybe we will die tonight. I will worry about the debt tomorrow! What we plan tonight will need all our focus."
With that the investigator proudly moves purposfully toward the yellow juggler.
She looks up at Devan from her mostly full wine cup.
No I wanted to pay 'im back. Plus if 'e 'as any other tikes left in 'is crew, they will need 'elp too. No young un' should 'ave to live with those dreams.
"Ahhhh, so revenge, then. You think the man still uses children for his more petty scams?" The bard's tone is neutral, though from the slight wince as he says the word 'children' one can tell he finds such a practice distasteful.
Devan starts to call out for another drink, then thinks better of it. The appointed time had arrived, and he would do a disservice to himself and his companions if he was at any less than his best. Still, he gave his empty glass a sullen, wistful look. I promise we'll see each other soon.
Soon after, as the scholar and scarred woman make their entrance, the musician sighs in relief. He wasn't a very patient sort, even with company to keep his mind occupied. He gives his glass a playful tap as he speaks, "We've grown thirsty waiting on you, friends. I trust you found your items of interest?"
Now all have arrived at the private room arranged by Twilight at the Yellow Juggler. The libations are well made and the service is perfect, timely without being intrusive, as if the staff was used to secret discussions.
Dinner is a spiced rack of lamb, split into portions served with roast potatoes and onions. A bit of greens is added as a side dish, and steaming fresh bread and glorious portions of churned butter top off the fare. The meal is fine, but everyone is a bit distracted by the looming issue - how to deal with Lamm.
During dinner, everyone shares the stories of what they saw and heard in the time since you left Zellara's Some tell the tales of their insult by Lamm, while others keep their private pain to themselves.
By the time dinner is cleared away, there is little left to discuss except what the next step is.
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After the meal is complete, Twilight stands with a glass of wine in her hand and addresses the group.
"I would like to propose a toast, to the end of Gaedren Lamm. May he pay for the pain he has brought to each of our lives and those of others."
Twilight takes a sip from her glass and continues.
"I have a favour to ask, one that might be difficult, but please hear me out.
When Lamm took away the most important person to me so long ago, I was lost. The constabulary had let me down, my own family turned their backs on me and my future lay in ruin. Although I never knew my elven father and my human parents never expressed any interest in teaching me about my elven heritage I still learned much on my own, and one of the things that I remembered during my time of crisis was the elven reverence of Callistria, and so I turned to the church.
They saw something special in me and took up my cause in exchange for services to the Savoured Sting. During that time I was focused on the one moment when I would have my revenge against Lamm. The church took my raw passion and refined it, taught me how to use that burning need to my advantage and showed me the many ways and forms that I could enhance the satisfaction of the moment by drawing it out and seeing the subject of my ire not merely killed, but ruined and broken. Suffering through the same if not greater pain that I had endured.
Just a few short days ago the priestess knew I was ready and I took my vows. On that day they finally provided me with the clue that would set me on my path. I knew they had waited until they were confident that I could make the most of this opportunity, and I had such plans for the man who had taken so much from me.
Then something unexpected happened. I met all of you and I realized that this moment wasn't just mine, it was all of ours. Though I might not have the grand personal revenge I had spent so long crafting, I had something greater. I had the opportunity to share this with five others, all equally deserving of this satisfaction and I can't think of a more fitting tribute to the Savoured Sting.
But I still have one request. There remains a few things I would dearly like to explain to Lamm before we unmake him. If the opportunity presents itself, I would be eternally grateful if we could take the man alive. I swear to you that should we capture him tonight he will not live to see the sunrise, and I also promise you that the few extra moments he is afforded will not be a blessing for the man.
I will not take this moment away from any of you. You will have the opportunity to bathe axe and blade in this man's blood as well as take whatever satisfaction you desire before he is gone. I simply ask this one thing if it is within our means."
Twilight smiles at the group and takes her seat.
"With that said, let us devise our plan to confront this man."
I ain't much for perdy talk, like Twilight there, but I can plan a 'unt. I did some watching of the target buildin'.
The place is fallin' down and stinks like a cesspit. There are people in there, I saw one cart pull up and some 'alflings, or as Devan suggested little un's, that loaded up a wagon. Nobody else went in or out all afternoon.
The bad thing is there are doors on three sides of the building as well as an old ship on the east side. So if we go in loud like they may all run out the side we ain't watching. All the windows do be boarded up, and I do be an OK stalker at best, so I didn't try to see inside.
The boat on the East side, I don't be thinking it could actually leave the dock. But I ain't a sailor, so maybe it can. Also there might be something under the place, because the whole building is built on a warf over the river.
My idea is we try to be quiet and sneak in. I can stay back and cover the approach along with anyone who ain't good at being quiet. This should at least give us more information about what is in the fishery.
If the sneaky group gets discovered, yell and the rest of us noisy bunch can charge in.
"We could take the boat and quietly ferry everyone to the dock, it might be easier than trying to approach from the front. Do you suppose that there might be a way in from underneath? Some kind of trap door that they might have used to get rid of the waste when cleaning the fish? We might try to position the boat underneath the building and have a look."
After the Calistrian completes her toast, Devan stands, raising his glass into the air solemnly before sipping at it pensively as Twilight continued. During her short, passionate plea to the rest of the group, asking not for quarter for their former tormentor but for a short, torturous delay in Lamm's death, the bard nodded fiercely, his jaw clenched, his dark brow furrowed deeply.
The young man reflected briefly on Twilight's perspective of their entwined fate, of the divine coincidence of these few who had been wronged by Lamm being drawn together. Some whose wounds were oh so fresh, such as his, some that had had time to fester and scab over.
"I know little of Calistria, and I know that Lamm's ultimate undoing will not fill this gaping hole I have inside of me. But if the Savoured Sting desires a slow, painful end to this man, then she and I are aligned this night."
Devan then listens to the two priestesses, dark eyes flicking back and forth between them, his right hand resting on the polished spruce of his family heirloom.
"When talking to a fisherman who is among those who make deliveries to the facility, he says that a sour-looking dandy named Bargin or Yargrin makes the arrangements for the fishy waste. We could perhaps disguise ourselves as a deliverer of this disgusting slop?" He raises his eyebrows questioningly to the others before continuing.
"I'm pretty light on my feet, as well, so if we decide to sneak, I am not against that, either.
"If there's a wind there should be waves, right? If there are waves, it would cover the sound of a boat. It probably depends on how attentive those inside are." At this he looks questioningly at Aleira and Mirela, the two who have been in Lamm's service before.
Atticus toasts with the others and after Twilight has said her words he replies."Well, I am more concerned about the lambs, and my personal stake is lower than yours, so I will abstain.
I think though the watery approach is not my favorite. You see, I can´t swim if we encounter anything that topples the boat. But I see the logic of that approach and I will follow it."
"That does bring up a potential complication. How are the children likely to react to our presence? Would they be compelled to help defend Lamm? I would really like to avoid facing kids."
Mirela looks worriedly at Twilight:
That's a very good point. We need to avoid 'arming the little un's unless they attack us. Can anyone thing of a way to restrain them so that they stay out of the fight?
Atticus looks at Aleira, raising an eyebrow."Would you have defended this Lamm, or tried to find something pointy to stab him?"
"Mirela, Aleira, from your time with Lamm was he likely to send out all the 'Lambs' to gather up the food for expediency's sake, or was he likely to only send out some?" The bard's expression was thoughtful as he looked slightly down in concentration.
"We could pretend to be some of these fisherfolk, and when we make delivery I could try to talk reason into them as they help me unload the cargo. Could there be enough trust left in their little hearts to follow a stranger if they offered a way out?"
He turned to Atticus at this point. "Would this young student of yours perhaps be the tipping point if you were the 'other' fisherman? He could stoke the others' courage by coming to you."
Aleira shakes her head. "We probably don't have to worry too much about the children. Lamm wasn't much for giving us a place to sleep. We usually just had to find somewhere out of the cold by ourselves. The old bastard is too lazy to set decent guards or anything like that."
At Atticus' question she frowns. "I'd probably have just hidden myself away somewhere to be honest. If someone attacked Lamm's place it'd most likely be another gang or something. Certainly wouldn't have done anything to help him. If there are any Little Lamms about I think they'd probably do the same. They might help us if we convince them we're not there to hurt them but we'd have to be pretty convincing - most of 'em haven't had a lot of kindness from pretty much anyone for their whole lives."
Twilight clasps her hands together and rests them on the table. "Well, it seems like we have three options then.
There is the boat. However, Atticus does bring up a good point. I don't know how to swim either. I had not considered the possibility that something would happen to the boat, so while this would be the quickest and quietest way to get everyone to the building and may give us an alternate way in if there is some sort of hatch or portal underneath the building, it is also the most dangerous should something go wrong.
We could let the stealthier among us scout the building up close. This might allow us to make a more informed decision on the spot.
Or we could disguise ourselves as fishermen dropping off old fish for a few extra coins. This would get us up close with the rest of us hiding in the back of the cart and has the advantage of having them open the door for us. We would need to decide if we would then try to talk to the kids or simply rush the building using the element of surprise to carry us through. We would need to get a cart and maybe even some fish for this plan.
I like the disguise idea. I am skilled at crafting disguises if needed and although I suggested the boat, since Atticus brought it up I have to confess that I am somewhat concerned about the chance that for some reason I am knocked into the water."
Nargun channels his inner Fezzik and growls "I only dog paddle," before slurping down another flagon of the Juggler's fine ale. "I say we take them as Torag intended. I'll just go beat on the door and let my axe sort it out."
If pressed, the dwarf would prefer a direct approach rather than a boat or a disguise, after all there are only so many ways to dress up a dwarf...