Eventually each member of the party makes their way back to the Bronze House to touch base and exchange information gleaned from the day’s efforts. It’s business done for the day, the trading house is empty and silent, save a handful of caretakers cleaning up for tomorrow’s visitors. It’s late afternoon when Kalam and Daeron arrive but there’s still no sign from Yolanda.
Interrupting the group’s meeting is a waifish male teifling. ”Excuse me sirs. I was bid to bring you a message. It seems a large number of the Order of Tear’s members were seen entering the Alabaster District, an area far outside their usual haunts and where the Lady Yll has spent the day gathering information. She may need your assistance.”
Kalam looks at the teifling curiously, "Indeed? And what can you tell me of this Order of Tears?"
Kalam considers what he personally knows about the order at the same time :
Once a sentence with the Order is complete, any and all reference to the crime for which you were sentenced is expunged. The only remaining record of the offence is kept in a singularly massive tome guarded by the Order of Forgotten Sorrows. Failure to complete a sentence or poor behavior during one's sentence, will almost certainly result in severe legal backlash, as such a failing is never removed from the offenders permanent record, and serves as a serious aggravator for all future offences.
Members of this order are called "Tears", and are referred to by inmate number at all times.
Upon being sentenced to the Order, all official connections to one's family, work, and social circles are severed (though some contact through letters is permitted for good behavior). Members serve out their term by performing various duties depending on the nature of their offence. All activities are supervised by an attendant "Sorrow". Upon completion of their sentence, the member is restored to society as if they had gone on a journey, leave of absence, or vacation.
Any member of the Order of Tears who finds his place among the Order of Tears and wishes not to leave, or any citizen who qualifies, may be inducted into the Order of Forgotten Sorrows as long as they pass extensive reviews.
He frowns, fairly sure he recalls more than the messenger could offer, "Never mind that, do you know where the other members of my group are? Would they be on the way to the Alabaster district?"
He gives Daeron a lopsided grin, "Condemned prisoners and mercy fanatics, sure you can't join us? No, well then I'll leave you to it."
He turns back to the teifling, awaiting an answer.
Kalam smirks at Abramov and Halsanna next, "Well then, should those of us who actually take our membership seriously be off to back up our damsel of distress?"
He adjusts the guard's uniform he still wears, brushing dust from the bright coat, "I think I'll keep this, as I understand it the Tears are most likely under contract from the guard...I daresay I just might outrank them."
Their journey took them back to the HQ. There, they caught up with Kalam and his findings. Here, they found themselves chasing the Lady Yll who unknowingly had picked up the chains of fate and dragged danger ever closer to herself with every step she took.
"Apparently the Tears know something we do not and Lady Yll is about to flip over that page. Let's go and talk through the details while we're on the move?"
If Kalam and Halsanna agree, he'll fill Kalam in on their findings on the murdered family. That is, what little new information they did manage to uncover. "I swear, my gut instinct tells me there's an otherworldly power involved in all of this!]" comes out of Abramov's mouth more than once. Is someone perhaps being a little paranoid?
Kalam nods and adjusting his uniform one last time, heads out with the other two.
As they walk he listens intently and then fills them in on what he and Daeron found at the guards house. As they move down a less crowded street he shows them the mask Daeron lifted from the evidence collection, "Angry looking thing isn't it? I'd wager you're right about the other worldly influence doc. From what we can tell there's more than one killer...probably some damn cult devoted to the ugly bastard on the masks. At least one of them is overly fond of sharp knives..."
He gives Abramov a suspicious look, slightly ruined by his smirk "Don't suppose you have anything you'd like to tell us, would you Doctor?"
Kalam's words cause a tide of red to creep over Abramov's cheeks. The audacity!... With eyes the size of melons he stares at Kalam for a moment. The doctor inhales audibly, but words fail him. A deep sigh and the shaking of his head, as Abramov proceeds to move on, is all he gets.
Kalam chuckles deeply as the doctor blusters, "I'll take that as a "no" then."
He slips the flask from his belt and takes a long pull as they continue on their way.
Coming up the polished and pristine streets of Magnimar's Alabaster district gives the subtle impression of safety. The area was so clean. What could possibly go wrong?
As the party turns the corner into the street where the Nereid's Kiss resides, screams of terror fill the night. From the Kiss's front doors, men in bloodied scholars robes flee in panic.
Sure enough, the interior of the Kiss is in chaos. The furniture and floor of this otherwise fine establishment is splattered and streaked with blood. The cause of the violence is immediately clear - four brawny demonic hyenas. They snarl viciously in between lunging at the building's occupants.
Lady Yolanda is easy enough to notice. She appears to be fending off one of the beasts while her 'porter' slings a man over his bony shoulder.
Also in the Kiss are six men and women wearing nearly featureless masks - members of Magnimar's Order of Tears.
Kalam maintains his affect for at least a dozen or so blocks, casually trying to look for anyone attempting to follow their progress.
Abramov seems quite agitated. His breathing is more like a barely constrained groan. Eventually he comes clean, and with more self control than one might expect from him giving his recent behavior. "I felt like dragging that elf woman along the razor's edge."
Kalam studies the good doc as they walk, "I think it very nearly came to that. I must say this a bit of a shift for you doc...I'm guessing it wasn't moonshine in that flask of yours..."
He snorts at Halsanna's comment, "Then I daresay that lot owes me a pair of drinks!"
Releasing Yolanda he scratches his beard, "You're right though, they didn't seem nearly as organized as their fashion sense would suggest. Not that I'm complaining, makes life easier."
Looking at Yolanda, he raises an eyebrow, "Alright my lady, we leave you alone for a few hours and you manage to piss off a seriously dangerous summoner? Or were they after our new friend here?"
He looks the old man up and down, "I assume there's a reason we pulled your ass out of the fire? You'll forgive me but my friend here isn't really known for her selfless tendencies..."
A menacing grin is the answer Kalam receives from Abramov. He then studies Yll, wondering how and why she dragged all of them into the mess they just went through.
With their prize in tow, the party retreats to the Bronze House and to Crossroads below. The busy Aspis compound is abuzz with activity. It seems an attack of this nature in the opulent Alabaster quarter has ruffled many a feather. Not more than a few minutes later, a messenger hands Kalam a missive – the party is to be debriefed. Immediately.
His guard's helmet wrapped in his inside-out coat and tucked under one arm, Kalam glances over the missive, flashing his usual grin, "It seems our little outing has garnered some notice. Looks like you're about to meet the lady in charge professor...magister...whatever it is you do."
Starting down the hall he motions for the others to follow, "Come on now, she'll be ever so put out if we're late..."
Traversing the Crossroad’s cold earthen halls, the party soon arrives at Zelda’s office. They’re immediately let in when the aged varisian woman raps her nails on the ornate furniture while reviewing a document. She puts the papers down and looks to the party with an amused twinkle in her eyes – an ambiguous signal.
”So the Nereid’s Kiss is a pile of ash now. How much of a part did you play in that?”
Kalam spreads his hands in a defensive gesture, a hint of a smile still on his lips, "And a good afternoon to you to, lovely to see you as ever. As to the Kiss itself, we..."
His back straightens and he takes on an authoritative tone, "...that is to say, one Sergent Sims of the city guard and his liaisons stumbled into a violent attack on the establishment in question. Upon entering we noted a slew of soft-handed civilians and a contingent of the Order of Tears, as well as our own Lady Yil, under assault by what I believe to be summoned creatures. Moving quickly we worked to extricate the Lady and her new companion, while similarly assisting in the civilian evacuation. Sadly despite both our own efforts and those of the Tears we were unable to save the Kiss itself."
Relaxing his shoulders, Kalam moves over and drops into one of the chairs opposite Zelda's desk, his leg draped over one arm, "As to the start of all the excitement and the importance of our new informant, I'm afraid Lady Yil shall have to take over for me on that one."
His face momentarily loses it's humor, "Though I will say, whoever mounted that attack wields some serious power. These aren't simple lunatics we're dealing with, not by a long shot..."
.
Abramov feels the need to add something to Kalam's rendition of today's happenings. "When we were dispatched to the Kiss, the situation had already escalated. Our greatest feat was by preventing any casualties while claiming the prize. But I do fear that the other party involved, the Tears, will feel the need to right some wrongs. I'm afraid that might hinder some of our future endeavours if we don't keep tabs on it. That's all.
Having said what was on his mind, he stepped back.
Zelda steeples her bony fingers and stares long and hard at the party.
Finally, she lowers them and nods. "You've done well. It was a hunch but that madman you've brought in is an expert on Runelord magic - a connection that makes perfect sense based on what's known about this killer. Don't worry about the Tears. We have people in the right places to keep them distracted for as long as it takes."
Retrieving a sheet of parchment, she jots a note. "Our patron was impressed when he heard about the extremes we were undergoing to find the killer. He's arranged for appropriate compensation and I'm passing on a share of that compensation to each of you."
She finishes writing the note, folds the paper, and slides the message across her desk towards the party.
Kalam smirks at the display of professionalism...so very dull...
Considering Zelda's words, "Runelord magic? Wasn't there some commotion about that a few years ago? More than a few people go on about it once they're far enough into their cups."
His smirk grows at the praise, "We do of course aim to please. I'm glad our patron is taking note..."
Sliding forward in his chair, he collects the note, hoping to be impressed...
"It would seem that if the scholar is correct than this Azlanist -- Alzanaque? -- has someone rather enthused. Certainly the attack on this Kiss would lend credence to his wild story. The Tears (who ever they are) threatened me and our new friend but they are far too hapless to have summoned those creatures."
Unfolding the note, it appears to be another order for the quartermaster to provide equipment up to 1000 gold to each member of the party.
Zelda cocks an eyebrow at the Lady’s additional information. ”A powerful spellcaster makes sense... Keep up the good work but try to avoid being involved in another scene like this one. Covering up our involvement can be expensive.”
”On that note, I’m adding an additional member to your team. Her team got sloppy and had to be let go but she’s got potential. I’m attaching her to you for now. She’s been told to meet you in the mess hall tomorrow morning.”
Kalam's eyes flash from the note to Zelda and back, folding it again he grins, "We'll make every effort rein in our more...flamboyant tendencies, but I can make no promises. Though continuing the high level of incentivising will certainly help in that regard."
Standing again he raises an eyebrow at the mention of adding to the team, "Cream of the crop or merely good at shifting the blame? No matter, I think we'll find either useful. Now where do we billet the professor until morning?"
"Assuming he remains cooperative, he's our guest and will be provided comfortable furnishings. We'll take care of him for now."
He inclines his head to their employer, "Excellent, thus far he's done little but rant and lose consciousness, I doubt he'll be much trouble."
He turns to his companions, "Well, I daresay we've earned ourselves a little celebration. To the mess hall?"
Grinning, Kalam winks at Halsanna, "Don't forget your cards my dear..."
Abramov seems quite pleased with the reward. A rare genuine smile is curled up around his lips and a little too eager he nods. "Splendid. If that would be all?"
Kalam grins, spreading his arms wide, "Of course, there's much to consider. But that can wait till the morning when we have full account of our new...assets. Tonight we've weathered the ire of a dark mage and emerged successful none the less. I intend to thank Cayden for for all I'm worth tonight, whether the lazy sot actually lifted a finger or not!"
Kalam spends the rest of the night drinking, gambling and enjoying their success and continued health with the others before stumbling to his quarters and soundly passing out.
So much wealth!! Abramov didn't know where to start. A high-quality alchemical set-up of his own ... yes!! But a couple of high quality daggers would also be welcome. Or, perhaps, he should invest in the basics for sleeping poisons. Cheap, effective and a perfect project to master the basics.
Bought: masterwork alchemist lab a 200g plus the ingredients for 2x drow poison a 50g total plus a mw dagger a 302g for a total of 552 gold. Ill think of anything else .. maybe i can brew up a potion or two of cure light?
Ceinwynn (Pronounced: Kine-win) had spent the past few weeks at the Old Fang Inn and Tavern in the Dockway District. Life had definitely thrown her for a loop. Only a month earlier, her career was rolling. She had provided her boss with some classified political data he had been coveting for months. More importantly, she had finally met a decent man that she was actually falling for. As a matter of fact, she had spent every “free” moment with him for the past several months. He was a mercenary by trade and had been teaching her the art of infiltration and sword play. It was definitely a good time in her life.
Unfortunately, all of that changed in an instant. She had returned from a social party where she was marking a high ranking political figure to find her boss murdered. His office had been turned over and all of his files were gone. To make matters worse, that morning was the last time she had heard from her new lover. With nowhere to turn, she sent a note to one of her contacts and laid low at the Inn.
It took several weeks before she would receive any word on what was next. It came in the form of a written message that someone slid under the door of her rented room. The message instructed her to meet her new boss at a facility known as the Bronze House. When she arrived, she was led to a finely furnished office. Sitting at an ornate desk, an older lady dressed in normal traveler’s clothes and smoking a fine cigar addressed her. The lady explained that Ceinwynn had been working for one of the AC’s agents and they had been keeping an eye on her. She was told that she had passed there initiation with flying colors and she had been accepted as a silver level agent. She was given a silver pin and instructed to not ask questions about her former boss. Next, she was led down to the mess hall where she planned to meet her new team.
Sitting at a table by herself, Ceinwynn awaits contact. The 5’7” half elf with auburn colored hair sits leaned back in a chair with knee high black leather boots propped up on the table reading a scroll. Skin tight jet-black leather pants accentuate her long, slender legs while a black silky sleeveless blouse rest softly on her shoulders and chest. Sitting next to her is a large travelling bag with a sheathed sword strapped to one side. She turns and smiles as members approach.
Kalam staggers slightly as he enters the mess hall, long black hair still wet from the bathhouse and red coat hanging open and slightly wrinkled. Noting the half-elf's attention, he visibly collects himself, smoothing his coat and rubbing his face.
He holds up a finger to beg patience and collects an ale, downing most of it before sitting down at her table, offering a crooked grin and seeming in much better humor, "Good morning my lady! You would be the one Zelda told us so much about? It would seem our little team will cut an even more impressive profile if nothing else."
He extends a hand, "Kalam, at your service..."
Ceinwynn rolls up the scroll and slides it into a side compartment of her bag. She takes her legs off of the table and crosses the right over the left as she sits up to shake the newcomers hand. She touches his hand softly and smiles slyly. "By the looks of it, they are doing quite well enough already." She stays leaned forward and rests her chin on her left wrist while resting her elbows on the table. "Well met Kalam. I am Ceinwynn. It is a pleasure to be serviced by one who appears so willing and able."