"Here's the thing. Korvosa's got enough troubles right now as it is without my own men losing their way and going rogue. As much as it pains me to admit, though, this has happened several times already. Many guards have deserted their posts, more concerned about friends and family than the city. I can understand this, but not all of the deserters have family - some of them are simply using the riots as an excuse for personal gain. One such man is Verik Vancaskerkin," she says ominously.
Hearing the name, Dhan gives a low whistle and shakes his head. "If half of what I have heard about that fella is true, I am surprised he has not gone rogue before now."
"Vancaskerkin wouldn't be so bad if he was just a lone deserter, but he's convinced a small group of fellow guards that Queen Ileosa is going to ruin the city. She sighs and rubs her temples. "Whether she does or not isn't the point - right now we've got a city-wide crisis on our hands, and I need all of my guards working with me to see it through. A deserter is worse than a lost resource - it's an infection. I can't afford to pull any of my men other patrols off duty to deal with Vancaskerkin, and I'd rather not expose any of them to him anyway, since I neither want Vancaskerkin to infect more guards with his talk of secession, nor do I want some overly patriotic guard killing Vancaskerkin outright. I need impartial, skilled talent. Like you."
"He's been profiting off of his position long before these riots... But to finally have an opportunity to flush him out..." he says, trailing off into a grin.
"If it's hard evidence you want, Field Marshall, I'm sure our newest prisoner will attest to the lucrative bribes he's been paying to have Verik turn a blind eye."
"How would you prefer this handled?" Marcus asks, turning to face the marshall. "We could try to bring him in discreetly, but if you prefer, we can make the arrest a bit more prolific." He begins walking a small circle as he speaks, eventually coming to rest against a wall. "I take it that this Vacaskerkin fellow is to be brought in to be made example of, but what of the worms he's swayed? We are five, and they are trained warriors. Depending on how many minds he's polluted, containing them all and returning them here might prove problematic."
"Try to keep it as low-key as possible," she says. "Vancaskerkin and his men have holed up in an abandoned butcher's shop up in Northgate - the place was called All the World's Meat. I need you to check out the place. Try to avoid killing any of the deserters if you can, but if you must, they brought it upon themselves when they threw in their lot with Vancaskerkin. For him, I'd really prefer it if you could capture him alive and return him to me for interrogation, but if he makes that impossible, I'll accept his body as well. Finally, see if you can find out why Verik deserted - if there's more to it than simple personal politics, I need to know immediately. Bring me Verik alive, and there's another thousand gold sails in it for you. Dead, he's only worth half that."
Henric makes one last silent salute and makes through the door. He sags against the wall in the hallway. It's been a very long time since he slept.
"We'll meet in Northgate in two hours. I have... some things I need to take care of."
Henric retreats to his quarters, dons his off-duty clothes and makes his way to a small smithy in South Dock, his face wooden and a sense of dread in his eyes. He cluthes something small in his fist.
Dhan nods at Henric, and heads out the door. He turns to (not sure who has our reward now???) and says, "I can look into turning this into actual money if you want. I have a contact who is a jeweler who would pay well for it, and the box. What do you think?"
"Here." Henric hands you the box, tracing his fingers over the royal seal. "I'm sure the Bank of Abadar would like to get their hands on that gold." he adds, chuckling. "One would think the solid gold altar was enough... he says, almost cheerily.
Marcus nearly winces as he rubs his temples. "I make it a point not to involve myself with the clergy, but I suppose that in matters of coin, Abadar's priests know best. Whatever you decide, you can find me at All the World's Meat. I'll go observe our little miscreant guardsman while you see to the gold." Marcus offers a shallow bow, with a nod to his companions. "Henric, Dhan, Marshall." With that simple farewell, he pivots on one heel and strides out the door.
Henric's strained cheer has all but evaporated as he stands on his brothers doorstep, shaking his head. No. Not today. If he couldn't protect little Aaron from that man, he could at least protect his brother from the news... And how could he face him
Cursing his cowardice, he makes his way back towards the barracks. He stops at his favourite barber, appreciating the silence as the squint-eyed Half Orc, Ol' Hooktooth, quietly goes about his work. Leaving two silver on the counter he makes his way back to base, scraping the grime off of his boots, sharpening his blade and polishing his pauldrons to a mirror sheen. Satisfied, he dons his raiment, tracing his hand over the city motto. Trosker ep Styrk in the Ancient Taldane. Fidelity and Strength.
Head held high, he makes his way to the butchers with time to spare, scanning the crowd for Marcus.
You guys find the place relatively easy to locate. A sign hanging above the entrance of 22 Stirge St. bears the image of a fat, smiling cow. You see people coming and going infrequently. Most of them appear rather destitute, but there are a small few who look like they may be up to no good.
Before the group gets too close, Dhan starts questioning some of the locals about the place.
"Keeping many a family from going hungry, they are."
Yet, while you find this interesting, you also come across one additional tidbit of information. Seems that the Cow Hammer Boys are also hiring themselves out as mercenaries. All you have to do is ask them about "the night's special cuts".
Alatáriël, the people you see wandering in and out of All the World's Meat seem mostly to be poor people looking for food. No ill deeds to be seen going on amongst them at the moment.
Henric stands across the street in plain sight, newly polished armor gleaming in the sunlight, staring fixedly at the butcher shop.
After talking to a number of the locals, Dhan passes on his information to the rest of the group. "Perhaps we should scout out the building...make sure there are no bolt holes or other exits our quarry could escape through."
Henric nods, quietly, clasping a hand on your shoulder. "I leave it in your capable hands, friend. A quick sweep will do."
Moving around the building, Dhan makes a quick sweep of the area, noting any exits and what other businesses are around this building. He then returns to the group and gives his report
No roll necessary, unless you want to see if there are any not immediately obvious, in which case, yes, it would be Perception. The building's not very large. There's just the one front door, but there are windows all around the second floor that someone desperate enough to risk a broken neck could feasibly dive through. Also, There is a large cattle pen along the west face of the building surrounded by a wooden stockade fence. There is a gate leading from it into the building proper.
"I have checked the alley and there seems to only be one way in or out. Lets go and check out this place."
Dhan strolls across the street and enters the shop.
The shop looks pleasant enough on the inside. Though the place is mostly dead, you can tell that they were very busy this morning. Two men stand in the shop, both looking harried. One is a tall man with bushy eyebrows that merge together just over his large, flat nose. The other is a wheezy man whose chainmail doesn't quite cover his ample frame. The two men look up at you from their conversation and tell you in no uncertain terms to "Kick off."
Alatáriël quirks an eyebrow at the two shabby men.
"Are we not welcome in this establishment?" she says with a hint of irritation in her voice.
Dhan quickly cases the place, looking for exits and if anyone else might be aroound, hiding.
The room is twenty feet deep and twenty-five feet across. There are no windows, and the only doors are the one you entered from and one on the opposite end of the room behind the counter. The only place you can think of where someone could even possibly hide is under the counter. The two mens' brows furrow in frustration as you appear to ignore their rather pointed demand and begin to look around their shop inquisitively.
"No, yer not. Am I gonna 'ave to repeat myself?" the tall man responds to Alatáriël's comment.
"Stand down, Baldrago. Before I can get you for more than dereliction of duty."