Melianthe reads the scroll with an appraising eye, noting the ink on the signatures and the stamps and seal. "Well," she says, rolling the scroll back up neatly, "Perhaps after we knock on the good Emperor's door we can lead you to what's left of Andaisin. Not much more than a stain, I'm afraid; she died and then died again as some sort of undead servant to Urgathoa. Seren, it's too bad Nidal can't offer us a reward," she says, smirking at the usually distrusting halfling...er, half-elf. She shrugs and smiles at Laori. "We don't have spiked chains or anything, but we killed her. Twice."
She offers the scroll to the veiled illusionist or the Shoanti to peruse. "Do we agree to work with Laori? If we do, we must share information. Laori," she says, "Is there anything else you know, about these artists, or the Emperor?"
Jarha falls silent and furrows his brow, trying to make sense of the rapid exchange on both sides and Melianthe's strange comments about Andaisin.
As I said, I like her. Her tastes seem to be, well, somewhat acquired, but she is direct and has answered our questions. So I say yes.
"Yeah, that seems odd ... so you are from Nidal, then? Here by order of the ruling body, it seems. Hope you won't consider us getting in the way by killing that ruthless woman. Really, the city would've died if we hadn't," Seren shrugs nonchalantly, but tension sets into his shoulders and his chuckle is strained.
"These artists were working unrelated to each other? Any signs of their assassins at all around here? Nothing obvious like a sawtooth blade lying around, right?"
"...there are Red Mantis assassins about," says Melianthe. "Have you run into them? They tend to explode into red mist when killed, but they do leave blades behind..."
"Red Mantis?" Laori asks, eyes widing. "No, I haven't run into any of them, thankfully. You've made some powerful enemies," she adds, impressed. "Good to hear that Andaisin is taken care of. You take any trophies or evidence I can use?" She eyes Segang a moment, adding, "Nice scythe..."
"I wasn't able to find any obvious connection between these artists. They were all from different neighborhoods, walks of life. But they all committed suicide, and all within the past couple months. I mean, artists tend to be a bit dramatic, but that's too much of a coincidence. I hope Salvator Scream can help make the connection, whether he's aware of it or not."
When you agree to work with her, she cheers and does a small twirl, smiling grandly. "Flay my flesh! This is going to be so much fun. I cannot tell you how boring hanging out with a half-dozen skulls can be!" She blows out the candles and collects the skulls into her bag. "Like I said, I don't know much about the Emperor other than where his compound is. I suppose the locals might know better, but asking around will draw some attention. I don't mind that so much anymore, especially with you all here for mutual support." She gives Segang's bicep a playful squeeze.
As the group prepares to leave, Jarha wanders the place, each of the rooms, to see if he notices anything of interest.
Blackjack goes ghosting along after Jarha, assisting him with his research. And when she is certain the Kuthite cannot hear them, she leans over to whisper in his ear: "I hope I need not mention you should not trust that creature at your back. Elf or no Elf, Kuthites are bad news."
whispering back: "Agreed."
"Oh yes, Laori, there are some lovely human hand candelabras confiscated by the Marshal--I'm sure those would provide proof of Andaisin's doing and demise--also, the leukodaemon corpses, which are being studied somewhere by top arcanists," says Melianthe as casually as she can.
"Well, do we just go up to the Emperor's door and knock? Maybe we should bring him an offering. A cake? Or just barge in and kill everyone, I suppose," says Mel. Diplomacy is truly not her strong suit.
Melianthe scans the rooms for magic but turns up nothing. Jarha and Blackjack spends a few minutes searching each room thoroughly. In addition to the scuffle marks and blood, you find a torn fragment of cloth, caught between the bed and the wall. It appears to be the sleeve of a jacket, embroidered with symbols of Korvosa. It is made of exceptional quality cloth, and also covered in dried blood.
"Well, do we just go up to the Emperor's door and knock? Maybe we should bring him an offering. A cake? Or just barge in and kill everyone, I suppose," says Mel. Diplomacy is truly not her strong suit.
Laori laughs but adds with a wry grin, "While wholsale slaughter sounds like a fun afternoon, I'm worried that Mister Scream would get caught in the fray. I really don't know anything about the Emperor, even why he's got Scream, or what kind of shenanigans he might pull if we attacked."
"Cake instead of death, then?" says the elf witch.
"Reconnaissance instead of either - for now," Blackjack counters. "Decide based on what we find out."
"One person, and I nominate Blackjack--and Hloire, possibly. But I still wonder if there's a baker in Old Korvosa. Who can resist a good cake? With raspberries, and buttercream," says Melianthe, clearly envisioning the cake now.
"Every one loves cake, Mel, but I don't thinknthr confectioners are showing for work right now, " Seren comments as he looks around at the quarantined and depressed area around them.
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"You flatter me, little sister," Blackjack says. "I'll take some backup, though, just to be on the safe side. How about it, Seren? You up for a bit of sneaking and skullduggery?"
We could possibly gather some information about this emperor and his holding. There has to be people about who know something. He smiles at Laori as she tweaks his bicep unused to such forward women. Its obvious he does not understand what he is getting into here. :)
Jarha lets the others decide precisely how to proceed, but he does add, somewhat meekly, "I can go invisible whenever, so I'm happy to help with the investigating as well. If you want, I can follow Blackjack and Seren a little further back, just in case things go really badly."
"Let's do some asking around--discreetly," says Melianthe. "It may help us when we appear at the Emperor's doorstep."
"I agree, intel first and then A ... errr, Blackjack and I can head in."
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Jarha will follow Segang and use his presence as a more soothing counterpoint to Segang's bulk. He'll suggest they visit the slums, because Jarha has worked among those folks. I leave it up to Segang to name other locales. I think his humble robes are suitable for the different audiences contemplated, but to the extent a more refined appearance is helpful, Jarha will use his sleeves of many garments to modify his robes to appear finer.
Segang starts in the slums.
Seren aid other (not slums, gross)
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Melianthe loves Old Korvosa. So dark, so decrepit...she swoops around the twisting streets, feeling quite at home. In between talks with somewhat grimy locals, she nudges Laori. "Is it true that Nidal is very dark? As in, some places do not see the sun at all?"
Blackjack trails after Melianthe in the shadows, not interfering in her diplomatic efforts, but there in case things go wrong -- and keeping a careful eye on the Kuthite.
In between talks with somewhat grimy locals, she nudges Laori. "Is it true that Nidal is very dark? As in, some places do not see the sun at all?"
Melinathe flinches as her nudge hits up against one of Laori's armor spikes. She looks up to find Laori smiling warmly, enjoying the small moment of pain. "Nidal is such a dreary place. I mean, shadows are fine and all, but the people there take it a bit over the top. Shadows are a mixture of dark and light, right? Can't have one without the other."
"You mentioned the dusk elves. I've met a few of your kind from the Uskwood, but they're very standoffish, and didn't seem to like me much at all, even though I'm 'Forlorn' and not from Kyonin. I thought you might have been from there."
You decide on a common meeting place and time, then split up into two groups to cover more ground. Segang, Jarha and Amin ask around in the Narrows and Old Dock, while Melianthe, Seren, Absinthe and Laori go to the relatively cleaner streets of Garrison Hill.
Segang, Jarha and Amin have a little more success, coaxing a few pieces of information from the reticent and frightened locals.
The other group has more modest gains, carried by Melianthe's enthusiasm but getting no help from Seren's insular attitude, Laori's quirky demeanor, and Absinthe's apparent absence.
When you regroup at Salvator's home, you have learned:
Before the quarantine, the emperor was a man named Pilts Swastel, the owner of a notorious theater called Exemplary Execrables in Old Korvosa, that was destroyed during the riots. The Emperor of Old Korvosa rules Old Dock from his palace on Silk Street. He’s seized control of several tenements there, and rarely leaves the place. Mobs of his fanatics scour the streets of Old Dock, seeking more conscripts for his cause. Those who resist are instead captured for other purposes.
He sees Old Korvosa as his stage and forces some of his prisoners to take part in violent, deadly games or gruesome performances, pitting them against his most ferocious pets and followers. Others he simply beheads with his favorite toy, an extravagant guillotine called the 'Tall Knife'.
Those who seek to speak with the emperor must first earn his respect by providing him with entertainment. Of late, it is said that the emperor’s favorite entertainment is a brutal game he invented called Blood Pig. He’s converted a large rooftop inside of his palace into a playing field for this game, and the howls and screams of those playing and watching can be heard throughout Old Dock every evening.
”So....not a cake. It sounds like we need to be gladiators; better that than torture victims or prisoners.” Melianthe is repulsed at what they have learned, but is ready to face it.
”It sounds like you haven’t found your place. I haven’t either, although Korvosa keeps me occupied for now. I’ve lost enough that I don’t feel forlorn per se...I was too busy being an addict,” says Melianthe with a self deprecating smile. ”The touch of the dream spider never really leaves you. Well, damn it, and damn the Uskwood. I suppose it’s the Crown of the World or the Mwangi Expanse for me one day then, or just give up on finding others of my kind. Or just consort with you damned day elves,” she says with a rich laugh.
"Some elves can be a right pain in the arse, can't they?" Laori laughs. "My story is not so different from yours. I grew up on the streets of Riddleport. I never knew my parents, but I had an extended family of foster parents -- some decent, others terrible. Survival trumped all. I learned pretty early that hard knocks and pain are big parts of life, and that's how I came to Zon-Kuthon and his followers." She flashes a wistful gaze to the sky, but her smile quickly returns. "Finally, there were people that understood what I already knew. Don't run from pain... embrace it!"
Segang, while willing, is not excited about being a gladiator for such a man's entertainment. Of course I can do this thing if that is the choice. Do we intend to bargain for Scream? I suspect the price would be high and this emperor might not be willing to part with him for any price. Would a meeting with Scream be enough for all of us?
"Who knows what will impress the Emperor. Perhaps Laori can flense someone for him? That was a joke, Laori. Please don't peel off anyone's flesh." Melianthe alternates between seriousness and smirks with the elf, then looks serious again.
"I've heard a few things about Riddleport. It doesn't sound fun--although I suppose most of my time here has not been enjoyable either. I suppose I've learned a lot through my own hardships. Several of us slew our demons, literally or figuratively speaking. I doubt you've heard of Gaedren Lamm--minor scum of Korvosa, similar cut of cloth to this Emperor, although less...gladiatorial. Less powerful, certainly. Once I was in his employ, and quite unwillingly. Every once in a while, a piratical type would show up in Lamm's den. They stank. I mean, they smelled like the back end of a sea creature." Melianthe gets lost in a haze of memories, and then startles.
"Oh! But I'm sure you were not like them. Anyhow, Lamm is dead. Segang, I'm sure that if the only price to release Scream is the Emperor's death, we can arrange that. Let's meet and find out. ...or we could go to Old Dock, and..volunteer?"
"We could say we were kicked out by the Grey Maidens, or something," adds Melianthe, after another minute. "It's almost true."
"Or we forego attempts at propitiation," Blackjack says in a soft, yet somehow intense tone, "and proceed to infiltration. When someone invites you to a game of cat and mouse, the only way to survive is not to be the mouse. We know where the man is, now. Let us scout around the area, prepare, then use stealth and sorcery to get inside."
I concur with A, er, Blackjack. If we are caught we can then use the kicked out by the maidens story. But how do we explain our interest in Scream? Maybe we owe his family a favor or something?
"We have a Kuthite," Blackjack says, pointing at Laori. "When Kuthites seek people, it is not traditionally to do them favours. Independent artists frequently owe people money. There could be a bounty on Scream's head for outstanding debts."
"Very well. Infiltrate, we explain we are exiles from the rest of Korvosa, and we're here for Scream's head and internal organs, or whatever, Kuthites harvest, if or rather when we are inevitably caught." Melianthe says with a laugh.
"What? We're always caught. I frankly don't mind that part, because then we have a chance to end this Emperor. Now, is there anything we need to purchase? Where's Amin--is there any place one can purchase anything around here?"
Laori gives you a pert look. "Harvest? I don't harvest. Don't confuse Zon-Kuthon with those other deplorables, like Lamashtu or Rovagug."
"And again, I really am not trying to get Mister Scream hurt here, so I think both he and I and you would appreciate not aggravating the Emperor. You want to speak to him too, so it does us no good if we kill the Emperor but Scream bites it in the crossfire."
***
"Oh! I'm sorry, Laori. I don't bother with most religion. It's all rather mysterious to me. Except Pharasma; that makes sense." Melianthe strikes a Pharasma-like pose unconsciously. "Well, I was just preparing for the inevitable melee that will result. Let's see if we can get Ser Scream out quickly and quietly, though."
"It would make a nice change," Blackjack murmurs.
Jarha has little to contribute to the discussion, as he assumes he will not be offered up for gladiatorial consideration. He does mention: "If there is any sneaky investigating necessary, I can be of use and will be happy to help."
"For starters, I am happy to invisibly scout the exterior of the building, to see what exterior doors and windows there are, what types of guards are readily visible, and what security measures are applied to people trying to gain access." Assuming there are no objections, Jarha will do that.
You start to make your way towards the Emperor's 'palace' in Old Dock. You make it about a block from Salvator's home before you run into a pack of the Emperor's thugs, coming the other way. A group of seven strut down the main thoroughfare, and as you speak, four more appear from the alleys at your sides.
"Well, wot 'ave we got 'ere?" the leader of the pack asks loudly as soon as they see you. He is a tall man, lanky with a club foot, and a skullet of greasy brown hair. He brandishes a notched battle axe and knobby club. The other thugs are dressed in an assortment of mis-matched armor and ragged clothes, bearing a similarly odd array of crude weaponry.
"Lookie here... a horser leadin' around a couple o' knife-eared wenches. And they's got a little 'alf-pint slave too. My, wot kinda fun they must be havin' each night," he suggests with a lewd wink, evoking a chorus of laughs and taunts.
"Matter o'fact, we was just lookin' for you," the leader continues, suddenly all serious. "Wot business you up to, trampin' 'round the Emp'ror's territory?"