the barbarian nods. A good place to visit then. If no one has a better recommendation, let us be off.
"City's in chaos right now ... I think the last place we want to be is on the streets in the wee hours. We're likely to get caught up in a riot or worse, some sort of draconian guard sweep to lock down dissenters and 'keep the peace.' It's late, we're tired, let's rest here the night and not take a large group of 20 people, most of whom can't defend themselves well out into the streets of chaos. Maybe things calm down in the morning. Bar the door, set watches and wait until there's at least light out."
Seren settles in to accentuate his point, sitting up against a wall, closing his eyes and attempting to sleep.
"I don't have a better plan at the moment. Let's move."
"Let us go and take the Lambs, by all the Hells!" Melianthe hisses at the telepathically communing party.
Following Absinthe's lead, you leave Zellara's home and head into the streets. Tension runs high throughout the city, and you catch more than a few nervous faces peering from behind their windows and boarded up doors. People run past you in all directions, but no one bothers a group of your size. You see any number of Korvosan guards clashing with rioters, chasing them down, or being run off by their greater numbers. A low pall of smoke, sweat and fear can be seen, smelled and felt.
Using alleyways and cross-cutting side streets, you avoid the largest groups. Headed north towards Old Korvosa, you leave Midland but find all access through North Point cut off, forcing you to cut west and skirt the edges of the Heights, where the clashes seem most intense. The children remain quiet and obedient through the trek, eyes wide for danger.
Nearing the Narrows of St Alika, you brush the edge of a mob howling curses such as "Death to the Whore Queen!" and worse as they ransack a number of trade shops. You round a corner to evade notice, only to come face-to-face with a mob of ten men wielding shovels chair-legs, and lengths of iron pipe. They block the street, surrounding a beardless young nobleman. One of the mob, a labourer, fat and bald with greasy muttonchops framing his rotund face, jeers and addresses the young man in a booming voice. "Bet'cha nev'r work an 'onest day's wage in'yer life, eh Queen's Man?" He pokes the nobleman with his pipe. "M'brother 'ad 'is arm crushed by a barrel on th'docks when 'e was younger than you... never raised a mug o'ale with tha'wrist again. Wanna know what it feels like?"
"Bother," Absinthe mutters. "That seems... wrong. Children, pray be quiet and stay in the shadows."
The tiefling takes a couple of steps forward after the children have hidden, and calls out in a friendly tone of voice with a strong Korvosan accent: "Come now, neighbour, that is no way to act.
Shake a noble down and send them home naked, good fortune and riches to you. If you hurt them, the guard comes and starts arresting random people and putting the thumbscrews on. Besides... this is just a beardless boy.
Maim this beardless bairn now, or kill him, and people will swing for it from the one-legged horse*, sooner or later. Innocent people who need to make a living and support their families. That won't do at all, will it now? Just take his money and strip him down, spank him and paint funny pictures on his body if you are so inclined, but pray do not take it too far."
"No, you should all leave him alone or you will have to deal with me. I am surprisingly out of patience this day." Demitri growls at the mob, this was the last thing he needed to witness.
Melianthe waits in the shadows, watching the scene and staying with the Lambs.
"Ugh, nobleman ... who cares." Seren mutters to himself, but melts into the shadows nearby to protect the children, an arrow drawn.
Segang, sword drawn, moves to stand with Demitri. There will be no bone crushing today, unless I do it. He hefts his heavy wooded shield to emphasize the point. Go back home and guard your families. Enough evil has transpired this day.
"Ah, well," Absinthe sighs, her rapier seeming to leap into her hand. "One supposes it might have come down to this sooner or later."
Addressing the angry mob, she smiles and shrugs. "Now then. Who wishes to be reasonable and who wishes to be grievously injured?"
Muttonchops turns to face you, raising an eyebrow and looking none too impressed. His cronies, however, seem less interested in a fight with armed strangers. Demitri's stance makes a few of them sidle away, and more follow as Segang and Absinthe weigh in. Muttonchops looks over his shoulder for support, finding most of his 'friends' gone, and runs to join them.
The young man regains his feet, nearly shaking from nerves. "I am Amin Jalento, and you have my sincere thanks."
"One greets you, Amin Jalento, but must question your wisdom," Absinthe gently chides the well-dressed young man. "Why are you not safely behind locked doors and high walls during this time of strife and transition of power?"
"Contrary to what some think, it was the right thing to do. As she said, what are you doing out here?"
"Can we all discuss this in a safer place? Amin, I'm sure your story is terribly interesting. Let's hear it on the move. Lambs, be ready." Melianthe nods to Seren to gather them, her doctor's mask bobbing with the movement.
Amin reaches into his waistcoat and pulls out a small leather purse, handing it over. "Too much to tell, and the doctor is right. I must needs get to my home before the streets get worse. Again, thank you!" He gives a short bow before turning and sprinting away.
Segang will accept the purse, and has the good graces to wait until the man is away before looking inside to count his gratitude. We might be on to someting. he says with a smile. Lets go save some more folks.
"While moving," agrees Melianthe, "Towards a semblance of safety." She adjusts her gloves and mask and gives Absinthe a nod to lead the group on.
Continuing on, you zig-zag through the streets, finally managing to reach the bridge to Old Korvosa. Here, a large number of city guardsmen retain control and keep the bridge clear of riff-raff. They take notice of you, but seeing you escorting the children, quickly wave you by without trouble.
Old Korvosa remains peaceful for the moment, and the chaos of the city has yet to ravage its streets, but there is a noticeable tension in the posture and face of every passerby. You enter the Old Dock ward, one of the most destitute and run-down in the city. Groups of citizens gossip on every corner, trying to sort rumor fact from fiction.
Absinthe takes you to the Sticky Mermaid, a fixture of Old Dock for more than two centuries. It is an unwholesome tavern, frequented by a 'rough' custom... certainly not a place for young children. Absinthe bypasses the front door and to a hidden basement entrance down a side alley. A quick sign/countersign and the door opens to a smoky chamber.
"Mooneyes," says a hooded man sitting by a hookah, raising an eyebrow as you lead the children inside. "Long time..."
"It has been a long time indeed, friend," Absinthe says, and she inclines her head politely. "One thought the current disorder a good reason to stop by for a visit. One does not, of course, come empty-handed when asking for your kind hospitality once more. One comes bearing useful as well as joyous news; you may be able to expand your base of operations."
The tiefling casually sits down opposite the hooded man, her hands in plain sight, and smiles as fetchingly as she can. "You may be able to guess that one is in the market for some information, also. But first: how is the 'family' doing these days? One has tried to stay in touch, but her apprenticeship has been most demanding. As have... other matters. You recall Rigger's death, of course."
"Just as long as you realize that sometimes you won't be rewarded for doing the right thing, Segang."
---------------------------
Demitri stays quiet as Absinthe has her conversation with the hooded man. This was not his area of expertise and he'd only make things worse by speaking.
these had better be noble thieves, thinks Melianthe, I didn't sign on just to expand the turf of Lamm's rivals.
You recognize the voice belongs to Jann, a long-time member. "Yeah, I do... and you'll always have a place here, but we ain't got the room or the resources for close to twenty. And the kids? I recommend High Bridge Orphanage."
"Fear not, for we have no intention of making this an extended stay. If we may remain here until things quiet down a little, that would be most welcome. Sending these young ones to High Bridge might be a bit premature, especially with the city in an uproar over the King's demise," Absinthe says. "On to the good news: if you move swiftly, you may be able to make a move on Gaedren Lamm's territory without any resistance."
Absinthe inclines her head towards the children. "You are surely familiar with the monniker 'Lamm's lambs', yes? These are no longer lambs, and Lamm is no longer a factor in the equation that is Korvosa. That being the case, one was hoping you might have a few leads on surviving relatives of these young ones."
Melianthe exhales quietly at the presumed turn of good luck for the Lambs.
"We'll help you with resources. We just need a place to stay for a moment, but some of us will go out into the streets to gather information."
Jann snorts, "'Surviving relatives'? I hope you're kidding. You have been gone a while, but we're thieves, in case you forgot. Let the orphanage sort it out. Now, if you need a good fence..." He looks around the group and shakes his head. "You can stay the day, but this isn't a hostel. Be gone by nightfall."
"Absinthe, a word," says Melianthe.
She draws Absinthe aside with other members of the party. "I appreciate your reconnecting with your old compatriots, but I think we need a more stable place to stay for the Lambs."
"One concurs," Absinthe murmurs back. "It was worth a try, however. The thieves do keep abreast of all kinds of information."
"Agreed. But this will have to do for now until we think of something better. I think we should get the kids to the orphanage first."
And the orphanage might have need of our help in general. Seems I need to do a good deed or two without reward. The large barbarian smiles good-naturedly at Demitri.
"Before one forgets," Absinthe says, turning back to Jann, "there is another item of news one wished to share."
The tiefling adopts an overly-solemn, almost saintly expression and steeples her fingers.
"One regrets to inform you that your competitor, the disgusting refuse known as Gaedren Lamm, died in no small part due to the treachery of his lackey Yargin," she says. "He actually informed on his employer to enemies for an offered reward! Shocking, is it not? Regretfully, it should be made known that he is a 'peach', lest he endanger anyone else in the community."
Absinthe bats her eyelids. "Is it not simply deplorable?"
Listening and watching for a moment Segang speaks up. I agree with Jann.We do belong in this place. It is dark and, well I shall not insult our host but I like it not. I would rather be on the street where I can learn more of what is happening in the city. He begins gathering up his things, preparing to leave.
Demitri can't help but smile as Absinthe sells out Yargin. "To the orphanage then."
"It might be better to wait for dusk, when many of the rioters have returned home to eat," Absinthe suggests.