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Seeming oblivious to what others are doing or thinking may be going on, I'll advance to the man (right behind Lazlo) and simple ask, "I need to speak to Roald. Mr. Raimondo has sent me, along with the Sapphire Mage of Osirion. I was told he was here, sir.", loud enough that everyone in the room can hear, while pulling back a bit of my hood to reveal my Wayfinder. "We are here to help break the hold of those Crapsortium weaklings and help the boy."
The man in front of Yanos sneers at the wayfinder and reaches for a weapon. "Pathfinders. We figured you guys would show up here eventually." Across the room, the two other men eye the rest of the group, drawing leatherbound saps from belts.
"Oh no..." Senzer turns pale and sinks behind his chair, leaving only two wide eyes peering over the top.
Haris
László
Shel
Peri Nevermind, use Peri's roll
Barlor
Enforcers
Barlor and Shel rush in, but their attacks fail to penetrate armor or slide past guards. The advantage suddenly lost, the men move to defend themselves, swinging back wildly with their saps.
When their foes prove harder to hit then they expected, one calls out to his companions. "Draw blades!"
Haris' dagger flies over Shel's head and lodges into the man's shoulder fighting her.
The small shop bears witness to a flurry of motion as allies and enemies jockey for position, slash, stab, and hurl weapons. Then, just like that, the fight is over.
Two enforcers lay facedown in growing pools of blood, wounds inflicted by Yanos' spear and Ing's tusks having felled one, while the other fell to a combination of Shel's dagger and Haris' thrown blade. The last man, wounded by Peri's magic missile, then stabbed by László's rapier, falls to his knees and surrenders. Of your group, only László took a hit, smacked in the head by an errant sap that was more painful then deadly.
Rising from behind his chair Senzer wipes his brow and wrings his hands in his leather apron.
“Thank you, Pathfinders! I’ve been expecting you ever since I stopped contact. Tragic illness grips my poor son, Roald, and a woman named Lura Ichon claimed to have a cure. I signed away my entire operation to the heartless wench to cure my son, but the elixirs she sends every day are diluted with cheap rum to the point of being almost useless. In exchange she’s worked me sunup to sundown manufacturing drugs for her little den of vice, the Sanguine Pit.
“I know she found a real cure for my boy—tiny amounts of it in those elixirs she sends keep him from getting worse — but I can’t march into that bar of hers and demand it. And as soon as she learns what you did to her men, she’ll kill me and Roald, as sure as you’re standing here. I want to help you, really I do, but I gave the Society everything I had for three years. Now, I need you to return the favor. If you want any help supporting your excavation, I need that cure for my son, and some guarantee that Lura Ichon won’t dump us in the bay the moment you leave.”
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"Don't worry, we will help. What I said earlier was true, I have something for the boy. I'm sorry that you where swinded, but the Society has allies that really need your help, so we need your help. A lot of other innocent people will be hurt if we can not get to them soon. What can you tell us of his illness? Or this Lura character? Are there any other Society allies in the area we can count on?"
"I have told you everything I know." Senzer says, sounding more than a little desperate. "My boy became sick, likely from some exotic Mwangi affliction, and the only person I know who has the means to help him is Ichon. You handled her enforcers well enough, and I think you could probably deal with her in similar manner. She's probably at the Sanguine Pit right now. Please, help my boy!"
In answer to Yanos' question about Pathfinder support, Senzer says he knows of a woman named Malika Fenn who resides in a small home in Bloodcove, but doubts she could be of much help seeing that she didn't do much to help him.
"If someone can tie him up securely, I can hold him in the back room." Senzer says moving to the front door to close curtains and lock up the shop.
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While Laszlo and Harris are debating the use of ropes, I'll walk over to the thug that surrendered and hunker down in front of him, (if he is on the floor). "So what kinds of interesting things can you tell us, friend? Ah, Ah! Eyes here. No need to worry what they are doing behind you. Just focus on telling me what you know." Stoping a moment to look over then thug's shoulder back at Shel, "I'd suggest the bigger one, dear. He's a big one, and we don't want to take his whole head off.", back at the thug, "I apologize for that, it was rude, and well, lets be honest, we need you alive, for now. Now, lets start with who hired you, and why?"
The man cowers before Yanos. "Oh crap, oh crap. You killed them! I'll tell you whatever you want, and I'll disappear after. I won't tell anyone nothing. I swear to The Gold-Fisted, I just want to live."
"She'll probably feed me to one of her creatures for this, but I work for Lura Ichon. Senzer's been supplying her with drugs and we were ordered to hang around and make sure all his work goes only to her."
"She owns the Sanguine Pit and hosts fights there, mostly animal stuff, but once a week she arranges for something exotic. Tonight is one of her special nights. She's a witch or sorcerer. Can summon things to fight for the crowd or protect herself. Has a bodyguard, some kind of summoned demon or doppelgänger she calls Bellu - looks a little like her, but much bigger and stronger."
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"What sorts of drugs? Relax. Tell us the truth, and I promise you, you will live. If your honestly open to giving up this life of crime, violence, and working for scum like the Consortium or a witch that would blackmail a father while killing his son, well, later, I can speak to you about the tenets of Eratil's faith and perhaps a more fulfilling and honest life, following Abadar, well less ethical road of civilize aristocracy and treachery obviously isn't working for you but for now, we need to know as much as we can in order to stop this Lura, save some innocent people, and help the boy."
"So what is on tonight's venue for the Sanguine Pit? How do we get in there? What sorts of security can we expect? Is Lura there most of the time? Basically anything you know."
"Ichon doesn't care about faith. And I doubt Erastil could protect me from her." The man says fearfully. "Her place is open to the public. Some of us used to hang out there, but since she assigned us to keep and eye on Senzer she's been handling her own security. That's all I know."
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"Well, we shall see what Erastil can do about this witch. Perhaps then you will open your heart to a differnt path in life."
From there, we will go ahead and bind him, thwog him over the head a few times with the sap, and move him to the place Senzer spoke of.
Turning back to Senzer, "I spoke the truth earlier, friend of the Society. I did have a message for you and your son. I am honored to deliver you this letter, a gift and request from Amenopheus, the Sapphire Sage himself. It offers your son a place of honor and distinction for your years of service. As I have said, we will find either a cure, or some some way to help your son. Family, above all else, is sacred to Erastil, a the Society does not foresake it's allies. It will be done."
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"Now that you mention it, while we are here in Bloodocve, I'd like to drop by the Cartegn Sugarpress. Perhaps I could buy you all some tasty treats, if you'd be willing to occupy the staff, while I take a quick sneak around the place. I need to pick up a record or two."
"I can certainly assist with that, Shel. Though the waterfront is nae a west block from here. We should take a quick stroll for the sake of a certain Baron?"
Once more your group braves the rough streets of Bloodcove. On route Haris notices Yanos' wayfinder exposed, and though he quickly conceals it, and no one confronts your group, you can't help but wonder if others might have taken notice as well.
*****
The Cartahegn Sugarpress stands right next to the House Cartahegn trading post, and as you draw close you observe a mass of citizens and merchants surrounding the sprawling, two-story structure. Some wear worried expressions and wring their hands, while others shout angrily at a well-dressed young woman by the entrance.
“As I said,” shouts the Cartahegn spokesperson from atop a wooden crate, “all Cartahegn resources are needed to deal with this emergency with our sugarpress, and our storefront is closed for the remainder of the day or until management resolves the situation. We apologize for the inconvenience, but for now please return to your homes and places of business.”
As she climbs down, most of the grumbling mob begins to disperse.