"Oh dear, it appears I'll have to try harder," Horatio chuckles, an exaggerated, offended expression coming over his face. "If I don't annoy you enough, I'm losing my touch." He grins as he takes another sip, wiping his mouth with his thumb before mentally replaying the notes before him.
He raises an eyebrow at the unsolicited advice, before slowly nodding. "I can't say I know what it's like to lose a parent - mine are alive and as well as anyone can be living in the poorest part of Old Korvosa. I've lost - friends, though." His eyes fall to the paper as he continues. "I'll... Try to take your advice into consideration. I don't want to smother the poor woman." Trying to lift his tone again, he adds, "After all, she brings my drinks, so she's the one woman I really can't offend in this town."
A laugh that was low in volume escaped Veryl's lips "You should really try to get closer to the sheriff of this town, who knows maybe you'll teach him how to smile or..." Veryl let out an obviously fake gasp "Laugh, I know I'd pay good coin to see that" Arms crossing in front of him, Veryl gave the younger man an appraising look that was among the most serious he'd used till now.
"I do not know much about music, Horatio" Once more an honest tone rang through Veryl's words "But I know ambition when I see it, do not let that ambition go" His right hand moved to Horatio's shoulder and clenched it "Never let it go, no matter what happens, understand?" He squeezed a bit harder and then gave the chelaxian bard a friendly clap on the back before retreating his hand to his side, and dissolving the serious expression that came over him, leaving only the serene look that usually occupied the swordsman's face.
A strange, metallic scraping noise gets louder--closer--to the two gentlemen chatting, and is soon accompanied by footsteps. Kalig arrives, dragging a large hammer behind her, and holding a large sack over her shoulder. With her robe and holy charm, she looks a bit like a traveling laborer who has found religion... a mendicant priest of some working order, perhaps. She puts down the sack and pulls out two bags of flour from within, handing each to Horatio and Veryl.
"If we do not use it all, we can make griddle cakes."
Horatio shifts in his seat at Veryl's small speech, the relief on his face visible when Kalig approaches with the results of her own shopping trip. He spares a single nod of acknowledgement to Veryl before taking the flour, placing it on the floor beside his pack. "That reminds me - do you think anyone here knows how to make Oliphant Ears?" He pushes out a chair for Kalig, finishing his drink. "They were a rare treat back home - rich, buttery pastries, fried up on the back of a tower shield in the afternoon sun. When I was younger, I could sometimes trade one for a song - then of course, they started expecting new songs." Its not entirely clear whether he's trying to make conversation, or distract himself.
Placing the bag with his right hand into his pack, he pulls it out holding a different bag "Cold Iron Weapon Blanch" He handed her the the bag, before getting up taking the large hammer from its location near her pack and placing it next to his "You are no longer traveling alone" He simply said before sitting down in his chair "Learn to share the load" He then continued before stretching his hands a neck back.
"I do not know, but in this town I wouldn't be surprised if we found a master chef hiding in some abandoned home or another" Commented the man in crimson, with a snicker.
Kalig puts the weapon blanch in her pouch, nodding thanks to Veryl, and sits in the chair Horatio pulls out for her. She shrugs at Veryl taking the sledge. As long as it got put to its intended purpose, she doesn't mind not bearing the load until then.
"I do not think I've seen an Oliphant Ear. I do remember getting sweet pastries when I was very small, though. Covered in cinnamon and sugar." She trails off a moment, remembering a time as if it were from another life. She snaps to, and regains her more practical tone. "You could ask Bethana if she knows."
Nodding along with Veryl, "But with our luck, he would summon demons in his spare time, and keep goblins in his pantry."
"The sad thing about all of this, is I've reached a point where I honestly would not be surprised if that were the case" Veryl began rubbing his forehead with his right hand, as a semi focused look came upon his face, but then withered away "I was going to to talk strategy, but no sense in doing that with only half of our number here" Hazel eyes turned to Kalig as his hand left his forehead.
"He's from Korvosa, and I am from Magnimar, but I don't believe you've told us where you hailed from" Then he stopped abruptly "You do not have to discuss it if you do not want to, curiosity got the best of me"
"I come from the side of the road." She shifted, and grabbed, uncorked, and took a sip from her waterskin. "Location? Somewhere in Varisia. I don't know where the merchants picked me up from. When I was seven winters, orcs attacked them and took me; they camped near the Iron Peaks. They have probably moved on since."
"You've had an interesting past, its no small wonder you take things so seriously most of the time" Veryl kept his attention on the half-orc "Well since you've shared more than I've expected you to, its only fair that I do the same" The fingers of his left scratched at his hair, as if he was having trouble deciding where to begin his tale.
"I am sure I've told you that I was a blacksmith's apprentice, well I didn't become the guard of a nobleman directly after that" He paused as a wistful smile came over his face "You see the finely dressed man who sits before the two of you, became a common thug after he was considered not worth keeping anymore" Silence came over Veryl, as anger flared in his eyes, but they were not directed at any of his listeners, it was as if they were looking at a third person that was only visible to himself "The funny thing about all this? I was actually offered a better job with one of the more famous smiths in the city before I was let go, but I refused because of loyalty to that greedy bastard" The ghost of silence haunted him once more, as he placed both hands in the table as he returned to staring at nothing.
"Well that was rather morbid" He said as a smile came over his face "Who wants to share next?" His eyes shift towards Horatio.
The door opens and Breaca enters the meeting point. She takes in the room with a glance, spots her companions, and makes her way to their table. The new sword is cinched to her waist with what looks to be a new belt, one better suited to her form. She wears it easily as she swings into an empty chair and nods at the others, not wanting to interrupt whatever it was they were discussing.
Miro has the same equipment as before the parties shopping spree, feeling comfortable with the thin blade. He listens quietly to Veryl. He would trust us with that?
Kalig only nods at Veryl, having little to comment upon it. Speaking up would seem a judgment and she had none--she only noted he trusted them to know him better than he might have even on the caravan journey.
She nods to Breaca, as she sits. "We were talking about where we came from."
Taking Veryl's cue, Horatio scratches his fingertips idly and begins. "Well, I was born in Korvosa. I'm not entirely sure where my parents lived before I was born, but after, it was Bridgefront, where the poorest of the poor congregate. I suppose I was an accident, but not an unwelcome one." He slips into his storyteller voice easily, the words rolling off his tongue despite barely having been spoken before. "They're both still alive and well, just dirt-poor and living on whatever sails they can get from my mother's waitressing. Ever since father injured his back, he hasn't been able to work. And of course, the prominent faith in Korvosa is Abadar - you want medical aid? Pay up." A bitter note creeps into his voice, as if he's remembering more than just his father. "I always had food, though, and shoes on my feet, which I wore out running all over the Shingles. There were a few hungry nights, but I never starved. Once, I heard a symphony, and that... that was when I fell in love. My mother had to save until I was twelve to buy me my violin, but it was worth every pinch." He places the violin on the table - a battered thing with gut strings and a hippogriff-hair bow. He points to his initials, scratched clumsily into the back of the neck. "I call her Rosaline.
"The rest, as they say, is history. I started performing on street corners, then in taverns, eventually landing regular appearances at Bard's End. I tried out for the orchestra, but was told I had an undeserved ego and needed a smaller place to start. So I came here. There isnt really much else to say."
"I doubt the people who told you to start small, or your mother and father for that matter thought 'starting small' meant fighting off goblins and demons...and yet here you are" Veryl's fingers were interlocked in front of him "Still there is an opportunity in this" Stated the swordsman as he looked the bard in the eye.
"When you finally do decide to write an ode about the life you spent you'll have plenty of interesting things to include" An inscrutable half grin drew it self upon Veryl's lips "Just make sure the rest of us are mentioned and try not to give yourself too much credit either, I know because its what I would do" Veryl then turned towards the new arrivals "We seem to be missing one more, anything any of you would like to say before we go and renegotiate our position with the demons in regards to their illegal presence beneath the glassworks?" A familiar sarcasm returned the black haired man's words as he pulled a chair for both Breaca and Miro in the same manner Horatio had pulled him one earlier.
Miro nods in understanding. "The aim of good men is often distorted by the law."
As Veryl pulls up a chair for him he gives a slight smile. "I'm afraid I won't be telling my story. You lot have been with me long enough to know I'm not a merchant, but any more than that and I could put you into harm's way."
Kalig discerns little nuance in Horatio's tale, and accepts his story is short simply to give the others time to talk.
"Well," she says, nodding in Miro's direction, "The question asked was just'where are you from?' The others have opted to trust us with other details. You do not have to." She chuckles. "Although, I am sorry, little one, but I struggle to imagine your past as something threatening to the rest of us. Did you anger a troupe of assassins who hate all who turn left?"
Kalig had seen Miro display his skills of sleight of hand enough times to suspect him of knowing the arts of thievery. She did not imagine, however, that whatever past crimes of theft would ever become her problem.
"Close. If they were to make an arrival then I would disappear and they would question you."
Chuckling, Breaca shakes her head. "Sounds like I had best keep you in arm's reach then. I have no wish for questioning."
"I lived seven years in an orc tribe. Torture doesn't really frighten me."
"Sure frightens me somewhat. I mean, pain is scary," Horatio mutters, absent-mindedly raising his mug to his lips before realizing it's already empty.
"Hard life and torture are different. I for one would spin a web of lies before letting anybody break my skin."
"But then you would not get any nice scars to mark your journey through life."
Miro laughs. "Tragic. If that's my biggest regret than I'll take it."
Merwyn ties Cob to a tree outside and covers him with the sheet. "Stay quiet, okay? I'll be back soon with food." She scurries into the tavern, brandishing her new (unloaded) crossbow as she heads to the table with her companions. "Impressive, right?"
"Ah, the conquering hero returns," Horatio chuckles, raising an eyebrow at Merwyn's display. "Well, I suppose this means we need to head back?"
"Very formidable. Breaca says to Merwyn with a slight grin. And yes, we should return. There is little to be gained by waiting and every moment delayed gives our enemies time to prepare for our return."
"A good weapon," Kalig says to Merwyn. She reaches into her sack and hands a bag of flour and gives one to Miro, Breaca, and Merwyn. "Breaca's right, we should go back."
"Its too bad there isn't another group of heroes that could take a swing at it" Veryl gave a half smile as he left his chair reluctantly and slung the sledge hammer over his back "Lets go before I start talking about how the guards aren't being as helpful as they are supposed to be"
"What, tiring of the heroics already?" Horatio chuckles at Veryl's comment, closing his journal and tossing the writing implements back in his pack. He places his empty mug on the bar and tucks 'Rosaline' back into his belt as he stands, shouldering his somewhat-heavier pack and shifting his stance unedr the added weight. "Guards take training, Veryl. We're new in town - adventurers are expendable." He rolls his eyes as he says this, but his tone is good-humored. "Come on, then. The day is wasting, and our foe can't be allowed any more time to prepare."
You make unchallenged progress to the catacombs. The gurads posted on the tunnel entrance tell you nothing has passed by since you left.
Again, you move through the catacombs unopposed until you reach the doors of the 'cathedral' you closed when you left. They're still closed.
"I don't see anything, but then again that isn't strange for our flying friend is it?" Sarcasm laced words flowed from Veryl as he unsheathed his cold iron bastard sword, the scrape of metal against hardened leather whispering in a more threatening tone "Shall we draw him out?" Veryl fell into his stance as he awaited his companions anti-invisible strategy before stepping in and dealing with the little monster in a more old fashioned manner.
Whether the doors are opened or not, Kalig listens for trouble.
None of you can remember closing the doors but they are definitely not open!
Listening at the door, Kalig can hear muttering, and the pitch of the voice suggests it comes from the quasit. The doors are too thick to make out specific words.
Kalig whispers to the group, "The quasit is still within. I can pull open the door while Veryl and Breaca charge her, perhaps?"
Breaca nods and grips the sword, preparing herself to rush in.
After a single nod of agreement, a semi serious expression came over Veryl's face; his eyebrows growing closer together and his mouth forming a small frown The moment I see that little flying demon, I am ripping its wings out of its back Veryl's grip on the hilt of his newly bought sword grew stronger, and a somewhat determined gleam appeared to be mixed in what appeared to be a hateful stare directed at the door before them "The flying beast is mine, Miro I want you at its backside when I face it"
"Gotta keep the little bugger grounded. I'm with you Veryl."
Once everyone is ready, Kalig pulls open the door and steps aside to let the warriors charge through. Once Veryl, Breaca, and Miro go through she follows (presumably along with Merwyn and Horatio).
Merwyn leads Cob by the reins and nods. "Ready when you are."
"If we're going to blanch our weapons, we should do so now," Horatio points out.
You test the door before you enter - but it is clearly locked.
As Kalig tries the door, she jiggles the handle, showing it is locked. "They may have blocked it. Time for the hammer?"
Grabbing the massive hammer with both hands, Veryl pulls back "You better give me some room" He warns before unleashing a massive swing at the door.
Although a locked door was among the least of new obstacles she suspected they would find, Breaca grimaces at the delay as she steps back to give Veryl room to work. The fingers gripping the sword flex and she rolls her neck, keeping her taught muscles loose and ready for what was sure to come.
Veryl quite literally bashes the door down. As the door opens, you see the most recently spawned Sinspawn dead on the flooor and the quasit is muttering and sobbing as she looks into the well. She seems oblivious to your entrance - despite the noise you will have made.
The well now looks like it contains regular water - there is no hint of a glow.
"I never thought I'd say this but..." Veryl hand scratched the back of his head, as his eyes cast a reflection of surprise on the scene that was unfolding before them "Seeing a demon cry really takes the fight out of you" He said semi mockingly before hooking the sledge hammer back to its place near his back pack and simply stares at the unbelievable scenario that they were beholding.
"Anyone care to try something?" He asked after several moments of silence.
Horatio's face twists into a grimace at the sight of the demon sobbing over the well. "Can't say I've seen anything like this before," he mutters, letting his newly-blanched rapier's tip fall towards the ground. After an awkward silence, he clears his throat, stepping forward, but keeping a hand on his blade. "Servant of Lamashtu," he begins, somewhat awkwardly, glancing back at the party for approval, "We came to put an end to your machine tons, but it appears you are in no position to fight. Surrender now, and tell us the nature of this well, and we shall dispatch you quickly to the Abyss."