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"I invited him?!" Squint says behind a cupped hand to Deric. When he sees Jasper glancing at him, Squint blushes behind his copious makeup and doubles down.
"Yes, OF COURSE, I did! And there's no reason that he would want to accompany us to a gangster den, especially with his expertise in how the Black Kiss Boys gang runs...." Squint sees his tongue betraying him once more and freezes in place, considering a spot on the inside of his skull.
He then flashes a helplessly grand smile at everyone.
Jasper frowns as he considers Deric's order, but the expression passes quickly and he then grins as he nods along with Squint's statements. "Yes, yes. Go. Stay. We all have our duties."
Licking the last of the crumbs from his hands, Jasper turns toward the water and begins to whistle an unfamiliar tune as he leans back.
"I am not up for hoofing it back to the manor just to keep them posted of our whereabouts. We might want to notify the captain of our vessel we have other plans. Barkot, can you guide us to these Scar...Wreckwashers?"
"Sure. I mean, it's just The Dry Crows down in Dockway, same place where we met him the first time. And I agree we don't need to report back to Lady H before we head over there; we can talk to her tonight or first thing tomorrow. But what's the change of plans you want to tell the captain about? That we're going to have an extra passenger?"
"You planning on the boat or the march?
Leaving Jasper behind, the party heads over to Dockway and heads for The Dry Crows.
The midday crowd has dispersed, leaving only a few stragglers. The staff are cleaning floors and tables, and you can hear bustle from the kitchen as they begin preparations for the evening meal.
As your eyes adjust, you see Nikulaie sitting at a table in the back, speaking with a dock worker. Two men sitting at a table between Nikulaie and the door look up from their coffee as the party enters.
"You planning on the boat or the march?
Barkot shrugs. "I think the boat'd be faster and let us avoid some of the swamp, but I could be convinced."
Leaving Jasper behind, the party heads over to Dockway and heads for The Dry Crows.
The midday crowd has dispersed, leaving only a few stragglers. The staff are cleaning floors and tables, and you can hear bustle from the kitchen as they begin preparations for the evening meal.
As your eyes adjust, you see Nikulaie sitting at a table in the back, speaking with a dock worker. Two men sitting at a table between Nikulaie and the door look up from their coffee as the party enters.
When he sees Nikulaie and his obvious bodyguards, Barkot says to the other Pathfinders, “I think we don’t wanna make any sudden moves here, guys.”
He nods in the direction of the bodyguards and points at the gang leader, but doesn’t approach until he gets some signal that the Wreckwash Blades won’t take it as a threat.
One of the men wordlessly nods toward a table. Assuming the party takes a seat to wait, the men return their attention to their cups as a waitress comes out to see if the party is ordering anything.
After about ten minutes of waiting, Nikulaie completes his conversation. The two stand up and kiss cheeks as Nikulaie places a small pouch in the man's hand.
The dock worker heads for the door and Nikulaie looks around at the party and a smile lights up his face. He spreads his arms as he walks over, exclaiming "Ah! The heroes have arrived!". Loudly he calls toward the kitchen, "Stefana! Bring the Tuica"
He makes his way around the table. Anyone who stands, he grasps and kisses both cheeks. If anyone stays seated, he laughs and clasps a shoulder. He chuckles as he eyes Squint's clothes, so different from the last time he visited.
By the time he makes it around the table, a crystal decanter and five shot glasses have been placed in front of the table. He fills them, then raises his own. "No strange abductions for a week! My city, she is a little safer thanks to you. I am pleased to call you all friends."
He sips from his glass and sits down. Those who join him taste a sweet plum brandy. Barkot would recognize the liquor as a staple of Varisian celebrations and an exceptionally fine vintage.
Leaning forward on the table, he continues smiling as he asks. "So, what brings you to see Nikulaie today?"
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Squint stays seated as Nikulaie comes to the table, then awkwardly tries to clasp the Varisian man's arm in pleasant greeting as he gets a warm shoulder grip. He misses.
Squint doesn't miss identifying the Tuica as a pleasant brandy, and salutes the face of the Wreckwash Blades, enjoying the warmth of the liquor as it coats his mouth.
"My compliments on this Tuica. It's awesome!"
AWESOME?!?!? the halfling silently berates himself.
Thankful for the coat of cosmetics, Squint turns to Barkot to speak for the party.
Barkot swigs a big mouthful of the brandy then blinks in surprise. “That’s good sh... stuff!” He drinks the rest of the cup more slowly.
“So I guess we’re here ‘cause you showed up Hizzoner’s little show the other day and we wanted to see what’s up. But yeah, after that, there’s something else, too.”
Barkot pauses a moment for another sip of brandy. We didn’t talk about this, but it’s the right move. At least, I think it is. Better see what he wants first.
Nikulaie smiles and nods in acknowledgement of Squint's compliment. "Nothing but the best for my friends. I am sure it is better than whatever Chelaxian swill they serve inside of your Highcleft manors, eh?"
He chuckles lightly at Barkot's reaction, and responds. "That? Just a tip of the hat. You were being feted by Grobaras and the rest of the elite. I wanted you all to know that Lowcleft appreciates your accomplishment, even though they weren't allowed to attend the festivities."
Spreading his hands, he welcomes Barkot to continue. "Please, if there is some way I can help my friends, let me know."
Deric remains standing. Still a little uneasy from the cheek kissing thing which he wiped away immediately. He helps himself to the brandy while listening intently to the others.
"Right. Thanks." Barkot looks uncomfortable at the gang leader's praise, but soldiers on.
"So, here's the thing: we're gonna be out of town for a little while. Don't know how long, maybe a couple of weeks? Maybe a month?" Gods, I don't know, I've never gone anywhere before! "And while we don't think those blue derros are gonna be a problem anymore, we don't know if somebody or something else might try to, uhhh, take their spot, if you know what I mean? So I was thinking, maybe you and yours, you might wanna keep your eyes open for anything weird like that. I don't mean go looking for trouble, just watch out for our people, huh? And if it's something we oughtta handle when we get back to town, that's what we'll do."
Leaning back and chuckling, he clasps his hands before him. "Ah, Barkot. I think you might care more about this city than even I do. Information is power, my friend. Of course I will keep my eye out for strange goings-on, though obviously my skill pales before your own when it comes to threats like these derro."
He gets a sly look and looks directly at Barkot. "Perhaps we should meet more regularly? I can always find use in the sharing of information, and perhaps you can find some value in access to my many friends within the city?"
He smiles again, including the others again. Yet, Barkot feels that the man is still talking directly to him. "Leaving the city? A shame. I would never ask you to leave this wonderful city, though I am sure you have good reasons to kneel before your current nobles.
Hmmm, yes, well maybe I can still help my friends out by putting them in touch. I have another friend, an artist here within the city. Her work is... unusual, yet my wife is fascinated with her. This artist is looking for someone to do research and is willing to pay well for it. If you are heading out of the city, perhaps you can stop in and speak with her. If there is a chance your travels will take you near places of interest to her, the meeting will be mutually beneficial."
Barkot looks down at the table and grimaces, then turns back to Nikulaie and growls, all of the polish he has been trying to add to his speech gone. “Ain’t none of us kneelin’ ta nobody, pal. Somethin’ big is comin’, we’re tryin’ ta get ready for it. Dat’s all.”
He grins to take some of the sting away. “But yeah, might be wort’ comparin’ notes ev’ry now an’ den. An’ I t’ink dat ya care ‘bout da city plenty - leastways, da part dat don’t get no pertection from da guards. Wouldn’ta said nuttin’ if I didn’t.”
Looking at the other Pathfinders around the table, he adds, “If we c’n help out yer friend while we’re on our udder job, dat would be fine - right, guys?”
Deric nods at Barkot before finishing off his brandy.
Nikulaie moves his hands in a placating gesture. "Of course. It was a poor choice of words, nothing more." He eyes the foreign elf, the Korvosan warrior, and the nobly adorned halfling, then returns his gaze to Barkot. "I am sure that we all understand the pitfalls of common Magnimarians getting messed up with the intrigue of the upper class."
He waves away the thought. "No more of that. The artist, Ayavah, has her workshop in one of the pilings in Underbridge." He gives directions that are easy to follow. "Visit her if you have the time. If not, I take no offense. Please, all of you, feel free to visit me at any time. If I am not here, you may ask for me and I will find you."
He smiles cordially as he stands, "Now, I have other matters to attend to, so I shall leave you to enjoy your drinks as you see fit." He waits for a moment to see if there was anything else the party wanted to talk about before heading out the door, his bodyguards falling in behind him.
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Squint considers five or six different questions that likely will cause more trouble for their party from Nikulaie, opens his mouth, and blurts:
"No thank you very much the brandy was great and it is nice to be friends." He then closes his mouth like he's taken a sip to too-hot coffee and offers a weak smile.
Killing the game.
Heading over to Underbridge, deep in the shadows of the Irespan, the party approaches one of the shorebound pilings. Above a door leading into the piling is a sign that marks Ayavah's workshop.
Entering, the party is plunged into near darkness. Whatever the original purpose of the room, windows were not essential, and the showroom is lit only by a few candelabra, giving the room a foreboding ambiance. As their eyes adjust, the party begins to take in the artwork on display.
Hanging from the walls are several paintings featuring attractive and scantily dressed men an women, some of them with bat-like wings spread out from their back. The figures all have an expression of lust on their faces, though the lighting gives the scenes a frightening undertone.
Spread out in display cases throughout the room are small sculptures depicting more of the bat-winged women wrestling with humans and with other bat-winged women. With a bit of closer examination, it becomes clear that the figures are not wrestling, but are actively involved in various sexual acts.
Drapes in the back of the room screen off a more well-lit area. A voice calls out. "I'll be with you in just a minute"
"Appears we have, Squint."
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"Frolicking succubi and incubi, obviously," Barkot says. "I mean, I assume that's what they're supposed to be. Based on the descriptions I've read in boring old tomes about fiends. Not like I've ever seen pictures of them. I just read those books for the articles."
“Good eye, Paë! The crown and moon thing, that’s the symbol of some kinda Noticula cult. They think she’s trying to leave her demonic nature behind and ascend to true godhood as a patron of --“ he waves a hand around at all the paintings and sculptures “-- artists and outcasts. But because most of her followers are, y’know, demon worshippers, they think these folks are the heretics.”
He shrugs. “Not like I’ve got any inside info, but from what I’ve read and heard, I don’t think she’s made it out of the Abyss yet. Anyway, it does tie this side job into what Jasper was rambling on about, which is pretty creepy considering we didn’t know we were coming here until we met up with Nik, after we talked to Jasper.”
As the party examines this artwork, the light increases momentarily, as the curtain is drawn aside and Ayavah walks out. She is short and skinny. She is likely in her twenties, but looks younger due to her stature. She is wearing an artist's smock flecked with dust and shards of rock and has an odd conical hat on her head.
Seeing the picture the party is currently examining, she approaches with a smile. "Taming the Beast. One of my favorites, honestly. Something about the eyes of the boy in the back haunt even me. His innocence, gazing on the lurid state of his elders. But, is he as innocent as he appears? The smirk is out of place with those eyes.
Sometimes, the art even surprises the artist."
Barkot peers at the figure Ayavah points to, but doesn't immediately see anything more surprising than the demonic orgy. "I, uh, sure. Don't know much about art myself, but you, hrmmm, make interesting use of some of these symbols." He points to the seven-pointed crown and moon, then shakes his head. "Probably ought to get to the point of why we're here: Nikulaie asked us to see if we could help you out with something, but he didn't say what."
Ayavah glances around nervously as Barkot mentions the symbology, but quickly attempts to cover it up.
She stammers as she begins to say something, but let's out a sigh as she heard Nikukaie's name. "Good, I am glad Nikulaie was able to find some explorers. I will have to make something special as a thank you."
She gestures around the studio. "It is no secret that my muse is the form of the succubus. I have been successful with this subject soon far, but I need more inspiration.
I've been doing research. Did you know that the former rulers of Thassilon, these ... Runelord ... were powerful enough the enlist the service of extraplanar creatures? One particular Runelord, Sorshen, the Runelord of Lust, is rumored to have had succubi in her service.
I have found several sites that were important to Sorshen."
She names several locations, The Lady's Light being one of them. "If you find any items of particular connection to succubi, or better yet, make some rubbings of images that depict how succubi interacted with the Thassilonians, I will pay well."
Deric smiles hearing Squint's comment. "Well, then. Let us be on our way. It was a pleasure meeting you, ma'am." Deric carefully works his way out of the shop.
“Yeah, I think we might go by one or two of those places on our next trip. We’ll try to bring you back something good.”
Barkot tries to keep it together until they leave the shop before he bursts out laughing.
When they return to Stately Heidmarch Manor, he gives their new traveling companion an appraising look. “So, Jasper, are you sure you still want to come with us? Do you have any traveling gear?”
Ayavah forces a light chuckle with an expression of long suffered indignity at Squint and Paeral's interaction, then simply waves as the party exits and she returns to her current work.
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Underneath his rags, Jasper is wearing rusty, but capable armor and his impressive heavy flail is still strapped to his back. His pack and bedroll are none too clean and do appear to be lightly packed. It is doubtful that the pack contains much food. He stands as the party approaches.
After Barkot's question, his eyes shift to focus to a point a few feet away from anyone and he pauses as if listening for a few seconds. "Yes, I agree. Whatever we don't have we probably won't need. If we do, mayhaps we'll find it."
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"Yeah, I'm sure whatever we find'll be great. Maybe just in case, I'll pick up some extra traveling rations for you. We'll just carry them on..." Barkot turns to grin at the other Pathfinders, "... my new donkey!"
He leads the group - including Jasper - to the Heidmarchs' stables, where one of the stalls is occupied by an ill-tempered donkey. It appears to be well-fed, but it has obviously seen some action, with scars from healed burns and arrow punctures on its flanks, and what looks like a bite taken from one of its ears.
"This is the Nag of Holding. Bought her off another Pathfinder who was passing through, a halfling from Cassomir. Wouldn't shut up afterwards, talking about all the adventures he had been on with this donkey. For such a little guy, he talked real big."
After introductions are made, Barkot buys another 20 days of rations from the quartermaster and loads them into the donkey's pack saddle.
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Squint gives a affected little clap as he sees the donkey. Afterwards, he gets a sad and somewhat-absent look on his face.
"Ah. Yes. Now is likely the best time for me to....um, have a word with my own traveling companion. *ahem* Ok, everyone. I'll need a moment here..."
Squint begins the ritual required to call his eidolon to the Material Plane, his hands quivering only a little bit as he does so.
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"There had better be a sincere apology as the first thing out of your gob..." Ulyi's growl begins to fill the space within the Heidmarch stables, eliciting squeals of concern from the Nag of Holding as the bipedal axe-beak-esque Ulyi apparates onto the Material Plane.
Ulyi stares at Squint, beak wide open. He takes in the considerable make-up, the well-tailored and cut pantaloons in wine-coloured velour, the lace-festooned blouse with the billowy sleeves, and the powdered wig.
You all can't tell if that last adage is an insult or compliment, but the way Squint begins to laugh and smile, you assume that something positive is happening here.
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"Where's mine??" Ulyi demands. At the flummoxed head shake from the halfling, the eidolon doubles-down.
"Listen here, you cod-faced liver-twit. I am twelfth circle lineage of Llourith and pan-lute officiant. I lock step with the Aqua String Troupe and have lead the Light Charge three times during Effervesce Night without a dropped lantern. I will not look COMMON riding into battle with your glimmering candy-ass on my back without some BLING. Now, where is mine????"
Jasper stares after the departed Squint, then glances at the rest of the party. Tapping his head, he opines, "There is something not quite right about that halfling. We should be careful around him"
Laughing loudly, he begins a conversation with the Nag, instructing it in the three known dangers of the Mushfens.
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"Hee-HAAAWWW!"
Barkot stares at Jasper as the prophet jabbers at the donkey before realizing that the “three dangers of the Mushfens” he is talking about are dangers that may be of immediate and material consequence to Barkot and his fellow Pathfinders. The half-orc sidles closer to the Nag of Holding to hear what Jasper has to say about these “three dangers.”
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Sometime in the next three to four hours, Squint and a full-sized piñata reappear. Ulyi has been festooned with feathers and plumes of multiple-different colours, ornate gilded leather straps that form racing stripes down the flanks, and monstrously-large false eyelashes.
"We are ready to go!" Squint announces triumphantly.
"...and hiding in ambush behind the quicksand was a fearsome beast. Looked like a lion with the wings of a dragon, and it shot vicious spikes from its tail.
Fortunately, I was able to run faster than my companions on that trip, and I never saw the creature again"
Jasper breaks off his tale as he watches Squint and Ulyi approach. Noticing Barkot standing nearby, he steps closer and asks. "Do you see that too? It is real, right? I don't feel the headaches..."
The party proceeds to the docks and boards the Wanton Ways, a trade vessel that makes a monthly run between Riddleport, Magnimar, and Korvosa.
The captain is a human woman named Yarnelle Fessender, who has often worked with Lady Heidmarch in the past and thus was amenable to the request even though the vessel is heavily laden.
There is barely enough room on board for the party and the donkey, making for an uncomfortable two days on board, but fortunately the trip is uneventful.
Near dawn on the second day, the party wakes to see The Lady's Light appearing out of the mist. The enormous statue of a beautiful woman holds aloft a gigantic magical flame that allows the statue to be used as lighthouse, whatever its original purpose might have been.
The reefs around the cape make it impossible for the ship to approach very close, but Captain Fessender makes anchor and uses the ship's boats to ferry the party and their supplies to shore just to the north of the map.