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Holan-Ji catches Maria carefully eyeing Hepsubia.
Man, I will never understand what goes on in those elven heads. Elven female heads at that. Nope, not even gonna speculate...
"Ooh! That place smells great! What's the name of that inn there?" he excitedly asks Ryado while stabbing a long arm in the direction of the mouth-watering aroma wafting into the carriage. "What? We can't fight on empty stomachs. And he just said, ahem, 'Vilk’s rampage must end tonight.'"
"The list of those Vilk blames is too long to make an educated guess," Erudyta says. "The victims are not limited to those who directly hurt him. Wanda Ortesi was the granddaughter of one of his old adventuring rivals. Another victim was the elven information broker who apparently directed Vilk and his band to the tomb where four of his companions died."
The carriage slows to a stop. "You are welcome to rest in the safehouse, here. It has few amenities--no oven or stove, I'm afraid--since it was originally a museum. But you must begin your search before the moon rises!"
He pauses in thought for a moment. "If anyone could guess Vilk's next move or where he might be Markov Rutowski, his former lover. She is a half-elf courtesan. Despite the urban decay, Ardis’s courtesans remain well insulated, and I lack the influence to even gain an audience with him. I understand Vilk’s exile was something of a black mark on Rutowski’s own career, and it likely remains a sensitive topic."
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Holan-Ji's ears perk up at the possibility of "interviewing" a courtesan, but he visibly deflates when it becomes clear that said courtesan is male. Then he realizes that he may have to take the lead anyway given the nature of the man's clientele. "We can start there, with Rutowski. Where do we find him? I guess I get us in the door, but maybe one of you gals do the talkin'?"
"Though the more I think about it, ain't it gonna seem weird that six* of us want an audience, and the majority are women? Is he even gonna see a group like us?"
"No. Your instincts are correct. It will take ingenuity, silver tongues, and even then maybe some coin to gain an audience with Master Rutowski," Erudyta says. "I can give you directions but little else."
Maria is aware of the proper etiquette for aristocracy of the region . She is also aware that some (all?) of you are not dressed appropriately to be calling upon a courtier .
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Time for some new clothes? Why not? Does the nobility like exuberance?Cause we do, Tygger, don't we? Let's find the most outlandish costume, garish jewellry, for lets say, 500 gold worth, and the loser pay for a night of revelry for both.
Sensing Maria disappointment before she even put it to words, Hepsubia adds
After the mission, of course. And if anyone is short on cash, just ask, I have enough, or I can find some if needed.
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Effie takes Maria's advice - by jangling the bangles on her forearms. Suddenly, instead of her colourful circus performer's outfit, she is clad in an elegant sky-blue form-fitting gown!
"I think I need some new jewels to accentuate my outfit. What colour goes with this, do you think Maria? Have you any idea what's in-season hereabouts, Erudyta?"
"You might be mugged if you wear that much jewelry," Erudyta says to Hepsubia.
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"Sorry, Hep, but I'm tryin' to save up for some cool gear," he says with an indulgent laugh. "I'm not gonna go blow 500 G on an outfit I'll only wear once. But those," he points to Effie's bangles, "that's not a bad idea, especially given how many times we gotta dress up for these missions."
He then gets the name of a magical gear seller from Erudyta to get himself some of those sleeves. But maybe ones made to look like sleeves and not sparkly and jangly bracelets. With those in place, he follows the girls shopping and copies the look of a nice men's outfit. And carries the girls' bags, of course, cause he's wise enough to know his place on this particular part of the mission.
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Maria sees the wisdom in her allies' purchases and steps up after Holan-Ji, "Urm, I'd like a set of those as well. If you have some left."
She picks a very unobtrusive style (as much as noble's clothes can be) to emulate as well, though adds a decorative pin on each lapel. The left side pin is three daggers pointing outwards from a circle. The right side pin is a feminine bronze mask.
Her eyes go wide at Effie's question, "Uh... fashion is not my forte. Sorry."
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"Hiya' Soddy," Holan-Ji greets the little leshy lady. "You a carnivore, vega-vore like Maria and Jobu, or a little bit a both? I'm not tryin' to pry, but one o' the things I do is find the best places for the team to eat, and I gotta account for everyone's tastes."
"Oh! Well, I really only need water and sunlight," Soddy answers. There's a slight pause and then she adds, "But sometimes it's fun to eat fleshy foods. Like tiny breads! I like tiny breads."
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"I'll buy some fancy sleeves too," Soddy resolves, agreeing that it's much better bang for the buck than buying a single, specific outfit. "Oh. And maybe we could use our group diversity to make meeting with us seem more fun?" The leshy shrugs. "I've heard some fleshys (and other beings) seem to enjoy that sort of thing."
Following a brief detour to a few different expensive shops, the Pathfinders navigate their way to the address provided by Eruditya.
A scraggly hedgerow and a thousand storms’ worth of water stains mar Rutowski’s otherwise beautiful townhouse. Wellworn marble steps lead to oaken double doors and an ornate, yellow bell pull.
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"So what's the plan?" Effie asks. "You know I want to say 'honesty is the best policy' here, right? Rutowski had some sort of intimate relationship with Vilk and might hate the man's guts or equally might still be in love with him, but either way his life's in danger and he needs to know.
If we're not already too late."
A protracted moment after Effie pulls the bell pull, the door latch clicks. The door swings open to reveal a middle-aged Taldan man in coattails and a powdered wig. His nose is aimed at the distant horizon, and his brown eyes scan each of you in rapid succession. There is only the tiniest of squints as he looks at Holan-Ji.
He clears his throat before saying, "My apologies, but Master Rutowski is not receiving visitors at this time."
He steps back and begins to close the door.
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"Pardon me, sir" Effie flashes her biggest circus-urchin smile "but we simply must see the esteemed Master Rutowski! Nobody else will do!" she gushes.
"We have it from a mutual friend that Master Rutowski knows better than anyone in the field how to handle a - not to be too delicate about it - a beast of a man" Effie gives a sideways smirk at Holan-ji "and we ladies just have to see!"
"It's not everyday you get a client like this, now is it? May we come in?"
"I'm terribly sorry," the man says. "As I said, Master Rutowski is not entertaining visitors this even--" He trails off as he listens to Effie in fascination.
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Holan-Ji picks up the cue from Effie and groans inwardly at the implication but does put on a smile for the "butler."
They said this guy's rep had taken a hit, so maybe he's answering' his own door and just pretendin' to be a butler.
[b]"Can you have him show us in, maybe," he suggests at Maria's question, before wincing at Hep's. [b]"Oh, you meant do that to him." His normally red tinted skin goes an even deeper shade of crimson at the thought of the girls doing those things to himself.
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"Easy does it, friends, easy does it..."
Effie gently slides past the butler whilst keeping her flirting going.
Once the pathfinders are all inside, Effie drops the act and gets serious. She closes the front door and and loses her smile.
"Master Rutowski's life is in imminent danger from a former lover of his. We're here to protect your master. So you'll have to forgive the ruse, please, it was a matter of discretion. You don't want strangers blabbing about your Master's affairs where just anyone could overhear it, naturally.
Please, show us to Master Rutowski. There's no time to lose!"
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Holan-Ji moves into the foyer of the townhouse, squeezing his massive frame through the door and past the "butler" without threatening the man. He does start to give a toothy grin, but then realizes that's probably a bad move given how large and sharp his teeth are. So he just smiles and nods pleasantly instead.
The butler raptly watches Effie as you squeeze and wiggle past him into the manor. Maria's pleas fall upon ears with no room for anything but Effie's words. However, to your right is an open doorway illuminated by several candles an lamps.
A fine-featured gentleman of mixed Taldan and Ustalavic descent reclines on a fainting couch, though his pointed ears and upturned eyes betray an even more exotic ancestry. He gently lays aside the book in his hand.
“You’re clearly not locals, nor are you expected. I know only Pathfinders to be so bold. Your fearless little Society has already taken enough from me. Leave or I will call the guards.”
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Maria looks quizzically at Hep, then speaks.
”I’m not the one to speak at length as to our reasons, but I can offer a very honest apology. Our actions were only taken because of the very high risk of imminent harm to you. Exigent circumstances required us to bend the rules of society. Effie will explain the clear and immediate danger.”
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Holan-Ji is the last to enter the room. He doesn't want to scare the frail man, and he really doesn't want the man to get the wrong idea about why they're here. But he figures he should at least try to help. He steps in behind Hep and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Yeah, you got the right of it, we're Pathfinders, and ain't nobody bolder than us. But like Hep says, we're here to help." He tries adding a reassuring smile, but it really doesn't help.
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"Master Rutowski" Effie bows, "as I was saying to your butler, the charade was for your sake. We may be bold, but we know where discretion is called for.
And now I must be blunt. Your former lover Vonran Vilk may be responsible for a string of murders in this town of late. Potentially embarrassing for the Society - but of greater concern for all of us is that this scenario is potentially lethal for you.
We know that each of the recent murder victims can be linked to Vilk in some way. It's entirely possible that an enemy of his is trying to frame him, but it's also possible that he's become infected with lycanthropy and isn't in full control of his faculties.
So you see Master Rutowski, our earnest desire is to ensure that you are not the next victim of the 'Midnight Mauler'. And if it is Vilk, then you're our best hope of finding him before he finds you.
Have you seen Vilk recently, Master Rutowski? Do you know where he might be found? And do you have the means to slip out of the city for a few days, somewhere safer?
Help us to help you, and prevent any more deaths. We'll see that justice is done."
Markow Rutowski looks to Hepsubia as she speaks and then looks expectantly at Maria with an irritated stare. He raises an eyebrow as Maria tries to pass his attention on to another speaker.
"Master! I apologize!" the butler says as he rushes to the sitting room once Effie's power over him fades. "I cannot explain what happened. I will resign immediately without pension."
Rutowski waves a hand at the butler, indicating for him to hold that thought as Holan-Ji mentions Pathfinders. This gives the ifrit enough time to catch the courtesan's attention.
Rutowski sighs and retakes his seat, gesturing to the other overstuffed chairs and divans that fill the room. "Forgive me. I sometimes forget that it was Ardis’s machinations that took my beloved away from me, and not the Pathfinder Society itself. I shall try to help you however I can."
He listens to Effie's questions. "My entire life is in Ardis—my experience, my clients, all my family’s property. I cannot simply leave Ardis." He shakes his head. "I have not seen Vonran since he left."
He is being deceitful about the last time he saw Vilk.
"I suppose so," Rutwoski sighs. "He stood where you stood just five days ago. He was ranting and raving, so full of hate. He was. . . so different from the Vonran I loved. Help him. Please."
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The elf frowns AGAIN.
Then calms herself and speaks, ”Sir. I know you know more. I know you know we know you know more. I completely understand your mistrust though, but we are the ONLY ones that want this to be handled peacefully and that are capable of doing so. We have a cure for what Mr. Vilk suffers from. And you have seen how convincing we can be. We can stop him and we think we can even save him. But we need to know what you know.”
"I'm not certain Vonran shouldn't have his revenge," Rutowski sighs. "There are a few poor souls left in Ardis I'm sure Vonran bears a grudge toward, though the worst offenders moved on decades ago to Caliphas. Politics. He turned a daughter of the Moulot family into a Pathfinder, and then she died on one of those damnable adventures of hers. Graverobbing is a crime in Ustalav, but banishment is a sentence reserved for those with enemies. Of all his remaining accusers, Judge Cevianna Pradowca is the worst. She bore a grudge against Vonran for refusing to wed her and so turned her courtroom into a weapon against him. When he was here, he was raving about Judge Pradowca and her lofty position. I wager he’ll hunt her next."
As if to punctuate the threat, an eerie howl can be heard faintly outside. The sun has finally set, and the moon is rising on Ardis.
Judge Pradowca’s courtroom lies in the city center, halfway across the city from Rutowski’s townhouse. You rush through the streets as the moon rises to reach the judge before Vilk in his cursed form murders the woman.
The black granite edifice of the courthouse looms high above its enclosing wall, though a gate ahead stands ajar. A scream breaks the evening’s silence, and upon the wide, stone steps two figures fall prone. A third, hulking form unleashes a furious howl before bounding to the roof and through an open skylight. The courthouse door stands ajar, and a low growling echoes from somewhere within.
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"Oh no ya' don't," Holan-Ji growl/mumbles rhetorically to the fleeing form as it disappears through the skylight.
"I just gotta keep him from killin' the judge until you all can catch up," he then says over his shoulder as his body shifts and changes. Two pair of long and spindly legs grow from his torso while gossamer wings of gold and red spread from his shoulder blades and begin fluttering with a deep bass hum.
He launches himself up from the street and zips straight over the wall and to the roof. Spying the open skylight, he rolls into an immelmann turn and dives through the skylight in hot pursuit.