Once they were outside, Xander doubled back to the front of the Chandlery and used chalk to post a warning on the front door.
DANGER. DO NOT ENTER.
"Someone's going to have to destroy that golem sooner or later." he said, a little worried.
As everyone leaves the chandlery, the afternoon's sun is beginning to fade toward twilight. Xander's warning notice sprawls across the storefront's door, foreboding in the shadows beginning to lengthen. A couple of eyes flit the party's way, but enough people were at the protest earlier that it seems your presence is generally known, and while they may not be entirely trusting looks, they're not overtly suspicious, either.
---------------
Vandrare walks behind the party, his manner subdued. As the group crosses the bridge and turns toward Shade Row, he suddenly speaks out.
I...I don't know if I can do this anymore. You guys saw me back there - I...choked. When I saw that fey, I just panicked...and those shadows...Sure, I could handle Ilquis tied up and tangled in that net, but... He takes a deep breath and collects himself as you arrive at the inn's front doors. I'm no good to you guys like this. I'll just stay here, help keep an eye on Shogunto. He sounded pretty worried when we were first getting to the chandlery - I think he could use the extra eyes, and the company. I'm sorry.
The group enters the inn, and Vitali looks up from the table leg he looks to be repairing. I saw your friend return earlier - he looked pretty worried - His eyes take in Vandrare's somber expression and grow even more serious. What's the matter? Is everything all right? No...your business is your own; I won't pry. Just...if you need anything, let us know.
---------------
Opening Shogunto's door, you're greeted by a disturbing sight - the disembodied head of a giant, floating in a corner with a vicious look on its face. Shogunto sits on the bed staring at what looks to be an old scar on his arm; the blue glow in his eyes has faded, and several of his more intricate tattoos seem to have disappeared. He looks up as you enter. Well, this is why I had to leave. It's a long story, but suffice it to say, the thing's bound to me. Ordinarily I can use my magics to bind him and carry him inside my body...but something's gone wrong.
He's still under my control - he won't hurt anyone - but I can't hide him, and I won't parade him around town in front of a bunch of strangers. I'm just glad I made it in here before I lost control entirely...We'll just stay here; if you need anything of me, just come by and ask.
Vandrare walks past everyone and plops onto his bed in the room he shares with Shogunto. You won't be staying alone. I'll join you, make sure you're able to get what you need. And I'll let you know what's happened - things...got a little interesting at the candle-maker's.
---------------
A few moments' inspection confirm that Shogunto truly is skilled at spellcraft; he understands the magics in the potions and ring you discovered with barely a moment's inspection. Ah, yes, I recognize the potions - I've used a fair few in my day, when the need has arisen. They'll keep you from leaving a trail, if you wish not to be followed. And the ring contains magics to aid you in climbing, help you find handholds and footholds.
Milo makes a bemused/grossed-out/creeped-out face at the sign of the head, but merely nods. "....yeeees," he says. "Van should be able to guard you. Just... sit tight, the both of you; we'll try to keep you updated."
Milo looks a touch greedily at the ring, but makes no move to reach for it right away. "There's two ways of thinking, for a bit of treasure like this," he says. "Some say it ought to go to the person most likely to be climbing, to make them more skilled at it- a scout, perhaps-- others say it ought to go to the one who's at most risk of falling, due to not being a very good climber." Milo grins a little at that.
"I can see both sides of the debate, but what do you all think?"
"Give us a few minutes. Xander had said to Vitali as they arrived at the inn. "We'll fill you in when we come back from our rooms."
In contrast to Milo, Xander seemed a bit surprised at first, but adjusted back to calm acceptance as soon as he realized the floating head was not a threat.
He had cousins who would have slain the thing simply for being undead and nearby, but Xander was a lot more pragmatic than most of his family. He simply wasn't as devout. He'd been chosen by Pharasma, not the other way around. That meant when her dogma became too restrictive he could ignore it. If she didn't like it she could tell him about it later.
"Just keep out of sight. We'll check on you later. If you need anything, send Vandrare."
As Milo discussed the options for the potion, Xander threw in his thoughts. "You take it. The person climbing first has the hardest job. Everyone else can rely on them to anchor a rope."
After leaving Van with Shogunto, the party met with Vitali briefly.
"We found the Guard Captain's child, as well as a couple other people. There were a few people who weren't so lucky. The chandlery was a charnel house. It is still dangerous. There's an active golem inside set to protect the place. We're going to see about getting the town guard to set a watch on the place. In the mean time, tell people to steer clear."
"We're going to speak with the mayor next."
As Xander relates their experiences, Vitali's already grey-skinned face somehow grows even more ashen, and his piercing yellow eyes go wide with shock. Midnight Lord preserve us...it was Catalina kidnapping all those people? I would never have imagined her capable of such a thing... He pauses and collects himself.
Of course, I'll warn everyone. Ionela must be told - the mayor of Shade Row, so much as we have one - she'll be able to make sure the word spreads among our people...you said you'd be telling those in the town proper? Guard Captain Groy should know...but he will already of course, if you found little Olya his home would be the first place you stopped...and...
...you'll take it to the Baron? With how strangely he's been acting toward us lately...you should be the ones. I don't know how he'd react if it was one of us kayal who told him.
I can't even imagine - what would make Catalina do such terrible things? He shakes his head in wonder at all the news.
"I don't think she was in her right mind. She'd become enthralled by some kind of... fey creature. She thought what she was doing would somehow save people from Tallowthroat. We killed the creature, but it was too late for Catalina."
"Tell who you need to, but caution restraint. More mob justice won't help us. We will keep trying to get to the bottom of all this."
Of course - you've seen how things are for us kayal right now. Inciting panic is the last thing we want, especially if it's got anything to do with the plague. If we aren't cautious, people will be saying next that it's proof positive the sickness is our attempt at revolt, like Nicasor's coup so long ago...
I'll speak to Ionela; if you wish to speak with her yourselves, I can bring her now? But perhaps it's best if you went on...Baron Stepan should hear of this, as soon as possible.
Vitali bares his left arm, where a thin bracelet of chain with several small barbs on it hangs. He twists the bracelet and winces slightly as the barbs dig into his skin, then presses his hands against his heart and releases the twist. Dark times we are in...may the Dark Prince protect you.
"Hopefully it won't take too long. We'd be happy to meet with her when we get back."
I'll speak with her, then; she's in here most evenings. You should get on with dealing with all of this...luck go with you. Vitali turns back to his work, with a nod.
"Well, if we think going to Groy might not make things worse and spur another round of mob violence," Milo says with a shrug. His default response is never to go to law enforcement, but he won't argue the will of the others.
Continuing on, the group turns back toward Captain Groy's house/office, intending to update him on the latest developments. They find Groy still at his house, staring with tenderness at his recently-returned daughter as she plays with a pair of dolls on the floor of the house's sitting room. Back...anything you need? he asks with a distracted air, his eyes never leaving Olya.
The litany of names seems to stun Captain Groy into a moment of clarity. All- all those, you say? It explains their disappearances at least...I'll get my men, station guards at the candle-maker's. You said the - the bodies were still there? Wait...how did you enter, if the entry is guarded?
"Back door. Be careful. It is still trapped. I disabled it, but it could still be dangerous. Honestly, I'd recommend just staying out of the place entirely until the golem inside can be dealt with."
Staying out it is, then; I'll muster guards. And...thank you again for all your help. You didn't have to, but you did. Anything else?
"If things go the way I think they might, there's going to be more tension between the town and Shade Row. I don't think the Fetchlings are behind Tallowthroat. I just think they have a natural immunity. We'll need you to help keep order. No more mobs, please. It will only make our work harder."
B-but - there was no hint of this disease until those fetchling servants were let go! Even the Baron himself doesn't trust them - they must have done something to force his hand in dismissing them! Karpad learned its lesson from the first fetchling revolt so long ago; we won't be taken for fools - He pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath. Fine. I'll make sure the word is spread to let the fetchlings be. But I warn you, if you're wrong, if they put one toe out of line...well, I'll do what must be done to make sure my wife and daughter are safe. His words end with a ringing conviction. Now, you'd better go. You're right, the Baron should hear of this. Maybe murders will finally bring his Lordship down from the manor...
Captain Groy sends you off with a terse nod, his mood slightly soured by mention of the fetchling town but still amiable enough. Olya plays with her dolls, setting one in her lap to comb its yarn hair; as she sets it down, she notices a large chunk of wax still stuck to her skirt, and she begins to tremble slightly. As you depart, Lucian kneels to the floor and picks up the little girl, gathering her close in his arms.
---------------
From the Captain's house, your now-familiar path crosses back through town and across the river. Now, though, you face a turn you haven't yet made - left at the end of the bridge, instead of right toward the ramshackle buildings of Shade Row.
The left path is a long, narrow cobblestone lane, snaking along the bank of the river and up the hill. It ends at a large stone manor house, easily the largest and oldest building in town, dwarfing even the Kuthite cathedral. The main building seems to be built in a roughly octagonal shape, with a dip in the roof suggesting a central courtyard and extensions jutting into excavations in the side of the hill to the south and east. No fewer than six bonfires and a host of torches blaze around the manor, their flickering light simultaneously inviting and foreboding in the gathering shadows of twilight. But the manor's glory days seem long past; the dimming sunlight and dancing torch lights only highlight the flaking paint and crumbling eaves of a once-palatial estate in decline.
Stained glass windows above and beside the double-door entrance show evidence of light and movement inside what is presumably an antechamber, and a few of the other windows are faintly illuminated as well, though many and more are dark and still. One of the illuminated windows is in the east extension; a small wood door sits open near it, and a torchlight bobs around inside a large fenced-in area surrounding door, window, and wall.
"I think this place had seen better days..."
Xander nodded. "It was picturesque when it was built. Fortress-style, on a hill, built as a defensive center point for what would eventually become this town. A beacon of prosperity, once upon a time."
"Looks like it's a different sort of beacon now."
Milo again slips into a tense silence as they approach the manor house, his fingers drumming against the basket hilt of his rapier.
"Someone's moving over there," he points out, gesturing towards the bobbing torchlight. "Take a look quietly, or just walk over there as though we have every right to be here?"
"We do have every right to be here." Xander said about as haughtily as he'd ever sounded, continuing to move forward and trying to spot the person Milo had seen.
As the torchlight to the east continues to bob around, intermittent barks and howls can be heard from its direction, confirming that the fenced-in area is most likely a dog kennel. The closer you approach, the more frequent the barks become; finally, as you close the last bit of distance, you can hear a man's voice speaking with rough, jocular affection amid the rapid baying, as well as the opening of a gate latch. Oh, you mutts always think two dinners is your natural right. Mist, keep an eye on your fool pups - you tell them they'll get dinner at dawn, like they always do. I tell you, Mist, these pups of yours were easier when you were the one feeding them.
The gate slams shut and the torchlight bobs around the side of the house toward the front door. As it gets closer, you can see the man bearing it isn't actually carrying it - instead, the apparently sourceless flame circles his head, leaving his hands free. It reveals a pale grey face with light green eyes that seem almost to give off their own light to rival the magic flame, surrounded by a halo of lines and crow's feet; the fading sunlight reveals a powerfully built frame only slightly gone to seed with age.
Closing the distance, he extends a muscular hand in a friendly gesture. I thought there must be something setting those hounds to barking. Well, besides their indignation that the copious feeding I give them every night and morning is clearly not enough. He smiles, deepening the faint laugh lines across his forehead. Name's Gavril, servant to his Lordship the Baron of Karpad. What is it brings you up the hill this evening? Most folks are already well inside by the time the Midnight Lord's veil is gathering...and I don't think you're from around here; at least, you aren't familiar to me.
Milo gives the man a shade-born a nod. "You're right: we are new to town. I am Milovic Draznoi, of Nisroch-- I am an old friend of the baroness's. We were passing through the region on business, and I decided my entourage and I might detour, and pay my respects to the Lady Anya. And yet, it seems the baron is not receiving visitors...? With a plague in town I suppose he can't be too careful."
In a slightly lower voice, Milo adds on, "Vitali sends his regards."
This Gavril seems cheerful and cordial enough-- concerned with nothing deeper than his hounds. Under the circumstances, Milo finds that a little suspicious-- everyone else in town is clearly paranoid, either of plague or public sentiment turning against them, but not this chap? He eyes Gavril shrewdly.
...or not so shrewdly.
Vitali? So I take it you didn't come too directly up here, then. It's curious - most visitors would choose Karpad's inn over a stay in Shade Row. Not that Vitali doesn't set a good board or keep good rooms - but the look of the Row does tend to make most look the other way.
I'm not surprised my cousin's concerned - the plague's weighed on His Lordship heavily. He's stopped all but essential communication with Karpad; I think he's worried about exposing messengers to the sickness, or worried that people would suspect his messengers of spreading it further. That's the story, you know, that it's members of His Lordship's household who began the plague's spread. The rumors have hit His Lordship hard - he's tense, withdrawn, morose, almost as if he's starting to believe the rumors that the plague's his fault.
I don't mean to worry everyone, but I just haven't been able to get messages out as often as usual, and sentiment toward my kind in town hasn't exactly made visits a good idea. It's good of you to convey my cousin's wishes. He pauses for a moment. There weren't, by chance, any other messages to bring along, were there?
Ah, but don't mind me; I'm not the one you're here to see. His Lordship hasn't been entertaining anyone, not even the staff unless he must, but the Lady Anya may give audience; this last month must have been lonesome for her. If you've only been in town a short time, there's little chance you'll bring the sickness in, and we've had members of the household sick already anyway. It's time to get inside, I think; the hour grows late.
"Well, there was Sergei," Milo amends after Kinvara says there was nobody else in particular. "But no... particular messages, I don't think..."
"Thank you, we would be glad to be within four walls. It is not wise, to test our Midnight Lord's patience overmuch by traveling about at night. And I should be glad to see my old friend again."
Someone to carry a message to? If you've the time, messages to Vitali and a couple others in Shade Row would be most kind. Quick note to my mother, perhaps even a stop at the bakery in the Row for one of Helena's poppy-seed pastries - no one makes them like her. And one other...a human woman, I don't know if you would have crossed paths with her if you've been in the Row. Irina Valanova - an old friend of mine, and loyal to His Lordship. I don't want her to be concerned about the Baron.
"Oh boy, this will not be great news for him."
"I think it is best that we all go inside to talk."
Of course; silly me, keeping you all out here with small talk. Gavril leads you to the door, swinging the ornate brass knocker on its front. Several seconds pass - and nothing happens, so he tries again. Laurentiu, I know you're there. Open up, it's Gavril!
At Gavril's shout, the door finally swings open to reveal an older man, his face stern behind a thick grey beard. He is dressed formally, in a crimson waistcoat and dark trousers, but the loose threads at the cuffs suggest that the uniform has seen better days. Gavril? What are you doing out front instead of coming in through the kennel door? Then his eyes fall on the party and his demeanor instantly changes - more formal and more nervous.
Ah, terribly sorry, but Baron Boroi is accepting no visitors at the present time-
Gavril cuts in. They aren't here for his Lordship - it's the Lady Anya they're here to see. He gestures toward Milo with a nod. He's a childhood friend of the Lady's, and they came to pay a visit.
Ah - of course, Laurentiu answers with a nod and waves you into the antechamber. The dark-painted walls are draped in several flags and banners, all displaying the same arms, a red bear against a black sky with stars; between the banners are several well-painted portraits of dour-faced nobles scowling at the room's goings-on. Two towering statues flank the manor's entrance, both of stern men carrying weapons - the one carrying a sword is missing a nose, and the one carrying a whip is missing both ears. Thick, ornate rugs cover a significant portion of the floor, but they do little to warm up the gloom of the entryway.
Right this way, ladies and gentlemen. Laurentiu bows formally to the party, with only the slightest hint of shock at Kinvara's wasted features beneath her deep hood. At the back of the antechamber, he opens a door leading to a courtyard that once could have been called grand, though the grass and weeds pushing up the crumbling cobblestones surrounding the murky, trickling fountain leave it far from grand today.
At the back of the courtyard is another door, this one leading into a sitting room. The walls are covered in red wallpaper with intricate floral designs in gold leaf. A pleasantly musty smell, like old books, pervades the room, and plush leather armchairs surround a low table. Have a seat, visitors, Laurentiu says with a nod. I shall inform the Lady Anya of your presence, and return with some light refreshment if you wish. What name shall I announce? he asks, looking to Milo.
that water looks polluted...
Milo winces a bit at Gavril's words of the woman he should like a message from. He darts a glance at the others, trying to decide if they should break the rotten news to Gavril or not, but... for the moment, perhaps best not to rock the boat. Poor chap.
Inside the house, Milo draws himself up. "Milovic of House Draznoi," he says in his best impression of the way his father would have said the words. No matter that, technically, he has only a dubiously legal claim on the family name-- being born outside the sheets with a scullery maid as he had been-- his father's blood is still in his veins, and he'll take what he can from the old bastard. "I also bear word from Lady Anya's mother, her grace Lady Anneliese Tiboros, Daughter of the Fourth House of Shadow, Heir of the Onyx Circlet."
Kinvara's knowledge of the natural world and the workings of anatomy does little to clear up the fountain's mystery, in her mind or in fact. Perhaps its source is more esoteric in origin?
--------------------
At the names, Laurentiu suddenly straightens even further, if it's possible. Of course, sir. I cry your pardon - your dress belied your station, and remote as we are from Nisroch...well, forgive me, but I had heard of no new heir to the noble Draznoi name. Excuse me; I shall retrieve Her Ladyship immediately.
With a final stiff bow, Laurentiu backs out of the sitting room, leaving you alone with Gavril, who sinks into one of the chairs. Well, seems the task of entertaining falls to me for a moment. So - unpleasantness in town, you were saying? Beg your pardon, ma'am, but you look to have known some past troubles yourself; if you say it was unpleasant, I certainly believe you. I've some cousins who I'd believe were stirring up a ruckus, but Sergei and Vitali certainly weren't the ones I'd have thought it of. What happened? It's clear that, with his isolation, Gavril is hungry for news (or gossip, whichever you may call it).
Milo gives Laurentiu a short, haughty nod, but sinks into a chair as soon as the butler leaves the room. His gaze resettles on Gavril; Milo debates to himself a moment, then leans forward in his chair, elbows on his knees.
"...listen, Gavril," he begins awkwardly. "The Irina you mentioned... we... have seen her..."
Much as Milo might like to pretend otherwise, he does have a conscience, of sorts. And perhaps spending time around Xander has brought it out more. Either way, the thought of just chatting amiably with the man while knowing his lady-friend is dead sits poorly with Milo, despite his previous desire not to rock the boat.
"I... I'm sorry to tell you this, but I'm afraid your friend... isn't with us any longer." He runs a hand through his hair. "There are troubles in town, more than the sickness. Sheriff Groy has asked us to try and help ferret out the trouble. We found a-- a creature-- that had taken people from the town... including Irina... and..." Milo spreads his hands apologetically.
"...I suppose it's cold comfort, but I can tell you that the thing suffered when it died," he adds on softly.
The young Nidalese man clears his throat, trying to give the kayal a few moments to wrestle with this revelation.
Irina...she's dead? But I just saw her - I managed to sneak away for a few hours, a week or so ago...I had to sneak away when her friend Catalina came for lunch... His head drops into his hands. It's because of me, isn't it? She said things had been getting worse, that her people were blaming the kayal for the sickness, and kayal-human pairings are frowned upon at the best of times, but she didn't care... Or was it that foul husband of hers? He never cared about her, she told me so...but I'd never have imagined him being able to take his hand to her...
But no, you said...a creature of some kind. What kind of creature? And what could it possibly have wanted with my Irina?
After a few more moments, he manages to pull himself together, though it's still a watery look he gives you. Well, thank you for your decency in telling me. And you said the creature's received its due? It is cold comfort, as you say, but it is still a comfort...I'll ask one more thing of you, though. Keep it quiet. I'd have her remembered for good qualities, not just fodder for the gossips, and with me being who I am I'd be run out of town, or worse, if they got proof positive about the affair.
He falls silent for several seconds, looking up when Kinvara adds her own comment. Why he's closed off the manor? I wish I did. But we hardly even see His Lordship anymore. He's locked himself in his study - he doesn't even come out for meals. He just stays in there all day and night, poring over old books about the Shadow Realm, esoteric family histories, treatises on the Kuthite church's past...
Part of me wonders whether any of this would have happened if Iozif had succeeded his father instead of Stepan. Iozif was the strong one; he never would have crumbled under the pressure like Stepan has. But both Stepan's brothers are in the churchyard next to their father, dead practically from some mysterious illness - little good it does to wonder now.
I truly couldn't say if it resembled anything - one day they were fine, the next they were gone, first Iozif and then Henric, both buried in the churchyard without even a wake. I suppose in that, it's little like tallowthroat - tallowthroat victims tend to linger, fade slowly.
What would Baron Stepan's studies of the Shadow Realm have to do with the illness? I don't underst- Gavril's response is cut off by the sound of the door handle; the door opens a few moments later to reveal the majordomo Laurentiu.
A woman stands at his side, slender of build and features, with thick auburn curls cascading over the shoulders of her finely embroidered, slim-cut gown. The gown's sleeves end short, halfway down her upper arm; elaborate traceries of scars spiral up her exposed arms, and two fingers of her right hand are shorter than the others, removed above the first joint. A child stands beside her, fair-skinned with rich black hair growing in ringlets.
As she enters, her eyes scan intently, and when they rest upon Milo, she smiles, a warm expression that seems somewhat out of place against the cold, dying grandeur of the manor. She bustles forward and embraces Milo heartily with a rich laugh. Milo! I almost didn't believe Laurentiu when he gave the name. It's been so long! And the rest of you - I can't believe Mother sent so many simply because my letters had stopped...oh, forgive me. Lady Anya Boroi. She curtsies genially, then ushers the child at her knee forward; he glances shyly at the collection of strangers, thumb straying toward his mouth. The little Lord Andric Boroi, heir to the Barony of Karpad...my son. Now come, what do you think of Karpad? Different from Nisroch, eh, Milo?
Milo rises swiftly at Anya's entrance, his heart momentarily in his throat. It's almost ten years since he last saw the girl-- well, woman-- that's come through the door, and in that time he's left being a teenaged dreamer behind and fancies himself quite the man-of-the-world, one who doesn't let a pretty face get to him. And yet...
They say you never really leave behind your first love. No matter how foolish or stupid one's hopes might have been, no matter how unrealistic that 'love', given their social stations, his own youthful naivete.
He drops into a little bow at Anya's entrance-- only to be taken off-guard when she greets him far less formally. The young man closes his eyes briefly at the embrace, daring a little touch to her shoulder in turn, and then draws back to look at her.
His eyes inevitably catalog the many scars... and the missing fingers. Though Milo's face remains in a bright smile, his stomach lurches queasily. Offerings to the Midnight Lord, no doubt. He thinks of those wretched, damned souls: the Joyful Things, they're called-- and a little sliver of ice trips down his spine.
He wonders if his colleagues would get on board with it they just knocked Anya out now, threw her into a wagon, and altogether left this thrice-blasted country behind for places with sunlight, and better gods. Sigh. Probably not.
"Anya," he murmurs with a throat clearing, when he can get in a word edgewise. "You're-- you seem well." (Missing fingers aside.) Milovic shrugs a little. "Well.... you know your mother. Besides, I wanted to see you my own self. I'm greedy that way."
He clears his throat, offering a small nod to the boy with conflicted feelings. What is the polite protocol for greeting the child of the woman you once had strong feelings for-- her child by another man? Ugh, you rotten little rugrat probably is not acceptable.
Remembering his manners, Milo straightens up and gestures to his colleagues. "My companions of the road, milady. Xander Ravencourt, of Ustalav; Kinvara Doone, and Titania Snow-fell."
He hesitates, unsure how to answer the question, how much even to let on. How deep in the baron's councils is she? Milo had expected to find her scared, miserable... or perhaps he had hoped to. He'd thought to find her here-- grateful for his presence-- and ready for a rescue... but Anya seems... very much at her ease. At least... superficially.
"Different...yes. There is the small matter of you being in a plague town," he says, trying for the old flippancy in his tone.
Xander had been quiet, occasionally muttering quietly, his eyes constantly scanning. Sometimes he did that. It wasn't that he was being antisocial. It was that he was trying to pay attention to two different worlds at a time and trying not to draw too much attention to himself. He was busy listening. This place was full of spirits. They were chatty. He was trying to single out the voices that actually made sense, all while trying to follow along with what his friends were talking about.
When the Baroness introduced herself and her son, Xander did his best to focus ont he physical world and bowed respectfully to them both, waiting for Milo to make introductions.