"Good, Rilka. Your skills are invaluable, as is your spirit. The subterfuge and danger are wearing on Master Dalton. Lindale . . . actually, I don't know where Lindale is. Off in the city, I presume. You and I must do our best to keep everyone alive and out of trouble. If Heff plans to 'forget' to rescue Bjorkus, I'm developing a secondary plan. I'll speak to Ninnec about find some stencilers."
Bjorkus awakes to the cry of a seagull. He opens his eyes, seeing open sky and birds above him. The gentle rock of the sea lulls him, and he sees a dozen pirates gathered about him. Then he feels gentle hands brushing through his hair, soothing the lump that he got from falling. Looking up he sees his mother, realizing it was the same woman he was just chasing. She smiles, a warm motherly smile as she comforts her hurt son. Bjorkus then realizes he's no longer grown, but a child again. "My beautiful son, are you alright?"
After his conversation with Rilka, Toramin will call Ninnec back into the study.
"Ninnec, as you may have guessed, we are not slavers, nor are we particularly good spies. We are working to better the people of Akropash and end the strangle hold the slavers have on this city. I'm telling you this for several reasons. First, I respect your intellect. I;m likely not tell you something you don't already know. Second, I want you to benefit from my labors. Currently, I'm trying to develop a network of goods and educational services to uplift the people of this city. Are you interested in further education? Do you know others who are? Third, I do not want to deceive you. You deserve to know the dangers we face and why I go to such lengths to plan for our safety. With the information which you already possessed you could get us arrested. But, I don't believe you will. You have trusted us, and; we, in our turn, must trust you. Especially as we begin to ask more of your skills. Would you be able to discreetly get these stencils to people who would stencil them around the city -- no questions asked? We will provide you the gold to pay these people."
"Yix is a cat-folk who frequents the Circle of Stone. Anyone there will know who he is. Go. Do not bring more trouble to our door."
Ninnec shuffles his feet, looking down. "Yeah, but the work was easy and payed well so I didn't say anything." He listens carefully to the rest, looking scared and excited. "Yes, of course I would like to see the slaves get a better life...but I fear if we get caught." He thinks for a moment. "I know a few people who would help for payment."
"I fell", he says glumly. "It hurt."
~In response to Dalton~
Ninnec nods. "He is well known as the diplomatic face of Akropash. However he's gone in foreign territory so much he's rarely in the city. When you ask what he does specifically the answers are usually as vague as diplomatic ties."
A smaller, furrier Heff. "What territories does he busy himself in? It seems quite the remote dustbowl down here."
As Toramin calls for Ninnec during their conversation, Dalton follows him into the study. "Not one for ambiguity, are you?" the wizard rhetorically asks of Toramin.
"I prefer to establish every variable as known that I can, master Dalton. There are two many unknowns that could kill us. I do not want Ninnec to be harmed because something he did not know -- that he could know -- warped his strategic capacities. The trust we have exchanged honors us both. Ninnec, I will not lie to you. It is dangerous. But, through planning and teamwork we may lessen the danger. There is no valor in losing a fight you cannot win. Their is great valor in making certain you can win the battles you fight."
She gives a sympathetic look. "Don't you worry my baby, I'll make sure this never happens again. We will take you to land, and you will never return." When Bjorkus looks again he sees the person now holding him is Ilythia, but the kind smile has been replaced by a wicked one and the cradling hand by a knife. She laughs, and the deck turns into a whirlpool of sand and sucks Bjorkus down.
Bjorkus is standing on the beach, one foot in the sand, the other in the water. The water laps against him, inviting him, the foam whispering sweetness in his ear. But the sand pulls him, grabbing his leg as if it needs him. He looks down and sees tortured, wailing faces moving in the sand, begging for help, rising up and down out of the sand as they are born and snuffed out meaninglessly.
"I am sorry, but I am not privileged enough to know that information."
The calf feels at peace for the briefest of moments before the idyllic scene turns to madness. Ilythia, the girl that marked the whirlwind of events that had led to his imprisonment. The first betrayal.
The bull tugs at the sand clinging to his hoof, trying to ignore the wailing faces. He pulls towards the inviting water. ”I tried!”, he groans. ”I tried to help you.”
Ninnec returns to the party after getting an estimate for the festivities.
- Food 5sp per person. Ninnec estimates between 50 and 150 people arriving, depending on how well advertising goes.
- Alcoholic Beverages Between 2sp to 5gp per person, depending on how extravagant they want to seem.
- Entertainment 3sp to 1gp per entertainer. A band is a must (multiple would go over well), but there are other options (fire breathers, jugglers, comedians, storytellers) you can add as well.
- Games 1gp-10gp. Card games, a pool table, dart board, whatever you can think of and want to spend money on.
Bjorkus pulls himself out of the sand, falling back into the water. The sand sinks back as the faces begin to fall more rapidly, the edges turning black and beginning to creep in, the blackness attacking the wailing faces and forcing them down. From the middle, where the darkness has not touched yet, rises the little slave girl Bjorkus saw sold in Buldera. She looks at Bjorkus, clutching her little doll and mouthing the words to him Be our martyr, be our hero.
Toramin will okay 100 GP for food, and 250 GP on drink (40% to be spent on good stuff and 60% to be spent on low range stuff that the servants should serve once people get sauced. He will okay 75 GP to be spent on entertainment. (Mostly bands -- heavy on the percussion -- and loud spectacle stuff, like fire breathing.)
Bjorkus sucks in a breath both relieved and in despair at the truth of his reality. He glowers in hatred at the torturer before he resumes his task.
Toramin will also make sure that Rahotep is also invited. It is only good manners since he invited us to his.
Ninnec takes notes, nodding and going back out to spend some money.
”Ha! Nothin’ like his father. That bull could muscle his way up the ropes like a soddin’ monkey.”
”If every one of his bastards took after his father, we’d have a whole sea full of pirate kings. This one’ll be lucky if he’s fit to mop the deck.”
”He’s lucky we keep ‘im fed.”
He is ignored as children often are but he hears and he’s not too young to understand. He approaches the thick ropes with a tiny trembling hand. I have to try…
Bjorkus awakes on the table again, unbound and able to move.
Having seen this all before but still holding on to hope, however foolish, Bjorkus struggles to his hooves and studies the space.
The room appears exactly the same.
Bjorkus squares off with the door and batters it down again.
With escape impossible this time, he turns his attention the furniture.
Doing his best to ignore the pain, Bjorkus picks up a couple of the blood-stained torture implements and crouches down to try picking the lock. It was trade he knew little about and his meaty digits were ill-suited for but he had few other options.
He ponders the contents of the room again.
And an idea begins to form.
He grabs a couple of the sturdier pieces of metal and, using them as an improvised crowbar, tries prying the door open.
Outside is the same hallway, although now there is no motherly figure in the distance.
Bjorkus trudges along seeking escape.
Eventually accepting that the tunnel has no end, Bjorkus channels his fury inward and wills back reality.
"I'm gunna kill you. I swear, before I die, I'm goin' to break your neck and send you to whatever pit in hell is waitin' for you."
Bjorkus struggles against his bindings as the poison is applied.
Before the group disperses for the day to attend to their activities, Rilka gets them all together. ”Concerning the halflings,” she says, ”do you think we should bring them into some of our plans? They might be able to be a backup plan for rescuing Bjorkus. The one I met, I doubt could be convinced of freeing a non-halfling, but perhaps the others...” she shrugs.
”Having some games of chance would be nice at the party. If we had more time, I’d attempt to get some Aussurian Legion uniforms made, find some brave men, and have them ‘buy’ some of the slaves from our guests in Targ’s name. All part of gathering data about the city,” she adds with a smile. ”Well, unless there’s anything else, I’m going to go observe this child observing us.”
Rilka will stealthily find a place to observe the child for about twenty minutes. As she watches him, she’ll wonder how to approach him or get rid of him. Bump into him and slip a coin purse into a pocket then come back with the Aussurian Legion to chase him away? That’s probably too drastic. If he doesn’t leave, she’ll sneak away and find what shops are in the area, specifically food. She’ll buy something that could be easily stolen, like a small wheel of cheese or a kebab. She’ll go back to her observation point to make sure he’s there. If so, she’ll use a disguise self extract to make herself look like a human boy about eleven years old, four feet tall and thin. When she gets to an intersection where turning the corner would bring her within the line of sight of the child, she starts running, turning the corner, and down the street, looking over her shoulder. She sprints towards the boy. As she passes the boy she says, ”Hold this,” and hands off her food. She’ll find the nearest place to hide, pretending to watch for pursuit for a few minutes. She walks back and says, ”Thanks!” holding out her hand for the food. ”I guess I lost them.”
"I think the less who know about the rescue plan the better. It's not particularly complicated. Once we have easy access to the tunnels, Ymir will scout them out and we will map them. Once we know our way in and out of the city we will find Bjorkus and break him out. Though we cannot bring him back here directly. The Halfings, however, could be quite helpful if there is an uprising. Targ must be made to feel like a great beast suffering from many wounds."
Less than a minute into the session Bjorkus feels...weak. It takes much more effort to turn his head than normal, and clearly is shakes his resolve as the physical part of the torture starts to get to him. But he holds his ground...for the moment. The torturer is clearly pleased at the progress as well as the effects of the poison, taking off with a smile.
After a bit of fitful rest, Bjorkus wakes to find himself on the table, unbound and able to move. The details of the room are the same.
Rilka finds a great place to hide, observing the child for a while. The child seems very nervous, glancing around and watching as people pass the manor. Once when a drow passes he gets up and moves forward before looking cross and sitting back down.
When Rilka puts the food in his hand he holds it for a moment, but catches on quickly and stows it in a bag over his shoulder. When Rilka comes back he gives it back with a small, nervous smile. "I haven't seen you around before, you new?"