Damn he thought he'd been careful. The straggly bushes in this court yard should have hidden him from view and he hadn't seen any traps. Holding his would stumbles back "There is something nasty out there, probably another trap. Edric, Talia I think I might need your help." he says removing he hand from the wound which is still bleeding profusely.
Gavriil's mouth drops when he sees Dregan. He looks to the others and says, "Do we move on or hold here for whatever attacked him to show itself?"
All the while, Gavriil keeps an eye out for whatever attacked Dregan.
You are standing south of the tower looking north back at it, when a soft rustle of the brush to your right catches your eye. A shadow moves from bush to bush ahead, perhaps 30' from where you stand.
Talia had produced her wand by the time Dregan had stumbled back. "Another trap seems likely," she said, nodding along as she touched the wand to Dregan's already closing wound, courtesy of Fairhaven's general.
Then, a rustling caught her eye, and a shadow, close by. "There!" Talia shouted, adrenaline making her voice crack. "Not a trap, but a - something - in the bushes!"
Gavriil notices the rush of movement off to his right and explodes into action, I've got it! he says as he rushes towards where he saw the movement, rapier up to attack the creature.
Naralesh squints, his one good eye scanning the bushes. His connection with Nora as strong as ever, the fox leaps to his shoulder, all tense and serious, as the empathic link allows their vision to blend together as the pair concentrates. He readies his magic - the moment he spots the tiny creature, he unleashes his flashbang spell to cover it in bright, luminous shards. "Point it out!" he calls out tersely to his allies. "If you see it, call out where!"
"Not a trap" Dregan mouths In surprise. He spins rand readies and arrow as he scan a he bushes. Damn he'd been slack in assuming it was only a trap, his companions hadn't been so silly.
The shadow is enough for Naralesh to cast his spell, guided by Gavriil's charge. The glitterdust explodes in bright shards, revealing...nothing. The shadow disappears in the flash of light!
"Arrggh!" comes a cry from the left. Writhing on the ground clutching his eyes is this creature. A tiny sword lays next to him where he dropped it.
Talia sprints forward and grabs the creature's sword, unable to contain her glee. "Aha! Do you surrender, little, uh, man?"
As Talia moves forward to grab the fey's sword, Gavriil steps forward and presses the tip of his rapier under the fey's chin and says in sylvan,
The tiny creature twitches and squirms under Gavriil's blade but it does speak. In a few seconds, it's eyes regain sight and they dart back and forth with uncanny quickness. He looks up at you, motionless, as if he's expecting something. After a second or two, when it appears you can still see him, he makes a dash for freedom! He rolls to his left in an impossibly fast motion, ducking and weaving as he moves.
Not thinking, Talia stabs at the creature with its own sword, silently cursing that of all the weeks she left Worgslayer with Oleg...
"Hey! Tiny! Stop!"
Dregan tracks the creature with bow waiting for a clean shot.
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Meanwhile
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One does not simply walk into a caravan troupe. Especially a Sczarni caravan troupe. Especially especially when one is on the ruling council.
Vosil has been noticing the gang script for a while now, daubed on walls across Concord. It’s subtle, but there if you know what you’re looking for, which he does. Arranging a meeting is a simple matter of pinning a note to the right wall. It doesn’t guarantee a reply, but it does guarantee their attention. Not something to be done lightly, or without precautions.
Leaving the Council chambers of the castle, he makes his way to the local tavern and spends the evening distributing drinks in an obvious show of largesse; the serving boy, Jakub, is one of his agents and ensures that he receives only water. As the night wears on he takes one of the girls (Molyana, another agent) up to the top-most room of the tavern. Once there, they bolt the door and open up the roof hatch, as agreed.
Vosil waits. If this is a set-up, any killer will be expecting to find him drunk and otherwise engaged. If not, then all good; but you can never be too careful.
When they do finally appear, Vosil inclines his head in greeting, careful not to take his eyes off them, before welcoming them in their tongue (which he’s – fairly – certain that Molyana doesn’t speak, but you never know for sure).
Varisian laws of hospitality are fairly rigid: if you offer someone a drink, you’re really not supposed to kill them; and if they accept, they’re really not supposed to kill you. It’s not a guarantee, but it sets things off on the right foot.
Gavriil swears in sylvan at the fey as he rolls to the side faster than he thought possible. As the creature scrambles to get away, Gavriil stabs at him.
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Meanwhile, back in Concord...
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Three dark men stand in front of Vosil. Swathed in the colorful clothing of the Varisian wanderers, they nod an acceptance of Vosil's offer. Their leader steps forward to take the offered drink. He toasts Vosil with a tip of the glass. "Time be with you, and against your enemies." he says in Varisian - a traditional Szcarni greeting.
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In Concord
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Three against one is not good odds (Vosil doesn't factor Molyana into this calculation: his agents are information-gatherers, not ass-kickers). Vosil hopes that this is indeed just a parley.
He runs a finger and thumb through his mustache and beard as he acknowledges the toast with a smile, returning the Varisian saying with another: "May the moon's light never play you false." He frowns briefly, remembering the unfortunate - and late - werewolf, before putting the thought to one side. "I find that the issue is in knowing who my enemies are, these days... But my manners are at fault. Vosil Comarenza, late of the Pathfinder Society and now in service to the Viscountess of Fairhaven - might I know your name, and what brings the Brotherhood of the Road out into the Stolen Lands? I would imagine the trail is hard on the wagon wheels."
Dregan sends his moment as the creature passes between two shrubs and he releases his arrow.
point blank, deadly aim, rangers focus
point blank, deadly aim, rangers focus
Edric's blow barely scratches the small fey, but Dregan's arrow hits him hard.
The creature continues to scramble away, moving with unnatural speed through the heavy brush. Naralesh's spell continues to outline his small form.
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Concord
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"Jubal. Jubal Vhrisky." The leader replies. "Late of Sandpoint. But my business is my own. You sent to us." Jubal says, with some expectation.
Gavriil marvels at how fast the creature moves through the thick brush around the tower and deftly dodges his rapier. Seeing him flee, he immediately gives chase, but realizes that there is no way of reaching the fey in time. "Dregan! Bring him down!"
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Naralesh tries to recall what manner of creature this is, suspecting it must be a fey of some sort based on its appearance. Knowing his glitterdust will not last forever, he begins summoning a monster that will do a better job of tracking the strange fey. "DRAKULGAST! IP VIM TAKRI. DURUVATH BRETHEGAR." He takes his time, knowing he has several crucial seconds left before the glitterdust fades.
Naralesh completes his spell, summoning a Resolute Dire Bat a short distance away from the fleeing creature - and crucially, near Naralesh's allies.
"You think speed is your ally?" Naralesh quips. "VIVIVIVKIK: SOVNOS!" he says, his lips moving like a blur - and suddenly, so are his allies.
The bat, utterly uniform in color and moving with precise, almost mechanical movements, seems even at a glance to embody the concepts of organization and order. Darting precisely towards the fleeing enemy in the minimum distance required, the bat swoops to directly over the creature's head before mechanically bending its head downwards to bite. As it bends, a cold, bright light shines from its eyes, narrowing in on its target like a beam of focused light through a lens.
The creature off with a flash, Talia runs towards it, silently cursing as she slips on pebbles and gets snagged on weeds. Still, she manages to get close enough to lash out with her scorpion whip, hoping to upend the little creature once again, as Nara's spell had done just seconds ago...
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Concord
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Vosil lets the drink swirl in his glass as he thinks fast, trying to dredge up what he knows about the name Jubal Vhrisky.
Breathing in deeply, he puts the glass down, giving a warm smile and spreads his hands. "In the Viscountess' absence, I wanted to ensure that you were properly welcomed into Fairhaven. I know from bitter experience that we Varisians can attract suspicion, and I wanted to assure you personally that all who are willing to contribute are welcome here - I am sure that we can find a use for whatever particular talents you may have."
He pauses. "Assuming that you plan to stay, of course - not everyone does. We did our best to accommodate the local kobolds, but alas they proved to be too - what's the word? - unwilling to contribute."
He smiles, giving a flash of his teeth, as he assesses the impact of his words.
Ducking and weaving, the quickling - for Naralesh knows that is what it is - dodges the bat's bite. Gavriil gives chase, then Talia's whip flashes out and brings it down with a thud! Once again, it pauses for a moment under the brush. But the glow around it does not go away, so it does not vanish.
Concord
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Jubral Vhrisky is a Szcarni from Sandpoint. His name is attached to several operations in the area. Why he is all the way out here is unknown.
"A use for my talents?" Jubal says with a smile, "and what does Vosil Comarenza see those talents are?" The grin on the man's face is not unlike a wolf baring his teeth at the edge of a flock of unguarded sheep.
Gavriil rushes forward, dodging and diping through the under-brush, after the fey with a burst of speed from Nara and plunges his rapier towards it.
This time the blade catches the fleeing fey, drawing blood.
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Concord
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When someone gets in your face, you get in theirs. It's a lesson Vosil learned early in life, one which resulted in fleeing his hometown at the age of 15, with someone else's blood on his hands and barely a step ahead of the city watch. It is a lesson he has since gone to some trouble to un-learn.
Putting on his best neutral expression, he spreads his arms expansively. "I know little about you, Master Vhrisky - which is why I invited you to meet. Why don't you tell me what you see your talents are, and we can take the discussion from there?"
Talia lets out a whoop as she upends the little creature. If only Vosil could have seen that! Snapping her scorpion whip back, the Viscountess prepares to lash the little creature, but hesitates when it again just lies there. Why does it lay still? Perhaps it is sick?
Shaking her head, Talia realized it didn't matter. The creature had wounded Dregan. It was a threat, and would be put down. Arm raised, Talia prepared to upend the creature again if it tried to flee.
Talia lets out a whoop as she upends the little creature. If only Vosil could have seen that!
Vosil is, out of the blue, suddenly struck by the urge to be somewhere else - as well as simultaneously extremely glad that none of the rest of the group is present to witness his attempts at diplomancy.
It turns out that a lifetime of hitting things is not, in fact, adequate preparation for leading negotiations - who knew?
Should have sent a poet playwright...
Thanks to some magic from Naralesh, Gavriil's rapier flies out again and strikes the prone fey.
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The quickling is killed swiftly and mercilessly after stabbing Dregan. The tiny being's sudden cessation of rapid movement is a bit of a shock. But he is still dead.
Concord
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"You know the signs, Comarenza," Jubal says dryly, "so don't play coy about my talents. You need something done, and you need someone to do them. Someone who can be denied. All we need now is a job and a price." Jubal smiles.
"Or perhaps you are looking for and open-ended deal. Maybe someone you can trust on retainer. We could do that for you...for a cut."
Vosil gives a wry (and relieved) smile of agreement in return: "We are men of action - lies do not become us. You are quite right: we are looking for someone to fill the post of Royal Enforcer - or Viscounty Enforcer, perhaps I should say. Our Viscountess will have to be the one who offers the role, but now I know you are interested I shall raise it with her when she returns."
He raises a glass to toast the other man. "Confusion to our enemies!"
Jubal raises his glass and drinks. Then the Szcarni leave the way they came. Just before he exits, Jubal turns to Vosil.
"I will throw you a bone, Vosil. Call it a good faith token. You can pay me later." He flashes that wolfish grin.
"Tomorrow at noon there will be a man speaking on the town square. He will have some...interesting things to say. I would suggest you be there." Then he leaves.
Elven Ruins
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Gavriil stands over the dead fey and turns to the others, "We should move to the keep quickly. If there are more of them then they definitely know we are here now. No pun intended, but speed is probably our best best right now." Gavriil moves back to the door of the keep and looks inside, waiting for the others to ready themselves to clear the keep.
"Very well. Is anyone wounded?" Naralesh glances over to Dregan, not wanting to move out yet if his wounds remained unhealed.
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Concord
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Vosil nods his thanks at Jubal as the man takes his leave and spends a few minutes sitting in thought, running a finger and thumb across his mustache and beard. He looks at Molyana: "That was a good night's work - if any of the girls speak Varisian, see if they can get close to any of Jubal's men. It would be good to know their numbers and where they're staying."
With that, he makes his way back to the castle, where he sends a servant to rouse the other members of the council from their beds.
Once they've assembled, he gives them a full report of his meeting, as well as Jubal's warning about the man due to be speaking tomorrow.
"Let us decide what to do about this. Until the Viscountess returns, I favour simply watching and making notes, but if you think a more active policy will yield better results, then I am listening."
Concord
The remaining of the Council listening attentively, if not a little bleary-eyed at Vosil's account of the meeting with the Szcarni. When he is finished, they don't hide their concerns.
"Well," Darrick begins tentatively, "one might ask why you didn't inform us of this meeting beforehand, Vosil." He holds up his hand to forestall any protest from Vosil. "You took quite a risk, if any of the stories of the Szcarni are to be believed. I will admit, I know nothing of these wanderers other than what rumors tell."
"Nor I"
"Thieves and swindlers, the lot, by all accounts."
"Indeed." Darrick nods. "But just the sort of folk we may need for the more...unsavory aspects of managing our affairs. If they can be controlled."
He waits for a response from the others, and when none is forthcoming he continues. "More interesting in the immediate future is this man speaking tomorrow. I agree with Vosil, we must be there to hear what is said.