Korvosa Unchained - CotCT playtesting new rules (Inactive)

Game Master Darkness Rising

Juliet tucks her hair under her azure cloak's hood and ducks her head as they walk. It looked like a serious squall was going to blow in, and when it did, the city would come to a stand-still, even more so than it already had. Plus, it wouldn't do for one of her enemies to see her entering the citadel.

Gotta get a less conspicuous cloak.

Raising an eyebrow at the appearance of the swordmaster yet again in Kroft's office, Juliet vows not to behave like a lovestruck groupie this time. Giving Vencarlo a nod, the singer takes what she's beginning to think as her customary seat, making a mental note to talk to him after the meeting; he's a teacher, and Juliet's been told in the past that she's an apt student.

Any thoughts of studying under the swordsman leave Juliet's head as soon as Kroft gets down to business, however, with the first mention of Amprei's name. And as the meeting goes on, Juliet's eyes dip to the floor, and she pulls the cloakhead down, certain that she' blushing, telegraphing every guilty thought.

Even the news that they've been given the greenlight to kill Lamm is bittersweet. Juliet stares at her feet, options tumbling through her mind. Eventually, she raises her gaze to Kroft, trying to show steely determination, certain her eyes are betraying her.

"We'll get an audience with this Lamm, then, and we'll do what we can to uncover just what he and Amprei'r up to. One question, before we go. Say we find information tying Amprei to Lamm. What happens to the ambassador? Seems to me, could be you jail him and sanctions happen anyways. Best to keep him close by, but free, yeah?"

Juliet clears her throat, a little more swagger back in her voice. "Oh, another question: we got time to grab some stuff? You got anything that can help us out? Supplies, maybe a priest? 'Cause we may need one."

Lorick narrows his eyes as events start accelerating. One of the most effective parts of Lamm's armor, his ability to stay within the bounds of Korsova's laws, had just disappeared and Lamm probably didn't know it yet.

Spying stuff like this usually takes time and folks who're good at theivein' and sneakin' and the like. Why you sending us in? Don't got the time? By when do you want us to pull this off? And what if we run into Amprei?

Xenia stands slightly behind her new companions listening to the Field-Marshal, while also slightly awe struck by the famous Vencarlo.
Yes. What else do you know that might be of assistance? We have some skills, but this is the infamous Lamm. Perhaps the most despicable man in all of Korvosa. We have some skills, but do you truly think that we will have the ability to infiltrate Eel's End and get information from this horrible man?

Through pursued lips she utters a question, though she doesn't really care for the answer: "What are you looking for on the Ambassador, ma'am? Word of mouth, or something more incriminating?"

Kroft nods. "That's a good question. I think the only answer is that you'll know it when you find it. If it's in writing, so much the better."

"Marshall, how long will the suspension be in effect?" Tyenar asks feebly, the winds softly blowing around the Sylph's and the marks running on his skin betraying his nervousness.

A touch of steel enters Kroft's tone as she answers. "As long as necessary - but I hope to lift it by the end of today."

"We'll get an audience with this Lamm, then, and we'll do what we can to uncover just what he and Amprei'r up to. One question, before we go. Say we find information tying Amprei to Lamm. What happens to the ambassador? Seems to me, could be you jail him and sanctions happen anyways. Best to keep him close by, but free, yeah?"

The Field Marshal raises her eyes to the heavens. Adventurers. But it is Vencarlo who replies, smoothly: "If you'll remember, ambassadors have diplomatic immunity. The Guard couldn't put him in prison even if they wanted to; and since the idea is to get him on side as much as possible, I doubt they would want to."

Kroft nods in agreement, her composure swiftly recovered.

"Oh, another question: we got time to grab some stuff? You got anything that can help us out? Supplies, maybe a priest? 'Cause we may need one."

A wry smile. "I'll not send a priest into Eel's End. The good ones would probably combust immediately. As for 'stuff' - what did you have in mind?"

Spying stuff like this usually takes time and folks who're good at theivein' and sneakin' and the like. Why you sending us in? Don't got the time? By when do you want us to pull this off? And what if we run into Amprei?

Again, it is Vencarlo who answers. "I assure you, you won't encounter the ambassador; I'm due to lunch with him very shortly, and then he'll attend on Her Majesty for the evening." He smiles. "This has been planned, although it may not strike you that way."

Kroft interjects. "As for why you, well who else? I can't send the Guard into Eel's End without a fight, and I have a limited supply of people I trust. I agree that you are more... direct in your approach, but that may not prove a bad thing. You may need some of that directness when you deal with Lamm."

She pauses. "Let me be very clear. Do NOT leave Eel's End without something. Whatever it takes to get it." She makes a face. She's clearly unhappy about suspending the rule of law.

What else do you know that might be of assistance? We have some skills, but this is the infamous Lamm. Perhaps the most despicable man in all of Korvosa. We have some skills, but do you truly think that we will have the ability to infiltrate Eel's End and get information from this horrible man?

A shrug. "If I knew anything else, I'd tell you. But I have every confidence in your abilities to do this."

Juliet nods along, her face as impassive as she can make it, one flat blank canvas. She realized it probably made her look dumb. Well, better that than complicit. "That's the smart move, Fencing Master."

Shrugging, at Kroft, Juliet wasn't sure what she had in mind, other than a priest. Looking to the others - help? - she turns back to Kroft. "How about some of those nifty potions, then? The ones that knit you back together after you've been shanked? Or something we get mobbed, we can move some suckers back from us, quick. An explosive or something?"

"Also, I always wanted a horse."

Some cure alls would be nice. But other than that I think that's all our questions. Get evidence on Amprei from Lamm at Eel's end, and if Lamm doesn't help, then we take care of that one way or t'other. Lorick says. He wants the conversation to end. He has a Sargent to talk to.

"Yes, some kind of healing item would help." Tyenar nods, taking notes.
Looks like the Marshall wouldn't mind if Lamm got killed while we retrieve the information...If we manage to even lay an hand on him.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (10) + 11 = 21

Although not always the most observant, Xenia easily picks up on the tone of the Field Marshall's voice as she mentions Lamm.
Sounds like the Field Marshall would not mind if there was one less crime lord in the town after our questioning.

We shall find this Lamm and get the information we need from him. One way or another.

She pauses as she listens to the others.
I cannot disagree, some manner of healing ourselves would not be unappreciated. Our little crew has many unexpected talents, but we are rather short on the divine arts.

Kroft agrees to give each of you a Potion of Cure Moderate Wounds before sending you on your way.

Vencarlo Orisini also takes his leave of the Field Marshal. "I live in Old Korvosa, I'll walk with you part of the way, if I may." He smiles. "I'm not yet so decrepit that I can't keep up with you!" And indeed, despite his limp, he manages a brisk walking pace.

His mood lightens noticeably once you're out of the Citadel. "Much as I appreciate the Guard, and Cressida, I'm rather happier to be away from where I spent too much of my youth." The aristocrat's expression is wry.

"More seriously, though, I am glad that she has you to rely on. I disapprove of authoritarian abuses of power, but on the other hand, I should be glad to live in a Korvosa without the likes of Gaedren Lamm polluting it."

Before they leave Lorick walks around the fort a little bit while the others head out with Orsini. He finds Soldado getting ready for his own assignment. He passes by the Guardsman and says simply You keep him safe while we do what we do and I'll owe ya and then moves to catch up with the others not really waiting for a reply.

**

To Orisini he says I grew up there where Lamm runs things. Seems to me that s'only cause he tweaked the noses of the posh that anyone's doing anything about it.

Juliet is quiet on the walk, one word reverberating through her head. Freedom. The question was, how to do it? Go in, weapons flashing, and take out as many of his folk as possible? Or, go in as proper representatives of the law, get as many of Lamm's folk to split before a fight happened?

One thing was for sure. This was their chance at freedom, and Juliet wasn't going to let it slip through her fingers. Lamm would die, hopefully painfully, tonight. And if she could send Ladzlo into that damned pit as well... all the better.

Head turned to look at the stormclouds, the singer almmost misses Orisini's comment. Gods, she wished he wasn't here right now. They needed to have a frank discussion about how this was going to go. But not in front of the duelist. "Heh, me too," is all she plans to say. But then with further consideration, Juliet changes her mind.

"Oi, Vencarlo. If I want to get the jump on someone, what's the best way to draw my blade? Quick and unassuming, that's what I'm looking for?"

If they couldn't have a frank conversation in front of the legendary swordsman, at the very least they could use the time with him wisely...

To Orisini he says I grew up there where Lamm runs things. Seems to me that s'only cause he tweaked the noses of the posh that anyone's doing anything about it.

That observation earns a wry chuckle: "Ah, my boy, had we but world enough and time, I would gladly discuss with you the paradox where the law hinders justice being brought to those who need it most. I have long argued that the rich and powerful neglect the harm being done, until it happens to them - not a position that has won me many friends among my peers, I might add!"

He sighs. "I doubt greatly that the Queen will do much to alter Korvosa for the better - but at least she is unlikely to have enough support to be able to alter it greatly for the worse... Small comfort, I know."

"Oi, Vencarlo. If I want to get the jump on someone, what's the best way to draw my blade? Quick and unassuming, that's what I'm looking for?"

Orisini raises an eyebrow, before breaking into a delighted smile. "Why, my dear, the answer to that is simple: be like that blade you wear, so familiar to me that I did not immediately register the new - and far more shapely - owner carrying it." He bows, with a wink. "To take someone by surprise, be the expected, the familiar - so familiar that they do not see the danger until it is far too late..."

He draws up as the main road diverges. "Here we part. Your way lies through Eel's End, and my path is that way. Fare you well - and good hunting."

He bows once more, before striding off at a brisk pace, despite the limp.

MOONDAY, 26 GOZRAN 4715 A.R.

Late Morning

And so, travelling together, you all arrive, at the last, at Eel's End. A sprawl of light and sound marks the first (or last, depending on your orientation) pier of Old Korvosa. Glowing lanterns in the shape of dream spiders and gods' eyes hang from pilings or lampposts, flickering through all hours of the day and the night. Eel’s End never truly sleeps. Here is a place that caters to the vices and base needs of all Korvosa at all hours.

In the street leading up to the pier, the Korvosan Guard appear to be more present than usual: one patrol is carrying out stop-and-search on the passing carts and wagons; two more are going door to door in the ongoing hunt for the assassin, Trinia Sabor; and another lot are busying themselves in breaking up a fight between two manic individuals, who are engaged in a shrieking contest, apparently about a parrot. Only a single phrase rises above the froth and fury: "...the 'plumage' don't enter into it! It's DEAD!!!!..."

None of the Guard so much as glances at Eel's End; and Soldado is nowhere to be seen.

Even so, the crew Lamm has stationed at the entrance seems jittery, more suspicious than usual; although that might just be your nerves playing tricks on you. They give you a quick once-over, but you're known; their leader, a bald-headed fat woman, jerks a brusque thumb over her shoulder, beckoning you through.

Far off in the distance, but not nearly so far as it was earlier, thunder rumbles. A storm is coming.

Sia in there? Lorick asks the woman.

Juliet's eyebrows raise in surprise just as her lips form a unconscious smile, the woman obviously pleased with Orisini's flattery. Familiar? Shapely? Competing impulses briefly fight it out before curiosity gets the best of the girl. "Familiar? You know Spite?"

--------------

As they get closer, Juliet smears some mud on her cloak and pants, runs her hands along the cobblestones, giving them a bit of a rash. Then she musses her hair and puts on her thousand-yard stare. The kid's suggestion to look she'd fallen off the wagon was a good one.

Scowling as Soldado is absent - or merely hiding - Juliet flips her cloak hood back as they pass the guard crew. "Oi. Rumor is Lamm's gotten a little tall, and the crown's decided he needs a trimming, chinney? That's what I heard anyways. You know anything? Lot of guards out tonight, yeah?"

Xenia thinks to herself as she passes the shouting match.
Bet it was a Norwegian Blue. Beautiful plumage

- - - - -
Not knowing the crowd as well as the others, Xenia follows behind, one hand in her spell component pouch, and the other rubbing a tattoo on her left shoulder which looks like a number of plants intertwined with one another.

Tyenar follows after the others, staying quiet for now, but he smiles at the guards moving around the place.
Well, even if they won't directly help us, all of these guards around will probably make for a compelling argument to scare off some of Lamm's goons from turning tail and run instead of going after us.
While they go trough Eel's End, the Sylph tries to overhear some conversations about what was going on, and why everyone seemed on edge.
I'm assuming it's because of the guards, but you never know.

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (12) + 10 = 22

Sia in there? Lorick asks the woman.

Bald-head nods mutely, giving you a look as if to say Well, duh. She doesn't say anything, though.

As they get closer, Juliet smears some mud on her cloak and pants, runs her hands along the cobblestones, giving them a bit of a rash. Then she musses her hair and puts on her thousand-yard stare. The kid's suggestion to look she'd fallen off the wagon was a good one.

Scowling as Soldado is absent - or merely hiding - Juliet flips her cloak hood back as they pass the guard crew. "Oi. Rumor is Lamm's gotten a little tall, and the crown's decided he needs a trimming, chinney? That's what I heard anyways. You know anything? Lot of guards out tonight, yeah?"

Baldy shrugs in reply, giving a scowl. "Nah. Guard don't bother us here, you know that. Whatever they're doing, none of our business."

Explode in the "someone throwing a fireball at them" sense, or "get pissed and smash stuff" sense?
This looks...bad.
While the others are talking to the woman to let them in, the Sylph stands a few feet back, and he seems to mutter something to himself several times while he writes on his notes.

Lorick scowls. It doesn't look like they're going to get the jump on anyone. And Sia was involved somehow. Sometimes it felt like something was intent on making his life as complicated as possible.

Juliet sighs. The problem with thugs was, you couldn't even lead them to a well and guarantee they'd drink. You had to tell them to drink, even on a sweltering day, with the well sitting in front of them. "Nah, you don't hear me. Rumor is, rule of law has been suspended. That means-"

Then Tyenar's whispering in her ear, somehow, and Juliet clams up. They're onto us.

Giving baldy a flinty stare, Juliet turns on her heel, tossing a warning over her shoulder as she enters Lamm's den. "You'd best run, all of you. I'll not be as kind as the guard would, if you're still here when I come out."

Baldy leans back slightly under the force of Juliet's glare. "Hey, easy now. Sorry about your friend, but them's the rules, you know? Only thing being suspended round here was her."

There's a slight chuckle from the gang behind her, cut off nervously as they look at your reaction.

The feeling of wrongness spikes as Lorick's blood drains from his face. He didn't bother asking them what they meant, there was no subtletly possible here, only speed. Let's go he growls and hurries into the belly of the beast.

Evelyn's face is set like stone as she follows just behind Lorick into the ship.

"Her" who?"
Tyenar scowls, upping his pace to catch up with the others as they walk into Eel's End.

The interior of Lamm's throne room is much as it has always been: Lamm sits in a large chair on a dais at the prow of the ship, with his lieutenants nearby; immediately in front of the dais are those who've come to see him, or who he's summoned. In the centre of the room are a series of tables, where Lamm's ruffians amuse themselves gambling or playing knivesies (a vicious game where two people try to claim as much gold from the table as they can while also wrestling over possession of a single dagger).

At the back, those of Lamm's Lambs who are off-duty amuse themselves, playing forms of tag and tumbling, watched over by their overseer, a cruel gnome by the name of Hookshanks - he loves his job because it involves the bullying of human children who are shorter than he is. Every Lamb has felt the lash of his scourging whip more than once, Evelyn included.

Among the crowd, you see some familiar faces: Sia, Ladzlo and Davor are conferring with Lamm on the dais; Tybalt is currently winning a game of knivesies (although it's fair to say that, knife in hand, he doesn't seem to be interested in the 'scooping up the gold' part of the game); Anders and Timmor are playing tag with the other Lambs.

The only changes from, say, yesterday are that Lamm is busily eating something from an irregular shaped bowl that on closer inspection is a large crab's shell; and - behind the throne - someone has nailed up a pair of tiny, vestigial wings. The black blood trickling from them is still quite fresh.

The volume of noise dies down momentarily as you enter, heads swivelling in your direction.

Lamm smiles at you unpleasantly, and scoops up another handful from the improvised bowl, devouring it greedily. "Took your time getting here. You missed the fun, my darlings."

To his shame Lorick feels more relief than anything else even though his stomach twists at what was done to the quiet self-effacing witch that he had carried to safety not so long ago. He feels his face assuming the same stony expression it always did when forced to witness one of Lamm's atrocities. Sia was safe. Gehenna was punished for desertion. Things were 'normal' in Eel's End. He was sick and tired of normal.

Got news from the Guards he grunts.

Aware that she's shaking - rage and fear, both in strong measures forcing themselves on the Juliet - the singer steps forward, shushing Lorick. "Not news everyone should hear though. Just you, boss. Has to do with friends in high places."

Keeping her eyes diverted from those wings, still dripping blood, Juliet walks towards Lamm, her fingers twitching near Spite's hilt as she moves. If she get's there, she'll tell him the news, straight from Kroft's mouth.

Your remarks merit a raised eyebrow. "Well, best come and deliver it then. Nothing you can't say in front of these." He gestures to his lieutenants, at the same time pulling Sia on to the arm of his throne, keeping her close by. He watches you carefully, and signals you to stop at the base of the dais.

"There. Nothing you say will be heard over the noise of that rabble." It's clear any 'private audience' is not going to happen.

"So, what have my little ducklings found out that made them so late for their friend's funeral?"

Tyenar stays silent, closing his notebook and letting the others talk for now.
So those wings were of someone they know? Hopefully this will be the last time Lamm does something like this...

Lorick stares at Lamm for a bit before looking down. That's always been how it's gone. Lorick's instinct to resist Lamm faltering away as Lamm exerted his dominance over his meathead enforcer. He draws his breath in, in a very particular way with a bit of a hitching shiver that only Sia's heard. That only Sia has always teased him about.

There's a lot of things like it that Sia and Lorick have shared. Little moments, common memories, a secret language of codewords that builds up in any committed relationship. One of the earliest was a fancy word for undertow that they'd overheard from some slumming toff talking about some street kid that had gotten sucked out into the sea.

Slipstream

Lorick had joked that Sia could vanish and slip away from any problem just like a 'slipstream' had taken her. And from there it had become their own personal warning. If either one of them sensed something wrong they just had to say the word and they'd both bolt.

Some scuttlebut about some devil worshiping ambassador has the higher ups in the Guard intent on cracking down. He says.

Hiis eyes flicker up. Wouldn't want you caught up in the slipstream and with the furious rage in his heart finally unleashed, he ascends up the dais towards the man that he hates and the woman that he loves.

"That's right," Juliet says, walking beside Lorick. "Word is, the crown is worried about the ambassador enough to trim any weeds associated with him. Looks like you may've peaked your head under the wrong skirt, boss."

Juliet keeps moving forwards, running her mouth, louder by the second. "Word is, everything's changing. Plenty of folk better think real quick about who has more power at their disposal. The King of Spiders or the Queen of Korvosa. 'Cause if you choose wrong..."

Casting a pointed glance at Ty as she says the last bit, Juliet grabs her sword's hilt...

Tyenar glares puzzled at Juliet.
She wants me to stay back and let them handle it? That's stupid. Aside from being tactically inefficient, I personally don't want to hang back and stare.
Thinking back at Timmor's words, the Sylph waits for his companions to make the first attack.

Nobody, nobody, catches the King of Spiders napping. The brutal half-elf hasn't spent the last several decades building a criminal empire by being second on the draw. He was watching you when you entered, and even as you approach the dais, he measures your step, the way you tread.

When Lorick begins his sprint up the steps of the dais towards him, Lamm acts - faster. Cooly drawing a dagger and standing up in one smooth move, he stabs the nearest target: Sia, who was registering Lorick's words and moving, slipping away from trouble - but too slowly, and too late.

Lamm sneers as the dagger goes in between her ribs. "Picked your side, did you, sweetheart? After all I done for you? Bad choice. Bad choice. Too bad you won't live to learn how bad."

Sia goes white, and presses one hand to her side. The other fumbles for her own blade.

Lamm barely has time to turn before Lorick is on him, with furious anger. He snarls at Ladzlo and Davor, who seem rooted to the floor in shock. "Don't just stand there, kill them!"

Lorick is up, then Xenia, Tyenar, Juliet and Evelyn

Words fail Lorick as he sees Sia turning pale. He only manages to grunt out Save her to the others before giving himself in to a white, hot, pure, rage.

Two of Lorick's attacks hit solidly, but Lamm ducks the remainder with ease: Lorick can tell that he is up against a veteran of many, many brawls. The Stunning Fist attempt has no effect at all.

Lamm sneers. "That the best you got?"

Xenia, Tyenar, Juliet and Evelyn - you're up.

Face set like stone, Evelyn digs deep into her bag - to the special bones. The ones she had been saving for this exact moment. She'd spent dozens of waking nights skulking through the grey, searching for the tombs and legends of those who were strong - and who had a grudge.

She draws out the first bone; part of a femur belonging to the soldier Otto von Issen, noble and heroic from what she heard. Shiver addiction had undone him, but now Evelyn offered a second chance if only the spirit would serve her from some short while.

As her magic knits the skeletal monster together, she turns to address the gathered lackeys. "Anyone who interfers is guaranteed a shallow grave." she hisses "Except for you Hookshanks - I'll be taking a personal interest in your vivisection."

She moves towards the dias and draws her longsword. Ahead of her, Otto's skeleton rushes wildly at Lamm brandishing a tarnished blade. With a clumsy flourish, Otto attacks.

Seeing Lamm stab the woman standing next to him, Xenia reaches back into her memory in an attempt to find something to distract the henchmen. Suddenly she recalls a terrifying creature she saw summoned while still a student at the Acadamae. Drawing on her recollections, she raises her hand and a moment later, a terrifying creature of flame with a huge serrated glaive appears behind and to the side of Lamm's lackeys.

Both the skeleton's attacks miss Lamm, who has an uncanny talent for not being where Otto's scimitar is.

Tyenar and Juliet are up.

Gasping when Lamm reacts before they even got to attack him, Tyenar's hearth starts to thump in his chest as he reaches for a vial in his bandolier with trembling hands. Throwing for a moment a glance to where the group of Little Lamms was, the sylph pulls off the cap of the vial and downs it in one gulp. As he walks toward Lamm and his sidekicks, drawing his rapier, Tyenar's arms grow to inhuman proportions to almost double of their previous length.
"We're coming to get you, you child-abusing bastard!" the sylph says in the closest thing he can do similar to a shout "And you're next, Ladzlo!"

Juliet stood rooted to the ground, all the hells breaking loose around her. Lorick's gal stabbed, a damned - [possibly quite literally - monster sprung up between them and Ladzlo, and more of the kid's family come to play.

Be the sword. She thought that was what Vencarlo had told her. Regardless, it had always worked before - stop thinking, start doing. React, act, and will yourself through it. But most importantly, stop thinking girl!

Possible action #1

Sprinting up the dias, Juliet draws her blade, all doubts gone from her mind. Kill or be killed, just that simple when she got down to it. Two quick thrusts, on point and potentially deadly, Juliet hoped they got through the King of Spider's armor.

Possible action #2

Too many people trying to put the kill on Lamm, Juliet'd just be waiting in line to stab the man. Scowling, she turned her attention to Ladzlo, being menaced by the demon. It seemed the demon was on their side, though Juliet wasn't going to get in range.

Skirting just out of the creature's reach, Juliet circled around to Ladzlo and sent two quick thrusts at the man's neck, hoping Greased-Fingers would quickly fall...

Juliet is able to reach Lamm in a single movement, and her second thrust strikes him, drawing blood. More satisfying to Juliet however is the momentary flicker of doubt in Lamm's eyes; just a glimmer, and then it is gone, replaced by his usual sneer of cold command.

It takes a few seconds for everyone in the room to realise what is happening, but it quickly becomes clear that the unthinkable is happening: someone is trying to take down Lamm. A ripple of stunned silence spreads across the floor, and now the usual noise of gambling and knivesies gives way to the thrust of steel and cries of pain around the dais.

It is the Lambs who are quickest to react. A childish treble pipes up: "About chissing time, Fairyfoot! For Half-ears!"

It is clearly some pre-arranged signal: the larger of the Lambs swarm Hookshanks; the gnome gives a startled squeak and reaches for the whip at his belt. The smaller Lambs scuttle for the nearby pillars, scrambling up into the rafters, dragging with them any Lambs too small to make it by themselves.

At the sight of full-fledged rebellion, some of Lamm's goons move to step in and go to Hookshanks' aid; but others, cheered by the prospect of finally getting out from under Lamm's thumb, draw blades to stop them.

In moments, the entirety of the throne room is beset with violence, one against another, no quarter asked or given. Tybalt dives in, a bloody knife flickering in each hand.

Meanwhile, Sia draws her blade and - with shaking hands - steps around to Lamm's rear.

Her attack however goes wild, the blade turning in her grasp and falling to the floor. She gasps, a sheen of sweat on her brow. Lamm turns briefly to leer at her: "Not feeling so good, are we, duckling?" She glares at him, not trusting herself to reply.

It is perhaps Sia's defiance that finally stirs the two remaining lieutenants into action - the prospect of losing everything.

Completely taken in by Xenia's illusion, they move warily to strike it, circling around to attack it from both directions. Davor's snarl of rage when his weapons go straight through it and he realises he's been fooled is only marginally more menacing than Ladzlo's low hiss.

Round 2

Under assault from all sides, Lamm shifts position subtly, relying on his expertise from a hundred previous combats to get him through this one.

His elbow jars into the side of Lorick's head, causing momentary stars to appear in the monk's vision; but - to Lamm's obvious disappointment - Lorick stays upright.

Lorick is up, then Xenia, Tyenar, Juliet, Evelyn.

Lorick's head jerks back at the force of Lamm's blow. Eyes raging, Lorick rotates his head back to fix Lamm with a death stare while continuing to lash out. The crime bosses jeers and taunts don't affect the monk. Indeed he hasn't even heard them.

It's fair to say that Lamm has never faced an opponent quite as dangerous as Lorick. Wherever the crime lord ducks, there's an elbow, a knee, a fist, a boot, waiting for him, slamming into him with lethal force.

Enraged and desperate in almost equal measure, he screams wordlessly at the hapless duo of lieutenants who were duped into engaging with Xenia's illusionary devil.

Xenia, Tyenar, Juliet, Evelyn are up.

Juliet grins as she pulls Spite back, the fencing blade flecked with blood. "Oi, you're a thick one, Lamm."

Thrust

"You're a dead man walking, chinney? Crown's interested in taking you down,"

StepThrust

"Really think you got a whores hope in heaven?"

Thrust

Writhing in silent agony, Otto joins in on the whirlwind of violent emotions currently tearing around the Eel's End. He throws away the broken scimitar and lunges at Lamm once again with clawed hands.

Meanwhile, Evelyn continues to skulk towards Sia. As she draws closer, she reveals the boneshard wand and, without thinking to offer much explanation, attempts to heal the girl.

Otto misses, but the flailing skeletal claws bump Lamm into the point of Juliet's sword and he snarls. "What? The Crown? What? Are you back on the peshing shiver again?"

Sia looks gratefully at Evelyn as the healing magic touches her, but she's still pale and shivering. Somewhat more like himself, Lamm sneers. "You're dead, girl. D-E-A-D. You just don't know it yet..."

Xenia and Tyenar are up.

"Your dealings with Ambassador Amprei, Lamm. Don't play dumb." Tyenar makes his way toward Lamm, tightening his grip on the rapier as he hears Timmor.
"Maybe if you spill what you know we won't spill your guts." the sylph says, trying to stab Lamm a couple of times.