Field Marshal Croft makes a wry face in response to your questions: "Well, quite a lot of them were killed in the riots; the rest are doing the same as everyone else, laying low and seeing what happens."
__________________
EVELYN
__________________
The market is urgently busy, with a sense of fear and dread; supplies of food are already low and many stalls close early as they run out of stock. The only thing that prevents actual fights from breaking out is the presence in overwhelming numbers of the Korvosan Guard. Many of them show obvious injuries, and all of them are unshaven and fatigued; they're clearly doing double shifts. Some haven't slept at all.
=========
Alynis smiles cheerfully at you as you enter her forge. "Just in time for tea and a little snack of something, you are! Glad I am to see you, too, after all them goings-on..." She blinks at the stack of gold coins you deposit in front of her. "Name of Aroden, my girl, you'd have to eat like the Queen to owe me that much, so!"
The halfling's kind eyes look at you with interest. "And just what have you been doing to come by that sort of money? Tell you what, have a cuppa and I'll take payment in the form of your story... Maybe if you keep the money, you'll be able to afford a proper blade soon!"
A master smith, Alynis considers any weapon that's not masterwork to be little better than a farm implement.
__________________
GEHENNA
__________________
"Gee?! Gee! It is you!"
Your wanderings near the Acadamae have brought you to the attention of a familiar voice: only one person in creation calls you by that name. Sure enough, it's Jezebel, wrapping her arms around you and filling your senses with the smell of her golden hair, the warmth of her body. (She's always been the touchy-feely sort, but you've a suspicion that she hugs you extra tight because she knows you dislike the closeness.)
Her golden eyes look at you with concern etched deeply - and perfectly, you can't help noticing - into her perfect features. "Gee, where have you been?! How have you been? They say Old Korvosa burned to the ground last night! I've been so worried about you..."
Not, apparently, so worried that it affected her sleep; she looks well-rested and gorgeous, as always.
"But anyway, enough about me - bet you haven't eaten properly, have you? I'm sure if we took that... that garment (no honestly, darling, on you it looks fine) off you I could see all your ribs!" She winks one eye, playfully. "Come on, Gee, let's get you some hot food and some chilled wine and then... then we'll see, hmm, darling?" Another golden-eyed wink.
She lets go of you enough to link one arm firmly around yours, before leading you towards the Acadamae. "Honestly, darling, I don't know HOW you survived, you must tell me EVERYTHING! None of the staff are saying a thing, it's maddening..."
__________________
JULIET
__________________
"You! " Elrick's expression turns rapidly from surprise to anger (without wanting to stereotype, all things considered it is fair to say that Asmodeans don't really do forgiveness). He steps in close. "In Cheliax, we do things properly - you would have been horsewhipped for what you did."
One hand rips the blouse, shedding buttons. "So your apology had better be very"
(His other hand runs through your long, black hair)
"very"
(He tosses your belt to one side)
"convincing."
(We'll call it a draw: his fingers leave bruises in your flesh, but your nails score marks across his skin. In any event, as you end in mutually tangled exhaustion, whatever itch you had is well and truly scratched... for the time being.)
Afterward, some sort of truce seems to have been declared: Elrick helps scrabble on the floor, collecting your buttons; and has his valet sew them back on (the valet - a thuggish-looking tiefling - looks more accustomed to sewing cut flesh, but does a surprisingly deft job). He watches you - slightly self-consciously - as you dress again. "I - they tell me that you sing. At the opera, I mean. Professionally. I'd like to attend, one evening. Once the chaos-" he scowls; such riots would never happen in Cheliax - "is over. Would you let me know next time you're performing?" He smiles, slightly. "Is it true that the tradition is to send dead flowers?"
=========
"It isn't safe to be out alone, you know."
Whirling around from before the (stubbornly locked, barred, bolted, sealed and shut) doors of Ricci's Opera House, you see a familiar figure: the well-coiffed hair and fey thin looks of Ruan Mirukova, Korvosa's foremost player of the ocarina, a Varisian folk instrument that is fiendishly hard to master (played well, it makes saints and angels weep; otherwise it sounds like a cat being put through a mincer). He gives regular performances at the Marbledome. You recognise him, but you don't know him; his sister Svetalta, however, you do know - she's one of Ricci's chorus girls. (She has far too much talent for that, but in this city, if you're obviously Varisian, you have to be twice as good to get half as far.)
Svetalta looks at you impassively, but Ruan smiles. "Please. Allow us-" he gestures at his entourage - "to walk you home."
Elrick was a child of largess, and like most children of the powerful, Juliet had assumed that he was in many ways weak, soft. That he wasn't was well, a little surprising, and disconcerting. Those children that weren't weak were often cruel, or entitled.
And the butler, well he was disconcerting too. I might have made a mistake.
"I haven't talked with Ricci, so I don't know exactly when, but I'll be performing tonight, if we're open. And you're always welcome. Just come by - I'll be there."
Sliding her dagger back into her boot and throwing her cloak over her shoulders, Juliet makes for the door, tossing a quick look over her shoulder. "In Korvosa, we like our flowers live. Well, us well-adjusted folks, anyways."
----------------------------
Juliet cocks an eyebrow. Ruan Mircova was big time. Dropping his sister off, if there was a show tonight perhaps? How... brotherly. Her mind wanders for a moment to Ty. She really should have checked in on him. Probably.
Smiling, Juliet pauses - for effect - before giving Mircova an answer. "Seems quiet enough now, though, huh? Still, I'd welcome the company. To be in the presence of Korvosa's foremost ocarina player, is something to relish. And to spend a little time getting to know his equally talented sister - well, I'd be remiss to pass that up."
"I'm near the Posh and Turtle."
Along the walk, Juliet makes tries to keep an eye out for threats in the shadows, but she often finds her mind wandering; to Ty, to her new friends, to tomorrow, even to Elrick. And something pulled at the back of her mind, a bit of worry. A group of performers wandering the streets would be ripe targets. And perhaps that was the point...
__________________
LORICK
__________________
You get an unsettling feeling, walking the streets. You do this more than most; you have a feel for the rhythms of the city. And they're wrong, flat out wrong. That Field Marshal was right, things're going to get a lot worse before they get better.
It probably pays to be prepared. Now, if only you knew what you had to prepare for... it's all very well saying 'expect the unexpected' but that's the sort of Varisian bull that annoys proper seers like Miyoto. You're sure he'd know what to do, what to be ready for; but he's not here. Thanks to Lamm. It all comes back to him.
__________________
VAENATHIS
__________________
"Talking to yourself, Half-ears? Sign of madness, you know." Sure enough, it's Timmor, half out of sight and grinning all over his face - which is covered by a large, unsightly bruise. He scowls "That bostich little quint Davor gave me a walloping, 'cos I dropped the purse I lifted running from them damn Hellknights... gonna pay him back some time, real good, the little-big ragnash!"
He sniffs, wiping his hand on the back of his sleeve. "So what 'bout you, Half-ears? Gotta say, that is a mighty fine lady you keepin' at your inn, right under yer mother's nose, eh?" He whistles, and makes a deeply obscene gesture with his hands. "Mighty fine. You get in there, you hear me?"
"Anyway, this in't a social call - wanted to let ya know, us Lambs been finkin' - this unrest puts your mind to work, and we ain't putting up with much more of Lamm's crap; I been listenin' in on his other mob... 'bout half of 'em is in it for fun an' pay, but there's nearly half like you, wantin' out but dunno how to do it; you ever decide to grow some and stand up to 'im, you might have more help than you reckoned."
He winks at you. "Just a thought for a rainy day, eh?"
__________________
JULIET
__________________
Elrick nods. "Ricci's. I look forward to it." He looks wistful. "My sister sang a lot; she loved the opera. I miss her. She gave her life to Asmodeus."
It takes a moment for you to realise he's talking literally, but he must see from the expression on your face what you're thinking. "No, no, no, not like that - she went willingly: she volunteered! It was an honour, and it moved our family up in esteem; her sacrifice got my father this promotion! She got something out of it too, of course - ascent to immortality as a fiend... I like to think she's somewhere out there, watching over us."
He looks wistful again. "But I do miss her singing."
=========
"And to spend a little time getting to know his equally talented sister"
Svetalta's eyebrow rises in contempt as she addresses her brother.
This last is addressed directly to you; it's clear that she recognises you as Varisian.
Ruan's voice is conciliatory. "We all make our choices, Svetalta, and our friend here has made hers. Let us not rush to judgement - there are too many in Korvosa who'll do that for us."
He looks at you. "I apologise for her. It is hard, learning that ability alone is not enough. Please don't hold her remarks against her."
Svetalta scowls, but says nothing further during your walk home.
Juliet pauses, her hand on the knob of Elrick's door, the silence stretching out between them, an awkward chasm.
"Uh, yeah...... Just so we're clear, I'm perfectly happy shuffling my mortal vessel around Korvosa, OK?
Yep. Definitely a mistake.
---------------------
Juliet blushes red with anger, turning on the chorus girl, an insult hot on her lips.
But the truth was, well, what Svetalta spoke. Juliet had changed her name precisely for the reason the Svetalta was stuck in the chorus. Well, precisely for one of the reasons. It didn't help any Varisian that a lot of them were grifters and sneak-thieves. But now was not the time to bring that point of contention up.
Shrugging, Juliet swallows her anger. "My nastere-name este Nadezhda. Nadja este ceea ce mama mea, poate ea dansa alături de Pharasma lui, ma sunat. Nu este corect că trebuie să ne schimbe pentru a urca din cor, sau pentru a obține în galeriile pe înălțimi, sau pe orice cadru de selecție în orice Playhouse. Dar noi facem. Acesta este adevărul lucrurilor. nu-i SWAT molia care dorește să flutter la o lumină mai mare. Ea știe doar calea către lumina și nu procesele moliile din jurul ei."
"Și nu am fost te ocrotitoare. Aveți o voce strălucitoare, și am vrut să spun în fiecare silabă din lingușirea, Svetalta."
"And I was not patronizing you. You do have a brilliant voice, and I meant every syllable of that flattery, Svetalta. You deserve to be a shining light."
"Indeed, and quite the thought it is," Vaen smiles at the boy. "As for the half-orc, well... people should be more careful who the side with, you know?"
The half-elf sighs as his eyes drift to Timm's bruise. "I am heading over to my mother's inn. Care to join me? She can take a look at that bruise and you can take a look at my... friend, if she is still there. Might even be some porridge or a couple of sausages there for you as well."
He winks at the boy then. "And no jokes about sausages, please..."
Overwhelmed (as usual) by Jezebel's richness of... personality, Gehenna finds herself being carried along toward's the Acadamae's imposing doors. Jezebel always got her way when she and Gehenna had interacted in the past and, in truth, Gehenna had never minded much. She both envied and admired the fellow tiefling's exuberance and spirit.
From Gehenna's perspective, Jezebel was a walking, talking crystallization of the concept of "haves" in Gehenna's world of having not. A comfortable, sheltered life of learning and discovery, a perfectly sculpted form, and and the confidence to go with. As if that were not enough, Jezebel even carried the evidence of her fiendish heritage with a kind of pride that Gehenna could never imagine. Smooth curved horns, lithe devilish tail, and golden cat-like eyes that, to Gehenna anyway, had always seemed almost regal.
All I have to show for my heritage are these pitiful broken stumps that should have been wings Gehenna thinks bitterly as she is dragged along.
But was this truly alright? Were visitors allowed within the Acadamae's walls so easily? Gehenna had always feared that the consequences for fleeing to the institution would be worse than any Lamm could ever cook up for her, and that opinion had not been greatly swayed of late but...
Many things are changing; have already changed she tells herself. If she could resolve to pit herself against Lamm, then surly she could sped a few hours within the Acadamae's walls without ill consequence.
Takis would be scowling something fierce if he knew about this, but he doesn't understand Jezebel Gehenna thinks, her resolve growing. She's willful, and more than a bit forceful when she wants to be, but she isn't a bad person. I've seen enough bad people to know at least that.
Gehenna snaps out of her thoughts to find herself on the threshold of the Acadama.
Right?
She steps through.
Lorick frowns as he feels the tension in the air. He can almost smell the fear and desparation in the people all around him. Sia would pick up on it too he was sure, being aware of people's moods had been instrumental in their surival on the streets of Old Korvosa. Sia he missed her terribly and found himself worrying about her. She could take care of herself, sure, but the city felt like it was going to explode into flames and everyone, no matter how savvy, would be in danger.
Miyoto's probably safer than anyone else in the city Lorick thinks to himself and snorts
The big man steps into the shadows of an alley as a troop of Hell Knights stride past and takes a deep breath. Focus on the now. Prepare for the later. But how? Lorick thinks and his eyes fall on a faded sign with familar looking lettering over a boarded up store front. Tianese! He'd seen the same script in his time with Miyoto. Desparate for Guidance Lorick moves around the back of the small store and, making sure no one is around, silently levers open the boards over one of the smaller windows using his natural strength and his rudimentary knowledge of wood working.
Squeezing inside Lorick looks around with wonder. Miyoto's origins had always been a bit of a mystery to him and now the trainee monk found himself surrounded by a room full of items from that that he had only caught glimpses of in Miyoto's hovel.
A rack of weapons draws his attention.
__________________
GEHENNA
__________________
Nothing bad happens as you enter the Acadamae; you are Jezebel's friend, and accorded status as such. In addition, your 'exotic' clothing and the fact that you are (in Jezebel's words) a 'child of the streets' gives you a certain coolness factor in the eyes of these privileged students. They ask you a lot of questions about what it's "really like out there" - it's clear that although no doubt very clever in many respects, most of them have led sheltered lives.
The only 'peril' you face is Jezebel constantly trying to push you into pairing off with any of the more attractive students - when she isn't flirting with you herself. Being able to make you uncomfortable is a form of power; and Jezebel enjoys power, in all its forms. But there's no malice in it, and she seems very much to enjoy your company. She's certainly enjoying basking in your new-found aura of cool.
__________________
JULIET
__________________
Svetalta looks at you. "That was well said." The admission is slightly grudging and it's clear that you'll not be friends any time soon, but the animosity has gone. Ruan smiles, pleased.
The journey back to your flat ends without further incident.
__________________
LORICK
__________________
"We're closed."
Turning round, you spot a Tian youth holding one of the multi-edged blades in slightly trembling hands; his elderly parents cower behind him. From the mattresses and bedding, it's clear that they've taken to sleeping in the shop to guard it.
The young man gulps as he takes in your scar, your muscle and obvious fighting bulk. "We don't want any trouble."
__________________
VAENATHIS
__________________
It's clear that you (or rather, the prospect of seeing Key) have Timmor's undivided attention. He nods eagerly and goes with you.
You are both destined to disappointment however: the half-elf with the rainbow-coloured eyes has made herself scarce. Your mother looks at you neutrally. "Your... friend... left just after you all did, but she asked me to pass on her thanks." She has already removed the bedding from that room and washed it thoroughly; it hangs drying from the balcony.
She smiles at Timmor and offers him coffee and porridge; they argue again over the prospect of whisky, and it is again denied to him. Once he is engaged with his food in his usual noisy manner, she takes you to one side for a ritual scolding
Easy. Easy. Lorick says holding up his hands placatingly and backing away Don't want trouble myself. Was actually, uh, looking to buy a few things. Lorick motions to the monk spade on the rack of exotic looking weapons between them. It wasn't a well made weapon and seemed fated to gather dust either in the shop or as a curio on some bored nobleman's wall. Lorick had a few other ideas for it though.
Trying to ease the tension in the room Lorick repeats a phrase that he'd once heard Miyoto murmuring to himself before he had entered the older man's hovel. The way Miyoto had said it had left a deep impression on the young Lorick's mind as there had been something very gently sad in the tone of his master's voice. Hoping it's something that wouldn't insult the terrified shop keepers. Lorick repeats
Yuàn nǐ dùguò zuì měihǎo de xīnnián
Field Marshal Croft makes a wry face in response to your questions: "Well, quite a lot of them were killed in the riots; the rest are doing the same as everyone else, laying low and seeing what happens."
__________________
EVELYN
__________________The market is urgently busy, with a sense of fear and dread; supplies of food are already low and many stalls close early as they run out of stock. The only thing that prevents actual fights from breaking out is the presence in overwhelming numbers of the Korvosan Guard. Many of them show obvious injuries, and all of them are unshaven and fatigued; they're clearly doing double shifts. Some haven't slept at all.
=========
Alynis smiles cheerfully at you as you enter her forge. "Just in time for tea and a little snack of something, you are! Glad I am to see you, too, after all them goings-on..." She blinks at the stack of gold coins you deposit in front of her. "Name of Aroden, my girl, you'd have to eat like the Queen to owe me that much, so!"
The halfling's kind eyes look at you with interest. "And just what have you been doing to come by that sort of money? Tell you what, have a cuppa and I'll take payment in the form of your story... Maybe if you keep the money, you'll be able to afford a proper blade soon!"
A master smith, Alynis considers any weapon that's not masterwork to be little better than a farm implement.
Evelyn scoffs "Alynis, dear! It's bad for business to be turning down proper payment, don't you know? Especially when it comes from the pockets of royalty" she says with a grin "After all, this bullion is a finder's fee on behalf of the Queen, for finding her precious bauble."
__________________
EVELYN
__________________
"Royalty, eh?" Alynis raises one eyebrow cautiously, before grinning broadly. "And you went before them looking like that, did you? Wonder what they thought of you, so I do. Have some more tea and tell all, my dear girl."
After some more argument, she agrees to take the money. "Far more than you've ever cost me, it is, but if it'll salve your conscience then far be it from me to refuse. Thank you."
__________________
LORICK
__________________
The youth winces at Lorick's attempt to speak Tian. "Don't do that, please." His own accent is native Korvosan, thick enough to float rocks on.
The elderly man behind him pipes up in Tian; the young man replies in the same tongue. This goes on for some time. He turns to you. "My uncle wants to know if you're Miyoto's whelp - his words, not mine. Says not many, um, locals" - he pauses briefly and looks embarrassed; it's clear that he is translating into a different word from what was actually used - "would be interested in our goods and that Miyoto always described you as big and butt-ugly - his words, not mine," he again adds hastily.
He looks at you curiously, as his uncle continues his story in Tian. "If you are, that's quite a legend: Miyoto had to fight to be permitted to train a... local. Apparently he just sighed, said 'water runs downhill' and beat the crap out of everyone who disagreed with him."
He smiles. "So my uncle says, for Miyoto's whelp we're open for business. Miyoto's his cousin, you see. Please, let me know what you would like."
Vaen sighs softly as he rolls his eyes dramatically. The smile on his lips though shows there is no ill will, simply the exasperation sons feel when their mothers scold them or suggest what might be best for them.
A look from her in response to his words causes a chuckle to escape from his lips before he places a gentle kiss on her head.
"You worry too much."
Lorick relaxes and settles back on his heels with a grin. Guilty on all counts he says letting his hands fall to his side and giving a deep bow. This, at least, he knew he was doing correctly as memories of Miyoto whacking him with an old quarterstaff until he got his form correct flood back. Thank your uncle and aunt for me and let 'em know that I apologize for being disrespectful and breaking into your store like I did. I was looking for something to protect myself with and I think that spade is exactly what I need. What's your name kid? I'm Lorick, though if you want to keep calling me Miyoto's whelp I'm fine with that.
Gehenna's experience at the Acadamae is nothing less than shocking. In her experience, the truth behind bad rumors was typically worse than the rumors themselves, but everything she had feared about the Acadamae seemed (at least on the surface) to have been false.
Briefly, this revelation causes despair to swell within her chest. I could have been here, learning and developing all this time! she thinks. Thankfully, the despair quickly dies when Gehenna realizes a certain irony: for the Acadamae to have actually been a safe haven for her, a place Lamm couldn't possibly ever breach, it would have needed to have been as bad as she had imagined it. The somewhat juvenile (a description Gehenna regarded with fondness) reception she had received, and the ease of entrance, proved in Gehenna's mind that this was no sanctuary. At least not as long as Lamm lived.
As far as the attention went, Jezebel was keen as ever on the quickest route to making Gehenna uncomfortable. Knowing that any prolonged discussion would break the student's illusions, Gehenna spoke only sparingly; feigning aloofness in order to avoid disappointing her temporary admirers (or herself).
__________________
GEHENNA
__________________
"Playing hard to get, eh?" Jezebel's whispers are slightly slurred; they've been free with the drink here (you wouldn't know that outside the city is teetering on the edge of anarchy). "'s OK, Gee - I understand: keep 'em keen and wanting more, right?" She winks. The remaining students have departed, or are snoring lightly, sleeping under the table.
Jezebel yawns and stretches, languidly. "C'mon. You can have my bed. Don't worry, I'll sleep on the floor. Won't kill me for a night." She grins easily and motions you to follow her with a flick of her blonde hair.
The bed is soft, the sheets are clean and fresh, and sleep is easy to come by. The only distractions are those in your own head, whatever they might be...
__________________
LORICK
__________________
The young man returns your bow. "My name is Jie. Bai-dao Jie. This is my uncle Jin-ma and my aunt Mei. We would be honoured to have your business, Lorick."
He hesitates briefly. "And my uncle would like to know if you have heard from Miyoto recently."
__________________
VAENATHIS
__________________
Alina shakes her head.
With a blink of her violet eyes, she sweeps away to run the countless chores which keep the tavern open for business.
__________________
EVERYONE
__________________
Mindful of Field Marshal Croft's warnings of what is to come, you assemble by mutual consent before dawn at Alina's tavern. Alina serves coffee and tea, but the fine food of yesterday is now a memory; there were no further provisions to be had at the market. Instead you get a half-bowl of porridge, eked out with a little milk and a suspicion of jam.
The violet-eyed woman apologises in her accented Common. "We shan't run out of oats, for a while at least. But I'm afraid that is the best I can offer. And after today, there'll be no milk unless I can find a miracle."
Right now, similar conversations are being had across the city. It's time to leave for your new employment - or whatever your arrangement with Croft is called.
Things outside are looking bleak; a Spring rain falls, gently but persistently, soaking you and wetting the streets and passersby, many of whom are travelling in groups and looking belligerent. But they are not the only perils in the city right now. You are walking down Harbourview Boulevard when it happens: the street beneath you starts to shake before it cracks apart, long fissures running lengthways across the bricks. The road just ahead of you bursts apart upwards, raining chunks of rock and broken bricks on the surrounding area.
A blast of fetid, sewage-rank air hits you, ripe with the stench of filth and garbage, heralding the approach of something very large, extremely ugly - and evidently hungry. Its gaping maw and tentacles grab two unfortunate civilians, who are dead almost before they know what hit them. The remainder flee in terror, screaming for the Guard, for help, even for the Hellknights.
Lorick's expression shifts back to a habitually grim, stony expression Tell your uncle that your people were not the only ones who took an interest in Miyoto training me. A crime lord holds Miyoto hostage in order to force me to work for him and keep Miyoto safe. If it's the last thing I do I will make sure Miyoto is freed. I swear it.
He also takes out the rations from his kit and lays them on the counter along with the gold for his purchases. Things are going to get worse 'fore they get better. Hunker down and I'll check in on you lot when I can Lorick then leaves and holds the boards in place while Bai-dao Jie hammers them back in place.
After she finishes catching up with her friend, Evelyn returns to the Grey District to add her new furnishings to her home.
The next day she returns to the group. The bleak situation in the city hardly seems to have dampened her mood. She accepts her meal graciously; she had been well-fed lately, no doubt.
Unfortunately, the day takes a sour turn as some horrid wretch decides to make its way above ground. Or perhaps this was an opportunity. She had always wanted to be a knight, and what more knightly profession was there than monster-slaying?
Round 1
"As if things weren't already bad enough... Very well, looks like it is time for us to play the hero." She reaches inside of her belt pouch and tosses out a knuckle bone. A simple incantation causes a skeleton to form around the bone in turn, and Evely directs it forward while drawing her own blade.
2 acts to use Summon Monster I, summoning Human Skeleton. Augment Summoning adds +4 STR and CON.
1 act to draw Longsword
Skeleton:
2 acts to Charge [Tentacle Demon]
1 act to attack with claw
Strange day, yesterday. Good day, yesterday, Juliet thinks as she wakes and stretches in her bed. Then, with no more reflection she's up, to munch on leftover fish and find her clothes for the day. The same leather boots and azure cloak, but with a black blouse, tan traveling pants, and a slim braided belt typical to Varisian men.
Outside, it kind of sucks. Drizzle. Roving groups of stressed people. Juliet keeps her hood up and her head down, and is soaked before long, her mood dampening by the minute. When she arrives at Alina's though, she's back to being sunny. Everyone's alive, and some have even gone shopping, it looks like.
"Look at you, kid, with your brand new armor! You look badass!" It is a bit of teasing, of course, but its evident from her tone Juliet's not being mean-spirited - she's genuinely happy the kid's gotten to spend some money.
"I had a weird day. Reacquainted myself with the Chelish ambassador's son, met Korvosa's foremost ocarina player and got insulted by his sister. Read a bit too. Anyways, porridge!"
---------------
Hero. The kid had tossed the word out. And she was damn right. Bonafied deputy heroes, they were. But heroes act, girl.
Two stiffs in the street in a matter of seconds, Juliet knows she's gotta be careful, maneuver around this thing, let Lorick and Vaen take it from the front. Drawing Spite, Juliet runs around the side of the creature and then tries to slide in under one of its tentacles, stumbling a bit on some rubble. Bringing her blade up, Juliet stabs at the tentacle atop the thing's head, trying to put some eyes out.
Lorick's mood is mixed as they head towards the guardpost. Meeting Miyoto's cousin and his family just reinforces for Lorick the blame that falls on his shoulders for Miyoto's current imprisonment. The large weapon strapped across his back comforts him though. It reminds him of the quarterstaff Miyoto had started to train Lorick with before Lamm had got his hands on him.
Despite being lost in his thoughts the trembling of the ground underfoot gives Lorick some advance warning of something happening.
There's something... he manages to get out before the monster roars out from under the street.
Seen those things in the sewers before... he gasps out as he sees what they're facing We avoided 'em as much as possible. Let's see if it bleeds.
Lorick closes the distance between them quickly and tries to angle his motion so he'd be just a bit harder to hit. Swiping at the monster with the sharpened shovel end of the spade before Lorick follows up with a hard elbow aimed at whatever might stagger the monster.
Lorick ends the spin with a much wilder attempt at a stab with the crescent end of the spade.
First Action Move 30 feet
Use 2 Stamina on Dodge Stamina ability to bump up AC by 1 for next round. So AC is 15.
Second Action Flurry
No way that hit but still DC 12 Fort stave or stunned
Third Action Standard attack.
"Well, now that? That is ugly," Vaen remarks as he follows Lorick's example and quickly moves to engage the creature, charging it and drawing his curved blade as he does so. As soon as the half-elf is close enough, he brings his sword down in a vertical slash, though his strike does appear to be less than accurate.
"Why couldn't it have been a giant flower or some such?" Gehenna says despondently. "Something that would bleed fine floral scents and not..." she ends her sentence abruptly as she closes her mouth; hoping in vain to keep from tasting the creature's foul stink on her tongue.
She mumbles a quick incantation and raises a barrier of force around herself before warily stepping close to the beast.
The large beast howls gutturally as Lorick's spade slashes into its hide; to your surprise it speaks Common.
Nobody else manages to hit the thing. In turn, its bite takes a chunk out of his flesh, adding to the scars he is carrying. Its chitin-tipped, barbed tentacles flail at its other attackers (ignoring the skeleton as not having any meat on it), again missing Juliet, but one catches Vaenathis before he can get his guard back up. The tentacle briefly threatens to constrict him, but he is able to avoid it.
Initiative:
Lorick 21
Gehenna 19
Beast 13
Vaenathis 11
Juliet 9
Evelyn 5
Juliet lines up the creature, and with three quick thrusts, aims again for the creature's stalk, trying to pierce as many of its eyes as possible. She's into the rhythm now, step thrust grunt, step thrust grunt, step thrust grunt, a satisfied smirk growing as each time Spite's tip strikes home.
Pushing the smelly monster away Lorick grits his teeth and says No food for anyone in the city so you either run away or we're gonna put you down. and then, trying to imitate something he once saw Miyoto demonstrate with a quarterstaff to remind him of how clumsy and uncoordinated he was when he started his training, Lorick whirls trying to slash the monster with each end of his spade twice. Oddly enough it's only the clumsy end of his twirl that seems to result in any damage.
Second Action Standard attack.
Third Action Standard attack.
Round 2
Evelyn stays back from the skirmish, content to harrow the creature with spells and direct her undead companion.
Evelyn
2 acts to cast Daze Monster (DC 14)
Skeleton
5 foot step to try and get flanking with someone. 3 acts to make all natural attacks.
Gehenna inches forward, allowing the arcane energies channeled through the gourmand to flow through her to sharpen her concentration. She searches for an opportunity to attack as the tentacled beast thrashes around at her companions.
Action 1 & 2: Gehenna casts divine favor.
Action 2: 5-foot step closer to monster.
Lorick's attacks severely wound the starveling beast; it howls and slavers with rage, and bites him again in return. In a blind rage, its tentacles miss Juliet and Vaenathis, causing it to writhe in fury - before Juliet nimbly steps in and stabs it twice, precisely, killing it stone dead.
With a shudder and final moan of "so hungry..." it dies, a quivering smelly mess on one of Korvosa's main thoroughfares.
Juliet wipes the blood from Spite, dragging the blade across one of the dead citizen's clothes, unwilling to dirty her own.
"Well then. We're deputy heroes, not janitors. I'm sure someone will be along to clean this thing up. To the citadel?"
Lorick pushes the dead creature off of him and moves away as it slops to the ground.
Know what it's like to be hungry. Seems like a lot of people are going to find out soon unless someone gets a handle on things.
He nods at Juliet. Hope they got a cleric handy. Thing got two good bites out of me
"It did not bite me, but its tentacle hurt," Vaen says as he sheathes his sword. "At least I should be thankful it did not manage to grab me, yes?"
"And I hardly think anyone expects us to tidy up after fighting for our lives, Juliet," he adds with a wink at the swordswoman.
Just before the skeleton returns from whence it came, Evelyn has it push the corpse of the beast back into the sewer.
"Hopefully we won't be too delayed from this incident. It is unbecoming of heroes such as we to arrive late."
Juliet chuckles. "I should hope not, Vaen." Looking to the creature, covered in filth and sewage, Juliet's voice rises an octave, barely able to contain its glee. "Why, that would make this deputy hero gig quite the, ah, s%%&ty job. Tee-hee."
The singer can't help but whistle as Evelyn orders her "relative" to push the creature back into the sewer. "Brilliant, kid, brilliant!" Looking to the couple of corpses laying in the street, Juliet frowns, her jovial mood gone with her fast-ebbing adrenaline. "Perhaps your uncle or whoever that is could drag these poor souls to the side of the road as well. Get them out of the street at least. And, yes, Lorick, I imagine the guard has a cleric about. Only fair they make one available to us with the work we're going to be doing for them."
"Her?" says Evelyn, with a raised eyebrow as she directs the skeleton in its new task. "SHE", with no lack of added emphasis, "is the revered scholar Fuanty of Touron. She's my forebear by six generations, though twice removed along the way."
The skeleton returns from its chore, standing slack-jawed and slouched as it awaits a command. Evelyn grips the knuckle bone from earlier and gently returns it to her pouch, dismissing the creature in the process.
"Onward, yes?"
Juliet smiled. "I can't believe I didn't notice Ms. Fuanty's... ahh curvy figure. Now that you mention it, I realize just how happy those large hips would have made some man back in her time. Faunty of Touron had quite the frame for childbearing! Did she have many children?"
Sometimes so sincere, sometimes so snarky, always hard to read. Juliet supposed that was what happened when one spent all her time around dead people. The singer had to admit though, the kid was growing on her.
"Oh my, yes!" says Evelyn with a chuckle "The deGrey's are quite prolific. Faunty especially was a bit of a homebody, she had 3 children of her own along with another two adopted."
The enthusiasm that Evelyn has as she speaks on the topic is palpable. In fact, it seems almost as if she has completely forgotten their current task.
Vaenathis raises an eyebrow at the exchange between the two young women. The little mannerism could very well be complemented by a chuckle, but he at least manages to suppress that. He does not have anything to add to the whole thing, though he does afford the dead bodies a sad look.
'At the wrong place at the wrong time, I suppose,' he thinks as moves along with the rest of his new friends.
Sadly, Field Marshal Kroft is not swayed by your claims to her largesse - or rather, to the largesse of the priests of Abadar. She eyes your injuries with a superficial glance: "You'll mend." She is rather more concerned with how you came by them: a revolt of the otyughs who dispose of Korvosa's garbage is the very last thing she - or the city - needs right now.
The unrest has worsened: there is no further food to be had in the markets, because the drovers who come in by cart found the roads blocked; and the sea-merchants found no dockers on the wharfs to unload their cargo. Deprived of food, the city is at risk of falling apart - Korvosa is, at heart, a series of neighbourhoods; and in emergency it is reverting to that status. Barricades have been seen on the streets - andk like a red rag to a bull, they have attracted the ire of the Hellknights. But even the fearsome Order of the Nail cannot be everywhere at once; and no sooner is one barricade brought down than another springs up.
In an effort to restore order, the Palace has decreed rationing, sending the Korvosan Guard to commandeer the granaries and warehouses. This has not been well received by the locals. A number of the Guard have been lynched by enraged, baying mobs.
So Field Marshal Kroft has much to concern her other than your plight. "I need you - I can't spare a single man or woman under my command. If the otyughs are unfed, they'll rampage further. It's dirty work, but that's what heroes have to do occasionally."
Thus ordered, you spend the remains of the day gathering up... well, gathering up the remains of yesterday and carting the garbage down into the tunnels where the otyughs gather. It is smelly, exhausting, dirty, thankless work and it leaves you covered from head to foot in indescribable foulness. But it does at least mean that you aren't on the front lines - and, hearing the din of an entire city roused to fury, that is something to be thankful for.
As evening falls, and Korvosa burns once more, most of the citizens retreat for the night and Field Marshal Kroft wearily dismisses you with her thanks. She even arranges for one of the retained wizards to use her cantrips to restore you to something resembling cleanliness: wrinkling her nose, the golden-eyed, golden-haired fiend-spawn does her best not to touch you as she goes about her work; she and Gehenna seem to be familiar with one another; at least, they exchange a few murmurs which the rest of you can't quite hear.
Finally, you take advantage of the cover of night and the pall of smoke to creep back to your lodgings. Old Korvosa is still inaccessible, but Alina's tavern is (relatively) safe...
Getting your great grandma to do your muck racking doesn't seem like exactly a respectful thing to be doing. Lorick comments as another one of the skeletons summoned by Evelyn helps him drag a particularly smelly load of trash down the tunnels. Appreciate the help though ma'am he says ducking his head towards the skeleton.
Rubbing the still store bite mark on his neck at the end of the day he says Lamm expected me to pay for my own healing too. Skinflints the lot of them. Guess I'll be sleeping this off.
There's not much to be said about Juliet's day, other than that she'd rather be fighting, f$%~ing, or singing, all things considered, than shoveling that damn creature back down into the sewers. Despite her best efforts to beg off of as much work as possible, the singer's glumly covered in muck all the same by the end of the day, and thankful for the wizardly cleaning.
Sighing as darkness falls, Juliet looks out onto the fires lit, Korvosa burning, thankful that at least the otyugh-shoveling had kept her mind occupied from the chaos happening all around.
Turning to Lorick, the singer offers a commiserating smile. "I wish I could help. A warm bath and bed and you'll feel better in the morning, I promise." Indeed, the prospect of a warm bath sounded pleasant indeed, but there was little chance any of the public baths would be open tonight. "Vaen, I'd like to rent a room at your mother's tonight, if she's got any available."
Alina's tavern does indeed have rooms available - because of her past troubles she gets little trade at the best of times. She is happy to offer any of you a room, but smilingly refuses offers of payment. "You look after my boy, keep him out of trouble, yes? Is all the payment I need."
You pass an uneasy night, but the sound of rioting does not return, beyond the occasional clash as would-be looters meet the wrath of the Hellknights and/or squabble with each other over a particularly nice item.
...
..
.
__________________
LORICK
__________________
You wake up in a bad way; your wounds have suppurated during the night and you have a fever. At the same time, you have a chill that hits right down to your bones. Whatever was in that thing's bite, it's clear that you have got it.
Waking up shivering and sweaty Lorick grunts as he struggles out of bed. The symptoms are incredibly familiar to anyone who has spent as much time as he has hiding out in the sewers underneath the city.
Filth Fever. Of all the luck he groans when he meets the others downstairs. I'm going to be useless today unless I get some clerical help.
Evelyn is not one to wallow around in muck and filth. When the time comes she summons the spirit of Sir deGrey and covers him in a large cloak to hide his potentially frightening visage. From there she simply directs him in her stead.
----------
"Perhaps Lady Kroft will be more sympathetic were we to ask her again for aid, seeing as in this instance you would be hopeless without."
Lorick nods wearily at Evelyn Hey, could you or Gehenna, cast your magic armor business on me when we get in a scrap? Maybe when we finally get paid I'll spring for a wand of it or somesuch
Juliet's digging into some warm oats for breakfast when Lorick arrives, looking like the proverbial Ustalavan leper. Despite her efforts to look supportive, the singer finds herself inching away from the legbreaker.
"Yep. We're a team. Like a catapult. And you're the arm that throws the big balls. Without you, we're all hopeless, just a poorly-designed cart." Of course, even a poorly designed cart can ferry a dead otyugh around, Juliet thinks, but she keeps that bit to herself.
"I suppose I could do something like that" muses Evelyn "But you'll have to stick close to me until I cast it."
At the end of her struggles, Gehenna was nothing short of mortified to find Jezebel on-hand afterwards.
"I may have made a huge mistake," she says wearily to the tiefling woman in hushed voice. Her wry smile does little to belie the defeat in her voice. "I may be predisposed towards it."
---
Very Early Morning
After another dip into the wine rations, Gehenna joins the rest of the group downstairs.
"A-ah, certainly, Lorick," she says with all the vitality of a wilting flower. "Still, what a hard woman that Kroft is... failing clerical aid, she could at least part with an alchemical concoction to help combat the disease. With the city deteriorating so quickly, we may not be able to purchase supplies of our own for much longer."
As it happens, once you reach Citadel Volshyenek (with only a few minor incidents on the way), you find Field Marshal Kroft in consultation with an acolyte of Abadar: the pale robes and silver (rather than gold) key symbol around his neck indicate his low rank. He is dark-skinned - so muh so that he can only be Vudran in origin - and pleasant-looking, without the slightly avaricious cast to his face that many of the priesthood develop.
Kroft makes a face when she sees Lorick's illness. "My apologies. I didn't have the resources to spare yesterday, but the Church of Abadar has seen fit to offer more aid. This is Acolyte Ishani Dhatri."
The dark-skinned priest bows. "Glad to make your acquaintance. It is good to see Korvosa's citizens doing something other than rioting... Now, let me see, if I may?" He approaches Lorick diffidently, out of polite reserve rather than fear of illness. Wincing as he examines Lorick's wounds, he takes out a scrip of paper; as he does so, you spy a number of herbal concoctions and potions in his pack. Carefully reading aloud, he lays hands on Lorick - and the disease vanishes as if it never was. For good measure, he patches up the remaining wounds as well.
Lorick sighs with relief as the disease and the remaining wound from the otyugh's bite disappear. Clerical healing had been an unattainable miracle his whole life and it was with a little bit of shock that Lorick realizes that he has managed to get to a place in his life where such miracles were now readily available.
He nods in thanks. 'Preciate it. Don't suppose you'd like to join our little gang as we go about trying to fix Korsova