"Something tells me I know the answer to that particular question, especially considering the circumstances," Vaenathis interjects with a soft sigh, though his tone is not indicative of a lack of understanding.
"I am assuming you are needed here, yes?" The question is directed at the acolyte, though he half-expects what the answer will be.
Ishani gives a warm smile, and an apologetic half-shrug "I doubt you could afford my services, I'm afraid."
"Well then, Mr. Ishani, thank you. And Ms. Kroft, thank you - I'm sure that the Bank of Abadar is charging a pretty penny for their services. Not that the queen can't afford it."
"Now, I assume that we didn't come here today for polite conversation - is there something you'd have us do? I'm afraid there's no more otyughs to shovel, at least not on our route."
If Juliet's tone contains just the slightest amount of snark, it is only because the singer can't help herself. Surely Kroft can round up some sucker guardsmen to take out the trash.
Evelyn keeps quiet, content to let her older companions speak for once.
Kroft gives Juliet a hard stare. "Right now, Korvosa is teetering on the edge of anarchy. Be grateful you haven't been on the front lines. But in answer to your question, yes, there is something you can do for me."
She sighs.
“As much as it pains me to admit, a number of my own men have lost their way and are going rogue. Many guards have deserted their posts, more concerned about friends and family than the city. I can understand this, yet not all of the deserters have family — some of them are simply using the riots as an excuse for personal gain. One such man is Verik Vancaskerkin. Worse than a lone deserter, he’s convinced a small group of fellow guards that Queen Ileosa is going to ruin the city. Whether she does or doesn’t isn’t the point — right now, we’ve got a city-wide crisis on our hands, and I need all of my guards working with me to see us through. A deserter is worse than a lost resource — it’s an infection. I can’t afford to pull any of my other patrols off duty to deal with Vancaskerkin, and I’d rather not expose any of them to him anyway, since I neither want Vancaskerkin to infect more guards with his talk of secession, nor do I want some overly patriotic guard killing Vancaskerkin outright. I need you."
“Vancaskerkin and his men have holed up somewhere up in Northgate — I don't know where exactly. I need you to find out and see what they're up to. Try to avoid killing any of the deserters if you can, but if you must, they brought it upon themselves when they threw in their lot with Vancaskerkin. For him, I’d really prefer it if you could capture him alive and return him to me for interrogation, but if he makes that impossible, I’ll accept his body as well."
"Finally, see if you can find out why Verik deserted — if there’s more to it than simple personal politics, I need to know immediately. Bring me Verik alive, and there’s a thousand gold in it for you. Dead, he’s only worth half that.”
She gives a half-smile, half-grimace. "And if you manage to round up any other of my troops who've wandered from their duty and persuade them to return, they're worth 250 gold apiece. I'm short enough of troops as it is - as long as they haven't joined in the looting, I'm prepared to defer any punishments until things are back to normal."
"Well then, Commander Kroft, you've come to the right people for this job. I happen to love to talk. And we're very tenacious investigators. And I stay in Ridgepoint, nearby. But Northgate is still a big place - we'll need to ask around a bit to try and locate this Vancaskerkin. Vancaskerkin..." Juliet trails off, trying to place the name.
"We'll bring you in Vancaskerkin. And any guards he's managed to infect." Juliet gives Kroft what is surely her most radiant smile. Talking, investigating, then the promise of a fight? The day held all the promise of an opera's opening night!
Not killing folk is kind of a speciality of mine Lorick says cracking his knuckles and grinning.
Any guards 'round here we could talk to that knew the traitor?
"Bounty hunting, is it? Sounds like it'll be a ball. Ironic too, given the circumstances."
"It does all sound rather straightforward, sure," Vaenathis remarks after listening to the task they are to undertake. And he smiles when Juliet comments on it, especially when she speaks of how she likes to talk. 'Hopefully it will go better than when she last tried to use her eloquence,' he thinks to himself. Still, he has to admit that the woman has a way with words, and if they are to manage to capture this Very alive, she might be their best bet.
"What she said," he says finally, agreeing with the swordswoman's optimism. He may not share it entirely as things have a habit of generally going not quite as planned, but he does agree with the sentiment.
"A job's a job," Gehenna says, easily falling into line.
Gehenna reflects that her own skill-set should prove useful in subduing the enemies they come up against. As long as she could keep herself focused and not get caught up in the violence of the situation.
Juliet looks around for a guard, one that's older, with a wedding band. Finding a middle aged guard smoking a pipe against a wall, Juliet approaches and reaches into her belt pouch, removing the 10 gold coins kept there. Jangling them in her hand, Juliet cocks an eyebrow and shrugs.
"Tough few days, eh? Probably not worth the money, what with everyone that's deserting. Or so I hear. Like Vancaskerkin. I dunno if you like that guy, cause he's a good guy, has your back on the streets, or hate him, 'cause he left you here to pick up the pieces without the help of him and his gang, but we're going to bring him back, alive. And his crew. And the crew will get put back to work. Maybe you get a night at home, spend it with your wife and kids, if we bring those guys back? Maybe this ten gold helps your wife find some food for the table now food's scarce? That's if you know where Vancaskerkin is. If you don't but can find me a guard who does, you still get five dragons as a finders fee."
"I dunno how you feel about Vancaskerkin, but I know this. Him taking those others with him is f@@!ing you, whether he means to or not. Help me help you, chinney?"
Juliet holds the gold out, holding the guards stare, trying to read the honesty of his response...
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."
Jezebel's golden eyes sparkle with veiled amusement. "Darling, half the fun of life is in mistakes - or correcting them. When you decide what you want, you know where I'll be, hmmm?"
With a perfect flick of her perfect golden hair, she breathes "Come and find me when you've made up your mind" and is gone.
Any guards 'round here we could talk to that knew the traitor?
Kroft nods. "Plenty. Knowledge of his desertion hit morale rather badly. They might talk to you; or they might not."
She looks briefly weary; too much has happened too fast that is out of the usual run of things. "I'm not going to order anyone to speak to you - look on it as a test of initiative."
Juliet looks around for a guard, one that's older, with a wedding band. Finding a middle aged guard smoking a pipe against a wall, Juliet approaches and reaches into her belt pouch, removing the 10 gold coins kept there. Jangling them in her hand, Juliet cocks an eyebrow and shrugs.
"Tough few days, eh? Probably not worth the money, what with everyone that's deserting. Or so I hear. Like Vancaskerkin. I dunno if you like that guy, cause he's a good guy, has your back on the streets, or hate him, 'cause he left you here to pick up the pieces without the help of him and his gang, but we're going to bring him back, alive. And his crew. And the crew will get put back to work. Maybe you get a night at home, spend it with your wife and kids, if we bring those guys back? Maybe this ten gold helps your wife find some food for the table now food's scarce? That's if you know where Vancaskerkin is. If you don't but can find me a guard who does, you still get five dragons as a finders fee."
"I dunno how you feel about Vancaskerkin, but I know this. Him taking those others with him is f*~@ing you, whether he means to or not. Help me help you, chinney?"
Juliet holds the gold out, holding the guard's stare, trying to read the honesty of his response...
The Korvosan Guard are famously - notoriously - incorruptible. They serve the City of Korvosa first; the Church of Abadar second; and the monarchy a distant - a very distant - third. They cannot be bribed or bought, and under normal circumstances, those who try find the remainder of their brief lives full of incident.
These are not normal circumstances. Warily, the grizzled corporal filches the money from Juliet's hand as if half-ashamed. "Vancaskerkin's good people - if he's gone rogue, he'll still see it as part of his duty. Probably thinks he can protect his patch better if he's there full time. I heard he took over one of the butcher shops, kept meat distribution open."
He sighs. "Been tempted to join him, to be honest. Hard to see what good we're doing here. Specially after Old Korvosa, and poor Captain Somelen..." He trails off, unsure whether to keep talking or whether he's said enough/too much.
Somelen? Lorick becomes more alert when he hears what the corporal has to say What happened to him? I mean... I heard from Soldado that he was busy... but didn't know with what Lorick finishes a bit lamely hoping that name dropping Soldado might encourage the guard to keep going.
While the others are speaking to members of the guard, Evelyn wanders off in search of her own associate: Ianril Onyxarm
The corporal doesn't quite meet Lorick's eye. "Didn't realise you knew him. Let's say he's not quite so busy now." He hesitates. "And you know Soldado, do you? That's good people, not many Moths in the Guard."
He hesitates again, unsure of how much to tell you, before blurting out "Palin Street. There's a dive there, serves anything to anyone. You wanna know about Somelen and Soldado, that's where you go."
Looking around nervously to see that nobody's watching, he nods at you and hurries away.
Juliet smiles and pats the corporal on the shoulder. "There's no shame in taking this money, friend. We're on the same side, and I'm glad you'll have a little something for your family in this tough time. If that's all Vancaskerkin is up to, then there'll be no harm done, I'm sure. We just need to find out."
"And in my opinion, don't go join Vancaskerkin. Purposely or not, every desertion is making everyone else's job here more difficult."
Nodding a quick goodbye, Juliet turns as she says. "I'm Juliet. I'll let you know what happens with Vancaskerkin. Stay safe."
Looking to Lorick, Juliet takes in his demeanor, possibly that there's a bit of worry under that stony expression. "You want to check on your friend? I know Palin Street well. Or we could head towards Northgate, beat the streets, look for a butcher. Shouldn't be too hard to find a local knows of a place is still selling meat, chinney?"
Evelyn returns from her search somewhat dejected; her search had been fruitless. At least the others had had better results.
"I think we should make the detour to Palin Street," Vaenathis offers. "It is at the northwest end of North Point, right? Perhaps what we find out there about Somelen and Soldado will not only grant Lorick some piece of mind, but it may be useful when we finally find this Vancaskerkin and have a talk with him."
Looking back towards the corporal, he adds with a shrug, "Going by what we just learnt about him ,he atually sounds fairly reasonable."
Lorick comes back from a faraway expression. Yeah. Palin Street sounds good. This Vancascerkin... seems like he's just protecting his own. Can't blame him for that. We can talk on the way. the big man shuts down making it clear he's not going to be saying anything else until they're on the road.
"Sure... I don't mind," Gehenna murmurs.
It was true. From the sounds of things this detour for Lorick would not end happily, but it still seemed like more of a good deed than their primary mission did.
"I wonder if he's under pressure. Or duress." she muses as they walk. "I understand the corrupt using the chaos to take advantage, but Verik's reputation doesn't..."
Doesn't seem to fit that particular mold Gehenna thinks as she trails off in thought.
"I wonder if he knows something we do not."
With the information you have, you leave the safety of Citadel Volshyenek and make the trek to the far corner of North Point.
The breakdown of law and order has had a number of consequences. Beyond the obvious rioting, looting and arson, the death of King Eodred II has brought the doomsayers and end-of-the-world lunatics out of the woodwork. One such wild-haired and sick-looking old man is standing on one of the street corners, fixating on the world with his mad eyes and ranting intermittently about the "Boneyard" and the "Eye of Groetus which sees all and judges all."
He gasps audibly when he sees you, and peers again to make sure he's not mistaken. Running over to Evelyn, he throws his arms around her feet. "Behold! It is as I have seen! The Whore-Queen shall rise, and Korvosa shall fall, and a little child shall lead them!"
From his prone position, arms firmly wrapped around Evelyn's legs, he looks up beseechingly. "Lead us, O holy Child! Defend us from the unclean and the impure!"
He doesn't show any sign of letting go any time soon.
Lorick sighs. Dealing with the crazed and deranged is something that anybody who lives in Old Korvosa has to do pretty much on a daily basis.
Yeah yeah Granddad. But the holy child can't do nothing if you cling on to her like a limpet. Yeah?
He says as he easily pries the man's grasp on Evelyn open and swings him around, interposing himself between the would be prophet and the summoner.
Evelyn scowls deeply and tries to pull away
"Ugh...are you some kind of pervert, old man? Let go of me!"
After Lorick has pulled him away Evelyn thanks him. She takes an opportunity to scold the deranged man again, while he is removed "Listen here, you. We're here on official Guard business and you're interfering. I should-!"
She pauses a moment as the rest of her mind catches up with her indignation.
"Wait a minute, what did you say?"
The would-be prophet writhes indignantly in Lorick's grasp. "Heretic! Unbeliever! You will burn with the others!"
He calms down (slightly) as Evelyn questions him. A pair of off-centre, wild eyes look at her pleadingly. "I have seen it, in my dreams - I, I alone was proved Worthy to see what is coming! And I have seen you - the holy Child, the Pure One! I see your nobility, the hidden lines of descent that conceal you from... Mockers." He glares again at Lorick. "None of the Scornful will inherit. Only the Pure shall be proved worthy of the Test. Thus it is, and thus it has always been."
He reaches out a hand to Evelyn, tentatively. "O, holy Child, though I am not worthy, I have seen! Is it not written that 'the Bloodline of the Inheritance shall come to pass at the Appointed Time?' And is it not the Appointed Time? Blood rains from the skies, the land is in famine and the Great Whore sits upon the throne."
He pauses, but only to draw breath.
"Holy Child, take my hand. Bless me and together we shall overthrow the Impure!"
"Uhhh..." Evelyn is taken aback by the deranged babbling. Normally she didn't pay much heed to doomsayers, but she was making an exception for this man on account of everything he had said sounding suspiciously true.
Or maybe she just liked the idea of being the 'holy child'.
She looks to the rest of the group, confused on what to do.
Easily keeping the madman away from Evelyn Lorick tries to figure out how genuine he is.
Hey now. I'm the "Holy Child's" bodyguard and it's completely up to her whose hand she takes. Yeah?
He continues to humour the crazed man.
"Ha! So, the kid's the secret heir to the Crimson Throne then? Evelyn, be a nice queen and let the nice man bless you so we can get on with our day."
Turning to the old man, Juliet's voice turns hard, her hand going to Spite's hilt. "Don't hurt the Holy Child, old man, or us heretics will snap your back like a chopstick, chinney? We're not burning any time soon..."
Evelyne half shrugs. With a deep breath she composes herself and then takes on her most regal aura (that she had been practicing up until now, just so you know).
"Hear me then, prophet! Go forth and uhhh...carry yourself with pride! You have been blessed with y grace, so hear now my command:"
"Time shall attend to the falling of cities, not we. Our duty is to the raising of the new from the ashes of the old. Seek to comfort your fellow citizens in this time of turmoil, that they may survive to see the glories of a new era."
And with that she closes her eyes and makes the holy symbol of Pharasma in the air using her hand over the man.
After waiting for a few breaths she peaks through one eye to see the fallout of her performance.
The old man's eyes gleam with wonder. "Yes. Yes! So shall it be, O Holy Child. Your First among the Disciples hears and obeys."
Making a low, creaky bow, he grasps Evelyn's hand gratefully once more, before shambling off whence he came.
You are free to continue on your way.
"Seems I'm a princess. Who knew?" offers Evelyn as she wipes her hand on her britches.
"Hopefully he doesn't cause any more trouble. Shall we continue on? I'm sure our defector would be more than pleased to meet royalty."
Two princesses in the group now. Well if your Highnesses will get a move on we might get some work done today Lorick snarks.
"So," Vaenathis quips after keeping quiet for a few seconds, "should we be lining up for a blessing or two? If not, I would also be fine with a duchy. Duke Konnal. It does have a certain ring to it, does it not?"
He pauses for a few seconds, though quite possibly not enough, before adding, "I rather liked when you talked about the falling of cities. Oh, and the bit about the ashes."
There may also be some snickering involved, but only a little.
"You're all so cheeky now but you heard our friend. Blood from the skies and whores, that's what awaits you if you make the Holy Child sour."
"Well, I'd dislike the bloody skies, ha!" Extending her arm in a sweeping bow, Juliet continues. "Shall we, your majesty?"
"Very well then." says Evelyn with all the pomp she muster.
North Point is still in a state of active unrest and there are several scenes of protest and riot, which are in the process of being put down - with extreme prejudice - by the Hellknights. Making it a point to avoid those confrontations, you take a series of indirect routes to your destination in Palin Street, traversing back alleys and, in more than one instance, going over a roof or through a back garden.
Consequently, it takes you most of the morning to get there. The place you are seeking turns out to be a cellar that is - barely - open onto the street. In the aftermath of the rioting and with the Guard being busy with other things, a number of unlicensed dives have opened up, selling whatever they can put into a cup and persuade people to drink.
This one doesn't even have a name. It looks to be run by the Sczarni, given the number of scarved and tattooed Varisians who seem to be around the place. Doubtless they're set up to move on at a moment's notice, if the Guard arrive - or one of the clientele dies. They look at you curiously, but it is (for the moment) a free city and anyone who wants a drink and can pay is welcome.
The interior is gloomy, lit by dribbling candles that are jammed here and there into crevices in the walls. The place reeks: of damp, unwashed bodies and the very hardest and vilest of liquors. This is not where you go to drink socially - it's where you go to drink yourself into oblivion. With what's happened out there, no wonder it's doing a good trade. People who've lost their homes, families, loved ones or their livelihood and who just want to forget the outside world completely; they end up here, or somewhere like it.
As your eyes adjust, you see in the far corner (with their back sensibly to a wall) two figures in what looks like the remains of a Guard uniform, slumped over a table made from a packing crate: a human and a dwarf.
Lorick moves in to the bar used to such places and, judging the mood of the patrons, steps softly to the back and says quietly to the human figure. Didn't figure you'd be here at a time like this
Juliet knew the type of place, this pop-up bar. And she understood of course, the people who would be found here - desperate folk in boxes, some of their own making, some of circumstance, all unable to see their ways out. Thinking of Lamm, Juliet lets out a deep sigh. If Juliet hadn't given all her money to the corporal, she'd buy a drink herself.
Regardless, Sczarni abounded. The singer followed Lorick's lead and tried to look nonchalant as she surveyed the room, looking for who would jump them if things went sour.
Evelyn smiles devilishly as she recognizes her old acquaintance. Better yet, he seems to have unfortunately passed out. She'd wake him up, in a moment.
She creeps up as silently as she can on the dwarf tries to lift his guard badge off of him.
Success or failure, she'll prod him awake afterwards.
Keeping his eyes on both the place and its patrons, as it would not do to be careless in a place like this, Vaen moves a little closer to Juliet.
"These two seem to have found some friends," he says with a smile, his turning towards Lorick and Evelyn. "Well, either that or our... princess is a kleptomaniac."
Gehenna tenses up as she takes in the sights and smells of the dive. She crosses both of her arms defensively, as if cold. Places like this seemed to teeter on the razor's edge of violence. After making a quick scan of the room, she turns her eyes downwards. So far the bar was full of the living, but it already looked like death to Gehenna.
In response to Vaen's quip, she looks up briefly to see Evelyn smile and reach toward's the dwarf.
"The Bloodline of Inheritance apparently applies the uniform of the Guard as well, she jokes poorly, her own tension evident in her voice.
As Evelyn carefully moves forward in the half-light of the bar, it is clear that both Guardsmen are hurt: cuts, bruises, torn uniform, and so on. More significantly from Evelyn's point of view, Ianril's badge is missing. Looks like it was torn clean off his uniform.
Sergeant Soldado stirs as Lorick addresses him, one bleary, bloodshot eye opening - the other eye is almost hidden from sight behind a nasty-looking cut. He shrugs at Lorick's remarks. "Don't wanna be anywhere else" he slurs. Whatever he's drunk, he's gone for quantity rather than quality.
Suddenly, out of nowhere and for apparently no reason whatsoever, Evelyn feels a twinge of guilt. Maybe something about seeing someone she knew by relatively well in such a sorry state.
...Gehenna, did you prepare any healing magic today?" she asks sheepishly.
Gehenna frowns, looking at both of the injured guards.
"Yes... but just one spell. So I can only help one of them," she admits.
Juliet smiles, as both Vaen and Gehenna brought wit with them to this tavern. "I suspect it isn't the first time our budding royal has lifted something off a drunk."
When Evelyn asks for healing, Juliet shrugs, interjecting her (unwanted) opinion, speaking about the two guards as if they aren't there. "Eh. It won't help. Well, it will help with the bumps and cuts. But they'll be right back here, in this fine establishment, carrying on the same behavior, unless you figure out what's the smell in their pisspot, chinney? They both need alternatives to whatever got them here, and motivation, and hope. Not magic."
"My two pennies, anyways."
Evelyn does not respond again to Gehenna. Instead she attempts to awake the dwarf.
Nudging him gently "Ianril, wake up." she says softly.
The dwarf wakes with a start "Huh? What?!" He looks around blearily, going for a sword that isn't there any more. He swears, and puts a hand under his grubby uniform, pulling out a dagger. Then his eyes focus and he sees Evelyn. "Huh. Watchu doin' here? Still, if you're here, 's your round!" He cracks up, drunkenly wheezing with laughter.
The Sergeant sitting opposite glares at him. "Shurrup, you! Don't wanna attract attention - b'sides, lookit you, drunk 'n uniform. You're a gisdrace - a risgaced - a..." he gives up, and settles for scowling drunkenly through his one good eye.
Ianril spits. "Garn! Not 's much as he is, though..."
They lock eyes, suddenly both pale - and considerably closer to sobriety. Sergeant Soldado is the first to blink "Said we weren't gonna mention that. Said we weren't gonna mention that, ever. We were gonna come here and forget. What you wanna go rem- rem- bringing that up for? I order you to forget it."
The dwarf is quiet. "Don't think I'm ever gonna forget that, Sarge. No matter how much you order it." Soldado nods in agreement, mutual understanding.
There's a moment of melancholy drunken silence. And then:
"Well, we're just not drinkin' enough - and we've been drinking by ourselves - thass the problem!" the Sergeant declares with a beam. "I know this guy, looks like you know 'er, there's some friends, less get drunk again."
Ianril bangs his tankard on the upturned crate, enthusiastically. "See, girl, like I said - it's your round!"
Lorick sits down. Things keep going the way they are, this place is going to be burned down just like the rest of this damned city. What by the Abyss happened Soldado? Last we met you were so straight you wouldn't even notice a broom shoved straight up your backside.