"I don't know?" Nebbin says earnestly. "I don't think I've ever used a crutch. I try to be careful and watch where I step. Also, I don't really mean to use it as a weapon. I just ... well, sometimes I have to hit someone with it. It's different, you know?"
"Well maybe we could dress up a staff as a crutch. It would just need a padded bar across the top. If we added something like that, you could just pull it off if you needed to fight."
The Reefclaw Run Market is mostly deserted and two of the stalls are burned out. Trash lies everywhere. You move quickly through the market and proceed up the hill.
Beyond the old curtain wall of Fort Korvosa you find that things are a little closer to normal. If anything, these streets seem too secure. As you enter the merchant's district you see Korvosan guards, Hellknights and private sell swords. The prices you find are standard and you're able to make mundane purchases from the standard equipment list, including alchemical supplies.
Nebbin follows along with the others as they sell off the recently acquired items and buy new gear and weapons that can act like not-weapons in the theater.
"Oh, I have some money if you need!"
Kayleigh's so worked up about Crayden's impending fate that she's next to useless in the negotiations with the merchants the group visits. She does get one antiquities dealer to open up and mention bluish-gray 'river ghosts' said to be stealing children.
As the group exhibits their treasures to the merchants, Kayleigh giggles and suggests they give the miniature gold crown to Tassira's cat familiar. She blushes deeply when she sights the entwined succubi but seems genuinely intrigued by the scrimshaw kraken. In the end, she argues to hold on to the two items with inscriptions (the silver ring and key-shaped dagger) to take a closer look at them a bit later.
Nebbin gasps as he realizes what the dagger could be.
"Oh no," he moans. "My mum used to tell me this scary story about the Keylock Killer, who she said would come get me if I didn't behave. It was when I was just a little boy, like 10 years ago, and he killed dozens of people with a key-shaped blade. They never caught him! Could Lamm have been him?!"
Kayleigh presses Nebbin for details about the Keylock Killer, trying to jog her own memory in the process.
Nothing about a Keylock Killer jogs Emileva's memory at all. Maybe that was in a different part of the city than Midlands.
She does chat for a while with the merchant about the grayish river ghosts, which is interesting stuff.
The thing that really catches her attention though is the dwarf, who seems to be acting off after he looks over the brooch.
Emileva narrows her eyes and leans in a little, looking from the brooch to the dwarf and back.
"I think you're trying to scam us with that price. Your face shows more interest in the brooch than your offer does. There's something unusual about it isn't there? What is it?"
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Hmm. Neziana hasn't posted since Jan. 22; you still with us?
peasant outfits - 2sp
quarterstaff -
smokesticks - 40 gp
Emileva - Composite Longbow, mwk kukri, oil of keen edge, one application of silversheen
Neziana - Shiver doses
Tassira - wand of magic missiles
Communal Cash (less cost of purchased items above): 1001g 3s
silver ring with an inscription in Taldan 'For Emma, the light in my nights' - 75g
arrowhead made of adamantium - 60g
bejeweled brooch with a broken clasp - 1000g
odd dagger with a blade shaped like a key - bears an inscription in Taldan which reads 'For an inspiration of a father' - 325g
Gaedran Lamm's ledger
Zellara's Head in a hatbox
Harrow Deck
The Dwarf withers under Emileva's eye.
"Alright," he placates, "It's the Queen's bloomin' brooch. It's the one she exploded about at court and made such an arse outta herself o'er. It was stolen from the jeweler that was supposed to be fixing it and she punished the jeweler. I guess you might'a caught up with the burglar? You don't look like burglars to me, so I'll give ya 1400 gp for the piece."
Nebbin and Kayleigh help each other remember some details of the Keylock Killer. He was a widely used boogey-man when you were kids. The 'truth' of the killer was supposed to be worse than the myth. He flayed his victims and made art of their corpses. Left his sharpened keys in his victims to be found, but was never found out himself. Eleven years is a very cold case though.
Emileva is stunned by what the dwarf tells her. The Queen's own possession? How could a such a thing end up lying in a sewer like Lamm's place?
But, this isn't the time for appearing stunned. She picks up the brooch and looks it over, front and back, to give herself a moment to collect her wits. She then looks back at the dwarf.
"Hm, so since we don't look like thieves you're willing to go ahead and fence a stolen item? An interesting ethical position."
"Or is it that there's a much larger reward for it's return? You're offering a goodly sum, obviously it's less than you can get yourself or why would you bother? But then, who would pay so much for an item they would hardly dare to wear in public.?"
She pauses and frowns at the dwarf. "I hope you weren't planning to return this to the Queen and then finger us as the thieves to collect a bigger reward... That sort of scheming would be... upsetting" she says with a hard look at him.
"No, I think we'll be keeping the brooch. We'll keep your offer in mind" she tells the dwarf, pocketing the brooch.
"It's alright miss. I can tell you and your friends are earnest. There's dark days coming to this town, that much I can tell you for sure. Worse days than today before things are very likely to get better. You lot remember this shop did you fair! It may be there is a reward for the bauble - I'd check at the castle. Twas a damned fool what stole it in the first place - who's gonna buy something no one would openly wear?"
---
Shadows of late afternoon streak across the deserted stalls of Reefclaw Run market as you come down off the hilltop. In the center of the market is a large ox-drawn wain with ramp extended. The Pharasmin spiral painted on the side of the wain is so faded you can barely make it out. Two men in deep cowls come around the corner, a corpse hoisted between them. They pause at the sight of you until a third comes up behind them.
"Steady brothers, only a few more of them to go and we'll head home for the day." The priest eyes you suspiciously as the other two hoist the corpse up the ramp.
The pair come back down the ramp and disappear among the stalls on the opposite side of the wain. The speaker checks the ox then makes his way to the side of the driver's box, his gaze turned East toward Old Dock. The shadow of the hill sits heavy on those chaotic streets, creating something of a false evening. There's the din of a crowd in that direction already, and your destination tonight lies in the center of it.
Kayleigh nods respectfully to the Pharasmans, all-too-accustomed to their presence in the dark and dangerous streets of Old Korvosa. Once they've passed, she asks the others to stand watch before slipping into a narrow alley and quickly changing out of her more identifiable clerical outfit. When she rejoins the others she appears to be a baby-faced warrior wannabe.
"Ready to put on a show of our own at the playhouse," she announces with a nervous grin.
Their work complete, the speaker mounts the box and coaxes the ox into motion. One of the brothers walks at the bridle while the last trails behind the slow moving wagon. It turns about in the market then starts down the hill toward the bridges. There's still rioting down there, though you don't doubt the Pharasman's Wain will be let through.
The shopkeepers on Garrison Hill were claiming riots in the streets of North Point today. Lawlessness seems to be spreading still, not contracting. Certainly since you left the curtain wall there's been no sign of the guard. These streets are guarding themselves, but some businesses are trying to stay open even in Old Dock. You pass a heavily armed but open feed store, and an even more heavily armed wagon-yard, mostly empty. Fishmongers are still calling the catch but these also are either accompanied by a tough, or look tough enough themselves to avoid being knocked over by rioters.
Packs of rioters wander the streets calling out their causes. Some of these carry signs calling for Ironsoot Solidarity, Fair Wages or some other trite enthusiasm. You see one guy carrying a bare pole. Many of them are too drunk to advocate for anything and are still drinking.
The square in front of the playhouse is much as you left it, though the raver's corpse has been removed. What energy left with the setting sun returned with the tide - some fool captain has put in at Old Dock and let his men ashore before knowing the state of things. Packs of his sailors, deep in their cups and propped up by their sea wives roam the lanes between the playhouse and the Sticky Mermaid three blocks away.
The crier is still at it - a different boy, but the same message. The gate is open and very few people have paid to enter so far. But there's still a quarter hour before the playhouse doors are supposed to open.
"Wonder what his problem is?" mutters Emi when she notices the Pharasman staring at them.
Hal answers your knock and once you've convinced him of your identity he lifts the bar and lets you in. Kevlin and the smallest boy, Peri have each armed themselves with clubs from the kitchen (Garlan would apparently not allow them knives). They lurk behind the door as you come in.
The chapel smells like Carawyn's soup, which is a thankful thing as Amistan still lies in his death shroud behind the altar. Garlan is trying to re-sequence some of the vandalized books from their hall of records when you come in. He smiles at you all thankfully. Everything seems secure and you're able to change as necessary.
Tassira had been oddly silent as the party went about selling off trinkets and making preparations for tonight's rescue mission. Even Kayleigh's jibe about the crown looking good on Ravnos' head failed to do much more than elicit a brief chuckle from her. Such a state of affairs was normal for her--when confronted with a problem (ranging from a nearly-completed essay on the proper ways of maintaining an illusion spell to, as it stands, a mission to rescue an innocent priest from a lynching posing as wholesome entertainment), she tended to focus exclusively on solving it.
She didn't feel as ready as she hoped. Part of that had to do with her selection of spells, but that was only a trifling concern. After all, she'd long since developed a technique to change them on a whim. It was yet another advancement the Acadamae could never hope to replicate--more due to their own close-minded prejudices than any lack of intellect on their part.
"Does anyone have any recommendations for spells to use? I have my colour-spraying incantation that I used back at the fishery, I have a spell that allows me to befriend a person more easily, even one that conjures up a patch of grease..."
When you pay your fee of 4 coppers per head you're admitted into the yard outside the playhouse. The muscle taking money at the gate give you a glance as you pass, several glances in the case of the big man with the crutch, but they don't challenge your entry. They drop your coins into their cashbox and wave you past. As showtime grows closer, the crowd begins to thicken. The show will be well attended. After a short wait the doors into the hall are opened and people are welcomed into the theater itself.
You enter the hall at the front of the crowd, practically thrust through the doors by the press from behind. The doorway opens directly onto the cockpit, a floor for commons to jostle with one another for the most advantageous view. Directly across the cockpit is an identical door, just opened to let in the crowd gathered on the other side of the building. The stage is raised about three-and-a-half feet above the pit floor. Along the hemispherical south side of the building are galleries that you can gain access to for the mere price of an additional four coppers - paid to the thick-neck who bodily blocks the steps up. The lowest seats of the gallery are three or four feet above the floor so that someone seated on the bench can see the stage over the heads of the pit dwellers. The roof of the hall slopes up from about 12' over the heads of the galleries to 30' or more over the stage itself.
Behind the stage the facade is two stories high, with three doors from stage to backstage. Overlooking the stage from the rear are balconies, each with a door that also leads to backstage on the second floor. A large stone column ascends from either side of the stage to support the roof high above the crowd. Braziers are suspended from pullies high up the columns, allowing someone to raise them or lower them according to the needs of the scene. They're presently lowered down quite far casting an uneven light that leaves deep pools of shadow in the corners and along the ceiling of the hall. As the crowd fills out the floor and to a lesser extent the galleries the low strains of an ominous basso continuo drift down from practically unseen music-stands to either side of the shadowy balconies. What was once a boisterous crowd outside the hall quiets to a low murmur as the last coins are collected at the door.
Kayleigh immediately moves toward the least guarded on the doors leading backstage. She tries to look somewhat lost.
Nebbin wanders into the area looking around, letting himself be jostled by the crowd as he tries to remember to lean on his "crutch." He follows Emileva toward the front right of the pit, trying to use his bulk to shield Kayleigh and Tassira from the crowd.
Neziana, keeping her hood up around her furred head, enters, keeping herself from checking the secreted smokestick on her person.
"I'll drop the second when it's time," she whispers to Emileva, willing for the moment to let the larger woman take charge.
At least one other person here seems to know what she's doing. Tassira's cute, but the other two -- there may not be much use for them. The boy's more naive than a maiden out for her first stroll with a boy, she thinks.
Once everyone has made their way to the right side of the stage, Emi gathers them for one last run through of the plan. Keeping her voice low, but making it look like they are having a casual conversation in which she is telling a story, she goes over the major points.
"The smokesticks will give us smoke but no flame, so they should be placed where it will look like the smoke is seeping in from backstage to be most believable. I light the one for the corner first. The rest of you block me from being seen while I do it. We need to give a few seconds for the smoke to build before yelling anything. Ideally we won't need to. Someone in the crowd will see it, yell "fire!" and the crowd will do the work for us. If that doesn't happen, everyone else will run out to the front corner of the stage and start yelling "Fire" while Neziana drops the second stick from behind the cover we're giving her."
"Once the crowd is convinced, and milling about, hopefully running for the doors, we step back into the smoke, using it as cover to get up on stage and through the closest door to backstage. After that, we improvise. If we come across theater people, act like panicked audience members looking for an escape first. If that doesn't work, I guess we take them down as quickly and quietly as possible. When we have the priest, we make a dash for the nearest door."
"If the crowd doesn't take the bait, we're probably screwed. But there is a Plan B. Tassira, if you can, charm a member of the crowd into panicking and trying to get everyone to evacuate. Then we do the same as we would otherwise, use the smoke to get us on stage to the door. If all else fails, use your killer rainbow Tassira. Knock down as many people in the crowd around us as you can. Then the same again, get into the smoke, get onstage, and get through the door."
"Any questions, thoughts, concerns, or prayers, or are we ready to go?"
Emi seems rather pumped up. With her nerves on edge and so much that could go wrong with what's about to come, her adrenaline is already flowing freely.
Tassira flicks through her spellbook while huddled with the others. With a gesture and a flash of blue in her eyes, she replaces her protective spell with a charm spell.
"...got it." The mageling nods. "If smoke doesn't get them to panic first, charm them. And if all else fails, colour spray."
Emileva takes one last look around the pit and galleries to see if she can spot any inside security people.
Nebbin nods nervously, hoping he can remember what to do when he's supposed to.
"Are we doing it right now? Not waiting for the play to start?"
Neziana nods.
"Give me a couple minutes to move over to where we want to drop the second stick. I'll drop it when I hear someone yell something, and if no one else does, I'll call out. I'll follow you in after that."
As you have your subtle conversation the crowd fills in around you. It takes a mix of apologies, lithe agility and outright rudeness for Neziana to make her way across the crowded pit. As she's still struggling to reach her spot the show begins.
The background for the opening scene of the play looks like the inside of a chapel to Aroden - very like the one you've just come from. The two outermost stage doors are painted like chapel walls with stained glass windows to remove them from the scene. The center door remains a door and it's through this that a man strides onto the stage dressed as a king with two armed city guards in tow. The king wears a fine white shirt and crimson vest with red breeches to the knees, white stockings and buckled shoes that flare as he walks. His crown is perched upon a mop of curly black hair and heavy eyebrows and mustache frame his long bulbous nose. As he walks up to the front of the stage he twirls his close-cut beard to a point, wide grin splitting his face. His two guardsmen look authentic enough, longsword at the hip, boiled leather armor, shield bearing the city's seal.
Through the actor's paint you know the true identity of the king as do most of the people in the place. It's Pilts Swastel, owner and operator of the playhouse. He sketches an artful bow as his two guardsmen stamp themselves into position on his flanks. Most of the crowd erupts in laughter at him and he smiles all the more, sharing their mood. Some just shake their heads - unsure of their own reactions. Some in the crowd are already stewing at the outrage of mocking the king so recently passed, others are upset at the appearance of the guardsmen, staged or otherwise.
"Good Evening, ladies and fellows! Patrons of the Arts! Esteemed Citizens! And welcome to our humble mummers show." He speaks with flair, throwing his voice out into the space over the pit. "Exemplaries aims only for your pleasure," his smile is as oily as a smile can get. "You asked for lies... And Here I Stand! Your liege." He draws the last word out with a snarl.
Other players are subtly coming onto stage behind him, taking their places for the show, but the speaker is ostentatious - he commands your attention.
"As you can see, I've brought along my guard. Here for your security, at fantastic expense to myself I may add. We spare no expense here. You know this!" He admonishes the front row with a bauble-encrusted index finger. He has suprisingly small hands.
"To make sure you're safe while under my roof I've contracted some good members of our own city guard." He waves down the boos. "You know, they only want to protect you and I from vandalism - to ensure the safety of our streets! But the current state of our government saps their morale and in our city's hour of need they have been poorly mismanaged. This new queen of ours is the most vain and corrupt royal to ever sit the Crimson Throne!"
Pilts gets a hearty shout of approval from the crowd at this proclamation.
"If she is a queen, then I am an emperor. The Emperor of Old Korvosa!" He toasts himself, and most of the crowd echoes his toast. They're laughing now, as is the 'Emperor'.
"Indulge us," he begins again, "for a short while, as we share with you all this tale of lust, shame, betrayal... and revenge!"
He pauses here, lets his words settle over the crowd. He savors the silence his voice leaves in its wake.
"I, your Emperor, along with my troupe of Exemplary Execrables present for your review, 'The Peddler of Lies'!"
As he finishes his little speech and retreats, Neziana reaches her destination.
Nebbin looks nervously at Emileva as he realizes there are real guards there.
I thought it was just going to be actors!
Kayleigh's normally soft countenance hardens the more the self-proclaimed Emperor of Old Korvosa speaks. She remembers the creepy bard from Exemplary Execrables who'd insisted he needed to touch every inch of her clothing to clean them with a prestidigitation spell a few weeks back. Crap rolls downhill she notes silently, the frown on her face morphing into a clenched-teeth snarl. The mild-mannered cleric seems dangerously close to going off-script and doing something foolish.
When the show begins Emileva's confidence sinks. Her plan was built around an empty stage where they would be able to move quickly and freely. That was now not a possibility.
She cringes as she sees Pilts Swastel and the two guards with him enter.
If there's resistance on the stage, we can't count on going any farther. It will have to be there where it happens. We will just have to wait until they bring the priest out.
She leans in to the others.
"Much harder to get back stage now the show's starting. We will have wait for them to bring the priest out. Since everything will be happening on the stage, we could use more confusion to keep people distracted. Tassira, maybe you could use the charm to start a fight among the sailors before we light the smokesticks? Tell the charmed one another sailor has been stealing from him, or pit the sailors against the crowd somehow. Maybe by shouting 'Long Live Queen Ileosa!' over and over?"
The Emperor and his guards retreat from the stage by the center door. The scene opens with Lariam, priest of Aroden preaching to his faithful. The actor is tall and bald, with a hooked nose and a handsome face. It's plainly not the priest Crayden, but rather a fairly talented actor who calls out his sermon to a chapel full of townsfolk in rhyming doubles. Three times he breaks his own flow to switch to a soliloquy that he sings in a passable tenor. In his songs he lays out for the audience all the rotten motives of his inner heart. The reasons he's decided to prey on the Canabrates, a small family among his flock. He confesses his lust for both the matron and the daughter of the family. He plots the downfall of the patriarch, to use his wife and his pride against him to lay him low.
It's standard bad guy rationale stuff, but it's delivered well and the audience obviously enjoys it. The scene closes with the end of his sermon and the dismissal of the flock.
--
Music sweeps down from above, chasing away the echoes of the scene's last lines. While the darkened backdrop is changed by workmen, the front stage is well-lit for a pair of dancers. The first is a lithe young woman dressed and veiled in a transparent wisp of a dress. She glides gracefully across the stage, flinging herself through the air and landing in time with the music. And attracting the attention of the scene's second dancer, a large man in flowing black robes and a devil mask. The second dancer pursues the first, their choreography timed roughly to the swelling of the score. As he spins about and gradually narrows the chase his arousal becomes obscenely obvious. The crowd begins to react to the stagecraft with hoots and cat-calls.
Just as it seems that she must be caught, another female dancer intercedes and the girl slips away. The dark robed dancer chases the new woman briefly but their dancing is unlovely - she is perhaps, not much of a dancer - and she's soon caught by the devil and ravished. As the music shrieks to its climax the dancers appear to take this scene about two steps past where you assume they're going to take it. The lights are killed and the stage grows dark for the next scene.
The crowd gives a hearty shout and long applause as the music ends. The lights remain low as people move about changing the scenery in the dim backstage. The crowd is very loud after this last scene. Everyone sharing what they thought they saw. Some portion of the crowd may have been offended, but its hard to tell in the din.
Two young men behind Nebbin have a conversation about their funds and if they still have enough to visit the House of Clouds tonight after the show.
Two guys break out in a shoving match directly behind Tassira, causing bouncers to wade into the crowd. Both hunters and the hunted are aware of one another and two separate pursuits through the crowd begin. The pit crowd laughs at the game, shoving the men around as they try to flee from the bouncers. The two men are caught and shown the door just as the next scene begins.
Anger and a growing desperation are reflected in Kayleigh's eyes when Emileva whispers her new tactical suggestions to the group. She grits her teeth in frustration but nods her head in assent to the new plans. She turns to watch the next act of the vile play with a morbid fascination.
Tassira nods at Emileva. "Can do."
She tries to not pay too much attention to the depravity on stage--a task that's made decidedly easier by the two men picking a fight with each other. Hmm... is this what Emileva was referring to? Might as well capitalize on it.
She tries to discreetly cast a charm person spell on the sailor sitting behind her...
"...excuse me? Sir?" She taps the rough-looking man on the shoulder. "I think I saw the man next to you stick his hand in your pockets..."
Nebbin flushes in embarrassment as the first girl dances, cheeks turning bright red. As the devil catches the second girl, he gasps and averts his eyes. He glances first at Kayleigh -- and then mortified -- starts staring at the ground.
He shrugs as he hears the men behind him.
I wonder what the House of Clouds is. Sounds like some place nice. They probably want to not have to think about this, and I bet it's got nice music or something. Maybe I should suggest to the others we go there after this?
He continues to try to resolutely look at nothing of what's going on around him.
Although distracted, Kayleigh catches Nebbin's reaction to the play and its risqué bits. She wonders why she herself isn't having a similar reaction and realizes that--at the moment at least--anger at the play, its actors, and the (mostly) approving audience is the emotion controlling her. She finds herself doing a sympathy blush with Nebbin before chastising herself for being such a prissy prude and reminding herself that rescuing Crayden is where her mind should be. She fidgets some more, unconsciously patting her concealed dagger, ready to storm the stage once she spies her abducted friend.
Tassira's target freezes for just moment, then shoves his hands into his pockets and spins around to give his neighbors the stink-eye. The two guys to either side are his mates. They look at one another in confusion.
"Whazzat mate? Been filchin my pay right outta my pocket? Ye'll give back what ya took or I'll take it back with interest!"
The accused man laughs and holds his hands up. "Ye're drunk! Shut up and watch the show! They're getting ready to start again. Maybe another one of them pretty actresses'll get shagged."
"You better cough up my dough mate, or you're not gonna see the next act of this or any show!" He grabs his target by the front of the shirt as he yells at him. Some of his immediate neighbors shy away from the confrontation as the two drunks lock up with one another.
The bouncers, fresh from throwing out the spontaneous miscreants, start making their way back into the crowd to deal with the induced ones.
On stage, the scene is set for the next act, a well-lit city street. All three stage doors are made out to look like doors into buildings. There are actors on the balconies and several on stage. Lariam is not among them, nor is anyone looking like Crayden.
The first strains of the scene's music are playing as the fight breaks out.
Emileva pays little attention to what is happening with the play onstage, only enough to watch for the priest to be brought out. Instead she watches the audience and bouncers, trying to figure out how they will react when the group enacts their rather convoluted scheme.
When she notices Tassira escalate the scuffle near her she curses to herself. The priest isn't onstage yet. But we can't wait any longer now. Please be with us tonight Lythertida! And please please let the priest really be here!
Emi taps the others to let them know it's starting, then she kneels down behind them into the corner and lights the smokestick. She stands up and turns around toward the crowd, leaving the smokestick in the corner behind her.
While waiting for the smoke to begin billowing out, she ruminates on her fears they will not be able to quickly find the priest, or when they do they will face a lock without a handy key.
Nebbin waits, trying to remember the smoke is just something they're doing, and not a real fire.
Rather than potentially making a spectacular fail by trying to leap up onto the stage (thus attracting attention when the group's aiming for the opposite), Kayleigh utters a worried "Oh my!" and attempts to climb/roll onto the stage once the smoke starts billowing.
The first bouncer to get to the tussle grabs the innocent man around the throat from behind with one brawny arm. He tries to yank the two men apart, but sailors can cling to yards and one another like spider monkeys and he only succeeds in pulling the two of them towards him, and only briefly. The second bouncer arrives just as Emi's smokestick is starting to stink. He grabs the sleeve of the charmed man and tries to arrest their momentum toward the stage.
The first real plumes of smoke swirl around Emi and Kayleigh's feet as the charmed sailor decks the second bouncer. A man to Emi's left cries out the alarm.
"Fire! The theater's on Fire!" Cries of alarm go up across the dark hall. The main light in the place is still coming from the blazing braziers at the stage, and one of these is cloaked by the thick cloud. The effect on the crowd is dramatic. There's an immediate surge for the doors.
Kayleigh succeeds in rolling onto the stage.