Handing his sword back to him, Nel gives Pluck a thankful nod. "Thanks for the help. I'll be right back." Taking off her heavy steel shield, she places it in the ground near where she dropped her longsword, before wadding off to recapture her horse. "Braltar! Come back here you crazy horse!" A faint squishing noise can be heard as the half-elf wades into the marsh followed by the trail of curses and calls for the steed.
Pluck waves Nel away when she tries to return the sword, "Brought it for your darling. You'll make better use of it than I ever will." He makes his way down to the others while Nel is retrieving her horse. He walks up to the wererat. "Too bad about your friends, but I guess that's what initiation rites are all about. Not everyone survives. Still, I think there is an opportunity here for you and us. You see, it might be beneficial for us to have Saul and Ziphras think you succeeded. And, it might be beneficial for you to stay alive because you're dead if you rat us out. Understood?" He pauses, waiting for some sign of understanding from the wererat before continuing, "You go back to Ziphras. Tell him you set the ambush, but the people you were sent to kill were tougher than you thought. It was a bloody fight and tragically both of your friends were killed, but fortunately, a swarm of flesh-eating cockroaches intervened to finish them off. You left them to die screaming. Nothing about me or the elf. Got it?"
Walking up to the group, the Tien man continuous his hostility, his blades at the ready as he holds the katana up to Pluck, Tamiro narrows his eyes, "You disappear as attacks on the Golden Goblin increase, and now you say the Boss is behind this as the rat says hes never seen Saul. What excuse do you have that could possibly make this believable? How do I not know you are with Zincher, trying to get us to betray the Boss?"
Looking around to the others, and glaring, "You believe a ghost so quickly? You do not trust the boss, but abject betrayal is another thing entirely, and I will not stand for baseless accusations! There is no proof here besides a ghost," he says motioning to Pluck,"and a trap that any crime lord could lay given the meeting being completely known."
Looking to Pluck, he keeps his blade leveled, "Explain yourself, or I will not give you another chance to hide."
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"Well Tamiro, give me a night's rest and I can ask Cayden to provide us a way where we may have a good chance of detecting who is telling the truth or not. No guarantees mind you, but a good chance. I for one am suspicious of just about everyone in Riddleport, Saul included." Mazra will then look Tamiro in the eyes, "But you I can trust."
Shocked by Tamiro's hostile reaction, Vark quickly urges Allegro up to his side, laying a small hand on his... leg? Whichever part of him he could reach. "Please Tamiro, put down your blade!" Then he looks to Pluck, "While I have my doubts about Saul's intentions," gesturing to the remaining wererat, "he claims to not know who Saul is. So, what proof do you have that Saul is connected this Zephras' attempt on our lives? And who is your friend?" He finishes, gesturing to the dark-skinned elf.
Addressing Kwava, "My apologies, I am Varknarnost Kettlewidget, but you may call me Vark. Nice to meet you." He says with a small bow from the saddle, "Let me be the first to thank you for your help in getting us out of this predicament. But, forgive my forwardness, I must ask what your hand is in all of this?"
Pluck puts a warning hand on Kwava's chest and glares at Tamiro and Vark, "Seriously? Its a miracle you all have lived this long. Cayden must truly smile on Mazra because Riddleport usually makes quick work of such fools." He casts a menace-laden look over the wererat, then back to Tamiro, Mazra and Vark, "This is the conversation you want to have in front of a gangsta rat that nearly killed you. The one who was going to buy us some time to rest and plan." His expression shifts to mock pity as he looks back to the wererat. "Sorry pal. I thought we might have a deal to keep you alive. Should have gotten while the getting was good. Now we're going to have to kill you. On to plan B. Bind him up Tamiro. Then we can talk."
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The rat startles and says, "No, no, no need for that. I'll do anything to stay alive - I've got two sons and a wife that's waiting for me. I don't even want to be with Ziphras that much. Been having second thoughts ever since I took on this job. If you want, I, uh, can be your spy or something into Ziphras' forces. Could always use some more allies in Riddleport, eh? Maybe I'll get you in with the Boss Rat himself?"
Kwava smiles and says, I am delinquent in my introduction. I am Kwava and I have need to speak with all of you in better detail. I fear your employer is working closely with an ancient evil." He shrugs and tilts his head toward the wererat. "Later, of course."
He walks over to Tamiro and places a hand on the samurai's shoulder.
"Tamiro, I understand why you would be suspicious. There is reason for everything, including Pluck's disappearance. I can explain once we've dealt with the matter at hand."
"I must say, though, I know little of human society. Whether this ratperson is to be trusted is beyond my knowledge. I shall leave that to your expertise."
Vark blushes immediately as he realizes he had completely forgot the presence of the wererat pleading for his life, "Ahem, yes, well. What do we do about that?" Vark squints in the direction that Nef ran to chase down Gibraltar, turning an even deeper shade of crimson when he remembers that that was his fault as well.
Frustrated at this mess of things, he sighs inwardly, hoping she would return soon to lend her thoughts to the matter at hand, and remove some of the spotlight from himself.
Slowly approaching the group with Gabraltar, Nel is covered up to her waist in mud and swamp slime, with the Shoanti steed covered up to his knee. As she takes in everyone's tense expression, Nel mentally sighs. "We can do introductions and reminiscing later. We need to get to somewhere safe quickly. It should be obvious that we were set up; whether by Vancaskerkin or Zincher and Croat, it matters little. Do you two have a safehouse, or should I contact Sam?"
Observing the sniveling wererat to Tamiro's sword pointed at Pluck's throat, Nel groans. "Tamiro, anata no burēdo o sageru. Sore ga okurete iru, watashitachiha watashitachi no karada o sagashite kuru korera no asashin o yatotta daredemo mae ni hinansho o mitsukeru hitsuyō ga arimasu." Offering an open palm towards the other warrior, Nel attempts to gently break tension without the loss of another life.
"Just let the man go. As long as he tells no one that we remain alive, it can give us some time to breathe." Leading her horse back down the path, she pauses as Kwava introduces himself. Bowing respectfully, Nel struggles to speak in Kwava's native tongue. "Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn, Kwava. Le fael. Ánin apsenë mellon." Wincing at the formal sounding elvish, Nel waits to hear what Kwava and Pluck have to say before taking lead.
"I have a camp set up outside of the swamp. It is well hidden and can provide you shelter as you recover and make plans." He looks at Tamiro and notes his wounds. Kwava begins to rummage through a cloth bag, pulling out four small vials.
"Please, I have been remiss. Many of you are injured. We have some time to recover. I have healing potions. First, though, we should determine what this ratperson knows. It would be foolish to let him go before learn if we do indeed share a common enemy in Saul."
Pluck narrows his eyes as the wererat responds. "We don't need a spy and you'd wind up dead. Keep it simple. Roaches. Screaming. Dead. Its close enough to the truth that he probably won't question you and since its always possible we escaped them, you'll probably survive even once Ziphras finds out we're still alive. Look, the elf here and I already know Ziphras is working with Saul. You sure you didn't her anything?"
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"Look, I've got my notes from the boss - they're in my front right pocket. That's all I know about this job. I'll translate if you need, of course." He gives a nervous smile, an awkward curling of lips around rat teeth. He raises his eyes skyward. "Please, Desna, don't let them kill me."
The note reads: My trusty trout Old Stumpy’s sending provender up Boneyard. They’ll be dunny lie at tomorrow’s darkman. Give them all the crash. Don’t try to grab any for your birds. Keep the dummees. The rest of the iron on earnest of the hush and ye’ll hie the ken.
Vark clucks Allegro forward and hops down off the gray. Tentatively, he slides his small hand into the wererat's pocket and retrieves the note. Springing back a few steps he unfolds it, his brow furrowing as he tries to make out the text, "My street slang is a bit rusty, but I believe "Old Stumpy" is our good friend, Saul? I'm not sure we need much more proof than that." He holds the unfolded note aloft for all to see.
Turning to the trembling shapeshifter, Vark uses his best stage voice to sound confident and intimidating, "Go on, get out of here before my friends dice you up and feed you to the swamp things."
"Mines not so rusty, but I suspect you're right on that count Vark. Let me have a look."
The man lowers his blade somewhat, eyeing Pluck, "I am no fool. I survived this long because I trust no one. I especially do not trust those appearing from no where after vanishing into nothing."
Listening to what the note says, Tamiro lowers his blade even more with a quizzical look.
"It makes no sense for the boss to want us dead. He is constantly under attack. Only a fool of a man would ask the only competent guards to die. If nothing else he would have ordered us to die in combat with Zincher and his men. At least int hat way our deaths would have use. This makes little sense."
"A good habit Tamiro. Let's finish with Desna's rat here and then we can catch up on old times...and not such old times."
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My ally Saul Vancaskerkin is sending a group of victims to the Boneyard. They’ll be at the old rendezvous tomorrow night. Kill them all—we don’t want to induct them to our gang. Feel free to keep whatever valuables they have in their purses. When I see proof that they are all dead, you’ll be paid and I’ll consider you part of the family.
Kwava nods with a sharp movement, "Very well. Tamiro, Pluck, please take care of this rat. I am sure that your decision will be a prudent one. Then we can retire for the rest of the evening.
Pluck waves off the rat, "No need. I grew up on the streets here too." He translates for the rest, "My ally Saul Vancaskerkin is sending a group of victims to the Boneyard. They’ll be at the old rendezvous tomorrow night. Kill them all—we don’t want to induct them to our gang. Feel free to keep whatever valuables they have in their purses. When I see proof that they are all dead, you’ll be paid and I’ll consider you part of the family." After Kwava speaks his piece, he adds "Look, its in his best interest to lie for us. He can go back and tell them he failed and Ziphras is likely to kill him. Or he can lie and tell them the roaches got us after we finished his pals. Sure, we'll turn up alive eventually, but Ziphras's punishment for not making sure a bunch of victims being swarmed by roaches are really dead is going to be a lot less than the punishment for getting captured and spilling the goods on the arrangement with Saul. You can tell a convincing lie to Ziphras can't you?"
Watching Tamiro carefully, Nel nods at what Pluck suggests. "Luckily for us, Saul is a fool. If you two do not have a permanent base for all of us, I would suggest that we go to the Cyphermages. I can turn in a few favors to have them house us for at least tonight." Subconsciously petting Gabraltar's neck, Nel keeps a sharp eye out for any other foes that could be approaching.
"My camp is permanent and has a good cache of supplies. No need to risk being seen in town just yet," Kwava says with a sigh.
Looking to their newfound elf ally, "Then I say we make way to your camp. Let the shape-changer go, I suspect he'll lie like a good little rat." Vark says with an odd gleam in his eyes and a meager attempt at a cold, heartless smile on his lips. Because he is, no doubt, utterly terrified of me, he he he! Seeing Nel petting Gabraltar's neck, he leans down to do the same, all the while maintaining eye contact with the wererat. Yes, quite terrified of me, indeed.
Kwava nods and with a swift slash of his dagger, cuts the wererat's bonds. The wererat rubs his wrists and smiles weakly before scampering off into the darkness.
The journey to Kwava's camp doesn't cover much distance, but he pauses several times and presses his ear to ground before proceeding. The camp itself is a rather spare affair. After setting a fire and setting out bedrolls for everyone, Kwava speaks a few words, setting an alarm spell.
"We can speak in peace, now," he says with a weary expression. "It is late, but we must speak of a few things before we can lay to rest. At this point, it's clear that we share a common enemy - Saul Vancaskerkin."
"I am a member of the Shin’Rakorath, or the Lantern Bearers in the common tongue of this region. My company seeks to protect Golarion from a great evil, and I fear as though your boss may be allied with one of the creatures that we hunt. I have been sneaking into Riddleport after dark for months now, trying to collect more information. I've seen you in the gambling hall, going about your daily business. I've seen Saul send armed men to follow the samurai to the house he goes to every night. I've seen him send men to sneak poison into the horses' feed. I've seen him murder his own men and send you to kill the man he framed instead."
"During such an investigation, I noticed that this wizard," he says with a gesture at Pluck, "was similarly investigating the gambling hall. I have watched you go about your business, as well as keeping an eye on Saul. Earlier, I saw Saul meet with Ziphras. I followed Ziphras, then his underlings, to here in order to protect you."
His face grows darker in the fire's light and Kwava continues, "I fear these events will mean that my quarry will attempt to escape as they realize that I am pursuing them. Please, I know that you have little reason to trust me, but I must still ask it of you. As you go to take out Saul for your revenge, let me know if you spy any renegade elves."
Questions surged through Vark's mind like a tidal wave, so he blurted out the first two that came to him, "What is this creature that Saul is allied with? And how does Zincher fit into all this? Surely, he must play a part, or was he just another one of Saul's scapegoats?"
Memory flooded back to him, "And Zincher sent men to kidnap me! They claimed to be taking orders from someone called Boss Croat. Do you have any idea why? All of these names and intrigues are starting to make my head spin." Vark said with a somewhat defeated look.
Sheathing his blades, Tamiro crosses his arms, thinking, and looking between Pluck and the elf Kwava. He is obviously torn between duty to his boss, and his own senses, "This makes very little sense. Why would he risk himself against Zincher so? Especially right after an attack?"
"Ni usagi wo ou mono wa ichi usagi wo mo ezu. Kare wa, anzen-sei, tomi o ou. Kore wa, kare wa korosa rete shimaimasu." the tien man mutters.
Looking to Kwava he says, "You say he followed me to my home multiple times? I have little reason to think he would bother killing my mother, but I should head there and check as soon as I can."
Clicking his tongue, to become Kino over to his side, he quickly mounts, and wheeling his mount around, says, "It appears our contract is terminated. I must check to the safety of my mother and then remove a traitors head from his shoulders. Follow if you wish."
Following his terse statement of fact, he quickly digs his heels into Kino's sides, and trots off at speed back for Riddleport.
Listening to Kwava's findings, Nel begins to seethe as he mentions Saul's attempts to poison the horses. "If you don't mind me asking, what exactly is it that the Shin’Rakorath hunt? If Saul is indeed allied with your enemy, I'd like to know what I'm getting into. Vancaskerkin is a fool and we can deal with him, but I'd like to know all the facts before barging in on an unknown, potentially powerful, ally."
Watching as Tamiro remounts his horse, Nel bows her head, wishing that she could follow the other warrior. "Ganbatte ne, Deru kui wa utareru." Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Nel slumps, clearly exhausted at everything that has been going on.
"Define renegade. Riddleport isn't exactly known for law-abiding citizens."
Kwava looks the party over and sighs, "What I'm going to tell you may sound outlandish at first, and then cause you to panic. So, please, be patient."
"I fear the renegade elf I seek is a drow."
Pluck does his best to maintain his composure, "Aren't you the sly one Kwava? Hadn't shared that tidbit yet. Here I thought we were just chasing a run of the mill criminal mastermind. Do tell. I've heard stories, but I thought the drow were elven boogeymen."
Kwava nods curtly and says, "I saw no need to incite panic until I was completely sure. Please understand I reveal the nature of my quarry only in strict confidence."
Vark bursts into a fit of laughter, doubling over and clutching his rotund belly, "Drow? I didn't realize you were an entertainer as well, Kwava. Do you frequent any taverns in Riddleport? I'd love to hear you play. Come now, my elven friend, you can't expect us to believe some dark elves have sprang to life out of some tavern song. Surely, you're joking?"
Holding in a snort at Kwava's admission of his quarry, Nel listens patiently. "Right, so what do we know about them? Are they gifted in the ways of magic, or do they prefer a sword?" As she speaks, she prepares her horse for the night, trying to make him as comfortable as possible.
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Kwava purses his lips and shakes his head at Mazra's query. "I am not aware of the nature of this Blot, but I have lived too long to believe in coincidence. Several rare occurrences must be linked in some way."
"Vark, I understand that it may be difficult to accept such a claim, but I fear that you shall find proof before your business with Saul is done. Nel, These creatures are deadly in all possible ways; they have both powerful magic in their blood and are skilled martial opponents. They have vast riches of written knowledge that none of those on the surface have ever seen. I would not take them lightly. However, I fear that you will get to my quarry only after you fight your way through the Gold Goblin."
A cold sweat bathes Vark's body as he realizes this isn't some cruel joke, "Drow in Riddleport? What could they want? Mazra, you mentioned the Blot, surely these two things are related?" Vark puts on his negotiating voice as he speaks to Kwava in very sincere tones, "Kwava, when the time comes to assault the Goblin and force Saul to answer for his crimes, will you help us in our cause? Surely, you can see that the reasons we fight are one in the same."
Looking down at himself in his finery, he hastily adds, "Besides, manacles would surely clash with my outfit. No, that wouldn't do at all." As he rubs an invisible piece of swamp muck from his sleeve.
"Look, I'm skeptical about the dark elves too. I've seen tales in the archives, sure. But I always assumed that is all they were. But, I've been working with Kwava for some time and he's been honest about everything else. And I know we can't trust Saul. So based on what you all have learned about the Goblin, do you have thoughts on the best way to get in? What should we do to prepare?"
Kwava shakes his head and says, "I should not have mentioned it. This is a distraction, surely, from your task. We should rest for the evening, first, before distracting plans."
The next morning, after breakfast and preparations, Kwava unrolls some blank parchment and says, "The Gold Goblin is a somewhat tricky nut to crack. As I'm sure you've seen, it can stand up to a seige remarkably well. If Saul hears, or even suspects, that the plan didn't go down like he expected it to, he'll be bolstering security. In this case, planning will make all the difference."
"I hope to return to the Lantern Bearers sometime this evening and update them on the new developments. You can use my camp as long as you wish. If you truly believe you need the additional power, I can stay, but I would prefer to report in. You surely must understand."
Nel, who up until this point was listening disinterested, perks up at the mention of an ancient library. "Is that so? Well we shall deal with Saul and then deal with your drow. With any luck Tamiro and Vara will meet up with us."
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Nel attempts to answers Pluck's question. "There are only two doors into the Goblin, Through the main doors, and the kitchen. The kitchen can give us fast access to the top floor, but the front door gives us quick access to vault, where Saul spends most his time. Inside, there are two known allies to Saul, in addition to Kwava's prey. There is Bojask, who is nothing more than a drunken brute, and Old Scratch, that blasted imp. Scratch spends most of his days hiding in the catwalk these days, but his birds eye view of the gambling hall floor, all but guarantees that Saul will know if we come in the front way. Does that help?"
Pluck nods, "Can we get to the vault without going through the gambling hall? It seems like we probably need to deal with Old Scratch quickly either way if we want to keep up our surprise."
"Ah, yes, well I believe I will leave the talk of tactics up to those more knowledgeable of such things. You can count on my songs bolstering us all, from well behind the front lines, of course. And I believe a well-placed grease spell - possibly at a choke point, one of the doors perhaps? - would be just the thing to turn the tide in our favor. No matter the plan, I wish to see Saul brought to justice for his crimes." Vark says with a rare tone of seriousness and finality.
He looks up to Kwava, "I'm sure your duties are important, but won't you consider staying with us to increase our chances of success? In return we could pledge ourselves to your cause. I, for one, would be very interested to see legend made flesh in these dark elves you claim are harrowing the streets of Riddleport. What say you?"