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"Well, he's a sweet old man, but I think he's growing a little paranoid. Yes, the order of the Rack has been active of late but I don't think it warrants any rash measures..." begins to reply Mireille with an affable smile.
The rest of the half-elf's reply is lost to Esh Kethar, Waki and Aiden, as their attention shifts to the big bull mastiff who had been laying quietly by the fire all this time, not even bothering to raise its head at the Pathfinder's arrival. The dog raises its massive head and growls, ending with a huff of indignation.
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The door shakes as a mailed fist knocks violently. "In the name of her Imperial Magistrix, open up!" At that, some of the ruckus dies down, as Mireille looks to you with genuine concern. "My house. It's off the grid, and I'm certain they won't find me there. We can get there through here" she replies, motioning to a disguised wooden panel which she rushes up to. As she begins to slide it open you realize that this opening leads directly outside, to the side of the whorehouse.
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Aiden nods and quickly grabs an old cloak from a pile of discarded clothes. "Here, put this on, Mireille. Anything to hide your hair a bit." He ushers her through the secret door.
"Esh, don't try to fight them. Comply, but take a long as possible. Maybe demand to see some forms or something." He nods to the man and follows Mireille out the door.
Outside, he pushes her to the edge of the street to keep to the shadows. "Come on, where's your house?"
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"It's this way!" she whispers with a hint of fear in her voice as you slip outside and begin to sneak about. The streets have cleared, significantly since your passage.
As the woman who brought you in quickly closes the secret door, she rushes back to the front door. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry my lords, busy in the back as always, ha ha!"
The door open to a man whose elegance and strong masculine features are only matched by the ugliness of his frown. "We're in search of a seditious traitor, and an informant has told us she is here." The other guards stand behind him menacingly. "Step aside, whore-monger, so we may search this wretched place" he snarls as she begins to comply and step aside for the guards.
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Esh's grin widens. "Whore monger? You honor me, Lictor. I am only but a mere storyteller that wanders from town to town and from hole to mountain. Speaking of which, have heard the story about the fortress of the Nail? They have recently imprisoned a woman of influence, the Paracountess named Zarta Dralneen, but with false accusations. What a fun comedy to tell! Who would believe that Hellknights, paragon of law and order, tortured and keept prisoner a chelish noble lady against the Law itself!"
Esh bursts out laughing, without moving a toe. "MWAHAHAHAHA what a shame for the Order of the Nail. Wait for the whole Hellknight order, I'd say. What do you have to say about that?"
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The guards step on in but are quickly faced with Esh, who begins to tell a story of lies and deceit! While the head of this detachment is not impressed, his subordinates are. Meanwhile, in the background, Nectambo begins to make things very difficult for the Chels, locking up or jambing up doors.
Meanwhile, outside, two of the guards turn their heads towards another source of disorder; a completely drunk patron who has begun to pick a fight with a bouncer. They look to each other and proceed towards that disturbance.
It doesn't seem like either Waki or Aiden made nearly enough noise to even rouse some of the sleeping alley cats. As they peer around though, they do notice a crow, perched upon a nearby building that seems to be looking at the scene unfolding in the Fox's Den way too intently for it to be normal.
"This way" says Mireille, pulling you towards her home.
As Nectambo goes about, he does spot a small, shaggy looking stuffed animal, which could be charitably called a griffon if one was drunk, stupid or both. This badly stuffed being has a little placard pinned to it's chest reading "The real Sir Beaky".
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Proud about his impact on the moral of the troop, Esh continues talking, agitating his fingery hairs and taking a more imposing stance.
"Well, nothing to say to that, huh? I should have known, Hellknights aren't renown for their wits. But wait? How are you penetrating in a building without presenting a warrant? I AM A MAN OF LAW! And the brother-in-law of the house's tenant. On whose authority do you mean to trespass in here?"
As he feels his words don't hit home, he tries to bend his luck and add something to succeed.
Esh starts waving his hands. "Hey! Are you even paying attention? Do you wish for me to head to your officer's desk to file a complaint in 666 copies? I'm not afraid to do it! I have done it before!"
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waits in the corner across the room from "the real Sir Beaky", trying to keep himself out of the way - when one of the Hellknights barges past the stuffed beast of dubious pedigree, he surreptitiously 'feeds' the Skull of Azrael a small freshwater pearl beneath his coat, and suddenly and apropos of nothing, "Sir Beaky" topples onto the Hellknight!
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Nectanebo waits for one of the town guards to step on past the stuffed animal before finishing the words of power to his spell. The creature lurches forward, which both scares the guard into making the highest pitched squeal you have heard in you lifetime as the leader of the group begins to hum and haw, trying to regain his footing against someone as charismatic and socially agile as Esh.
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Nectanebo continues keeping out of the way, his sword hidden between his back and the wall. When one of the Hellknights slams one of the inner doors open, he gently tilts the Guidingstar's tip in the direction of the door, which abruptly and dramatically swings back shut in the Hellknight's face!
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Searching the premises becomes a task far more arduous than expected for the Corenthynian guards, with all manner of inanimate objects seemingly turning on them, ellkiciting covert smiles from both children, patrons and workers. Outside, the crow ruffles it's feathers in disgust and takes flight.
Meanwhile, Waki and Aiden manage to get Mireille to her hideout, a rough-looking house that seems to have been partitioned by way too many people for it to be comfortable living. "Alright. Hold on." She pulls out a pitted rusty key which which she opens one of the many doors and motions for you to come on in. "Thank you for helping me out. Perhaps it's time for me to take some time away from my beloved Corentyn" she adds sadly, closing the door behind her with the entire weight of her body. With a sigh she moves towards her bed, a sad, cobbled-up thing. "I don't have much, but good deeds shouldn't go unrewarded." She pulls out a small chest from underneath her bed. "Take this, and tell Zephiro I am well and will take precautions. You should tell him he should watch after himself; heavens know that he is a prime target for the Order of the Rack."
Back at the Fox's Den, the guards solemnly walk out one at a time, frowning and empty-handed. "Everything seems to be in order here" voices their commander sourly. "I am certain I won't have any cause to come here in the future, won't I?" he adds, more of a threat than anything else, before turning away and marching back towards the harbor, his men in tow.
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Mireille shakes her head. "I'm sure he'll tell you something along the lines of "if I flee I'll look guilty, they'll purge my beautiful museum, bla bla bla..." In any case, there is money in there for you. A little extra I had on hand. Do not worry, I'll be fine" she finishes with a wink.
Back at the Den, the children giggle, perhaps a little nervously, once the soldiers have completely exited the building, amused yet wary of the winking skull.
Looking through the windows at Corentyn's night sky Zephiro says "And she said she'd leave for a while? Good. Maybe next time we talk I can convince her to leave this city. The unadulterated past is a rare commodity nowadays, and I don't see things getting any better soon." He steps away from the window and marches towards another room, this one smaller, looking more cramped, perhaps in part due to the mounds of books, baubles and other objects that lay about, piled haphazardly. "Sorry about the mess, I often don't have the opportunity to clean and I cannot let the staff take care of this" he says distractedly, rooting through papers and books alike. "Aha, so here's the mother-lode." He turns around and hands you a piece of old parchment. "The Davian's last stand was always something of conjecture, but this corroborates the lore that their House died out there. It also gives an idea as to how they died." He shakes his head, frowning.
"Starvation. Gods preserve us all from such a fate." He sighs and goes back to foraging. "I have a few more books and records you might find interesting, including some correspondence with the then-governor of Sargava. Feel free to take it all. If the Queen gets it in her head that those records are next for the clarity pyres..." He shudders.
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Waki bows at the solemn story and accepting the notes and asks.
The Davians. Close by this city they lived? More of the family survived elsewhere perhaps hidden? Any signs of them or supporters since the edict proclaimed was? Any who may be us willing to help now?
Waki ponders any other information before asking more.
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Nectanebo folds his arms and gives Zephiro a funny look: Shrewd, but not without compassion.
"You know what you need? You need a friend. I daresay it must feel like you're the only one who cares sometimes...but that isn't true. Have you heard of the Scarab Sages? The preservation and reclamation of knowledge, no matter the odds or the opposition, just so happens to be exactly what we do, and we've been doing it for a very long time - sometimes, why, we can even wrest it from the grip of oblivion itself."
Nectanebo pulls out a small turquoise-and-electrum membership token, and proffers it to Zephiro....
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Zephiro snorts. "If there are any Davians left, they go by other names now and they are laying extremely low. But I think you are just thinking wishfully. All the Davians had come to gather at Emberhold. The Battle of Corenthyn was going to be critical for them, and they all knew that. So they were all there when the naval landing failed, and what was left of them was at Emberhold, when house Thrune arrived to lay siege. Anglemire is only a week on horseback away. Truth be told, I'm surprised they didn't raze the village to bury that story. Although, if any of the locals has been there for longer than a couple of decades I'll be doubly surprised. Forced re-localisation will sap away at the communal memory if you get my drift."
He sighs and adds: "So no, I wouldn't expect any help, beyond what you might expect you might get for a few pieces of copper." He looks to Nectanebo and smiles sadly. "Perhaps I do need some more friends."
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The Pathfinders take their leave of Zephiro, electing to turn in for the night at the Wicked Fork, a place where they know their fellow agent Cassian has taken a room. Despite the late hour the proprietor, a large man who introduces himself as Neld Havasavu, greets you and nearly talks you into an early grave as he provides you with a key to a common room with room for four, some leftover soup from tonight's supper and a rundown of the events spanning from this evening's slave revolt conclusion to sometime before Earthfall, or at least that's when you politely cut him off.
Morning comes, and with it a newfound calm. As you walk on down from your room, you can see Chelish patrols have resumed. The Hellknights are nowhere to be seen, but Cassian is. Sitting by the bar counter, he looks disheveled, as if he's had a really tough night. As you approach the counter for your breakfast, he downs another shot of some sort of hard liquor, possibly Grappa.
Turning in his seat to greet you, he raises another shotglass to you before downing it as well, and beckoning Havasavu for more, swaying slightly as he does.