Snake nods and moves that way. As he moves beyond the corner, he spots Kreun, turning an eye upon him.
"I would ordinarily joyfully rejoin such banter. But the trap you baited has well bruised my sense of humor. And this borrowed bow, less than my desired drawn weight, is still sixty or so pounds, I'd guess perhaps thrice your mass, sufficient to stagger, or roast-spit, or staple you to the floor. So forgive your loss of stature, we're hoping instead, to keep longer, your life."
Gristav approaches the posturing impostrix, hopeful of a lack of cause to loose, but dutifully remaining ready of regrettable duty. "Right hand atop your head. With the other, remove your shoes, and toss them to the corner. While you're at that, tell me of your duties in this place. Did you say that you were known to Marzo? Or is it only the reverse? What do you know, of Marzo?"
"It wasn't a trap," she protests. "I was just supposed to draw you into the kitchen so he could run out. Here, I can't stay on my knees with one hand atop my head and reach behind me to unbuckle my bootstraps, not without toppling over. Might as well as me to hop on one foot while balancing a book on my head and humming the Andoren national anthem."
"I would ordinarily joyfully rejoin such banter. But the trap you baited has well bruised my sense of humor. ... remove your shoes... While you're at that, tell me of your duties in this place. Did you say that you were known to Marzo? Or is it only the reverse? What do you know, of Marzo?""It wasn't a trap," she protests. "I was just supposed to draw you into the kitchen so he could run out. Here, I can't stay on my knees with one hand atop my head and reach behind me to unbuckle my bootstraps, not without toppling over. Might as well ask me to hop on one foot while balancing a book on my head and humming the Andoren national anthem."
"And yet, you're still nimble enough to dodge the questions. The trap you weren't a part of had a child watch a woman cut her own throat. I wonder which scar will last longest.", Gristav gauged grimly. "Know that I could feel justly doing, and justice done, with all your bruises fading before their scars. It's not lost to my sensibilities, you've no bruises. But then, I've still no answers. There's plenty of time."
"Now, if I need to make you less enough nimble to not dodge the questions, I'll be switching to the cudgel. Do you remember the questions, or will I have to repeat them?"
Snake and Phillip see Beltias step through the open door at the end of the hall. There is a loud thud, and then the door closes.
Hissing to Serpe at a low ebb "That could be Braddon, he went to the apex." Phillip drops his crossbow in the corner and rushes towards the door. His hand is furnished with a small blade as he does so, and once the end of the corridor is reached, he attempts to swing the door back open.
Drawing his dagger, Phillip dashes down the hallway, but his attempt to open the door meets with resistance from the other side....
Snake moves past Phillip, attempts to help in opening the door.
As he grabs the handle, he nearly rips the door off its hinges. "I told you there was nowhere to run, Kreun."
Snake pushes past the halfling, grasping the door handle and forcing it open with sheer muscle where Phillip's subtler approach had failed. Revealed is the bell-pull room beneath what must be the cupola on the roof. A rope dangles down in the center of the room from darkness above, and a rough ladder is built into the unfinished walls on the western side of the room. Beltias Kreun is just inside the door, and an unarmed Braddon is on the opposite side of him.
Braddon isn't unarmed for long. He pulls out his bastard sword in one smooth motion and sweeps it wide with both hands at the man his companions are chasing.
There is no way for the priest to evade the oversized blade in the small room, but he expertly twists his body with the swing to minimize the damage and stay on his feet after a blow that would have downed one of his underlings. He grunts with pain, and blood begins to stain his robes, but he holds up his unholy symbol once more before attempting to dash around Braddon to the ladder.
----------------------
"The trap you weren't a part of had a child watch a woman cut her own throat. I wonder which scar will last longest.", Gristav gauged grimly. "Know that I could feel justly doing, and justice done, with all your bruises fading before their scars. It's not lost to my sensibilities, you've no bruises. But then, I've still no answers. There's plenty of time."
"Now, if I need to make you less enough nimble to not dodge the questions, I'll be switching to the cudgel. Do you remember the questions, or will I have to repeat them?"
"I don't control the priest," the Small woman whines, "and if you want a damned contortionist, you'd best hire one from the brothel. I just brew the drugs and poisons; that's what Marzo hired me for. Kreun handles the money and the cover."
Snake resists the disorienting pulse of negative energy and swings his staff as the priest darts for the ladder, although he manages only a glancing blow.
"Haha. Take that my ergala!"
As Braddon succumbs to the shrieking in his head, the priest reaches the ladder and begins to climb, dropping his sword onto the bare wooden planks with a clatter.
Dismaying as Braddon succumbs to the mind-fog and knowing that Serpe has a better chance than he to end the conflict... Phillip channels the desperate center within and does what he can to aid that end. Squeezing past both of the longshanks, he lunges for Aita, attempting to rip him off the ladder.
Phillip pushes past the witch, runs around Braddon, and flings himself desperately at the priest's lowest foot, trying to dislodge it from the rung or at least seize his ankle and hold on, but Kreun manages to twist his leg free.
"I don't control the priest," the Small woman whines, "and if you want a damned contortionist, you'd best hire one from the brothel. I just brew the drugs and poisons; that's what Marzo hired me for. Kreun handles the money and the cover."
"So, you're not part of my cause here?; I'm hoping not to overtell, nor overstep, nor under... execute. I hope I'm making that all clear. If we have him, we'll have little use, nor case, nor cause, against you. If we lose him... you'd have helped that. You'd need to be kept. And questioned more closely. So sharing whatever you might, of his plans, his paths, before then, may serve you better."
"And unless you hope to inspire thoughts of brothels or contortionists, or to convey a claim of some Calistrite right or concomitant caution, I urge you to drop the line from your arguments."
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Snake moves in next to Braddon. "What goes up...,"
"Apparently keeps going up," he finishes as he misses horrendously. "That could've gone a lot better."
Braddon wildly attempts to stab at the fleeing priest, forgetting that he's facing the wrong way and his own body is between his blade and its intended target. The pain brings him back to reality, and he watches with the other two as the cleric scales the ladder.
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"So, you're not part of my cause here?; I'm hoping not to overtell, nor overstep, nor under... execute. I hope I'm making that all clear. If we have him, we'll have little use, nor case, nor cause, against you. If we lose him... you'd have helped that. You'd need to be kept. And questioned more closely. So sharing whatever you might, of his plans, his paths, before then, may serve you better."
She glances toward the stairway, as if double-checking that the priest can't overhear. "He was heading upstairs to get ... something. Probably the money he's hiding from Marzo. I don't know where he keeps it, but his room's up there and he has the only key."
AoO: for
"Ergala..ah...aarrgghh!!"
Braddon shakes his head and lashes out in fury at the retreating priest.
Phillip swipes at Kreun's ankle with his dagger but cuts only air. Snake's staff just catches the priest's ribs. Braddon, however, channels his rage into a slash of his oversized blade that rips open a gash in the man's lower back. Blood is flowing freely down his legs, but somehow, though single-minded focus, he manages to keep climbing, albeit much more slowly than he began.
Surprised that the father of murder is still standing after two brutally efficient blows by Braddon, Phillip is faced with two inviolate truths. Firstly, that there was no way that he could match pace with the larger man upon the ladder... and secondly that the blade in his hand was unlikely to wound Aita deeply. Dropping his own dagger, Phillip instead seeks to invoke some degree of ironic justice and takes a knee to recover Kreun's own sword. With a spin and grunting heave, he sends the impromptu missile arcing upwards... hoping that the whim of Calistria grants him some degree of vengeance...
...but the Wasp Queen is fickle and capricious, and cruelly denies Phillip's plea.
Phillip tries to toss the larger weapon like the daggers he played at with the Varisian gladiators earlier in the week, but his aim is off: The shortsword clatters off the exposed wall joists and falls back to the floor.
Unsure of what to do, he just remembers something. Dropping his staff, "Get out, Luck!" he orders as he reaches inside his pack, pulling out a sling and a stone while the mongoose leaps out. Taking aim, he fires at the evil priest, hoping to bring him down.
Braddon pulls one of his many daggers and hurls it smoothly up at the figure.
Just as the priest seems about to heave himself atop the catwalk and out of range, the half-elf flings a dagger that buries itself deeply between his ribs. With a strangled cry, he falls backward off the ladder and thuds heavily to the floor.
"No!" Snake cries, as he's unable to prevent the man from hitting the floor as the dagger strikes true. "I need him alive!" Snake brings forth the magic to stop the blood flow, hoping it's enough to keep him from death's door. Once done, he bends down to check the man's pulse.
Relief ascendent as Kreun falls from his precarious perch, Phillip gives Braddon a grim nod of approval... before Serpe's voice is heard. Raising an eyebrow Phillip queries "Why?" before kneeling to relieve Aita of all he had of value...
Adding as an afterthought "We got lucky when we drove him to you Braddon... Was there anything above that could explain why he fled this way?"
Without looking up, "Because he's got information I need," he responds as he continues to concentrate on finding the man's pulse.
While the priest might have recovered from the dagger wound, the bone-crushing fall from the belfry was too much for even his brawny mortal frame. Beltias Kreun has gone to whatever reward or punishment Norgorber might deem fitting.
As he tries desperately to find one, the tall stranger realizes it's too little too late. "DAMMIT!" He pounds the dead man on the chest with a fist. Rising, he takes his leave without saying a word, heading downstairs and hoping Gristav has the nameless woman detained.
Shrugging Phillip states simply "Fate is fate" before turning to Braddon as he pockets vials and philtres... and a heavy coin pouch from Kreun's body "Take his blade if you like... it's too large for mine, but it looks decently made."
"That is a nice blade." Braddon gives it a test swing before swapping it with the masterwork short sword at his belt, which he sticks in his backpack, blade up. He rummages in the backpack for another beat.
"He was probably after this."
Braddon takes a small knapsack from his backpack and tosses it to the ground where it makes a solid and unmistakable chink sound.
He grins at Phillip. "Found it up the tree, then followed a branch in here." He gesture towards a window.
"So, what the Abyss just happenend? I spotted some guy spying on us, went into the room he was in and he's all like, 'We have your halfling. Tell us who you work for'. And I go 'Make me'. And this guy..." Braddon pushes the body with his toe "...says something to Gris outside and the other guy shuts up and starts waving a knife, so I shoot the idiot and he runs out and his mates lock me in the room and I hear Gris and Snake fighting outside so I jump out the window and meet you."
Braddon shrugs.
Smiling back to Braddon after the clink of the knapsack Phillip winks "Best you keep that in your backpack, we'll divvy it up later... but no point drawing attention to us having found it eh?" standing back up and taking great pleasure in sighing and working one hand through his hair and smoothing out his mustache.
Recalling back to his curtailed discussion with Kreun Phillip expounds "Seems he thought that we were working for Kane?" said somewhat questioningly before he looks to Serpe for confirmation, having wagered that Gristav was unlikely to have used a name that was not his own. Eyes back to Beltias "This one was working for a Marzo... of the Cove..." before picking up his unholy mark "Though I'd doubt Marzo knew he was one of the Reaper's... what did he say to you Serpe?"
Braddon shuffles the bag of loot back into his backpack, then glances around the small room. "There may be something else in here. It was dark when I first came in, so better check it out now."
Braddon peers and pokes around, glancing about the upstairs windows to see if any more look out to alternate locations or hiding places.
He mutters amiably as he searches. "Do you reckon we could keep this place? Or would the owner want it back? I should probably give the scribe back his short sword. Maybe his armour too. I was thinking of changing the crest and keeping it but if I return the sword I should probably return the armour too. It stands out too much anyway. Gold. What an idiot."
He pauses a beat.
"Whoops, better head down and check on Gris and Snake."
She glances toward the stairway, as if double-checking that the priest can't overhear. "He was heading upstairs to get ... something. Probably the money he's hiding from Marzo. I don't know where he keeps it, but his room's up there and he has the only key."
"What are the chemistries and alchemies you're capable of?", Gristav asks. "And I suppose if you're going to peek from under your hoodwink, you may as well sit more normally and comfortably. But do be emptying your pockets. Wouldn't do to be found with a copy of that only key."
"I can make alchemical grease, bladeguard, and soothesyrup," she replies with professional pride. "Alchemical cement, armor ointment, a buoyant balloon, chill cream, glowing or invisible ink, marker dye, a water purification sponge, keros oil, a liquid blade, a paper candle. Poisons, I can make nitharit, rat poison, belladonna, id moss, indigo dreams, oil of taggit, striped toadstool, azure lily pollen, insanity mist, ungol dust, bloodroot, blue whinnis, and greenblood oil. Of course, that's contingent on having the proper materials; some of them run right pricy. Flayleaf's what I was mostly making here, for the boys to sell." She removes two vials from her pockets as she lists her repertoire and lays them on the floor.
------------------------
Braddon searches the belfry and eventually finds a panel in the northeastern wall that can be lifted away. In the space behind it, a small chest is secreted, looking much newer and less neglected than the dusty and cobwebbed niche it's occupying. Behind the chest is a rather unwieldly object wrapped in sailcloth, apparently too large and awkward to fit inside the chest.
"I can make alchemical grease, bladeguard, and soothesyrup," she replies with professional pride. "Alchemical cement, armor ointment, a buoyant balloon, chill cream, glowing or invisible ink, marker dye, a water purification sponge, keros oil, a liquid blade, a paper candle. Poisons, I can make nitharit, rat poison, belladonna, id moss, indigo dreams, oil of taggit, striped toadstool, azure lily pollen, insanity mist, ungol dust, bloodroot, blue whinnis, and greenblood oil. Of course, that's contingent on having the proper materials; some of them run right pricy. Flayleaf's what I was mostly making here, for the boys to sell." She removes two vials from her pockets as she lists her repertoire and lays them on the floor.
Demi-hooded and half-turned, Chrysanthemum likely missed the deference, dismay, and distaste the detailed description of the dubious dispensarist's repertoire received. "You forgot bottled fire.", Gristav eventually said levelly. "My understanding of flayleaf was that it needed no processing. Or am I mistaken?"
He let her answer, only half-listening in worry on his fellows and on the obvious {Really should have occurred to you earlier...} possibility the Indigo Dreams might not have been sourced from the nest of the Wasp Dame.
"I don't make alchemist's fire, as a rule," Chrysanthemum answers matter-of-factly. "Some of the time it turns out fine, but some of the time, it has a nasty habit of exploding in your face before you get it into the bottles. Too dangerous."
"'No processing,'" she scoffs. "Aye, and a man can pick leaves and berries and kill his own meat and cut it bleeding from the corpse, so there's no call for cooks, I suppose? You want the potency right so you get repeat customers and not corpses, you need a professional."
"Extending your metaphor, I can see that while I've dined on charred and sharded squirrel, it's a raised and braised beef I'd serve, if to the public. Perhaps with subtle saffron scent, spellbourne sousance..." Gristav audibly smacked at the thought. "Are there spells in your schooling?"
Finding Gristav in the middle of some kind of conversation, Snake moves up and notices that he's got her in a precarious predicament. "Seriously, Gristav?" Rolling his eyes and shaking his head in frustration, he pushes Gristav's bow away and grabs the woman by the arms, pulling her to her feet. Then he pulls down the hood from her face, staring at her through narrowed eyes a moment, studying her. "Who are you working for!"
"I already told you," she snaps back. "I work for Marzo. He sent me here to work with Kreun, and I did as I was told. Whatever shenanigans Kreun got up to with the profits, I had nothing to do with it. I'm no doublecrosser."
Snake sighs. "Yeah, I know you did. But I don't recognize you." He rubs his eyes a moment before continuing. "Look, I could care less whether or not you're a doublecrosser. What I need to know is what kind of operation Kreun and Marzo was running out of here."
Finding Gristav in the middle of some kind of conversation, Snake moves up and notices that he's got her in a precarious predicament. "Seriously, Gristav?"
"Deadly seriously. Seemed kinder than bludgeoning her like the other four. And this way, she can still dance. Or sing?"
-----
After Mumsy has responded to Snake, Gristav adds, "She works for Marzo. He sent her here as resident alchemist, you know, for the poisons and the drugs. She's only aided Kreun's defense under observation and duress. On the other hand, she's only answered my questions similarly. I don't think we should imagine she'll let secrets slip. Not accidentally."
Gristav sooops up the vials and steps away, pocketing them before casting detect magic.
"But Chrisanthemum... you might want to be more forthcoming. Herepus here is... impatient. All of your allies in the house are defeated. And... well, maybe you've figured that last one out."
"Herry, put her in Kane's cabinet, put a broom through the handles, and question her later. We're still pretty busy here."