Sighing as the question to Serpe is answered by his back, Phillip nods to Braddon "Aye, I'll follow you in a few moments."
Snake simply stares at Gristav a moment as if attempting to bore holes through him with laser eyes. "It's Snake. Just... Snake. And no one is being put in a cabinet." He turns back to the halfling, "Now, back to my question. And sit if you want, doesn't matter to me."
Phillip waits first to see if Braddon moves away below... he does remind the half-elf "Remember, don't mention the coins..."
He then moves throughout the upper floor with whatever keys could be mustered and seeks to open and search each room in turn. Any locked portals he attempts to breach through key... and is most interested in seeking the lock that marries the smaller key found upon Kreun.
If encountering the drug addled persons who dwell here, Phillip passes by - but if he strikes upon stores connected to those that attacked them... he pays greater attention, especially remembering that Rasper bore no coin upon himself.
The halfling eyes Snake suspiciously. "Standard flayleaf operation. Leastaways, that's all I know about it. Grow a user base, corner the market, rub out any competition. The whole do-gooder approach was Kreun's idea. Said we'd avoid too much scrutiny if people thought we were a bunch of chumps; I hear he even talked some pigeons out of 'contributions' for the good work."
Phillip waits first to see if Braddon moves away below... he does remind the half-elf "Remember, don't mention the coins..."
"Which coins? These?" Braddon holds up the knapsack then returns it into his backpack.
"Or these?" He holds aloft the newfound chest and shuffles that into his backpack too along with the sailcloth wrapped object."Don't worry," he responds to Phillip's answer. "I won't blab. Call if you need anything."
Braddon leaves Phil on his own and pads downstairs to find the others.
Phillip wryly smiles "Either... least not until we've put this place behind us" the mystery of what Beltias' key might fit already solved it seems.
Braddon has a hard time trying to wedge the wrapped object into his backpack. It's not as heavy as the coin-filled knapsack but is rigid and of an awkward shape, rather like a knobby kite. In Phil's judgment, the small key on Beltias' ring looks to be the right size to fit the chest.
"Snake", Gristav calls from his crouch over the fallen man at the stairs, by seeming happenstance just as Gristav pockets another two phials. Gristav continues in Elvish. "Mi ne certas, kiam vi ĉesis aŭskulti min. Mi esperas ke vi komencu denove, nun. pri pli la malgranda, ol renkontas la okulo; la magio sur sxin, por ekzemple. Mi sugestas, vi demandas pri tio."
Snake cuts his eyes toward Gristav a moment, wondering what he's talking about. "You got some kind of magic about you, hm? You wanna tell me what that's about?" he asks, looking at her through narrowed eyes.
She blushes a little. "That was Kreun's idea. Thought one of your boys might be a little quicker on his feet to aid a damsel in distress than old Mumsy. Told him you'd recognize me anyway, but it wasn't worth the aggravation to argue with him."
"Is he dead yet?" Braddon addresses the adroit arcanist arched over the unsuccessful assassin as he saunters slowly down the single set of stairs.
"Are you okay? Where's Snake? Is he okay? Did we get them all? Nice job upstairs- dunno what you needed me for. Is there anymore searching needed down here? We should check those last few rooms upstairs. Then meet the General. He's gonna be annoyed that we're late. Or were we meeting him this afternoon with letters and vials?"
"So you're Mumsy." He glances over at Gristav by the stairs before leaning in close toward the halfling. "What do you mean by: I'd recognize you? And I need you to be real clear with your explanation."
She glares at him suspiciously. "I mean you know about my little ... rejuvenation cocktail. Mumsy's Little Helper on her night out."
Snake just stares hopelessly at her. Rubbing his hands over his face, "I said CLEAR!" he exclaims, anger obvious in his voice. He then pulls off his hat and pointlessly adjusts it out of frustration before replacing it atop his head. Pacing a moment, he quickly stops and has the urge to attempt to discern what type of magic is upon her.
While Snake discerns the magic aura, he is unable to identify it.
Phillip piles all the weaponry at the top of the stairs, so as to make it easier to either tip down or carry later. He leaves them clothed in their armor though... not inclined to spend the minutes and effort it would take to relieve them of it.
As he's still alone above and left with the bodies, Phillip muses on the topic of further blood. Though they'd survived here and today... the Varisian memory is long and storied, and the halfling had no desire to be at the tail end of a sanguine trail of retribution. Easier to strike decisive and with fear... destroy the head and the body will find another man to give it ideas.
Phillip settled beside Badeye... the man was likely an idiot, but was strong and might be the only one in Phillip's reckoning to take true umbrage at Kreun's death. Better then that the pair walk beside rather than apart. A measured swing with Badeye's liberated morningstar would hopefully resolve the issue...
CDG:
Bloody matters attended to... Phillip turned his eyes and hands to the other rooms around them.
"Is he dead yet?" Braddon addresses the adroit arcanist arched over the unsuccessful assassin as he saunters slowly down the single set of stairs.
"Are you okay? Where's Snake? Is he okay? Did we get them all? Nice job upstairs- dunno what you needed me for. Is there anymore searching needed down here? We should check those last few rooms upstairs. Then meet the General. He's gonna be annoyed that we're late. Or were we meeting him this afternoon with letters and vials?"
Gristav eyes seem unhinged, focusing together but not on anything obvious to Braddon. "He's dead; swords will do that.", Gristav answers as he's asked, "No, I'm not well. If I had a hat, it might not fit; my head is pounding... Snake is over there, dining room-ish. He's doing better than I, but not quite himself. The last of them-", Gristav gestures toward Mumsey, "Snake's talking to her. Search it all; take the porridge off the stove before it's a fire. Then I'll check the rooms with you. But I wouldn't leave our halfling alone now... Last few rooms, what have you found yet?"
"We have time before the meeting, time enough to try again what we failed to do here. Justice and Mercy, remember?", Gristav groused, then grimly chuckled over the fallen, gutted thug. "We were given luck; perhaps it's an omen, of eventual success.", he said hopefully.
Braddon's face twists at Gristav's reaction. He pauses then reaches a sturdy hand stand to rest on Gristav's shoulder.
"Better these guys die than more innocents. Or us." Braddon smiles grimly.
"What were they doing? Did they do that...thing," Braddon shudders, "to the worshippers? How did you get onto them? You're pretty clever."
Feeling like he's beating a dead horse, Snake leans back in near the halfling, whispering in her own tongue. "Vai recibir unha mensaxe de Marzo para min. Vai dicir-lle o seu funcionamento é longo. Kreun está morto e por iso son os seus lacaios. Diga-lle que se ten un problema con iso, pode vir me atopar."
He leans out and immediately turns to leave but stops himself, slowly turning back around. "And tell him 'Snake' sent you." Lowering the tip of his hat, he turns and leaves.
Heading towards Gristav and Braddon, he stops, "Lasu la duono pentras iri. Ni akiris pli grandan fisxon."
Just as he's about to head upstairs, he remembers those that are left in the building. He immediately turns and heads back toward them. As he approaches, he moves to check upon the woman who cut her own throat, making sure her breathing is steady. Good. She's still doing good. Looking to the crazy man and then to the little girl, "Okay, darling, where are the bedrooms in this place? I need to give her a better place to rest than this floor. And while we do this, you can give me your name and tell me hers and his." He motions to the unconscious woman and the crazy man.
Feeling like he's beating a dead horse, Snake leans back in near the halfling, whispering in her own tongue. "Vai recibir unha mensaxe de Marzo para min. Vai dicir-lle o seu funcionamento é longo. Kreun está morto e por iso son os seus lacaios. Diga-lle que se ten un problema con iso, pode vir me atopar."
He leans out and immediately turns to leave but stops himself, slowly turning back around. "And tell him 'Snake' sent you." Lowering the tip of his hat, he turns and leaves.
"What the--?" Her face twists in consternation. "You mean Kreun was straight the whole time, and you're the traitor? You damned back-stabbing weasel!" Her hands unconsciously dip into her now-emptied pockets, but finding nothing, she contents herself with flinging angry words at his back. "You think Marzo's just going to let this go? He'd go farther than the distance between Riddleport and Roderic's Cove to settle scores with a turncoat!"
Looking to the crazy man and then to the little girl, "Okay, darling, where are the bedrooms in this place? I need to give her a better place to rest than this floor. And while we do this, you can give me your name and tell me hers and his." He motions to the unconscious woman and the crazy man.
"I'm Cassey," she replies, "and this is Neena." She holds up her one-armed doll. "They call her Finnie," she nods to the woman on the floor, "and that's Micah," she concludes with a contemptuous glance at the barefoot man.
"'The Fallen,'" he insists with a whimper. "Micah the Fallen."
"Bedrooms are upstairs," she goes on, ignoring him, "but they're all taken."
"What the--?" Her face twists in consternation. "You mean Kreun was straight the whole time, and you're the traitor? You damned back-stabbing weasel!" Her hands unconsciously dip into her now-emptied pockets, but finding nothing, she contents herself with flinging angry words at his back. "You think Marzo's just going to let this go? He'd go farther than the distance between Riddleport and Roderic's Cove to settle scores with a turncoat!"
A sly grin forms as he walks away.
"I'm Cassey," she replies, "and this is Neena." She holds up her one-armed doll. "They call her Finnie," she nods to the woman on the floor, "and that's Micah," she concludes with a contemptuous glance at the barefoot man.
"'The Fallen,'" he insists with a whimper. "Micah the Fallen."
"Bedrooms are upstairs," she goes on, ignoring him, "but they're all taken."
"Well hello then, Cassey and Neena." He nods, smiling. "Yeah, well, one of 'em is about to be open; c'mon, you can show me the way." He looks over to Micah, "Micah, I need your help. You are not fallen, you've just been lied to by Beltias. He won't be lying to you again, I promise. And if you truly believe you've fallen, what do we do when we fall, Micah? We rise." He states with absolute conviction. "I need you to rise, Micah. Heck, you tried to save this one's life. From where I'm standing, that's not the actions of one who's fallen. Think about it. And if you decide you want to help take care of Finnie while she rests, I think that would be a good idea."
He grabs her under her arms and pulls her up from behind, holding her in place with one arm while he uses the other to place behind her legs, lifting her in the air horizontally. "Alright, Cassey and Neena, show me the way."
Braddon's face twists at Gristav's reaction. He pauses then reaches a sturdy hand stand to rest on Gristav's shoulder.
"Better these guys die than more innocents. Or us." Braddon smiles grimly.
Gristav set a hand over Braddon's, a mansome double-pat declaiming any too much affection, but a faint smile and nod at the offered cheer declaring it all genuine.
"What were they doing? Did they do that...thing," Braddon shudders, "to the worshippers?"
"The thing, the evil, was the priest. A door he could open, to hate and madness. You've closed it. Well done. If it was what made some of them mad... I don't know, but it could be. A man who worships such madness might revel in twisting a mind..." Gristav stops himself, a look on his face of raw disgust.
" How did you get onto them? You're pretty clever."
Gristav laughs, and smiles at Braddon. "And you're a handsome fool. We're both fools, me most of all. How did I get onto them? They locked you in a closet! I came here to hire a priest for a good work, Justice and Mercy, remember? And something... the halfling? Snake? Something panicked them, they drew blades... and we won. I spoke of luck. Sometimes, I think, I speak with Luck. But mostly, I try to listen..."
Glancing toward the ranting Halfling hostess, and seeing Snake coming with wounded and hangers-on, Gristav concludes, "If I had known, I would have tried to plan, Phillip would have demurred... it wouldn't have gone as well. I try to be worthy of Lady Luck. She's always been worthy of me."
Gristav moves to intercept Snake. "Upstairs is not a good place, right now, to walk a child through...", Gristav reminds. "Patience, please. Soon enough. You want to do, now, what you can. But you'll do better, just a bit later."
Whether Snake waits or not, Gristav doesn't let his attention get too far from Mumsey.
"This whole place is not a good place, Gristav. But that's gonna change," he responds before looking to the little girl. "C'mon, Cassey, lead the way." He allows her to go first up the stairs before following right behind.
"Se ĝi estas nur tenante sxin, mi havas katenojn. Alie starigos sxin kurado. Ni ne scias se supre estas klara nun," Braddon tells Snake.
Once the halfing leaves, Braddon wedges the door closed behind her before following the others upstairs with Kreun's short sword drawn and ready.
He glances over her way to make sure she isn't listening before responding to Braddon. "Ŝanĝu ŝi kuris. La malgrandaj vi ĉiam rulos dorso. Ĝi estas la pli granda, kaptu ke mi serĉas; kaj ŝi estas la logaĵo." Snake nods.
"Set her running. The small ones you always toss back. It's the bigger catch that I'm looking for; and she's the bait."
Having made a pile of the weapons of the fallen at the top of the stairs, Phillip takes Beltias's keyring and begins at the belfry to see what other secrets Rag's End may be hiding. The two doors on the eastern wall open onto a long, narrow storage room, cluttered with broken furniture, empty bottles, and piles of shabby clothing. One of two dirty windows in the eastern wall is broken out, and a rope tied to the northernmost door handle dangles out; this is doubtless Braddon's escape route. Apart from the rope which Braddon will probably want back, Phil finds nothing of value to the group in the clutter, although the destitute of the district might appreciate the old clothes and blankets.
Moving around the corner to the next door, the one facing the broken-out window through which Snake leaped, Phil finds that the same key which unlocked the storage room opens it as well. In contrast to the clutter of the previous room, this small bedroom, while spartan, is scrupulously clean. In a case beneath the bed are some halfling-sized woman's clothing and accessories, none of any appreciable value or fashion, and a Small-sized masterwork backpack. In one of the pockets of the backpack are 5 gold coins.
Snake arrives upstairs with his burden and entourage. The child hesitates at the tangle of fallen men on the floor.
"Don't worry, they're not dead. Gristav just knocked them out with some magic. I'll tend to them as soon as I can get her put down. Just point me the way for me; you don't have to go any further," he tells the girl, hoping to put her at ease as the strain of carrying the woman so far is wearing on him.
"All of these doors are bedrooms," she replies in a soft voice. "But they're all locked."
Despite her words, Snake can see that at least one door is open on the other side of the pile of dead and nearly-dead.
Noticing the open door, "Okay, I'll be right back." Moving into the bedroom, he catches sight of Phillip but pays no mind to what he's doing as he proceeds to lay the unconscious woman on the bed, making sure she's as comfortable as possible. He moves back out and goes to check for signs of life among the thugs.
Braddon puts his head into the kitchen to address the halfling.
"Snake says I'm not to kill you, but he's just going upstairs. You might want to start running before he's out of earshot. The front's open."
Braddon prods her out with the short sword, wedges the door closed behind her, then follows the others upstairs to get his rope.
Phillip rolls up the small backpack, stuffing it into his own out of sight... in case it's owner was not yet indisposed. The coin is liberated to his pocket as he keeps rolling on through the upper level...
Moving into the bedroom, he catches sight of Phillip but pays no mind to what he's doing as he proceeds to lay the unconscious woman on the bed, making sure she's as comfortable as possible. He moves back out and goes to check for signs of life among the thugs.
As Phillip is leaving the halfling's bedroom, Snake comes in, carrying an injured woman and lays her on the bed. He is followed by a young girl and a barefoot man in a sailcloth tunic who is dithering quietly to himself under his breath as he glances back at the bodies on the landing.
Braddon puts his head into the kitchen to address the halfling.
"Snake says I'm not to kill you, but he's just going upstairs. You might want to start running before he's out of earshot. The front's open."
Braddon prods her out with the short sword, wedges the door closed behind her, then follows the others upstairs to get his rope.
"Brother, please.", Gristav interjects. "Unless you've good reason to be insistent, there's more I'd say to her before her release. I'd like to imagine she deserves to know, what really happened here. It's entirely possible, she's a better sense for it, than the rest of us."
Gristav hopes each of them in turn accepts his suggestion, but doesn't force either.
Phillip raises an eyebrow at Serpe before performing some mental arithmetic. If he's time for charity then it's likely business is put paid to... but alone and above first and before. He gives the Chelish man the merest of nods before continuing upon his larceny.
"Brother, please.", Gristav interjects. "Unless you've good reason to be insistent, there's more I'd say to her before her release. I'd like to imagine she deserves to know, what really happened here. It's entirely possible, she's a better sense for it, than the rest of us."
"Fair enough. Talk to her. Do you want manacles?"
Braddon gives the halfling a friendly wink."You should have asked for a quick death."
Then Braddon vanishes upstairs.
Leaving the halfling woman in Gristav's purview, Braddon joins Phillip and Snake upstairs. Having left Finnie on the bed, with Cassey and Micah to watch over her, Snake comes back out onto the landing to check on the fallen. Badeye is dead, as is the man whose bow Gristav liberated, but the other two are still alive, though badly hurt.
Phillip, in the meantime, moves to check the door at the head of the stairs. The key he used on the other doors doesn't fit, so he tries the next key on the priest's ring. The door opens to reveal a spacious room with a bed, a footlocker, and a writing desk, the furnishings much newer and more elegant than those of the rest of the building. Around a partition which nearly divides the room in two to the south of the bed is another bed with a footlocker, a chest, a chair, and a wardrobe. The more secluded bed has manacles locked to the headboard and several empty bottles beneath it. The larger footlocker and chest contain clothing of a size and fashion which would suit Beltias. The small footlocker contains assorted small articles of women's clothing and several different colored locks of hair. Hanging in the wardrobe are black robes and a featureless black mask. In the bottom of the chest, beneath the clothing, are a well-worn backpack and a scimitar in a scabbard.
Phillip's demeanor darkens as he takes in more and more of the room. A picture of what might have taken place within the priest's quarters. Picking up one fo the empty bottles beneath the bed he gives it a brief sniff...
...before discarding if back to the floor. The backpack is rifled for contents and the scimitar half-drawn to allow for some reckoning of it's worth...
...before tucking the blade under his arm. He begins to move towards the door before pausing, and turning to regard the trophies taken and the hanging mask.
A chill feeling runs along his spine before he resolves to leave them where they are, and make instead for the few rooms left unplumbed.
"I'm glad you could spare the time."
Chrysanthemum's only response to Gristav's politeness is a spiteful scowl.
"It's clear to us both: we're going to be releasing you. It's clear to me: you'll be returning to Marzo with the tale of today. I'd have you tell ALL of it, and you're just the sort that could. I'll be relying on your intelligence and perspicacity, but still pointing out what I feel is significant."
"You'll have seen: There's no real leader among us. Even where an expert may be recognized, no authority is granted by that wisdom. We're more a pack of cats, all on the same scent, all deniably trying and demonstrably failing to herd the others. It'd be comedy, if there weren't so much tragedy about."
"I'm about to reveal some detail of our purpose here today. You'll not likely believe it. It's true, nonetheless. I'm unclear on how the matter turned bloody, but you might put all that together for yourself. If you can, I'd appreciate your sharing."
"I am Gristav. I felt I owed you a name, though you may have had it already. Yestermorn's wave had swept Padraig into my charge, and on returning him here, I met Beltias. That evening, in pursuit of the investigation of a murder, I committed to try to obtain the miraculous services of a priest. Thinking Beltias to be what he'd tried to appear to be, I came here today with that purpose. Believing Beltias' justification for his stoopful of foul stoops, namely pressgangery and general danger of the neighbourhood, I brought with me several others, none of long acquaintance, none, I thought, with any connection to your operation. Beltias refused priestly cooperation, and I was about to leave, when your- when his thugs locked the other half-elf in a room upstairs, and brandished bow and blade at Snake and I."
"Well, this was intolerable. Gently as I might have managed, they were all laid low. Four, five... six, now? And yet, we all stand, if not all lightly. Beltias revealed, adherent and channel, for the very heart of madness and murder, the blood, just in this single hour, of some half-dozen, on his hands. Hands that are at last still, a channel of murder and madness, closed. It was not the day I wanted, not the day I chose. But I judge it a good day."
"I observe, you hold some ill-will against Snake. I heard some of what you said. Perhaps, mindful of what evil Beltias was working- and not the naughty 'evil' of chemistry, charlatanry, and dark-side dealing in dipsomant's distillations... but evil, Chrys. Evil that has a woman cut her own throat, a woman stood beside a child, before a madman... and was he mad before Beltias?. Real Evil, without choice or care, channeled to serve, to be used, as you were used, to delay us. From a fight he chose, he started, for a cause..."
"Well, I don't know the cause. Perhaps you know the cause. All I know, is we prevailed, and I feel alright about it."
"How do you feel, about serving as a tool, to such a man?"
She shrugs. "I've worked with all sorts of people. Doesn't mean I have to like them. When Beltias opens up that shrieking pulse of his, it doesn't care who's nearby any more than one of my poisons cares who's drinking it."
"But it sounds like you've been duped no less than the rest of us by this man who calls himself 'Snake.' Beltias thought the lot of you came from Marzo to check up on him, but it looks like this Snake's gone into business for himself. I'd never have cooperated if I'd known I was crossing Marzo to do it. You'd best ask yourself how you feel serving as his tool, because he's manipulated you into taking out Beltias."
"Brother, please.", Gristav interjects. "Unless you've good reason to be insistent, there's more I'd say to her before her release. I'd like to imagine she deserves to know, what really happened here. It's entirely possible, she's a better sense for it, than the rest of us.""Fair enough. Talk to her. Do you want manacles?"
"Not as a rule", Gristav grumbles, rubbing at the lump on his head, wincing both at the pain and the blood evident when he examines the explorer hand. "And I may need her to catch me."
Braddon gives the halfling a friendly wink.
"You should have asked for a quick death."Then Braddon vanishes upstairs.
"Follow him. Your things will be upstairs?"
As they begin, Gris begins to recount the day's intents and eclipses to Chrysanthemum...
Seeing Braddon arrive, "Help me with these, bub. These two didn't make it. Let's get the live one's first and then'll I'll come up and get the smaller dead one. Gonna need your help with the big fella. Once we get the live ones downstairs, you can make sure they got nothing on 'em - so when I heal 'em and they wake, they've got nothing to fight with. After that, we'll let Gristav talk to them and if they don't kill themselves, they can leave. You know, that's odd...," he looks to the one that possessed the bow, "Gristav knocked that one out with magic from the get-go. I don't think it was a kind of spell that would kill a man." Shrugging, "Is what it is. C'mon let's hurry and get this done before these two start to smell." Snake will grab a body of one of the ones left alive and begin to haul him downstairs.
Phillip's demeanor darkens as he takes in more and more of the room. A picture of what might have taken place within the priest's quarters. Picking up one fo the empty bottles beneath the bed he gives it a brief sniff...
The bottle smells of cheap liquor, much like the rotgut he purchased to share with the gladiators earlier in the week, but there is an additional oily tang to the aroma that seems out of place. It occurs to him that the Lubbertown alchemist with whom Tendal contracted to identify the vials from Lil's flat and to whom Snake hopes to sell the spider venom might be able to identify the additive; as he recalls, Pitivo Vitteri is to be at the Gold Goblin after lunch.
The backpack is rifled for contents and the scimitar half-drawn to allow for some reckoning of it's worth...
...before tucking the blade under his arm.
The scimitar appears to be of no especial value; Phil judges it might sell for 7 or 8 gold. The backpack does seem to conceal some contents, judging from its weight and lumpiness; he is just about to open it when he hears Snake giving instructions to Braddon outside the door....
She shrugs. "I've worked with all sorts of people. Doesn't mean I have to like them. When Beltias opens up that shrieking pulse of his, it doesn't care who's nearby any more than one of my poisons cares who's drinking it."
"But it sounds like you've been duped no less than the rest of us by this man who calls himself 'Snake.' Beltias thought the lot of you came from Marzo to check up on him, but it looks like this Snake's gone into business for himself. I'd never have cooperated if I'd known I was crossing Marzo to do it. You'd best ask yourself how you feel serving as his tool, because he's manipulated you into taking out Beltias."
Gristav laughs. "He didn't know I'd be coming here. I didn't know, until late last night. Manipulated me, and the murderer, the murdered, the relative, the rogue, the racketeer, the rapist, the rapee, the robbers and the robbed, the other robbers... well, you see my point. I... doubt it. He's shown no gift of wit; he has the confused nature of a man... waking from a dream, or descending into one, and unclear, as to which." Gristav's face evidences epiphany. "And that, may be a clue. But first, of Beltias."
"You disdain Snake for what you see as treachery- 'turncoat', you name him. Yet in your own words, Beltias served you the same poison, that bloodied my head, that cut that woman's throat. Surely, as you said, poison doesn't choose. But one still chooses to serve it. He served it to you. Or do you forgive that, because he was struggling for his freedom, for his life? I could see that."
"Back to Snake. Snake the turncoat... the skin-shedder! Where you might forgive Beltias, fighting for his life, his treachery to you; can you not see pardon for Snake, fighting for his soul?"
"Chrysanthemum: I see pardon for you, if you'll take it. Every dice cast, owes nothing to the dice before it. Every day dawns, owes nothing to the day before it. And every choice, is a new... choice."
Passing out of Beltias' room Phillip unceremoniously dumps the scimitar with the other weapons... but keeps the backpack upon his person to be investigated later.
Affixing Serpe and Braddon with a buisnesslike manner he cautions "Move them downstairs, make them comfortable, stop any more from passing to the Boneyard... but do not bring them back to wakefulness... at least not yet." holding gaze to see if there is some degree of assent or challenge.
"Happy to help, but I've only got two sets of manacles."
Braddon does as asked, always obeying the last person who makes a request.
He's eager to bring out his manacles and use them, showing not only that he's prepared but that he is a professional bounty hunter... or was.
The dead bodies are piled away, the living manacled together and as Braddon goes into the various rooms, items are dumped in and around Phillip's pile of weapons.
With emotionless voice Phillip adds "There's another set of manacles in the Aita's room... but they are attached to the bed."