"I'm sorry for your loss all the same," Lubella said all the same. "Do you want it back? Or, if the memories are too painful right now, I could put it in safekeeping for you. You never know, you may want it someday."
"Keep it," she says. "And if it's all the same, I think we'd like to chance it ourselves out there. I think we've overstayed our welcome by quite a bit."
"Where will you go?", Lubella asked.
"Beats me," Korva admits. "I'll figure something out for us.
Kintargo's a pretty decent sized town, we should be able to squat somewhere and figure out our next move without being in your way."
"Good luck," Lubella said to the sisters. "You never know, our paths may cross again someday."
After bidding the Fushi Sisters goodbye, Lubella surveyed the warehouse, as well as the rest of the Wasp's Nest. "It looks like we've got some work ahead of us to get this place tidied up, and suitable for our headquarters. We'll need some cleaning supplies, Laria."
The playing cards on the table are a collection of 54 cards in six suits, quickly recognized as a harrow deck, painted with the vibrant colors and aesthetics of the Varisian peoples. Most of the crates are either empty or have spoiled food, but a few are filled with Varisian garments, finely embroidered and would probably fetch a fair price on the market. Finally, a satchel lying atop one of the crates contains a ledger and journal that Laria identifies as containing Nan's handwriting. A quick perusal corroborates Korva's story, up to his trepidation on informing the sisters that he was abandoning them in the Wasp's Nest. His final entry in the ledger indicates that he had been paid a large sum of money to transport "Varisian textiles" from Riddleport to Westcrown. Other than those two items, the satchel contains a coin purse with 72 gold pieces inside and an alabaster holy symbol of Abadar.
There's a small problem with the Varisian garments. The Fourth Proclamation proscribes the wearing of finely embroidered clothing for anyone not in the service of either House Thrune or the Church of Asmodeus, and these clothes definitely fit that bill. Finding a buyer might be tricky.
Lubella talked to Laria: "The textiles look like they could be sold for a reasonable amount of money. Did Nan have a family? I wouldn't want to leave them penniless. We also should give him some sort of funeral service; it wouldn't feel right to let him pass on unremembered."
"If he did, he never mentioned them," Laria replies with a shake of her head. "And if he did, then he was probably making someone very jealous back home. He occasionally bragged about having a lover in every port. I pried once to see if I could find out who it was here in Kintargo, but he just winked and said, 'I never kiss a boy and tell.' I let it slide after that, never seemed too important to follow up on, until now."
"Well, in that case we might as well have the service right away," Lubella said. "We don't want to keep the body here longer than we have to." She didn't mention the smell of the rotting corpse, but no doubt others were thinking the same thing.
"I'm going to say a few words in, say, an hour or so? What arrangements should we make for Nan's body? Is it feasible to have him buried? There's also the corpse of the corby to deal with."
I can help with, well, one of the corpses today. I could do another tomorrow. I have some magic that can expedite the decomposition. It would leave just a clean skeleton behind. Amalie says, turning to the others. I would rather perform it on Nan right away. The corby we can survive a night with, I think.
"I have no issue with that," Lubella replied to Amalie. "I'll defer to Laria's wishes regarding her friend."
"That actually will probably make things easier," Laria replies. "I was going to suggest we give him a burial in the Yolubilis tonight, tying some stones around his ankles so he'll sink, but that would solve a lot of problems. Same for the corby - Chough was her name, I think? I wouldn't commit them to the river in the same place, though. He shouldn't have to rest for all eternity next to the beast that claimed his life."
"It would be nice if Nan could come to rest at a spot where the sunlight could filter down upon him, so that the light of the Dawnflower may reach him," Lubella said. "Burial tonight sounds like a good idea. Ideally, it would be nice to do it during daylight hours, but that's probably not such a great idea in the current circumstances.
"Anyway, I should wash up and prepare my remarks for his service. It won't be anything fancy — just a few words, followed by a song of remembrance."
Let me know when would be the appropriate time to cleanse his corpse and I will work the delicate magics. Amalie says, letting a small sad smile spread across her face.
"You can do it now," Laria says with sadness in her voice. "I don't want to remember Nan like this. His body's been through enough. Which reminds me, I should clean up as well." She looks down at her clothes, which have stained red with all of the blood spilled by Korva in their tussle. "I'm in no state for a funeral, especially when the dottari are doing House Thrune's bidding."
After washing herself, and cleaning the muck of her clothes as best she could, Lubella returned to the others. Her holy symbol of Sarenrae, which she had been wearing hidden under her tunic, was now prominently displayed. When everyone was assembled, she began the funeral service. She stood with her hands behind her back, which she tended to do when she was speaking formally (and a bit nervous).
"We are gathered here to remember our brother, Nan Comerivos,
to give thanks for his life,
to commit his body to be buried,
to speed his spirit to the Great Beyond,
and to comfort one another in our grief.
"O Glorious Dawnflower, the Everlight,
your healing light banishes the darkness,
and fills our hearts with hope.
Watch over his soul,
and guide him to his final destination."
She paused, in case anyone wanted to say something in memory of the deceased, before leading the assembled mourners in a hymn to the setting sun, which told of hope for a new day when the light returned in the morning (she taught then the chorus, and sang the rest herself).
Laria eventually rejoins you in the Wasp's Nest, wearing dark plain clothes. "The first time I met Nan was in Westcrown," she says at the service. "I was still a tiller then, rather than a fixer, and I was escorting a family to freedom in Varisia. Nan was our ticket into the free lands, and we shared a mutual hatred for the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune. On that trip, we got stopped by a Chelish patrol ship who insisted the come on board and do a search for contraband. Nan managed to keep our presence on board a secret at great personal expense. They found some of the minor contraband he was smuggling out of Cheliax, and paid a hefty fine. There'd been a few smugglers I'd known over the years that would have calculated that differently. He was one of the good ones, so I kept using him. I'll miss the damn rogue."
She joins in with the singing, and tears drip from her eyes as his bones are committed to the Yolubilis. When all is said and done, she looks at the four of you. "Thank you for what you've done, but the work is only now beginning. We have a long road to travel, pardon the pun, if we want to free Kintargo from the despot in charge. We'll talk more about this tomorrow."
"I wish I'd been able to meet Nan in life," Lubella said, after Laria's eulogy. "I think I'd have liked him."
She scouted ahead, keeping an eye out for trouble, as the others carried Nan's bones to the banks of the Yolubilis. "Farewell, Nan Comerivos," she said, as his remains sank beneath the surface of the river. "Rest in Peace." Lubella put her arms around Laria, consoling her new friend in her grief.
Laria sobs lightly into Lubella's shoulder as the mortal remains of Nan Comerivos slip beneath the waters. She sniffles and pulls a handkerchief from her sleeve to dab at her eyes and nose. "Dammit, I told myself I wouldn't cry," she says with a sniff. "Both of us knew the risks in this line of work, knew it could be our last any day. And that doesn't make it any easier to say goodbye."
"Expressing your grief at the loss of your friend is not a sign of weakness," Lubella said gently. "Caring for the people around you makes you stronger." There are many dangers ahead; Goddess, give me the strength to protect my friends.
Lubella was lost in thought as the group returned to the Long Roads Coffee House. She glanced at her companions, who were preparing to confront the might of House Thrune, as they walked. I will protect my allies with my life. They are my light and my strength, as I am their light and their strength. We rise together.
As the newly formed Silver Ravens return to the Wasp's Nest, they each reflect upon the long road ahead of them. It will take time, blood, sweat, tears, and sacrifice if they wish to overthrow the despot that rules Kintargo. Each of them wonder if they have what it takes to be the revolutionary force that the city needs.
One thing is for certain - they are more resolute in their determination than they were when they protested in Aria Park just a few short days ago.
With her new insights, Lubella examined the magic items, trying to determine their properties.
Dawn arrives in Kintargo at its appointed hour, though much of the city is awake before light fills the sky. A large city like it is never truly silent, but now that morning has arrived it stirs to life. The citizenry go about their daily tasks, attempting to work within the proclamations handed down by the new regime. Somewhere in Jarvis' End, a shopkeep hangs a portrait of Abrogail II in accordance with the Second Proclamation. Elsewhere, a laborer quakes as he collects handfuls of grain that spilled from its sack under the watchful gaze of the Chelish Citizens' Group, despite the fact that it was they who spilled the grain in the first place.
Light pours in the window above the Long Roads Coffee House, and the Ravens slowly stir to wakefulness. The smell of yeast-filled baked goods wafts up from the kitchen, and your stomachs growl from the evening fast. As you regain sense of your surroundings, you all note that Felicia's bed is empty, and her rucksack is missing. Sitting upon the pillow is a folded note.
Hey guys, I'm sorry to bug out on you like this, but I'm not sure I'm cut out to be a leader. I mean, I hate House Thrune as much as the next gal, but really, what are our chances? Eventually, he's going to notice us, and we're going to be snuffed out like a burning candle at night. So, I'm out. Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me - I'm no snitch! Good luck, and...
(the note trails off from there)
Meanwhile, in a different portion of Kintargo...
Talvek awakens to the familiar noise of pots and pans clanging about - no doubt Pella assisting in the morning meal. As he awakens, though, he hears snippets of a conversation, muffled through the walls and his own grogginess. It sounds like one of the younger girls - Zea, maybe? - is having an argument about...something.
Talvek spends a good few minutes stretching luxuriously, tangling himself up in the blanket. He likes feeling the muscles awakening, the relaxation giving way to thrumming tension. His bed is only a thin mattress on the floor, but rather than rolling out, which would be easier, he arches his back and springs to his feet in a somewhat-less-elegant-than-he-had-imagined motion. Oh well, he just needs to practice it more.
Once upright, he heads to the shard of silvered glass that serves as his mirror, examining his face from every angle. It is not a particularly handsome face, which is a continuous point of frustration for Talvek. How can one be a dashing hero without the dashing part? Or perhaps... He snatches the blanket off the bed and wraps it around himself like a cape, covering the lower part of his face and glowering in the mirror with what is supposed to be a dark, mysterious, sexy glower. Hm, not much better. Dropping the blanket, he reaches for the small pot of wax on the rickety bedside table and starts oiling his horns. At least he has these going for him, right? Most people would expect him to be ashamed of his heritage or something, but not Talvek. No, this is something to be proud of, something that sets him apart. Horns may not be fashionable, but he will make them so, by the gods.
His somewhat narcissistic musings are interrupted by an increase in the volume of the argument in the next room, which he had done his best to ignore until now. Sighing, he finishes applying the wax, and wearing the blanket like a toga, pokes his head through the door. "What's gotten into you, Zea? Can't a fellow sleep in peace?"
Zea shoots a glare at Talvek, her brow furrowing, narrowing her large yellow eyes. "It's about time you were up anyway, lazy bones!", she says with a snorting laugh. "And maybe you can explain to your mother that I did not 'bring any of this on myself'!"
"Now that is unfair!", Pella says, turning her attention away from the pot of gruel upon the fire. "You're putting words in my mouth, young woman. I just said that there are people out there that will try to take advantage of you, and you need to watch yourself!"
"You see what I mean, Tal?" Zea says again, turning back to him and gesturing towards Pella. "She seems to think I'm some naive farm girl lost in the big city for the first time!"
The two women look to Talvek as they reach a silence, and the atmosphere in the room has become a bit tense.
Arcos rises before the others, intending to go for an morning walk for a bit of fresh air. He sees the note left by Felicia and frowns slightly. Well, I suppose we aren't all cut out for a rebel's life. He puts on his day clothes and heads into the kitchen for breakfast and some tea.
Talvek blinks twice, slightly confused and not wanting to get in the middle of an argument between his mother and his sister. "Er," is all he can manage for the moment. But his brow furrows in concern as he looks at Zea. "Has something happened? Not that you aren't very capable of dealing with... um, things, on your own, I'm sure. It's just that the lads were talking about some trouble yesterday, and I was curious what was going on, if you have any news." There, that was as diplomatic as he could put it. He wraps the blanket tighter around himself as he moves to help his mother with breakfast, another piece of diplomacy that he is rather proud of.
"Nothing bad," Zea says with a shrug, though it's clear she's not telling the whole truth.
"Zea got stood up by that girl she was seeing," Pella explains, earning a towel thrown at her by Zea.
"I told you, there were a lot of people at the protest, and then there was the riot and everything...", she replies, her sentence trailing off as she runs out of things to say.
Pella gratefully accepts the assistance in the kitchen, and in short order, bowls of hot gruel are passed around. "So, Tal, did you have any plans for today?", Pella asks.
"Plans?" He did, in fact, plan to hang out with his friends and talk about yesterday's events, but he knew that his mother did not approve of them. "Not really, did you need anything?" He throws a glance at his sister. "Would you like me to ask around? Y'know, about your friend?" In normal circumstances he would have joined in the teasing of Zea, but the riot yesterday sounded like a rather serious thing. People could get caught up in these things, who knew. Talvek starts spinning a heroic scenario in which he saves Zea's girlfriend from the Hellknights and becomes famous as the mysterious and elusive Horned Shadow. His eyes glaze over a little.
"Could you?", Zea says, her eyes brightening at Talvek's offer. "I'd hate to have something happen to her. I mean, it shouldn't be too hard to find her - how many catgirls are there in Kintargo?"
* * *
Meanwhile, at the Long Roads, you all clamber down into the main room, where Laria has already set places for you. A large pot of black coffee sits in the center, and baskets of pastries await. "Have a seat, friends, I'll be over in a jiff!", Laria calls over her shoulder, working diligently on rolling and slicing cinnamon rolls for baking.
"Sure, it's no trouble. Anything you can tell me about her would help. How does she look like, when and where did you last see her, where was she supposed to meet you..."
As he talks, Talvek ducks back into his room, leaving the door open so he can hear Zea's response. Discarding his blanket toga, he begins to dress in proper clothes - nothing fancy, to his great and enduring regret, but it's what he has for now. First comes his undershirt, then a linen blouse, the leather padding for the armour, the chain shirt and finally a loose-fitting overcoat. He debates for a long time which of his cloaks to wear, finally settling on a deep burgundy half-cloak that still looks dashing without impeding his movements should he need to fight. His rapier hangs on his sword belt together with a dagger, and his buckler, shortbow and arrow quiver go on his back, secured by leather straps. Several small bundles disappear into inner pockets or into leather pouches at his belt. Finally, he splashes some water on his face, combs his long hair and sets out with a kiss on his Pella's cheek and a wave to Zea.
Lubella woke just before dawn, in time for her morning prayers. Arcos was already up, and showed her Felicia's note. "That's too bad — I'll miss her!, she said. "Still, there's certain to be lots of trials ahead. We can't ask someone to face all that if they don't feel ready."
"Good morning!", she called to Laria, sitting down at the table. She waited for Laria to join them before mentioning Felicia's departure; that wasn't something she wanted any other patrons to overhear.
Lubella poured herself a mug of coffee and took one of the pastries. Sitting with the hot mug warming her hands, she savored the rich taste of java, and pondered the task ahead. The Silver Ravens had a headquarters and six members — no, given Felicia's note, make that five — how were they going to build an organization to take down Barzillai Thrune? They were going to need money, so selling the textiles from the warehouse seemed like a good place to start. She would have to be circumspect when approaching other merchants to find a buyer; perhaps she could explain that she had brought some trade samples (which was true), only to find that there was a ban on wearing fine clothing in public. Perhaps there were buyers who were interested in something to wear in their own homes?
The second thing she wanted to do was to set up a medical outreach to the poor. She should really scout out the poor neighborhoods, so she could get an idea of the conditions for herself. They would have to start small, perhaps tending to minor injuries first, since they wouldn't initially have a place suitable for long-term care (it didn't seem prudent to bring patients to the Wasp's Nest). Once they made a few connections, they could see people in their homes, and eventually set up a permanent clinic. In the beginning, she would have to rely on Amalie to handle the majority of the cases (Lubella could handle injuries, but diseases and other chronic conditions were beyond her skill). Once word of their work spread, she hoped to attract other healers to staff the clinic.
It might be best not to advertise the medical organization as being part of the Silver Ravens. That would soon draw the wrong attention. While treating their patients, they would have the opportunity get a feel for their political opinions. Those sympathetic to their cause could then be invited to join in their other activities.
So much to think about! Lubella took another sip of coffee, and a bite of the pastry. Best not to make too many plans on an empty stomach! She sniffed the air and looked over to see how Laria was coming along.
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Zea calls back to Talvek. At the Longroad, silly!.
***
As the three two of you enjoy the wonderful breakfast and company of Laria, you mull over the prospects of first Amalie's and now Felicia's departure. So much has happened in the past few days, and this is the first time you have had a chance to ponder what happens next. Next for you, the city, the Silver Ravens. Decisions which must be made...just not before finishing another cup of coffee.
Laria stops over after sending her last customers out, filling your cups.
You know, I cannot thank you enough for your aid in helping settle matters. I was thinking you might as well keep the Wasp Nest as a starting hideout if you are seriously considering re-forming the Silver Ravens—I certainly have no plans to use it for the Bellflower Network. At least not while Kintargo is under martial law. After all, I hate to see a good space go to waste.
She pauses, staring out the window.
But you two are going to need some help. With your friends departure, what will you do next?
"Well," Lubella replied. "I might as well start looking for a buyer for the textiles in the warehouse. If you have any suggestions about who to approach, I'm all ears. I'll have to be cagey about it, given Barzillai Thrune's forth proclamation.
"I also want to set up a medial clinic to provide free care to the poor. I should take a walk around the poorer areas of town to get an idea of the conditions. I had hoped that Amalie could do the bulk of the healing, but it looks like I'll have to find someone else. I can treat injuries myself, but I'm not experienced with diseases and chronic conditions."
She stopped to take another sip of coffee. "I suppose the first thing I should do is get out there and talk to a few people, to get the word on the street."
Laria pauses as she returns her gaze to Lubella.
Well, that sounds like a good start, dear.
And if you are looking for someone to talk to, you may not have to go far. I see someone heading this way. Although I cannot say I like the looks of him.
She points out the window as a tiefling appears to be heading towards the coffee shop door.
Kintargo felt subdued this morning as Talvek made his way north through Redroof, the people tense and nervous, and there seem to be more dottari around than usual. At Bleakbridge, there is a checkpoint, something that hadn't been there a few days ago. He manages to get past without incident, then takes the main road past the shipyard, the wall separating The Greens from the rest of the city on his right. Although he can only dream of attending Alabaster Academy, Villegre is a familiar place for him, often visited for a look at the bookshops or for attending the public lectures. The Long Roads coffeehouse is quite famous in these parts, so Talvek doesn't falter or stop to ask for directions, instead arrowing straight towards the place. The late morning means that the students are off to classes, so the coffee house doesn't seem to have many customers.
Tugging on his coat for one final adjustment and stealing a glimpse of himself in the front windows, the young tiefling steps through the entrance, setting the bell over the door tinkling. Inside, he is greeted by the sight of three people watching him in silence. He is not unaccustomed to stares from folks, but there seems to be something else to this kind of attention. His confident stride falters, but he forces himself to put on a cheerful demeanor.
"Erm, good..." His voice comes out rather squeaky, so he clears his throat and tries again, lowering his voice an octave. "Good morning, fine folks! I hope that I'm not interrupting a particularly thorny philosophical debate, eh?" They didn't exactly look like students, but you never knew. He was fairly certain that one of the halflings was the owner of the coffee shop, but... which one? He smiles hopefully at both of them, just in case.
"I'll reserve judgement till I get a sense of his character," Lubella replied to Laria. She was uneasy about making a snap judgement about the man just because he was a tiefling.
"Good morning!", she said cheerfully. "The coffee is excellent, as usual, if you'd like to join us."
Laria welcomes the newcomer as she does all her customers.
Good morning! Welcome to the Longroad. I am Laria, owner of this establishment. What can we get you on this fine morning? We are known for our coffee and conversation.
She smiles and turns to Lubella with a wink as she takes down a cup and motions for the tiefling to take a table.
"Ah, conversation is always good, although I won't say no to a cup of coffee either!" Talvek pulls a chair to the table next to where the other two are seated, turning it so that he faces them. After smoothing back his hair, he places his hands on the table in front of him, gloved fingers drumming on the wood.
"So! I was wondering, I mean, nice weather and all..." He trails off awkwardly, then coughs. Other people's scrutiny always made him feel nervous. But he had a mission and could not falter. Should he go for the smooth angle and try to coax information out of them? Or go for sympathy? Laria seemed a bit the motherly type, so the latter approach might work.
Adopting a serious expression, he starts again. "My sister, you see, has a friend. And her friend has gone missing, which worries my sister to no end. Frankly, considering the events of the last couple of days, who could blame her? And so, I was wondering if you had seen or heard anything of a... a lady of the err, feline persuasion. So to speak." He can't call her a 'catgirl' in front of these people!
"There was a woman who was in here recently, but I think she's spooked by what's happened, what with the protest and all," Lubella replied. "I'm afraid I don't know where she's gone, but you can tell your sister that her friend is OK."
She observed the young tiefling, trying to judge whether he was telling the truth. She had to be on guard, in case agents of the regime were trying to track down protesters.
"I think everyone's on edge; no-one knows what's going to happen next."
Arcos nods at what Lubella says before saying in the quiet, slightly timid voice of his social identity, "Yes, she most likely alright. We have not seen her for a bit, but I think your sister can be assured that her friend is fine." He takes a drink of his Vudrani tea, savouring the spice and richness.
Laria pours a hot cup of coffee for Tavlek then tops off the others.
"It is definitely a shame with all the activities and proclamations...not good for business if people are afraid to come out. ."
"It is a relief to hear that she is alright, I'm sure that my sister will appreciate the news, if not the... briefness of their acquaintance. And it is, indeed, a shame with what is happening." Talvek takes a sip of his coffee, trying to savour the aroma. In truth, he never could understand what people liked about the stuff, but he wasn't about to let that on. Perhaps if he drank more of it, it would come to him. Could it be the bitterness? In the same way that some people enjoyed eating sour or spicy food?
He looks pensive for a moment, as if about to say more, but thinking better of it. He had just met these people, he wasn't about to start blabbing about the Silver Ravens to them!
"Where are my manners?", Lubella said, standing up. "Lubella Heathertoes, at your service!" She bowed. Her nerves had been distracting her from observing regular halfling social etiquette, which wouldn't do! The proper formalities observed, she took her seat again, and took another sip of coffee. As far as she could tell, the tiefling was being truthful about Felicia being a friend of his sister. He also seemed to be hesitating a bit; her intuition told her it was worth the risk to offer a more direct observation.
"I think some of the merchants aren't too happy about the whole tea thing," she said in a slighly lower voice. "And the latest one: forbidding ship's captains from leaving their ships — that's got to have people worried." She wasn't sure that he would really care about the troubles of the merchants, but she needed to hint that she didn't approve of the proclamations.
Halflings sure were nice people! Talvek rises from his seat, bowing with a flourish to Lubella and her companion. "A pleasure to meet you, I'm sure. Talvek Drassed, your humble servant." He retakes his seat, his expression growing a tad sombre. "Since you speak of merchants and trade, you are no doubt familiar with that family name. Unfortunately, my father and I are... estranged. And sure, merchants are upset, ship captain are upset. The real question, I think, is - where does it stop? There is no sense to some of these proclamations, which leads me to two theories. You know how some people simply enjoy having power over others, and will exercise that power any chance they get? Or, you know how some people enjoy baiting others into making a misstep, only so that they can have an excuse to punish?" For a moment, he forgets where he is and carries on like he does when debating politics with his anarchist friends, growing more and more passionate.
Then he recalls his surroundings and clears his throat awkwardly.
Laria smiles at Talvek's assessment.
Aye, either could be true. But which is it? Or does it matter if the same result will occur? That is a good question for further investigation....well, you know, if one were to be into investigating that sort of thing. she says with a smile.
A couple of regulars stop in for a quick cup of coffee and then depart shortly to attend their daily business.
Before any more detailed discussions are made of plans, you may want to find a more private place to talk.