Karri sends the elementals after the man with an almost negligent wave of her hand. "End him."
The elementals give chase after him, crackling with power.
The man and the elementals disappear around a street corner.
Nalun turns on the elf woman, dropping his rapier to his side and eventually sheathing it. Well now. Out with it. Who are you?
"Me?" The elven priestess giggles and offers a curtsy. "Laori Vaus, of course! The one and only!"
"Were you guys looking for Mr. Scream too?"
Hmm. Yes. We were. Nalun says, a bit put off by this strange elf
Demitri will heal himself before walking over to their "ally". "Too? Why are you looking for him?"
"You did me a favor there, Ms. Vaus," gesturing to Nalun's freshly cured wounds. "And for that I thank you, but Demitri raises a very good question. If your interest in Mister Scream matches ours, then I can't see a good reason for us to work together. Why do you want to find him?"
From what word you've been able to pick up on the street, she's a priestess of Zon-Kuthon--but, oddly enough, were she not dressed in her skintight, jet-black & spiked chainmail and bearing His symbol, it'd be easy to mistake her for a priestess of a considerably cheerier deity. Her inflappably optimistic demeanour is rather incongruous for a Kuthite, but she's by no means harmless--she arrived in Old Korvosa from the shadow-shrouded country of Nidal just as blood veil began to spread, and the fact that she's still here and neither afflicted with plague nor slaughtered by cutthroats speaks volumes about her power.
"Too? Why are you looking for him?"
"If your interest in Mister Scream matches ours, then I can't see a good reason for us not to work together. Why do you want to find him?"
"Well, because I'm a HUUUUUUGE fan of his work, really!" Laori bounces on her heels, her black eyes shining with eagerness. She winces briefly as her chainmail shifts against her skin. "That, and quite a few of his art pieces have themes that are central to my faith. I was hoping to buy a few off of him to take home with me."
"Mind if I ask why you're looking for him?"
"He's... a friend of a friend. We'd like to speak to him about or mutual friend." "Just enough truth that is just vague enough."
Despite the elf's recent arrival, Lyla has heard a few things about Laori Vaus. She looks and behaves nothing like Lyla expected, and the halfling can't help but think that there's something else to her friendly demeanor. For now, Lyla decides to hang in the back and just let the situation unfold before warning her friends as to Laori's true allegiance.
"Ooh?" Laori leans towards Demitri with interest. "In that case, how about we come inside and you can tell me more? Quite a few unwelcome ears around here, if you ask me..."
"Alright." Demitri nods as he makes his way inside.
Stepping into the house reveals the place is even filthier on the inside. It appears that although Mr. Scream was an artist with his share of adoring fans, he wasn't exactly skilled with handling money. The front room of his home smells of must and mildew, much of it coming from the mud tracked over the floorboards, as if a small army had marched through the room. To the south stands a single empty set of shelves.
"See, I came here a while ago, looking for a wanted crook who escaped Nidal. Something about her engineering a nasty plague, ya know? By the time I got here, the plague was in full swing, and I..." Laori sheepishly giggles. "...well, I kinda lost the trail underneath all the blood, guts, pus, and whatnot."
"But it wasn't all for naught--while I was looking for my quarry, I discovered this reeeeeally cool painting on sale in town." She points to a painting on the wall as she leads the party inside. Framed amid a painted backdrop of jet-black chains and cold, grey, hewn stone is a figure swathed in a grey hood and cloak, a bloodied knife in his hand. The figure is carving a symbol of some sort into it's blue-scaled arm, and the blood is dripping onto the cobblestones below.
"I mean--just look at how the brushwork flows so neatly together. And the impressive use of contrast on the arm!" She claps her hands together, causing her chainmail to *clink*. "I just had to know who the artist was, and the vendor was kind enough to tell me. After I paid him a few extra gold pieces to settle his nerves a bit."
"Sadly, I didn't find where he lived in time to meet him."
"Well the good news is, we found her and stopped her. So you just wanted an autograph?"
Karri follows the party inside. Without being prompted she finds the painting. With Legion locked away, for now, They are so much easier to control if I let them out now and then..., the painting feels... Known. Staring at it, Karri misses the conversation behind her as tears begin sliding down her cheeks.
"That, and I REAAAALLLY wanted to ask him where he gets his inspiration from." Laori nods before blinking. "Thanks for taking care of Andaisin, by the way."
"Wait here." She turns on her heel and walks deeper into the house. "I've got something you might be interested in..."
A minute or two passes before Laori returns, a strange scrap of clothing in her mailed hand. "I found this down the side of Mr. Scream's bed. It looks like it came off of some official's uniform--does it look familiar to any of you guys?"
"It's not familiar to me, I'm afraid," Ortik replies after examining the symbol on the torn garment. He passes it off to anyone else who shows interest in it.
Nalun listens intently.
"Well, nearest I can figure, this official came by Mr. Scream's home here before I had a chance to meet him." Laori shrugs and sets the piece of cloth aside. "Problem is, I asked around to see where he'd gone off to."
"As it turns out... he's currently the hostage of some twit called the 'Emperor of Old Korvosa'."
"Er--Mr. Scream, I mean. Not whoever his politician buddy is."
"Well, it looks like we're gonna have to rescue Mr. Scream from the Emperor." Demitri frowns.
"Somehow I doubt we were going to leave him enthroned." Karri shrugs, "A larger Lamm, nothing more."
"Then his fate will be the same."
Laori's dark eyes light up anew. "Ooh..."
"Hey, if you're planning on kicking this Emperor's door in and getting Mr. Scream out of there, mind if I tag along?" She bounces on her heels again. "I'd LOVE a chance to help him out--and maybe show the so-called 'emperor' what it means to cross his biggest fan."
"We could use all the help we can get. And you've been nothing but helpful. Welcome aboard."
Laori lets out a little squeal and jumps for joy. "Yay!"
"So, how soon do you think we should set out? Might want to prepare for a serious fight--from what I've learned, this 'emperor' is charismatic enough to have a bunch of goons on his side. I'd like a chance to at least pray for some new spells."
"I would prefer to make haste. But you have a point. We should rest here and head out in the morning at full strength."
Laori nods enthusiastically. "Yes yes yes. This place ought to be safe enough now--unless you've got somewhere else in mind, I think we can rest here."
"Same here," Ortik says, reverting to his natural dwarven visage. "This lot wasn't particularly dangerous, but I've exhausted several prayers to the Old Dame just getting here, and more against the Red Mantis. If we're going up against the Emperor, I'd like to do it with her blessings in hand." He extends his hand to the woman, wiping it clean on his coat. "Ortik Gutterrat. It'll be a pleasure working with you."
Laori returns Ortik's handshake. "Likewise, sir!"
Realizing his lack of tact, the inquisitor introduces himself in kind.
"Demitri Severin."
How does Ortik make himself comfortable with anyone he meets? Karri offers her hand, "Karri". After the handshake she pulls back her hand, feeling awkward.
I'm Nalun. I'll take first watch...
Nalun will position himself at a window, preferably a 2nd story one.
Lyla gives Laori a forced smile and introduces herself without much enthusiasm. "Lyla. I'll join Nalun in the first watch", she says sitting down next to him and putting her backpack in front of her. The halfling girl takes out her formula book and scribbles something on the edge of one of the pages. She pokes Nalun and discreetly signals for him to take a look.
Careful with Laori. She's a cleric of Zon-Kuthon.
And so the party settles into their newest watch post, preparing for an assault on the domain of the so-called 'ruler' of this forsaken place. Many things have happened recently--a quarantine, the intervention of mysterious mantis-like assassins, and the one man who could possibly lead the party to the seneschal of Korvosa being in the clutches of a glorified madman.
Now, with an eccentric (if entirely cheerful) ally, it seems like your goal is more within your grasp than ever.
Nalun smirks at Lyla
Thanks Short stuff. I figured something was...off. he says
Great. A crazy person as an ally... the bounty hunter thinks to himself.
Sitting by Nalun's side while they both keep watch, Lyla keeps thinking about the events earlier that day. She tries to occupy her mind, but once she is done organizing their loot, a hundred questions spin around inside her head—questions that only Vencarlo Orsini can answer right now.
However, there's someone else who can help her with one very specific issue, and it just so happens to be the man sitting next to her. She turns to Nalun and speaks softly to avoid disturbing her friends' sleep. "So, slim, I know you've been practicing the rapier with the soldier's over at Citadel Volshyenek. Any advice on how to use that thing? I guess I need to learn that, and I was wondering if you could help. We can start with the basics, theory and all."
Sure thing. Nalun says
Stick the pointy end inside them... he deadpans but before long his chuckle turns into a guffaw.
Ok. Ok. It all starts with your feet...get that right and the rest falls into line. Stand like so... Nalun begins
Lyla pays close attention to Nalun's instructions, taking some notes every now and then and mimicking the movements he teaches her. The long day hits her eventually, and as she starts to get sleepy at the end of their watch. Her emotional guard down for once, she impulsively allows herself a rare physical display of affection—but not before making sure that no one around is awake to witness it. "Thanks, slim. That was helpful," she says, climbing a chair and giving Nalun an awkward hug. She breaks the embrace quickly, wakes up the next person in line for the night watch, and goes to sleep. She takes about ten seconds to pass out.
Ortik watches Lyla and Nalun train for a time, but his attention soon drifts to preparation for the next day. He pulls a parchment from his pack, along with some inks, and begins to pen a prayer to the Old Dame.
You soon discover why as your vision clears. You stand in a dark room hewn from scarred, grey stone. Before you lies a summoning circle--the same one from the very first dream you had since the Legion began to grow in power. A familiar weight sits in your clenched fist--the ivory knife gleams in your hand, despite the fact that no light shines in the room.
"You've done quite well for yourself, little Karri." A familiar voice says in the darkness. The runes of the circle glow green, and the knife shakes in your hand. "Quite an interesting time you've found yourself in, as well. Your queen shows her true colours, and the few voices who could speak against her are being silenced, one by one..."
You look down at your hand, at the ivory knife clutched in your fist. "...which is why I... *we*... wish to speak against her in turn. You know what to do." Kasdaye's voice falls silent as you contemplate the circle and the knife...
Oathday, 30th of Pharast, 4711 AR
The day arrives bearing dreary grey skies and pelting rain bouncing off of Korvosa's cobblestones. Whether as an ill portent or simple bad luck, no one can say.
The sound of raindrops falling on the roof of Mr. Scream's hovel is punctuated by the wet, ripping sounds of flesh being torn, followed by breathy sighs, moans, and prayer in a dark tongue.
It appears Laori has secluded herself in the artist's studio, and is... well, lashing herself with her own spiked chain. She's naked from the waist up, and her back is a bloodied mess as she whips herself. Her wounds seem to close as soon as they're made.
She doesn't appear to have noticed that she's making a bit of a racket.
Demitri is the first to wake. As he sees Laori in her intimate state, he turns around quickly. His eyes blink a few times. "Ahem. Are you ready to get moving?" Demitri says clearing his throat. "Also how do you heal like that? I didn't see any spellcasting."
Laori looks up from her prayers at Demitri. "Oh, definitely."
"It's just a little of my lord's grace that I'm using to protect me--" She starts, then abruptly stops as a look of concern and embarrassment flashes across her face.
"--oh, sorry, did I wake you up?"
"No, I'm usually up early. I don't sleep much." Demitri replies with his back still to her.
There's a sound of rattling chains as Laori pulls her hooked chainmail suit back on.
"Oh, good. Sometimes, I get a bit carried away during my ritual of prayer."