Lyla's jaw drops upon watching Black Jack's big entrance. "No way!", she mumbles in astonishment as the sight brings back memories of the nights spent with the other Little Lamms fantasizing about being rescued by the masked vigilante. She barely reacts when Black Jack winks at her. "Wow. He's really real, like, for real?"
The girl watches the whole scene with excitement and threatens to bolt to chase Black Jack through the roofs, but just as she is about to leave, she hears Karralo's scream of pain and turns around to see Krojun breaking the criminal's knees. Her face turns red and twists in anger. "Hey!" She marches towards Krojun and stands between him and Karralo, telling Giggles to shut up and stay down. She lifts one finger and points it at Krojun.
"Энэ бол зүгээр биш шүү дээ? Та зүгээр л энэ тухай heck нь хүнийг сүйтгэсэн? Та юу гэж нэрлэдэг шударга ёс гэж байна уу? За яахав, эрүүдэн шүүх гэж нэрлэдэг бөгөөд энэ нь миний ээлж, том залуу болж байх талаар won`t! Энд Манай босс"—she points to Kroft—"Та нар намайг өгүүлбэр, итгэж ажиллах нь зөвшөөрөх тэр замаар гарч явж байна, бид өөрөө маш их нигүүлсэнгүй байх болно өөрсдийн шүүгч болсон юм. Та нар энэ хугацаанд үүнийг авахын тулд хүсэж л байгаа бол, цэвэрхэн хийж байна. Харгис хэрцгий таны хүүгээ буцааж авчрах болно."
She lowers her hand and takes a deep breath. "And you know what? If it were up to me, they'd be rotting in prison. Killing only leads to more and more killing, until we're all dead and there's no one left to dig the graves."
"Don't patronize me, whelp." Krojun doesn't appear to be moved by Lyla's tirade. "By the ways of the Sklar-Quah, he deserves no less."
Thousand-Bones shoots Krojun a glare, but says nothing.
Kroft, on the other hand... "That's enough. You have the man who killed your son--if you're going to do anything else with him, take it outside the city limits."
Krojun is silent for a bit before nodding at the two warriors holding Karralo. They haul him off onto one of their horses with him trying to endure the pain.
"Do you really think he will not attempt escape as we return to the Storval Plateau? I will *not* allow it, and I have seen to it that he will not have the chance." Krojun gets back on his massive horse and turns around. "Бид гэртээ унаж!"
Thousand-Bones remains behind as the Shoanti entourage rides off, his glare turning into a look of disappointment.
He turns to Lyla and the rest of the team. "Krojun is known for embracing his rage too freely at times. It is what has allowed him to rise as a champion of the Sklar-Quah--'the Sun Clan', in your tongue."
"It is rare for him to be spoken to in such a manner, young Lyla--I don't think he expected a halfling to call his actions out." He sighs. "I will do what I can to ease the murderer's suffering--it is the least I can do on behalf of my quah."
Giggles looks around, confused.
Brutality it seems, is not only a Korvosan thing... Nalun says and then to Giggles Best if you not speak.
"That took some serious stones, Lyla," Ortik says, impressed at her tirade. "Might not have been the smartest thing to say, but it needed to be said, regardless. Now, what do we do with the one that was left behind?" The dwarf turns his attention to Giggles, who has just begun to stir. "Jail for the rest of his life would suit me fine, since I'm not sure he's truly aware of his actions."
"Indeed it did take some stones. Jail would be for the best for the other one."
"Thanks... I guess. It's just that bullies tick me off", Lyla says to Ortik and Demitri, trying to cool he head. "As for Giggles... just let the hanging judge make that call. I'm getting tired of standing up for these scumbags", she complains, kicking some dust up in the air. "Let's take him back to the citadel and get some rest. It's been a looooong day."
Before leaving, she walks up to Thousand Bones. "I'm sorry if I offended your clan, but I have this unbelievably big mouth. See you around", she says with a nod of her head.
"It has been. Let's go home.
Karri is glad to see the horse's ass ride off. She does feel bad for the poor pony he's riding though. "You're right, Kitten. That is the kind of man my mentor would have employed." She turns to Kroft, "We eagerly await your summons, m'Lady."
She is pensive on the walk home, hoping that the evening offers less excitement than the day held.
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Thousand-Bones bows his head. "Once again, you have my thanks." He begins to ride off after the Shoanti entourage.
Field Marshal Kroft eyes Giggles with a venomous glare. "Indeed. I think Zena's going to be quite interested in hearing what you have to say." She rides up next to the cart and hauls Giggles out of it. "He'll be coming with me to the church of Abadar. I'll see what Zena wants to do with him."
With that, she rides off with Giggles alongside her, leaving the party to their own devices...
Sometime over the next few days, Demitri approaches Karri, Nadia in tow. "I was wondering, if you weren't busy, if you'd like to accompany us to see the good judge. I'd like to check in all the little ones. It's been a while."
Nalun tells the others Till we meet again, its been a pleasure. with a nod to the Dwarf Ortik who had saved his bacon earlier and Lyla, whom he had begun growing fond of in a "big brother" sort of way.
Nalun gives a grunt of Nice workin with ya. to Demitri, who he respects as a principled warrior and a stiff wave to Karri, who he warily regards as an asset.
Nalun heads off into the city to find a Priest of Abadar who might cast a spell for him.
Karri sees the lanky warrior off with a curt nod. Will he speak ill of what I have become?
"Ah, yes... Sure, I can go. If you need me to, I mean..." She stammers to Demitri's invitation. What can I say? Should we bring something to the children. Of course...make them trust you like you trusted your dear mentor... Kasdaye just laughs at her indignation.
"Yes, Demitri, I will come with you. When should we leave?"
In the coming month, things change in Korvosa--notably, for the better. With Gaedren Lamm dead and Devargo Barvasi behind bars, Korvosa's street gangs come under heavy pressure from the Guard. Driven by Field Marshal Kroft and the examples set by the party, it isn't long before the remnants of Korvosa's gangs are forced to relocate to the hive of Old Korvosa. Though the Guard suffers several casualties, the city's citizens begin to place their trust back where many would claim it belongs--in the Guard and what it stands for.
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Nadia fidgets when she looks up at Karri, glancing between her and her father. She looks like she has something to tell him...
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Your search for a priest of Abadar that is powerful enough to get a message out to Trinia leads you to the Grand Vault of Abadar, a a meticulously well-kept structure of white marble and gleaming bronze friezes in North Point. People from all walks of life pass you by as you walk up the temple's marble steps, from nobles to merchants to working-class men and women.
The temple itself is quite spacious, and clearly serves a second purpose as the city's bank--many acolytes and priests are busy helping citizens with their banking needs. One of them, a young man who can't be older than 20, steps forward to assist you.
"Yes? May I help you?"
Karri knows what it is like to want to speak, but afraidmof what someone might think. "If you two will excuse me, I woild like to use a privy."
"I'd like you to. If you're free now, we can go." Demitri notices his daughter's fidgeting. Another father-daughter talk was in order it seemed.
Nadia looks down at her feet briefly before digging around in her pockets. "Um... Daddy, I meant to tell you this sooner, but you were busy--a lady came by yesterday."
She looks up at you. "She said she wanted to thank you for saving her." She holds up a wand made of birch wood and a sealed letter.
"Really now?" Demitri accepts the letter and wand and opens the letter to read it.
The letter reads as follows:
I hope this letter finds you well--I wasn't sure you'd be interested in hearing from me again. I didn't get the chance to properly thank you for saving me back in that derro hole, and considering how chummy you are with the Guard I wasn't sure you'd accept this.
The whole derro thing has convinced me to stick with my day job. Nash was quite willing to tell the Cerulean Society how much of a washout I am--well, that's the way HE said it. All I heard was 'You won't have to perform dangerous thieving jobs that could result in you being experimented on by mad mages and his cronies anymore! Hooray for you!'
Anyway, I wanted you to have this. It's a wand I was able to nick from Rolth's home before he caught us.
Please don't ask how I was able to keep it.
Sincerely,
Tiora Bluetide
Demitri chuckles as he reads the note. "Thank you, little one. When Karri gets back, we'll go see the judge and all the other kids."
Nalun gives a small bow to the man Greetings Vault Keeper. I have a request. Might one of your order send a discrete message to someone dear to me? They are in Absalom. I will donate to the Church of course.
It's astounding how quickly the mess piles up in the group's shared domicile, and Ortik spends a few days cleaning everything. "I hope it's to your liking, Madame," he says aloud, unsure if the Varisian ghost is even listening. "I swear, it's somehow harder to keep this place tidy without the children here. How is that even possible?"
After the house is clean, though, he sets his sights to returning to the Forgottenfolk, and speaking with the Old Man. There were things that needed attending to, and the Folk might have the answers he needs.
The acolyte bows. "Very well. Follow me, if you please."
The man straightens himself up and leads you into a separate chapel from the bank floor. Several priests pass the two of you by, escorting various well-dressed people about.
The chapel of Abadar is at once lavish and spartan in its furnishings--stained glass windows with images depicting the Master of the First Vault line the walls, letting sunlight shine down on an oaken altar draped in a golden cloth. Standing before the altar is a woman clad in white robes with a golden trim, with a gold half-cloak hanging off her shoulders. Her hair is dark, and has streaks of grey running through it.
"Senior Arbiter? This man wishes to avail himself of Abadar's services." The acolyte says, bowing. The woman turns, looking upon you with hardened grey eyes. You notice she is wearing a necklace made of gold links, upon which rests a golden key.
"...leave us, Acolyte. Return to your duties." She waves him off and he leaves.
"So, what is it you wish of me, petitioner?"
Your question is met with silence. Either Zellara is no longer in the house, or she is just as puzzled as you are.
The trip to the Forgottenfolk commune is uneventful, for once. You pass a couple of patrols on the way to the commune--unlike the other times you've seen them, these ones are more alert and intent on actually doing their jobs.
The streets of the commune are emptier than they normally are--there's a few kids playing here and there, but otherwise there's no one else around. Reaching the commune's meeting hall, you see the Old Man sitting before the speaker's podium in the back. He has a troubled look on his face...
The month passes in a blur. After you've gotten everything you can from Vreeg's spellbook, it was oddly easy to find a buyer for it. The Acadamae's students are always looking for an edge over their classmates, and a derro's spellbook, to them, has more value than most in that regard.
Finding buyers for the other bits of loot you found is easy enough, but finding information on the Fairwoods family has proven to be more of a challenge. Searching though crew manifests and passenger lists (mostly when no one was looking) has turned up nothing, so it's highly unlikely they've left Korvosa recently.
Eventually, you find a lead.
You've received a tip that there is a family of halflings that lives across the Jeggare river that matches the description you've given. The district they live in doesn't have a name, and it's so far out of the way that both Korvosa's criminals and guard patrols don't go out there often. Their home is across the North Bridge out of North Point.
Ortik's a bit surprised at the lack of people on the streets. He pushes open the meeting hall doors, and notices the worry lines on the Old Man's face. "I've seen that look before, friend," he says, slowly approaching. "If I'd known you needed a palaver, I'd have brought a bottle of spirits to share. Still, I can lend an ear, and hopefully a pair of hands. What have I missed while helping Korvosa's finest?"
Nalun bows low I wish a message sent via magical means. And a response taken, if one is sent. I will donate to the Church of the Vault for such a service.
Hartleby looks up at you as you approach. "Oh... Ortik, you didn't miss too much, I'm glad to say." He chuckles. It's not a mirthful sound.
"I've just been having... difficulties sleeping." His troubled demeanour reasserts itself. "I feel that a storm is coming..."
Once you've reunited, it's off to visit Judge Zenderholm.
Korvosa's streets are looking cleaner and brighter today than they have been in a long time. Walking through North Point, you both see that the Korvosan Guard has been making good progress in taking their jobs seriously: several patrols pass you by as you approach the Bank of Abadar, each of them looking alert and serious. Nadia clings to Demitri's hand as you walk, eying the streets around her with more than a little fear.
You ascend the marble steps of the Bank, and are greeted by the sight of countless people busily hurrying about. The Bank is doing brisk business today.
You notice a white-robed acolyte (a young man of no more than 20 winters) hurrying to get back to the grand banking floor from a different room. He looks over at the three of you and approaches.
"Hello petitioners, and welcome to the Grand Vault of Abadar. How may we assist you today?" He asks, slightly out of breath.
Senior Arbiter Zenderholm listens to your request.
"While I am capable of sending a message, sir, I must ask: to whom am I sending this message?" She folds her arms in her robes and arches an eyebrow.
The woman's name is Elise, she is blonde and... and currently should be residing somewhere in Absalom.
Nalun gives a description of Trinia Sabor, but calls her a name he makes up on the fly.
The Message should say "Elise, this is Nalun. Are you ok, if you need anything send word when you can."
"Is Judge Zenderholm free? We'd like to speak to her."
Zenderholm listens to your description of 'Elise' with an impassive look on her face. "Very well then. A casting of sending will cost you 360 Sails." She reveals a violet cloth pouch, closed with a gold-coloured thread, and opens it.
The acolyte nods. "Senior Arbiter Zenderholm is currently busy at the moment, but I can show you where she currently is. Please, follow me."
He leads the three of you away from the bank floor and down another hallway. Nadia nearly bumps into a couple of chatty priests making the rounds.
The chapel the acolyte leads you to is well-lit with stained glass windows, each of them depicting Abadar performing various city-related functions, ranging from public speaking to accounting to serving as a judge. There are several rows of modest wooden pews for churchgoers to sit on, and an altar draped in a golden cloth.
Judge Zenderholm is here, sure enough. And, interestingly enough, Nalun is here as well. They look like they're in the middle of something.
Ortik chuckles darkly to himself. "When isn't there a storm coming?", he muses, taking a seat next to the Old Man. "A very good friend of mine once said 'life is what happens between plans'. Prepare for what you can, and help your neighbors as you would yourself. Whatever storm you feel in your bones, we'll all get through it together."
"As it happens, I'm glad I caught you here by yourself," he says, looking around to make sure they're alone. "I wasn't sure if you'd heard the rumors yet, but I wanted to let you know they're true. It's Blackjack. He's back."
Nalun deposits the coins into the cloth sack and waits to see if the message is delivered and returned.
"It is probably no coincidence that he is here, too." Karri whispers to Demitri. Now to find out why?
"Perhaps." Demitri will wait patiently until the pair are done.
Judge Zenderholm pockets the money and settles behind the altar, gripping her holy symbol. "The casting time will take 10 minutes--I hope you don't object to waiting." She says before bowing her head.
Her holy symbol starts glowing as she begins to pray...
The Old Man arches an eyebrow in surprise. "Really now?" He stretches a leg out and shakes it, trying to work the kinks out of it. "He had been absent for so long, I thought he decided to hang up the cape for good."
"But... I'm beginning to fear that even his heroics won't be enough in the days to come." His eyes take on a faraway look. "Tell me, my student, have you been experiencing... visions, as of late?"
Nalun nods and waits...
Ortik had further things to ask about Blackjack, but they immediately took a backseat to Hartleby's revelation. "No...no, I can't say that I have. I take it the city's been whispering to you? What does she say?" The dwarf was suddenly all ears - Old Man Hartleby had mentioned this gift before. Old Korvosa rarely speaks to me, and never when questioned, but when she does, I listen. Ortik had never been privy to the conversations between his mentor and the city, but he was as rapt as a young child listening to a masterful storyteller.
The judge's eyes snap open, glowing blue.
"For Elise: Elise, this is Nalun. Are you OK? If you need anything, send word when you can." Her voice echoes in the chapel, empowered by her god.
There is a silence as she bows her head. When she raises her head again, her eyes are glowing once again.
"Nalun, I miss you. I'm settled in just fine. Got myself a painting gig for now. Client says he's a Pathfinder. Stay safe. Love you."
Her eyes stop glowing and she lets go of her holy symbol.
"So, will that be all?"
Nalun gives a stupid grin to Zenobia Yes! Thank you mistress! and he doesn't wipe the dumb grin off his face as he leaves the Temple.
"What was that about? Guess we'll find out later." Demitri asks no one in particular as Nalun dashes past them without noticing. He then nods to the good Judge. "Do you have a moment?"
Lyla sits quietly in her room, staring at the formula book. She reads through the formulae, studying the new recipes she's written down, but cannot concentrate on the words, symbols and numbers as her mind keeps going back to the conversation with the drunken old sailor at the docks. His words echo in her head: "Anyway, not sure about the name, Fairwoods, but yeah, these folks lost a little girl a while back. Things went sour for them from then on, the father tried to track the kid down and ran into serious problems with some gang. Cost him his friends, job and then some other stuff, too... had to move into hiding with his family, all the way across the North Bridge—really bad neighborhood, if you ask me. That was quite some time ago, though. Haven't heard of him in a couple of years. A pity, used to be a fine lad, before all that stuff happened. But... why do you ask? Got some score to settle? Nah—I don't wanna know, this whole thing is nothing but trouble. So... are you gonna drink that?"
Some score to settle... well, not exactly. She closes her book and stares out the window for a few minutes, and then jumps off the bed and rushes out to the streets—not without shouting a warning to Althea, of course. "Going out, don't wait me for dinner!" On her way out of the Shingles, she stops to buy some fruits, and walks to Zellara's home chewing on a juicy apple. From the corner, she stares at the house thinking about Demitri's words, remembering his advice to come to them when she needed help instead of trying to do everything alone. She notices how much of an effort this is for her, coming here to reach out for them; her impulse is to turn around and walk away, deal with it by herself. She fights the urge and enters the house. "Hey, fellas! Helloooo. Anyone here?"
Realizing the house is empty, she sits down and sighs heavily. Lyla reaches for Zellara's deck and places it on the table; looking up, the girl calls out to the ghost harrower. "Hmmm... madam Z? I... something's come up and I'm not quite sure what to do about it. It's... it could be my family, or not. Thing is, now that I have a lead... not sure if I really wanna find them. I mean, I don't even remember them. I have another life now. What's the point?"
She draws a card from the deck and places it face up in front of her.
"You here?"
"No...no, I can't say that I have. I take it the city's been whispering to you? What does she say?"
"Well, she doesn't so much say anything to me, so much as she shows me." Hartleby wrinkles his nose.
"You remember when I spoke of the dream I had about crows, yes?" He clasps his hands together. "It came to me again, even more clearly than before." He looks at his feet.
"Sometimes, I feel that the 'gift' of foresight is... more of a burden." Hartleby looks back up at you. "But, perhaps it's merely a sign of my age catching up to me."
Judge Zenderholm folds her arms back into her robes as the three of you approach her. "I do, in fact. What business do you have here, Mr. Severin?"