Sincerely,
Vencarlo Orisini of Old Korvosa
Blackjack, protector of Korvosa.
Ortik only glances at the first line to see who the note is addressed to before passing it on to Lyla. "This is for you," he says. "And unless I miss my guess, the bag's contents are as well."
I knew it!
Lyla takes the note from Ortik. She runs her eyes over Vencarlo's words and reads them aloud, the color fading from her cheeks as she goes from one line to the next. Much like Ortik, she can anticipate the message's ending before she finishes reading. Without noticing, Lyla finds herself sitting down, the letter hanging from between her knees. One by one, she looks at everyone in the room, waiting for them to say something, or maybe just hoping to see on their faces that same look of shock that she is sure decorates her own. "N-no way,", she stutters, shaking her head in disbelief.
The girl then stands up, takes the bag, and holds it up. "Do you think...?" She cannot wait any longer: she turns the bag inside out and spreads its contents on the floor.
As Lyla dumps the bag out, quite a few items scatter about on the floor...
--A black hooded cloak;
--Several black masks;
--A dozen masterwork daggers with a stylized 'B' engraved on their pommels;
--A black leather suit of armour, its joints and seams oiled to a fine finish;
--A pair of black leather boots, seemingly Elvish in design;
--A silver amulet with an image of a half-moon engraved on it;
--A pair of black leather gloves;
--An exquisitely-crafted mithral rapier.
All of which are sized for a Small creature.
"Huh. I guess Korvosa has a new hero. And a pretty good one at that."
Ortik smiles. "He's been planning this from the start, I suspect. He seemed to take an interest in you early on, Lyla. And honestly, I can think of no one better to take up the mantle." He picks up a black mask and hands it to her. "The city needs you...Blackjack."
Karri smirks at Lyla, "Told you the old man has a soft spot for you, kitten."
Nalun snickers You'll look dashing in the cloak at least.
The weight of all eyes on her is overwhelming. Lyla clutches her head an walks around in circles, clearly freaked out. "No no no no. This is... this is... NOT what I expected. Sure, I know I've been obsessing a bit about Blackjack, but what I said before, my plan... heck, that was gonna be us pretending to be him. But this...!" She halts. "I can't be Blackjack, can I? I'm just a lousy Little Lamm. What am I gonna do with this?", she asks picking up the rapier and staring at it with a funny look. "I'll probably poke myself more than anything," she goes on, pinching the tip of the blade. She then opens her arms and swings it absentmindedly, nicking Ortik's beard accidentally. "Plus, we're a team, and Blackjack is a solo job." She puts the sword down and lowers her chin, frowning. "I don't wanna be solo again," the girl whispers.
"You won't be. We'll still be a team. But you can be a symbol. A symbol of hope that people can rally around. A symbol that shows people that anyone can fight back against bullies and tyrants. Though you'll need some practice with that or you won't last very long as a symbol."
Ortik's eyes widen as he steps back from Lyla's blade, his beard shortened by an inch for his trouble. "Blackjack fights for the poor and downtrodden," Ortik says, smoothing out what's left of his facial hair. "Who better to follow in Vencarlo's footsteps than a former Little Lamm? And what would it say if Blackjack emerged from the shadows to join up with us to stand against Queen Ileosa? What the seneschal can do to rally the highborn, Blackjack can do to rally the rest."
Lyla lets her friends words sink in and nods. "Well, yes, maybe that could work... we do need to deal with Ileosa and..." She pauses abruptly "Wait, why is Vencarlo passing on the mantle?" She grows pale once again as the answer dawns on her. "He thinks he's gonna die."
Lyla starts gathering Blackjack's equipment in a hurry, stuffing it all back into the bag. "Quick, we have to find this Salvatore guy!" She runs to the stairs and turn on her heels, waiting for the group to follow. "Come on! We need to get to Vencarlo before it's too late!"
Demitri nods and quickly follows Lyla.
"Before we run off, we should probably destroy Vencarlo's confession. It can't come to any good if it's discovered." Oh, clever. Cover your tracks. We don't want to get caught!
Indeed. Nalun says to Karri. Always best to cover your tracks, there could be more of those Red Bug guys
Nalun grabs his stuff and follows.
"I put the letter in the bag. We can burn it later, but I wanna do it properly and calmly to avoid anyone using magic to put the pieces back together," Lyla explains to Karri while heading downstairs.
As the party leaves Vencarlo's home, they hear the sound of running footsteps. Emerging from a side street, his noble's garb tattered and stained almost beyond recognition and with a wild look in his eyes, is a vaguely familiar face from what feels like a long time ago.
"Oh, praise be to Abadar--it's you!" The sandy-haired nobleman practically falls to his knees in exhaustion before the party. "I saw the fire from a couple of blocks away and--I-I can't believe you're here." He looks at Demitri & the others with desperate eyes. "You remember me, yes? Amin of House Jolento?"
"I rarely forget a face," Ortik replies, approaching the nobleman. "I believe we got you out from under some nasty local color right after the King's death. What are you doing here in Old Korvosa?"
Amin sighs in relief. "I... ah, I was studying at Vencarlo's academy when the quarantine came down. I couldn't get back to South Shore and my home, and he was kind enough to let me stay as a guest in his academy."
"That stay didn't end well, however..."
"Tell us exactly what happened."
Amin swallows. "...several men in mantis costumes attacked the building."
"Vencarlo slew one, but we were forced to run because of how many there were. They burned the academy down around our ears as we ran." His hands start shaking. "I saw the fire here, and I thought they came back for him..."
"Close. We investigated and were greeted by them. One set a fire and tried to burn us down with the house."
Amin's face pales. "Oh, no... I knew it..."
"Who are those freaks, anyway? Who dresses up like a mantis to murder someone?"
"They're apparently called the Red Mantis," Ortik exposits. "What they lack in creativity, they make up for in lethality. You're just verifying what we suspected - someone's hired them to go after Vencarlo."
The distraught nobleman takes a breath. "And I fear I know why they went after him..."
"See, before the Mantis-freaks attacked, Vencarlo was meeting with someone else... some wild-haired, jittery, paint-stained fellow that would come over after dark for a chat or two. The last time the two of them met, they got into quite an argument--and I caught his name. Apparently, he was a local artist named Salvador Scream?" He looks at the party to see if the name rings any bells.
Demitri shakes his head. "I don't think so. What do you know about him?"
No coincidences. Only traps.
Though his paintings are at best somber and at worst outright unsettling, no one can deny that they bore a spark of mad genius. His home was on 140 Wave Street.
Amin shakes his head. "Not much. He was some local artist who made freaky-looking paintings. Apparently, he was a friend of the seneschal's, or something...?"
"Oh, wait, Scream? Paints forlorn vistas of gothic castles and corpse-choked battlefields? That Scream? I've seen his work - a few of the Ffolk purchased his works for their homes. Never understood the attraction, but to each their own. I think I know where the man lives."
"It's in the Old Dock, right? I'm not sure where, though." She turns to Amin. "Mister Amin, do you know what Vencarlo and Salvatore were arguing about?"
Amin shakes his head. "I didn't catch what they were arguing about, unfortunately--it was the only time I ever heard Vencarlo even raise his voice in anger, and..."
He sheepishly sighs. "...well, it rattled me."
"We will know when we get to this artist." But his work does sound delightful, no?
Lyla looks at Karri. "Let's get to him, then. Just one more question," Lyla says, turning her stare back to Amin. "Being a nobleman, you might know something about this: what is Glorio Arkona up to these days? Is it him who's pulling the strings here, or someone else in the family?" She takes a step forward and squints her eyes, sizing Amin up. "Are they on Ileosa's corner? Are ?"
Amin shakes his head to both questions. "Lord Arkona's been incredibly reclusive ever since the quarantine hit. I've no idea who's running things behind the scenes here, but he would be the best guess..."
"...and good heavens, no. I'm not with the Queen--if anything, her blasted quarantine is keeping me from escaping this hellhole and going home!"
"Right. In that case, I recommend you find a place to hide and lay low until the quarantine is over. My guess is that the people of Old Korvosa are not too fond of the noble houses right now, to say the least. Anyway, we're working on that, and we gotta hurry." She stretches her hand out to the nobleman. "Thanks for the info, and stay safe, Amin. Korsova is going to need the help of House Jolento very soon, and I hope you do the right thing when that time comes." She turns on her heels. "On to Salvador's house, folks! It seems like he's the link both to Vencarlo and to the seneschal."
Amin tentatively shakes Lyla's hand. "I'll... I'll try."
-------------
The party takes off into the streets of Old Korvosa once more, the sun beginning to set in the sky. The alleys and trash-ridden lanes of the quarantined island are bathed in a reddish-orange glow.
The walk to Salvador's hideout is uneventful, but upon arrival, the party is greeted by a pitiable sight. 140 Wave Street is little more than a leaning, decrepit building situated along the Narrows, not far from one of the now-destroyed wooden bridges that once connected Old Korvosa to the mainland. A large sinkhole is in front of the house, leading straight into the salty canal below.
Unfortunately, they're greeted by an even more unwelcome sight--a gang of desperate-looking men, disheveled, dirty and with a glint of madness in their starving eyes. Dressed in grimy suits of studded leather and bearing wicked-looking axes & shields, the men look up as the party approaches. The apparent leader of the bunch grins and steps forward.
"Well, LOOKIE HERE!" The man calls out, his axe gripped tightly in his trembling hand. "Imagine our luck--the man who broke the Blues has graced us with his presence at last." His voice oozes contempt and belligerence in equal measure. "A pity he's come to the wrong part of Old Korvosa, eh lads?"
"You should stand down and get out of our way. No reason for anyone to get hurt here. But you will if you stand in our way."
Nalun steps up beside Demitri, his hand on his Rapier.
Yeah. You DO remember what happened to those miscreants right? Cede the street, or lie in it. Nalun says, spitting on the ground for emphasis
Lyla rests one hand on her waist. The other coolly juggles a bomb up and down in the air. "What said," she chimes in.
"You want me to kill them?", Ortik asks with a grumble in his voice, hefting his warhammer to accentuate his point. "I mean, that's why you hired me, right?"
Her eyes flashing luminous green and her breath fogging before her, Karri lets Kasdaye speak through her.
"Blue or you, makes no difference. Your insides are all pinks and greys, and the flesh will ne picked by the same carrion birds as devoured the ones before my mistress! Be gone or let us rejoice in your flesh's tearing!"
The other thugs seem rather surprised (and spooked) by the forceful words of Demitri & company, but oddly enough, the leader doesn't seem to be at all fazed. "Oh, go scare somebody with something to lose. There's nothing you could do to us that'd be worse than living here."
"Emperor's real interested in seeing your head on a stake, Severin. Seems adequate compensation for all the hell you've put his people through. The rest of you?" He glares at the others with wild eyes. "Corpses or pets."
You think you hear the sound of someone praying in the house. The words appear to be magically charged...
Someone casting spells in the house.... Nalun says under his breath to Dimitri.
Alright then. Have it your way. Nalun says, out loud. And then he runs straight for the door!