Grigor said here, in an hour. Sounds like at least Sylas and Thalachi are going to a nearby tavern.
"tavern, indeed."
Theodosia shrugs and signs the contract. "Just so we have an understanding, do not ask me to scratch your back eef you don't feel the need to scratch mine. My claws are very sharp, I hope you understand."
Theodosia scoffs at Sylas's mention of a tavern. "No, no, I don't think so. To dine with you fine folk would be nothing less than a pretty pleasure, I am sure, yet I'm afraid tavern food is hardly to my tastes. I will meet here again, at nightfall. Yes, that ees agreeable."
Therie nods as Grigor. "One hour then. I too will leave you to meet your acquintance on your own, I shall see you back here at the appointed time."
Therie heads home, gathers the rest of her supplies, and eats quickly before heading back to the manor to meet the group.
Thalachi arrives, somewhat in a hurry. His meal having taken longer than anticipated coupled with his desire not to be late, he barely makes it on time.
Therie nods as Grigor. "One hour then. I too will leave you to meet your acquintance on your own, I shall see you back here at the appointed time."
He finds Grigor swigging from a flask with a half eaten bread roll stuffed into a rough script on his belt.
Nice hustle.
"food took longer than expected, but who knows when the next warm meal will be?"
Therie arrives at the meeting spot, sated and well equipped. "I trust you know what you are doing with this contact of yours. I feel ill at ease leaving a monster such as this loose for any length of time."
"Measure twice, cut once" as the saying goes. We do this right instead of charging about in a fuss? We'll have his head first time out. He waves for the party to follow.
He sets off for the poor district at a brisk pace, mentally counting down the pubs that he could also canvas for information.
Theodosia arrives at the building's front, leaning on the facade. Once everyone's arrived, she follows Grigor, keeping her hands in her pockets.
She gives him a sweet smile. "Yes, I am sure. Thees will be easy pickings. A creature from the depths of the abyss, whose butter knife can slit a man's lungs out without him even realizing it and who can leap a building in a single bound... ees easy. Who is thees contact of yours?"
Loch appears, and more armed than he was before. In addition to the kukri at his side, the gnome now carries both a hammer and a blade, each near as large as him, on his back. He has a grim look about him, either determination or foreboding; it is hard to tell. When he arrives at the rest of the group, he takes a position amongst them. Not rising past most of their knees, he raises his chin and lets his eyes move from one face to another as they speak. He doesn't say much to anyone or respond to their musings, but mutters things under his breath to himself all the while. When they set off, he does as well. Despite his small stature, Loch has no trouble in keeping up with the strides of the larger folk. He takes car to position himself a bit off to the side of the group, and towards the back, head darting left, right, and behind as they move, peering down every alley.
Theodosia arrives at the building's front, leaning on the facade. Once everyone's arrived, she follows Grigor, keeping her hands in her pockets.
She gives him a sweet smile. "Yes, I am sure. Thees will be easy pickings. A creature from the depths of the abyss, whose butter knife can slit a man's lungs out without him even realizing it and who can leap a building in a single bound... ees easy. Who is thees contact of yours?"
Vasily. He's a petty thief who lingers in major taverns at night looking for cheap work for hire, or someone with a large purse despite their heavy night drinking. Apart from that? He's not a bad fellow and what I consider to be an honest villain.
Thalachi moves with the group, sticking towards the center of their party of bruisers.
Honest villian? Is evil not evil? Therie contemplates Grigor's description of their contact as they head towards the taverns, walking near the back of the group.
Sylas shows up at the meeting point, slightly intoxicated from his visit to the tavern. Leaning against a building, pipe in hand, he quietly puffs. Until Vasily is brought up.
"Vasily, eh? He'ssh not a baad sort at all. Sstand up fellow if I've ever had a drink with one." Sylas slurs his words slightly, but his eyes are sharp and searching the growing darkness.
With matters settled, you move en masse to The Shingles, a precarious and unsettling unsturdy-looking neighborhood built atop Old Korvosa. The architecture catches your eyes first. Shacks and proper buildings set atop the roofs, stacked one on top of another, leaving no stable 'ground' level to the complex, unofficial district. Stairs, ramps, and ladders bring you up and down, and not all of them are very sturdily built. Only slghtly second to the startling layout is just how destitute the area is. Beggars lean in makeshift alleyways, thugs look for easy targets to hold up, and most of the people walking the unconventional streets are some of the most visibly poor folk in the city. Children in rags run along the planks between blocks and along ledges deftly, racing each other in their dangerous game.
Your destination is Twitcher's, the only place in all of this hastily constructed district with a fixed position. The most popular alehouse in the area, it sits as the only constant in the rooftop chaos. The area around it is brightly lit and from quite an impressive distance away you can hear the revelry already beginning before the sun has even fully set. Inside, you find people drinking and laughing. A gnome plays accordion atop an extra tall stool with a feathered cap by his side, upturned for coin to be tossed in. Orcs and lowlifes share drinks and most of the patrons have very visible weapons on their persons to deter pickpockets, not that it stops one sandy-haired human, who sits in the corner sizing up the bulges of peoples' coin purses from afar, wondering who would make the best marks once they slurred demands for another round into the table.
Grigor changes subtly as he enters the place. He stalks like he is on his way to kick someone in the throat and his face is hard. His eyes sweep the room, looking for active threats rather than the passive ones that are all throughout the place.
He stomps up to Vasily but allows a grim smile to crease his features.
Ho! Vasily you villain!, the ex-guardsman greets him. What are you drinking? My friends and I feel like some colourful stories to go with our cups and you're just the man to keep us entertained...
Therie grows visibily concerned as they head further into the shingles, each passing thug pulling on her sense of duty to correct the wrongs of this place.
What we are doing is more important. This monster is a murderer, he must take precedence.
Therie follows closely behind Grigor, the taint of Twitcher's painful to her sensibilities. She takes a couple of steadying breaths, biting her lower lip in concern. She feels one of her incisors open up a small wound in her lip, blood slowly starting to trickle into her mouth.
Thalachi moves with the group, his mannerisms carefully calculated to project confidence and puissance of arms in order to dissuade any violence.
Entering Twitcher's, a great unease falls upon Loch and he immediately backs up flat against a wall. His eyes dart fervently from patron to patron, and he is soon quite certain that at least most of them were out to get something from him. After several seconds of watching, he becomes a bit calmer, and when no one rushes forward to attack him, he swallows deep and walks forward as if nothing had ever overcome him. He moves up into the shadows of his companions and glares intently at Vasily. "Yes...tell us what you know of the dark one," he whispers, not exactly to anyone but himself.
Therie detects no great evils lingering in the alehouse.
Vasily smiles as Grigor comes to him, a toothy, satisfied grin. "Well, my friend," he says, voice slurred a little, "You have indeed come to the right man. Whatever information you need, I shall do my best to provide." He cleared his throat. "For the cost of a drink, of course." The vague whispers of the gnome, paired with his odd gaze and a tinge of realization, makes his smile weaken. His eyes take a closer assessment of Grigor's companions, and his expression sours altogether. "You're in peculiar company this evening."
New associates, he says dismissively.
He beckons to the barman with the best signal there is, by waving a gold coin.
Sooooo. Whats this about a jumping knifeman I hear about?
"Jumping knifeman? You come walking in with Paladins and asking about monsters nobody's sure really exist... You repaying a debt or something?" He takes a long pull of his drink. "Well, if you want to believe the insane and the drunk, it's a small creature with goat horns who can jump a hundred feet in a single stride, can breathe fire, teleport around everywhere, has a knife that opens a portal to the Plane of Shadow..." Rolling his eyes, he stops to down the rest of his drink before the one Grigor ordered comes by. "There's a lot going around about it right now, and it's hard to tell who's being serious. The people who seem genuinely afraid after encountering it don't want to talk, and the people who make up all these details usually claim they almost killed it before it disappeared in a puff of smoke and that's a crock."
I think a lot of people are thinking there is something in it... enough to get some attention - mine too. I imagine these gentles will have a question or three of their own but when they are finished? Who do we need to talk to for something a bit more first hand with a local flavour?
"Any exact sightings? Or survivors we might talk to there Vasily?" Sylas asks while tapping his pipe and pinching some more fine tabac into the bowl. Striking it up with a match, the smoky haze hangs about the group's head in the ill lit corner of the tavern.
"Nobody knows where he hides out, but word is, he looks for groups or people making a lot of noise. Maybe it gets his attention easier and he picks his victims by it. He hasn't left any survivors, and few trustworthy witnesses willing to talk. He's been real effective at making The Shingles clam up and keep quiet lately. I don't know any names to give you."
"Well, making noise shouldn't be too hard."
"Yes, but can't you say eef there was any specific area where most of the attacks occurred? Do you have nothing but rumors and supposition?"
"Yes, but can't you say eef there was any specific area where most of the attacks occurred? Do you have nothing but rumors and supposition?"
My friend here has a point. Normally you're better than this. Has someone been in your ear?
Satisfied that there is no great threat within the tavern, Therie walks over to Vasily with the rest of the group, and listen to the peculiar gnome.
"If noise is all we need to make this thing come to us, then that should be simple enough. Let us get out there and put an end to this evil." Therie comments, tipping her head to the gnome. "Your insight has been most welcome."
His eyes look around, and he shakes his head. "I told you, nobody's talking. There's so much going on in the city, and The Shingles have it worst of all. The guard doesn't come up here, and unless you have friends, nobody's looking out for you. People just keep their eyes down and their mouths shut around here now. Information is drying up because nobody wants to be overheard. You can gang up on some bandits if they get too aggressive, but nobody knows how to kill a vampire if it decides you'd make a nice snack. I'm sorry I don't have more."
Loch remains quiet as Vasily and the others converse, but he closes his eyes intermittently and his lids flutter when he does. At some points he tightens his lips and shakes his head, and every minute or so he glances behind him to make sure no one is creeping up on him. For the rest of the time he stared intently at Vasily and watches him for any signs of bluffs, falsehoods, or other misleads, though when the others seemingly decide to go out and make noise to get the enemy's attention, Loch silently agrees that it is the most reasonable plan.
Sense Motive:
Grigors previous engagements with Vasily seems to have engendered a feeling of trust, however misplaced, with the cutpurse.
"No one knows how to kill a vampire? I take it you have not heard of the House Tremeris" he says haughtily. As he speaks, he reaches into his pack to retrieve his vampire slayer's kit, replete with the seal of his House on it.
"Bragging will not help us kill this evil Thalachi and is wasting valuable time we need to find this mosnter." Therie scolds, shaking her head.
"Thank you again for your time Vasily. Now let's go find us a monster." She adds turning back to the gnome with a wicked grin, her long incisors visible through her open lips.
Therie turns and begins to walk out of Twitcher's pulling her shield from its resting place on her back as she exits. Once outside Therie looks around trying to determine the best course to start the search through the shingles.
Lich and Grigor gain the impression that Vasily is being truthful about the extent of his knowledge and the general atmosphere of fear present in the rooftop community.
"And I'm sure your ability to kill vampires will provide a great comfort to the people whose families have already been torn apart by them," he says dryly. "I'm sorry Grigor; usually I could give you more, but only drunken braggarts are talking about this creature, and their tales grow more fanciful every time. They're clearly liars, and I don't want to send you off with a head full of nonsense in mind."
"I merely wanted to ensure that he knows I am serious about cleansing this evil."
Grigor lays another 5 gold coins on the table.
The information isn't worth the coin but your honesty is. My thanks.
He turns to the others.
Well, what say you we go make some noise in the streets? Laughter, singing and so forth?
Thalachi puts his kit away.
Vasily gives Gregor a small, thankful nod as he takes the coins and returns to his drink, eyes moving to scan the tavern for anyone who may have been watching him.
The Ustalav waves to order another round of drinks.
I say we play the part of loud rowdy happy drunks. Allow me to get 'In Character'.
Theodosia shrugs at the man's inability to tell them more and maneuvers over to the bar, not even looking at the bartender or any of the drinks.
"Yes, I suppose, given we have no idea where the thing is, what eet wants, who eet will attack and what seems to prompt the bastard, we will have to lure it ourselves, not that eet will be easy or even likely given how many people are crammed into this pit and the labyrinth of its construction."
She begins tapping her long, sharp nails on the bar's counter, thinking aloud. "Still, eef we do this stupid thing, then we may as well play it smart. Best not to have all of us on the ground at once. Some of us, and I elect myself, should stay on the roofs and walkways. You keep your weapons hidden, make yourselves look like easy targets and then we flank and ambush eet.
Pfft," she blows a few stray strands of gray hair from in front of her eyes. "Seeing as we have no other leads to go on, it may be our best bet, though I must say, eef we plan on getting drunk and singing along in alleyways for more than just one night, I may as well go back to my regular day to day routine for all the good we'll be doing."
Therie looks back to Grigor ordering another round of drinks and shakes her head. "How do you propose to fight this thing while your intoxicated? We are not here to have drinks and lounge around. Why must you consume drink in order to make noise?"
"The creature also hasn't attacked this bar before... If it was going it would have already done so, so staying here is nigh useless to our mission. If you want to pretend to be drunk, be my guest, but I'm not going to have a actual drunkard watching my back with a killer on the loose." Therie chastises.
"Now come on. Let's go find us a monster."
She looks over at Theodosia and nods. "Good idea to have someone looking over the larger group. Are you confident that you won't be in any danger though if you're on the roofs? It will be difficult for us to come to your aid if the monster chooses to target you."
Loch walks in a circle around the rest of his new companions as they discuss, tapping a finger against his chin. "This one does not drink, no...They do not like it, and it makes Them loud. I am not so good at pretending, nor rackets. If one is to prowl the roofs, I will stay to shadows and alleys, yes...this is where I am best. You four can make the group and the noise. Besides, maybe six would dissuade the dark one, but maybe not four, yes?"
Grigor shakes his head.
Drunk? Phah! It would take some serious drinking to get me drunk milksops. He guns down a shot and then picks up a beer but sloshes some of it on his clothing.
This thing is attracted to noise, to laughter and it wants to make an impression - it wants fear.
You've got to LOOK like prey and you have to SMELL like prey. Predators attack the weak, the unprepared. I've been hunting criminals of all stripes for years. Don't tell me that looking the part doesn't draw them out.
With a sudden movement he then splashes of the ale tankard on Therie and Thalachi.
And now you smell the part too. Loch will mind the alley and Theodosia the roof tops.
He turns to Loch and Theodosia. You spot any crossroads near here we could use?
Thalachi looks angry for a second, then calms down. He's probably right.
"Let's be on our way." Sylas sighs, heading for the door.