From her hidden vantage, tucked away around the corner, the halfling watches as her allies force the door open and begin to engage the enemies looming nearby. She watches with a growing sense of panic as Malgrim and Arimar fight the dexterous and quick moving foes. She takes a deep breath, suppressing her fear and forcing the anxiety to become resolve in order to help her friends.
The halfling steps forward, moving from behind the corner and approaching a few paces down the hall. As her feet carry her, Gwendolyn raises up her violin and begins to play, launching an inspiring melody into the air, the rising song begins to grow with each passing moment in tempo and volume.
As the sweet melodies of Gwen counter with the rhythmic chanting of the Handmaiden, the second floor has come alive with music. All the combatants can feel a heightened sense of purpose as the respective bards inspire their allies.
From behind the Handmaiden, Benaiah can hear words spoken in the arcane language. Suddenly, the still invisible Barbalchemist is buffeted by a strong force slamming into his chest. The hand does no damage to him, but Benaiah can feel that should he try to move, the hand will resist him from doing so.
The Handmaiden laughs. "And you thought poor me was all alone and defensively. Fools."
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Benaiah grins at the smug handmaiden, so confident in her position and defenses. He pushes against the arcane force, springing confidently across the room despite the resistance. She, of course, sees none of this in his invisible form.
What she does see, however, is the sight of his clawed hand, balled up in a fist appearing out of thin air, far to late for her to react.
for
"I said YIELD!" he screams, spittle flying from his distended maw, his eyes red with rage.
Benaiah rushes forward abandoning his defensive posture and invisibility. Striking Out, his blow knocks the Hadmaiden back with its ferocity. Her condescending expression is quickly replaced by a fierce growl.
While the battle rages inside Mistress Lanvi's office, the lone knave sizes up Arimar. Seeing that he has little chance against two armed opponents, he tries to even the playing field a bit more. His rapier flicks toward the Paladin's Falchion.
The falchion clatters to the ground.
Spellcraft to identify spell cast
Accepting the beating he knows he'll get, Arimar bends down and picks up his weapon before slicing upwards at the canny knave.
"Nice strategy, too bad you're fighting for the wrong side," Arimar notes, "It's not too late to surrender!"
As the Paladin bends down to retrieve his weapon, the knave darts out with a quick strike.
The knave's rapier pierces Arimar in the shoulder, drawing blood. But the healing power of Sarenrae quickly binds if not altogether staunches the wound.
Standing back up, the paladin wacks the knave with the flat of the blade, staggering him for the moment.
Moving back into Lanvi's office, the Handmaiden quickly regains her composure. She lithely steps back from her desk and drops a stick of creamy butter. Underneath Benaiah a huge grease spot emerges.
Benaiah struggles to keep his balance, but is able to do so.
"You don't have to keep fighting, you know," Arimar tells the man, "No-one likes to be on the side of the losers. Put down your arms and leave this house and there will be no recriminations."
If I weren't dulling my blade's edge, I might have a better chance of convincing him. Defeat and death is so much more of a deterrent than defeat and unconsciousness. I thought Urgathoa's tests were hard... but Sweet Sarenrae is it difficult to live a just life in the face of adversity!
Malgrim grimaces as the guard fights on, muttering, "It did not have to be this way." He gathers up a geokinetic force, balling up a boulder in his hand the size of the guards torso in his hand, bringing it down with a reverberating crash!
Now if only he would stop stabbing back and let us deal with the real threat.
Gwendolyn reaches her position at the opening of the hallway, and can see her companions fighting with the one foe still standing. Without stopping her motion, her feet begin to carry her closer to Arimar and Malgrim, especially after seeing the injuries inflicted by the graceful opponents. As she steps closer the melody cast by her violin begins to morph without her even realizing it, altering from a rising temptest of inspiring notes to a somber, forlorn dirge. The panicked and wrenching song now rising above the din of the battle is the outward manifestation of her own inner fear for the safety of her friends.
Crossing behind the opening of the room left by the once invisible form of Benaiah, she can only hope that moving to aid Malgrim first will not in turn sacrifice her lone friend's safety as he squares off against their true foe.
The hobgoblin's boulder is too much for the knave to handle after the paladin blustering attack and he falls unconscious to the ground.
Once again a disembodied voice comes out from somewhere in the room. As Benaiah begins to try and move his limbs, he finds that he cannot. As he tries to moves his legs, he find that he cannot. He is paralyzed to the spot.
"Gwen, get that invisible caster! Haven't you got some glitter you can throw?" Arimar whispers over the mesaage, rushing towards the room as fast as he can, which in his new armor is not very fast.
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Benaiah freezes for half a moment, watching his visible target begin to smile smugly. With a roar of his own glee, he breaks through the arcane paralytic force. "You aren't strong enough!" he yells, spittle once again flying from his maw and fire from his eyes. "I am too strong for you!"
Benaiah spreads his long arms out wide to his sides, splaying his clawed fingers wide. Quickly, but not forcefully, he brings his hands together like he is trying to scoop up a package. His leathery skin and fingers clasp the handmaiden's shoulders as he tries to grab hold.
Benaiah's hands grab the upstart woman firmly, and to her dismay she cannot wiggle free yet. His laughter rings out, echoing in the room as he swings her close to him, around the desk.
"Hahahahah! You should have cast grease on your self, little snake. " he screams in her face, his fetid breath washing over her face, his nose only inches from hers as her feet barely touch the floor in his strong grip.
Gwendolyn hears the words of Arimar flood into her ears, as if he were poised beside her. As the paladin rushes into the room to aid Benaiah, the bard replies quickly in a hushed whisper, activating the spell.
"I'm running out of my ability to cast that spell..." she calls in reply. "But I've got one left in me..."
"I just don't know where to throw the spell... we need to pinpoint the prick!"
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Benaiah, grabbing the Handmiden does his best to indicate exactly where the hidden adversary is that has been casting so many spells at them.
The Handmaiden is terrified. She is securely held by a man who is is afraid of, that now is huge and beasital in appearances.
She tries her best to break free of the grapple knowing she can't.
Rip the wench in half! How dare she strike me... US! How dare she try to lay hands on...
At once the halfling abandons her plan to heal Malgrim, and turns quickly, following the paladin into the room. From the commotion inside, Gwendolyn has only a vague idea where their hidden foe lies in wait and scans the seemingly unoccupied corner in vain. While her eyes search for sight of her target without result, her fingers continue to gracefully pull and press the bow wildly against the singing strings. The anxious and slightly off putting melody continues to rise and fill the room, mirroring her inner concerns that an unseen threat still lurks about.
Using the guidance of Benaiah, the halfling thrusts one hand forward and releases a spell into the corner she hopes conceals their last remaining foe.
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As Gwen moves into the room, she lets fly with a burst of glittering dust. A creature of similar size as Gwen is coating in the substance, marking her for all to see.
The now blinded creature can be heard clearly as well as she can be seen. "You will pay for that. You will all pay for that."
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With a briefly aplogetic look at the downed guards, Malgrim steps over their bodies towards where he hears the continued strains of shouting and combat. Taking a brief look at the situation, Malgrim quickly surmises that the Handmaided is well in-hand and that the small foe is the largest threat. Not having time to center himself or get in range for a proper shot, Malgrim whirls around and gathers a boulder fueled by his own vitality and into his hand, flinging it as hard and as far as he can.
His stony eyes blaze as he surveys his handywork and intones, "This is the currency by which we will pay."
Malgrim sends a boulder into the small creature, smashing into her. She utters a low growl.
"Handmaiden, it was not meant to be. You are on your own."
With that she once again begins to chant in the arcane language before disappearing from sight.
The Handmaiden looks up at Benaiah, and then at the next closest Companion, Arimar. ""
Arimar smiles at Benaiah and advances on the handmaiden, his weapon drawn. "He'll let you go when you instruct your mercenaries and members House Versade to get out of the house," Arimar adds, "And best be quick about it, we don't want any blood shed. Hepec and his men have the house surrounded."
Arimar keeps his falchion at the ready. "Oh, and Benaiah may well release you from his grasp, but you are not going anywhere. You have us and your mother to answer to, and then you'll have the Church of Abadar to contend with. At least you'll survive, and who knows? Maybe your honeyed words will be enough to secure you a lenient sentence."
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"Well, you finally show some semblance of being your mother's daughter. Wisdom."
Benaiah grins, not pulling his face back any further from the terrified woman's. The mutated man pulls her up suddenly, hoisting the woman over his shoulder. One powerful arm wraps over her knees while her stomach is planted on the pauldrons of his twisted armor. The other hand, still abnormally long, reaches back and pins her chest against his back, completely restricting any leverage she might have to wriggle from his grasp.
"Tie this wench up. And don't worry scared little girl, I only take women who want to be taken. You won't be violated under our care. I won't speak for what your mother will do once she gets better."
Pinned to the ground, the Handmaiden looks up at Benaiah, and then once again at the other Companions "" The Handmaiden continues to implore the others to remove Benaiah from her.
A loud explosion rocks the earth as a Mistress Lanvi guardsman is flung backwards from the concussive blast from a crossbow shot from the manor.
"Dammit, we need to take out that crossbowman. Cover me fool." Hepec calls to a handful of men near him. Snatching a sallet from one of the soldiers, he flops it on his bald head. Tipping precariously, he grips a longspear in both hands. Rushing forward like a boar charging down a mountain, Hepec screams. "." True to form, three men stand up and fire bolts at the manor causing the crossbowman to pivot to safety.
After the shafts splinter harmlessly on the stone walls, the crossbowman turns to fire another bolt. His eyes go wide as saucers at the iron tip of a longspear pushes through his breastbone and into a lung. A bloody gurgle is all the man is able to utter as his last breath passes over his lips.
Hepec's eyes are wide with terror as the man slides off his longspear's tip and slumps dead to the ground.
"Notice served."
Behind Hepec, the men cheer and push the attack forward.
"Hepec, please don't destroy the place!" Arimar whispers over the message, "Do you need help with the crossbowmen? Malgrim is still within range, I think. The Handmaiden is almost in our custody."
The big paladin looks at the squirming woman, "Quite demanding, aren't you? Handmaiden, I'm sure you can see the need to bind you before we trot you out to call of your men. Hold still and it will be much easier for both of us. Luckily for you, I the rope I have in my haversack is made of silk and shouldn't chafe too much."
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"Wise for yielding, but not so smart it seems. I never said I would put you down, I just told you to yield. That doesn't mean you suddenly get to go free. Now hold still so they can finish tying you up. The sooner you do, the sooner I let you go."
Benaiah snarls and chuckles at the same time, making a sinister sounding rumble that reverberates through the handmaiden's body. "If you were smarter you might realize that had you decided not to yield, I wouldn't be holding you tight, I would be chewing on your face. So I advise shutting your mouth, traitor."
Malgrim watches as the mysterious interloper utters her parting message... only to reappear in the hallway near him. Several paces away from his foe he whirls into an upper-cut, causing the stone of the floor under her to rush up in a stony fist that catches her in the face with a satisfying Thunk
Advancing on the spellcasting foe, and sheathed in stone Malgrim intones in a voice as hard as his skin, "You are not getting away that easy."
"Handmaiden," Gwendolyn's voice speaks calmly to the frenzied and pinned woman. "As my companions have stated, you are wise to yield. Things would go much rougher for you, if you had not. But trust me, they can get worse still if you do not stop this ranting and struggling."
"You will be tied up, and most likely gagged. You will not released from my companion's grasp until you are of zero threat to us."
The words which now pass her lips are brimming with anger and wrath, "Now be quiet and stop struggling, or we will be forced to treat you as you actually deserve..."
The halfling lowering the violin as she approaches the pinned form of Mistress Lanvi's daughter, but the melody of her song still hangs in the air for a few fleeting moments, reverberating off the walls.
The shimmering humanoid takes a huge amount of damage from the earth throwing hobgoblin, but is able to avoid the grasping stone claws. Placing a hand of each of the knaves shoulders, she begins to once again utter words in the arcane language before disappearing from sight.
The Handmaiden calms down as Gwen begins to help Benaiah secure her. "Mother always said if you can't control it, best lay back and enjoy it."
His foe having literally escaped from his stony grasp, Malgrim gingerly swings a series of probing bursts of rocky blows first where he last saw her, then where the knaves were, then in a short sweeping pattern. Grimly he returns to the main room, down cast as he says, "The spellcaster has escaped, along with the two from the hall. Some sort of magic. Perhaps you can tell us more, Handmaiden?"
He advances, annoyance evident in his voice. "Please tell me that all of this, this bloodshed and strife is for more than a family squabble or a petty powerplay."
Arimar helps Benaiah and Gwen drag the Handmaiden out to the balcony that looks over the first level.
"Lay down your arms!" he calls out, "The day is won, and not by House Versade. You are surrounded, and will be judged fairly by the Church of Abadar. If you do not comply..." Arimar looks first to the bound handmaiden and then to the men lying still and unconscious on the floor.
The House Versade guards drop their arms as Hepec and the Mistress Lanvi retainers move forward and secure them.
Hepec approaches with a huge grin on his face. "Master, well done! Very well done. We got those buggers. Only a handful of casualties on both sides. I need to know what you want to do with this filth and then I can start to sweep the manor for traps and take stock. Are you to spend the night in your chambers? I can have a boy make it up if you please?"
The Handmaiden looks at the Companions.
"My reasons are my own. Let us strike a bargain. I desire to leave Magnimar. I fear that I have lost the favor of House Versade and I am no longer welcome in my mother's manor, nor shall I inherit her business.
"I wish to leave and start anew. You are shrewd men, and woman, name your price." The Handmaiden looks imploringly at Malgrim as she speaks, not struggling in her bonds.
"Thank you, Hepec, you have done exceptionally well yourself," Arimar claps the man on his shoulder cheerily, "I appreciate the offer of having a bed made, but I believe this will be a sleepless night for all four of us. Taking stock of this house and chatting to the Handmaiden here will be top of our priority list - before rest, I'm afraid. First up, though, let's see to the wounded."
With wand and Sarenrae's healing grace, Arimar tends to all the wounded of Hepec's men first and then the Versades. He helps round everyone up, and gathers enough rope or manacles - Lanvi no doubt has ample supply of both - and secures all the prisoners.
"I guess it's time to find out what happened here," he sighs, marching over to the Handmaiden, "I'm sure you know how interrogations can go when we don't get the answers we want. I don't know if you like that kind of treatment or not, but I'd rather we just skipped the coy word play and went straight to the answers. We could always get your mother to help... and the Church of Abadar has ways of ensuring the truth. I'm sure with some rest, Sarenrae will also share it with me come morning. Answer us truthfully, and we will then decide if we let you go or not. If you have good reason for doing what you have done, then great. If not, you will stand judgement before the Church of Abadar. It is the best I can offer."
Arimar examines the haindmaiden's aura to see if he is dealing with an evil woman or simply a devious one.
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"I desire many things as well," Benaiah says with a snarl over his shoulder at the handmaiden. "Bargain all you like, just don't forget you are bargaining out of desperation, and I don't f#*&ing like you. You had better put all your cards on the table, and hope Arimar and the others are more lenient than the Church of Abadar."
"So start spilling. I'm ready to take notes."
"And Hepec, thanks for the offer, but you can keep the servant boys and girls away from my room. I'll take care of it myself. Well done tonight."
"Every man or woman captured tonight should be interrogated, presented to the Church of Abadar for judgement for their unlawful seizure of this manor, except for Mistress Lanvi's daughter here. We will get our information first and then decide her fate." Benaiah returns his glare to the handmaiden, tapping his pen expectantly while comfortably seated behind Mistress Lanvi's desk.
"There you have it, Miss," the halfling adds, following her companion's stern coaching. "We shall know if you are attempting to lie to us, and there are far worse consequences for attempting such folly."
"Please remember," Gwendolyn adds, still holding the violin and playing a soft, nearly inaudible dirge. "You have no power in this moment. Your fate is entirely at our mercy."
"I would lean toward not even discussing the possibility of your release, no matter what the blood money you promise to pay, until Mistress Lanvi has weighed in... but if my companions hear your tale, believe your reasons mount to some semblance of justification, and are willing to discuss your release... then I will follow their lead."
"But even so, the likelihood of you convincing them to follow such an action is very, very remote. After all, you and your friends within House Versade continue to underestimate us, and so the likelihood of you coming out on top of this negotiation is almost unthinkable."
With a lingering smile the halfling strikes noticeably piercing note with the violin.
"But please, for your own wellbeing, try your best to win us over..."
The retainers, both Lanvi's and House Versades' are grateful for the healing. All of House Versades' retainers are honest and forthright with any questions the companions can have for them.
They are low pay grade retainers, ignorant into the machinations of the great Houses, and just grateful for steady work and on time payments. As they were working on House Versade orders, the feel that their culpability in this matter is minimal, and ask to be furloughed whereas some will entertain employment in Mistress Lanvi's depleted stock of retainers.
The Handmaiden nods along with the multiple threats. "I have nothing to hide. My mother, biological in name only, was a s~~#ty mother at best. I was given the opportunity to join a great House here in Magnimar.
"For me it was an easy decision, stick with my mother's shambles of a business, living forever in her shadow, forever clawing to turn a profit or join the a much larger, better run organization. Better pay, more respect. I would make the same decision any day of the week.
"If not for you, I would have succeeded. Is this what you are looking for? To psychoanalyze me? To use magics to infiltrate my thoughts? I never liked you all much, and I still don't. I again implore you, set me free and I swear that I will never return to Magnimar."
"I was on the understanding that her business was running pretty well until she developed that cough and began neglecting it," Arimar notes out of curiosity, rather than denial, "Was it really in such a shambles? What was wrong with it and how could it be improved?" The paladin begins to get conversational, though he cannot help but stifle a yawn. It really was well past his bed time.
"Every deal has two sides, though," the paladin continues, "What did House Versade want out of this? What did you need to give them, and why exactly did they want Mistress Lanvi's household? I have a good idea, but I want to be absolutely crystal clear on that point."
The Handmaiden huffs and rolls her eyes. "You are all her business partners, didn't you look at her books? Figures, all brawn and no brain.
"Her business in Absalom does very well, though she possesses little business savvy.
"Magnimar is a different story altogether. Why she decided to expand the business here is anyone's guess?"
"The great houses control most of the lucrative commerce in the city. They have the city officials in their pocket. Their clients have been frequenting their establishments for generations. The inertia of familiarity is and will always be the biggest obstacle to up and comers like my mother was.
"So House Versade wanted assurances that they would maintain they practical monopoly on the entertainment industry. Acquiring her businesses would assure it.
"As for my relationship with House Versade, they gave me a trail. See what I could bring them. Let me tell you how surprised they were when I landed House Vanderale. Who knew they we just glorified drug dealers? With that information, House Versade thought they would ascend to the most powerful house in Magnimar. And then you stole the ledgers. They bankrolled so much wealth to get it back. First the Hellknights, then the Derexhi brood, and lastly they called upon me once again to leverage my mother's manor.
"All thwarted by you. So now I have no family, biological nor associative. I am a woman alone. I only wish to leave and start anew. My fate once again rests in your hands. Will you allow me another chance at life, or do you destine me to rot in jail or face the hangman's justice?"
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"Spare me the pity play, traitor. You expect me to feel sorry for you? What were you supposed to do? Honestly, that's the best you can come up with? You were doomed to always be in your mother's shadow, so instead of simply leaving the city, you chose to betray her to her most hated rival, sell her out and destroy everything she has worked to build?"
Benaiah's warped face twists up in disgust at the pitiful woman. "My father betrayed me as deeply as one can betray another, cast me out like the rest of the people he uses when they no longer become useful. And as much as I hate him for it, even I wouldn't stoop as low as you did. Even after all he has done, he is still my blood. Don't pretend for a second that you have some moral high ground to justify what you have done, and that it was your only logical choice. At least not to us. Tell yourself whatever pretty lies you want to help you sleep at night."
Benaiah the brute spits on the ground at the woman's feet. "I've no interest in leaving an enemy unaccounted for. She would sell out her mother at the mere promise of money and power, I've no doubt she would gleefully do the same to us. Besides, the last thing we need is her traveling to Absalom and causing problems there."
Benaiah turns to the others. "Leave her shackled in the bowels of this manor until her mother is healed, and let her mother pass judgement. If that is not good enough for you, then send her to the Abadarians. I don't want to see her go free."
"I'd say she's said enough to avoid her mother's revenge," Arimar nods, "But nothing she has told us was something we did not already know or suspect. Neither was it anything particularly laudable. I think the Church of Abadar would be the most just place to send her." Nine Hells, I think I believe that too.
Arimar has no desire to elicit any further information from the Handmaiden, and he instead busies himself confirming her story with those members of the Versade household who will do so.
The new day dawns, and Mistress Lanvi retainers work their arms in circular motions to try and looses up stiffening muscles. A make shift mess hall has been erected on of the dance halls, and people mull around conversing softly.
In Mistress Lanvi office, Hepec sits on the floor with papers spread all around him, stifling yawn after yawn.
Looking up at the companions, he nods silently to himself. "Everything, mostly, looks in order. Can't find too many possession missing, a vase here or there. Trifle things really.
What I really need to do is visit the establishments and make sure our people are there, working, generating profit. We need some money quickly to repopulate our houses and establishments. I am sure that you have more important matter to attend, but should I need you I will let you know.
"If I might suggest, it would ease my mind greatly if you would send me updates on Mistress' health. I worry so." the man tries to hold back tears. Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he continues. "I sent word to Julthor. He and the Abadarian should be here by midday.
"Here is your share of the profits, as promised." He hands each companion a bag containing 1000 gp.