I'm going to have to deal with this later... Raul continues strapping on his new equipment (grunting slightly from his wounds) then shifts back to hybrid form, shouldering his greatsword. "We should keep moving, get up and see what's going on. I'll take point." Raul begins walking in front, a little slow from his limp due to injuries and keeping one hand on the wound in his stomach, but he doesn't complain or ask for any help.
As Trops watches the two big folk loudly talk to each other, he unconsciously finds himself rummaging through his bag. As he extirpates a few objects he diverts his attention from Raul and Ris to look down at them.
"Sugar cubes? That won't do with thEEMMM.... it's for rats..."
Preparing to fly between the two non-humans to stop the upcoming fight, Trops is relieved to hear Raul back down. Sighting inwardly, the gnome disappears behing a rock.
Trops approaches Risbeth from the back ans starts climbing her clothes. The whole business is done quite subtly and Trops comes to rest on Risbeth's shoulders. There he starts are really soft massage on her neck and behing her ear (just like rats like it!)
Risbeths feels some tension in her neck and behind her ears relieved, as if a tiny person person was imperceptibly massaging them. But the thought of such thing happening would be to preprosterous, wouldn't it?
Risbeth feels something on her neck, and slaps at it. "Stupid mosquitos, only dead blood in there." She mutters.
What kind of mosquitoes massage their prey?
Thinks Trops as he breaks his fall by grabbing parts of Risbeth's pants. Then, he deftly climbs down unnoticed (DC 35 perception).
Still frustrated by his failed attempt, he subtly walks to Gordo, mounts him and flies over the group. Keeping a watch on them and brooding a bit.
Raul blinks as he notices the blinking. He sits, pulling an arrow out of his cheek before doing so.
Risbeth stops before entering the office. "Oh no you don't. I refuse to be seen by the Patrician looking like a common sewer rat." She turns to the choppered guard. "If you want to kill me go ahead, but we have some pride. Now, either send Igorina or one of your guards off to get me something presentable. I understand there may not be time for a bath." She says bath longingly. "But you can get a wizard or sorcerer in here to cast prestidigitation on us to clean us up. Have you no manners? Now hurry up, chop chop. Do you want to the Patrician to find out you've kept him waiting?"
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Once entering the office, she steps before the Patrician's desk, gives a flowery curtsy. "Good Patrician, it is good to see you were not harmed by tonight's excitement, or was it yesterdays?" She smiles, and places the fake assassin's guild pin and IDs on the desk. "I would assume you are somewhat upset about the whole thing. We were ambushed by complete incompetents doing their best to drag the assassins's guild's name through the mud, and ruin their reputation for fine and upstanding assassins." She then takes one of the seats directly in front of him.
Raul spends some time removing the crossbow bolts while Risbeth focuses on the debrief.
*arguing words*
"Hey Sword. Sword. Hey." Tanz 'whispers' to his sword. There's no real reason to do so, since they're speaking telepathically, but this fact is irrelevant in the face of DRAMA!
"What?"
"What squishies doing?"
"Yelling? It sounds like they're yelling."
"But why for?"
"Who knows? They're squishy. Are they married? I hear married couples do that a lot. Ask Igor, he's squishy too. He might have some insight."
"Good idea. Hey Igor, you know?"
”Aherm, a-yes master, might I remind you that I cannot hear the voices in your head. I will... aherm, need some context."
The troll sighs in exasperation before continuing his whispered conversation.
"The squishies! They do loud something."
"Aherm, a-yes master, I believe it's called an argument."
The troll looks at him blankly.
"But... they not hit with rock?
"Aherm, a-yes master, no, they do not."
"Squishies odd."
"Aherm, a-yes master, as you say."
Tanz waits patiently, stroking his luxurious beard in what he hopes could be described as a contemplative fashion. The iron barbs make a ringing chiming sound. Finally though Raul leads off, and the group follows. After an uneventful stroll and some fortunate chances at destruction, they find themselves facing people that even Tanz would be hesitant to call squishy.
They are quickly divested of anything that can be used to stab with, or anything that can be tried to be used to stab with.
Sword does not take this well.
Tanz laughs at Sword until his own hands are covered in oversized padding.
Igor very very carefully does not even think about smiling.
The group proceeds into the office.
Vetinari does not look up.
Then tension builds. Fortunately trolls are immune to tension and Tanz sits staring at his hands. His padded hands.
he sighs forlornly.
Once entering the office, she steps before the Patrician's desk, gives a flowery curtsy. "Good Patrician, my apologies for making you wait. It was rather difficult to ensure I and my Igorina were at a minimum of presentability prior to entering." She looks down at the barely better than off the rack dress. "Yes, minimum indeed." She suppresses a glare at Drumknot, and waits for him to leave before continuing. "Again, my apologies for appearing before you such an state. It is, however, very good to see you were not harmed by tonight's excitement, or was it yesterdays?" She smiles, not quite sure how much time had passed between the explosion and now.
She holds out a hand and Igorina places the fake ID from the assassins in her hand. Igorina too plucks at the clothing as if it were barely better than a sack cloth, and looks very depressed*. Risbeth places the fake assassin's guild pin and IDs on the desk. "I would assume you are somewhat upset about the whole thing. We are as well. I'm also sure you'll be equally upset over the insult to the various guilds. The Alchemists Guild, the Seamestresses Guild, the Copyrighter's Guild, and not least of which the Assassin's Guild." She sniffs with disdain. "We were ambushed by complete incompetents doing their best to drag the assassins's guild's name through the mud, and ruin their reputation for fine and upstanding assassins with their complete and utter lack of skill."
Having done the required protesting and apologizing over her state of disarray required of a Member of the Seamestresses Guild in Good Standing**, she then takes one of the seats directly in front of the Patrician and awaits his response.
Igorina takes a seat on the far end, on the same side as her Mistress, and sulks as she tugs and prods at the substandard clothes.
Trops walks in the office. His body still covered with soot from the misfire, the gnome leaves a trail of dark footsteps on the carpet of the room. Arriving at the chair, he jumps unto it, faces the patrician and waits.
As he waits, the wee man takes the time to look at all the nice protective measures taken by the patrician to avoid a quickened and forced eternal sleep. Among the most impressive is the complete lack of nails and also the use of highly delicate fabrics that would tear apart rather than sustain enough pressure to strangle a person.
The gnome lets out a whistle of admiration.
Risbeth claps happily. "Oooh! Do you know if they are selling tickets?" She asks, smiling sweetly. "I'd love to watch the tor.. questioning! One of them should have a concussion, considering how hard I hit him in the head." She looks very pleased, like a cat who just stole a jar of cream.
Igorina looks excited as well. "I would like ticketh too Mithtreth!"
Risbeth nods. "Certainly Igorina! I'd even pop for Tanz a ticket, I'm sure Trops would know who to buy them from!" She beams a smile at Trops. "I assume you don't need a ticket? Being in the guild?" She asks Trops, licking her fangs in anticipation.
Finally though, she returns her eyes to Lord Vetinari. "Oh, well of course it was murder! Reggie was ever too smart to let himself be killed by such a stupid accident. And the powder explosion was obviously meant to get rid of the evidence and us as well. Ever so much easier to frame people for murder when they're conveniently dead." She sniffs disdainfully. "Obviously I had nothing to do with the murder. I'm ever too intelligent to be this messy. Poor old Reggie had a habit of hiring girls who weren't part of the guild, it would have been ever so much more tidy to introduce him to one who had a, shall we say, fatal side effect. Now, dear Trops is in the assassins guild, so I'm fairly certain he didn't do it, he knows what the guild does to people who take a contract without permission." She reaches out to pat Tanz on the arm. "And dear Tanz here would just smash him over the head."
Risbeth looks thoughtful as she thinks it over. "Obviously you don't think we did it either, or you'd have us in chains. More than likely it's inter-guild conflict. That's where I'd put my money. The Unseen University would be rather upset about things that could put holes in Wizards. The Cross-bow Maker Guild would be upset, as would the Armorer's guild. Even dear Vimy would be upset about our new guns. The Smith's guild might be upset with us for making metal weapons without them. The Copy Writer's guild might be upset that Trops and Raul and I managed to explain the difference between the Copy Writer's Guild and the Copyright Office to dear Reggie's assistant." Risbeth trails off, looking thoughtful, obviously thinking of everyone she can who'd have a motive*.
This list, of course, is much easier represented by those who don't have a motive**.
<this space intentionally left blank>
Raul blinks, clearing his head of the fatigue and dizziness from blood loss. "Risbeth is right, extremely convenient to frame somebody and kill them. No chance to defend themselves." He tears off a bit of his shirt, ripping it with his teeth and binding it around one of his wounds as he continues. "I think we have two areas to investigate. One is a hunch, and that is to ask the assassins guild if they have any enemies who might want to frame them for a job such as this. I think that would be best handled by...other members." He finishes the knot, pulling the strip tight. "My other idea is trailing the explosives. These methods aren't old enough to be widespread, and every person has a certain style when they use gunpowder. It's like a chemical fingerprint, we might be able to trace it."
Risbeth nods. "Yes, we all have slightly different formulas for our powder. But they did blow up our stores of powder, and everyone contributed to that store house, so there's going to be an awful mess of 'signatures' in that." But then here eyes widen a bit, and she gives a feral grin. "And it would be in keeping to use someone else's powder in your gun when shooting Reggie. After all, any alchemist would be able to trace the powder burns on poor Reggie after being shot that close. Which means I'm sure one of our powders was used on Reggie, us being the scapegoats. But, our framer might have made a mistake. They could get our powder easily from the stores, but our lead balls are also homemade, and everyone's is different. Because we all made our own guns. My lead balls won't work in Trop's gun, or Tanz's, or Raul's. Plus I melt my lead down at home, and I usually add some iron powder to them as a stabilizing agent. I'm sure we all have different bullet recipes, and that would have had to come from his gun." She grins at Raul. "Nice catch."
The gnome listens to the tall folk talking. He seems quite displeased when the patrician demandes them to become detectives. His frown deepens at the idea of getting tickets to watch people being tortured, something really seem to bother him about this.
As Raul and Risbeth mention traces that might help them find the murderer, Trops' face changes to one of curiosity and deep thoughts.
"I agreeEEE! Smart. Just need to get to the body before anyone else does. As for Mr. Goatie's second hunch, framing the assassin's guild would just be stupid, first because it's suicidal, second because the we are allowed to take contracts by mr. Patrician here. So... the 'assassins' were a distractIONNN?" Half shouts the gnome, his voice now quite strained, he takes a short break.
Now shouting in a whispering way to Risbeth:"No way we get tickets for the torture. I'll ask a 'friend' for the report on the 'eveNTTT'."
Tanz gets excited when Risbeth pats his arm, thinking that she's going to take the gloves off. But she does not, and so he returns to moping.
he pauses thoughtfully.
Igor pulls out a chunk of said material and tosses it to Tanz, who chews thoughtfully.
the big troll trails off, rubbing his nose with a gloved hand contemplatively. Igor sighs and readies a hanky.
As soon as Raul is outside the view of the guards he closes his eyes and sits down, leaning against the nearest building. "I can't focus with a dozen holes in me. I need to get healed. It's late as it is, since most of the places we intend to go are business establishments we should hold this off till morning."
Risbeth curtsies, and refuses to be budged by the guards until she's gone through a flowery goodbye to Count Vetinari. This is of course, Expected Behaviour!
Once outside, she smiles at Drumknot's annoyance at losing the dresses. "I did offer to give you the key to my house. Had you been thinking properly, you could have had your guards search for evidence that I had something to do with the murder, while I met with Lord Vetinari. You would also have saved yourself the cost of two dresses." She then dismisses Drumknot and the guards, as if it were her decision when they left and when they didn't.
When Raul comments on needing healing, she snorts. "Well, in that case, let's all go back to my offices. I can do some minor healing on Trops and Raul, the latter of which will mind his manners for a change." She waggles her finger at him. "Or else I will have Igorina mix malethia-methylbromide into your food at some point, and give you cereberal hemrhoids." She utters in a dire voice. "Tanz dear, I think I have some old Uberwaldian copper coins if you'd like a snack." She offers, but mostly just chats about mundane things and nothing consequential for the entire walk back to her place. The entire walk though, Igorina giggles off and onn to herself, muttering something about malethia-methylbromide and therebral hemrhoidth every few blocks eliciting another giggle.
-----------------------------------
Once at her place, she points everyone to sit around in her living room (Raul and Trops on a cushioned table on which she puts a rubber sheet first to protect it from blood, assuming either/both came). Then she opens up a locked chest and tosses a few pieces of cheese on the floor.
"Come out come out dearies!" She says, as she scatters the cheese. "Anyone broke in or listening outside windows?" She asks the rats that come out chittering to get fed.
From a small ice box, she pulls some fresh fruit and puts it on the desk in a small platter.
"Friends of mine, come to my desk and dine, my house I hope you protect, strangers in my house hath made effect?"
"Now, I can go talk to Vimesy if you like, I've worked with the watch a few times here and there. Anyone have some contacts at the Wizard's university? The cross-bow maker's guild? The armorer's Guild? Trops, can you talk to the Assassins and get that transcript, I really do wish I'd been able to watch." She droops, and writes on the board as she talks.
SAY NOTHING IMPORTANT UNTIL THE RATS AND BATS CONFIRM WE ARE UN-OBSERVED! TANZ!!!! TANZ!!!! YOU TOO! IGOR WHISPER TO HIM!
Tanz asks, tilting his head quizzically. After a brief moment, it occurs to him and he nods, smiling knowingly.
Igor sighs.
Raul shakes his head. "I still have a few contacts in the city, but after my falling out I have to watch my step."
As Risbeth mentions the violent interrogation again, Trops frowns. He shakes is head strongly, meaning there is no way he would bring the vampire lady.
As the wee man prepares to tell this to Risbeth, he is interrupted by Tanz. First amused by Tanz's interpretation of Risbeth's command, Trops gets slighty annoyed. He climbs up Tanz and, whispers in his ear:
"Stop speaking and wait."
From the troll's shoulder, he resumes what he was about to say:
"I could bring Raul with me to the Guild, but only him. Then, we could see his old buddies. Anyway, thanks for letting me come here, I am afraid the infection of my wound might have gotten worst if I had stayed home with Gordo... my home is not the cleanest."
Surprisingly, Trops voice hasn't strained yet and his shouts sound more like normal speech. It must be that he is tired...
Risbeth waits for the rats and bats she feeds and lets stay in her home* to come out and answer her questions. "Oh, I see, well, let's deal with first aid then first." She takes out her little portable alchemists kit, and begins mixing noxious chemicals together. Soon it is filled with a disturbingly orange liquid. "Here you are Raul, this should take the sting out."
The concoction tastes like a cross between rotten fish and week old moldy socks, but it packs a punch healing wise.
Igorina, meanwhile, is tugging the last of the bolts out of Raul, being medium gentle with it. When she's done, she goes to a locked cabinet, and adds a few flasks to it, little dates written on the front. She also takes two flasks down, popping both open and giving one to her Mistress, and keeping one for herself.
Risbeth pauses between patients to take a long drink from the flask, and when she's done, her lips are much redder than they were before, and her pale complexion warms slightly. "Ah, much better, thank you Igorina." Then she returns to mixing chemicals into a vial, this time only using tiny amounts.
Soon she has a small vial with a blue tint to it. "Here we go, Trops. You drink this one." The vial is only about 1/4 full, and she turns it up so Trops can drink from it.
The goat flavored healing liquid flows through Trops, making his little body sheen with vigor. Cuts and scrapes heal up, his skin takes on a healthy sheen. "There, you look much better. And you're very welcome to come visit whenever you need to." She gives the little gnome a kiss on the forehead, leaving behind some lipstick.
Finally, Risbeth get's out some wires and bends them into a shape to hold a flask, and then attaches the wires to Tanz's head. Finally she pokes a tiny hole in a flask's lid, and sets the flask onto the apparatus on Tanz's head. A tiny drop of liquid ice drops out of the flask and onto the troll's head every few seconds, cooling him down nicely. "There, now we shall have some useful conversation from Tanz, we hope. Or we'll have brittle diamond shards crack loose. Either is a positive outcome." She says brightly, eyes glittering.
About half of Raul's wounds seal over and he relaxes in the seat. "I'm impressed by the potency of that, you'll have to show me your trick sometime." Raul stands, still scratching at a few holes but feeling much better. He begins taking off his armor. "So, what is the plan for tomorrow. Staying together, splitting up, where to first?"
Risbeth listens to the rats and bats, nodding politely as both sides proclaim the quick defeat of the other, all while eating their treats, and smiles. Once they're done, she warns both sides that Non-Uberwaldean Forces are in Action from Outside The Realm, and that hostilities should pause while Outside Forces are guarded against.
Returning to her guests, she takes a seat on her chair, behind her desk, and puts her feet up. "Ok, per our friends, the house is as secure as we can make it short of throwing up wards, which I don't have the money for. Tanz? Did you want some copper?" Igorina drops a plate with 30 copper pieces from Uberwald, the metal coated with green from age and water exposure. "I suggest I deal with Vimsey and Madame Palm? Trops and Raul take the assassin's guild? Tanz, do you have any friends in the University?"
"There's a lot of toes I'll step on by just waltzing into the guild. Didn't exactly leave on good terms."
"Trops sweetie, you're going to need to stay here, Igorina will set you up with a bed, and Gordo with a nice perch and some bird seed. I think we still have some from when I was experimenting with finches. If not, we have bread and crackers, which I have found pigeon's generally like. Or pretzels, you'd be surprised at how popular pretzels are with the odd Quetzacoatl who comes by for a scale shining."
"Sorry Goatie man, forgot about that. Thanks vampire lady. I shall set my stuff to go to bed."
Trops goes to bed.
The troll sighs as the temperature becomes more pleasant, and he actually removes his helmut.
the troll picks up a handful of coins, frowning at the corrosion. He shrugs though and hands them to Igor, who quickly polishes them as best he is able before handing them back to be eaten.
He pauses again, chewing noisily.
The troll nods affirmatively.
Risbeth watches Trops got to sleep in the corner, curled up on a pillow on the desk, with a large towel wrapped around him for a blanket, then she turns back to the rest, talking quietly. "Very good. I'll talk to Vimesy and Madame Palm. Tanz can handle the University, And Raul and Trops can handle the Assassin's Guild." She looks at the cuckoo clock on the wall. "Well, it's nearly dawn. I'll go take a nice long hot bath, and call for a covered cab, and go deal with Vimsey. Madame Palm won't be up until the afternoon more than likely. Igorina, see to it anyone who needs rest has a room to stay in. Tanz hon, sorry about the corrosion, my last troll patient liked them that way, I thought it was common. I have some non-corroded ones too." She pats Tanz on the shoulder affectionately. "You can stay in the basement if you want today to rest, it's rather cool down there, it is a wine cellar, and usually stays in the 50's. Very dry as well." Igorina shows Raul to a guest room if he wants to stay. Then Risbeth will go take a long, luxurious bath and wash her hair and scrub all the sewer stink off herself. Igorina cleans and polishes her armor. When done, the sun is no doubt up, so she'll put the flag out that signals for one of the street urchins to call her a covered and light sealed carriage. While waiting, dresses in her best work clothes with the cleaned armor.
Putting on a giant cloak with cowl, she dashes out the door in the morning haze*, and jumps into the sealed carriage. "Take me to the Watch's Headquarters, via the stable please, so I can get out where there's no sun!" She calls out to the carriage operator, and drops 5 gold into the box, along with a couple of silver's tip.
Once at Watch headquarters, she'll make her way inside, hang up the cloak, and approach whoever is watching the front desk (carefully staying out of any direct sunlight). "Hello, may I speak with Commander Vimes please? Or whoever he has left in charge if he's not in today?"
The haze surrounding Anhk-Morpork is as like crystal clear air as the river is to crystal clear water. Most days, it was possible to walk from shore to shore without a boat.
Raul nods in thanks for the offer to stay; any chance to not walk with these injuries was fine with him. As Risbeth is about to shut the door he says "Hey." He pauses for a moment, looking her in the eyes. "Thanks." Without another word he rolls over and starts snoring almost immediately.
As the others wake and Risbeth returns you smell eggs and bacon frying. As you walk into the living room Raul grunts a "Mornin'" and hands each person a plate with an omelet on it(cooking his own last since he always likes a pinch of garlic with his eggs).
Trops climbs up the table and sits on it. As the immense plate is brought to him by Raul, he takes out an appropriatly sized fork and a knife. Then, the gnome starts digging in, letting out squeals of contentment and stopping every so often to throw bits of food in the air, where they are eaten by Gordo who flies by to catch them.
His tiny mouth full, the wee man adresses Raul:
"Vampire lady already goNNNE? oh well... SooooOOOO... time to mend your relationship with the guild? You know you could always try to get membership, that would stop them from making you a clieNNTTT?"
Raul methodically chews and finishes the bite he was on. "We left on mutually bad terms."
Igorina enters the kitchen, wearing a butler's uniform, which looks much better on her figure than it does on a male's figure. She raises one eyebrow as she sees Raul and Trops eating. "Well, the Mithtreth rarely enterth the kitchen now dayth. I hope you both thlept well." She then proceeds to make herself some oatmeal, to which she adds what looks suspiciously a half-pint of blood, turning it into a dark red mixture. "My apologieth if anyone ith offended by my breakfath. Unfortunately, failure to drink enough blood leaveth my handth very thakey, which ith countraindicated for thurgeonth." She proceeds to very happily eat the oatmeal. "The Mithtreth took a thealed cab to talk to the watch. Fortunately there are enough vampireth in the thity that it'th worthwile for the cab companyth to have a few thpecial cabth around for them to travel by day." She sighs. "Unfortunately, I do not hath a vampireth ability to thtay awake all the time. I had to thleep for a few hourth, or I would haff went with her."