Leaning in ever so slightly towards the youngster, Harakhty decided to cull the flow of facts they were giving him. "Your brother and Saltspray were aboard the vessel that was sank as she says. Sinking a ship does not mean sinking the crew though; Jean-Paul and the captain did not end up on the ocean's floor. You might be doubtful, but we got to this land somehow, and we're obviously not from here. Saltspray's ship was in the area. Put the pieces together for yourself." Harakhty allowed him a moment to process the scenario. "Having travelled with them, here we are, not drowned, but still breathing." He inhaled deeply for emphasis.
Looking at the man's sword, Harkahty continued. "That blade can draw blood, but not a map to your brother, nor those who killed him or stood by him as he died." His eyes went back to the pirate. "Like I said, we're businessmen. It may just be such a map could be charted for you." This could go in one of a few ways, but being young, Harakhty tried the most basic. "Five thousand golden coins, you said? That is a rather hefty sum. We're not after your coin though." The Vanara shook his head. "Your ... cargo is more interesting to us."
He gave the prelude to the proposition a brief moment to sink in, then nodded at Skaar. "Our partner's idea has sense - shall we head someplace more private?"
"Anyone who knows Horace knows Jitty. The two were frères d'armes," Jean-Paul's brother says. "D'accord, we shall speak elsewhere."
He turns, a flash of silver can be seen in his hair. Looking closely, you see it is a pin bearing the holy symbol of Sarenrae. He walks down the dock until you come to a shack which looks like a small cafe. It looks like it had been constructed recently He opens the door and dismisses the five men sitting inside.
He removes his hat, setting it on a peg on a wall. He offers a table nearby.
"Wine? Water?" he asks.
Grunted and pulled out a chair.
"Wine."
The big Orc waited for his companions to do the same and then asked another probing question.
"Were you and yer brother close? How'd you end up on separate sides of this whole mess?"
"Some wine would be fine. I'm sure the story will out itself on its own, my friend."
As much as he hated to admit it to himself, Drago felt parched, "Water."
"Wine would be fine" Aurelea replies as she pulls out a chair herself.
Cyna takes a seat and answers "Water please."
LeVoux pulls two bottles from the shelf and arranges glasses on the table. Except for Skaar's, they appear to be quite delicate thin stemmed glasses. For Skaar, he places a tankard before the orc. The wine he pours is a deep red and possesses a fruity scent. He pulls two oaken mugs from another shelf and dips them in a bucket containing water. He then serves those to Cyna and Drago.
"Comme c'est étrange! You have not introduced yourselves and you immediately ask me about my relationship with my brother," the pirate says, taking a drink of wine. "Quand même, I am sure I will get to hear what I want to hear. I am Marcel LeVoux, enchanté."
He slyly winks at Cyna before resuming. "My brother and I were not close. Like most problems, we had a falling out over money. We grew up from a poor family and the plague in Valania worsened matters. He was a travelling cleric even before meeting up with Rando, so money was tight even then. When he left, our parents were infirm and I sought to better their state of living.
Bientôt, some of Horace's men came to our village looking for recruits. My father trained me in sword fighting. They attempted to put me into a press gang, but I showed them how skilled I was with a blade and took their ship."
His face darkens for a moment. "I do not delight in killing, that's why I let my men do it for me. But, if one wants to survive in this world, you have to do it yourself occasionally. Anyway, so I took their ship and had what crew remained lead me to Horace. Horace wasn't personable, but free with his money. Though I sailed under his flag, he paid me like a mercenary.
I set up my parents in a fine home and paid for the best doctors. Unlike Jean-Paul, I did not leave it up to the gods. Leaving things to the gods is for those who can do no better. I did not hate my brother, but he was a fool in some ways. We met on very few occasions, our parents' birthdays mostly. He gave me this."
He pulls the silver pin out and handles it with some fondness. Replacing it, he continues. "He was angry with me for wanting to enjoy the finer things in life. I with him because he thought poverty was important to the 'religious experience'. Anyway, I know what you mean to tell me. Jitty killed my brother, whether by his own hand or by sinking the ship. I knew that bâtard lay in bed with the Rough Beast and he had a taste for killing Sarenrae's followers. What I really want to know and what may earn you my favor is: where did Jitty go?"
He finishes his wine and leans against the wall, awaiting a response.
"The South," said Harakhty simply before taking a sip of the wine. "You're rather well-informed about your brother's whereabouts, his motives, and his perils. Yet for all that knowledge you did nothing. My tribe would see that as ... unbrotherly." The Vanara took another sip; the wine was good, surpassing the swill at the previous establishment easily. He awaited the likely ireful response from Marcel before continuing.
"I am not like my tribe, the Suntooths, and - like you - I would disagree with their opinion. But there is little you can do now." His eyes wandered to his fancy hat on the peg and red jacket. "Your skills with a sword would mean nothing against Jitty. The swordslady and greenskin didn't even have time to take a swing at him before the ship was destroyed." said Harakhty, disliking the demeaning title for Skaar but hoping it would instill a slight bit of commonness in him for LeVoux. "To oppose Jitty now would take full sacrifice, not half-measures. Your care of coin will water-down your resolve, driving you away from what's important. Like before."
"We are meant to halt Jitty as well, and we have it on a certain ... divine authority the task is doable. Not easy, but doable - only if you are truly devoted." As he fell silent, Harakhty let the brother process the story. A difficult fork in the road - a decisive one. He sat back in his chair and waited.
"There was a day I saw a wizardly cellist on a ferry. His robe was long and his hair likewise, but he played only the foulest dissonances. He did wish to write a spell upon existence, a spell of nothing, of anti-gain. He failed. They all fail. Rovagug wants to choke on the cock of destruction. He's another fool. Jitty sucks at the teat of a cow of defeat. Slaughter is all because slaughter is their destiny. There comes a time when you decide: 'Do I wish my own destruction or do I wish myself better?' I must say, I have much more to experience."
"Les fous sont généralement les plus honnêtes," Marcel says with a laugh. He pours a second round of wine and water.
"Suntooth, we are born into this world struggling and screaming. I would have provided for my brother if he had wanted. But like your friend says, he wished to 'destroy' himself. His gifts were a blessing to the Valanians, but, for himself, Sarenrae could not heal his own wounds. A woman broke his heart. Don't they all?
"He sought solace in pain, in suffering. He turned from his family. Was he a bad man? Peut-être, peut-être pas. I let him live as he wanted to and prayed for his soul. I'm sure he did the same for me. We never saw également, but he was my brother, nevertheless. Honor demands that I repay Jitty for his crimes, whether I succeed or not is a pointless question. The attempt is what matters. I sail for my family; not for coin, not for wine, not for women. The money I make is means to an end.
"I have done distasteful things. Even now, I sell lives for coin. Horace wants these clerics. Why? I do not know. Betraying Horace is of little concern to me, I have looted that fat pig for all I would ever need. My parents will be buried in a fine place when that day comes. My money is in the hands of a trusted friend.Ça ne fait rien."
He takes a sip of wine and shrugs. "What would you have me do?"
Finishing his water, Drago spoke up, "Aquire the Clerics as you were contracted to. Then sail away, with us on board ahead of time. Once a fair distance turn back a ways from the city, and drop the Clerics off. I am confident their people with find them. Is it a perfect plan? Maybe not, but it's the start of one."
"He's right - and if the clerics aren't rescued, there will be less people to help bring Jitty to justice." Honor in a pirate. I've seen everything now... Harakhty understood well the means to an end though; this was merely a nested mean in a larger scheme for him. "I'd explain the connection if I could, but I don't completely understand it myself; in short, if the priests aren't returned, there will be a big problem for another powerful party able to help track Jitty." Not knowing the particulars of the religion, he didn't care to speculate.
"We share a desire to see that bastard bleeding out on the ground. This gets both you an us closer to seeing that happen." Aurelea chimes in as she finishes her drink.
Skaar shifted uncomfortably is his seat as the pirate came around. Could it really be so easy? Was a concept like family honor enough to turn a mercenary like this Marcel against his employer? Only time would tell.
For now the big Orc remained silent as the rest of his party explained the details and determined exactly how far the fop would go to spite the allies of his brother's killer. If Marcel had treachery in his heart, Skaar would be there to make him regret it.
"Perhaps, but the problem is that I am not alone. There are three of Horace's ships off-shore, they are in no way loyal to me and, sincèrement, they would like nothing better than to remove me forcibly from Horace's service," Marcel says after a moment. "Kabir seems to be a threat to these people here and, upon meeting him, you might be able to remove him with little difficulty. He is faible for a leader. His men might prove more of a challenge. But, if you were to free these clerics, I could reasonably signal that we have been betrayed by Kabir, giving you some extra support and a useful distraction in the chaos. Of course, if you'd rather not, then we shall proceed with your plan."
And he's as sharp as he looks. "That idea isn't half-bad; you could've been - could be much more than a pirate." Harakhty wasn't originally going to be much himself; only after going to the city was he able to better reach his potential.
"If you would like to seek your revenge, we would stand a better chance against Jitty together. My worry is if you are signaling this betrayal to your men, you will be rather tied-up with them. How would you get away from your duties?" Though the plan was not bad, there were lots of possibilities for divergance from the goal. "And though their leader may be ... weak? I'm not familiar with your tongue, sorry." He tried his best with common, sometimes too stiff with it, and learning other languages didn't seem to go well while he mastered his first non-native tongue. "His minions may not be. How are their numbers - and are they strong?"
"I must maintain appearances in order to ensure you are able to get the clerics to safety. As long as I don't give them reason to suspect me, Horace's men and I devraient être aimable," Marcel replies. "Yes, Kabir is weak, physically. The only reason he is able to fight the people of Deshur is because of his numbers. I'm sure if you've walked these streets, you would have met some of his men already. These are mostly the rank and file of his cult. In the palace, you might find others you are not so ordinaire."
Marcel finishes his second drink and takes up his hat. "If you must kill Kabir, it would probably best if you did, leave his body to be found by the captains and I. Set a fire on one of the balconies of the palace to signal that you are done and leading the clerics to safety. I'll convince the others to leave, stating that I shall handle clean-up and "mending diplomatic relations" or some absurdité. I'll await your return here."
"Sounds like a solid plan to me. When do we strike?"
"Works for me."
"Go now. When you leave here, head north to the tall golden spire. That is the palace," Marcel says with some determination. "It should only take you about five minutes to get there. I'll send some men out to keep any cultists out of your way."
Marcel strides to the door, opens it and shouts outside. "Luc, take a few men, parcourir les rues et retarder les cultistes."
"Oui, mon capitaine," Luc replies.
You hear the sound of many footsteps proceeding past the little cafe. Marcel places his hat on his head. "Bonne chance, mes amis."
It was as good of a chance as any, Marcel's plan. Harakhty had no qualms with it, but he doubted it would be as clean in execution as it sounded aloud.
Drawing his hood around him again, he set out towards the golden spire of the palace, his senses alert as he walked.
Skaar nodded in agreement and stood to leave with the others.
"It's as good a plan as any", the big Orc grunted.
"Yer brother would be proud."
***
As the group passed through the streets towards the palace, Skaar leaned in to speak softly to Harahkty.
"You sure we can trust him? Do ya really think love for a brother would be 'nuff to make a man betray his boss and risk everything?"
Nodding without hesitation, the inquisitor replied "Yes. I never had a brother, but from those I've seen, they can be very close."
You make your way through the streets with less difficulty than before. The sounds of loud arguing and some fighting can be heard as you pass by homes and alleyways. It seems that Marcel made good on his offer to keep the cultists off your back. After about fifteen minutes, you arrive at the palace.
The golden structure pierces the sky. Its great doors lie open, the blood upon them a telling mark of what happened here. Peering inside, you see two cultists sacked out on some couches. You cannot make out anything else from your current vantage point.
Drago whispers to his companions,"What now?"
"We sneak in and wreck up the place?" Cyna whispers back with a shrug.
"We find da priests, kill Kabir, and set that fire", Skaar answers before leading the group inside.
Skaar's summation being direct and accurate, the Vanara holds his silence as he follows him inside.
Aurelea draws her sword with a look of determination, feeling the blade almost hum in her hands.
You enter into the palace without disturbing the guards. You see that there are two doors to the east and west of this room.
Cyna nods to the others and waits for them to ready themselves before she walks over and tries to KO one of the guards.
,
,
,
The hulking greenskin casually approaches the unconcious guard and after getting a good grip, snaps his neck.
Cyna knocks out one of the guards with no difficulty. Skaar gives the other a vicious spinal adjustment, rousing the sleeping cultist who dies from choking on his blood.
Skaar gives a nod of approval to Cyna. The big greenskin points to Harahkty and then the opposing door before approaching the western door and listening against it himself.
The hulking brute moved with deadly efficiency, this was obviously not his first mission of this sort.
As Skaar puts his ear up to the oaken door, he hears a couple voices conversing, but the door is too thick to make out what they are saying clearly.
Skaar growled softly and then held up two thick fingers to warn the group.
Aurelea walks up to the door and begins the moions of a mystic guesture with one hand, nodding to Skaar.
Cyna will switch to her favored weapon, her scimitar, and move towards the door.
Savage casts Bless quietly.
Given his recent ability with his magic, Drago decides to go conventional. He unslings his crossbow, loads it and takes position to fire at the first cultist in his line of sight.
Considering Skaar's and Cyna's actions against the guards a bit of overkill, Harakhty said a brief prayer for both of their souls before heading to the other door as directed. His crossbow made its way out of its sling and into his hand as he listened.
Returning Skaar's hand signal with his own, he let the greenskin make the next move.
Harakhty checks the other door and hears nothing on the other side.
Nodding at the signal, Skaar abandons his door and opened the eastern one.