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"I will be happy to live with you Kiki... for some reason I just did know how to find you. Something in my head was telling me where you stood. I followed that direction and... and I found you!"
Kikinnin pauses on the steps leading up into Cauldron. "Sounds like you might just be god-touched, little Søs. Our miss Marigold has a similar relationship with Sarenrae. Makes me wonder what might come about for you." He pulls on his beard for a couple of moments.
"St. Cuthbert's been good to me. Let's see if they'll find us some room. If not, we can look about the city for some place to rest our heads when night comes."
"Kristof of Desna believes that Pharasma's worshipers plan to build their Cathedral high enough to block the moon rays from reaching the Shrine of Pelor. While it's true that the Cathedral has recently undergone some additional construction, I am more worried that the added friction between the two churches is pointing to something more."
Kikinnin trusts her take on things, for her constancy in Cauldron. "It pains me to hear these things. Feels like we put out one fire, and two more arise in other places. I know that we must have accomplished something for our journey to Occipitus, but it's given time to the local troublemakers to see their work proceed unfettered."
The black beard excuses himself, seeking out his friends, hoping that brighter minds will prevail. "Oh, and if it wouldn't be too much trouble, Gemma's returned with me from the Malachite, and I'd see her safely dormed, either here in the church, or somewhere you might suggest."
Kikinnin takes turns, sipping on a dark stout, then sipping on a whiskey, then back to stout. He enjoys the rounds coming to the table, enough so by the time he's had four, he likens the smaller glass of whiskey to the blond beard, while the stout becomes token for the priest. As Maxim and Ryan chat, Kikinnin wiggles each glass while the talkers talk. For the depth of its glass, the stout priest is more animated, while the shorter glass makes slow rocks back and forth, in shrewder movements.
Eventually, Kikinnin lends his coin of thought to the discussion.
"We need to grow our numbers first. Losing Marigold and Juraan is a blow to the Watchers' strength. If Reuben is amenable to the cause, we should bring him back from stone." The black beard deftly tosses back the whiskey, chasing it with the cold of the stout.
"Can't imagine what that's been like, cast in stone. Do you think he'll retain his wits, or might he come back mad as a hatter? Suppose we find some basilisk blood, and find out for ourselves. Maxim, you got connections? Don't suppose Juraan handed off any of the blood, before we left?"
Kikinnin focuses as best he can on the singular task of restoring Reuben, his mind uneasy at the thought of the Stormblades losing one of their own. He thought them a petty crowd, but their strength might still lend itself to any threats Cauldron currently faces.
JJ takes Sara to a nearby pub, and orders a drink or two, and a nice meal.
"I know what you mean. The half orcs... I mean, it is not their fault who they are, but they seem keener on fighting than keeping the peace." he sighs.
"I'm not sure Redgorge is much safer though. And it is much smaller."
He has a smart idea then. "I might try and find you both a better place. My old attic is not the best address in Cauldron, and climbing all those stairs.."
Kikinnin lets his thoughts drift from Reuben, to another pressing matter. Unsure about the current political dynamics afoot, the black beard lets the drink drag him over to Maavu the Walking Dead.
"Suppose the stone will wait a while longer. Why don't we head over to speak to Arlintal, before the hangman's noose takes him into the Boneyard, and we lose the chance to jaw with the Chiselman."
Kikinnin stands up and steadies himself with the table's edge. He pauses long enough to understand if they're walking straightaway to the prisoner, or if he needs to grab some shuteye before an appointment later that day, or even tomorrow. He's not worried, as Maxim's desire to see the merchant will keep them vigilant.
Jenya nods to Kikinnin "Sure. We still have some empty rooms. She can use one if she is amenable to."
Before you go the High Priestess points the temple collection box "Oh! Any donation you are willing to do for the extend of civilization in this tough region?"
Sara smiles when getting a larger room is talked about "That's a great idea JJ! I have seen a large two stories house in Obsidian Avenue! And they are asking only for 8000 suns. We can probably sell your attic for 500 suns. Mom can leave below and we can have the higher floor for us. I already spotted some nice wardrobes and a large bed. What colors would you like to paint the rooms JJ?"
Following Kikinnin's talk, after a couple of days Maxim comes back to you with an actual appointment to check with Maavu. You are ensured access to Cauldron's prison on the militia's barracks for that matter.
Ryan listens as Kikinnin and Maxim discuss the taking over of Maavu's businesses, seemingly lost in thought.
"Others businesses beyond Maavus have closed their doors. Seems for all we have done we've still taken 3 steps backward at the end of the day."
"Maxim, I'd hear your thoughts, like Ryan's offered his. You're good with Maavu's sentence? He might have understood something of Cauldron's government, and maybe he's being punished for standing up against it. Maybe he knows something about the Stormblade's death, too. What else will we be asking Maavu, when we see him?"
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Maxim pauses in thought as he first sniffs, then lights a newly acquired Sasserine stogie;
"Good question bror. I ain't got no love nor pity for Arlintal... However don't necessarily agree on what's occurred to have him languishin' in the clinker, but better him than any o' us I reckon..."
He takes a puff and grins to himself;
"Lil' Miss was here I'd be takin' an elbow to the ribs fir such selfish talk. Taskerhill don't understand the... intricacies o' business... Opportunity an' timing is everything. Not all them closed traders had the connections, nor the market that Arlintel had. Hence my interest an' ergo the interest o' my Uncle in securin' his slice - legal like. Odd that a decorated cudgelite don't see that, him being the almighty god o' trade an' such... but I digress."
The gun-mage nods in appreciation - though if it is for the cigar, or his own words, you cannot tell.
"Plan on asking him about the weasel's death. 'Bout the circumstances o' his capture. The play o' the Chisellers in all this. End game is two fold: We spring him legally, then whoever put him in there will either make a play against us, or take a more... lethal... attempt to remove Arlintel. Might expose more o' our shadowy foe - with Arlintel as bait. The price he'll pay o' his business interests are the froth on the beer."
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JJ pales. Chasing undead demons through the abyss? Not a problem. Vampires beneath the city? Bread and Butter; Assassin guard-leaders who lure him out of his armor - piece of cake; Hot Succubi - well, he's a red blooded lad.
But picking out wardrobes and ... colours for his bedroom? JJ stammers for a moment. Marigold must be trying to contact me... he thinks desperately. But no more signal from his little sister is forthcoming.
"Umm... what are your favourite colours Sara? I'm all for having a look at the place though. Umm... wouldn't your mother mind us.. umm.. you know.." he blushes a little.
"Oh! Blue is quite in fashion right now. What do you think? I can look for arrangement talk with the owner" Sara blushes too at the thought JJ is picturing she smiles and plays to curl one of JJ's blonde locks "Well, she would not care if... we were married..."
As convened, the group gathers the next day for the appointment at Cauldron's prison. The town's barracks are bustling with their usual activity and you are received by Skylar Krewis "Good morning Watchers" the sergeant smiles to you in recognizance "Thanks again for saving me during the riots. I am happy to see you are back at Cauldron" then checking some notes and calling a half-orc with a bunch of keys on his belt he adds "You really have good connections at town. Maavu is appointed for judgement in just a week, he would not normally receive any visits. Please Holg, take the Watchers to check with Arlintal"
After perhaps a bit of talk with Skylar, the half-orc jailer guides you through the subterranean complex below the building. He guides you with an ever-burning torch piercing the darkness. The jails are full of people that watch at you with intimidating glares. After some minutes walk the jailer stops in front of a barred room "Here" he turns the key on the keyhole and the door lazily opens. Inside you find a skinny and tattered Maavu. He barely seems to recognize you.
"I will wait outside. Don't stay long" after you are all inside the jail with Maavu, Holg closes behind makes a few steps and wait, the torch still casting some light, enough to see Maavu's battered face.
Maxim enters the cell, eyes drawn to the shell of the man who verbally sparred with the gun-mage in the past;
"Mornin' Arlintel. You seen better days I reckon. Hospitality ain't to your usual standards neither I reckons?"
While the dwarf's tone is not mocking, neither is it sympathetic.
"Come fir a chat. You know the rest o' The Watchers...'
He pauses waiting for the others present to enter.
Before heading to the jail
Ryan takes some time after his morning rituals to attempt to contact Marigold. Preparing the ritual he sends.
Sending
{we're in Cauldron, lots of change. Storm Blades lost Todd. Hope all is well, we interrogate Maavu later today. any questions?}
Ryan will pass on anything Marigold sends back.
At the jail
Ryan appreciates the small talk by the sergeant but for the most part remains quiet, comparing the jail of today with the one he visited what seems like a lifetime ago but was only a few short months ago
entering the jail, Ryan nods to Maavu "Any final words of repentance MAster Merchant, it appears your time is growing short"
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"Oh! Any donation you are willing to do for the extend of civilization in this tough region?"
Kikinnin nods obediently. "Thank you, Revered Jenya. For all my selfish goals, it's good to be reminded of the big picture." Kikinnin roots for his coin purse, and pulls from it seven platinum rings, seven being a good dwarven number, then produces the entirety of his copper stars.
He looks to Jenya to understand if she's pleased.
"Jenya, I fear dark times ahead. I won't always be here, based in Cauldron, as my travels have proven, time and again. If you would be a kind of... well... aunt, to Gemma here, I'd be much obliged. If she's amenable to the friendship, of course." Kikinnin looks at Gemma, with a very familiar look of beseech.
"I don't know how to protect you all, but I trust Abadar to guide my Axe, against those who would threaten our way of life. Keep your eyes and ears open. We must be vigilant, always. Until we break our adversaries' backs, we can not know true peace." Kikinnin nods a small bow to Jenya, and gives his Lillesøster a hug, before departing to meet up with the others.
...
"Plan on asking him about the weasel's death. 'Bout the circumstances o' his capture. The play o' the Chisellers in all this. End game is two fold: We spring him legally, then whoever put him in there will either make a play against us, or take a more... lethal... attempt to remove Arlintel. Might expose more o' our shadowy foe - with Arlintel as bait. The price he'll pay o' his business interests are the froth on the beer."
Kikinnin listens stoically to his bror's words, only because his mind's reached the saturation of decent whiskey, and when he speaks next, he'll need to throttle the volume of his voice. From experience, of course.
"I don't understand. He's been arrested for good cause, and stands before the Law. You think otherwise? Guess we'll hear his side of the story when we see him."
...
"Come fir a chat. You know the rest o' The Watchers..."
Kikinnin nods respectfully at Skylar for ushering them to Maavu's cell. As the door is opened for the Watchers, the black beard bristles at the thought of actually entering the cell. So he doesn't. As Skylar walks away, Kikinnin stands outside the cell, and lets the door close behind the last of the Watchers, and he takes a position advantageous to watch the goings on and listen to the exchange between merchants. He reckons he'll speak through the bars when he's asked his opinion, or his opinion asks to be heard.
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Balanced precariously on a rocky outcropping, Marigold very nearly slips and falls as Ryan's words echo in her mind without any real warning. As she conjures a brilliant rainbow bridge to make passage easier she replies,
"L-Lots. But they c-can wait until I s-see you again. Watch for t-traps, we fight better than we p-politic. Keep me updated as you c-can."
Her reply sent, Marigold feels the magic of the sending fade from her mind. A worried frown creases her face.
Todd dead and Maavu involved somehow? What's going on?
Among the well known criminals of Cauldron, you also spot a couple of artisans. Likely people who rejected paying taxes.
Jenya nods pleased "The prosperity of the city will reward you my loyal Kikinnin"
The High Priestess nods "If this is something she wants to pursue, Abadar will protect her. These are becoming indeed ones of the darkest times in Cauldrons story Kikinnin. Your axe is indeed more important for the prosperity of our city today than any of its businesses"
The sending is clear and so is the response.
Maavu tilts his head up to look at you all when Maxim exhorts him to remember the Watchers. Arlintal looks at Maavu with tired eyes "It had not been me the government would had found a different rabbit to throw the guiltiness to. I was just trying for the best of Cauldron's people, but this city is lost to corruption, and its trying to leave its peoples without freedom. Shackled"
Maxim nods slowly to himself as he mulls Maavu's words;
"Appreciate the candour Arlintel, an' the ironic pun. You say corruption? I would ask ye fir proof o' that... No need to name folk, jus' if you know somethin' a simple yes'll suffice fir now."
The dour shoots a look outside the cell to where both his bror and Holg lurk, before continuing. The gun-mage fishes out a series of parchments from his scroll case.
"Before you answer consider also these... Deeds fir handin' o'er ownership o' your assets an' business interests to myself an' my Uncle. There's a bunch of places to sign off, so... take yer time an' consider things proper before makin' your mark."
:
Maxim is trying to convey that Maavu should give basic responses to their questions but write key information on the deed papers
He then produces a quill and pot of ink;
"Have a read. All legal like. Church o' the Cudgelites drafted it up. Divinely verified you might say."
The bars separating Kikinnin from the others isn't enough to obscure his sight, as the blond beard produces papers, and begins petitioning the prisoner for something of business.
"Maxim. We're here to understand the corruption. Get to that." Kikinnin places a hand on the bars. "Put your papers away, and speak on Cauldron's woes."
Maxim shoots his bror a hard look and quick words in their shared tongue;
"Bror, stol på mig. Arlintel vil give os sin viden, og ikke opmærksom på, at gris står over for brutte, der lurker. Lad ham give os hemmeligheder under dæmpning af grådighed."
"Bror, trust me. Arlintel will give us up his knowledge, and not alert that pig faced brute who lurks. Let him gift us secrets under the guise of greed."
Kikinnin returns the hard stare, though his lasts a little longer, without answering immediately. When he does, he speaks few words, briskly.
"Ok. Snakk sakte. Han forstår kanskje ikke."
"Alright. Speak slow. He might not understand."
Well, that is one way to get a family I suppose. But... so young? And with the city in this state, and me away so much is that even fair?
"I guess I hadn't really thought about it. I mean, I'm an orphan with no real prospects. And live a somewhat... dangerous.. life style." he admits with candour.
He gives Sara an appraising look, "I mean are you sure you mean me?" he asks with unusual honesty.
"And don't I have to ask Tessa's permission first or something? Oh gods, this is what fathers are supposed to tell their sons. I've got absolutely no good role model about how to be a husband." he adds wide eyed, suddenly overcome with doubts.
The jailer seems distracted with Kikinnin "Calm down there, you either stay in or out" and does not notice Maxim's intentions.
Maavu seems to understand but he shakes his head in frustration "What other prove do you need but what happened in Redgorge or on the Stormblades attack?" despite that he takes the quill and writes down something in the scroll.
Help me. Bring my spellbook so I can prepare spells and escape in gaseous form. They will kill me otherwise.
Sara looks back at JJ nervous "Was... was it not your intention?" the girl coils back "Well... I... I was not meaning right now..."
Maxim eyes the merchant with a steely gaze.
"We know what occurred Arlintel. Reckon we need to know why... So anything you recollect could be useful to us... Thoughts. Suspicions an' the like.. We're keen to hear it."
The gun-mage taps the deed papers theatrically, for Holg's benefit more than naught else;
"That's right Arlintel. Sign there an' there iffin' you please..."
The dwur reads Maavu's writing with a frown;
"Might be possible to accommodate any preferences you have also. Will depend on how cooperative y'are."
"Calm down there, you either stay in or out."
Kikinnin looks down on his feet planted squarely in front of the cell door, before looking up at Holg, and shrugging. "Fair enough. You have a right to be wary, for what you keep behind these rods of metal. I'll remain outside, but beg your pardon, if I throw words into the conversation taking place within. I have no love for prison cells."
The jailer relaxes his stance still staring at Kikinnin.
"I suspect things aren't all as they seem with the rulers of the city. How can I be cooperative enough?" Maavu stares beaten at Maxim "The discontent still grows within Cauldron. See the changes at the city guard, with all the half-orcs and their commander, this Zarn Kyass. Is Terseon Skellerang still really leading the guard?"
Arlintal's look at Maxim is the one of a defeated man, his questions thrown as a last outage more than any kind of challenge "Many of Cauldron's residents have moved away and a great deal more seem to be considering such a move. And you know the dangers travel posses to the common folk..." the man swallows but it seems to be of no help for his difficulty talking "Conditions must be bad indeed within the city for anyone to consider a dangerous an expensive relocation like that"
Ryan listens to the back and forth between Maxim and Maa'vu.
"Arlintal, you've painted a poor picture of Cauldron and a bleak future for our town. If it were within your power where would you focus your time to restore order to Cauldron and allow her to prosper once more?"
Kikinnin listens with mild interest to Maxim and Ryan plying Maavu for a deeper meaning to the unrest in Cauldron. Kikinnin lends a word when Ryan questions the merchant.
"They say merchants have a finger on the pulse of their markets. If folk are abandoning the city, are you going to fixing to leave town, if they find you innocent?"
"Well.. To be honest, I'm not really too sure what my intentions are. I mean we are both real young. You've probably got a better idea about how to do the family thing than I do. I don't recall my parents, and grew up in an orphanage... It was not a bad place, but"
He sighs.
"I've always wanted a family, I guess because it was the big thing I didn't have. Everyone else seems to have them, and enjoy being settled into respectable jobs. But I'm just a... well... I don't really have a reliable job. "
He shakes he head. "Cauldron is my home. It is the home of my forefathers. But at the moment, it doesn't feel like it is a very safe place for a young family. And I do want to keep you and Tessa safe. When I suggested you come here, it was because it was what I knew and seemed safer than a baboon infested jungle. But now I feel a bit as if I've let you both down."
You feel like Arlintal is desperate and will not hide anything to you. He would do whatever is needed.
"If I was you, I would look for the means to derail current government and substitute it for one which really cares about the city people instead of having their own agenda" Maavu sighs beaten "That's the first thing before anything else can be done"
Maxim's indifference begins to shift toward frustration as Maavu seems set on painting a dystopian future for Cauldron while also attempting to secure his own freedom.
"Arlintel, you an' the Chisellers painted themselves as rebels, and underground saviours. Ain't seein' that defiance here, just a man scrabblin' to survive."
He pauses, mulling his next question;
"Now I understand yer predicament. Jailed an' facin' certain death. Quite the pickle."
The gun-mage eyes flash with a sense of guile;
"Say someone was mullin' takin' the incumbent Government to task. Might be an escaped murderer an' merchant-mage would cause enough distraction in the city... Searchin' high an' low, while these unnamed rebels take their shot..."
"Arlintel, is there anyone in the present government that you would trust?"
"I would not trust any of them" Maavu negates with the face "Look what they have done to the Stormblades. Do you really trust they were trying to kill me? No, I was there, their intention was not to kill me. And those were not any members of the Chisel trying to save me. Undeads? No that is not the style of the Chisel. They were trying to kill the Stormblades despite they had been doing as the government has directed them." Maavu shakes his head once more "No, none of them are to trust"
Looking at Maxim's hesitation Maavu whispers in a lower tone "If you are not going to help, let Oliron Masht where exactly I am. Give the Foreman details enough for my rescue."
"The trial will be in a week. Just one more week of life. My time is running short quickly" the man sobs in frustration.
With the merchant's pronouncement of a time frame, the black beard beckons his companions to finish the conversation. "Sounds like we have all the intelligence we're going to get out of Maavu. There are grave matters to attend, so we should take our leave, and hear what Vhalantru has to say on such things."
From Kikinnin's tone of voice, it's clear that he understands little of what Maxim seeks, truly, out of Maavu. He figures they'll clear up things when they're absent from the prison.
Maxim eyes the rival merchant as he digests his words;
"For once I agree with you Arlintel. Trust no one. Been sayin' such for some time now. We're all puppets..."
His bror's words provide impetus, and he nods to himself before answering Maavu in a low voice;
"I'll pass on the information to the Chisellers. Just sign the deeds an' we're done..."
"You rat. You would profit from a desperate man, eh? How do I know you will ever tell them? Give me back my book and I will sign here and now" Maavu gathers up all his remaining resolve to face up Maxim.
Maxim flashes a wry smile;
"Surely iffin' I were a rat, my bror there'd be hunting me. As fir you being desperate. Was you that threw yerself in with them Chisellers, an' acted like an agent provocateur."
He leans forward to tap the deed papers theatrically;
:
"Reckon we all get what we deserve. Speakin' o' which: sign an' well leave you to your salubrious accommodation; we've a life of freedom to enjoy."
Maxim skillfully drops Maavu's spellbook over the rags of his bed and pushes it with a feet to concealed below without noticing the jailer.
"I fear for my clients if they have to deal with such a tough dealer for now on" the merchant prisoner takes the quill once more and signs all the deed papers the dwarf presents him with "You have to know though my properties have suffered abundant damage after the Umberhulk attack, the riots and all the search performed by the government"
"At least this is for the best, to know it would not lay there in ruins, or finish up on the hands of the government associates" with that Maavu gives you farewell and sits over his bed with mixed feelings.
The jailer invites you to get out of the jail and takes you out of the Cauldron barracks.
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Maxim takes the deeds in exchange for the book with a curt nod;
"Fixer uppers are fine, means I can put my own... mark on 'em."
He then eyes the rival mage and merchant one last time;
"For once I can surely say its been a pleasure don' business Arlintel... Hope you contemplate yer sins an' turn o'er a new page afore the end comes."
Tucked inside the final page Maavu will find a Scroll of Dimension Door. Maxim claimed the scroll for copying into his own book, but felt it better suited in assisting the framed wizard attempt his own escape...
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Ryan watches as Maxim passes the merchant-mage schooling his own features to maintain his silence. When the papers are signed and put away, Ryan will exit the cell and follow the others out.
Later
"So now what"
Kikinnin keeps quiet as the Watchers depart the Barracks. He also keeps quiet while the Watchers wend their way back to the Tipped Tankard for a repast to steel their bellies for the afternoon activities, whatever that may turn out to be.
When the food is brought out to the table, and the first pour is downed, only then does Kikinnin speak up.
"So, Maavu. Did he give us any actionable information, Bror? You two were scribbling away, you're only lucky that Holg failed to understand what was taking place. I caught snippets of your conversation, but I'd appreciate your take on the affair, Maxim."
The beef stew is filling, and the black beard goes so far as to adjust the straps on the side of his armor to accommodate the increased girth of his belly.
"We should visit with Vhalantru, get his perspective. You say he's become something more, eh, Protector of Cauldron in place of the governors? Sounds like a power grab. Folks don't usually give up power, once they have it. Unless they think it's more of a curse to be rid of."
Maxim takes a seat, knocking back a shot, then gesturing for another in quick succession;
"He weren't too forthcomin' with naught but veiled doomsayer comments an' such. His suggestions o' a conspiracy at the upper echelons o' Cauldron ain't a surprise to us, as we've been played by all sides at all levels by my reckonin'. Rightly he pointed toward the exodus o' its folk, the half-orcer guards brought in to maintain order an' now his own framin' - an outspoken critic o' the regime."
The gun-mage grimaces as he downs the second shot, then continues with his thoughts;
"Set him up with his spell-book and a scroll. My notion is iffin' he's on the loose, then folks attention will be on him. Will allow us to investigate without attractin' too much focus on own actions."
He eyes the pages of papers, thumbing through the signed business deeds and pushing Maavu's notes across the others;
"Arlintal stated that he don't trust any o' the city's government. This here is what he wrote... word's o' a desperate man."
Help me. Bring my spellbook so I can prepare spells and escape in gaseous form. They will kill me otherwise.
Maxim leans back eyeing the rest of his companions;
"Question is... Who can we trust?"
"Outside of ourselves not very many" Ryan grouses from his side of the table.
"Maavu, didn't trust anyone in the current government leading Cauldron, however we should at least make an appearance before Vhalantru and gauge what we see for ourselves."
reaching out Ryan grasp the edge of Maxim's cloak, "You still going to let me work on this for you?"
Maxim nods in agreement, first with the plan, then in acknowledgement of Ryan's own proposed crafting.
"Aye... Would be appreciated Taskerhill... Likewise the work would be reciprocated should any o' our gracious company wish their weapons or armour to be enchanted."
Kikinnin reads over Maavu's missive, then pushes it back to Maxim for safekeeping. "So, if we try to see it through Maavu's eyes, someone was targeting the Stormblades, and Maavu got caught up in the attack. If we hadn't tripped off to Occipitus, that could have been us returning Arlintal. Suppose it would do us well to up our paranoia for a while longer."
The black beard leans forward, and swaps one of Maxim's shots for one of his own, before swigging the jigger back. "You find the time to magick my Axe or Shield deeper, I'll gladly cover the cost." Kikinnin pushes another shot in Ryan's direction.
"If you're steeling cloaks, I'll also consider the cost, alongside Maxim's crafting. I'd be much obliged."
Kikinnin stabs a chunk of beef, and tucks it into his left cheek. It doesn't discourage him from talking further. "Ryan, you thinking Vhalantru's less honorable for his new position? Maybe we ask Jenya what she thinks, before we head back to Vhalantru's office. We should probably all go over together. Just in case."
The black beard waves his fork, with a new piece of potato skewered upon it. "Maybe we should bite our tongues, and go find us a Stormblade or two to question about that attack. See if Maavu is speaking truth."
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JJ, having caught up with the watchers after their trip to the prison nods his head to Kikinnin.
"They'll be hurting, but this is bigger than any rivalry between us. And they have a lot of connections. If anyone knows what is really going on, they are bound to have an idea."
He pauses to think for a moment or two. "And lets face it, their families have more to lose than gain if there is a big shake-up... or shake-down... about to go down."
Ryan answers Kikinnin "In the kaleidoscope of changes affecting Cauldron, Vhalantru seems to be one of the few who are benefiting. Sometimes I can judge better in person than from just other's observations. And as for the Stormblades one of them is my cousin so you're right JJ their families do have the most to lose or gain in a major shakeup."
Drinking the shot that Kikinnin passed him, "I can add a bit of steel to both of your cloaks as you say, it will just take some time, within the week I could help both of you out a bit but to really strengthen them it's probably a little over a week each ."
Cloak of Resistance +1 upgrade
+2 = 1500gp, 3 days
+3 = 4000gp, 8 days
Kikinnin finishes the plate with lazy swipes of bread to mop up the gravy, before tucking it away with a couple of chews. "So, looks like we have social calls lined up for Vhalantru and Ryan's cousin. I don't suppose we'll have easy access to them, so we might need to make appointments."
The black beard rinses his teeth with beer. "Ryan, I'll gladly see your work done, lightly for now. That's gonna take you some time, as will Maxim's work, both on crafting, and negotiating among his merchant connections, for the paperwork you were rustling with Maavu. I could use some time to counsel Gemma, now that she's decided to remain in Cauldron, despite the risk." Kikinnin thinks a little longer.
"Someone was bold enough to attack the Stormblades, at their full strength. I worry that for our return to Cauldron, our Watchers reputation might bring us our own trouble. We need to inform each other of our whereabouts, or better yet, accompany each other. Strength in numbers. Oddly enough, I feel more secure about Marigold and Juraan back in Occipitus. No one will reach them without her knowing. Here on the streets of Cauldron, who knows how close we are to our nemesis, in the Cagewrights."
Kikinnin finally stands, to check his equilibrium. "Where are you all off to?"
Maxim eats heartily, buoyed by the securing of Maavu's business interests.
At Ryan's offer he nods;
"Echoin' my bror here. Bolsterin' our cloaks at a slower pace will allow fir funds to be correctly allocated... 'Course once I get my teeth into Arlintel's business our coffers'll benefit accordingly."
He grins, passing Ryan a sack of coin to cover the costs before downing a short with an appreciative grimace;
"Speakin' o' craftin' I'll be addin' enchantments to bulwarks an' blades down in the Malachite o'er the next week or so. Anythin' requiring my attention jus' pop into the bag o' magical conveyance along with funds an' I'll get to smith'."
The gun-mage eyes his fellow dwur with a hard smile;
"Bror. I'll be in the Malachite by way o' Ghelve's. Reckon I'm safe enough travellin' on my lonesome, but will accept any company nonetheless. Watchin' each others backs' is a savvy play, but if they was brazen enough to target the Stormers, they'll tilt at us in numbers or not. Regardless once I'm back I'll give y'all a rustle as I'll have business matters to attend to."
He too rises, and readies for the journey to the delve as he awaits any instructions or orders from his fellow Watchers...
Kikinnin nods as Maxim plans a return to Malachite. "Just, you know, don't draw undue attention with your comings and goings at Ghelve's in case someone's watching you. Come to think of it, Gemma's and my return might have gone noticed... My mind grows weary thinking of those who might get the drop on us." The black beard looks mildly irritated with himself.
"For me, I'll keep close by St. Cuthbert's, assist Jenya where I might, and ready myself for an audience with Vhalantru, when we're all assembled."
...
Returning to St. Cuthbert's, Kikinnin looks for Gemma, and tosses her a bread bun from the Tipped Tankard. "Alright, Pebble. If I remember correctly, you knew how to find me, as something between your ears gave you the sense of it. I'm not entirely sure how to see you trained further, if you're hoping to strengthen yourself for the trouble to come. I'd suggest you consult with our priestess Jenya, in case your wisdom points you on the path of Abadar, or another equally worthy god or goddess. Or perhaps you'd like to interview at the Bluecrater? I have a decent amount of suns I could set down for you, in case tuition's a thing. I'd know your desire, and support you as best I can."
...
Kikinnin tries to keep track of JJ and Ryan, topside, and escorts them about Cauldron, should either of them move about the city. In quieter moments, the black beard uses his daily Bond to commune with his Axe, gleaning what he can from the Beyond, should anything be forthcoming. He doesn't expect much, as he's felt largely in the dark since Occipitus, and Juraan's excitement to link Adimarchus with the Cagewrights. He still remembers Kaurophon's dire warning about the power of the Cagewrights. He doesn't seek an early death, only the foresight to guide him in training for the time when he meets one of them.