"Byron, is there anything here that might aid us in dealing with the heat? Do you think you can whip something up?" Osric starts looking for something that might do for rope.
Byron looked around with a slight frown. "I'm actually working on a way to do something like that with my extracts but it's not ready yet so let's see what's here..."
"Before we leave, we still need to do something about these elan. Can't just leave them here, and flagging down another several guardsmen will be difficult in all this mist." Moving back to the main shop, he gestures at Leoni. "Can you go and flag down a few guards? I don't want to leave these ones alone."
Leoni bows to Odebie. "I will return presently, Corporal." Only a few minutes later, Leoni walks in with three ifrit guards in tow. The guards, bearing the cloud-and-flame insignia of the Steam Guard on their light armor, warily survey the warehouse. The two privates stand by the door. The corporal nods professionally toward Odebie. "Corpoal Bianchi. What's all this about? The mister didn't give us much to go on, just said there was a matter needing our attention. Normally wouldn't trust walking into a potential ambush, but Leoni's never given us trouble before."
"Odebie, Corporal from the Dims." He offers her his hand. "I have almost a half dozen here guilty of assaulting either each other or a Watchman, but I'm chasing a lead and don't have time to bring them in. Would you and yours mind taking them away?"
Bianchi surveys the two oread thugs, the undine Gasper, and the twitchy ifrit, nodding. "Si, seems like your run-of-the-forge teppisti ..." He frowns when he sees the owner. "Signora Toselli? Surely she wasn't part of this assault, except as a victim?"
As Osric ties up their prisoners, he lines up their belongings. He makes a point of placing Gasp paraphernalia front and center. He works quietly, letting Odebie do the talking.
"Signora Toselli? Surely she wasn't part of this assault, except as a victim?"
"Unfortunately she was; she sicced two pogonas on me while I was questioning her." He indicates the gash on his leg. "However, she was quite helpful after they were dead."
Bianchi shrugs, obviously a little uncomfortable. "Well, I haven't made it this far in life by distrusting a brother in arms. We'll take them in for you." And with that, there is simply the four of you, two smelly pogona corpses, and a warehouse of flowers.
"To the dead-drop then, unless anyone has better idea? I don't like the idea of the heat, but I think I can stand it."
"I might be able to help with that though I'll need a bit of time to brew some tea and won't we need something to be picked up at the dead drop or the person won't stop and we won't know its them."
The way I see it we either:
Mark the drop as ready, and wait and ambush whoever checks it and get them to talk.
Set the drop up with whatever it would have normally and tail the person that visits it to follow the trail up.
Both have their dangers and benefits, I'm not sure what's best - though I'm not sure we have anyone with the perception/stealth to competently tail someone?
You all partake of Byron's yellow yarrow tea, which tastes faintly of lemons and wax. The taste lingers. As you exit the warehouse, you all feel a marked difference - though the temperature and humidity are still stifling, it nevertheless feels much more tolerable than before.
Following the ifrit's directions, Leoni guides you west, towards the Steam Bridge. Away from Garden Street, the name "Steam Slums" quickly becomes a very appropriate moniker. Cobblestones give way to damp earth and weeds. Through the steam, you see glimpses of rotting wooden walls, vine-covered lean-tos, and sagging mud houses. Sullen ifrits glare at you, marking your movements with sneering faces. None approach you, and Leoni does not seem worried.
After less than half a candle a candle of walking, River's roar grows loud, despite the muffling of the mist. The sound seems to come from all around, adding to the sensory confusion of the gray sameness that surrounds you.
Leoni speaks for the first time in several minutes. He points to a narrow gap between two mildew-coated buildings. "Ah, my uncle used to frequent the brothel down that scenic view. He informed me as a young lad it was a happy medium between price and cleanliness. Although one could not always trust his judgement about either of those virtues." Without transition, he says, "I humbly suggest we rest for a few moments across the street. More's the pity, there is no illegitimate entertainment to be had, but I believe we would all appreciate a bit of rehydration, yes?" He opens the door to a squat stone building with a sign that seems to be a blue circle.
Inside the dim interior are damp stone benches and tables, an elderly barkeep, and an ifrit that is either sleeping or passed out at the bar. It smells like a wet cave with a faint whiff of urine. Leoni says, "Water only signor, it is far too early for whatever your other patron is having."
Taking you to a bench far from the bar, he quietly says, "The alley we passed is the dead-drop. I thought it wise not to stop and gawk, as it may be watched."
"Thank you. It's probably best if Fiordelise marks the drop; she's the least conspicuous in this heat."
"Inconspicious is... well not something I've a talent for, but I will endevour to try for you. Just remember I have a date tonight - as much as I'd rather be here, or just about anywhere else, v'Marco's just powerful enough to make my life even more awkward if I don't show."
"It's probably best if I stay out of sight I'm not exactly good at staying inconspicuous," Byron admits.
"The same, my uniform is too distinctive and I can't see in this mist anyway." Stretching, Odebie goes to the bar and comes back with some tankards of weak ale.
Unless Byron can rig something to explode when it opens ;-) i think we we just act like we're putting something in and leave a mark.
You scratch a mark in the mildew after making the motion of dropping something into the hole. Only a few moments later, you hear a loud, obnoxious whistling. Out of the mist comes none other than Lorenzo, the Gasp-user that fled from Osric last night at the Plucked Vulture. He appears not to have noticed you yet.
Fiordelise hears the whistling, but the swirling mist close to the river hides Lorenzo from view until he is almost on her. With a mix of adrenaline and renewed annoyance Fiordelise lunges at him from her place of concealment.
"Lorenzo, we really have to stop meeting like this, people will start to talk" She says the last with a grim smile, barely concealing the anger behind it (and also loudly enough that the others will hopefully hear it).
Odebie hears a sound he is all too familiar with - the clash of sword and armor.
"Guess they showed up already." Osric hops up and hurries out into the fog, drawing his sword as he goes.
Again...
Pulling out his hammer, Odebie runs out to the alley.
"That was awfully fast," Byron comments as he follows the others.
Before Lorenzo becomes truly aware of the danger, he is surrounded by four unhappy elens. His blurry eyes widen as they focus on Fiordelise. ""Aspetta, ragazza! I mean, uh, signora!" He directs a merda-eating grin toward all of you. "All friends here, right? No harm done last night, si?"
"Harm done. We have questions, and since you're here it looks like you have answers."
"Well, Speak Friend, you are here for the drop, where do you take it from here?"
In a sudden flash of insight, Osric realizes that Lorenzo showing up so soon after your own drop is a little too convenient. Given Lorenzo's dazed look, it is likely that whoever is watching the drop sent him as a decoy to draw out the strangers who were using the drop.
"Merda, Idiota! Fiordelise hisses, "I took the bait like a fool, I hope I've not cost us this trail"
Fiordelise looks around, but her perception is marred by frustration.
"Leoni, where else can we be seen from?"
Leoni speaks quickly, his habitual calm exterior ruffled. "They must be watching from the far side of the alley, Osric. I can see that the alley continues straight through to the adjacent street. I do not see anyone, but they are likely hiding."
Snorting once at this new development, Odebie peers through the mist. Unable to see anything, he makes to cross the alley and get a closer look.
"I was wondering maybe they employ a mister too they'd almost have to to work here," Byron states, but he doesn't move yet.
You all run down the long, narrow alley. As you are about to emerge onto the street, three arrows fly out of the mist. Two find their mark in Leoni, who falls to the ground, gasping. One arrow lies in his chest, the other is buried deep in his right knee. Leoni is conscious, but groaning in pain.
You hear the sound of running footsteps, and a few of you see shadows in the steam, fleeing to your left.
Osric kneels beside Leoni watching the shadows disappear into the mists. "This is bad. Lungs' people just broke Mister neutrality. They've declared open war. We can't follow them now."
Osric sighs, "However, we may be able to use this to our advantage."
Fiordelise kneels beside him "I assume you don't mind if I..." Fiordelise reaches over to heal Leoni.
Byron, trailing behind far enough he just barely caught what happened, breaks into a sprint to catch up. He nods as Fiordelise works.
"Yes, good, but we have to make sure they don't try to finish the job after all if there are no witnesses left alive no one can reveal what happened."
He pauses a moment. "How far did they shoot from could anyone other than a Mister have seen from where they fired they must at least have a Mister with them."
"No way to tell." Bending over, Odebie picks up Leoni and carries him into the inn. "We need to stay in cover, they could still be out there. With all this mist, we're well and truly trapped."