Donagar moves to an open space......
Donagar calls out instructions...
"Stand up tha wounded an make a circle round me, in all directions, I only has a precious few more channels left one dose per person then time ken heals yah to full!"
Who knows maybe a dogpile of people will work even better.....
Assuming my allies will aid the wounded in getting to the crowd and keep the uninjured out of the way.....
Drakus slams the butt of his Bardiche on the ground.
He bellows in his parade ground voice; "YOU HEARD THE DWARF! MAKE A CIRCLE! MAKE ROOM FOR EVERYBODY!"
"Enough."
The word is quietly spoken, but it carries - perhaps amplified by the visored helmet, perhaps simply because of who the speaker is.
The armoured figure you saw earlier guarding one of the streets walks effortlessly through the crowd, people flinching away from her path. It seems that these Gray Maidens are already developing something of a reputation.
Showing no sign that she has even noticed the crowd's fear of her - or even noticed the crowd's existence - the warrior looks at the four of you. Her gaze takes in your dishevelled appearance (marred by spending several hours underwater!) but she makes no comment: it would seem that you are not the strangest thing she has seen recently. She speaks again, her quiet voice carrying clearly:
"You are required elsewhere - others can do the healing. The city has been attacked by were-rats; they have killed many, but we have dispersed them. Their leader has fled and I have been awaiting reinforcements in order to follow him. You will come with me, please."
It is - barely - a request; more of an order.
"Surely we shall come with yah, though both I am mah friends are weary an in need o rest."
"Let me put this away."
Donagar then channels positive energy into those who had managed to get in place.....
Channel positive energy
Then acting as if nothing happened he nods to the maiden to lead the way......
Drakus' eyes narrowed as he briefly considered disobeying the order; the Grey Maiden was presumptuous assuming her orders superseded their own.
But... until Field Marshal Croft said otherwise, they had the legal authority.
"Yes ma'am!" He simply barked as he snapped a salute and followed.
Drakus' salute is acknowledged with a brief dip of the head in return. Green eyes survey you all from behind the armoured helm.
"Group-Leader Arianne, formally requisitioning you, Sergeant, and your companions. I appreciate your cooperation."
"The ... thing we are pursuing is of a man-like appearance, with a rat's head. It is considered to be armed and extremely dangerous: it and its companions have dispatched four of my group, although taking losses themselves. They have used wands, magical weaponry and alchemists' fire and it would appear that they have been preparing for this assault for quite some time."
"Their overall strategy has not been clear and it may simply be to kill and maim as many as possible before their eventual defeat. Nevertheless, we should endeavour to take one alive; thus far that has proved not to be possible. However, no undue risks are to be taken as we have suffered heavy casualties already. I believe at least one third of the City Guard are either dead or too badly wounded to continue serving Her Majesty."
Civilian casualties appear not to warrant a mention...
"Any questions?"
Mai replies, with a subtly hint of sarcasm.
"I'm assuming the concerns are to evacuate any non-combatants from the area, unless there are other orders concerning the civilians, Ma'am."
"No questions Ma'am!"
"I generally work with Field marshall Croft, if you could aid in getting official word to her and official orders back it is possible some or all of us may be needed on another front. Tactically we do not have tha big picture. It turns out were more useful know'n whats happenin an informin o where we ken do tha most damage."
Mai's sarcasm is wasted on the armoured figure, who responds with a shrug of her shoulders:
"The surest way to take the noncombatants out of danger is to kill the danger. As for Field Marshall Croft -" here the Gray Maiden glances at Donagar - "she is currently unaccounted for. In any event, I think it unlikely that she would have time for the like of you at present."
With that, Group Leader Arianne stalks off, clearly expecting you to follow...
Drakus shrugs at the others and marches off behind Arianne.
I'm available either way. I vote for one flavor/fluff, then get to the fight!
Gregor merely lifts an eyebrow at the Grey Maiden's assessment of when and where the Field Marshal will make time for them, but there's no sense in trying to convince her of that. "She is right, our best defense of the citizens is to remove the greater danger. Sadly, the injuries of the masses is not the biggest threat. Let the churches and physicians tend the sick and hurt, we are best used as the Korvosan Guard we are, removing the source of the danger in the first place." He keeps his words vague enough to also encompass their duty to find the source of the plague, without giving as much information to the Grey Maiden.
"Whats up her arse?"
Mai jokingly adds
"So anyone got a jumbo sized box of Rat poison and jumbo sized rat traps or do we have to do this the hard way?"
Trailing behind in Arianne's wake, you follow her through the Square and along Hospitallers' Way. This route - if you take the next left - is the way back to your home and lodgings; and your beds...
Arianne walks past the turning without seemingly noting it; you - however reluctantly - must postpone your appointment with sleep for a little while longer.
There is very little sign of the frantic, terrifying struggle and slaughter that must have taken place only some hours earlier; hunting for a monster among these middle- to upper-class dwellings seems somehow unlikely. The air itself seems to be busy and prosperous, almost as though the inhabitants of this part of town breathe affluence and riches. Certainly, the reassuring feel of paving beneath your feet and the wide avenue feels considerably more comfortable than the narrow, muddy streets of the shanty towns you left behind earlier.
Then it dawns on you.
Where earlier on, you saw almost every door in the slums was marked with the sign of the plague - and of deaths - here, the markings are almost entirely absent. It is clear that good health and access to the Church of Abadar's healing magics will count for much, but is it really the explanation for why this plague has inflicted so much more hurt on the poor (mainly Varisian) underclass?
Arianne walks inexorably on; almost as if she knows exactly where her foe lurks and is going directly there.
As Arianne strides inexorably onward, red hair trailing in her wake (followed closely by you), you see where she is heading toward: an entrance into the sewers.
That is, you can see it as an entrance; someone - or something - else appears to have seen it as an exit. More precisely, they have made it into an exit.
"This is where the scum burst out into the city." Arianne has been silent for so long, it is almost a surprise that she speaks at all, much less something that was in fact obvious to even an unaware viewer.
She speaks again, more softly this time:
"And this is where we hunt them to ground and destroy them. I will be avenged for my losses."
No mention, you can't help noticing, of the civilian casualties inflicted.
"So they came from there, attacked an ran back in tha hole?"
"Didn't seem they was losin, how many came out?"
The Gray Maiden glances at Donagar as if she had almost forgotten he were there.
"Numbers are not clear: they scattered as soon as they emerged, thus to split our own numbers and cause most panic - and devastation. Estimates are of some dozen or so. They retreated because our own forces, once mustered, were superior in number and able to organise and cut them down. No doubt even now however, they lurk down there thinking to ambush us as we seek them."
"I have no doubt that we have a fight on our hands."
Arianne seems almost to relish the prospect of further combat; her blade - already caked in semi-dried gore and fur - twitches in her hand, almost involuntarily...
"Late to the game, Group-Leader. I have secured the area below. The were-rats are dead; they tried to fight and lost. Those who tried to flee I have pursued."
A very familiar figure emerges from the wreckage of the sewer entrance, blinking slightly in the daylight.
Field Marshal Croft, still (just!) recognisable despite the filth - and worse - smeared across her;
Field Marshal Croft, face bleeding from fresh wounds, armour wrecked (those of a keen eye will note that it appears to have been gnawed on);
Field Marshal Croft, limping: something has made a serious attempt to chew through her left leg at the thigh;
Field Marshal Croft, followed by half a dozen of the City Guard, in a similar condition to her.
Field Marshal Croft again addresses the Gray Maiden:
"I suggest, Group-Leader, that you relinquish your escort back to me, now that you have no further need of them."
The situation is probably not helped by Croft's barely-concealed disdain (verging on contempt) in the way she addresses the Gray Maiden.
Drakus crashes to a stop and assumes the 'Attention' position.
"Field Marshall yer a sight fer sore eyes!"
"Is this all yer people?"
Gathers them all up and throws out his last channel
"Were is sad shape ourselves."
"At ease, Sergeant. It's good to see you again; I could have done with you and your comrades back there."
Croft addresses you directly, ignoring the Gray Maiden altogether, waiting for her to take the hint and leave. She looks you over with a critical eye, noting the silt and sand in your hair and clothing - and the odd bit of seaweed.
"Having said that, it looks as if your little group has had almost as interesting a time of it as I have."
She acknowledges Donagar's question with a curt nod.
"Yes, I lost nine men in that hellhole of a sewer. Gods know how many Guard I have lost over the last 12 hours - or civilians, poor devils. First plague and then this!"
Croft closes her eyes as Donagar's healing magic washes over her. "My thanks."
"Aren't Field Marshalls superior to any Group-Leader, even those groups made by the Queen?
Gregor snaps to attention and salutes with Drakus, relaxing as she bids him to do so. As she requests, and Pai responds, he makes and adjustment. "Well, Pai, it is not quite as simple as who is 'superior'. All forces tend to have established fields within which they command. A general of an army may not have authority over the commander of the guard when within the commander's city, but the commander has no say when on the field of battle. Though technically the Field Marshal has greater 'authority' over how we are used, the word superiority assumes a subjective measurement, the group-leader would have specific authority under particular instances. As the Queen's personal forces, they would have it typically when direct duress is threatening the Queen herself."
He takes a breath and adds, "Though the group-leader could push the issue, it could produce a conflict of interests in both parties and lead to further political squabbling over one minor instance of the question of authority. In turn this will only keep even more of both the Korvosan Guard and the Grey Maidens from doing their real jobs. This is something than none of us want, so it's usually just best to drop these minor instances of whether the Field Marshal can assume command of her own forces. It's just smoother that way."
Despite plying his words carefully, Gregor makes it clear that they could turn this into a big to do, but it would accomplish nothing and possibly get the Grey Maiden in trouble with her superiors for dragging it out.
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Drakus twitches on hearing Gregor's spiel.
Dang, He thought, That's Officer speachifyin' if ever I heard it...
Group-Leader Arianne's green eyes flick over each one of you, before the Gray Maiden turns to face Croft.
She gives the very briefest of nods, as if just barely recognising the Field Marshal's authority.
"Thank you for your continued endeavours in the Queen's service, Field Marshal. The Queen is grateful. I release these ... troops into your care."
Her gaze again sweeps across you.
"Mayhap we shall encounter one another again."
With that, the Gray Maiden stalks off, leaving you all behind.
"As a visitor tha whole chain o command thing round here is way off from tha way dwarves goes bout it."
"If I knew dwarven chain of command, I'd likely agree with you. And if one were to review the whole chain of command here, they'd likely need a drink to stop the headache."
"No plan lives through tha first contact wit tha enemy, so dwarves follow tha commands o tha most experienced dwarf they ken see err hear tellin em what's what; no pause no confusion just flat out kickin ass!"
The Field Marshal raises an eyebrow as she overhears Donagar and Mai's exchange. "That sounds most confusing, Dwarf - I assure you that no enemy has lived through the first contact with plans..."
"Now, I deduce from your appearance that you have indeed undertaken the search of which we spoke and I very much want to know what you have found. However, I need to first make sure that order is restored - both among my Guard and among the city in general. This is likely to take a week, so you are at liberty until I send for you then. Do try not to upset too many people, or draw too much attention to yourselves."
This last is said with an air of resignation - Croft evidently knows you well.
"I will send for you. Dismissed."
With that, Croft and her men march past you, back toward the chaos and disorder of the city.
You have no further trouble or encounters making your way back to your lodgings, where you sleep the sleep of the just.
You have a week before Marshal Croft sends for you - what do plan to do with it?
Gregor doesn't take the notion of a 'week off' truly to heart. First, he busies himself with trying to piece together what is going on with the magic of the box and mask. Then he will open the captain's log box. Hopefully all the different pieces will help him piece together what may be happening to his fair city. Based on what he finds just may affect the unofficial patrols he normally does in his 'off-time'.
Donagar works to shake the effects of the chill and the strike from the wraith, he spends the week looking into options for dealing sith such foes in the future.
Likewise he works with Gregor to identify the items from the ship and peice together the clues of what happened....
"I hope this was not jus tha first wave o a prep fer full on war."
Mai makes it look like she is taking the 'week off' doing work and shopping while she is really gathering information, on The Grey Maidens, the Queen's Doctors, the patients of the Doctors, and anything that could connect to the Box or the Mask found.
Drakus will go back to his father's forge and help out there again.
Looking into options for dealing with Wraiths, a Knowledge(religion) roll DC 15 will tell you that there are few options for preventing their ability drain (Death Ward[i] - a level 4 spell - will guard against negative energy but not ability drain) but that [i]Lesser Restoration will heal that damage.
Such scrolls are available, but are going rapidly as they also help with the ability damage caused by the blood veil. As you can imagine, demand is high - scrolls of Lesser Restoration cost +20% of their normal price.
As to overcoming the fact that they are incorporeal, you can obtain ghost salt (20 gp per dose): this can be rubbed into your weapon and then placed over a hot flame for a full round. Your first successful hit on an incorporeal will then do full damage (instead of half damage).
Your investigations of the mask reveal it has two faint auras: primarily conjuration (healing), but also illusion. It appears to grant complete immunity to blood veil and resistance against other diseases (+2 bonus to fortitude saves). However, oddly, it also conceals the wearer's alignment, making them register as Neutral to alignment-detecting effects.
The box is a coffer engraved with numerous skulls. It has an aura of necromancy and general evil. It is surprisingly sturdy and will require a Disable Device DC 20 to unlock.
The captain's log box is engraved with the name of the ship (the Direption). It does not contain the log-book - a notable omission - but it does contain a number of ledgers and invoices for a cargo (referred to as "specimens") from an entity referenced only as B7 and directed to a "R. Davaulus". The title deed to the ship is also present in the box and discloses that the ship is owned by the same "R. Davaulus".
You learn - unsurprisingly - that the Grey Maidens are thoroughly disliked. They are thought of as overbearing and tyrannical, reacting violently against what they see as any disorder. They cannot be reasoned with and once they have identified someone as in the wrong their "justice" is lacking the quality of mercy.
The Queen's Doctors are thought of as a mystery: people approve of them in some general way - but no one has ever seen one in the streets, or attending to the sick. No one has apparently thought of this as odd, since it is generally assumed that they are doing some sort of unspecific good somewhere to make the city better. Everyone who has encountered Dr Davaulus (the leader) or heard him speak tells you that he is extremely approachable and very charming and compassionate.
When you describe the mask you found, you are told that it looks exactly the same as the one worn by the Queen's Doctors.
The box with engraved skulls is apparently the same sort of thing as the boxes that washed up on the shore, full of coins.
You gain gold pieces for your work, a thorough and satisfying workout that removes all the kinks and knots from your back and arms; and the intangible reward of finding that your father and relatives are - thus far - unscathed by the blood veil.
As he looks over the physician's mask and the paperwork with the Dr's name on it he remarks "Well, if this doesn't bode well for the head of the Queen's physicians? I wonder if she is aware of his involvement, or if someone is trying to set him up? This definitely warrants investigation."
Gregor pulls out the tools he uses for lawful searches and seizures, which sadly are the same type burglar's use for theft. "You best step back dwarf, we do not know for certain what is within, but for the sake of protection hand me the mask." He puts the mask on, and once Donager steps back, begins to attempt to unlock the black box.
"Well if yer sure I suggest we let everone in on whats goin on."
Gregor pulls out the tools he uses for lawful searches and seizures, which sadly are the same type burglar's use for theft.
Gregor works the lock a while with his thieves' investigator's tools and is rewarded with a 'click' as the lock slides open.
The top of the skull-encrusted box immediately springs loose, releasing an almost un-noticeable red vapour. This has no effect on Gregor, since he is (sensibly) wearing the mask.
Inside the box is a dead - a very dead - rat and 50 silver pieces.
Gregor quickly closes the lid again, and issues a warning to Donager, "We want nothing to do with these contents. There is a dead rat, and a few silver, and based off the cloud that emerged they are both covered with something foul. My best guess would be that they carry the disease going around. We should bring these findings with the mask and papers to the others and the Field Marshal."
"Any chance this is part of a coup?"
Gregor purses his lips in concern over the dwarf's question, "Who knows? There has been no shortage of discontent over the Queen's ascension after the king died. I say we gather the others before discussing the possible implications. Then we can report our findings and assessment to the Field Marshal." He stows the items away so in the off chance they were to be robbed the problems wouldn't increase. Then he waves Donager to follow as they gather the others and tell them of the findings.
@ Gregor
"Indeed sharper minds are needed to unravel tha whole thing, but tha doctors wearin masks that hide thar true natures is tha monst troublin part o this chickanery."
You gather to discuss your findings. As you talk, and share what you have discovered, and speculate, you become aware that you have been joined in the room by another. One who feels so familiar (even to those of you perhaps that have not yet met her) that you cannot quite recall exactly when she showed up or when you became aware of her presence.
Until, that is, she acts; cutting across your chatter and commanding your attention.