Varlis leans in to listen carefully to each petition without favour. He too can take a while to sense whether or not they are true to their word or if something is off.
He gives Laori and Scream more time to discuss art.
Emerion adds his own judge of character of the plaintiffs as he can. He clearly finds this tedious, but makes the effort for Heather's sake and because he knows things could be far worse without any leadership. As much as possible he encourages people to reach their own peace with one another.
"At last, someone around here who did something to help people," Emerion sighs with relief when the Talavera's are introduced.
"Welcome Philip and Nicola to the..Peoples Tribunal of Old Korvosa. How may we help you?"
"Aye, what can we do for you both? It sounds like you've achieved something useful around here and that's no mean feat. Pilts didn't put much store by medicines, though, so we don't have much we can offer save maybe getting some people motivated to help each other more."
Nicola bows to the Tribunal and begins in an unmistakably Chelaxian accent. "Greetings, heroes. I fear my brother and I are given more credit than may be due. Truth to tell, we were stranded here in Old Korvosa when the bridges were thrown down. We have done our best to help the people - what else could we do, eh? - but the need is greater, as you doubtless know. Bloodveil has spread far beyond the island. Indeed, our elderly auntie was stricken some time ago, which is why we came here, seeking a cure. Rumor has it that you have one -- a real cure, not some snake oil."
She glances uneasily at her brother and shifts slightly, rapier banging against her hip, as she crosses her arms almost defiantly. "Much as we would like it for our aunt, the bigger question is, is there a true cure? Is there enough for all? If not, what can we do to help produce it? Surely you will not be as mercenary as the church of Abadar and charge the poor a price they cannot pay?" She tilts her chin up proudly.
"If we had one, we'd have been handing it out already," Emerion replies seriously. "We're no mercenaries, just concerned people standing up for our own, the people of Korvosa. The only cure we know of is either the blessings of the gods or to see the illness through with care and rest - I've been stricken with it, and I'm not the only one. At least now that the source of bloodveil has been exposed - brought deliberately in boxes containing gold from some other land, and deliberately spread by the so-called healers the Queen employed - if we can keep those still with it isolated from those who have not caught it, it will with luck die away."
Nicola's look of disappointment is replaced by one of fury as Emerion explains. She whirls on her brother. "See!? Those carrion crows were up to no good! Spreading plague? That's evil of the purest sort."
She pulls a flask from her belt and takes a sip, calming some, then returns her attention to the Tribunal. "Thank you for the news, but I fear it doesn't help us much. We're fighting a losing battle. All I can do is bolster the ill each day and give them a chance to fight off the disease themselves. It's of some use, but stopping those 'healers' is more important. And somebody must tell the Queen she was duped."
Though not unused to diplomacy, he lets his younger sister talk and petition the heroes. For she has a way with people that he just doesn't quite, he makes the effort to keep himself immaculate however some find him both too imperious and too studious. An assessment that he off-handedly disregards.
Cutting quite dashing figure, with a surety of one well-versed the arcane arts. His dark grey coat worn but practical, much of his clothes shows that it comes from quality stock but has seen better days.
At his sisters defiant stance, Philippé smiles curtly. Often had he seen that, infrequently towards him.
Phillipe's face darkens, not one used to outbursts of passion, he is shocked at the vectors of diseases spread. He's spend many a sleepless night trying futilely to slow it, his stomach does knots at the thought of warring more against it's spread.
"Maybe you could spare some resources, the clinic could use it?" he says archly.
Nicola snorts. "Resources!? We need to go skewer a few crows!"
Throwing a withering look to his sister at her undermining his point, he then pivots back to the others. 'True, that'd be an immediate goal, but longer term.... Nicola is always good at assessing short-term goals.' he thinks ruefully.
"Already done, my friend," Emerion assures them. "The chief doctor was executed a few days ago, and the rest of them - all cultists of Urgathoa - slain or run out of the city. We know, we unveiled their plot to the city. You're welcome to anything around here you need save our personal gear, and I'm sure we can help find you some manpower too."
Heather listens as the Brother and sister converse with Emerion..
"In truth" she says finally "We are under resourced ourselves..I'm trying to get some sort of inventory of what is available together and am hoping to get the people to work together while the island remains cut off.."
She beckons Nicola closer and whispers "I would not put my faith in the Queen..she has proven..erratic in her actions and motives and there are hints that she may know more about this plague than we would like to think she does."
Controlling his expression, he nods gratefully. "It'll be a tough prospect getting the people to work together and not for their individual gain. The long rule of Pilts has taught them that, a populace's attitude alters to match that of it's leaders - I've found at least." he concludes sadly, though there is a catch of hope looking at these new leaders.
He looks around; "So the doctor in charge has been dealt with, his menagerie too? And the methods of spreading the disease? What about his notes, maybe there's a hint to a cure in them."
Nicola bends to hear Heather's disclosure, swift flashes of shock, disbelief, and disgust flashing across her mobile features. She opens her mouth to respond, then glances around at the crowd in the hall and closes it firmly with an almost audible snap, eyes dark with anger at the thought of such betrayal of a populace by their sovereign.
"I guess we will return to the clinic, then, with whatever supplies we may be able to gather from this place -- with your permission," she bows to the Tribunal, "If the source has been found and stopped, keeping the ill strong may be enough to see them through. Have you heard aught of when the bridges might be reopened?"
Putting a restraining hand upon his sisters' shoulder he sympathises with her emotions. He thinks to himself; 'We need to keep in-line with the tribunal, see what is happening - maybe influence it for the good of the island and the people.'
"Desna curse me for an idiot!" Emerion slaps his head. "There is a herbal treatment that some healers came up with from the notes we recovered," Emerion fishes in one pocket. "Here it is! It's not a cure, but if you can find the components it should help the afflicted through the worst."
Emerion slips off the "throne" and descends to give the paper to Nicola.
"As for when the bridges will be re-opened, I am not sure we should look for help from that direction."
With a warm smile at Emerion, Nicola accepts the paper and glances at it, sharing it with her brother automatically so he might peruse it too. Hope lights her countenance until Emerion's last statement, and she glances at her brother with worry before deciding to blurt out what is on both their minds, despite his warning hand on her shoulder.
"The Queen hails from Westcrown. You don't think... she's in league with Her Infernal Majestrix, Queen Abrogail II, do you? Because if the reign of Hell comes to this place, some of us will be in difficulty." She hooks a long thumb in the chain that suspends a tiny silver mug around her neck. "This is a death sentence back home. It's hard to help the sick while dangling from the Tines."
"I don't care to guess what she's doing, other than massaging her own ego," Emerion murmurs. "We're trying to find the seneschal but he seems to have vanished, and he's the last hope this affair can be ended without a civil war."
Varlis pokes Emerion in the side and gives him a slow wink at that comment about finding someone. One for just him. Not the Talavera's or the rest of the populace.
He coughs to cover and then smiles at Heather, "Can we deal with why we are here, now? These two seem to be true, perhaps we can talk to them some more later in private."
Taking the note in his hand, knuckles whitening in tension as he realises just how many this information could save and how many have suffered and expired due to it's lack.
As Nicola continues, he blinks an extending scrunch of his eyes at the admission. Though knowledge should be shared, especially if it gains the confidence of this tribunal it's difficult after undergoing the machinations of Cheliax. 'With this paliative treatment we may be able to help our Aunt, but first to get off the island. Though she's not the only one who needs help.' he glances around the room, the suffering a shadow underneath the hope.
"This seneschal, of where?" he requests followed by shock, "Civil war? Has it come to that?"
Heather nods emphatically..
"The people are restless..the Queen seems to be hell bent on offending everyone but her cronies, Lords and Commons alike and the Seneschal is missing.Field Marshal Croft charged us with finding him and bringing him back to the New City but we have essentially run into a dead end.We had hoped that Pilts might have had him prisoner but..well we need to find out what the ex 'Emperor' knows before we try him for treason, murder and whatever other crimes he has committed"
She turns to Varlis..
"Would you like to conduct the questioning my friend?"
Varlis stares at the woman trying hard to make himself understood by sheer willpower. He has no clever words and his bushy face almost hides the difficulty. Eventually he comes to a decision with a wave of his hand across the public.
"Talavera's do not need more questions now. We'll speak to them later. Ask them to wait and call the next case." He murmurs all this to Heather and Emerion then fades back a little to watch again.
"Aye, we shall," Emerion murmurs back, and turns to the de Talevera's.
"Can you wait a while for us to talk in private? I wouldn't want to keep you from your work but this is important." He keeps his voice pitched low so few enough around can hear.
Nicola raises her eyebrows at Emerion, then nods. Glancing at her brother and the paper he holds, she speaks softly to Phil. "C'mon, let's step over here and see ingredients are needed."
"Certainly, best get out of these important peoples way." he says stoically. 'Maybe see what's going on, there's more to meets the eye here.'
Moving to one side with his sister, he talks in a whisper; "So Pilt was treasonous against the Queen, well it stands to reason. But all this talk of the Queens involvement or lack of it in a cure is worrying."
"If she's working against her own subjects, she's the treasonous one," Nicola replies in a fierce whisper, "At least Abrogail is constrained by law. Horrid law, but still law. I'm not much for solicitors, but if people won't do right, they need laws and courts and stuff." She pauses a moment to think, then inclines her head towards her brother again. "Good thing we're not like that."
She subsides and watches the proceedings. Hmm. That one guy's pretty cute.
Heather rolls her eyes at Varlis.."I did not mean them I meant would you like to conduct the questioning of the prisoner while we try and get some sort of order out off this chaos." she says somewhat tetchily..
"I am sorry, not my way, all these people, missy," apologises Varlis at the fit of pique.
Girls!
"Who is next?" he adds hopefully.
Nicola hushes her brother, who hasn't said a thing, and watches the rest of the petitioners with interest, trying to gauge what's been happening on and off the island and what news these others may bear.
Moving to a corner, to observe the proceedings, Phillipe talks quietly to his sister. "There's a strange dichotomy with these people, they seem both patriots and also upset with the Queen." half a statement, half query he knows his sisters reaction.
"At least we have a cure or maybe only a treatment, though our efforts may be futile if it carries on spreading." he adds with concern.
A few more cases and Joziah suggests a break for lunch, "... unless Milady intends to press on without refreshment or pause."
The line looks like hours of work yet.
Heather nods slowly.."Find what you can and we'll take a break..and if there are surplus stores have them distributed to those who need them most.
"So should we try and cull some crows? They might be hiding and distributing more plague....especially if we cannot get back across the bridge." Phillipe whispers to his sister, attempting to figure out the most efficient method of curbing the disease.
Varlis gathers in the party as Heather proclaims the judgments finished for a while. His voice rumbles a little as he murmurs to the pair,
"I know where to find the Seneshal, thanks to the painter Scream. Maybe those two firebrands down there will help?" He doles out the information carefully knowing how valuable the Kings Hand is, especially when Neopopolis never quite ratified Queen Ileosa.
Ever the urban hunter, Varlis makes sure to keep on eye on the Talavera's so that they do not get away from him.
"You do? Why in Desna's name didn't you tell us before?" Emerion exclaims. "Where is he?"
Varlis waves a hand at the judgments and work that Heather and Emerion had been concentrating on.
"House Arkona."
"What? You mean the Arkona's have him?"
Heather presses fingertips to both temples.."I suddenly feel a headache coming on" she mutters.
Turning to Joziah she sighs and give him an apologetic smile.."I think court is over for the day..tell those waiting we will resume tomorrow"
"Of course, ma'am," Joziah bows. "You've already seen more than twice as many as Pilts would have. I'll schedule them tomorrow in their current order."
"Lord Arkona took him. From Scream. When he was wounded. By Red Mantis," nods Varlis.
He beckons over the Talavera's, "they can help."
"Given Istas is going to be busy, I agree, we may well need their help. It seems the Red Mantis have been very busy here."
Emerion leads the way over to the pair.
"Sorry about that...I think we need to talk to you both. Matters are afoot that are of dire consequence, and you both seem able to handle yourselves when there's trouble."
Philippé shares a look with his sister and moves towards the others at Emerions' behest. 'Interesting, the hunter has been keeping a sharp eye out upon us. I wonder what his interest is.'
"Certainly the desperate situation has not been lost upon us. Stranded in a plague infested island, with the political unrest." he says with a sardonic hint to the tone. "We have been known to protect those under our care."
"It would seem that the Arkona's have the Seneschel, and I am fairly sure that it's not willingly on his part. We need to find him - he's the only person with the legal power to rein in the Queen. I don't think this will be easy, the Arkona's are powerful and have always played their own game here."
..And I'm sure they have a perfectly logical explanation..as to why they have the Seneschal prisoner..either that or the Arkona's have decided it's time for whatever end game they have been preparing for all these years"
"If they intended to oppose the Queen, would they not have used the Seneschel already?"
"That my dear Em ...is what worries me"
Heather looks over at her assembled 'staff'
"Joziah, we have something to do, I'm leaving you in charge..just make sure Pilts doesn't escape..but do not let him come to harm...and find some one to clean the place up I'm sure there must be some girls out there looking for honest maid work."
She looks around at the others "Right then We had best go see what the lay of the land at the Arkona Palace is hadn't we"
"Yes. Watch out for the Mantis." Varlis readies his bow and arrows.
A surprised look spreads across his face; "You wish us to accompany you? I haven't been well acquainted with the Arkona's, so I'm not too sure of any introductions I could make." Phillipe answers worriedly, seeing that the siblings might be slipping into important times.
"I don't think this is going to be a regular social call," Emerion murmurs.