.
Sartorique.
Widely known as the city of 1,000 plots, Sartorique has long been the go-to location for spies, traders, traitors, and anyone looking to redefine who they are and what they want out of life. A city of over a million souls, each bringing their own culture, cuisine, and architecture with them when they came to the city.
Originally a trade embassy established by the Inquisitors of Erogalle, the city took on a life of it's own as people from Intor, the Arcanirum, and even the Wildrunners flocked to the city to buy and trade their wares, ideas, and (even) their slaves.
While it is a powerful city, it's laws are threefold, written on plaques located on every street corner:
1) All sales are final.
2) A crime for a crime.
3) Mistreatment of slaves by their owner shall result in their owner taking their place.
While the first law dealt with commerce, the second's meaning was clear: If you steal, your posessions will be taken from you; if you kill, your life is forfeit. The third law was a more recent addition, at the insistence of the Arcanirum: The mages there find slavery to be abhorrant, and after years of lobbying the trade council, a compromise was reached: while slavery would still be legal, mistreatment of slaves would be punishable by the freedom of the slave and the previous owner taking up the mantle of slavery worn by their previous slave.
-Part of a letter sent by a spy to Her Imperial Majesty, Aetna IX
The messenger paused for a moment outside the embassy, gazing up at the flying flag showing a rearing Horse with rider, the rider's lance pointed towards the sun. Nodding in appreciation, he then set off through the streets looking for his intended recipients:
The first he finds trying to arrange an inn room for the night in fourth ward. Better to get him out of the way first he thought, approaching the hulking man and extending a letter towards him. After the man took the letter, the messenger bowed and left.
Next, the messenger headed towards third ward, where the scholarly man who was known as a naturalist lived. The man had clearly been creating some sort of alchemical concoctions in his lab when he answered the door, He had met the man before, and so he simply handed him the letter with a nod, and then bowed and left.
Finally, there was another man, this one also was also rather powerfully built, and the messenger found him at an estate sale, where there were a great many items of historical significance up for sale. The man was in a bidding war with an inquisitor of Erogalle over a statue from a set that fit together to form a specific scene. The messenger waited until the bidding was over and then handed the man the letter, bowed, and left.
The messenger quickly returned to the Intorian embassy, wanted to get paid and onto his next job as quickly as possible.
For everyone, please give us a description of the interactions each of you were involved with, your response to the messenger, and anything that you want to do before going to meet with the senator. The letter will have a meeting time in it (sundown on the day you receive the letter).
Lysimachos is a very tall, superbly muscled man, and yet graceful on his feet. Some would call him an exemplar of Intori martial nobility - if they did not look too closely. His dark brown eyes are surrounded with tension lines and his brown hair is thick and wild. His body covered in scars, the newer ones more numerous and ragged. He wears a black iron holy symbol of Hunri - two jagged and curved blades encircling a row of stones - openly over a hide shirt, to give others fair warning. The shirt is well-crafted, and clearly of the style of the Benthali wildrunners.
His patron is a capricious one, and one that is rightly feared.
Lysimachos does not have his great hammer in hand when the messenger arrives, nor his longbow. Both are visible next to the bed, along with a variety of other weapons, all kept in good condition akin to Intorian military protocol.
"My thanks, messenger. Safe and swift travels to you."
The mixture of Intorian noble speech and Benthali sayings might jar the messenger. Or not, given that he works in Sartorique.
Lysimachos breaks the seal, and reads the letter. He reads it, nods, and stows the letter away in a pocket in his shirt.
I will leave this place soon and find food. My gold is nearly exhausted, and I do not wish to get into an argument with a stall-vendor tomorrow. I will take this task, regardless of what it is.
Despite being banished from the Intorian Republic, and the wildness creeping into him from the influence of Hunri, Lysimachos is still willing to aid his countrymen. Perhaps his former shame can be wiped away by some great deed.
And truth be told, he hopes to hear some informed news about his family, and home.
Cornel was chatting excitedly with the proprietor of Toponymist's Canvas about his most recent travels in Benthali when the gangly, middle-aged man walked in, triggering the tinkly bell over the front door. He only glanced at Cornel, but swiftly approached Gordon, the shopkeeper, and held up before him a sealed envelope. "Ah, good afternoon, how are you?" Gordon said in greeting, speaking Low Suffi. By way of reply the man said nothing, only gave a smile and a nod. Gordon looked over at Cornel and, seeing his bemused expression, realized, "Oh, you haven't met, have you?" As he started to open the envelope, he continued, "Cornel, this is Yanko--he does a lot of delivery work around here, I'm surprised you haven't run into him before. Yanko, this is Cornel Lazar. He is one of the priests of Lithe, and also something of an explorer. He was just telling me about his latest journey in Benthali!" Yanko's eyes widened a little upon hearing "Benthali" and he looked more directly at Cornel with an interested expression. Cornel, finally beginning to catch on that the man doesn't speak, extended a hand for Yanko to shake, saying, "Pleased to meet you, Yanko. As Gordon says, I do have some reputation as an explorer, and as a painter, as well." Yanko shakes his hand briefly, but quickly turns back to Gordon, who has inspected the contents of his envelope by this time. "Very good, Yanko, thank you," Gordon says. He removes a rolled canvas from beneath his counter and hands it to Yanko. "Please take this to His Lordship, as he requests. And here is a little extra for you," he says, handing Yanko a few copper pieces.
Cornel looks up from his alchemical station when he hears three light knocks on the front door. He wipes his hands on his apron, which long ago abandoned its original white color in favor of mismatched blotches of many different hues, and then opens the door.
"Oh, good morning! Yanko, isn't it?" Cornel says cheerfully. The messenger nods in affirmation. He presents an envelope to Cornel, who recognizes the seal as that of Intorian government officials. "Oh, my, this is something special, isn't it?" Cornel asks. Yanko merely shrugs. As Cornel opens the seal and begins to read silently, Yanko bows and walks away. "Thank you, Yanko!" Cornel calls after him before continuing to read the letter.
The letter comes on actual paper, sealed with a Intorian senatorial ring. Inside, written on neat script, is the following missive:
Messr. Cornel Lazar,
I am writing you with an urgent personal request. I apologize about being so forward, but time is of the essence and I am attempting to gather a group of experienced adventurers to help me.
If you are willing to assist me in this endeavor, please come to the Intorian embassy at 6 bells this evening and I will make all clear.
By your leave,
Senator Gaius Polemius
Intor Republic
A copy of the Intor Republic seal graces the bottom of the page, showing that this stationary is likely from the Embassy stores.
The letter, in your case, turns out to be a leather scroll, with ivory knobs at the end of the turning handles. Opening the scroll, you can see that the handwriting is of a neat, clear form. The Letter reads:
Dear sir,
I wish to speak to you about engaging your services for a brief stint on a personal matter. I know of your particular circumstances, and I emplore you as a citizen of our fair nation to assist me. You will, of course, be properly paid for your time. Unfortunately, this medium is far too insecure to discuss the pertinent details.
If you wish to hear my offer, then please come to the Intorian Embassy by 6 bells for a meal and the particulars of my offer.
Sincerely,
Senator Gaius Polemius
Intor Republic
A copy of the Intor Republic seal graces the bottom of the page, showing that this scroll is likely from the Embassy stores.
The letter you receive is written on plain paper, with a rather looping, flourish-y script. It reads:
Master Lazverinus,
First, let me say that I have heard of your plight, and my heart goes out to you. As one father to another, I weep for your missing family and pray for their safe return.
While I lack information regarding their whereabouts, I am putting together a group of investigators for assistance with a personal matter. I would have a family man among the those I employ.
If you are interested in my endeavor, please come to the Intorian Embassy at 6 bells for dinner and I vow to explain all of the details of my issue in more secure environs. Yours truly,
Senator Gaius Polemius
Intor Republic
The seal of the Introian republic graces the bottom of the page, indicating that the stationary was likely taken from embassy stocks.
Lazverinus seems a quiet and serious man, formal in dressing and behaviour. He sips silently at his drink, and keeps the storm inside for himself.
He is a tormented one, for sure. The recent events in his life couldn't produce any other result. He watches the messenger leave a note for him, nods and orders the inn keeper to serve a drink to the dedicated curier.
Lazverinus takes some time before opening the missive. An offer for work, he guesses, and he's right. However, something inside catches his attention. The much needed help could be on its way, finally.
He rolls the scroll and finishes his drink. Standing up, he leaves some coin to pay his check and the messenger's. He whispers a polite farewell to the regulars and walks out. There's still time until 6 bells, but he certainly needs to primp according to the occasion.
What does Lysimachos know of this Gaius Polemius or his family?
I imagine Society would be the skill to roll, if any.
While you do not know much about the man or his family, you do know that the Senate is one of the more powerful bodies in the Empire, second only in power to the Emperor. Having such a man as a contact would be a boon in whatever endeavor you might wish to undertake, even perhaps finding a way to remove your curse.
Lysimachos would have attended the task anyway, but if there is an actual prospect of breaking the curse of Hunri, then his commitment would be total. Even redeeming his name seems like a distant dream at this stage.
Desiring to be punctual for such an important meeting, Cornel arrives at the door of the Intorian embassy a quarter hour before 6 bells. He is not wearing his messy apron now, of course, but a fine linen shirt with well-pressed pants and a jacket. He raps on the front door with his left hand.
Before he departs the inn for dinner, Lysimachos asks for a bath to be arranged. The innkeeper is reluctant to refuse him.
He cleans his hide shirt and assorted clothing as best he can.
His weapons are cleaner still.
He aims to arrive at the embassy as close to six bells as possible, erring slightly on the side of being early.
Lazverinus takes a long bath and puts a big effort to appear clean and proper. He wears his panoply, since he's not sure if he might be sent on the mission straight from the encounter. If it is required, he could always leave his things with a servant.
Planning on being there five minutes before the time, just in case, he leaves home and tries not to appear too nervous.
The embassy of the Intorian Republic sits in First Ward, the inner district of the city where the rich and powerful make their homes.
The guards protecting the gate leading to First Ward hassle both Lazverinus and Cornel, but eventually allow them to pass through. Lysimachos, on the other hand, is made to wait while his story is confirmed and the streets are cleared. He is then escorted directly to the embassy.
The embassy is made of white polished stone, Pillars adorn the façade of the building, with a pair of sweeping double-doors made of some sort of metal, with the crest of the Intorian Republic etched masterfully into the the metal.
A pair of guards flank the doors, appearing stern and unwavering.
Each of you approaches the embassy and, after explaining the situation, are led into one of the conference rooms in the building. There is a sideboard set with fruits, meats, and cheeses, and another next to it with a variety of alcoholic beverages (although no beer).
If the nobility are using family names, then it would behove Lysimachos to have one, even if he doesn't refer to himself by it. 'Antonis' sounds about right to me. I imagine that whether or not other Intorians refer to his family name or not would vary.
Also: the names of the slain, in the order in which they died. Lysimachos made a point of finding out afterwards and committing that to memory.
Xenokrates. Hyllus. Dillius. Opiter. Polykritos. Kaeso.
Lysimachos carries all of his worldly possessions with him to dinner, including weapons.
Especially weapons.
Part of it is from Intorian military training. To be disarmed is shameful, which is why he was disarmed when thrown into the Wildlands. And part of it is to warn off other people. If Hunri's Curse takes hold, he can kill with his hands or anything in them.
His heart warms a little at the familiar architecture, and chills when he recalls that this may be the closest he ever gets to Intor again.
He greets the guards respectfully and explains:
"I am Lysimachos. I am here at the invitation of Senator Polemius."
Once allowed in, he notices the food. He makes a point of gathering samples of all and trying them out, somewhat reminiscent of a Wildrunner in an unfamiliar area.
And while he looks at the beverages, he turns his head away from it.
I miss wine. But I cannot take the risk.
When he sees the others, he will approach and offer his hand, his great hammer on his back and the iron symbol of Hunri clearly visible on his chest, and say:
"A good day to you. I am Lysimachos, formerly of the Intorian Republic. Do you know where Senator Polemius is? He has made invitation to meet him here for dinner."
Lazverinus stays quite, resisting the urge to taste some cheese, until the others arrive. He nods slightly at first, followed by a scarce "Good evening."
Believing the mnan with the long hair to be a berzerker, and tying up loose ends when he mentions an appointwent with the Senator, he wonders in which kind of plot is he sticking his nose in.
"I think Senator Polimius is busy right now, but he won't take long... I hope."
Cornel attempts to make polite conversation with the guards outside but finds they are not amenable to chatting. He quickly goes inside.
When Lazverinus and Lysimachos arrive, Cornel is sitting in one of the chairs enjoying cheese and wine.
He looks Lysimachos up and down with some apprehension. This looks like a dangerous man--carrying weapons with him inside the Intorian Embassy? Cornel is not sure what to expect from him.
The other man has a cleaner, more respectable appearance, but he was much more abrupt in his speech, not even offering a name.
Well, surely all this is nothing that a bit of charm and good cheer can't surmount! Cornel rises from his chair and offers a handshake first to the cleaner looking man, and then to Lysimachos.
"It is good to meet you both! My name is Cornel Lazar. I am a priest of Lithe, and my permanent residence is here in the great City-State of Sartorique, although not in quite so illustrious an area as the First Ward." Cornel's tone of voice takes on a hint of envy as he mentions the First Ward, and he looks appreciatively at the fine architecture of their surroundings. "You may have heard of my explorations in the wilderness, or perhaps of my fine paintings."
"It seems we are to dine together, Lysimachos! For I, also, received an invitation from Senator Polemius." Cornel turns to face the other man and asks, "Do you have this same reason for being here this evening, Mr. ...?" he trails off inquisitively, lacking a name with which to address the man.
"Lazverinus" he answers. Eyes coming back and forth between the two strangers, he adds "Yes, I was summoned here as well. Something about a job that needs to be done." Lazverinus wonders if they are potential competitors or potential collaborators. He hopes the latter.
Lysimachos hesistates for a moment. But just for a moment. One by one, he removes his killing implements. All aside from one silver dagger, which he carries openly and unsheathed on his belt.
He still radiates a subconscious threat to those around him, whether he wishes it or not.
Speaking in Intor, a noble accent combined the harshness of the language and the man.
"Cornel. Lazverinus. I am not familiar with either of your work, being both new to Sartorique and largely unfamiliar with art. My presence was requested here by the senator. I would see his task done. I may no longer be able to return to Intor, but a man of Intor I am until my grave."
"Well, then! This must be some task indeed, for the senator to see fit to summon all three of us, men with such varied talents," Cornel replies cheerfully. "I am interested, indeed, to learn the nature of it."
Your introductions are interrupted by the door opening, and a young Intorian male of perhaps a dozen years running into the room.
Glancing around, he said "No, no, no, this will not do at all. Where are the rest of you?"
Opening the door that your entered from, he saw that there was no one else waiting in the hall to spring out at him, and he turned back to your group, before saying "Three? That is all of you? But I sent out over 20 scrolls? It doesn't even make sense!"
Moving as close as directly in front of each of you as the furniture permits, he looked you each in the eye.
After getting what measure he could from each of you, he sighed heavily and said "Well, then, I guess this will have to do. Please, follow me and the Senator will explain everything."
He then adopted a posture of someone doing an Official Job Very Officially and exited the door he came through . He does not wait for you to follow.
Lysimachos states: "Then we shall suffice. Please lead on."
And he begins to walk after the young assistant.
Cornel stands swiftly when the young man enters. He attempts the beginning of an introduction but it sputters out as the man goes through his melodramatic display.
Curious. Why did so many others decline to respond to the Senator's invitation? No matter.
He follows through the door.
Worried for being about to try a job for 20 with only 3, but desperate anyway to do anything that could help his search, Lazverinus says nothing and follows the servant.
The boy leads you through the embassy, past people who nod or wave at him as he goes.
Clearly he is well known here.
The page guides you through the reception area, which is surprisingly a large open space that ends in the stained glass that makes up the roof and takes up a majority of the inner building.
Natural light plays through the glass to show the crest of The Intorian Republic, making it appear to float in the air. While the light from the skylight does reach the ground, it is the normal light one might expect to see looking through a window on a clear day; the image that the stained glass reveals stops exactly at the bottom of the second floor.
You both recognize this effect as something similar to a Major Image spell, likely made permanent. What's really fascinating about it is that the illusion is in fact likely the stained glass. There also appears to be another magical effect that is blocking the illusion on the first floor, but what that might be would require actual magical detection.
There are couches displayed out throughout the room that are sectioned in what appear to be meeting areas.
While there are people here, you barely have time to register them as the boy leads at a near run through a set of double doors, down a row of what appear to be office doors with placards next to each with a name on them, and then pauses in front of an unadorned door to see if he lost any of you.
Seeing that you have managed to keep up, the boy pulls a key on a ring from under his tunic and unlocks the door, which leads not into an office, but to a circular staircase that only leads down.
"Follow it down and wait at the bottom. I'll follow after I lock the door." When the last of you is through the doorway, he lets himself in, closes and locks the door, and follows behind.
The stairs open into a small room that could comfortably fit a half-dozen people with a single door, which is made of some sort of metal and lacks both handles and a place to insert a key. There is, however, an etched outline of a handprint that sits in, as far as any of you can tell by looking at it, the exact center of this door.
This door appears to be made of an alloy of Inubrix, also known as ghost iron, and Djezet, both of which are exceedingly rare metals known as star metals (while most people believe that the name means that they come from the stars, the priesthood of Lithe knows that it's a joke based on a Erogallan scholar who specialized in these metals saying that they cost about as much as a star would).
It is known that both metals are found primarily in Intor.
Pushing through your group, he places his hand on the symbol and then leans forward and appears to kiss the door.'
You are pretty sure that he is not actually kissing the door, but whispering something to it.
As he does so, the door literally melts away in front of you, appearing for all the world to pour into the door frame that it sits in.
Inside, you see what Lysimachos easily identifies as a Senator's office, including a massive desk, a pair of long couches that face each other with a low table between them, and a standing bar off to one side. There are also a pair of unadorned doors that exit the room.
You also do not see a Senator anywhere.
As you are all looking about, the boy walks into the room and takes a see in the chair behind the desk.
"Well, don't stand on ceremony now. Come in!" he says, his demeanor less formal than upstairs.
Entering the room, he waves you to the three comfortable-looking chairs that are arrayed in front of the desk.
As you take your seats, two things happen: the first, the door quickly reforms into the same solid piece of metal that existed before, and the second, the boy pulls at the ring finger on his right hand and a ring appears between the first three fingers of his left hand, though there was no visible ring on his right hand.
As he does so, the boy is replaced with a late middle-aged man with whispy near-white hair that seems to float on it's own, though this is likely due to the fact that he has been moving quickly, rather than any sort of magic. He then begins speaking in Intorian:
"I apologize about the skullduggery, but I had to be sure. Please, help yourself to something to drink while I explain the heart of the situation: To begin with, I am indeed Senator Gaius Polemius," as he introduces himself officially, he produces a shaped piece of metal the size of a baseball which has the carved symbol of the Intorian Republic on the side that he shows you before continuing: " and I have asked you here because I truly need your help: someone has abducted my son."
You recognize this as a senatorial seal. That he would have one means that he is indeed a senator, because there are scary rumors about the people who report directly to the senate who make sure that such seals are returned to the senate promptly.
The seals themselves are rumored to be highly magical items which offer their bearer a variety of enchantments: stories about these seals are often told around the campfire by soldiers, and the stories of their abilities are likely exaggerated, but it wouldn't be outside the realm of possibility that such a thing would have magical abilities.
Lysimachos follows the instructions of the assistant as told.
And then when he realises the 'assistant' is in Polemius, he speaks:
"Well played, Senator. I recall soldier gossip about the powers of senatorial seals, but it makes sense to me that at least some would have magical power. In any case, such precautions of yours make sense in light of your son's abduction. I would aid you, if I am able. Although I presume that you are aware that I suffer from the Curse of Hunri, and the bloody circumstances in which that arose?"
He turns to Cornel and Lazvernus.
"Whether or not the Senator knows, if we are looking to work together, I will inform you of the details. So that you are forewarned and forearmed."
While he awaits a response, he seeks the plainest drink he can find, plain water if possible, doing his best to ignore the high quality wines that will likely be present.
"So we seem to have a common cause, Senator." He doesn't make any movement, keeping his calmed stance and indicating with his face gestures that he's fully listening to what anyone is willing to explain.
Cornel gazes at the stained glass and its light in admiration as they pass under it.
When the senator unveils his identity, Cornel claps in delighted surprise. "Oh, that is very clever, sir! And that door is magnificent--an alloy of Inubrix and Djezet, is it not?"
But when Senator Polemius informs them that his son has been abducted, Cornel becomes quite serious. "What a terrible thing! Of course, Senator, I am at your disposal. Is your son still a child, or is he grown?"
"As I said, I had to be sure. As our first floor lobby is warded against illusions, I had this ring made to revert me back to the age of a senatorial page. It lets me come and go without too many observing eyes. And yes, Master Cornel, that door is indeed made of both Djezet and Inubrix. The door to every senator's office is more or less the same as that one, as I understand it."
The Senator then stands and offers each of you his hand, then retakes his seat and continues:
"Thank you all for your offer to help. I have prepared something with the particulars for you to read while you are here, but I can't have it leave this office, and I would ask that you not take notes."
The senator leans forward and says "In short, my son is a year shy of his compulsory service in the legions. He's a good boy, but I fear he might have fallen in with the wrong crowd since I became the ambassador to Sartorique. I would use my own investigators to find my son, but I'm afraid that they likely do not have the knowledge and access to the places in the city such an investigation would need to go. Also, I need this kept completely quiet. If a spy for one of my rivals were to hear of this, it would give them the fuel they need to take my position. This is why I can't allow you to leave with this information. I hope that it has a few leads, but I'm afraid it's the best I have. It is the standard security dossier of anyone related to an ambassador. I have not read it, for fear of what I might find."
While it's clear that the Senator is trying to maintain his regal appearance, it's also obvious that he is quite worried about his son.
"Feel free to ask any questions you might have, and I will answer them to the best of my ability."
With that, the senator gets up and walks to the sideboard, then goes the bottom shelf and pulls out a small cask that has already been tapped. He pours himself a quarter glass of the contents, which are rich amber color, and downs it in a single go. He then replaces the cask and takes his seat again, prepared to answer any questions you have.
"So your son is with these people willingly?"
"I don't know the exact situation, but he has missed the last two check-ins, which he would not do willingly, as he knows what's at stake if he does. With that being said, however, if you find that he's just drunk or on one or more mind-altering substances, bring him back to me regardless, so he and I can have a talk about moderation and his behavior."
Lysimachos finds a plain drink, pours it into a glass, and wets his throat with it before replying to the Senator.
"Has your son ever expressed an opinion on service in the Legions, whether his own or speaking of anothers'? Perhaps this crowd has filled his head with false notions about life in the Legions - or outside of them."
As Lysimachos begins to ask questions of the Senator, Cornel picks up the security dossier, opens it, and begins reading silently to himself.
The dossier contains a small sketch of a boy of about 14 years who looks quite similar to the Senator when he collected your group. It is also moving on it's own, occasionally turning to the left, then looking straight ahead, then turning to the right.
Moving past that, there are about a dozen pages from what appears to be a notebook or journal, with a half-sheaf of parchment below it.
While the journal pages themselves don't seem to make any sense, it quickly becomes apparent they are in code.
The below the journal pages are bound with twine, and are topped with a note that simply reads
Translated from field notes at the Primary's request.
-T
The sheaf of papers details the movements of the boy, whose name is Quintus Verrilus Polemus (nicknamed Quint). It notes that he's the only son of the Senator, and that he will take his legionary oaths in about a year (as Lysimachos can explain is compulsory at the age of majority, 15).
The bulk of the information is related to dates and times (counted in bells every hour), as well as anyone who interacted with him for more then a cursory "hello" or mercantilism.
There are also notations that refer to another set of logs, but these notes lack details about those logs.
There is one location that a Quint has been spending a great deal of time at lately, a place that you have at least heard of: The Tea Room.
The Tea Room is a bar for rich young people with famous parents to drink, smoke, and fornicate at.
The man who runs it is shady, but he knows that he only wants the appearance of danger, so his place is only *just* inside 5th ward (one of the wards that goes from "the poor live here" to "don't walk alone unless you radiate death, and even then you should think about not walking alone" the further away from first ward it gets).
Cletus (the man who runs the Tea Room) pays the thieves and assassins guilds well to leave a wide berth around his place and a pathway through to the gates up ward) and then he pays local toughs to pretend to fight the nobles and let them win, so they feel rough and tumble, which he knows means repeat business.
You could probably get some more possible locations, but there is a lot to sift through there and look for patterns.
Quint primarily hangs out with a recent expatriate of Erogalle who calls himself "Certainty". He leads a group of rich sons in their rabble-rousing.
"My son knows his duty, and has not expressed any sort of opinion to the contrary. I do know he's been sowing his wild oats, but it's not like him to miss checking in. Some might say that he's just F#@&ing in a brothel somewhere, but I trust my son more than that."
"Ahhh, the Tea Room," Cornel murmurs softly as he reads.
Lysimachos sifts through the dossier when he is able.
He looks at the Senator and asks:
"Senator, is there anything else known about this 'Certainty' figure?"
"Not really. He's from Erogalle, so he has arrogance in spades. I have been told that he worships Gakaroki, but as I understand it he's not part of the priesthood."
Lazverinus lifts one of his eyebrows.
"The Tea Room? We should start there. Also, maybe Senator Polemus doesn't want to know the details of our investigation."
He opens the dossier and reads carefully before leaving it on the desk and standing up.
"We will do our best with the maximum discretion."
"Duly noted, Senator. And as Lazverinus says, discretion."
"Yes, please be discreet. I would recommend making a cover story for why you're looking for him, in case anyone asks."
You both spot a couple more places that Quint frequented a great deal, usually around the same time of day at each location: A flower shop in the market in Third Ward, and the shop of a healer in second ward.
You recognize the shop in third ward that he frequented; it's run by a very pretty Sartorique native named Elly. You have painted her more than once, as many a young man has requested you create a painting of her to give her as a gift. You've met her once or twice, and she is a genuinely sweet, if somewhat naïve, young woman who has a real gift with plants.
"Unless you have any more questions, I will escort you back out. Please, be successful."
After waiting for any other questions, the Senator redons his ring and the youthful version of the Senator leads you back out of the catacombs and to the entrance of the embassy. With a imperious bow, he turns and leaves.
Lysimachos has no further questions for the Senator.
"Gentlemen, I recommend that we depart for one of your lodgings. We have much to discuss, and to plan."
"Well... I live alone, now, so... I guess we can meet at my house."
Lazverinus escorts his new companions to his house, offers them something to drink and discusses the plan.
"First of all, the Senator is right. We need a cover. Any idea?"
"Water, please."
Lysimachos partakes of his drink and speaks.
"I could perhaps fit a bodyguard role, or that of an enforcer. I am open to other suggestions. But before we go further, I must be clear on why I am here and not in Intor."
He pauses, and then begins reciting a list of names. Intorian names.
"Xenokrates. Hyllus. Dillius. Opiter. Polykritos. Kaeso."
"Those are the names of former comrades-in-arms of mine in the Legion. Who I fought alongside in several battles against the Benthali Wildrunners. Who were there when I led a desperate charge, which turned into a victory through divine attention."
"And they were those who died by my hand as the Curse of Hunri took hold of me."
"Soon after, I was stripped of my military rank, my Legion equipment, and banished into the wilds to fight the enemies of Intor until my death. I survived well enough in the wilds, and re-equipped myself, wandering here in recent times. I would do my duty to Intor, regardless of whether I will see it again. Though if anyone could tell me of a way to break the Curse, it might be a Senator."
"Before I am angered, I am stronger and swifter on my feet than most, as well as skilled with most weapons. When angered, I become far stronger and more resilient, and the Curse grants me aid appropriate to the situation. Arrows bounce off my skin, or my form blurs so that I am difficult to strike, or I can climb walls akin to a spider. All will be well - until I run out of foes and still rage. I recommend one of three course of action if that looks set to occur: talk me down, hide, or flee."
He looks to the others for their reaction, sipping water.
"Your condition sounds very dire, indeed, Lysimachos. I...am sorry for your experience. I can't imagine what you felt when that rage broke."
"And what conditions are they that usually trigger the onset of this rage, Lysimachos? We should like to avoid those as much as possible..."
Lazverinus listens carefully. It is good to know that one of his companions could kill him as easily as he could kill his enemies. As if finding the boy wasn't difficult enough already.
"I appreciate that Cornel. Many times, I recall nothing of what occurs during the rage itself, just the aftermath. The rage often, but not always, strikes during combat. It has arose from insult or other annoyance but not often. I have taken to wearing the symbol of Hunri and numerous weapons openly, so as to reduce the chances of someone aggravating me without realising what they risk in doing so."
"There are advantages, loathe as I am to call them that. I am exceedingly difficult to kill, and usually draw a great deal of attention upon myself in combat even without the rage. That would leave you two to act more freely in that time."