[b]I'm guessing that our fine proprietor here has more spine than that last barkeep could dream of. Perhaps the ... universe... finds our recompense of interest? {/b] Krizen echoes Nalun's phrasing deliberately, and throws a little bit of a jeer into his tone when speaking of the previous barkeep to make the distinction he is drawing more elaborate.
He also sips at his brandy again, happily enjoying the indescribable sensations.
”I know little more about Ilyania that what I have told you. I am oben with this invormation begause my clientele are rarely involved with her gohort. They gome here for the comforts of home.”
"Well, thanks for the info you could provide, and the interesting drinks. You know, once you get past the initial shock of the appearance, your place is kinda charming, Yilhane," Bravo says as he finishes his drink.
Krizen looks at his drink, then at Bravo as the disguised soldier finishes his drink. "We have to go now, don't we?" He looks mournfully at the half-full glass, and makes as if to lift it for a drink and then pauses. "We are going straight towards the outskirts of town to look for her, aren't we? I suppose I really don't need to finish this... " He sighs, takes a small sip, and then looks to the bartender. "Good sir, this drink has been wonderful. Thank you for directing me to it."
Krizen muses for a moment about asking for a cask of the brandy to be delivered to the ship, but decides his "expense account" isn't deep enough for such an extravagance.
Yilhane lets out a burbling sound, apparently pleased with himself, ”My bleasure. Gome back anytime, and hopefully Zeizerer won’t bainfully obliterate you. It would be a zhame.”
Bravo leads the way out.
"Well, only one place left to go now, and this time we KNOW it's going to be unpleasant," he says once they're on the street.
With the mildly baffling visit to Yilhane’s finished, the party has one location left to visit.
On the walk over, the party receives a message from Historia that another agent would be meeting with them to help them to deal with the Roost and potentially beyond that.
The Roost is closer to the center of town, though still in a disreputable area. The building is constructed in the classic drow style, spiky, menacing, and deeply gothic. A tall archway filled by a curtain of bladed feathers seems to be the only entrance.
Of note, birds of many sorts fly around it, perching on the abundancs of dark metal spikes. Standing outside it, however, is a gold-plated SRO with a symbol of Saranrae on its forehead.
Still, be still. Still as a statue, as motionless as the dead. Not to move an inch, don't twitch even a single wire. Just simply stand vigilant, watch intently, absorbing every detail. Burn it into your hardrive, back up the information onto a disk for later review, just be sure to keep absolutely still.
The bird sitting in the center of his palm shifted, preening it's black feathers with a sharp red beak.
"Such beauty!/even with this/pitch black place/unloved/by the dawn's majesty." Reverbated from speakers within what could be considered his throat, his tone and pitch changing drastically several times within thr same sentence. It was as if several audio clips were haphazardly stitched together, with little regard to how each actually fit.
With a flutter of it's wings the bird left his palm, soaring in the dirrection of several travelers, some that he recognized. Could these be his contacts? They didn't give across the same unfriendly air most of this city's denizens did in the presence of his priestly colors.
He raised his hand in greeting, "Well met. /I am /Soundbyte of Sunlight/, a starfinder. /We are friends, right Johnny?"
"That must be our new friend," Bravo comments dryly as they approach. No one that bright could be a local.
"Hi, glad to meet you. I'm Bonar Vizetelly. Call me 'Bravo.' I take it you're the contact Historia-7 told us to meet? We've had a surprising amount of attrition on this mission despite only having gotten into a single fight."
"Well met, /Bravo," he repeats thr name back, copying the human's voice of it. "I am pleased to lend aid."
Tsking a closer look at the group, Soundbyte noticed that they didn't quite match their descriptions, leading to the rational conclusion of them being in disguise. A glance at his gold plated hand led to a rational conclusion that he was a bit out of place. How awkward of him. Nothing for it now, though. "What's your angle?" He quoted, in a voice that sounds vaguely noir.
Seeing how the lynchpin of their disguise routine has vanished, Bravo yanks out the fake tusks and wipes the facepaint off his face.
"I guess there's really no point to this now," he says. "Long story short, we thought we might have a better chance of getting information on our target's location if we blended in, so we disguised ourselves as a low-ranking drow agent and her entourage. But without said low-ranking drow agent, we just look like a gang of weird thugs."
Krizen looks at his own fur mournfully. "Would that my own disguise were so easily shed... Instead I must hide myself for a while longer. Welcome to our group, Soundbyte. We have narrowed down the possible locations of the thieves, and your assistance is appreciated."
"Next time we're aboard the Dream, you'll get the 'fresher first, Krizen," Bravo replies to reassure him.
"Happy to be of assistance!" comes a chirpy, feminine voice this time. It's proceeded in a man's rough tone of speech "We'll nab those damn, dirty rats!"
Shuffling his polearm to his offhand, with his right he touched a finger to his holy mark. "I pray for /our /success /with Sarenrae's blessing. /Shall we depart?"
"No need to depart. You're right where we needed to be. This...bar...is the last of Ilyania's known haunts, and while Yilhane back at his place told us she's left the city, he didn't know where. Someone here might."
He points at Nalun.
"Nalun, you're the one most used to talking with civvies, you take point in the negotiations. I doubt the psychos in here will be too charmed by your sunny solarian smile, but going in heavy with the threats will just get us carved up. Any one else have any tactical recommendations?"
Was that not what he had intended? No mater. "I'll cover you from behind captain. /Always on the look out for trouble." He replayed.
|
Nalun gives a slight bow to Bravo
All things must be as they will be.
Nalun moves into the bar and will approach anyone who thinks might be a useful font of information, preferably a human or humanoid, probably the bartender or other worker.
Greetings. I am Nalun, Acolyte of the Balance. I am seeking a particular elven woman and I believe you may know of her.
"And I thought I was blunt," Bravo mutters as he follows Nalun into The Roost.
A mechanical noise that sounds akin to chuckling emenates from the SRO as his shoulders shift. He was already starting to like this group of theirs.
As he said previously, he kept his sensory input centered on his suroundings.
The interior building is dark, barely lit by a single blood-red lantern hanging from the ceiling. The party is in a somewhat small room, with a few seats and a small bar. At the other side of the room is a great set of double doors made of a red-lacquered wood, with a large metal knocker in the shape of a swan holding a wickedly sharp blade. A drow woman stands behind it and almost begins speaking before Nalun introduces himself. Once Nalun is finished, she raises her eyebrows and says in the smooth and sinister accent of the drow, "My, my, aren't you a bold one. Well, I'm afraid I don't know much of what you're talking about. There are many, many drow women who visit this place, after all."
She then gestures languidly to the door, "You may find more answers within the Sanctum. Be warned, it is not for those easily...disturbed. Our Lord requires sacrifice."
Bravo rolls his eyes and pulls out Zeizerer's cyber-leg and plunks it down onto the bar.
"We're looking for the one who used to be attached to this."
”Oh my...I believe I know who you’re looking for. Even for a group as armed as you, she may pose a problem. In any case, last I heard, she mentioned an abandoned bot maintenance station along an old tech-mining road.”
The SRO tilt's his head, contemplating the sincerity behind her words.
Soundbyte is pretty sure she is telling the truth.
Krizen looks down at his odd-colored fur, and then at the remains of the disguises. "Why didn't we start with this approach? From now on, I'm a fan of the blunt approach."
Krizen is impressed by Nalun and Bravo's forceful handling of the situation, and the immediate results. He is wise enough to know that the group got lucky and that things could have gone differently, but it is still an impressively fast result.
”Oh my...I believe I know who you’re looking for. Even for a group as armed as you, she may pose a problem. In any case, last I heard, she mentioned an abandoned bot maintenance station along an old tech-mining road.”
"And I suppose we'd have to do your whole 'sanctum sacrifice' thing for information to narrow down WHICH old tech-mining road this bot-maintenance station's on?"
”Someone within may know more, but you may not need to sacrifice yourselves. It is the will of those within the Sanctum who shall give blood.”
Krizen takes a moment to parse the logic behind those words, and then asks directly: "And what does it take to ensure the will of those within is not a sacrifice of blood from us?" His tone implies that the drow woman knows or can arrange a method of payment which would put the party on the "do not eat and/or sacrifice" list, and he definitely wants to be on that list before entering.
"And you've got a lot of variety when it comes to blood sacrifices. Are we talking slitting your palm and squeezing out a few drops, or more full-on, Zon-Kuthon-style, exsanguination sh!t?"
"A simple donation of blood. Just enough to be used for our own purposes."
Soundbyte twisted his head to the side as he listened to the drow's request for blood, and contemplates the many terrible things that could be done with it. He also had this inkling suspicion that his motor oil wouldn't exactly please them.
Krizen frowns at the woman's response. "Your own purposes? I don't like the sound of that. On the whole though... This planet not being destroyed seems like a cause worth a bit of sacrifice. " Krizen nods his head firmly, entirely within his own mind at the moment as he commits to doing what is necessary for the sake of the mission; after all, their goal is a bit more important than his personal preferences, hygenic or otherwise. Still, he cannot help but be certain any blood shared within will come back to haunt them later...
Nalun frowns
I suppose this...is necessary.
He nods to the proprietor. I'll do it.
"Hey, hey, whoa Nalun!" Bravo interjects. "Don't be so godsdamn hasty! At least know what you're getting into before you consent to any demonic ritual!"
The drow woman produces a device from behind the bar, consisting of a needle connected to a clear bag. Krizen, having a bit of medical training, realizes that the bag is that of a major Pact Worlds blood bank.
The drow woman says, ”Our lord demands that blood is spilled. What we do with it does not matter.”
The drow woman produces a device from behind the bar, consisting of a needle connected to a clear bag. Krizen, having a bit of medical training, realizes that the bag is that of a major Pact Worlds blood bank.
The drow woman says, ”Our lord demands that blood is spilled. What we do with it does not matter.”
Bravo raises an eyebrow.
"Wait...that's it? Your crowd doesn't want a spectacle?"
Krizen eyes the blood bank bag. "The will of those within? This seems to be much more in line with the will of those without. Namely yourself. How about a compromise? If your lord demands blood be spilled, and it doesn't matter what is done with it, we spill our own blood, ourselves, and take care of it, ourselves. Will that satisfy "those within"?" Krizen is momentarily reassured by the somewhat familiar sight of the blood bank bag, then realizes that there isn't any way this drow woman should have such a thing and be willing to use it on strangers, ratcheting his anxiety up even further.
”It was to be up to them until one of you volunteered. If you know the proper incantations, go ahead. I am sure that Shax would be pleased by outsiders spilling their own blood.”
Soundbyte is fairly certain that he could not give blood, lacking blood or an equivalent substance. Despite his devotion to Saranrae, he is surprisingly knowledgeable in the procedures of the cult of Shax. There are some rituals that involve blood, but the act of ritualistically shedding blood is something of a sacrament to them. Additionally, he somehow knows the correct incantation to shed blood for Shax.
He emitted a soft mechanical beep as data-archives found the relevant information. The library chip he had installed even had an audio file of a woman speaking the chant, with added background screams and ominous music for authenticity. Very thorough.
From a moral perspective, he respected their decision to go that far for the missions sake, yet he still had doubts as to just what may become of their spilled blood. Still, the very act of ritualistic injury was considered sacred to them, perhaps it truly did not mater what became of it.
"It's your choice to make, friend. /The sacred rite /would you like instruction?" He offered, willing to assist even if it was a practice he himself find distasteful.
Krizen nods his head. "I'm the one suggesting it, so I'll be the one volunteering for it. If you could tell me how to go about this .. rite.. in the correct manner, I'll let my own blood; and keep it too.
Krizen is attentive and alert to whatever Soundbyte can tell him, wanting to be as accurate as possible to satisfy the drowess gatekeeper.
The ritual is simple, but rather painful.
One swift cut on the forearm and an utterance in Abyssal later, the drow woman at the bar seems satisfied. She makes a motion to the door and says, "Go ahead."
Bravo frowns as they do the deed, then grabs the leg off the bar and takes it with him as they enter "The Sanctum."
Krizen winces in pain at the cut, but manages to keep to the script Soundbyte had helpfully given him. He rubs his arm as he follows Bravo in, entertained that they keep carrying the leg around with them. "A little difficult to ask for a hand in determining the right direction with that thing, eh?"