Jeeram watches Senna injure the assassin with a cool look on his face. Once Durok has finished his appeal he speaks up in a calm voice. "Let's not mince words here. Your time is short. Either give us what we demand or you will find yourself...punished," he again glances back to Senna as if to emphasize she was here and there was no help for her now.
Senna's face remains neutral at Jeram's implication but she slips the uppermost buttons at the top of her shirt. "You gentlemen may want to avert your eyes for a moment..." She gives them a chance to act before she pulls down her top to expose from her shoulders to the upper curves of her breasts. The face and claw of a snarling dragon tattoo slithers over one shoulder to tear at her chest. The rest of her skin is liberally covered in eldritch runes, glyphs, and sigils in a variety of ancient tongues. Once she's made sure the assassin has seen her tattoos - or looked away - she fixes her clothing. "It's safe to look."
She pulls a heavy and ancient leather kit from her backpack and lets it rest in her lap. "Here are the questions you should be asking. How did someone like me get the run of a guard station? Or, rather, who wants someone like me dealing with you? What faction or factions decided a cursed and Hell-bound Sraelani sorceress would be useful here? The reputation of people like me is not as investigators but as exterminators."
She absentmindedly strokes the kit in her lap, considering. "Let me be candid. I don't know what factions leaned on the Guard to bring me into the middle of this goat-f@ck... But here I am, and I'm not happy about it. Now, no one yet has made me an offer to 'fix' this problem in a typical flames-and-screaming sorcerous fashion. But I'd be an idiot to believe that isn't coming sooner or later. I imagine that someone will likely ask me to make an example of your employer, your colleagues, their families, your family, and probably your neighbors. I'm not interested in that much slaughter. As an 'investigator' here I could steer matters away from the innocent. But as I said, I'm unhappy doing this sh!t and if you won't help us, I've got no reason to feel charitable toward your loved ones, do I?"
Durok dutifully turns away as instructed. I do hope she doesn't kill the woman right here, I don't fancy spending the winter months imprisoned.
Once he realizes what has transpired, he can't help but think, now I really DO wish I could take you to Feast Day!.
He then raises a hand to cover his mouth,(and the grin spreading across it)
When Senna asks him to avert his eyes he manages to hide his face from the growing blush but does resist the temptation to peek...barely.
Senna's tone is more than enough to chill his ardor though.
She definitely is Sraelani no question! She does her race proud.
The woman's attitude changes from defiant to fearful, though she tries to hide it.
"Sraelani b*~~$! Have you come to finish what another of you damned witches started," she asks, her anger failing to cover the quaver in her voice. She no longer looks any of you in the eyes as she speaks.
"Why don't you rip what you want from my mind and be done with it. Unless you just enjoy the trickery too much."
Senna lets her hands rest on the kit in her lap. She continues pleasantly, "As I said, I'm the straight-talking-flames-and-screaming sort of Sraelani b!tch, not the trickery-and-rip-your-mind sort. Trickery," she says with some contempt as she taps the kit, "is for b!tches that are afraid to get their hands dirty. That's not me. Why don't you tell me about this tricky Sraelani witch, if she dragged you into this job? Then I can go have a 'chat' with her... and she can find out why b!tches like me give b!tches like her nightmares. I'll gladly give her your regards before she dies."
Sensing that Senna has taken control of the conversation Jeram is silent as he awaits the assassin's response.
She knows a Sraelani witch? Was she actually working at the behest of the witches here? Could that be why she is...or WAS unafraid earlier? What hold do these witches have over her?
"Enough! I don't know who cursed that damned belt! If you're going to kill me, then do it and rid me of this shameful body," the woman screams into Senna's face.
You get the feeling that this woman hates her body, or her form at least. If you push on that, you might be able to get her to spill information that you want, Possibly offering to reverse the change in exchange even. She doesn't know who caused the change, and it's likely she considers all Sraelani tricksy and devious, claims to the contrary not withstanding.
Senna raises an eyebrow at that, her mind clicking through the points of information. She pointedly puts the leather kit on the floor. "So, someone gifted you with a cursed belt. Did it turn you into a woman? If you really were a Bloodkiss Brother, that'd be a nasty twist. What happened next? You got a note telling you who you had to kill or you'd be stuck in this body forever? You figured out they aren't going to lift that curse, right?" She gives the assassin a moment to consider that.
"Of course, we could get that curse dispelled. You could be back in your true form in just a few days... if you cooperate with us."
the woman wavers, looking from Senna to Durok and Jeram as if they might give her some insight into the Sraelani's words.
"Damn women, never knowin' when t'leave well 'nough alone nor matters best left t'men," she grumbles.
A cursed item? Magic...fell magic that should be locked away. I must look into this further...
"Well," Jeram lets out a low whistle, "A Cursed belt? I am no arcane expert but the tales i hear say once you don an item you had best learn to curtsy for the rest of your days. However," he pauses for a brief second, "I do share your sympathy here...at least a little. Still you did attempt murder...and this seems a fitting punishment to me, unless..." now he turns to gaze at the 'woman' in her eyes awaiting a response.
"Dark magic is a serious matter indeed. If someone has caused you this condition, we can certainly help alleviate it, but not without your cooperation. If you were coerced into this job, tell us what you know."
Senna gives the assassin a hard, hard look. "Self-pity?" she almost sneers, "Man the f@c< up. You haven't even begun to suffer as a woman in a man's world. Wait til that first fat and sweaty prison guard decides to take his pleasure from you... and you can't stop him. You might be able to wipe his filth from your body but you'll never forget it. Even a body change after that won't wipe away the stain of that memory, I imagine. So, make your choice, now. Tell us what we want to know and maybe get your body back before you become someone's b!tch in every sense of the word... or find out exactly how bad life as a woman in prison can be. And never say I didn't warn you."
She stands up and starts packing the leather kit back into her pack, clearly approaching her limit.
"W-wait! Wait! You said you could reverse this, yeah? Do it and I'll tell ya who hired us," the woman blurts out, now on the verge of panic.
Ahhh now we are getting somewhere!
"Before we can reverse this we need to know exactly what you did to have your sex changed like this, then we can undo what was done...AFTER you tell us who hired you."
She adds lightly, "Oh, he's got to tell us a great deal more than that. I want to hear everything, from how you got set up for the curse to everything that happened until you wound up in this cell."
She retakes a chair and adds for her allies, "I'll be surprised if the person who hired him is the architect of this plot. That's just sloppy for someone clever enough to use a specific curse against a target who would absolutely hate the effect. So we're going to have to follow this chain link by link."
Durok is relatively unknown in Widewaters, but there are several shrines to Cayden and Desna about as well as dozens of chapels of other gods both good and lawful. However, you'd have to go ask them and negotiate such a spell, though Senna's right about having the weight of the guard, and thus the guilds, behind you.
"I dinna do nothin'! Just put on the belt and next thing I know I have t&%$ the size of melons. Probably got a curse put on it by the hag of a wife the Sraelani merchant had," the woman blusters as the topic of how this particular curse got laid on her. "'Aven't been able to get it off neither! I'll tell ya who hired us if ya get this curse off!"
Senna sighs and gets up again. "You're going to talk first - either now or after some guard plays patty-cake with your melons tonight. I don't care either way. But, if you talk now, we'll make sure no guard touches you and we'll get you back to your true sex as soon as it can be arranged. That's the deal - take it or get ready for a rough ride tonight."
While the assassin considers, Senna smiles at the dwarf and asks brightly, "Hey Durok, would you like to hear some Taleni pillow talk?"
The woman grimaces and grits her teeth before sighing in defeat.
"Fine. Go to the wards behind the docks an' start lookin' fer a fella named Bolero. He's the one that hired us. Middleman by me guess. Could find one o' me brudders an' get them t' tell you where they met 'im. Just don't go talkin' like ye got 'em by the short and curlies if ya want t'keep that wagging tongue o' yers," she grumbles, unable to pass up a parting shot.
Jeram nods in mock thanks to the 'woman' assassin, "Thank you for your time, Ma'am."
As the others head out of the cell room Jeram pauses and addresses the others. [smaller]"In addition to tracking down this Bolero and finding out who he works for, we also need to discover how a low-life thug managed to get his hands on such a powerful magical item. I have a...vested interest in tracking that down."
"Where is this 'cursed belt' now?" Durok asks, peeking at the seated lady's waist.
the woman sighs and lifts up the loose tunic she wears to reveal a thick and wide leather belt. It certainly looks well made enough to have some magic about it.
"Well," Jeram glances back to Senna before moving to the exit and leaving the cursed man behind, "I think checking out the whereabouts of the BloodKiss Brothers would be a good idea, before we try to find Bolero."
Outside of the assassin's hearing, Senna responds with little confidence, "I'm not sure of the best path here. She could be aiming us to the Bloodkiss Brothers expecting we'll get snatched and used as a bargaining chip for her freedom or something. It's a stupid idea when you weigh our value against the assassin who butchered a leading citizen of the city... but she doesn't strike me as overly smart."
Being unfamiliar with the area Jeram relies upon his charming personality and good looks...
Eager to be of assistance, Durok chats up anyone he can that might be able to aid them.
Jeram has about as much luck charming people as he would have buying iron from a dwarf with his looks. Durok, on the other hand, manages to follow a trail of rumors and helpful directions to one of the smaller squares that play host to traveling shows and Sraelani caravans. This one has only a few wagons, with one of them looking as if it had recently been in a fire. An older couple that looks to have been injured some weeks ago sits under the shade of a pavilion while a young wainwright and his assistants work on repairs.
"Ah, hello there," the old man says, "I'm afraid I have nothing to sell you today. Perhaps some other time."
"There seems to have been some...recent unpleasantness. Is everyone alright?"
Durok asks, looking over the wagons and the people.
Jeram glances around him trying to get his bearings here. "Yes, good sir, I trust you are doing...better now?"
The old man sighs and waves to the cushions in the pavilion.
"If you have some time, I'll tell you the sad tale of how this came to be. Cursed Blood Kiss Brothers. I hope they enjoy the item they did all of this to steal from me," he says, his demeanor going from apologetic to caustic. He almost spits out the name like a curse.
"'Tis a bad business, that lot. Better that you not hear of our woes and hurts. Come now, it is nearly time for a nice drink and some victuals. Do you favor the sweet? The savory? Perhaps some tea or some strong spirits are more to your liking," the older woman says, her voice strained somewhat as if she is forcing the cheery tone.
Senna cautiously quotes a Sraelani saying. "On the long road, a burden shared is a burden lessened." She nods to the older woman, "I'll help you serve, if you like, mother."
Being an eager fan of all consumable liquids, Durok happily takes a seat.
"We have been tasked with an investigation that has, thus far, lead us to these 'bloodkiss brothers'. Anything you can tell us about them would be very helpful."
"I would be more than happy to have some tea," Jeram nods, taking a seat next to Durok. "I must say, we have had run-ins with them before and wish to...repay their generosity!"
"And joy shared is multiplied," the woman adds, "Bless you child, but you are a guest. My granddaughters can handle things. Please have a seat."
The old man scowls at the mention of the Blood Kiss Brothers and the woman sighs.
"I'm sorry that you have had the misfortune of running across that lot. They heard that I had an enchanted belt, but when I tried to explain the belt wasn't for sale and cursed, they beat us and set fire to our wagon. If you're going to bring those hoodlums to justice, then I'll gladly tell you whatever you want to know."
"We found the location of your belt. Are you able to remove it from its unintended wearer? We could see it returned to you if you could reverse its effects."
"No, I'm not a practitioner of the art like the young lady there and my wife nor am I a priest blessed with the divine power of the gods. If one of the oafs put it on it's no less than what they deserve," the old man replies.
"It was only by chance we even found the thing. We were hoping to get the curse lifted without breaking the enchantment, but we hadn't found anyone capable of it, and I'm too unskilled to do it myself," the woman adds as four young girls come out carrying tea and plates of pastries both sweet and savory.
"Where, exactly, did you find the belt?" Jeram asks in a casual voice.
Senna sits, taking tea and a savory treat. "Oh, I'm just a humble tattooist." She says lightly with a wink to the old gentleman. "I'm curious how the Brothers found out you had a belt and why they didn't believe your warnings. Did they say anything about the belt or why they wanted it?"
"I'm afraid that I don't know how found out about it. I guess they may have gotten word from someone overhearing me asking around for a mage and figured I'd only be doing that if I had something magically empowered. They just showed up and demanded that I had over the belt, and when I didn't do so immediately, they did this," the man explains waving a hand around to indicate his and his wife's injuries and the scorched cart.
"We found the belt on an ogre that attacked our caravan. It was quite the surprise to find out one of them was a she-ogre. I think it scarred a couple of the poor lads when they noticed after killing the brute," the older woman says.
"Ahh I see," Jeram replies with a slight note of disappointment. "I would not recommend keeping such items for long," he adds, sipping how own cup of tea. "Such cursed items tend to exert a malign influence on those who carry, or even are in close proximity, to such items...or so I've heard anyway." Setting his cup down he turns to face the elder gentleman, "If you could direct us to where you last encountered them, we would most appreciate it."
Durok looks over the damage and the injuries as best as he can.
Sipping the tea, he listens and tries to make sense of the puzzle pieces.
"Advice well taken," the old man replies to Jeram. "We were right here when they attacked us, but if it's them you're looking for, then find Jassi Greyfeather on the river just north of here. Word is she knows where they like to hide and they leave her alone 'cause of it."
"This is, indeed, precious information. Thank you for trusting us with it. We will do what we can to get to the bottom of this mess. Please let us know if we can do anything to ease the suffering these men have caused you." Durok says, eager to follow this new lead, but not wanting to rush the others through the visit.
Then he chuckles to himself a bit as he realizes the phrase 'these men' isn't really quite accurate.
"Thank you kindly, Master dwarf, but we're fine. Just make sure those brutes can hurt no one else," The old woman replies.
"I believe we should head to the docks to track down this Jassi. Seems like the best lead we have now."