Kira nods, trying to keep a slightly star-struck look on her face. "In these troubled times it seems the dottari aren't getting the respect they deserve, and we'd like to change that by letting the citizenry know of some of the fine work you're doing."
She nearly winces as she hears herself. The attempt at flattery was far too obvious in her opinion. But hopefully Pellius can smooth over any rough edges in her performance.
Pellius nods emphatically at Kira's words. "Yes, yes, yer honourship... you and yer brethren are what this... citizenship... needs to emasculate in these harsh times of trial! We need yer grace... yer wit... yer ... yer.... experticenesocity! Please, let us talk with your gracelessness and spread yer honours to the overwashed masses of the city!"
Pellius smiles a wide, subserviant smile and bows close to the ground.
"Ye won't be regerting this, yer honourship! We will carry out this charge to the fullest extent of our capacity."
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Finding a scrap of paper, Adonara idly doodles some hopeful designs of imagined banners to adorn the eventual expulsion of Thrune from Kintargo as she mulls over what she’s been able to glean about the Holding House. If the Torrent Hellknights can be spirited away safely enough, a first banner might come in handy quite shortly even if the triumph of virtue and liberty is still a distant dream. I wonder if Tanaquil still has that blue stuff that she said she was quite unsure what to do with now. And as much as it would be lovely, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if we don’t have actual silver yet…
After a few more minutes, she takes her leave, deciding to walk past the prison one more time just on the off chance that inspiration strikes.
Pellius leans over to Kira and says, "Write down "undesirables inside Kintargo'."
Turning back to the man, he smiles wide. "I knows ye cannot comint on who might be inside, good sir, but tells us. Is there anyone with treason in their boots that the good masses would be shocked ta learn of their... wholesomenessicity...?"
Kira dutifully writes down what Pellius suggests, then looks up with the star-struck expression still on her face. "The Order of the Torrent? They must have been quite difficult to capture." She shivers theatrically. "And such terrible criminals are all housed together in a holding station? Surely they must be scheduled for immediate transport to a secure facility."
Pellius nods emphatically at the guard's words.
"Aye, the watch must come forth to acquiesce these men of their crimes... that they be deserving of everlasting redemption fer! Does ye do the confessing of these men, er does our mighty Lord Thrune," Pellius pauses as he says this, bows toward the opera house and says softer, "- Lord Thrune-" before turning back as if nothing was off and continues his sentence, "er his thrice damned court do the interrogativity with them?"
"And how long do you expect these interrogations to last?" Kira adds. With another dramatic shiver, she 'admits,' "Not that I have any doubt regarding your ability to contain these men, but I must say I'll sleep better once they're no longer in Kintargo. Especially with their leader still missing!"
"That's all very interesting." Kira jots down a few notes in her notebook. "I'm sure the citizenry would be very interested to know of your efforts, and it could help improve the dottari's morale in these difficult times to know how much they are appreciated." She glances sideways at Pellius, then back at the guard. "I believe that's enough to start with. If, however, we wanted to interview your captain at some point...when would be a good time?"
Pellius nods, thoughtfully. "Of course, yer dreadship, of course. We mere citizens and neighbors cannot fathom the greatness within yer captain's mind." He bows low and raises his head.
"Still, she might be best suited to give us common overburdened masses a hindsight in t' what makes these.... wretched traitors... tick. How they think their plots and plot their thoughts. How best t' be on the vigitance fer more of 'em, hiding in amongst the citizenry. We not be th' best at recorden' er askin' such thoughts. Our boss, howe'r, has a way with the verbitudiness tha' maken' the common man weep. Perhaps she might be able t' speak with yer captain on our return? As a favor t' us citizens... to make us better quipped to spot the unseen rot of virtue within our city."
Pellius rises and claps the man on his shoulder in an overly friendly way.
"Of coursen, my brave man. Can't be expectin' ye to desert yer post on account of us to ask a favor, eh? We will be back in a few hours, my good brave one, with our boss 'n' her retinue. Until then, keep watch." He lets the man's arm go and looks into his eyes. "Be vigitant! Kintargo be holdin' on a thread.... yer charge be to keep us froum these wolves within. Fer now, ado!" Turning to Kira, he nods.
"Come, neighbor!" So saying, he trots off in a seemingly random direction.
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Some time later, Adonara steers her path back past the Holding House again on the way to her apartment. Before turning the last corner before the jail, she tugs up the edges of the hood of her cloak – not all the way, just enough to make her golden head less conspicuous – and prepares to exert arcane senses as she walks by.
With that, Adonara considers the time of afternoon. Calculating that she’ll have just enough time before the others arrive at her flat, she tracks down her colleague Tanaquil for a quick word about a side-project Adonara thinks she and their mutual friends among those of Kintargo’s courtesans with a gift for needlework might be able to help with, particularly while the curfew limits their usual activities of an evening.
While the elf chatters away, tracking down paper and charcoal to sketch out a larger-scale rough pattern of what she’s got in mind, and inquiring about fabrics and stitches, Tanaquil notes that Adonara has slowly settled herself more comfortably in the city in the past few weeks. Half a dozen new books have appeared in the parlour – most of them officially forbidden, if the title of the one on top is anything to go by. There's also a large mirror – as befits the Silver City – whose tarnished edges set off the antique’s baroque frame rather well, and an exceedingly improbable new print with the patriotic slogan “Hell truly serves Cheliax” as caption. While it is just barely conceivable that Her Infernal Majestrix could comfortably assume the represented position and be interested in doing so with the erinys Contessa Lrilatha, the overall effect oscillates between satire and sensuality from moment to moment as one views the illustration.
“Surely your salle de séjour doesn’t count as a place of public business, Ado,” Tanaquil gapes at last, noting the portrait does meet the requirements of the Lord-Mayor’s Second Proclamation.
“Certainly not! But out of solidarity with the honest, hard-working citizens of Kintargo… What do you think?” But Adonara’s referring to her now-completed sketch, whose animal emblem now unquestionably indicates what she’s mixing herself up in.
“Shelyn save us. They’re really back, then, and somehow you know someone…” Her friend is nervous, but not so much as not to observe, “and this is huge! Are you planning on flying it from the House of Golden Veils?”
“Satin Veils, and I’d fly it from the spire of the temple of Asmodeus if I could,” Adonara corrects, as if by reflex. “Never you mind about the whithertos and the whyfors. Of course I know someone, who knows someone, and so forth, but I’m not going to ask you and the other lovelies to do anything especially risky if I can help it. If you’re interested – and no harm done if it seems too dangerous – how soon could you get it done?”
“If Lewilla and Phlox help, and maybe one or two others, and if you trust us to adjust the design as may be required…” It doesn’t take too long sort out the remaining details, and before long, Adonara gently ushers Tanaquil out the door, pleading a prior engagement. She knows she can trust her, but Tana’s not that sort of adventuress, and while it’s alright if her colleague correctly suspects Adonara is a Raven herself, Adonara doesn’t need to put the others at risk by making too many introductions.
Remembering that Pellius drinks tea, she puts the kettle on over the kitchen fire, collects glasses while considering the rest of her beverage situation, and re-tidies her parlour again, collecting books and papers and fluffing cushions. And then, she waits to receive her callers.
As the dynamic duo leaves, Ryker pulls out one more map to reminisce over before getting up to leave.
Following the directions of a friendly Kintargan, he ends up at Adonara's place. Do you knock when you're expected? I think if you- F#!& it. He pushes the door open.
"I've arrived," he says briefly, closing the door behind him quickly and taking a seat. How did I manage to be the first one here? Could have sworn I did a lap around the damn city.
Kira gives the guard one last smile. "Thank you so much for speaking with us, and also thank you for the good work you're doing to keep Kintargo safe." And with that, she scampers after Pellius. (She needs to scamper a bit, given the relative sizes of their legs.)
Some time later, she finds herself knocking on the door of Adonara's flat. "Hello? We've made it back, with some interesting information." She sinks down into one of the comfortable chairs.
Once everyone's present, she gives a quick report. "The Order of the Torrent is indeed being held there, and will be for a few more days at least. They're currently undergoing...interrogation." She grimaces. "Apparently Thrune sent someone who's 'an expert in torture' to do the interrogating. Once they talk they'll be transferred, so we need to move fast. Pellius asked if there was any way to have our 'boss'," (she sends a significant look towards Adonara), "talk to the captain later this afternoon. No guarantees, but the guard said he'd pass the message along. If we can get the captain out of there for an interview, it might make it easier to sneak out the prisoners."
She sighs. "That's about all we learned. What about you?"
Pellius nods as Kira goes over their findings, his continence more dignified than the past hour would have allowed. He sips on the offered tea, smiling.
"Thank you. Tea is just what I need to wash the toady aftertaste from my mouth. We might be able to get to see the captain and introduce you to her. Assuming we can get her alone, I can try using a combination of magic and forgery to... convince... her to release the prisoners, but we will need a second group to take custody of them. Thoughts?"
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“I like it,” Adonara smiles, “but I wonder if we can combine the two groups, or have them visit at the same time. We risk straining coincidence remarkably if too many friendly, inquisitive groups stagger their arrival.”
While she works on the problem in the back of her thoughts, she delivers her own findings, with a nod to Kira to acknowledge where they overlap. “Poking about, it seems the gossip is convinced that the torturer is a fiend of some sort. But that’s about all there is to tell: apparently they’ve been there for weeks already, but the guards don’t often interact with the locals. They must be quite intent on making their very own cozy little oubliette.”
“That said, orders and prisoners keep coming, even if nothing else is going, normally, and that frequently enough that I was able to find out that the seal of Lord Thrune greatly expedites matters.”
After a few more minutes of thought, Adonara waves her hand lightly. With her own cup of tea in the other, the gesture, if not the words that follow, would be perfectly in keeping with conversation at an afternoon visit. “I think I have an idea! That persona that I was thinking of cultivating – Lady Erycina – might stop by, on her way to joining friends in the Greens, bursting with patriotic curiosity, but also eager to do her duty by writers she supports at the Kintargan Gazette, and a favour for one of her dear friends who needs volunteers for a drama she’s staging. If we can also get Nox into even more trouble at the same time, so much the better…”
She catches a glance of her reflection in the mirror. “Besides, I’ve been thinking for a bit that it might be amusing to try a new look.”
Pellius' brow furrows.
"That is partially why I want there to be multiple groups. Implant the idea that, say..." the singer looks around, and finds a piece of paper and an ink pen and scribbles a signature that looks like Thrune's at passing glance but with a few particular quirks to make it not quite right, "the next time this captain sees a signature like this that she follow the order without question and then burn the order afterwords. Now it wouldn't work if the order was something that would harm her or directly threaten her... normal motives. But transferring prisoners from one place to another?" Pellius smiles grimly. "That is a reasonable enough order. And burning the letter for 'extra secrecy' in trying times would not be an abnormal practice either. I will grant that there is added risk involved in having a second group arrive... but with a proper application of make up and disguises, we can make it look like an unrelated prison transfer that happened to occur a few hours after we left. Nothing that visibly ties one to the other, and no left over evidence afterwords to tie any of us to it."
"Be a guardsman and escort prisoners? Sure thing, should be easy enough," Ryker admits. "What about relocating the knights? We should probably get that situated before we have them."
Reclining in his chair, he rests his feet on the nearby ottoman and turns his head to the side to peruse the glass liquor cabinet, while the brains continue their work. Is everything Kintargan? Maybe I'll pass. Nothing quite like an Ustalavi vodka or a Varisian tequila. Those traveling caravans sure know how to distill a drink!
During a pause in the conversation, he points at the cabinet. "What else do you have behind the counter? Anything special tucked away? Feel like scheming of this magnitude calls for something stiff!"
Pellius glances over to Ryker and smiles. "Where to indeed. We have someplace to move them where they will be safe, although..." the bard pauses a momemnt, his face becoming pensive, "although we might want to have a second spot in between where we can make them look like something other than prisoners. That said, the goal will be to get them to their beloved leader, currently just outside of town."
Turning back to Adonara, he runs his fingers through his hair. "New look, huh. How about a new look to you? Between magic and a bit of artful disguise we should be able to make you look like our dearest friend to take a knife to her neck and walk away from it. Having seen her, I should be able to replicate her... well, for lack of words, scary beyond all reason aura. What do you say, care to try your hand at acting?" He smiles, and amends, "Well, what would more be considered acting in the theatrical sense of the word."
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"Be a guardsman and escort prisoners? Sure thing, should be easy enough," Ryker admits. "What about relocating the knights? We should probably get that situated before we have them."
Reclining in his chair, he rests his feet on the nearby ottoman and turns his head to the side to peruse the glass liquor cabinet, while the brains continue their work. Is everything Kintargan? Maybe I'll pass. Nothing quite like an Ustalavi vodka or a Varisian tequila. Those traveling caravans sure know how to distill a drink!
During a pause in the conversation, he points at the cabinet. "What else do you have behind the counter? Anything special tucked away? Feel like scheming of this magnitude calls for something stiff!"
“Precisely. As the person who’ll be swinging the heaviest sword around if it comes to that, any thoughts on how messy it would get if, goddess forbid, a couple of us had to kick up a fuss to force entry while the rest fought our way back out?” Adonara asks, checking her bottles. There’s a nice Corentyn vintage mixed in with less distinguished usual, but as for stronger things – there’s some mead, and various amounts of mainly sweet or fruity liqueurs, but she seems to be out of absinthe. But she is able to turn up a half-bottle of Vauntil vodka that she passes over.
“But putting it that way, that does sound like a good plan,” she says, turning back to Pellius. “We’ll just need to plan for as many complications as possible. First, how hard we can strike if things go awry? I shudder to think what it would be like to try to re-take the place and abscond with the prisoners if we have to retreat with the prison once alerted. Especially since these seem to be proper dottari, not those Chelish Citizens' Group creatures. On that note, though, I was able to take a quick look for magic on the way back – no, I don’t think I was noticed – and found only three mobile signatures, so I don’t think we’ll have to worry about magical locks, or too much arcane resistance. Secondly, assuming everything goes according to plan, can we hope to march the knights right out the city gate? We haven’t yet heard from Captain Sargaeta, and what he wants from us. If we have to hide them for a night, what did you have in mind?”
Adonara looks around her in some consternation, as if already imagining trying to store, however temporarily, a dozen fugitive knights in her parlour.
“I have a reputation to maintain!” she exclaims. She is too well trained in triviality to be at all serious for very long, though, and continues momentarily with a scandalous grin. “By all means. I have to do something to fan the feverish imaginations of your sex – begging your pardon, gentlemen – since I’m afraid I’m the sort of lady who must leave them disappointed.”
1. Adonara, Kira, and Pellius reprise the journalist ploy to gain access to the commander of the prison, who we’ll try to catch with a suggestion to accept more faked orders to release the prisoners to an imminent "third party," so to speak.
1.a. Meanwhile, Ryker and Valekar lurk ready to cut through the doors if something goes wrong and we have to beat a fighting retreat.
2. After a suitable interval, all of us, disguised as dottari or whatever, with Adonara made-up/enspelled to look like Nox, show up to take custody of the prisoners, with whom we walk off.
3. ???
4. Profit. ;)
On a logistical note: No one’s claimed the daredevil boots, so they’re a fine candidate to be traded in for a wand of disguise self for Phase 2, I think, and we have various odds and ends that could go for a scroll of knock or whatever, if we can find such a thing.
We already have scrolls of misdirection, pass without trace, silence, and undetectable alignment that we should probably bring along, just in case.
Pellius taps the side of his head.
"Yes, moving them somewhere might be an issue. The Nest is out, given we don't want to draw the attention to it. So is any one of our private homes for similar reasons. Hells, even the docks might not be a good place... too many eyes and too little control over them."
Pellius' brow furrows. Think. Where is somewhere we know will be safe to bring them to but won't directly lead back to any of us if we are observed...
A smile suddenly plays over his face.
"How about we bring them to the Fair Fortune? It might not be the most... accommodating... place we have been, but it most likely has not been taken over by anything since we cleared it. It even has space for us to keep them secreted away if things end up being a bit more... bloody... than we are hoping for. Thoughts?"
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“It’s not particularly secure, but it’s probably the best of our poor options. If it comes to that, someone might have to stay with to coordinate scatter if the dottari manage to track us down that quickly. It’s fairly close to the Ravounel road, though, which might be an advantage,” Adonara considers. She falls briskly to practical details forthwith.
“If we’re going to do it in two steps, we’ll need a letter of introduction and the false release orders, and a marginal mundane disguise for yours truly might also be advisable. Nothing too elaborate,” she concedes almost mournfully, “just something quick with my hair and make-up while we work on the forgeries. Someone might run to the Newt Market in the meantime, as well.”
She disappears briefly to wash her hair with improbable expedition, emerging with her hands already beginning to set it in tight ringlets.
“It won’t hold for long, but it won’t have to,” she explains, as she indicates where she keeps her writing implements, before resuming her seat and a slightly more arch demeanour, “Now, His Most Exquisite Thruniness is a cleric, is not he? Let me consider the appropriate terms of endearment.”
She means, of course, the forms of address, both to and from an Asmodean of his rank. Her own training in religion and the polite arts let her help to find a plausible phrasing for both granting an aristocratic civilian a tour for the purposes of research for pious and patriotic ephemera, and, embedded within it, further instructions that said civilian is a trusted agent saving the Lord High Inquisitor some time and manpower by delivering further special sealed orders, &c.
Ryker takes the bottle of vodka and looks it over appraisingly. Good thing I asked! Not around a mercenary campfire, so let's find a proper glass. Perusing the adjacent class cabinet, he spies a wide-set tumbler. Smiling, he plucks it out of the cabinet and pours out a double. "Looks about right, thank you," he says leaving the bottle on the table.
"Now... How messy? The way I see it, we need to go in, out, then for a walk. The later in that process we use violence, the better it'll go for us. Any real response will need a little time to mobilize, but once they do, we'll be had. No way we can out maneuver a guard on alert with all those prisoners."
He takes a sip of his drink. He closes his eyes and nods his head as it gently bites his tongue, before burning down his throat and to his stomach. Once the burning settles to a smoldering warmth, he continues.
"At the least, we have to go in without violence. If violence erupts on the way out, we have options. Splitting the group, arming them, etc. The heavy hitter on their side, that we know of, is going to be whatever Devil they brought in for interrogation. So if things do go South, first priority is that thing. Ideally, we'd seal the entrance so none of the guards can escape to raise the alarm, but I'm doubtful that's possible, so prioritizing the Devil is our best bet," he concludes.
He takes another sip.
"I can carry a few extra arms on me, wouldn't be too suspicious as a guard. I'll bring some, just in case." Having said his piece, he relaxes back into his chair and enjoys his drink as it gently numbs any budding worry from his brain.
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Kira looks embarrassed. "Unfortunately I'm not going to be any help with the forgery. My handwriting's decent, but not for something like this. On the bright side," (she sits up a little straighter), "If things go south once we're in I should be able to take several guards out of the combat with just one spell. It's really quite interesting, you see, there are certain patterns-" She cuts herself off before she starts to ramble. "Sorry. But it is a really helpful spell."
"While everyone else is working on the forgery or shopping, do you think I should go fetch Vendalfek? He could maybe do some more scouting while we, er, talk with the commander."
Pellius nods and breaks out some of the gilded paper they had recovered from their last adventure in infiltration.
He spends more effort and time crafting the letter of introduction than the order for release, consulting with Adonara on both as he does.
"After all, the second letter will be worthless if we cannot get in to see her in the first place. And hopefully they will not be... as keen... on examining the second letter in any detail."
When he gets to the signature line on both, he pauses. "We need them to be identical to each other, and close enough to our dearest Lord's childlike scrawl to pass casual inspection... but there has to be one difference that the man would be unlikely to add himself. Otherwise if someone else shows up with an actual order from the man it would trigger the spell and waste our previous efforts. Thoughts?"
Once done, Pellius takes some powder and lightly blows it over it to dry it more efficiently.
"There. Now we need to find a... wait..." Pellius' face furrows in thought for a moment, then he smiles widely and turns to Kira. "You, my friend, are an absolute genius, on the off chance you did not know it already. Yes, go get Vendalfek. I have an idea that might just be too perfect." He turns back to Adonara, laughing.
"Why attempt to forge the seal when we can, in theory, have our trickster dragon friend literally steal a few genuine ones?"
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“Vendalfek!” Adonara echoes, sitting up straighter in surprise. Mercifully, her instincts jerk her mascara brush safely away from her eye in the motion. “How thoughtless of me! We could ask, but I wouldn’t blame the poor dear for being cagey. Little dragon he may be, but I know if I was a tyrant I would prioritize known but unseen, unpredictable threats. But we could ask him, or at least to come along and scout invisibly, filling us in mentally as he goes, with the understanding that he’s absolutely free to clear out as soon as we’re done, he gets noticed, or all hell breaks loose.”
Adonara turns her thoughts to how to personalize the orders to make sure nothing else arrives to muddy the waters, her tone eventually parodying an Asmodean's smug pretentiousness. “Why not add to our introduction the instruction to expect a small sign of a tower accompanying the signature on the orders the commander should be expecting after our first interview, ‘recognizing that the bearer is a beacon of our faith in the Prince of Darkness,’ and so forth?”
She adds a last few contributions to Ryker and Kira’s discussion of useful equipment and magic, contributing a small mace and a pair of manacles from what she has on hand, and the addition of a locking spell to their shopping list for the Newt Market.
“Don’t apologize,” she smiles. “Magic is always fascinating.”
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After Kira wins over Vendalfek for a bit of scouting and Valekar does a bit of shopping, there’s a brief moment of respite that lets Adonara put the finishing touches on her first costume, finding a way to fold and drape her cloak bright side out so that it hangs rather short indeed.
After a bit of fussing, she thinks she’s got it: the overall look she’s going for is a fashionable sportswoman on her way to a hunt after finishing her business in the city. Her light armour and weaponry are, she hopes, suitably plausible and unthreatening: boars, say, can be dangerous, after all, and everyone carries a knife, surely, while few people expect a whip to be of as much use against armoured targets as it is in Adonara’s hands. If she looks like a positive poseuse, out more to see and be seen than participate as such, so much the better.
With her hair pulled back tight in temporary curls and bolder eyeliner than she would normally go for, Adonara cuts rather a different figure than she normally does. She flashes an apologetic grin at Pellius. “Was it like this at the Opera? Hearts fluttering backstage like fans in the boxes, everyone rushing to put their faces on, practicing their attitudes, running over their trickiest arias, to the last minute?”
Before too long, Valekar returns, disbursing needed and very welcome supplies. When Vendalfek comes back too, with an ample report and a seal to copy, Adonara’s ecstatic.
“You’re a lifesaver, sweetheart! The bards will lift your name to the stars! Well, once we drive out some devils and their minions and it’s safer to boast. As much of the finest coffee possible first, in the meantime, at least, if you like,” she exclaims, referring to the small dragon’s need to be introduced to the beverage when he and the Ravens first met.