Rissi cringes and rubs her finger tips, "Of course m'Lady. An Please don't report my ineptitude to your Momma! You're here to be entertained, and I to learn. I'll try to stay out of your way...." She promptly turns and trips to 'face plant' almost directly in front of Talienda. But then rolls out of the way before she can cause Talienda to actually trip over her.
The crowd looks curiously at Talienda and Rissi’s antics. Some snickering when seeing the clearly out-of-place duo, but do little else.
A young fortune teller smiles brightly when his eyes meet Talib’s. A sign on the ground marks his tent as Antares Auguries and Auspices.
He stays near the group on the approach, so that they can put the finishing touches on their plan. He halts when they are within sight of the entrance, but not within hearing range. "This is the place all right," he says. "Note the tattoos on the two bouncers." He looks up at the second floor. "I'll break off from the group, circle around and see if I can find an entrance to the second floor. The back door will most likely be guarded, so I'll stay clear of that."
Talib nods to the Falcon, eyeing the bouncers appraisingly. "Be careful."
As the group approaches, he tucks his holy symbol into his breast pocket. "I will take point. Sekla, watch our backs."
The crowd looks curiously at Talienda and Rissi’s antics. Some snickering when seeing the clearly out-of-place duo, but do little else.
"O Judge of the Gods, lend me patience..."
The inquisitor wrenches Rissi to her feet, and inclines his head deferentially towards 'Lady Black Rose.' "Follow me, mistress. I will clear away the rabble."
He squints at the nearest onlookers and scowls. "What are you looking at?"
With a measured stride, he makes his way to the doors. Pausing at the threshold, he stares down the bouncers as Talienda and Rissi catch up, brushing past the tattooed thugs as they do. He makes no outright threatening gestures, but everything in his expression and posture contributes to an overall aura of silent menace and barely contained violence.
A young fortune teller smiles brightly when his eyes meet Talib’s. A sign on the ground marks his tent as Antares Auguries and Auspices.
Talib makes no sign of having noticed the tent or its inhabitant, though he does run through his mental check list of contacts and various other associates. "Do I know him from somewhere?"
The Shining Falcon puts two fingers to his mask at the temple, by way of greeting. "No telling what we'll run into. I'll try to send a signal." With that, he retreats back the way they came to circle around the building. The hunt is on, it seems.
Finding a quiet spot, he gets a better look at the building, looking for way to enter on the second floor. Maybe an open window, or a roof adjacent that will let me start from the advantage?
With Talib's help Rissi quickly gets her feet under her. She pretends to be angry at the man, but takes a "proper" subservient posture to the side of Talienda and follows.
The guards briefly stare at Talib when as he waits for the others, but make no attempt at talking to the inquisitor, apparently realising that their usual intimidation tricks would be of little use. With Talienda, Sekla and Rissi following closely behind they all enter unimpeded.
As soon as Talib enters, the tattooed men exchange a knowing look and nod.
Inside, they find themselves in a small room filled with the typical denizens of the puddles grouped in roughly two lines. Each queue ends at small grated windows where two clerks, a bored-looking human and the other, rather surprisingly, a peach-skinned gillman, charge a copper for entering the Manor’s main hall.
A cased opening to the right of the group has a guard on each side and gives a glimpse into a large room filled with bleachers. Though the wrestling area itself is below the ground, the sound of laughter, boos and cheers indicate an ongoing match.
It doesn’t take much effort to find an open window, but it might be difficult to enter without attracting attention in broad daylight amongst so many passersby.
He could alternatively try to climb the only three-storied house nearby from an alley adjacent to it and jump from there onto the roof of the Manor. Due to the distance between the two buildings, however, it would be a difficult jump.
Talienda relaxes a little and lets her inner thespian out a little more.
"Thank you," she says to Talib without sounding particularly thankful, "At least I have some competent help!"
She moves in behind Talib as he clears the way and continues to draw attention to herself with her rambling, badly composed descriptions of what a dreary mess her life is and how she is hoping that Rissi hasn't been lying to her again, occasionally turning to glare at the ratfolk and managing to slip in a wink of her own when she was certain that no one else could see it.
Once inside, Talienda found her spirit faltering. She thought she'd been prepared, but hearing the ongoing fight, she feels her resolve eroding. She takes in a deep breath, steadying herself and steeling her nerves against what is to come and looks imperiously to Talib.
"I suppose that this dank and dingy domicile is too poor to even have better seats for those of higher station," she asks in a petulant tone, "No? Very well, Find us four seats where we will have a good view. I have been dreadfully board of late and perhaps this will improve my mood enough to keep me from seeing if they would be interested in having the miserable minstrel fight."
This won't do, The Shining Falcon thinks to himself while looking at the open window. I wasn't supposed to provide the distraction by getting myself noticed. Pulling his cloak close he withdraws further to the nearby alley. To the roof, then. It's a difficult jump. I should be able to make it, Horus willing.
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Seeing the glance between the two men, Rissi consideres their expressions. Some sort of plot? Or condescension for Talib being on "baby-sitting" duty.... ??
Picking up on Talienda's "rant" Rissi moves around The Lady, trying to "show" the better side of the run down building. She tries, likely unsuccessfully, to point out how the seating would have looked much better when it was new.... But that now the fabric is "broken in" and more comfortable!
When Talienda mentions having her "miserable minstrel fight", she effects pure terror. "My lady! Please don't ask that! I'm a musician! What if one of those nasty creatures hurt my delicate fingers!?! Please!"
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She takes in a deep breath, steadying herself and steeling her nerves against what is to come and looks imperiously to Talib.
"I suppose that this dank and dingy domicile is too poor to even have better seats for those of higher station," she asks in a petulant tone, "No? Very well, Find us four seats where we will have a good view."
Talib bows with the assumed lassitude of a long-suffering majordomo. "Yes, my lady."
He leads the way and finds—or clears away, if need be—enough space for everyone. The inquisitor makes sure they have their backs to the wall, and that the seats immediately to the front and sides of Talienda's and Rissi's are vacant, so that he and Sekla can keep watch and stop anyone from approaching if need be.
As he moves through the bleachers, Talib looks for an obvious bookmarker or anyone else who looks to be in charge of the betting. He also counts the guards, and makes note of all entrances and exits.
Sekla is a dour presence at Talienda's back, her full plate armor setting her immediately apart from the rabble and toughs that throng the area. Entering the manor, she quickly forgets the supposed cover story they're working with, and instead focuses on quartering the premises, trying to identify the greatest threats, and watching everybody who comes within striking distance of her charge.
Though of course it's futile; there's nothing she could do to stop a crossbow bolt, a hurled spell, or even a lightning attack from out of the crowd.
It puts her on edge, and she glowers all the more, her crimson eyes ceaselessly roving, anticipating trouble, her hand itching to draw her weapon.
"Then pray they are entertaining," Talienda sneers at Rissi before taking the seat that Talib had cleared for her. She fins his and Sekla's presence reassuring here. At least if trouble comes, they'd have a chance of getting out, but she can't help but notice the way her new bodyguard is bristling. She leans back and whispers just loud enough for Sekla to hear.
"If they come after me, they'll probably want to kidnap me, not kill me. The stupid daughter of a noble or merchant is worth more alive than dead, I'm betting."
Sekla considers, then leans down to whisper back.
Talienda fakes an overly wrought exasperated expression as she whispers back.
"No one I'd care to meet."
Sekla growls something back.
Talienda gives an almost imperceptible nod to indicate she understood before returning her attention to the fight at hand.
Before they settle into their seats, Rissi quietly gets Talib's attention. "Those guards, I'm not sure why but they exchanged a glance as we passed. Seemed focused on you though, either recognition... or maybe they were just amused at you doing 'baby-sitting duty'. Thought you would want to know."
Then she sits, scanning the room for any dangers while pretending to be intimidated by and attentive to Talienda.
"The fights here m'Lady.... They'll be much more entertaining than anything this old rat could do. You'd be bored quick watching me get thrashed out there!"
"Perhaps you're right, but they may have someone suitably decrepit that you would be a challenge."
Talienda enters the main hall, accompanied by Talib, Rissi and her bodyguard. The four are greeted by the stench of sweat and the noise of a small laughing crowd of humans and goblinoids sat on flimsy wooden bleachers. The whole room is arranged around a hole in its centre where one goblin in clown make-up is restraining a weaker goblin whilst a third, completely naked, punches the grappled creature. The ceiling is remarkably low for a venue of the sort and Talib is sure he could touch if he were to stand on the top row and stretch his arm.
Besides the arena and the audience, there are two other points of interest. First, a couple of grated windows similar to the one in the entrance where people seem to be placing bets; above it there is a wooden sign with what are presumably the fighters of the day. Second, a door apparently guarded by another tattooed man.
In all, Talib sees 5 burly men and women who are most likely guarding the place (though none besides the one by the door seem to take their jobs very seriously).
After the four find suitable seats, they are quickly assailed by a gnome with an extremely long and pointy nose. “Oi! M’lady, m’mouse! Care for some rubbish to throw at them? I have rotten eggs, tomatoes and stones — really pointy ones! Make such a good thump! I also have some refreshments. Some ale for the weak and some goblin moonshine for the adventurous!”
The masked man quickly goes to a quiet alley and climbs the building. Once at the top, he stares at the unsuspecting people below for a few seconds — one of the tattooed guards slaps a goblin as the creature walks by, a street urchin runs down the street pursued by a shrieking elven woman — before taking a deep breath and gracefully jumping down to the roof of the manor. He quietly hangs from the edge of the roof and enters through the open window he had spotted before.
It is a small room of 5x10 feet with a child-size cot and a small chest at its feet. There is only one door which the Falcon discovers he can nudge slightly ajar to see a narrow corridor with other doors, but a flimsy lock and chain set on the outside prevent him from exiting. Sounds of laughter and fighting come from below where, he assumes, a match is ongoing.
Sekla looms behind Talienda all the while, hand resting on the pommel of her battleax, gaze ceaselessly roving over the crowd, checking the exits, the guards, the points of interest.
She doesn't look at the goblins fighting in the center. In fact, she seems to studiously avoid them. There's a line of tension across her jaw, however, and she fairly radiates anger as takes in the scene.
Noticing the gnome approaching Rissi moves in front of Talienda. Hearing the 'sales pitch' she turns, "Oh Lady! Perhaps you could spare a coin? Just a little one, for a couple tomatoes? If I hit with a couple of them it would look almost like blood! And if I do good enough, maybe you'd spare me from a match? Those gobbers don't look all that small for one such as me! Please, let me throw some tomatoes for you lady...."
"Sir gnome, how much for a few small tomatoes?"
The gnome looks at Talienda, then looks at Rissi and his smile widens. “For you and the pretty woman, m’mouse, it’s special! Offer! Two for the price of one! The two smelliest for one gold coin! Two for one! It’ll be a real treat, seeing these rotten things all over their rotten faces, I’ll tell ya!”
The gnome is without a shadow of doubt inflating the prices due to Talienda’s appearance.
"You must take me for a fool," Talienda says, not at all feigning her annoyance. "A crown for a couple of rotten tomatoes, ha! I'd sooner dance naked through all the market squares of Absolom. A copper penny for five of your miserable missiles for my minstrel here to try her luck," she says with as much scorn as she could put into her voice.
In truth, she would be happier if he just left in a huff. No creature, even goblins, deserved the treatment they received here. She'd been having to work harder and harder to watch without her face moving from the affected expression of boredom and disdain.
She only hoped that this would be over quickly.
The Falcon silently curses his luck. Why would they lock an empty room? or was this meant for one of the goblin fighters, who escaped through the open window? Keeping one eye on the door, he steps to the small chest at the foot of the bed and squats down to open it. Might provide some clues.
After that, he approaches the door and looks at the lock and chain again, through a crack on the door. If I want to proceed, I'll have to break this open. He waits for a swell in the noise from below, then puts his shoulder to the door in an attempt to break the chain.
Sekla remains a dour presence, ignoring the transaction taking place between the gnome and her charge, and instead continuing to scan the environs. Occasionally she glances at Talib; when would they make their move? How would they play it?
The hobgoblin places a fist inside the other palm and absent-mindedly cracks her knuckles. The sooner they get moving, the better.
“M’lady, you’re right, you’re so right, I’m so sorry! I’m nasty! Is just when I think of coin I go mad!” The gnome bows exaggeratedly and grabs Talienda’s hand to kiss it. “Please forgive me, please! Five silver for the two tomatoes! No, four! That’s nothing for you!”
As the Falcon rummages through the chest half-filled with a few pieces of clothing, he realises the lock and chain could also be a guest trying to keep his possessions safe in a place where there is likely little guarantee of security from the host. Besides the clothes, the Falcon also finds a small pouch with 5GP and a letter written half in Varisian, half in mangled Taldan narrating someone’s misadventures as a bodyguard in Escadar.
Shoulder against the door, he pushes it, once again to no avail— the chain was proving to be deceptively strong. This time, however, he hears a gruff voice behind a wall. “Petric, you Varisian c#!&, do that again and I’ll gut you like a fish!”
Talienda snatches her hand away and gives the gnome a withering look. At least she has an outlet for the simmering anger that bubbled just below the fog of guilt and shame filling her heart at the moment.
"Fine, two silver for four," she huffs, tossing the grabby gnome a couple of silver coins from her purse. "Just stop grabbing at me!"
Sekla looms over Talienda when the gnome makes to grab her hand, a low growl all the warning the vendor's going to get.
The Shining Falcon goes stiff when he hears that his attempt caused a reaction. So, the guard - or whoever is in the hallway - thinks that Petric is still in here. Either he's no paying attention to the lock, or this person was supposed to be locked up in here. He's not a friendly fellow, either way. He doesn't want to get himself into a fight - at least not if he can help it - so he reconsiders his options. He opens the door again, just for a inch, and tries to take a peek outside, hopefully to get a better look at whoever is in the hallway.
The gnome goes pale at Sekla’s growl and starts mumbling. “Ah, sorry ‘bout that. Here, sorry, I think I got some dirt on–” he glances at Sekla’s general direction and changes his mind, takes a step back, receives the coin, gives Rissi her four rotten tomatoes then turns around and moves as far away as he can from the party. Talienda looks at her dress and notices dark stains on her sleeve.
In the arena, the match seems to be drawing to a close. The goblin who was being ganged up on lies on the ground, either unconscious or dead, whilst the clown pursues the naked combatant. “Help!” the pursued creature yells; someone in the crowd answers with a sharp stone right on his forehead.
As much as he tries, the Falcon cannot see anyone in the hallway, indicating that the voice might have come from another tenant of the Manor instead of an actual guard.
“Cat got your tongue, slimy bastard? Good, because I need my sleep,” grumbles the voice. Then, a few moments later: “Oi. You still have some of that booze?” The masked hero sees a small bottle containing a few last sips of spirits on the floor next to the bed.
Rissi glances at the rotten tomatoes, sure that the skin might burst and splash the muck on herself she steps away from the others. "I'll do my best Lady! That little creature doesn't look like too hard of a target...."
Taking what she feels is the firmest of the lot she tosses....
....and misses terribly. Maybe she was trying to miss? "Oh Lady! I swear that man shifted right in front of my view! Give me another chance, I'll do better!"
She takes one of the softer ones....
....and splats the hapless goblin! "Oh thank the powers that be! I hope that tomatoe didn't hurt the little guy.... I mean, Lady! See!?! I said I'd hit the filthy creature! That one was much better. Which one should I splat with these last two? This one is especially soft and should make quite a mess!"
The Falcon picks up the bottle. Only a bit left, but beggars can't be chosers. Let's hope he agrees. "Aye," he answers the query from down the hall, not bothering to change his voice all that much because he'd consider it futile effort. "Not much left, but it's yours if you let me do my work - which might involve some more noise."
Talib allows Talienda and Rissi to keep up their charade, giving Sekla a reassuring nod every once in a while. He tries to keep an surreptitious eye on the guarded door, looking to see if anyone comes or goes—mostly just to catch a glimpse of where it might lead.
Rissi’s first tomato lands right in between the goblin’s legs; the following hits the creature right on his face, much to the enjoyment of the crowd. The clown goblin takes advantage of the distraction and jumps on their rival, sinking their teeth in his neck. As the blood mixes with the vegetable juices, a skinny human enters the arena and declares the clown’s victory. He waits a few seconds for the cheers to die down before announcing that the next match would begin in a few minutes.
Meanwhile, a tall and wiry woman with matted long black hair grabs Rissi’s shoulder and squeezes it, a big smile stamped on her face. “Nice going, little one! That’s pretty good aim! You do that often?”
There is a moment of silence after the Falcon speaks. Then there’s a deep, resigned sigh, sounds of movement as someone draws near the eastern wall and a whisper. “Leave it outside my door. You so much as think about entering, you’re dead.” He moves away from the wall muttering something about filthy thieves.
It takes the Falcon two more pushes to get the door open , but finally the chain snaps and falls to the ground. He is now in a narrow C-shaped corridor whose floor is littered with boxes and rubbish. On one end the Falcon sees steps going down, on the other a door with a small, barred window that leads into a room where a fat goblin seems to be reading a book and snickering. In between those two doors, there are 16 others and only four of those are not locked and chained like Petric’s.
The Shining Falcon realises that the four unlocked doors have shiny metal handles that seem like they have barely been used.
Seeing the carnage below Rissi quickly steps in front of Talienda, waving the other two tomatoes. "See Lady! I hit the second throw right in the face. And I've got two more so I can throw for you again. Want that I throw these in this fight still? Or wait for the next target?" She does her best to make her voice whiny and pitiful to cover for any upset that Talienda might be showing for the carnage below....
“Yo! Talking to you, miss mouse! That your boss? How much she paying you?” The woman seems slightly frustrated Rissi completely ignored her first question.
Around them, many people start emptying the bleachers to collect their earnings and place new bets. Meanwhile, a few men enter the arena and place several green flasks around the space. Talib and Sekla briefly see a transparent, greenish liquid spill out of it. The ringmaster begins clapping his hands and yelling.
“But what is that, my friends? Is it time for The Dissolving Debtor? Will our malicious Clown pick someone’s bones clean once again? You might want to get closer and smell the fumes!”
"No, I think that's enough," Talienda says, more quietly than she intended. The mask she is supposed to be wearing slipping for just a moment.
Hearing the woman's question, she turns to her, grateful for the distraction as she gets back into character.
"I pay her plenty," she sneers at the woman, "Certainly more than you can afford."
Realizing that the lady wasn't going to be ignored Rissi glances up at her and smiles, still holding a very soft tomato in each hand.... "Apologies M'Lady. My Lady pays me quite handsomely for the pitiful services that I provide. Distractions and attention as she desires, and my full loyalty. My aim is usually pretty good, with tomatoes, or other weapons as needed." Hearing Talienda's words she adds, "Looks like I don't need these now. Perhaps you'd like to try your aim? The next.... show, sounds interesting."
She switches both tomatoes to her off hand and holds them out, ready to act if the woman tries to grab her.
The Falcon silently blesses his patrons for having come this far without incident, as he quickly surveys the corridor. Sixteen rooms in use, four that seem vacant? If they're locked, seems reasonable that the girl isn't there. But still too many to check... The end of the corridor is probably where they count the profits. Might be good to know as well.
He takes the bottle of liquor and approaches the door where he thinks the voice came from. "No problem," he says, keeping his voice low enough not to carry down the hall. "I'll just leave the bottle out here," he adds while rapping twice on the door to make sure it's the right one. "As I said though, there's not much left. I could maybe sweeten the deal, if you're willing to talk for a bit more. I'm looking for a girl, half-elven, calls herself Cornela - probably. Seen her around?"
“Ain’t talking to you, sugartits” the woman looks at Talienda, raises an eyebrow and grins from ear to ear. “Sorry, ain’t talking to you , ‘madam.’ Anyway, if you’re interested once you’re done doing whatever this is,” she makes a vague gesture indicating Rissi and Talienda, “just ask for Nelly at the booth, they’ll know where I am. Later.”
Nelly walks away cracking her knuckles; at the same time, six trembling goblins are pushed inside the arena. The ringmaster steps on a small podium once again and whistles to get everyone’s attention.
“And here they are! Our debt-riddled goblins of the week, ready to ~~melt~~ their problems away! You all know the drill: first goblin to completely dissolve another’s hand in one of these vats of pure acid is debt free. Easy-peasy! Go!”
The fight begins and is as chaotic as one might expect. The competitors jump at one another, trying to grapple and drag any random foe into the now opened flasks which, indeed, are big enough to fit a small person’s hand.
The dark-haired woman has a pair of daggers strapped on her back, half hidden by her long hair. If her athletic build is any indication, she probably knows how to use these better than your average commoner.
“Aroden’s gaping a$$@~&&*, won’t you leave a man alone?” The man mumbles indistinctly before sighing. “What’s in it for me? You like playing with fire, eh?”
A spike of fear snuffs out any anger she may have had at being insulted like some tramp. She thought she was ready for this. Obviously, she was wrong.
"Sekla, Talib," she whispers to the two "bodyguards" just loudly enough to be heard above the general din between the events, "do you think that smile she gave me meant anything besides contempt?"
Rissi watches and listens to Nelly as she has her say before turning to walk away.
Once she is fairly certain that the lady has moved on Rissi carefully sets the remaining tomatoes on the floor, under a seat so they won't get stepped on. She glances at the arena as the announcer explains the next "competition". "Now that's just disgusting. And all of those poor creatures will be hurt once the acid starts splashing around!"
He reaches into his coin pouch and reaches for two silver coins. He drops to one knee and slides one of them under the door. "This one's for compensation, because I disturbed you with my noise. There's one more just like it, if you've got some good information for me. On the girl I mentioned. And you'd better make sure it checks out. I'm going to be... disappointed if you think you can spin some tale just to swindle me out of another silver. I'm not going to take that kindly." So trite, but it's probably the only language he'll respond to. The Falcon shakes his head as he waits for an answer.
Even though Talienda has suddenly become very self-conscious, it is clear the woman, Nelly, has seen right through the disguise. What her intentions are, however, is completely beyond the young sorceress. Rissi, being a bit more streetsmart, knows an invitation when she receives one and knows when it isn’t hostile, or at least not completely so.
In any case, Nelly quickly disappeared from the party’s sight, either lost amidst the crowd or, possibly, having left the main hall.
Inside the arena, the fight rages on. One goblin is already down and two are fighting for the right to dissolve his hand, whilst a fourth watches the scene and bides his time. One of the others, however, grabs a flask with her teeth, then begins to climb the walls of the arena as if she were a spider, giggling and drooling. Her goal is unclear.
“…ok. Make it a gold, whoever the f%*% you are. I don’t need any more trouble in my life. And you found this out on yourself, I was asleep. The ones without locks are the Shades’ rooms. Hers is the first to the right. There’s something nasty on the handles, you don’t wanna touch those. That’s all I know, now scram.”
Talienda swallows and tries to get back into character, but the brutality on display before her is too much. She turns and hides her face, hoping that the other spectators would miss the fear in her expression.
"People find this entertaining," she asks in a meek voice that shakes as much as she does.
"Sekla, Talib," she whispers to the two "bodyguards" just loudly enough to be heard above the general din between the events, "do you think that smile she gave me meant anything besides contempt?"
Talib follows the woman with his eyes, raising an eyebrow. "I could not tell. Did she have any tattoos, perchance?"
Talienda swallows and tries to get back into character, but the brutality on display before her is too much. She turns and hides her face, hoping that the other spectators would miss the fear in her expression.
"People find this entertaining," she asks in a meek voice that shakes as much as she does.
The inquisitor glances at Talienda and shakes his head.
"People are moulded by their environment," he muses. "Cruel living conditions always result in further cruelty. These peoples' only refuge lies in epicaricacy—however miserable their lives might be, at least they are not the ones in the pit. Had you grown up in the Puddles, you might be jeering along with them."
He turns to look at the brutal farce, expressionless. "I used to close my eyes to it, once. No more."
The Shining Falcon smiles despite himself, a sad smile. Rotten, but consistent. He exchanges the silver piece in his hand for a gold coin from his pouch. I at least can keep my values. He slides the gold coin under the door without another word.
He then quickly stands up and moves over to the indicated door, while reaching in his medicine kit for a thick piece of oiled cloth. He was kind enough to warn me for the trapped door handles. He places his hand on the door handle with the piece of cloth to protect his hand, then speaks through the door in a rapid, urgent voice. "Cornela. You don't know me, but I mean you no harm. We have to talk, and I'm going to open this door. Please hear me out." He waits for two seconds, still as a hunter and listening intently.
Rissi hears Talib's question but just shrugs. "I think she was mainly interested in me. She made an offer, possibly for employment. ??"
She focuses on the goblin climbing the wall. What did that demented creature plan?
Despite Rissi’s concern, the public seems elated by the goblin’s unnatural climbing. They keep cheering her on even as she climbs outside the arena; they stop cheering her on when she throws the flask against the first row of the bleachers and drenching people with what seems to be a very potent acid.
Rissi’s first tomato hits the goblin on her chest. She looks down and retches repeatedly until a huge swarm of spiders spews out of her mouth and quickly moves to cover an elderly halfling. Screams of pain and screams of terror interweave as the guards try to to fight against the crowd to reach the goblin.
The Shining Falcon receives no reply and opens the door after a few seconds. He is greeted by a room much like Petric’s, though both more organised and less empty, with a human-sized cot, a stack of boxes pilling up above a small wardrobe, a locked chest and, interestingly, a knee-high statuette of an open-mouthed goblin.
The fighting downstairs seems to be getting rougher: the Falcon hears even more of racket than before, with people screaming and banging against the wood.
There is a faint ticking noise coming from the statuette. When the Falcon approaches it, he hears the sound of something liquid moving inside.