Bloody Streets: CT by AG

Game Master Apoc Golem

Actually, she never said the interest continued after the quality drop, only that he was very popular.

Andakos knows that the nobles' affinity for Salvator dropped when the quality of his work dropped. There were many theories, but at least half a dozen of his mother's afternoon tea attendees swore they'd heard from Salvator's own mouth that his "muse" had left him. In fact, Lady Montague, a plump and cheerful middle-aged woman who you know enjoyed spiking her tea when she thought no one was looking, was certain the King would have tapped Scream for his royal portrait before the quality drop. She'd commented with a wink that Trinia's work was a distant second to Salvator's before then, and said in no uncertain terms that "the tart probably sabotaged him." Having met Trinia and gotten a pretty solid read on her by this point, Andakos knows that claim is dubious, at best.

Ducky finds no traps on the door, and it isn't locked. It opens into a narrow hallway, at the end of which are two doors. Based on the outer dimensions of the house, the west door clearly opens into the room he saw through the window outside, but the east door is unknown.

My bad. Apparently my reading comprehension needs some work!

Andakos isn't much of an artist, but he knows enough to suspect that this guy's drop in quality was more drastic than could reasonably be explained by whatever the painter's equivalent of writer's block is. He wishes they had been able to figure out what that jar of paint does; there's a good chance it had something to do with it.

Anyway, there's another door to check. (I'll go ahead and roll for both doors, but we'll go through the eastern one first.)

perception east: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (1) + 19 = 20 +4 traps
DD east: 1d20 + 26 ⇒ (12) + 26 = 38

perception west: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (10) + 19 = 29 +4 traps
DD west: 1d20 + 26 ⇒ (11) + 26 = 37

I do the same thing. I think it has something to do with computer screens actually? I remember reading something about print being easier to retain than screen reading.

Andakos finds that neither of the doors are trapped or locked.

To the east:
A single bed, the blankets and pillows atop it scattered and in disarray, sits to the south of this room. Muddy boot prints mar the wooden floor here and a small splash of dried blood decorates one pillow.

To the west:
The smell in this entryway is of must and mildew, much of it coming from the mud tracked all over the floorboards, as if a small army had marched through the room. To the south stands a single empty set of shelves.

Laori looks at the state of the floors and puts her hands on her hips. "Well jeez, this is what I get for coming in the back door. I never even saw this. To be fair, that front door is kinda easy to miss on the map."

Andakos knows a lot of things. A lot of things. But he also knows that he is a terrible tracker, and sussing out what these tracks and blood might mean requires a skillset that he hasn't had a chance to develop yet. But, maybe teamwork will help?

"Everyone, gather around. We need to put our heads together and figure out the deal with these tracks."

Are we still applying the rule that highest result gets the roll and everyone else over 10 is an aid?

survival +insp: 1d20 + 2 + 1d6 ⇒ (7) + 2 + (5) = 14

survival: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23

BOOM never mind.

Golloriel has no tracking experience, but she finds it odd that the investigator can't see what's staring him in the face. "Andakos. He was kidnapped. Or someone was kidnapped. Whoever was in this bed was knocked out and dragged away."

Andakos clears his throat. "Oh. Um. Yep, I see it now. Good sleuthing."

He looks around the room. "Well. I think we should take the time to turn this place upside down before we move on. We don't want to miss anything."

We'll take 20 on these two rooms. Ducky gets a 39 perception.

While they are searching, Andakos's mind races. After a while, he asks Laori, "Any idea who might want to kidnap Salvator? This Emperor fellow? But aren't they allies?"

"Allies?" Laori blinks. "I have no idea. I don't think the 'Emperor of Old Korvosa' has allies. From what I've heard, he's a batsh*t loony who thinks he runs this little island. He might think of Salvator as his 'subject,' but from what I hear that guy isn't particularly nice to his constituency." She shrugs. "If I knew more about him, maybe I could make a guess, but all's I got is his real name. Pilts something. Stattle? Swattle? Swat--Swastel!" she finally says with a snap of her fingers. "Pilts Swastel! Not sure who he is though."

Ducky's Kn (local) is hilarious; the DC is 1 less than his total modifier.

Andakos immediately recognizes the name, though he probably wishes he didn't. Pilts Swastel is the owner and proprietor of Exemplary Execrables, a theatre in Old Korvosa infamous for its graphic depictions in its many unsavory plays, as well as hosting exhibits from local artists of a not-safe-for-work variety (and often not-safe-for-life). He knows this precisely because his mother's tea guests often enjoyed gossiping about the man and how "unseemly" he is, and for the fact that he's displayed Salvator's work at his business on several occasions.

"I dunno," Nyx mutters with a raised eyebrow at the many muddy tracks on the floor. "Could be a mob. Could just be one really enthusiastic Basilisk player on a bender."

They involuntarily shudder at the mention of Exemplary Execrables. "Ugh. A couple years ago, some friends and I went there on a dare. Some weirdo had made sculptures with actual sh*t. Glazed and fired in a kiln and everything. Worst part? They were actually good. Guy had real talent and spent it on... that." They shake their head, mystified. "Makes me kinda glad all's I got is shiny rocks in a metal circle."

I assume the taking 20 didn't turn anything else up?

Andakos nods grimly. "I guess we need to go to this theatre. Everyone good to keep going?" He looks over his remaining extracts. "I've used quite a bit already but I'm good to go."

Taking 20 expired his shield and heroism again. No more shield extracts left but he could alchemically allocate the barkskin potion. It's not as good but he definitely still wants to keep going.

Golloriel grins. "You know I'm always ready. Let's do it."

Vexelune smiles. "Yup!"

Andakos looks to the others. "Nyx? Laori?"

Assuming they agree, we'll head to the theatre, pausing about a block away to buff.

Nyx gives a sour look at the Kuthonite priestess when Andakos includes her, but nods curtly. "Let's go."

I absolutely forgot about the fact you took 20!

Even after an extensive and exhaustive search of the small home, nothing else of note turns up, aside from a single gold crown tucked into a shoe under Salvator's bed.

If Laori noticed the look from Nyx, she doesn't show it. She nods firmly. "Yeah! Let's do this."

The party heads out into the night once more, following Nyx's directions toward Exemplary Execrables. After only a few minutes, the flickering light of torches can be seen off to one side. Try as they might to avoid the light source, the party soon finds itself surrounded by four rough-looking individuals with torches and axes.

The largest of them points his torch at the party. "Oi, lookie this! Ain't seen your faces 'round 'ere before. Where you been hidin', eh? You think you can strut 'round the Emperor's domain an' not pay your respects to 'im, is that it?"

"I say we teach 'em a lesson in humility," another says, gripping his battleaxe white-knuckled with murder in his eyes.

"Now, now," the first one says with obvious amusement. "Could be it jes' slipped their minds. Eh, friends? You didn't insult our great Emperor on purpose, didja?"

Map updated!

Golloriel doesn't raise her scimitar. "Of course we intend to pay our respects to the Emperor! That is why we are here. If there is a local custom that we have failed to abide by, we can only plead ignorance and beg forgiveness. Would you be so kind as to escort us to him?"

diplo: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (14) + 17 = 31

Andakos isn't 100% sure he's on board with Golloriel's tactic here, but he has seen her pull off incredible feats of diplomacy, so he will give her the benefit of the doubt. Still, he studies #2, just in case, and prepares to put the tip of his spear through his throat.

Vexelune frowns. These street thugs stand absolutely no chance against the five of them, and they don't even seem to realize how much danger they are in. Why is Golloriel talking to them?

Even after years on the material plane, she still doesn't understand the people here.

Nyx scowls. Bullies. They hate bullies. And Golloriel wants to talk to them??

But after they give it a second, they realize what she's doing. The Emperor runs things, or thinks he does, in Old Korvosa. He might have information! Why didn't they think of that?

Because she's smart and you're dumb, they remind themself.

With a sigh, they shrink into the background and try to be as unnoticeable as possible.

The thug blinks in surprise. Clearly he thought the party would raise a ruckus, and it takes a long moment for his smooth brain to shift gears.

"Uh. Right. Yeah. Uh." He coughs. "That's a good idea, little lady, we don't wanna upset the boss now, do we?" He puffs up his chest. "You jes' keep them pigstickers in their sheaths, and keep actin' civil, an' there won't be no problems. Follow me."

Truth be told, even if you keep your weapons out, you rolled high enough that they probably won't say anything. Even at level 8, 31 is pretty damn good.

The party follows the thugs through the winding streets of Old Korvosa, headed in a northwesterly direction--toward the mass of lights the party saw when first touching down on the island.

Nyx walks in silence for about a minute, but eventually the awkward silence drives them nuts. They blurt out a question, mostly just to fill the dead air.

"Is it true the Emperor used to run Exemplary Execrables?"

They flinch, mentally chastising themself for drawing attention to them.

One of the thugs snaps, "Shut yer yap," but the lead thug waves him off.

"Ain't no reason ta be uncivil with summat as wants ta learn 'bout our great Emperor, yeah?" He then shoots the first thug a dangerous glare, and he collapses in on himself a little. The lead thug turns to Nyx and grins, showing a spectacular lack of dental hygiene. If any of the party was hungry, they probably aren't now.

"S'true!" he says with what may actually be genuine geniality. "The Emperor used ta be small like us. But the first round o' mobs in the quarantine burned 'is theatre down. But instead o' fallin' ta despair, 'e found a higher callin'! You'll see for yeself in a minute."

Feel free to ask any more questions of your escorts while I build the next map. Eventually. I'm so sorry. It's been a helluva last few days.

Golloriel shoots Andakos a "I can't believe that worked" look as they travel toward whatever fresh hell Old Korvosa has cooked up for them now. She isn't completely confident that this was the right move; although she had no interest in wiping the floor with these poor mooks, now they may be walking into a situation where they are truly outnumbered. In truth, she just reacted and the natural charm that Sarenrae has blessed her with took over.

Still, she doesn't say anything else. More talking means more risk of saying something she shouldn't. She walks in silence, scimitar still drawn but carried casually at her side.

Vexelune flit-walks along with the others. When the head thug grins, she recoils slightly. "I know magic! Do you want me to clean your teeth?"

Andakos just shakes his head.