Cressida nods. "A fair question, and one I'm happy to answer. The Guard is stretched extremely thin due to the current state of affairs. As such, we're looking for skilled and loyal citizens to assist on a contracted basis. It's not a full-time position, but the pay's good, and we have plenty of food and lodging available here at the Citadel.
"My most pressing concern is a lack of manpower. Many of the Guard have deserted their posts, more concerned about friends and family than the city. I can understand this, yet not all of the deserters have family - some are simply using the riots as an excuse for personal gain. One such man is Verik Vancaskerkin. He's convinced a small group of fellow guards that Queen Ileosa is going to ruin the city. Whether she does or doesn't isn't the point - right now, we've got a city-wide crisis on our hands, and he's reducing the resources I have available to deal with it. I can't afford to pull any of my patrols off duty to deal with Vancaskerkin. Even if I could, he might just sway them over to his side; he's a decent orator. I also don't want some overly patriotic guard killing him outright. The city has laws for a reason, and if we just murder everyone who's causing trouble, we'll sink even deeper into chaos. That's why I need impartial talent such as yourselves."
Torsten nodded along. ”And if he doesn’t see reason? Or if he forces us to defend ourselves...?” He let the question hang in the air.
Yhrrilka nods in agreement with Torsten's question. "It's one thing to help, but we have no intention of forcing a fight to the death."
Cressida shakes her head. "No, no, quite the contrary. I'd like you to try to avoid killing any of the deserters if you can. Especially Vancaskerkin. I'd like to find out why he deserted, and it's difficult to interrogate a corpse. If you do find yourselves in a life-or-death situation, though, do what you need to. Vancaskerkin and the others will get no sympathy from me, and as long as there's an intact body, I can eventually get the answers I need." She performs some mental calculations. "If you accept, I'll pay you 100gp apiece for Vancaskerkin or half that amount for his body."
"And, of course, you don't wan't to kill a fellow countryman without a big reason, yes. We understand" M acaria offers as a safeguard to the man's honour. "Where is this Van Kashkin to be found?"
"He and his followers are holed upin an abandoned butcher's shop up in Northgate - a place once called All the World's Meat."
Yhrrilka thinks this over some more. "One more question, if I may. If we bring him in alive, does he stay alive? We'll have more success, I'm sure, if we have a guarantee of his safety as a bargaining chip." She looks to her comrades for reassurance.
"That's not for me to decide. The Arbiters will determine an appropriate punishment for his crimes."
Ril frowns slightly at this news. "Well, it would've been good to have something to offer him." Turning to Torsten and Macaria, she asks, "What of the two of you, anything else we need?"
Torsten shook his head. "We know where they be, we know the payment, and we know the parameters of the job. I'm ready to go earn our keep."
"Well, he's going to be offered a fair trial. That's more than most people get in their whole life in the city -which might well be a short one." Saying that, she raises her head high. "I'm ready."
"In which case, let's do this," Yhrrilka says. Hopefully this doesn't end up in a slaughter. On either side really, but most of all ours.
Torsten: Your rocky friend recognized the name Verik Vancaskerkin. He and his four accomplices call themselves the Cow Hammer Boys and are known for giving free meat to families in need. They also hire themselves out as mercenaries - the codephrase is "I'm interested in the night's special cuts."
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A sign bearing the image of a fat, smiling cow hangs above the entrance to the shop.
Torsten's familiar glowed as the information was transmitted to the dwarf. After a moment to process it he repeated the information to Ril and Macaria.
"...we should have a plan before we go in there. I'm thinking that we try to reason them. Mayhaps explain that a bounty is about to be placed on their heads because of the current situation. That there'll be nay work in this 'ere city, only death. But Cressida sent us 'ere to get the laddie to come in before it comes to that, to smooth things out. Think that might be a good angle?"
Yhrrilka nods. "I do, Torsten. I'd rather not see this to a violent ending. It's not like it was last night with Lamm. It's not personal here." She looks around. "Shall we? Or wait until it's less crowded?"
"We shouldn't have many witnesses" Macaria comments. "These folks might have sympathizers."
"We shouldn't have many witnesses" Macaria comments. "These folks might have sympathizers."
"Good point, let's wait for the area to quiet down a bit."
"Nay skin off our backs. Aye, let's wait until it looks like it's cleared out a wee bit and then we'll go in. We got this."
You wait until shortly before sundown when all of the traffic has faded away. During this time, you watch as the meat in the shop's display window gradually diminishes until only a few aged cuts remain. Quite a large number of flies circulate above them, but the meat still seems edible - if not particularly appetizing. Considering the amount of people who've visited the shop, it's a bit surprising that there's still any meat left at all, to be honest.
Inside the shop, you find two men. The tall bushy-eyebrowed one stands behind the counter, while the burly man in ill-fitting chainmail keeps watch by the front door.
As the three of them enter, Ril tries to keep an eye on both of the men they see. Addressing the one behind the counter, she says, "Hi there. We're interested in the night's special cuts."
Torsten nodded, while keeping his eyes peeled. How many men were here, were they armed, and how were they reacting to their presence?
The men look at each other for a moment before nodding and closing the door. You're now alone in the shop with them. "Fifty gold per hit. Who's the unlucky target? And don't worry - once we're done visiting, you'll never have to worry about 'em again."
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”Nah, lad. Y’see we’re here on a favor. Vancaskerkin still has people looking out for him. Bounty is about to be placed on his head. We’re here to talk to him before it gets posted...on him and those working for him. Care to tell him that we’d like to speak, in private? Pretty sure he’d like to get the message before bounty hunters start flocking.”
Ril backs Torsten's play. She tries her best to walk the line between not threatening, but not intimidated.
The man behind the counter shrugs. "Thanks for the tip; we'll pass it along. Now, if you're not needin' our services, get lost." The doorman puts a hand on his club for emphasis.
Torsten looked at the man, unimpressed by the threat, and then to his companions and whispered ”Ye two want to talk to him before I shove that so far up his arse that spits it out?”
Yhrrilka steps forward and speaks calmly, with the air of someone explaining something they think should be very simple. "I don't think any of you understand the situation well enough to convey the message. Please, let us talk to Vancaskerkin."
Both men draw clubs, and one hollers towards the back door, "Hoi! Parns and Karralo! We've got some troublemakers in here!"
+4 if prone
+2 if prone
+4 if prone
+2 if prone
Torsten acted quickly, and tried to sweep the man’s legs out from underneath him. Once on the ground it would be easy enough to pummel him into submission...that was the plan, at least.
As Torsten begins pummeling the one man into submission, Yhrrilka acts quickly. Striding over to the other man, she draws her sword and tries to knock the club from his hand.
"Please. Don't make this any worse."
Hearing the thugs warn more thugs, Macaria waits for the others to come before invoking the powers of the Abyss.
Torsten knocks the doorman off his feet, hits him with a knee to the chin as he falls, and then finishes with an elbow drop that knocks the man unconscious. Yhrrilka swats the club out of the other man's hand and raises her sword to emphasize her point. He raises his hands defensively. "Whoa there, lady. No need for that."
As the other two thugs rush into the room, Macaria channels energy that wracks them with pain.
The first thug to enter swings a butcher knife at Yhrrilka!
Realizing that he couldn't reach anyone, Torsten looked at Macaria expectantly. This seemed to be the type of situation she would excel in. If he was right, then with Ril holding them in place, the men were about to be in for a world of hurt.
Macaria moved behind the desk to get some obstacles between her and the this, then fires a blast at one of them taking care not to shoot Ril accidentally.
Bringing her sword to bear on the man she disarmed, Ril snaps, "Both of you, drop the weapons and cool it! Or your friend gets it."
Blue ducks under the counter as Macaria fires at him - then awkwardly climbs over it and draws a nasty-looking dagger.
Yellow ignores Yhrrilka's warning (perhaps he thinks she's bluffing) and slashes at her again.
Red, meanwhile, howls in pain as the half-orc's blade slices his chest. He backs up frantically. "I'm just a beater, I swear by all the gods! Don't have the stomach for the other stuff! Please don't kill me!"
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To the man she stabbed, she says, "Whether I kill you is in your hands. Do not move." To his companion, she sneers, "Come get some."
Ril sizes her opponent up, then steps to her right, lunging as she does so.
Piercing
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There were few attacks as feared as the Janderhoff Power Bomb. It was the type of maneuver that was the thing of legend. It was said that it was first perfected by Olaff Thunderfist himself, a dwarven brawler who made a name for himself patrolling the Mindspin Mountains in the hunt for giants. Olaff was the type of dwarf who refused to use weapons of any sort, stating that there was nothing that a determined dwarf couldn't do with his own two hands. The Janderhoff Power Bomb was his signature move, made possible by an equal mixture of bravery and alcohol. Olaff would stalk his prey for days, drinking from a keg kept strapped to his back until the right spot was found and the right level of intoxication was reached. The dwarf would then charge the ledge and jump from the mountain, exulting in the feeling of empty air beneath him and his beard flowing in the wind. Olaff would then raise his two fists and hold them together in the fashion of holding an axe. He would then sail down towards the (very surprised) giant, and bring both hands down (usually) between the eyes. A hundred and eighty pounds of dwarf coming at such speed was enough to kill weaker giants, but even for the larger ones it never failed to knock them over. The dwarf would then laugh as he would ride the giant like a sled down the mountain. Olaff's fame spread, as did the number of dead giants. That is, until the day that his laugher turned into a scream and he was never seen again.
Torsten was no Olaff, but he did know of the dwarf's legend. And at the moment he was ready to attempt the move himself.
The dwarf leapt onto the nearby counter, and twisted as he kicked off into the air. He raised both hands as he sailed towards the ceiling and then came down at the human, both hands raised just like Olaff.
With a cry of "THUNDERFIST!" he brought both of his hands down as if though he were carrying an invisible axe. The blow struck with the force of legend! It was as if the ghost of Olaff himself had possessed Torsten and was exulting in the thrill of the Janderhoff Power Bomb!
Torsten is a far cry from Olaff Thunderfist ... but the thug is a far cry from a giant. He's out before his body hits the ground. In the slight chance he recovers, he'll have a permanent dent in his skull.
Distracted by the spectacle unfolding before him, the second thug is an easy target for Yhrrilka's blade. She effortlessly skewers him.
Macaria stands cornered and she lifts her hands, trying to buy some time to perform a trick that could save her. Then she suddenly opens her jaw full wide, as she witnesses a dwarf jumping from the counter and performing a version of the famed Janderhoff Power Bomb.
With the guy down thanks to Torsten's bold move and another one taken by Ril, the one remaining doesn't seem to pose a threat.
"Right, so, you're giving up, I guess."
Torsten pulled himself to his feet and then looked with some concern at the man that he had just obliterated. He quickly checked to see if there was a pulse and to his relief found one. Not that it meant that the man was in the clear, as the man could well still die. Such extreme blunt force trauma to the head really did require medical attention, which he was in no way equipped to give. Still, it was his own damned fault for pulling a knife. If the rest were smart they'd drop their weapons.
Yhrrilka addresses the one who's still on his feet the way one would a child. "I hope the next time someone tells you they just want to talk, you use your heads." She points toward the door. "Take your friends with you, and do not trouble us further, or you will receive no mercy."
With that, the young woman walks into the back room of the market.
As they walk, Ril asks Torsten, "Did Zohruk ever tell you of his cousin Haazek? Huge fellow. Bravery for days, but maybe not so much brains. They say that once on the hunt, he pulled an aurochs to the ground with his bare hands. I think you two would make quite a pair..."
B3 - The air in this room is stale, stinking of day-old meat and blood. Straw litters the floor, scattered to catch the drips from the meat as it hangs. Meat hooks are affixed to the walls and ceiling on metal rods. To the north is a low blood-stained table and two barrels of salt, while double doors stand in the wall to the south. An iron bar extends through a narrow hole at the top of the doors; the bar runs along the ceiling for 5ft before ending at a vertical pole running floor to ceiling.
Yhrrilka notices a half-dozen cuts of meat look strange. Macaria then looks them over and confirms they don't come from animals at all ... but from humanoids.
B4 - The floor of this grim chamber is strewn with blood-stained straw, and the reek of slaughter is almost overpowering. The room is a killing floor. Meat hooks dangle from a metal track affixed to the ceiling that allows the hooks and their gory loads to be moved easily around the room. In the northwest corner, a large hammer sits on the floor amid a permanent bloodstain. To the south, a bloodstained grill covers a wide hole in the floor. Just north of the grill sit two large vats of water, one boiling and one cold. Two large butcher blocks stand to the east next to barrels of salt, and in the southeast corner sits a reeking vat of cast-off meat and bones. In this vat, Torsten notices something glittering - a mithral ring set with tiny obsidian slivers . It's still attached to a finger.
B5 - Two foul-smelling animal pens take up the majority of this room. Each pen is defined by a wooden fence set with a gate. Inside each is a long water trough and heaps of filthy hay. The floor here is hard-packed earth. Torsten's dwarven senses again prove valuable as he discovers several bags in a hole under the water trough. Inside are a few pieces of jewelry and a fair bit of coinage .
”The old famine sausage, is it?” Torsten said, with disdain. ”These men will hang for it. But at least these shinies will be a nice profit.” His disdain turning into pragmatism.