Aisling looks bemused as Alexius makes his farewll and disappears, but she's not sad to see him go. She gives more respectful attention to Parabaron Vargo when he leaves the group. She immediately notes Jessibel's dramatic change of costume, raising her eyebrow. "If you wanted to stand out, that's one way of doing it." JEssibel's not wrong, though. She does have 'it' however it's defined.
That leaves the mysterious spellcasting stranger. She walks over to Vantine, who seems to be mourning the damage to her dress. "I really thgouth that arrow was a fatal wound. I'm glad to be wrong about it. I'm Aisling. What's your name?"
A chill wind passes through the street on which the group has found themselves, and now that both of the noblemen have left, only the women remain from the chaotic riot.
As he finishes his full transition into becoming the Raven, the vigilante hears sounds of metal against metal in the distance, followed by a cry of pain - one that doesn’t sound like a familiar voice. It is to the northeast, and he can easily find his way to the sounds should he wish.
But before she has much of a chance to contemplate this, she hears the clash of metal on metal and a pained cry that is cut off from the north. Someone is in trouble - possibly more than one someone!
The Raven makes his way through the streets of Kintargo, keeping to the alleyways and smaller side streets to avoid attracting attention. The tall, birdfaced man was usually not seen in the bright of day, preferring to operate in the safety and quiet of the dark. More people than usual were on the streets of the city this day. All were fleeing from the chaos at the opera house, streaming through the cramped corridors normally occupied by the destitute. Only one was moving towards the sounds of anarchy and violence, a hulking man-bird shoving his way against the tide of people.
Vantine gives Jessibel's question serious consideration. She looks the Lady's outfit over appraisingly, and seems to appreciate it, but at the same time she's a little puzzled.
"It's very nicely done, and it accents your assets in the best ways. But where will you be wearing it? Have you joined a troupe, acrobatics? Does it chafe? I seems very tight, you know, down there."
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Vantine reaches out and takes Aisling's hand in both of hers.
"Many thanks to you for defending me so bravely m'Lady. I may well owe my life to you. My name is Vantine Roubanis."
Jessibel fidgets a bit at Vantine's questions. "Well...I bought it when I moved out of the Greens three months back. My mentor told me I should invest in some armor if I intended to be walking from my flat to the Opera House and other venues in Jarvis End. I was hanging around with Sabrina Sarini back then, and she sort of dared me into buying this style. The suit cost me nearly 200 gold sails--which is outrageous!--but since it's custom-made, the fit is pretty much flawless. It feels a bit restrictive at times, but no real chafing, I'm glad to report!"
After a pause, the young noblewoman admits, "Plan A was to buy myself an awesome carriage to be driven around in, but...that would've been even pricier than the armor, and there wasn't a reputable stable within walking distance of my apartment. Then there's the monthly upkeep costs, plus finding a trustworthy driver. Still...I hope to buy one at some point in the near future."
Vantine senses Jessibel's disomfort, which she hadn't meant to cause. She tries to course correct.
"Oh, armor! That didn't occur to me. I knew you were a professional performer so I assumed... Well, anyway, you look adorable in it. And thank you for repairing my dress. I would have hated to have to throw it out."
Vantine reaches out and takes Aisling's hand in both of hers.
"Many thanks to you for defending me so bravely m'Lady. I may well owe my life to you. My name is Vantine Roubanis."
Aisling gives a small smile. "No charge - this time." She's joking. Probably. With her sense of humour it's hard to tell.
She's about to ask more questions when her attention is caught by what aapears to be a trick of the light. She stares at it intently for some momets before a noise catches her attention. "That way." She points. "Someone's in trouble." Without saying anything furhter, she moves towards the source of the noise she heard.
The dark-clothed vigilante stands out, even in Kintargo's cosmopolitan streets, but he doesn't encounter anyone as he swiftly makes his way to the source of the sounds. There, he sees four familiar faces, as well as...
Within moments, the group finds itself in an alleyway, where they see several things that are distinctly out of place. First, there is a dark-clad, masked figure arriving from the other direction. But even that odd sight pales in comparison to the other.
Several men and women lie scattered about on the ground, clearly unconscious. Each of them wears the armband of the CCG. It seems that not all of them are so unfortunate, however, as five more CCG members stand, encircling a well-dressed and badly bruised man who is lying prone on the ground.
They are clearly preparing to kill him when one of the militiamen looks up at the women, before scowling at them. "Go away, if you know what's good for ya. Official business of the Lord-Mayor."
Another one, this one a towering bald man with foreign tattoos, however, snorts. "They're probably rebels, too. Get 'em and we'll get even more stuff."
"What about that one?" The first replies, nodding at the Raven.
A third thug looks at the Raven. "Clearly up to no good. Get him and take his stuff. Maybe the dottari will know his corpse." She says, her tone blunt.
"Right you are, Asmodea." The first replies, turning to the group.
Aisling gives them a flinty stare and brandishes her longsword. "You are not the dottari. You have no power here, you are merely lawless thugs. Take your fallen friends and leave."
When they don't comply, she moves to strike at the nearest thug. She again inwardly winces at the sound and feel of her blade striking flesh - but she reasons that it's something she's just going to have to get used to.
The Raven slides to a halt on the icy cobblestones as he enters the alley, smoothly drawing a dagger from his belt and and slinging it at the nearest CCG member. The dagger flies true and embeds itself in the man’s torso, the handle, carved to resemble a raven’s wing feather, protruding from his chest.
”Do I look like I know what is good for me?” The masked man says in a thick elven accent. He draws himself up to his full, towering height. Broad shoulders combined with the thick gambeson armor worn under chain armor give him an intimidating bulk. A ragged, deep hooded dark-green cloak covers his head and casts his face in shadows. The tip of a large, slightly curved raven’s beak extends a few inches past the hood. Leather and plate gauntlets with spiked knuckles cover his hands and he carries a steel heater shield in his left hand. His right leg is protected by a steel greave painted black.
Vantine hesitates for a moment, running to potential danger is a reversal of what has been to this point a successful strategy. However, safety in number has also been working well. She follows Aisling.
She can't claim to be surprised by what they find in the alley. Nor can she see a way to avoid having to defend themselves, which mean as it has played out going on the offensive.
Vantine clucks her tongue in disappointment at the CCG thug who spoke to them first. "You're going to have a very bad day."
"Oh, armor! That didn't occur to me. I knew you were a professional performer so I assumed... Well, anyway, you look adorable in it. And thank you for repairing my dress. I would have hated to have to throw it out."
Jessibel seems quite pleased at her and her armor being called 'adorable' by Vantine. "Thank you! For spells, I'm classically trained for the theater: mending spell to repair torn costumes and broken props; message to remind actors of their lines; prestidigitation is great for coloring costumes and other items temporarily, as well as for creating small props or simple magical effects; and light is good for creating...well, light!"
"I added cure light wounds to my repertoire because falls are all-too-common, especially among the stagehands. Also, we theater folk have a strange saying to wish good luck to our fellow performers: 'Break a leg!' I never could figure that one out...."
As outlandish and form-fitting as her upscale armor may be, Jessibel runs well in it, likely due to a wiser choice in the stylish-yet-practical boots she wears. Hearing the words of the loyalists, the bard takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what's likely to be her first extended life-or-death fight. Then she's resolutely singing an old Chelish war chant, both to inspire her new friends and to drum up her own courage for the fight ahead. Belatedly, almost as an afterthought, she draws her rapier from its sheathe.
Nyxra doesn't waste any words on the CCG. Instead, she draws her bow and shoots.
But, it appears there's still a great deal of lingering adrenaline in her system--her hands shake so much that the arrow goes flying away.
Aisling’s threats make the CCG thugs chuckle, and one sneers in return. A woman who wouldn’t look out of place tending a store and scolding her spouse or children speaks. ”Clearly rebels. Things’re changing here in Kintargo, and if you can’t change with ‘em, you’re dead anyways!”
Her arrogance is cut short as Aisling steps forwards and quickly, if cautiously, slashes at her. The cleric scores a deep gash on the CCG woman’s chest, and she shouts in pain. ”F+%!ing rebels! Kill them all!”
Nyxra draws her bow and fires off a shot at the Chelish thug that challenged them first. Unfortunately, the shot goes wide, skipping off a nearby building… despite earlier claims of her archery skill.
”Ha! I thought elves were supposed to be good with a bow!” The man snickers.
Jessibel begins her chant, filling the air with inspiration to her comrades (and the Raven). Perhaps things won’t end so badly, after all. Maybe they’ll even end well? They all survived the riot, after all.
The nobleman on the ground rolls over with a soft groan.
Vantine casts her gaze at the CCG thug that first spoke to challenge them. Drawing upon the arcane powers gifted to her by her patron, she curses him with ill fortune and decreases his resistance to most spells. She feels it take purchase, but not as strongly as she would prefer - he successfully resisted her hex, if only in part.
The Raven’s hand drops swiftly to the hilt of one of his knives, drawing it and throwing it in a single fluid motion. The honed steel blurs from his hand and strikes home gashing the large, tattooed bald man’s neck in a wound that bleeds copiously. The man yelps in an almost comical fashion, before his eyes fill with murderous hate at the vigilante. ”I’ll f*$%ing smash your skull in!”
The rather unprepared thugs finally managed to get their feet under them, and the woman that Aisling wounded strikes back at her with a mace - this group of CCG is clearly uninterested in taking prisoners - they're out for blood (and probably loot). Unfortunately for the woman in question, her feeble blows are easily swatted aside.
The tall tattooed man rushes at the Raven, screaming profanities at the top of his lungs as he attacks viciously with the mace that he's holding in one hand. The blow connects with the Raven's head with a horrific crack, staggering him briefly and leaving his ears ringing with pain. Blood drips down his face behind his mask.
The first speaker, who Vantine had hexed, rushes forwards, charging at Jessibel. "I'll make you really sing!" He snarls as he swings his mace desperately at her. Fortunately, she is able to deflect the bludgeoning attacks - with difficulty, but she is essentially unharmed.
Another militiaman, this one so far silent, leaps into combat, rushing at Nyxra in an attempt to forestall further bow shots. Unlike her Shoanti comrade, however, she does not manage to even bring her bludgeon close to Nyxra, whose keen reflexes allow her to evade the clumsy strikes.
The final rogue steps over the downed noble, attempting to get close to Aisling with her deadly blade. Unfortunately, the nobleman is not quite as helpless as the CCG perhaps thought he was, and the man lashes out with a thin, short sword as the CCG thug steps over him. The blow strikes home, cutting deep into the thug's thigh. The man screams in pain, but his steps have already brought him into Aisling's range, and he dares not turn to strike at the fallen nobleman.
Still chanting encouragement, Jessibel gnashes her teeth and stabs at the man attacking her. She remembers to use the rapier's pointy end, but otherwise the attack is slow, weak, and wildly inaccurate.
for
Nyxra ditches her bow when the thug closes the distance, drawing her sword in one smooth motion and bringing it down on the fool's neck with both hands.
"At least elves don't need to gang up on a bloodied noble to feel like they're a threat in any way."
Vantine continues her assault on the hexed man. She moves her hand, and arcane symbols colored a malignant red appear in a glowing circle around it. As she does so she speaks to him: "Juosta kaukaa tyhmä härkä!"
There is a disturbing guttural harshness in the words that does not issue from Vantine's own voice, but underlies it almost like an accompanying duettist.
One might question the wisdom of wearing a mask and a hood in combat. The Raven does not question. Or think at all. For the Raven, everything goes black for a moment.
Aisling throws a quick glance at Jessibel and Vantine, but the pair look safe enough for now. She focuses on the more immediate threat. Outnumbered - but not outclassed - she swings her sword with deadly intent. She warned them, and if they choose to stay then that's on them.
The CCG thug lifts his mace in a desperate effort to fend off the Iomedaean’s sword, but even though the priestess doesn’t fully extend - never letting her guard down - her blade catches him through the throat, and he goes down with a gurgling scream of pain. His partner lets out a scream of rage. ”Alius! I’ll get you for that, you damned scum!”
Nyxra slices easily past the woman’s guard - already lowered because of his reckless (and failed) charge - to cut him deeply in the stomach. She grunts, scowling, but remains otherwise silent.
Jessibel’s blade flashes in the dim grey light that penetrates the clouds, but her attention is mostly diverted with keeping her song going, so her attacks go wide and do no harm to the man in front of her, who laughs aloud at her efforts. ”Such a pretty little blade. Shame it’s useless in a real fight.”
Unfortunately for him, Jessibel is not alone, and Vantine takes advantage of her hex’s brief exposure of the man’s mind as she weaves a spell that her patron passed unto her - one intended to drive him into such intense fear that he cannot help but flee. However, against all odds, he manages to resist the visions of horror she attempts to inflict upon him. He does, however, go pale, clearly shaken by her spell.
The Raven punches out with his spiked gauntlet, attempting to pierce the Shoanti with its sharp spikes. Unfortunately, he is still somewhat stunned by the blow the thug dealt him earlier, and he does not manage to land a single blow on his foe.
The Shoanti man laughs (or coughs - it's difficult to tell given how badly wounded his neck is) at the Raven’s attempt at attack, knocking aside his gauntleted fist with a casual swing of his mace before launching his own attacks in turn. The vigilante has, however, recovered significantly, and now evades the blows, swaying out of their way with some difficulty.
"Aspex, ignore the singer and help me!" Aisling's remaining foe says, before desperately throwing himself to the side in an attempt to get to her left. Surprisingly, he manages to keep up his guard and bats away her attempts to keep him where he is. Once he is where he wants to be, he goes on the offensive again. However, her unwillingness to go all out to prevent his movement works for her now, as she pulls her blade fluidly back into a block. The mace and the blade spark briefly against one another before they part.
Aspex, who had been targeting Jessibel, flicks a glance at his comrade, and sidesteps, positioning Aisling between himself and his fellow. Perhaps he does not realize that he himself is now flanked by the two noblewomen. However, despite his newly advantageous position, Aisling barely has to turn to swat his feeble mace-strikes away. "T-they're stronger than we thought. Maybe we should go?" He says.
"Shut up, you coward! Run and answer to your father for all I care." Aisling's other opponent says.
Vantine is unhappy her magic did so little against the man she had targeted. It's very tempting to keep picking on the weaselly little turd, but she has also noticed the masked man.
Whether he is there by design or by chance, he is helping them, so a gesture of unity to reciprocate seems the right thing to do. She turns her attention to his bald opponent hoping to give the masked man some breathing room.
"Kolhi päähän!"
The Raven swings at the Shoanti man but between the fuzzy black fog creeping in at the edge of his vision and the already vision-restricting goggles on his mask, he fails to connect once again. ”You are very cocky for a man that is bleeding to death.” He notes casually.
'Ignore the singer??!!'
Jessibel is never one to be ignored...even in a battle. Maintaining her war chant, the bard tries to strike in rhythm while her foe is concentrating mainly on Aisling. Her form is much improved!
for
*clang, clang, spark*
Thrust, Parry, Feint
One, Two, Three, One...
The ring of steel on steel starts a rhythm in Aisling's head, bringing all the training that she has had into sharp focus. This is what her drillmaster was on about. Move the feet, watch the blade, steady the wrist. And wait for the opening, don't force it. With a neat side-step, she moves away from the troublesome position and stands closer to the downed noble, protecting him from further harm. She waits for the rigth moment before slashing again at the thug.
The shock of steel against flesh is already losing some of its horror. But then, it is kill or be killed right now.
Nyxra's hands are shaking with more adrenaline as she swings her blade yet again...
The priestess of the Inheritor moves out of the threatening position she had been placed in, her blade moving swiftly and warding away any blows that are forthcoming from the CCG thugs. As Aisling steps protectively between the threats and the downed nobleman, she lashes out with her sword once more, cutting the militiaman’s stomach open and dropping him on top of his friend. He makes a muffled squeak as he collapses in a puddle of his own blood.
This time, Nyxra’s exhaustion has begun to take its toll, as her longsword clatters and batters against her silent attacker’s mace. The woman doesn’t even show the contempt that the elf has grown used to seeing on members of her militia’s faces - she seems almost professional in demeanor, if not in skill.
Jessibel, infuriated at being ignored, works her sword in time with her song and (despite the fact that Aspex is now focused solely on her once more, manages to penetrate his guard after an exchange of blows, and runs his offhand shoulder through. He yelps, eyes widening, before trying once more to ready himself for battle. His taunts, however, seem to have left him, flowing out with the blood from his wound.
Vantine works her hands and voice through a long-familiar pattern, using the old, familiar cantrip to disrupt the Shoanti’s rhythms. He staggers slightly, blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear his mind, and Vantine is positive her spell has taken effect.
Meanwhile, the Raven’s renewed assault almost manages to break his foe’s guard, and his spiked fist gets within inches of the Shoanti’s nose before the man shifts his posture desperately and catches the gauntlet on his leather-armored shoulder. Despite his distraction, he is still able to protect himself, albeit only just.
Nevertheless, he does not follow up on his successful defense, simply staring blankly at the Raven. Aspex, seemingly recovered fully from his fear, scowls at the witch. "Enough out of you!" His anger makes him reckless, however, as he attempts to move around Jessibel to get at Vantine. Unfortunately for him, Jessibel foresees his attempt, and launches a series of blows at him. He stops short, focusing on defense rather than on movement, and manages to avoid being stabbed a second time.
The silent woman counterattacks, attempting to use Nyxra's momentary lapse to her advantage. Nyxra manages to easily evade or deflect the swings of her foe's mace, the resonant feeling of impact on her sword working its way up her arms. Nevertheless, she is safe, for the moment.
Nyxra takes a breath and strikes again!
Aisling lets out a breath she hadn't realised she was hodling in as her opponent falls, giving her a moment of stillness. She sees that Jessibel and Nyxra seem to be doing ok, but that the new arrival hasn't had much success and is wounded. She goes to his aid and once again steps and strikes, although she mistimes her attack. Too hasty. Don't force the opening! She heears her instructor's voice in her mind.
She runs her sleeve across her forehead, without relaxing her guard. "Most of your friends are down. You should probably flee. Now."
Wow! Did I do that?! Jessibel wonders as her unpredictable sword work stops the militiaman in his tracks. Time to follow up, while he's off-balance! Still chanting, she jabs at Aspex.
for
Despite the blood loss clearly getting to his foe, the Raven cannot land a blow!
Vantine turns her attention the CCG thug engaged with the elven women whom by this time she is sure she's run into somewhere before.
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Aisling’s exhaustion - more mental than physical now, drives her sword strikes with desperation - she still does not forget to keep her guard up, of course. Second Sword Knight Darisca’s teachings are worth that much, at least. The blade strikes home, but sparks off of one of the studs of steel that are sewn into the Shoanti’s armor.
This time, Nyxra deftly spins a web of steel around the silent woman’s mace before slashing out across her face, sending her tumbling back onto the cobbles with a crack as her head meets the stone. Blood splatters all over the woman’s body, and some of it even makes its way to Nyxra.
Almost immediately, Aisling suggests (very strongly) that the Shoanti and his remaining companion leave while they’re still able.
Jessibel strikes once more, harmonizing her blows with her song, and once more her efforts bear fruit, as she deftly slips her blade around Aspex’s increasingly desperate defense and stabs him just inside his right hip. The wound is shallow, but clearly painful, as he squeaks and pulls away. Dark liquid colors his leggings, though oddly, only some of it seems to be coming from his wound.
Vantine draws on the cantrip once more, casting it at Jessibel’s foe , and feels her spell almost settle in to his mind, only for him to shake it off at the last moment.
To the Raven’s continued frustration, his Shoanti foe manages to block his attacks more effectively than the vigilante is able to deal them out. His spiked gauntlet only barely grazes the man’s armor this time, dealing only cosmetic damage to it (though that patch of leather will certainly never be the same again).
The Shoanti looks around at the carnage that had, less than half a minute before, been a simple murder and looting, and turns to carefully withdraw from the battle, before dashing away as fast as he can in the direction that the Raven arrived from.
Similarly, Aspex takes a few cautious steps away from Jessibel before running away to the north, bypassing his unconscious (as well as bleeding) comrades without a care in the world other than getting away.
The nobleman groans, and slowly lifts himself up from his position on the ground. Groaning, he picks up his blade and a small wooden stick, before wiping the blade on one of the unconscious thugs’ clothing and sliding it into the stick. The others recognize it as a sword-cane similar to the one that the Vashnarstill had used at the riot. The nobleman promptly leans heavily on the cane. ”Thank you.” His smile is tired, but genuine. As he stands, the group sees that he is a young man with a slightly rougher beard than is fashionable, his hair and eyes dark.
When the fight is over, Nyxra stares at the thug she killed and picks up her dropped bow. A wave of nausea strikes her, and she is forced to lean against the wall to remain upright--despite the fact that she did not take a single blow.
Evidently, the whole affair has shaken Nyxra enough for her to not really pay attention to how badly the nobleman they saved was injured.
My first confirmed kill.
Blood. So much blood. Blood verywhere - on her sword, splashed on her armour, running in little rivulets along the cobbled street. Aisling carefully wipes the blade clean, before sheathing it. A feat made more difficult because her hands are shaking. She clutches at her holy symbol with one hand, and radiant light spreads over the scene, knitting flehs and binding wounds. She includes the fallen foes in its effects. Nobody has to die today, whoever side they are on.
She casts a wary eye over the two strangers: the nobleman and the masked fighter. The nobleman is easier. He gets a formal nod. "I am glad we passed this way. What made these thugs single you out? Were you at the protest earlier?"
Iomedae’s favor, in the form of Aisling’s healing wave, spreads over the alleyway, and both the Raven and Aisling feel their wounds close and their vitality restore itself. The nobleman straightens, before bowing deeply to the priestess. ”Thank you much, Sword Knight Talbot. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” He smiles charmingly.
”And I see Lady Jessibel over there as well. Thank you dearly for your aid, my lady.” His expression grows sorrowful. ”I wish I could have seen you on stage - I have heard that you are a most talented singer.”
She remembers her parents expressing sympathy for him, back when his transition was the talk of the city, but they also said that his own parents were models of ideal parenthood, helping him become his truest self.
”Ah, I forget my manners. I am Rexus Victocora. As for your other questions, I don’t think this is the best place to speak freely - the CCG and the dottari are still hunting down protesters. I do know of a place that could suit our needs for privacy better, however, and it is quite nearby.” Rexus looks to each of his rescuers. ”I would appreciate it if you were willing to join me. I have… well, much to say.”
Vantine is relieved when the remaining couple of heavies flee, but not as much as she'd like.
"I think we should keep moving. How about introductions as we walk? Lead the way Lord Victocora."
She finds the rescued nobleman pleasantly handsome, and the masked man a curious oddity.
Jessibel feels a wide array of emotions as the surviving CCG goons flee the fight: Relief that her life seems unlikely to end in this alley, regret that she and her friends were unable to quite finish what the loyalists had started, and absurd pride at her apparent skill with a blade.
I got in two hits and didn't even get a scratch in return! And Carli told me I'd likely be hopeless in a real fight! Ha!
Some of her misplaced bravado is erased when Rexus Victocora recognizes her. If he could recognize her, it was possible that some of the escaped loyalists might, too. Aspex, in particular, worried her. Still, she couldn't resist soaking in the young nobleman's praise.
"Thank you for the kind words, Lord Rexus," the bard replies, giving a curtsy (which just feels weird while she wears her form-fitting suit of armor). "With any luck, someone will rise up and boot our tyrant lord-mayor out of the opera house one of these days, and then you can see me and the other talented singers put on a real show for you and the rest of our fair city."
Turning to the masked man who helped in the battle, Jessi gives a lesser curtsy before addressing him. "Your timing was impeccable and your assistance was most welcome, Sir...Vulture? Wait--are you a plague physician?"
"Shut up, you coward! Run and answer to your father for all I care."
Jessibel vaguely recognizes Rexus’ name as that of the heir to the Victocora family. He was raised as a woman until his teens, at which point he changed to being a man. She’s not really sure how. But it was a scandal at the time, especially amongst the more conservative noble families. For her part, Jessibel’s grandmother found the scandal laughable, but Jessibel doesn’t recall why.
The Raven is a new figure in Kintargo - she doesn’t know much about him, only that he seems to have the interests of the people at heart. Even that is open to question - what she can be sure of at the moment is that he’s opposed to Thrune thugs beating up nobles, if, uh, not terribly effective in fighting them hand-to-hand. The knife throw was spectacular, though!
Aspex is a relatively common name in Cheliax, though it’s becoming less so with each passing year that Thrune edits the histories. Even so, there are enough men named Aspex in Kintargo that she’s not sure. There’s two that come to mind - Aspex Drathos, who is a minor noble with an interest in fishing, and Aspex Mingalan, a bookish composer associated with the Kintargo Opera House. Neither seem terribly likely to be the Aspex of the CCG.
Jessibel's gaze returns to the masked man and she blinks.
"Wait--you're The Raven! I've heard tales of you from one of my friends! She said you might not be evil!"
Jessibel belatedly shuts her mouth, realizing that her friend's words didn't exactly equal a ringing endorsement for the masked fellow.
Aisling blinks in surprise, before giving a smile. "Rexus Victorcora! I'd thought you were dead. I'm glad to meet you, too. Please by all means lead the way."
"Wait--you're The Raven! I've heard tales of you from one of my friends! She said you might not be evil!"
Aisling looks wary, but on the other hand they've made a lot of enemies today. "Evil or not, if you're against the Thrune thugs then we probably could use you." She isn't sure, and her tone of voice conveys it. She doens't know who this person is, but they don't seem very handy in a fight. Maybe he has some other useful talent.
The Raven leans against the cold stone wall and begins to slide down it when the wave of healing magic hits him and he straightens, the darkness encroaching on his vision retreating. This had not been the best showing of his martial prowess, but then again, the Raven did not often fly into group combat in the light of day. More of a nocturnal ambush predator was the Raven. The Raven was both surprised and unsurprised at how little time it had taken for Thrune to begin attack nobility in broad daylight.
”A plague physician?” He chuckles, the sound muffled and deepened by his mask. ”Yes, yes. A different kind of plague and a different kind of physician, but I would call myself a healer.” The masked man approaches Jessibel and takes her hand, bowing deeply over it to mime kissing the ladies’ hand but, of course, his mask prevents actual contact. ”And not evil! ...Depending on what you consider to be evil. These, uh, whatever they call themselves.” He gestures to the fallen CCG laying in pools of rapidly freezing blood. ”Might dispute that characterization.” Standing and surrendering the ladies’ hand, his head flicks in a very bird-like fashion to each of the women in turn, the smoky quartz lenses that cover his eyes obscuring where exactly he is looking. With an amused chuff, he asks ”If it is not too presumptuous, how does such a beautiful and deadly troupe of young women find themselves in an alleyway on this frigid and bloody day?”
Vantine is less picky than Jessibel or Aisling concerning questions about the mysterious man's part or motives. The masked man, presumably the 'Raven' according to Jessibel, showed up and helped, sort of.
She approaches him slowly and gently, similar to how one might try to catch a stray dog. Vantine places one of her hands reassuring on his forearm. The other goes to the small of his back, as if to help lead him along.
"Thank you for your help. We're grateful. But it's time to go now. Come along."
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Jessibel blushes at the masked stranger's audacious yet somehow at the same time courteous attention. "Sorry about possibly impugning your character just then. My friend says you're seemingly an agent who defends our city, but she also warned me that no one stalks the streets at night without some strong motivation...be it good or evil. Still, she told me that if I found myself in danger after dark, it probably wouldn't hurt to scream for The Raven as a last resort."
Her eyes narrow briefly in jealousy when Vantine swoops in and works her charms on the man, but those feelings are short-lived: Vantine is who she is and is unlikely to ever change. Besides, Jessi reasons, The Raven likely wears a mask to hide an ugly face.
The Raven shrugs, placing a hand between the woman’s shoulder blades and allowing himself to be guided. It was difficult for him to see, after all. ”Believe it or not, I hadn’t any plans for the day anyways.” He casts a glance back at the bodies, dead or unconscious, piled in the alley. A strange set of coincidences had guided him to these women. Could these be the friends he had been waiting for all these years? One wealthy man in a mask could not topple an empire alone. He had been treading water at best. This could be the day things begin to change for the better. If not, at least Vantine was pleasant company.
”If it is not too presumptuous, how does such a beautiful and deadly troupe of young women find themselves in an alleyway on this frigid and bloody day?”
Aisling makes a face as the question barbs at her in a sensitive spot. Illegal things, is what I've been doing. Justifiable, in a moral sense. But unquestionably illegal.
Oh Goddess, my parents are going to combust.
"That is a good question. If I find an answer I will let you know. But can we focus on moving along, please?" Her answer is a little more combative than she intended, but his question hit a sore spot whether he realised it or not. She has enough self-awareness to realise this isn't his fault.
It doesn't help.
"Shouldn't we steal their stuff?" Jessibel asks the others. "After all, they were planning on stealing ours!"
"And maybe hide the bodies...if Aisling's healing pulse didn't stabilize them?" the teen adds in a terse whisper. Turning to Rexus she asks, "How did you take down so many of them on your own? You must be a very capable warrior!"
Rexus shakes his head slightly. "No, not at all, Lady Jessibel. I have very little skill with..." He gestures with his cane. "This, but I do have my ways. A few minor spells, is all." He looks at the others.
Rexus waits for everyone to assent to his offer of a secure place to speak before nodding. ”Very good. Crissali’s Fine Tomes is a secure place to talk - at least for the time being.”
Rexus looks at the mess of CCG thugs on the ground. ”I would suggest tying them up, but I have no rope, and do not think that I could tie an effective knot. I’m no sailor.” With that said, he gestures broadly for the group to follow him. As they walk, he speaks to the Raven.
”Do not worry that your garb will garner overmuch attention, sir. Nandy is used to odd people visiting her shop, even those who do not want their identities known. She will pay you little enough mind.” He pauses, then chuckles dryly as he looks at both himself and the Raven. ”Well, so long as we don’t get any blood on her books, at least!”
After a moment, he shakes his head, as though to clear it. "Ah, but of course. Here." He chants a spell, his hands flowing through arcane gestures.
Once he finishes, the blood on both his own and the Raven's clothing cleans itself off. He offers the same to the ladies, after a moment, looking abashed that it has taken him this long to think of it.
Aisling looks a bit stricken as Jessibel openly contemplates aggravated robbery. On the other hand, "We could take their weapons at least. Prevent them attacking anyone else. But I'm not taking their coins or valuables or anything else. I'm not going to sink to their level."