After saying her farewells to the others, Jessibel leads Aisling to her modest apartment. It's small, neat, and decorated with an eclectic mix of artsy knickknacks, none of which is very valuable.
Inevitably, Jessi tells Aisling that the bedroll was bought in case her friend, Carlissa Solstine, ever needed a place to stay if she were to get caught too far from home close to the curfew. Jessi describes her friend, telling Aisling that Carli doesn't seem to be part of her family's businesses, but that the young woman knows the Argo Isle districts of the city like the back of her hand and has her finger on the pulse of its people.
"She's got friends and contacts throughout this half of the city," Jessi tells the Iomedaean. "I'm not sure if she scopes things out for her family and its business interests or if there's something deeper to it all. She's a decent person though, and it might be in our best interest to get her to join our rebel crew in some manner."
"She's got some family matter to attend to for the next few days--that's why she wasn't at the protest--but I'll talk to her when I can...if you think it wise."
Jessibel sleeps like the dead that night. It's a good thing that Aisling is present to get her moving the next morning, else she'd have been about an hour late for the rendezvous. She again uses prestidigitation to make her armor uniformly black to avoid being mistaken for a loyalist.
Nyxra makes her way home that night, taking less-travelled routes and keeping to the shadows whenever possible.
When she gets home, she practically collapses onto her bed, burning with exhaustion.
Aisling is glad to get out of her armour, she has never worn it for that length of time before. She slumps gratefully onto the bedroll that Jessi provides and listens to the artist while she cleans the blade of her longsword. She considers the qeustion carefully, not giving an immediate answer. "I think we're going to need as much help as we can get." She smiles at Jessi. "If you trust her, that's good enough for me. But be careful what you tell her at first. She might not want to know too much." Another thought strikes her. "Oh, yes. Make sure you tell her that we're serious. This isn't some game that's fun to join in for a bit. What we're doing could get us, and a lot of other people, killed." She doesn't want to rain on Jessibel's enthusiasm, but it's important for her to be realistic.
The following morning, she takes advantage of the bard's lenghty lie-in to spend some time alone in prayer, before getting dressed and poking Jessibel with one foot. "OK, sleepyhead. Time to get up. I dont mind sleeping on the floor, but this rebel needs breakfast before she wields a sword." The frown is back on her face, but there's the faint trace of a smile, too.
Despite breaking curfew to sneak home, Nyxra faces no challenges on her way back. Her father attempts to greet her and ask about her day, but she is unable to remain awake long enough even to exchange more than the briefest of greetings with him before making her way into her room to sleep.
She hears her brother saying something to her father as she falls asleep. "-you think she's going to be fine?"
Fortunately, Jessibel and Aisling face no threats on their journey to Jessi's flat. Indeed, as the Raven suggested earlier, no one else seems to be out in the pouring rain. For that matter, they likely wish they were not out in the rain themselves, as the weather seems to suck heat from their very bones.
Say 'no' and risk being killed by the Chelaxian Citizen's Group, or say 'yes' and risk being ritually murdered as a sacrifice to whatever bird demon god masked man worships?
"I would appreciate your doing so Sir. Thank you."
The walk back to Vantine's flat is a short rapid one because it's close by and because the rain drives them to rush. Vantine thanks the Raven for escorting her and bids him goodnight.
She falls asleep with a higher estimation of the Raven's character since he did not murder her. But she is also puzzled by what the immediate future might hold. Being part of a resistance is very much a blank page her imagination struggles to fill with any solid actions. After all, public opinion is demonstrably something Barzillai Thrune cares nothing about, which means weapons and bloodshed at some future point of no return.
Hopefully those who know how to use such things have a better ideas about what is to be done.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
As is her habit, Vantine is 10 minutes late to the rendezvous the next morning. It is the incompetent barista's fault. He could not get the her coffee right the first time around.
A young man stalks the dark, lonely streets of Kintargo. Freezing rain patters loudly against his hood and chain armor. Slushy rivulets gather together and run down the folds of his cloak. He wanders aimlessly for a while, stopping once to help push a cart out of a rut. As curfew nears, he walks into an inn. Pushing back his hood, thick, curly brown hair, sideburns, and beard frame brown eyes but mostly obscure his face. He approaches the innkeeper and silently pays for a room. Despite the weather and the deadly events of the day, a small smile pulls at the man’s lips. Perhaps he found something he was looking for?
====================
The Raven arrives at the meeting place well before the others, but he hangs back for a while and observes to make sure the area isn’t being watched too intently by anyone who looks too curious. After the first couple of his companions arrive, he joins them. This morning, a simple black masquerade-esque mask covers the areas around his eyes and a beaklike projection covers the bridge of his nose but leaves his mouth and jaw uncovered. His ‘plague doctor’ mask protruded beyond the cover of his deep hood and drew attention no matter what he did. At night this was not so much of a problem as the vast majority of Kintargo citizens would happily leave a masked man alone, but it was too obvious to wear during the day. With his hood up, the more discrete mask would only be visible to those he was looking directly at. He has a neatly trimmed short brown beard and is smiling as he approaches the women.
”Ladies! I trust you all had a restful, uneventful night?” He takes Jessibel’s hand once again, bowing and this time actually kissing the back of her hand.
Moonday, the 11th of Abadius 4715
As the Silver Ravens rise from their rest and go about preparing for the day, they notice a distinct chill to the air even inside the buildings. A glance outside reveals that at some point last night, the rain turned to snow, which has piled up on the streets and buildings. Fortunately for ease of travel, it’s only a few inches deep at the moment. Unfortunately, there’s still a significant amount of snow falling in thick, fat flakes.
Thus, when the group finally make their ways to their prearranged gathering point, they do so with hunched shoulders and heads cast down. Something about the crunch of the snow beneath their boots seems odd - off somehow, despite the fact that it makes a great deal of sense that when one walks on snow, it crunches.
Many people in the wealthier districts have sent out servants to begin cleaning off their streets, but progress is slow. In poorer areas, it's practically nonexistent, as the people are mostly making do by stepping in the footsteps of other people.
When they all have arrived, at their various times, they discover that Rexus is yet to arrive.
It's tough to judge if Jessibel blushes this time at the Raven's gallantry: Her face is already a bit rosy from the cold.
"Where's our leader...or patron...or whatever you want to label him?" she wonders aloud. "The snow is wonderful!" she gushes. "It'll let us know if anything has been milling around once we reach our destination...though it'll also betray our presence there as well."
Turning to Vantine, the teen smirks and adds, "Unless it's ghosts! Ghosts don't leave footprints in the snow, do they?"
"I was only repeating what I heard. I'm not claiming the place is haunted." Vantine seems to have a case of the early morning grumps.
She shuffles her feet in the snow to help keep them warm, and shoves each hand up the opposing sleeve of her coat, treating the sleeves like a impromptu hand muff.
He did say he was coming right? How long do you think we should wait for him? I suppose we could go, and then afterward walk to the coffee shop to check in about him..."
As silence falls again Vantine adds how did everyone sleep?"
Aisling spent some serious time wondering whether to prepare a spell that wards her against the cold, but ultimatly decidded to endure it herself. She is wrapped up as warmly as she can, but the frost glitters on the front of her armour. "There won't be many tracks if it keeps on snowing," she reminds Jessibel. She shivers. "Speaking of which, shall we get inside where it's warm?"
As silence falls again Vantine adds how did everyone sleep?"
Aisling flinches slightly at the question, but answers it truthfully. "I had several dreams re-living my swordfitghs, especially the blood. But I did get to sleep eventually. What about you?"
Vantine keeps shuffling and stomping absentmindedly.
"Once I fell asleep, I slept hard. Completely out."
"What's that you're reading there?" She asks, leaning over his shoulder for a better look.
Nyxra arrives not long after Aisling does, bundled up in her leathers and still carrying all of her kit. She looks up at the snowy, overcast sky as she arrives.
It's kinda quiet... almost quiet enough to forget that we're in the grip of a tyrant.
"I'd have been even more fashionably late than Vantine, were it not for my roomie being so punctual!" Jessibel chirps. "I had a brief, weird nightmare where Nox was producing an opera I was in. Did not end well...."
Talathel puts the scroll down, his eyes falling half-shut, a habit that Nyxra recognizes as something he does when he’s not quite sure how to respond. After several moments, he sighs aloud and says. ”I’m studying Polyglot. On Living Magic.”
He glances up at her with his solid grey eyes. ”It’s from Old-Mage Jatembe’s works. Or at least, those attributed to him by his disciples’ disciples.” His lips quirk slightly, before he tilts his head inquisitively. ”What of yourself? What are you planning today?”
About five minutes after the group has gathered, Rexus arrives, dressed in heavy clothing that conceals much of his figure. As he approaches, he is muttering darkly about dottari and laziness, but he brightens upon seeing everyone present.
”Wonderful. I’m sorry I’m late, there were some… inconveniences on the way. Damn dottari aren’t interested in cleaning the streets nowadays.”
Rexus shakes his head. ”It’s petty, and stupid. How many people are going to be injured or die because they lose their way in the snow or fall and cannot get out of snowbanks? Two? Ten?” The nobleman grimaces, before sighing. ”All the more reason to get started. Are you all ready?”
"Ready!" Jessibel squeaks with a giggle. It's obvious she enjoys the snowfall, if not the cold that accompanies it. She's constantly looking this way and that throughout the trip to the livery, ostensibly to look out for trouble, but also to enjoy the beauty the clinging snow imparts to the city.
"We're walking through Whiteroof--not Redroof--for a day at least," she comments with a smile.
Indeed, as the Silver Ravens walk through the streets of Redroof, their breath misting and their footsteps kicking up more powdery snow than is already falling, the oddly muffled quality of the air lends itself to the sense that they are the only ones in the city.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Jessi does not notice anything especially threatening or troublesome. She does see, however, a set of icicles that vaguely resemble a bundle of roses when she first looks at them, though they swiftly return to more normal icicles as she continues onwards. Probably just a trick of her eyes.
Rexus chuckles at Jessibel's words, though he is panting slightly. "Well, if we're going that far... it's Whitewall, too." He gestures at the snow-covered walls. "Gozreh might be favoring us, actually." He gasps, falling silent to take a few breaths.
"No one's going to be out in this weather, and it's not a blizzard, so we won't lose our way that easily."
Jessibel promptly wanders off a ways, enchanted by some icicles hanging from the eaves of a nearby building.
”I believe the unchanging streets and stone walls will prevent us from getting too lost, lord.” The Raven says, a hint of amusement in his voice. Just as well that I stayed close by last night. It is a long walk from the manner in snow like this. He claps the lord on his shoulder when he stops. ”Are you quite well? Too much of your life traveling by coach and not on foot, perhaps?” I knew I should have followed him last night. Leaving him alone was a mistake.
Rexus laughs again, though it's more of a coughing rasp than a sound of amusement. "Perhaps. If you could find them. I don't know if you recall the blizzard back in 4698..." He falls silent again, modulating his breathing, before continuing. "One of my family's servants died on his way out from the manor to his home. Just because he fell down and lost himself in the snow."
At the Raven's expression of concern, Rexus frowns, waving his hands. "Nothing to worry about. I've never been terribly hardy." He stops, looking around at the surrounding buildings. "I think we turn left here. We should be there soon."
...and we all need to cope somehow.
"I'm heading out today. Meeting some friends." She replies, not offering much else.
Nyxra shrugs. "Well, no need to worry. I know the city well enough that as long as you stick with me, we won't get lost."
”I prefer to take higher roads.” The Raven says, looking up at the snow laden rooftops above them. ”Get a bird’s eye view.” He smiles, his mind wandering back to nights spent running across the rooftops of the city with friends as a young teen. ”It’s safer up there. In a way.”
"Is that why I keep hearing complaints about noises on the roofs at night?' Rexus asks, his eyes twinkling in amusement. Abruptly, he pauses, coughing. "Oof. Let's move quickly... I don't want to stay in this cold longer than I have to."
His lips are tinged blue from the cold, but he seems stoic enough.
Rexus is putting on a brave face, but he is definitely very cold. Probably not lethally so, but he's definitely uncomfortable with the current environment.
Aisling looks scornful as Rexus reminds her of the dottari's traditional function in clearing the street, although her scorn is not directed at him. "How typical of a bullly to make lives harder for everyone just becuase he can. Unfortunately there's no law to compel the dottari to do that, only tradition. Which can be ignored, apparently."
As the others chatter and joke about colours and rooftops, she watches Rexus carefully. "Don't be a fool. We need you in one piece and our little group is no good if you freeze yourself solid. If you're cold and you need to get indoors, just say so."
Rexus waves his hand. "Not to worry, not to worry. As I said we're... almost there." He manages, leaning heavily on his cane.
Indeed, within a minute, the group arrives at the old Fair Fortune Livery. The building is obviously run-down, having been left to the elements for a great deal of time. Rexus steps forwards pushing on the door, before frowning. Unfortunately, the door barely opens a crack before it is stopped dead in its tracks.
"Locked... and chained, now that I look at it more closely." He grunts, stepping away. The crack in the door is open wide enough that the group could probably slip through, given enough time and maneuverability , but Rexus looks at his fellows, eyes slitted against the snow.
"I don't suppose anyone happened to bring a key?" He jokes.
The dry legal text flashes through Aisling's mind: breaking and entering is an Erebus-category felony, punishable by... She dismisses it, with some effort. After what she's done alerady, it's nothing. And besides, there's really only one law in the whole of Cheliax: thou shalt not get caught. That is a law she can get behind, at least for now, utnil more just laws are in place. She looks both ways along the street before using the hilt of her longsword as a lever to try and break apart the rusted chain.
It takes Aisling a few moments (perhaps because she is distracted by her knowledge of the law), but she swiftly snaps the chain, rendering the presence of the lock thereon moot. As it falls to the ground, she hears barking from inside the building - as do the others.
The barks are quite loud, to have penetrated through the wooden door (albeit one that is partially open), and as she shoves the door open, the light from outside (grey and overcast though the day is) shines through the doorway to reveal a trio of skin-and-bones dogs. One is quite large - a mastiff of some breed, while the other two are more akin to mutts. Their fur is matted and their teeth are bared.
Though the three dogs are obviously aggressive, they're not making any moves - their barks have receded into audible growling, warning the group away from their territory.
”Aww. Those poor pups are hungry. We should bring them some food. They can guard our nest. Ravens collect shiny things, wouldn’t want any devilish felines stealing our treasures.”
Jessibel instantly freezes. "When my grandmother's infernal poodle barks and growls like that, he's getting ready to bite if you don't back off!"
"Maybe we should look for another way inside?" she asks nervously.
The Raven pulls the door closed. ”We can distract them with food, no doubt. A big mastiff and his pack would keep people from getting too curious about this building.”
It takes Aisling a few moments (perhaps because she is distracted by her knowledge of the law), but she swiftly snaps the chain, rendering the presence of the lock thereon moot.
Aisling gives the others a look as the chain snaps on the door. "This. Never. Happened." Her frown is real enough, but there's a slight tug at the corners of her mouth that suggests she might not be entirely serious.
She takes a quick look at the dogs, and nods. "If we give them food, they might be loyal to us. Is anyone here any good with animals? And where should we get the food from?"
Nyxra snickers. "I've worked with a lot of animals. I think they'll listen to me."
Vantine walks to the Livery without saying much. She's in a slightly gloomy sate of mind, still unsure how her presence will be of any real help.
Things aren't off to a good start. She's unconcerned about breaking into an old abandoned building, but the dogs look like a real problem.
"Those scars on their bodies look odd. They're not straight lines like weapon scars. They don't look like dog bites either. Those dogs have been fighting with something else."
"We could try giving them food. But where are we going to get any?"
”We are in the middle of a city, my dear. Food isn’t that far off. Though we cannot lock up while we leave. Someone broke the lock.”
Vantine rolls her eyes.
"I didn't mean 'where will we get food at all without walking for a day or foraging'; I meant 'I don't know this part of the city at all and we're in a snowstorm'."
"Why would we need to lock the place back up? It's a long abandoned building full of threatening dogs. And we're to the middle of a snowstorm. Who's going to come by and take advantage? If the dogs wandered off because the gate is open, that would be a plus don't you think?"
"Whatever we choose to do, I beg of you choose quickly, before my whiskers grow any whiter." Though Rexus is joking, there is a definite edge of desperation to his tone. He stomps his feet, trying to keep the blood flow up, and rubs his free hand vigorously over the arm that holds his cane.
A chill gust blows snow off of the ground, making the flakes in the air even denser, a reminder that staying outside is not exactly a viable option under the circumstances.
"I've got rations in my bag, and I can get more elsewhere." Nyxra digs out the packets of beef jerky in her pack before approaching the dogs.
She makes little cooing noises as she approaches the biggest dog, holding out some jerky for him to sniff.
The dogs' growls escalate in volume as Nyxra approaches, with one of the two smaller ones letting out a sharp bark that sets the humans' teeth on edge. Nevertheless, they do not immediately attack. The mastiff takes the jerky in its mouth, chewing swiftly and swallowing, before backing away slightly, its hackles still raised.
Now that Nyxra is closer, she can see the dogs' scars more clearly, and though she cannot identify their source for certain, she can tell that they aren't from each other or from humans - or other weapons. They do look like tooth marks, though, for the most part.
The dogs seem unwilling to attack the elf, but it's not clear whether that will extend to other members of the Silver Ravens.
Moving close to the partly open door, Jessibel remembers the old saying: 'Music soothes the savage beast.' She starts humming a soft tune, adding in some of the baby talk her grandmother uses to placate her savage poodle, Harcule.
"Who's a good poochie-woochie? You are! Who wants a big smoochie-moochie? You do!"
Keen to avoid spoiling Nyxra's efforts with the dogs, Vantine stays quiet and still.
At first, Jessibel’s baby talk and attempt to calm the animals seems to be largely ignored, save by one of the smaller two dogs, who looks at her warily, hackles raised. However, perhaps it is something in her bearing or her familiar with dreadfully ornery canines, it seems to have (bafflingly) helped in some way, as the dogs seem to relax slightly, though they still eye Nyxra and the others warily.
Nyxra, in particular, is the subject of much attention - the dogs are drooling at the prospect of more food, and approach her cautiously.
"Good doggies! Smart doggies! Be good and let us snoop around a bit, OK? Ooh, those are such sweet, lovable doggies! Yes you are!"
Still humming and baby-talking the pack of strays, Jessibel inches forward, staying close to northern end of the chamber.
Aisling knows she isn't carrying any food. She would have eaten it to stay warm. Keeping a cautious eye on the dogs, she edges around the room and trys to stay as far away from them as she can. "Does that mean we need to feed them when we want to leave, as well?"
"As long as you don't smell like you have food on you, they shouldn't attack..." Nyxra says as she digs more beef jerky out of her bag and offers it to the approaching dogs.
"You've been through a lot, haven't you boys? Here ya go."
Vantine doesn't have any food on her since she fully expects to be back well in time for lunch. Stables aren't very big. She keeps a maximum distance from the dogs, sliding around the corner of the fence at the gate and following Jessibel inside.
The smaller dogs take the meat this time, before running off to devour their newfound treats. The mastiff, however, looks at Nyxra more hopefully, begging for more. It seems largely oblivious to the others coming in, though that is likely an illusion.
Meanwhile, Rexus enters the Livery with a relieved sigh, leaning back against one of the stalls' walls, which creaks threateningly. He blinks, and stands upright immediately. "My mother's letter said that there should be chambers below this building. I'm not sure where they are, but we should look around to find any sign of them." The nobleman says, though he makes few moves other than tucking his cane underneath an arm to rub both arms vigorously - clearly, he's still rather chilly.
Nyxra sighs, gives the mastiff a pitying look and feeds him the rest of her jerky.
"Who's a good boy? Are you a good boy? Yes you are. Yes you are." She coos as she offers the meat.
Jessibel smirks at Nyxra as the elf sweettalks the big dog. "Either you're a budding bard or I'm a budding ranger!" she jokes. After drawing her rapier and casting a light spell on its tip, Jessi moves deeper into the livery, looking for anything of interest.