Green yelps as he tastes the whip. Cyan & Purple snore for now.
Vashimort, Ariadne, Vedika & Iorghil may act.
Vedika takes a single step forward and slashes with her curved knife.
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As the goon scoffs at her awkward attempt to strike at him, Ari's body catches up, her muscles and reflexes adjusting to the altered size...it sometimes took a moment.
There is a sudden flash of movement, far quicker than should be possible at her current size, but moreover, the perfection of the attack is such that, one moment, the goon was preparing to square off with Vedika, the next her was falling, bisected, onto the cobblestone streets, unable to utter a sound.
Ghil continues across the square. He didn't know what was happening here, not yet, but his friends were under attack and that was enough. I'll get the story later, let's deal with this now. "Nethan, good to see you again, my friend. Let me lend a little hand," he says, touching the fighter on the shoulder.
This spell imbues the subject with a touch of divine guidance. The creature gets a +1 competence bonus on a single attack roll, saving throw, or skill check. It must choose to use the bonus before making the roll to which it applies.
Moving forward, Vazhimort switches his hypnotic stare to the only thug still on their feet , and then fires his crossbow at them.
"Feel my sting!" he screeches, hoping that the thug actually felt his sting.
Vedika misses her attack, but it doesn't matter as Ariadne then cuts him down with one perfect stike of her oversized weapon.
Vazhimort stings Green with his small weapon.
Green goes white as he watches his companion get bisected and makes a hasty retreat into the rats nest of the back alleys.
Cyan & Lilac are both still asleep and will be for another minute or so.
What do you want to do with them?
Seemingly without any feelings about it one way or another, Vedika steps up to cut the throat of one of the sleepers.
"They'll just do this to someone else if they walk away from this," she notes.
Ariadne watches Vedika make quick work of the unconscious thug, taking a moment to assess the situation before nodding. Taking a single step forward, she reverses t\her grip on her sword, using both hands to drive the blade, point down through the sleeping goon's chest, twisting the blade once it strikes the ground beneath him.
"Agreed. Might as well see if they have anything of use and get on with finding your sister. This night is only going to get crazier."
"Good to see you too Ghil," Nethen replies, grateful for the magical assistance. He draws his arm back to snap his whip out again when Ariadne's enormous sword sweeps round and cuts the last of the thugs in two.
He stands, stunned for a moment, before Vedika and Ariadne execute the last two thugs. Nethen nods in agreement. "They wouldn't have shown any mercy to the next group they came across," he says. "We need to keep moving, there's no telling who or what else is roaming the city in this chaos."
Loot:
MW breastplate (2),
Mithral Chainshirt,
MW rapier,
MW greatclub (2),
MW brass knuckles (2),
Cloak of resistance +1 (2),
Potion of gaseous form
8gp
.
"Hi, Iorghil! Hi! We saw Zelera! She was a spooky ghost! It was pretty neat!"
"I wasn't supposed to see you so soon; I thought I had a good lead on my sister/cousin/neice--I never knew what to call my 'siblings,' really, since we're all adopted--but the city just went nuts! I can't get anywhere, so I came back; I think I'm lucky I actually found you! What's happening?"
By the time they finish relieving the bodies of anything useful, Ariadne's body has returned to her normal size. Retrieving her dropped crossbow she looks over to Iorghil, answering his question with the briskness of a field report.
"The King is dead. Chaos throughout the streets. We're trying to get to Vedika's sister before things get even crazier and she gets swallowed up in the mayhem."
Eric sighs as the man is swiftly bisected by Ariadne. "Yeah - not even going to try and put that back together. And after I went out of my way to warn them, too..."
He whistles when the group starts searching the fallen bandits. "This is some really, really good stuff. Worth a small fortune, all in all. Whoever these guys were, they were incredibly rich compared to the average citizen. I guess it's likely they just stole it from others in the past and their greed just kept them going. Killing them was probably the right call."
He eyes Iorghil when attention turns to the newcomer. "You were with the others when they finished Gaedren Lemm? In that case, you have my thanks. I'm Eric, Eric Gennady. Of the Shoanti. Fortunate we are to have you appear in a time of need, like... ah... hold on," He draws out a small notebook and flips through it. "'A cloudbreak quenching the thirst of dusted crops and parched throats both.'"
The rat coming back into view from beath his fur hat situates himself on the shoulder and nods at the Shoanti as he finishes speaking. Eric nods and extends a hand for iorghil to shake.
Eric's apperance was a somewhat strange cross between shoanti tribal clothes, a breastplate, and a many-ended black spear. His blond hair and pointed eyes indicated both Elven and Ulfan heritage somewhere in recent past.
"I bet the invisible imps are this way!"
Vazhimort runs off, never to be seen again.
The Imps have vanished on search of easier prey. Vazhimort also vanishes mysteriously.
You divide the spoils of your victory and move on cautiously. The night is filled with shouts, screams and the baying of those out to make trouble.
Bands of rioting laborers run in mobs, battering anyone dressed in finery with snarling yowls of “Die, dandy!” and “Death to the false queen!”
Soon you reach a road and come across the edge of a riot where a mob of thugs wielding shovels, chair-legs, and other club-like weapons surround Amin Jalento, a beardless young nobleman.
One of the laborers, a burly woman with greasy strings of hair framing her rotund face, jeers and addresses the young man in a booming voice, “Bet’cha never worked an honest day’s wage in your life, eh, Queen’s Man? M’brother had his arm crushed by a barrel on the docks when he was younger than you. Never raised a mug of ale with that wrist again. Wanna
know what it feels like?”
What are you doing now?
.
Ariadne can definitely read the trappings of nobility on the man surrounded by the small mob. While there were definitely those among the nobility that deserved the absolute worst the city had to give, she'd also seen those of noble birth extend kindness to those, many of their peers considered beneath notice.
They couldn't simply abandon the man to the fate that seemed about to descend on him.
Nethen is quite sure whether he recognises the young man being threatened, but he definitely recognises the violence that's about to ensue as the angry mob surrounds him.
Uncoiling his whip Nethen cracks it loudly in the air, hoping to draw the thugs' attention. "Things seem to be going wrong tonight, but there's no need for them to go more wrong for you," he calls to the group. "Move along, and you'll wake up tomorrow with no more than a wounded sense of pride."
Ghil grips and draws his new magical dagger, but remains silent, trying to assess the situation.
Eric moves up behind Nethen and brandishes his spear. "Whatever's happening in this city, you don't have the right to just single out and attack others at your whim! Even if he's a noble, or a spoiled one. To do so unprovoked makes him better than you, and you worse than them. Leave him, or we'll be forced to step in. And the blood of criminals and madmen is already on our hands."
Amin Jalento is remarkably unexceptionable. The son of a minor noble family with interests in trade, mainly clothes and other items for the apparel market.
Amin himself aside from trying to always appear well dressed is harmless.
The rioters are unprepared for a well armed and prepared group, they look around nervously at Nethen & Eric's words.
The ringleader looks prepared for a fight and puffs herself up threateningly for a moment, but as her supports slip away she deflates and with a number of unpleasant words stalks away as well.
Amin is profoundly grateful, offering you a valuable signet ring as thanks for rescuing him, while he wears a rapier it is more an accessory than a weapon for him.
He does ask hopefully if you could escort back to his family home in the Heights.
What are you doing now?
"Lucky for you we were heading to the Heights anyway," Nethen says, somewhat distressed by how unprepared this young man seemed to be. "We'll get you home safe as we can."
"Otherwise you're likely to find yourself in the same situation at the hand of another group." Ariadne agrees as they head through the streets, keeping Amin in the middle of the group.
"Yeah, Amin. You're welcome to jin. Though, if I might ask, what were you doing out here by yourself?" Eric asks as they continue towards the heights.
"I think we were all a little surprised by the sudden riot!" Ghil laughs, nodding his agreement to add Amin to the party for a brief time.
Amin blushes a little but tells you he had been spending time with someone he cares greatly about. They had spent most of the day together and he had been returning home when the troubles started.
The Guard presence is much stronger around the Heights Luckily Amin being with you lets you pass without objection. Though you do get a few suspicious looks.
As you reach the quieter and much prettier streets of Korvosa's noble families you are accosted, a figure staggers out of an alleyway and straightens up for a moment, swaying in place as he blinks at you.
He points at Nethen and proclaims loudly. "Neffi? Neffi from Sandpoint. What are you doing here you old dog?"
The man wears the uniform of the Guard but he’s a mess—he hasn’t changed
his uniform in days and he reeks of stale sweat and ale.
With a successful DC 18 Knowledge (local) check, a PC recognizes him as a well-liked watch sergeant who seems to have hit the bottom.
What are you doing now? He is waiting for a reply.
"Hey Sarge, it's Nethen, not Neffi," Nethen replies to the obviously inebriated watch sergeant he's had run-ins with more than once. "You look like you could do with a coffee and a lie down."
Ghil seems to recognize the guard captain too. "What are you doing up here? You do realize there's a full-fledged riot down there, right? You're needed; you can't be drunk in the Heights when the city's approaching ruin?!?"
Vedika chimes in, wrapping an arm around the guard's shoulders and saying, "C'mon, it's a bad time, but you have to rise to the challenge! The city needs you now more than ever. If you accord yourself well, you might even earn notice and a promotion... and it's a chance to save some lives and do some good. This is the time."
"Look, Sarge, it's anarchy down there. People are looting, killing, maybe worse if the opportunities present themselves. This is a time to make a new for yourself! Round up the guards and anyone willing to not just stand by and let it all happen! When we're done saving our family here, we'll try and do the same!" Eric implores the man.
Eric's words seem to penetrate the haze of cheap alcohol clouding his mind. He straightens up, "You're right dammit! Can't keep wallowing in the past. Damn Vencarlo and Sabina. Leave it behind!"
He turns and head towards Citadel Volshyenek to report for duty. Unsteady at first but slowing becoming more stable as he leaves you behind.
You are now alone in the heights, being minor nobles Amin Jalento and his family live on the fringes. You can see him home easily now.
The Heights are quieter than the rest of the city. Between the watch and their private guards the mob hasn't ventured here for too long. However most of the houses are locked down as the rich hide the storm out behind their guards. Getting to see anyone, or information will be difficult to say the least!
You are in the Heights but seeing anyone will be difficult. What are you doing?
With the rich kid safely tucked away with his family Nethen looks around at the surprisingly quiet streets. "Vedika, did you find out any more about where that creep might have taken your sister?"
Vedika shakes her head and says, "Just what I mentioned before... someone who apparently trains youngsters for wealthy clients, in this neighborhood. Um... maybe we should be on the lookout for other children?"
Ghil considers Vedika's suggestion, and wracks his mind thinking for any place in the Heights that might serve as reasonable cover for such an operation.
Ariadne considers their options, trying to think of the best way to find, who might have Vedyka's sister.
"Who are this Vancarlo and Sabina?" Eric asks the others as the guard Sergeant walked away. "Truth be told, I'm not that familiar with this area - or the nobles in General, I guess. Being both a bastard and a Shoanti doesn't tend to help. Sure, I know my way to the Gennady Mansion, but not much else around here. And certainly not whoever would 'train' these children for wealthy clients!" The grip on his branch tightens as he says the last bit.
A bit of thought and wracking your brains turns up the knowledge that there are two places you could go to seek out information in The Heights.
While there are many stories about the decadent habits of the nobility and wealthy, there is little in any hard proof. Korvosa's draconian laws make openly displaying your illegal games very dangerous.
*******************************************************************
Standing atop Citadel Hill, the Heights District has a commanding view of the rest of the city, which its residents look down on—both figuratively and literally.
Nearly all of Korvosa’s power players reside in the Heights, including
the queen herself. The Heights District holds three wards: Citadel Crest, Cliffside, and University.
.
The two places that would be best to pick up gossip and information are The Jittery Quill in the University ward. This low-key establishment serves both ale and coffee, making it the favorite haunt of university
students and faculty alike. It stays open all hours, six days a week, closing every Oathday at noon and reopening at dusk the next day.
The other place and more likely to be open and have customers during the troubles is in the Cliffside ward. The Overlook: Teetering on the edge of the Merciless Cliffs, the Overlook gets a little closer to falling
into the raging surf below every year.
This hint of danger carries over to the tavern’s offerings: Asa Hemrich, the Overlook’s owner and bartender, offers a drink he calls This-n-That. This-n-That has no recipe and no definite look or taste. Whenever a brave-hearted patron orders the concoction, Asa creates the drink with whatever he has on hand, including wine gone sour, dishwater, his own mucus, and—of course—copious amounts of alcohol.
Anyone who can finish off a This-n-That earns Asa’s respect and gets
to drink for free the rest of the night. Asa makes a This-n-That several times every week, but he only has to give away free alcohol once or twice a month.
The Jittery Quill would give you students and Faculty. The students come from the wealthier families of the area and might know about the seedier side of the heights.
The Overlook is probably the lowest class place in the heights and tends to attract those looking to make a profit from the wealthy.
What are you doing now?
”I’d say our best bet on getting any information on this Pet-maker, would be The Overlook. It’s a as much of a dive as you’ll find in The Heights, attracts people who profit off of shady dealings, so any criminal, or…illegal activity going on here is likely to pass through there at some point.
There’s a whole ordeal involving the place’s ‘signature drink,’ if you can call it that, that’ll likely earn a decent amount of respect from the locals if one of us can down it and keep it down." Ariadne tells her companions as they look out at the Heights District.
"The other likely place would be The Jittery Quill, popular place for University Faculty and students... rich kids who might have an ear to the gossip about the seedier stuff going on behind closed doors."
"I've heard of The Overlook, and I know plenty of the people that might go there for a drink or two. I think we'd fit in better there than some hoity-toity university place," Nethen says, looking around at the rest of the group. "I reckon we should head to The Overlook, buy some drinks, and see who's willing to trade for information."
"Seems as good a plan as any. Let's go, while there's still a city left standing..." Eric says, as he looks back to the fires raging in the lower parts of the town and imagining all the violence taking place there at this very moment.
With a nod, Ariadne begins leading the way to the Cliffside ward, heading toward The Overlook.
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At Nethen's words, Ghil looks himself up and down, internally double-checking his fine clothes and put-together demeanor. Holy s+&@! he thinks. I've really let myself go! Instantly his clothing takes on a perfectly clean appearance; a few additional necklaces, brooches, and other baubles appearing at the same time. "Sure," he says; "we're all fit for a diiiiive bar."
Before he can seemingly make the case for heading to the student bar, where he'd be so much more comfortable--thank you very much--he lets out a yelp as a strange creature seemingly dive-bombs him from a nearby roof. "Ouch!" he yells as he begins to struggle with a tiny creature that now seems entangled in his hair.
This small animal is a petromin: a rare and unusual creature native to a desert environment. While not unknown in Varisia, petromin's are far more common in Numeria, which makes its appearance on any city streets quite unusual indeed.
"Ouch!" he repeats as the creature--some strange manner of flying squirrel, it seems--gets more and more tangled.
The two struggle for quite some time, though it becomes obvious there's nothing aggressive about the struggle. Ghil seems to instinctively recognize that as well; his exclamations are all in response to hair tugs as the two slowly begin to instinctively and intuitively aid each other in the untangling. They establish a rhythm and quite suddenly the last tiny little claw-nail is untangled; the creature begins racing up and down Ghil's body, circling front to back and back to front again.
Ghil looks up at all of you and shrugs. "I... don't know? But I think he's mine now."
What Ghil hasn't seen--but you all have--is how his appearance has changed during this creature's zooming dance around Ghil's body. In equal time, while neither's physical form has changed, both rapidly cycle through a serious of strange alterations to their appearance. Ghil grows suddenly rail-thin as his eyes take on a sunken look, while the creature gives off a ghostly glow and seems nearly transparent. Then the creature looks feral, and nearly perfectly formed, while Ghil looks as if he'd be strangely at home on the wide open plains that surround the city. Then Ghil's eyes shine with a radiant light as he gives off a faint scent of smoke with the creature suddenly surrounded by a nimbus of flame that gives of light like a candle. Dozens more strange combinations cycle through before, eventually, it stops, settling on what you see now: the creature glows a pale blue, and--its natural coloring a deep brown to its back and bright blue to its belly--shows an accurate star map within the now deeper blue of its belly. Ghil's eyes sparkle like starlight, giving him an eery otherworldliness.
The Overlook is crowded at this time of night, around 10pm in the evening when people would be heading home. At least the more honest citizens would be.
Tonight it is more crowded than usual and the people eye you warily as you enter. Relaxing when it is clear you are not rioters or out to loot.
Asa Hemrich is leaning on the bar, a heavyset man with a balding head compensated for by a heavy mustache dropping over his lip. "What can I get you folks?" He asks automatically as you make your way inside.
What are you doing now?
Ariadne watches with fascination as the small glowing...marsupial?... leaps onto Ghil, ensuing an a wild disentanglement that manifest in a dazzling array of magical phenomena. It was clear that something very unusual was happening, likely some sort of bonding process, much like she'd read about with many spellcasters of numerous traditions. "Do you feel alright?"
Once they make it to The Overlook, the magus' eyes roam the tavern, taking in each person as her mind runs through a litany of rumors, whispers and stories, permeating the streets, looking for a good source of seedy information.
"It's been a very long day, any recommendations?" she asks taking a seat at the bar.
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"You'll fit in fine Ghil," Nethen says as Ghil looks down at himself, "plenty of fancy types like to slum it at The Overlook every now and again."
"You've got a...squirrel...thing on you," Nethen says as he watches the strange creature and Ghil flicker through a series of changes in a bizarre display of synchronised magic. "Do you two know each other?" he asks as the group approaches The Overlook.
Once inside Nethen scans the room for any faces he might know - friendly or not - before heading to the bar with Ariadne. He sits with his elbows resting on the bar, looking out over the busy taproom for anyone who might be willing to trade for the information they need.
Ariadne watches with fascination as the small glowing...marsupial?... leaps onto Ghil, ensuing an a wild disentanglement that manifest in a dazzling array of magical phenomena. It was clear that something very unusual was happening, likely some sort of bonding process, much like she'd read about with many spellcasters of numerous traditions. "Do you feel alright?"
"Yes... we feel fine; pretty great, actually!" He looks at the petromin sharply. "Wait... how do I know what you feel?"
"You've got a...squirrel...thing on you," Nethen says as he watches the strange creature and Ghil flicker through a series of changes in a bizarre display of synchronised magic. "Do you two know each other?" he asks as the group approaches The Overlook.
"We do now. Very weird. His name's Leemor." He looked at the petromin again, for confirmation. "Yup, either that's really his name, or he likes it now. Leemor it is!"
Before they arrive at the Overlook, Ghil uses his Assumed Form ability to dingy up his appearance again, so he doesn't stand out so much in the darker tavern. "All work and no play makes Ghil a dull boy, amirite?"