"I don't think so. Lamm was a cruel piece of filth, but he rarely got his hands dirty directly. It's possible" she said a shrug, "but I would think someone acquainted with him to be it. He's had plenty of muscle over the years, and I can't think of one of them that wasn't a vile, vicious thug."
The squad of Hellknights is long gone by the time Shrike arrives, but she clearly sees two Hellknight cadets, one at each of the street blockades, standing at attention watching everything which transpires. A tension seems to have entered into what had been a fairly comforting space, but the citizens appear to be doing there best to ignore the Hellknights, though there are several tough looking men and women who seem to have found reasons to be nearby where the cadets stand watch.
Jenelyn has provided the location of a jeweler's she suspects may still be open which can provide an appraisal and more details of the valuable brooch. It's closer to the wealthier districts which are less likely to be affected by the turmoil or at least have a much stronger presence from law enforcement. It is closer to City Hall and the Longacre Building a few blocks north. The shop is named Eyes of the Peacock.
A few blocks...it never occurred to anyone just how far away that would feel until times like these.
Garrett nods at Pipp, and says, "Breakfast sounds good. Hopefully, by the time we finish that everyone will return and we can go get the reward before lunch!"
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The neighborhood homes all had their Devil Lanterns lit, a special kind of storm lantern built into the frame adjacent the door which can only be accessed from inside. The superstition was burning a pint of oil blessed by the Church of Asmodeus kept the imps and other devils from pestering the home and provided protection from other night ills. Dendren's faith in such devoutness ran more towards agnostic given it was difficult to believe the evil church would grant protection from its own deviltry. The oil burned with an eerie red light that did nothing to bring a sense of calm or relief. Instead it only made the surroundings appear in a perpetual bloodbath, the bizarre sinuous movements of the lantern flames queasily made the virtual blood appear dripping and oozing across all that was in its light, while the shadows it created...
His contact better show up soon, so he could leave this place.
He recalled the horrible day when he had been received a letter from his mother begging him to return to the family home in Old Korvosa. Upon arrival, a visitor had been present. A most unwelcome one. Discovering his younger sister and brother had been taken hostage by the interests this person represented had almost caused Dendren to stop breathing, but so far they had kept their promises not to harm them as long as Dendren played along to their tune. This upheaval in the city following the announcement of the king's passing, Dendren was certain they were involved.
There was a flicker of movement to one side of the alley, and the retainer hissed and drew his weapon, his hand unsteady as fear made his heart pound. A shadow appeared to dissolve itself from the darkness right next to him, and he bit off a shout while bringing his weapon around. A gloved hand grasped his wrist with practiced ease, and the retainer knew his life was over. He felt the hiss of of air as a blade settled at his neck as he stared into the eyes of a giant mantis head. It was red all over, and he knew it wasn't just the light of the Devil Lanterns that made it so. He ceased breathing and froze.
"Now, now," came the out-of-place melodious voice with which Dendren was familiar. "I thought we agreed to be civil during these exchanges." The hand gripping his wrists twisted sharply, and Dendren released the short sword to ease the pain. The red-gloved hand released him and caught the falling blade between the fore and middle fingers, clasping the sharpened edge with skill born of training Dendren knew was beyond normal. The assassin's blade pressed into the flesh of his neck.
"Do you have what was requested?" the astoundingly pleasant voice came out as a breathy whisper almost making the man forget the mortal peril he found himself.
"Ye-yes," Dendren swallowed to regain his composure. "It wasn't easy. A group of do-gooder citizens came by and almost disrupted the whole thing." He a felt a phantom twinge in chest where he was certain he'd been stabbed to death. "But, I-I was able to slip back out later."
He slowly moved his now unarmed hand to a pouch to retrieve a folded slip of paper and offered it to the terrifying woman. A sudden flick of her hand sent the short sword slicing through the air to slip directly into the dirt between two paving stones with barest of *thuds*. Dendren hadn't needed a reminder of how deadly she was, but she never shied away from making it clear each time they met. She made the offered paper vanish somewhere into her assassin's garb, but made no move to remove the blade from his throat. She remained before him, the bulbous eyes of the mantis hood staring him in the face.
"Do-gooders, you say? Tell me more," she commanded after an age of nerve-wracking silence. The blade moved away from his skin, and Dendren let out a ragged breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. Before he knew it, he was describing the group in great detail, even how he was sure one of them had killed him.
"Ah, how lucky for you," she breathed softly. "I'd almost decided this meeting would be our last, but this band of happy heroes sounds like it might be interesting. I want you to find out more about them." She tapped her blade on his neck. "Now as usual, close your eyes."
Dendren could hear his heart pounding as the part to which he most looked forward and simultaneously dreaded started. The soft rustling as she removed at least a portion of her mask. As always, her lips were soft and moist, her tongue invaded his mouth, one hand gripping the back of his head. His thoughts spun and he had to forced himself to remain still and not respond despite the inappropriate eroticism of the moment. Soon enough (too soon?) it was over, and she pulled back biting his lower lip until it slipped from between her teeth. She sighed heavily as if awakening from a dream. Her gloved fingers slowly untwisted from his hair.
"Next time, I just may slit your throat, Dendren Agavel. I keep imagining your blood on my lips and my hands. The thought of it..." Her beautiful voice trailed off into silence. There was no further sound aside from the creak of a nearby shop's hanging sign.
He counted to ten and then opened his eyes. He was alone. Nothing but the queasy light of the Devil Lanterns approached him. He clutched his stomach as it churned with the stress of the moment. I have to get back, he told himself. Start moving!
Dendren snatched up the short sword and didn't even bother to sheathe it before he started jogging through the empty streets praying he didn't run into anyone who knew him.
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Talanaliel shook off the strange feeling. It was nothing. A trick of the wind and light that this muted form couldn't see through. She looks back at Trinia as she happily sketched away and feels glad that, whatever else may be affecting her, at least Audria will have one less thing worry about. The silly girl was almost enough to get Talanaliel into a tizzy about things she should know better than her charge.
The trip back was, thankfully, uneventful, and before midnight had even passed, Talanaliel glided through the atrium and the open door to Audria's room. She settled into the nest that Audria and Eliana had made for her out of bright scraps of a dozen different fabrics and an old basket. She stifled another chuckle as she watched Audria fast asleep.
Sweet dreams, Audria. Your friends are safe.
Audria wakens, as she has learned to do over the past two years, with the sunrise. She yawns and stretches as she sits up. Talanaliel snoozed away in her nest, and Audria smiled. If anything bad had happened to Trinia, Tallyfeather would have woken her up. If anything bad had happened to Talanaliel, then the thrush wouldn't be sleeping in her nest.
She'd have to make it up to Tallyfeather. She really could be a worrywart.
Stretches, washing her face off in the basin, and an hour spent sketching as she meditated on the lessons Brother Theolan had taught her about the faith he and she shared follow. Her hands move on their own accord, her conscious thoughts on the truths shown through Shelyn's teachings and guidance. She finds herself coming to the code Brother Theolan and Talanaliel had taught her when she first started walking down her current path. The guilt she half-expected failed to come back to life as she ran through the code again and again. On the third time, the memory of one of the dreams she had, the last one, comes to her.
She looks to Talanaliel as the bird sleeps, and wonders if the young woman she saw was her true form.
Audria shakes her head at that. There is plenty enough to focus on without adding that bit of speculation to the mix. She smiles wryly at her own flightiness, but frowns as she sees what she has drawn during her morning meditation. Given how much she has been worrying about them, she's not surprised to see that she'd drawn both Eliana and Trinia. Not all of them, just the head and shoulders. Eliana's likeness smiles gently, but Trinia's grins with all of the mischief and zeal hidden not so deeply underneath.
The third face is Lina's. Audria frowns as she looks at it and studies it. There's something there, dark and brooding, and Audria's not sure if it's her own experience since meeting her fellow Lamb or if it is something that she's seen without realizing it.
She shakes her head. There is no point in worrying about it, no matter how practiced she is at it. All she can do is resolve to get to the bottom of it and find out if she is jumping at shadows.
After getting a bath and changing, she decides after noticing the state of her hair and clothes.
Dressed in a fresh robe after bathing, Audria moves with single-minded purpose. She'd found the abalone holy symbol of Shelyn in her purse while getting ready for the bath, and she made a promise to herself that she will not forget to give it to Brother Theolan again. Jenelyn points her in the right direction after seeing that the young woman has made up her mind and would see her errand through.
She finds Brother Theolan shortly after he has finished speaking with the Hellknights. Her delight at finding him blinds her to the expression on his face and she hurries up to him, the holy symbol in her hands and a smile on her face. A smile which fades as she sees the lines of worry in his face.
"Brother Theolan," she asks quietly, "is something wrong?"
Audria finds Garrett, Lina, and Pip talking after her meeting with Brother Theolan, and the mention of breakfast and lunch, along with the gurgle of her stomach, reminds her she hasn't eaten breakfast yet. As she walks up to them, Talanaliel comes flitting down a hallway to land on Audria's shoulder.
"Breakfast does sound good. I haven't eaten yet, and something smells good in the kitchens," she tells the others.
"Morning," Talanaliel cheerfully tweets, "Where's Abella and the Butcher Bird?"
"Breakfast does sound good. I haven't eaten yet, and something smells good in the kitchens," she tells the others.
"Morning," Talanaliel cheerfully tweets, "Where's Abella and the Butcher Bird?"
"I've eaten," Shrike says, from her place leaning against the wall directly next to the entryway. "But take your time."
With all the care Shrike takes to avoid the specific notice of the Hellknights, it isn’t until she’s safely made her way to the Sanctuary’s roof, she realizes they are watching the citizens and the occupants of the temple itself not the surround.
A rather unsettling turn of events to be sure.
"I don't think so. Lamm was a cruel piece of filth, but he rarely got his hands dirty directly. It's possible" she said a shrug, "but I would think someone acquainted with him to be it. He's had plenty of muscle over the years, and I can't think of one of them that wasn't a vile, vicious thug."
Shrike nods her acknowledgement and lets the matter drop.
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[ooc]Of Birds and Breakfast
Talanaliel lets out a shrill trill as she shoots up into the air when Shrike speaks up from behind her and Audria. The young woman nearly jumps out of her skin as well, but from the way she jumps away from the thrush's startled cry, it isn't the masked woman that had startled her. Talanaliel zips into a hiding place among the decoratively carved arched ceiling. She pokes her head out and glares at Shrike with all of the menace of a three ounce ball of fluff.
"Why do you keep doing that?!" Her indignant tone does little to affect the effect of the glare.
"Oh," Audria says as she turns to greet Shrike. She presses one of her hands over the ear that had been next to Talanaliel when she took off. The young woman's pained wince smooths as she gets past the surprise. "I hope Tallyfeather didn't offend with her Butcher Bird comment."
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Abella trudges in, a little late on her cue. It would be unfair to say she looks half-dead, as she looks clearly at least three quarters dead, and it would not do to slander her normal appearance.
”Why am I awake.”
She yawns and shambles into the room. She sits down and leans over the table. She droops with each passing second until she’s lying with her head nestled in her arms and her eyes closed.
Lina looked at Abella. "Agreed. My eyes would prefer to still be sleeping. That reminds me." Lina took a moment to shade her eyes with a spell before looking to the others.
"Shall we?
She finds Brother Theolan shortly after he has finished speaking with the Hellknights. Her delight at finding him blinds her to the expression on his face and she hurries up to him, the holy symbol in her hands and a smile on her face. A smile which fades as she sees the lines of worry in his face.
"Brother Theolan," she asks quietly, "is something wrong?"
The priest blinks and then gives Audria a fatherly smile. "Ah, don't you worry your pretty little head, Champion of The Eternal Rose. One of the Hellknight patrols is challenging our right to blockade the street."
He sighs and shakes his head. "Absolutely immovable regarding the law, they are. I simply asked if anyone had reported we have refused them passage."
Theolan looks a bit sheepish."I may have told a small fib and advised him all of the neighborhood had agreed to help each other do a deep cleaning and get rid of unneeded items—the fact it's blocking the street is just a bit of coincidence. Naturally, since no one has yet lodged a complaint that we have stopped their 'legal' passage through the city streets, they opted to leave some men to confirm that no such conflict occurs."
The worry briefly returns. "It's certainly a blessing the Hellknights in the city are so few and stretched out during this turmoil. I suspect they would indeed have forced our blockade disbanded and even made arrests if they could bring to bear the full force of the squadron in the city."
The shrike mask remains unmoving through the explosion of avian alarm.
"Hm." It is hard to tell what this unencouraging monosyllable might indicate. Abella's arrival preempts anything more she might have said.
Shrike drifts along behind the others if they go to find food somewhere in the temple as Pip, Garrett and Audria seemed to want.
Once they have obtained it she says, mostly to Audria, "What's with the clumpers?" While far from respectful, the slang term is actually one of the less derogatory in Korvosa for the Hellknights, due to their over-embellished plate armor and hobnailed boots. She has not missed that they seem to be watching the temple's inhabitants, not the outside street for possible criminals.
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"I suppose we shouldn't be breaking laws even if we did it to protect ourselves," Audria says. She'd broken plenty of laws in her time as one of Lamm's Lambs, and the pang of guilt she feels as she remembers that tells her that she still hasn't forgiven herself for it. "If they really want to do good, they should be arresting looters and criminals taking advantage of the chaos."
She shakes herself before holding out the holy symbol.
"Speaking of doing good, do you know whom this belongs to," she asks.
Having gotten some muffins with a little butter, fruit, and honey, Audria is much happier than she had been a few minutes before when Shrike had startled Talanaliel, as was Talanaliel herself as she nibbled at the crumbs and berries Audria had given her once the little thrush had reported on Trinia being safe and sound. The young paladin looks to the older woman and sighs. When she answers, her voice is low to keep anyone outside of the group that had raided Lamm's lair, and Pip, from overhearing.
"Brother Theolan told me that they weren't happy we'd blocked the streets to protect the Sanctuary. He said that the temple and neighbors were cleaning things out for spring, and just happened to block the streets by accident. Seems they didn't fully believe him, so they left a few of their own to make sure we don't prevent anyone from moving through."
She shrugs and takes a small bite out of her muffin.
"Probably best if we don't spread that we were more worried with people raiding us and our neighbors than about decluttering the neighborhood," she adds.
"In the meantime, I'm going to try not worrying about it and enjoy Olga's muffins while I can. Sure you don't want one," she asks, holding out one of the still warm muffins.
When she answers, her voice is low to keep anyone outside of the group that had raided Lamm's lair, and Pip, from overhearing.
"Brother Theolan told me that they weren't happy we'd blocked the streets to protect the Sanctuary. He said that the temple and neighbors were cleaning things out for spring, and just happened to block the streets by accident. Seems they didn't fully believe him, so they left a few of their own to make sure we don't prevent anyone from moving through."
She shrugs and takes a small bite out of her muffin.
"Probably best if we don't spread that we were more worried with people raiding us and our neighbors than about decluttering the neighborhood," she adds.
"In the meantime, I'm going to try not worrying about it and enjoy Olga's muffins while I can. Sure you don't want one," she asks, holding out one of the still warm muffins.
Shrike shakes her head wordlessly. She doesn't for a second believe the excuse that the Order of the Nail has true concerns about the passability of the city streets, when looters and arsonists are roaming freely and inflicting all the chaos and savagery their order was supposedly founded to eradicate. No. They're targeting the Sanctuary with selective enforcement. The question is why. A grudge against the temple itself? Hoping to catch someone they expect to come here? She needs more information. And while she doubts it has anything to do with her nighttime activities — this visit is both too immediate and not aggressive enough for that — it would still be wise to be cautious.
"Suggest anyone who uses weapons get a blackjack before we leave," she says instead of taking a muffin, even though they smell fresh-baked and wonderful. "Gives you options." She touches the handle of the sap she nicked off the greasy would-be looter yesterday: hardwood, with a wider head than its handle, tightly wrapped in layers of leather to make it less likely to break bones or draw blood. Higher quality ones were actually just thick, stitched leather around a core of lead. Still cheap and common enough. Today there seems to be some limited commerce going on around and within the temple, though the weapons at least have prudently been kept out of sight of the Hellknights. Triumph of the Korvosan mercantile spirit, she supposes.
"Meet you outside." While the others are still finishing their food, the masked elf departs the room alone. She exits the temple the same way she came in and circles around to find a convenient shadow to lurk in where she can watch the barricades without being observed. Once the others leave, she falls in step with them after about half a block.
"I need to find a fletcher. They may have some blunt arrows I can bounce off people's heads." Garret says as he heads out with Shrike.
One of the Shelynite acolytes happens to overhear Garrett's statement.
"Sir? Pardon me for eavesdropping, but if you need non-lethal weapons you should go see Von Heller. His shop's just a ways down the street. It's sure to be open. He almost never closes for anything except festivals."
Down the street, south of the Sanctuary, a swinging shop sign displays a heart and a musical note. The name painted in wonderful calligraphy states:
Whether you want to share this information is up to you. I'm not certain precisely how innocent and maidenly young Audria is meant to be and whether this store would be an embarrassing place for her.
While Audria's mother was a prostitute, she was also very young when her mother died, and Halvara would not have wanted her around the customers, so she would have been kept out of sight and mostly shielded from what was actually going on. Gaedren Lamm had plans for her, but also kept her mostly ignorant and safe from others' predations in the hopes of scoring a larger payout for a virgin's first time. Audria knows a little about the birds and the bees, but she's about as innocent as you can get for a waif from the streets.
And as for Eliana, if anything, she's even more innocent than Audria is, which is why Audria has been putting up with Dalinius' advances. (See the NPCs spoiler in her profile for more.)
TL;DR: Audria is fairly innocent and definitely still a maiden. She's going to be beet-red the entire time. If Eliana were here, she'd be even redder.
Ah well, as far as embarrassment goes, it could always be worse...
Hearing the name Von Heller, Audria blushes. She remembers overhearing whispered conversations and tittering laughter about his wares, and it wasn't until a gift from Dalinius Equinius Asinus that she learned more than the innuendo-filled euphemisms she'd heard from others. The only saving grace that day was that Eliana and Tallyfeather were the only other ones who saw what was in that unassumingly wrapped box.
The others see her getting brighter and brighter red as they approached the shop. She almost suggests trying somewhere else, but she can't bring herself to. Shrike is right, they needed something less lethal than swords and fire.
"Shelyn, please tell me Desna's smiling on me today and don't let Dalinius or Jessica be here," she mutters as she sees the sign. For a moment, she wonders who did the work the last time it had been repainted. It looks very well done. Alas, it isn't enough to keep her from worrying further about stepping through the door.
Tallyfeather, sensing Audria's trepidation and knowing its source says nothing as she rides on the young paladin's shoulder.
The sleepy Abella drags along after the others, her alertness coming in agonizingly slow. The random passerby giving a recommendation wakes up a bit more and finally getting there brings her up to her normal levels of lazy tiredness.
”House of Song and Love? With a name like that, it will either be the most tedious, twee shop in the world, or something actually bloody interesting, and there is no in-between.” She rolls her head back and forth as she thinks. ”But if they sell arrows, that is points to the latter.” She strolls in, tapping the pommel of her sword all the while.
The shrike mask tilts up slightly to examine the heart calligraphy sign with silent skepticism, but she follows those of the group who go into the shop. Better to be off the street and avoid potentially attracting notice by lingering in one place too long. Her cloaked figure remains motionless by the door while others negotiate or make purchases, though behind the flat black eyes of the mask she is looking around with interest to see what about this place could have prompted the girl's beet-red face and muttered prayer.
Audria is the last one in. Her head hangs low and her cloak's hood is pulled down as much as possible, though it does little to hide the luminescent blush coloring her cheeks.
Hiding behind everyone else however, works wonders.
Pip rides his dog and catches up as they leave. He stays near the middle of the group and chatters excitedly about the possibly pastries the shop may have.
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The door to Von Heller's House of Song and Love is quite extraordinary all things considered. It is elaborately painted in bright colors. Images of people of all races and gender are rendered in wonderful detail in poses of singing and romantic embraces. Upon entering the store, a swell of music arises softly, a mix of strings and woodwinds. All around are well organized shelves and displays of various items of curious construction: oils and potions, sashes and slings, wrappings and harnesses, articles of clothing clearly meant to be revealing, and several other less easily defined objects. Everything visible is exquisitely made, and most pieces display high artisanal craftmanship.
Unsurprisingly, in the center of the store is a marvelous arrangement of different colored roses creating a fully dimensional image of Shelyn, The Eternal Maiden. The only piece not made of roses is a replica of Whisperer of Souls she appears to be clutching in one hand.
The song continues to become more intricate reaching a crescendo. As the music soars, a figure emerges from around the side of the flowering Shelyn. The person appears to be male and moves with deliberate graceful motions like a performance. He may be draped in either robes or sashes artfully placed to be modest but still managing to define his tall, lithe figure in almost too much detail. He raises one elegantly manicured hand and looks up and away before pronouncing,
"Welcome," his voice is musical and breathy, "to Von Heller's House of Song and Love. Here you will find that like our beatific goddess, we believe nothing is more important than life, love, and art. As you may surmise, I am Von Heller. You may call me Von or Heller; whichever pleases you most."
Von Heller turns to the group lowering his hand in welcoming gesture. "What brings you all here today? Lotions and oils to warm the body and mind? Incense to enhance the intensity of experience? Specialized tools for *particular* proclivities?" As he speaks, images appear of the items he describes above his outstretched hand. He pauses and looks at everyone shrewdly. "Or perhaps you are merely looking for privacy to indulge in a group experience...We have some clean and well-appointed rooms for adventures together if you have need."
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”I don’t think this is a pastry shop .”
Abella laughs out loud in a single, unladylike burst, her grin gleeful. ”Oh I love this. And that fellow told us we could buy crossbow bolts here. I think I should like to live here now, please. Oh, Beth is going to love this place when I bring her back! Do you do apartments? No worries if you don’t yet, as I need to learn the right spell and afford the diamond dust first, but what a splendid resurrection present that would be for her!”
Abella pulls out the erotic statuette she got from Lamm’s goods. ”Do you do purchases? I picked this up off an old man recently. Oh I didn’t steal it, if you’re worried about that. It was just lying around after I killed him for being a sister-murdering, child-slaver crimelord.” She leans in and lowers her voice. ”I’ll check with you later about the ‘proclivities’ when the kiddies aren’t around. Canary there gets red at everything, and I shan’t want to make the blood rush to her head fast enough to make her pass out.” She pulls back and raises her voice back to normal levels. ”Do you actually sell any of that kind of thing? Crossbow bolts, that is? Doesn’t seem much your bailiwick, but I can see the appeal of a one-stop shop. Though beauty and bolts seems a bit more Calistrian to me.”
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Abella laughs out loud in a single, unladylike burst, her grin gleeful. ”Oh I love this. And that fellow told us we could buy crossbow bolts here. I think I should like to live here now, please. Oh, Beth is going to love this place when I bring her back! Do you do apartments? No worries if you don’t yet, as I need to learn the right spell and afford the diamond dust first, but what a splendid resurrection present that would be for her!”
Von Heller gives Abella a very polished theatrical bow. "Your words are as pleasing to my ears as sweet wine and honey are for my lips and tongue. While we don't currently have arrangements for temporary or permanent lodgings, you are welcome to make the House of Song and Love your second home. We will always have new experiences available for you to entertain yourselves or each other."
”I don’t think this is a pastry shop.”
"We are able to make requests for delectable baked goods. We place many orders for custom pastries. We have a source within The Incorruptible's most devout who is most adroit with even the most delicate of shapes."
Abella pulls out the erotic statuette she got from Lamm’s goods. ”Do you do purchases? I picked this up off an old man recently. Oh I didn’t steal it, if you’re worried about that. It was just lying around after I killed him for being a sister-murdering, child-slaver crimelord.”
Von Heller moves closer as Abella produces the highly realistic and highly scandalous ivory figurine of two entwined succubi.
"Oh, this is exquisite. I can already think of several patrons who would absolutely drool over such a piece. And, my lovely lady, we verify the source of all our pieces with psychometric means, so you have no need to protest your innocence. We will all know the truth together if a sale is to be had." He smiles pleasantly while bowing his head in Abella's direction.
She leans in and lowers her voice. ”I’ll check with you later about the ‘proclivities’ when the kiddies aren’t around. Canary there gets red at everything, and I shan’t want to make the blood rush to her head fast enough to make her pass out.”
He returns the lean-in and his voice matches Abella's. "I sense a very discerning collector in you. We cater to a wide variety of specialty interests so love can be gratified in all its pursuits. I would be most pleased to show you our finest offerings."
She pulls back and raises her voice back to normal levels. ”Do you actually sell any of that kind of thing? Crossbow bolts, that is? Doesn’t seem much your bailiwick, but I can see the appeal of a one-stop shop. Though beauty and bolts seems a bit more Calistrian to me.”
Von Heller sways into a few steps of what might be a dance. His voice takes on a reverent quality. "While we may not align with the more extreme tenets of several faiths, we Shelynites cannot disregard that not all of us appear to be designed to respond to the same stimulations and desires. Even the best of us fall to the moments of excessive titillation provided by The Lady in the Room or yearn for a more visceral experience closer akin to the teachings of The Midnight Lord's acolytes." He suddenly pirouettes elegantly. After a rotation, he stops pointing a finger in the general direction of the group. "However, consent is the key to all love, and we here at Von Heller's House of Song and Love do not abide any acts which would force your own needs upon another. So know now, that many of our specialty creations have been ensorcelled to prevent precisely such things."
He spreads his hands, "Regarding crossbow bolts or other weapon-like items, we do indeed carry such things. We have a certain clientele which enjoys the act of 'the hunt' in both name and deed as their foreplay, so many creations are made for such play-at-roles, if you will forgive the phrase."
Von Heller gestures and, out from behind the Shelyn flower topiary, two small Poppets waltz into view, spinning gracefully and dancing beautifully. Their craftmanship is astonishing as their ball joints and parts move and flow with precision.
"My sweet little stewards Tomi and Tami will take you to the showroom for our Playing Roles specialty creations. Please notify me if you require anything else."
"I don’t think this is a pastry shop."
"You just had muffins." Shrike's mutter is so quiet that it is clearly an automatic response. She examines the shelves with indifference and the rose sculpture with doubt. Is this really the kind of thing Shelyn approves of? It seems more suited to Calistria or that angel Aylos swears by.
However, when the flamboyant and barely dressed man appears and begins speaking, she shifts slightly to put herself more fully between him and Audria, and her posture goes from relaxed to tense. By the time he suggests they might be looking for a 'group experience' it is indefinably but unmistakably hostile, and does not improve thereafter. She maintains her cold silence throughout his conversation with Abella.
"My sweet little stewards Tomi and Tami will take you to the showroom for our Playing Roles specialty creations. Please notify me if you require anything else."
Shrike doesn't move. "Don't need any ghoulish 'toys.' Especially not magicked ones. We need actual weapons. For self-defense without killing." Her croaking voice is especially unpleasant and unmusical now, in a way it was not when speaking to Pip.
Merula would be polite and even sweet to this man. She would play along, giggle maybe, pretend to blush but be intrigued, follow the poppets as ordered. She would follow the rules of the game as it is played in her world, as she has done many times.
Lania has never been gladder of the shrike's mask. There is nothing more freeing than not having to pretend.
Von Heller cocks his head to one side.
"You may misunderstand what we do here, I believe. Shelyn believes in the expression of love as art and art as love. Love leads us to embrace all and find beauty both within and without. And sometimes that leads us to embrace...one another. Or more."
He raises hands dramatically while lifting his chin and closing his eyes. "Von Heller's House of Song and Love is all about helping even the most pedestrian or specialized experience that making love can be art. If we condemn those with specific tastes, we encourage them to lash out and be defeated. We take away their love and leave only a hollow space too readily replaced by the dark sides of lust and obsession."
Von Heller again spreads his hands. "While I will say this is not the merchandise for harming others, you speak of violence but desire not to kill. All of our creations for those who enjoy mock battles and enjoyment of a chase for their turn at love are precisely that: non-lethal."
Then Von Heller makes a dismissive gesture at Shrike. "Obviously to what end you use our creations is your choice, but if it is not our services you seek then please leave as such an attitude will only disrupt and discourage those who are in dire need of the enlightenment we can provide."
Pip hadn't been to many big cities, but he was beginning to understand what this new place was all about. He began to turn red and he was speechless for the first time since, well, since a long time ago.
He remembered Shrike wanted to pick up some special equipment, and he thought it was to avoid harming enemy combatants, but then he began to wonder if the motivations of coming here were different.
He looks at Abella and Shrike in turn and begins to wonder if they were here for a short diversion. He admitted a short diversion at this place was not on his mind until.....
"Tell me more about these pastries. Can you do butter cream and strawberries??"
Pip had decided to fit in with this new group of friends, he was just not sure how much he wanted to fit in at this new place.
Audria finds herself rather mixed up. Surprise at learning that Olga does commissions for Von Heller wars with bewilderment at Pip's apparent confectionary fixation, as her gratitude at Shrike interposing herself between the paladin and Von Heller is swiftly eroded by alarm at the tone of voice she hears coming from Shrike and the tone of voice Von Heller uses on masked woman.
Von Heller, as eccentric as he is, is still a respected member of Shelyn's following here in Korvosa, even if she, personally, tries to avoid him as much as she can. Audria is well aware how strained things could get if others start to see Shrike as a judgmental troublemaker.
"S-sorry, Mister Von Heller," Audria says, the words coming out on top of one another in a barely intelligible mess as she pokes her head around Shrike's body and reaches out to grab the masked woman's arm to guide her our of the store. "The past two days have been a bit much for our nerves. We meant no harm, honest!"
She then tries to, as gently but firmly as possible, lead Shrike outside of the store. She can feel her scalp growing warm and tingling strangely as the stress from the past few days catches up with her and adds to the strain she feels from this confrontation between one of her companions and someone the followers of Shelyn respect.
Lina had been quiet once they had left the temple, and along their trek through the streets of Korvosa. And her eyes, they never stopped moving. The city, in disarray. Her home, for what it was, was burning. Between the Hellknights, the city guards, and the marines, she knew that the poor were in for a worse time than they had ever endured before, and all of it tugged at her soul. As the store front for Von Heller's House of Song and Love came into view, she blanched.
As they entered, she steeled herself against past memories. She had been here before. Only as an errand girl, and as a tiny waif of a girl before she had blossomed into womanhood. The man himself was unlikely to remember her. He had probably seen his fair share of those picking up and dropping off packages over the years, but her memories weren't of the man himself so much as the garments he offered. Lamm had had a particular fondness for covering in her pretty silks and other things, but he was gone now, dead by their actions. She swallowed hard, shoving those memories down deep and stepped through the door.
She froze for a moment. Much had changed in the store, but it still had the same feel she remembered. She pushed herself forward and forced out a smile. Slowly, she walked the displays and found it easier to smile with each step.
Mustering up more resolve than she thought she possessed, she finally approached the merchant himself. "Scarves. I'm looking for scarves. For dancing, something strong as well. Maybe something with a rose pattern?"
Even feeling the slight tug on her arm, Shrike remains where she is for a moment.
"So many pretty words to hide the same old ugliness." The grating voice is lower in volume, but if anything, colder and flatter than before.
She lets Audria lead her out of the shop and into the alley. There she can put a wall at her back and be still. Stillness of mind is harder to attain.
Lamm is dead. The message is sent. So why will this rage not die?
The mask tilts at Audria. The croak sounds resigned, not menacing. "Don't tell me. He gives a lot of money to the temple."
"So what if he does," Audria snaps. "There was no reason to talk to him like that, and take off the mask, Merula. No one will see us here, and I've already seen your face."
The young looks up at Shrike, her jaw clenched. Her cheeks are still red, but no longer just from embarrassment. She hadn't made the connection at the time, but Audria is certain that it's Merula underneath that mask. Eliana and Audria had performed in a couple of small productions with her last year. It tool Audria longer than she cares to admit to put things together, but she also knows that there were other things on her mind at the time that kept her from wondering why Merula wears the mask.
She wonders now as she stands there waiting for Merula to show her face.
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She makes no move to take the mask off, but she doesn't deny it, either. Beyond the differences in dress and speech, Shrike is clearly not fully human, while Audria could have sworn that Merula was. She even moves differently: there is no dancer's elegant excess in her movements, just a hunter's precision. And yet, the hair and height match, and some quality not of motion but of stillness. And how many women in Korvosa could have that same face, those same colorless ice eyes, like a ghost still living?
Abella truly has difficulty understanding Shrike’s strong reaction to this place, but she finds it more curious than alarming. Most of her life in Nidal has left Abella with a fondness for Shelyn that arises less because she actually cares about goodness and love and all that and more because the Eternal Rose’s faith always had a frisson of scandal and rebellion in a Kuthite theocracy that it lacks in the rest of the world. ”Well then! Let’s see about getting some blackjacks for all us saps. Take it out of the price of the statue, along with any scarves which Thrush desires. I do quite like this little statue, but alas, she is worth a great deal, I know. 500 gold, I believe.”
Garrett keeps an eye on the negotiations but lets those more comfortable being in the spotlight take the lead.
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Audria flinches as if Merula had struck her as the taller woman compares Von Heller to the followers of Zon Kuthon. It brought back the still fresh memory of blood on her hands from both Giggles' and Lamm's deaths, and older memories from before her time in Gadren Lamm's "care" when she still had her mother. Memories of bruises and her mother drinking herself into a stupor and crying herself to sleep. Emotions already raw from the past few days are inflamed by confusion, anger, and uncertainty rolling though her mind as she tries to sort out her own feelings.
"How's what he does any different from what you're doing," she asks. "Why the mask Merula? I saw how much you cared for one of the boys we found, Isi, right? I've meet you before and you weren't this-- harsh, almost heartless. Or am I wrong? Is this the real you, and the kindness and the face you showed me and Eliana the sugarcoating?"
Talanaliel looks from Audria to Merula, her inhuman face showing clear distress despite that handicap. As angry as Audria is, it is only as powerful as the emotions fueling that anger. Tears well up in the young paladin's eyes. It is too much, just far too much for her to take without something breaking through.
Hypocrite!
She can hear Lamm's voice roaring in her head as she realizes why she is so upset. Whatever face was Merula's true one, she still would have lied to Audria. It shouldn't have mattered, especially after her own fib when first meeting the others at Zellara's, but it does. Oh, how it does matter, and that gives the late Lamm's charge a far more potent and damning bite that only inflamed her emotions further.
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...Could be heartless. Pitiless. She takes the tiniest breath, shaken by the reflection she sees in the girl's over-bright, accusing eyes. Could pay blood for blood, and evil unto evil, as is her birthright even if she never once prays to the Unquenchable Flame. I could have used a plain mask and a wig. Or put away the shrike mask the night Lamm died, like I meant to. Used something new.
The truth is I don't want to go back to just being Merula. Sweet and pretty and pliable. I want to find Pilts Swastel and put a spear through his guts and leave his body swinging from it. I want to come through the windows of the noblemen that go to his shows and buy his girls, and do the same to them on some dark night. It's them that need to be ended, and made a warning to others like them. Not that preening peacock, who is probably harmless even if his ideas aren't. But I didn't even hurt him. Maybe she still means Lamm. Maybe Abella was right, and she really just doesn't know the difference yet between good things and bad things.
She shakes her head again, searching for the right words. "...There is no 'real' anyone. We are what we do. Or fail to do. That's all." It is the gentlest and least affected Audria has heard Shrike sound except when speaking Elven to the boy — and the closest she has sounded to Merula, who had aped the accents and diction of nobility, as so many professional performers learn to do. "And violence done to protect others from harm isn't the same as violence done for pleasure or power or profit."
This is it, the thing burning me still. In the end, it was so easy. All that unnecessary pain and all those wasted lives, when a handful of people willing and able to kill him could have stopped Lamm years ago.
And there are so many Lamms left in this city.
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"Tell me more about these pastries. Can you do butter cream and strawberries??"
Von Heller replies, "I imagine most pastries and other baked goods would be available. The limit would be what's in season and the skill of the chef, naturally." He closes one eye and cocks his head at the halfling, a bemused smile on his lips. "Though we aren't ourselves a bakery, so if it is just a sweet confection you desire, we would suggest visiting the source directly. If you ask at the Sanctuary of Shelyn, I'm certain you will be given the names of those whose skills we employ."
Mustering up more resolve than she thought she possessed, she finally approached the merchant himself. "Scarves. I'm looking for scarves. For dancing, something strong as well. Maybe something with a rose pattern?"
Von Heller turns in place and takes a dancing step to one side while making a sweeping gesture to indicate a rack and some shelves in one side of the room. "These would be all the sashes and stoles we offer. Roses are very popular with many of our patrons, so you should find quite a few options for any style."
”Well then! Let’s see about getting some blackjacks for all us saps. Take it out of the price of the statue, along with any scarves which Thrush desires. I do quite like this little statue, but alas, she is worth a great deal, I know. 500 gold, I believe.”
"I would be happy to have your piece evaluated by my expert. Would one of your party care to escort it to the Appraiser? I would never dare expect you to allow it out of your sight."
Then Von Heller makes another gesture, and the waltzing poppets cease their dance and bow to Abella.
"This way, please," says Tomi while wearing a beautiful tuxedo.
"That way, kindly," says Tami looking splendid in a beautiful dress made to look like an upside down rose.
They both gesture to a staircase off to the side leading down. They lead the way down, hopping from stair to stair. Abella (and any others who choose to accompany her) discovers the lower level is much larger than the main storefront with several showrooms separated by walls with wide openings and no doors. Tomi and Tami proceed down a central path and enter into one filled with weapons of all kinds; many look very exotic and valuable. On closer inspection, most of them turn out to be enhanced theater props and only look expensive due to exquisite painting and construction. Many are crafted into a variety of bewildering shapes which would make the young Audria's face redefine the word crimson, and they would definitely draw quite the scandalous gasp if equipped and carried before polite company. Actually, even rougher company might be tongue-tied over a few of them.
Despite this, to those familiar with the weapons these replicas represent, it is evident that some of them can be used for the very purpose the party desires. If the blunted arrows have round heart-shaped heads or the cudgel has a slightly phallic end, many of them look fully functional. There is even a section for padded sleeves with different embroidered designs to cover the ends of some of the thicker or harder replicas to help reduce their impact.
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The anger disappears like the flame of a candle being snuffed by a chill winter gust. Audria, for the first time, realizes how much taller Shrike is than she is, and backs away from the masked woman and into the wall of the alley before sliding down it under her withering gaze. She may see her reflection in Audria's eyes, eyes shadowed by loose and looping bangs, but Audria doesn't see her there. She sees Lamm, looming over her and sneering down at her like he did over two years ago.
Like he did just before he had her beaten nearly to death.
Audria sits there, listening to Shrike flay her conscious with soft, whispering words. The masked woman lays it out so even Audria understands. Shame and guilt join the fear, shearing through the thin threads of self-confidence she was beginning to mend after coming to terms with what happened at the Fishery. By the end of it, Audria's left curled into a ball and shaking. The damning reflection in Audria's eyes that Shrike saw is gone now, replaced the the crown of strawberry blonde hair that spills over Audria's shoulders and arms and pools around her.
All the while, Audria hears Lamm's voice in her head.
"You are nothin without me."
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Grand. You made the abused sixteen-year-old former Lamb cry. So that's what you've done today, mayfly. Great job. A real credit to your training.
"Audria..." She moves to one side, so she isn't backing the girl into the wall, and squats down on her heels next to her. "Not gonna hit you, girl. Not ever. So what's this about?"
She reaches out as though to put a hand on the girl's back, but then hesitates and withdraws it. Instead she takes a scrap of cloth from her pouch and holds it out halfway between them in offering. It is just a rag, of the kind used to wipe off a dagger before sheathing it, but it is clean.
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Talanaliel, who'd taken off when Audria had run into the wall, looks on from her new perch. Her expression is hard to read, being a bird's, but the anger she feels is clear enough, at least until Shrike sits down on her heels beside Audria.
Audria lifts her head and looks at Shrike from behind a curtain of hair. She hiccups as she parts it, its lengthening strands flowing over her fingers and threatening to cover her eyes again.
"I-I saw him," she answers. "He loomed over me like you did the day he had me beat and left me for dead."
She grimaces as her hair falls back over her face and she tries using both hands to move it out of the way. It continues to pile up around her, the folding mounds of strawberry blonde covering her boots and making her look like a strange haystack.
"Eliana, Trinia and Brother Theolan are the closest I have to family. I... I can't imagine what it must have been like for you," she says after pulling enough of her hair out of the way to at least see and speak clearly. "Eliana and I had no where to go, or so we thought. Eliana's parents were killed by a gang when they didn't pay up, and I... Well, I don't think anyone wanted me even before my mom died. I was starving, and Lamm offered me a warm bead and a hot meal. Never saw any of either, and he was always told me I was nothing without him, too stupid to be own my own."
She gives a harsh, sarcastic chuckle.
"He-- *hic* He was probably right about that, too," she says with a heartbreakingly weak smile before she buries her head back into her knees. The ever-lengthening strands of her hair spill over them and cover her legs as she sobs.
"I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so stupid. I'm sorry!" She weeps as the apologies come spilling out.
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Her spine chills and the hair stands up on the back of her own neck. Despite knowing before, thanks to the talking thrush, that the girl must be Shelyn's chosen in some way, this is the most overt magic Audria has yet shown in her own self. But there is no guarantee it is harmless. Aren't there stories of people who transform into bestial alternate personalities when overwhelmed by strong emotion?
When it appears that Audria isn't in the process of turning into a werewolf or some other monster, Shrike slowly and warily withdraws the hand holding out the rag, in much the manner of a cat hoping not to be observed as it withdraws into a bush. She listens without speaking, ignoring the useless stabs of guilt and sorrow, and waits for several heartbeats after Audria falls silent, to be sure no more words are trying to emerge through her tears. If the tender sympathy she has undoubtedly received from Shelyn's clergy has not helped the girl, receiving it from her certainly will not either.
"But he was lying." Her voice is flat, matter-of-fact, and steely with conviction. "You just said it. Everything he ever told you was a lie to make you do what he wanted. Still believing him now is what he would want. And nothing would eat his rotten soul up in the Abyss like knowing you did the exact opposite."
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It takes a few minutes for Audria to cry herself out. As she calms, the rate at which her hair grows also lessens until it stops altogether. By that time, she's covered by a pile of strawberry blonde locks.
The hair-pile turns to look at Shrike as she begins to talk, and Audria listens. Silence settles between the two of them as the young paladin thinks about what Shrike told her. Bartholomew had told her the best revenge is living well, once. She knows she is loved, and that she isn't worthless or stupid, at least in her head, but two years is little when measured against more than a decade of abuse and neglect when it comes to the heart.
"I-- I want to believe you," Audria says slowly. "It's just-- I-- I try. I really do try, and anytime I feel like I'm getting better, he's right there, telling me that I'm nothing, that I'm a hypocrite, or that I'm not-- not worth the trouble."
After the purchases are complete , the group heads off towards the closest Korvosan guard station. Soon they enter a plaza which appears to be on the edge of a riot in progress where a mob of thugs wielding shovels, chair-legs, and other club-like weapons surround a clean-shaven young man dressed in rather fine clothes suggesting he's most likely a 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?”
It is clear the mob intends violence towards the young man who raises his hands to defend himself with a frightened expression.
Round 1 begins
Audria takes off running as the crowd threatens to turn ugly. Talanaliel flits along the same path, happy to see Audria at least mostly back to normal even if she she's rushing into danger.
"What are you doing," she demands as she reaches the edge of the crowd. Her robes and the silver holy symbol mark her as a minor member of Shelyn's clergy "Why are are you threatening this man? What has he done?"
Talanaliel circles overhead, keeping an eye on Audria and the crowd.
Audria's sudden appearance with the trappings of a warrior blessed of Shelyn rattles the crowd.
"Uh, uh...we were just...ah," the woman starts falteringly.
"Helping this man steer clear of the riot over there," another man blurts out not meeting Audria's eyes. Several others mutter in agreement and starts to drift away.
The young man sees the mob distracted and turns and bolts from the plaza. The mob's members follow suit in the opposite direction as soon as they can.
After the brief encounter with the mob at the edge of a riot area, the party takes a few sidestreets to avoid the chaos. They reach the guard station to discover it is shut up under lockdown. Similar to the area around the Sanctuary of Shelyn, there is a barricade around the precint, but this one looks well engineered and designed for just what it appears to be, a temporary and movable blockade.
From behind a barred slit, a member of guard calls out, "Halt! State your business!" Everyone can see a few soldiers aiming crossbows from along the top of the barricade.