Shane follows the others as well.
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Peeking into the open space past the hallway, the manor's receiving hall, shows a scene of massacre. Upon the marble floor and heaped in the corners lie more than a dozen corpses, each clad in garish outfits of sequined velvet, revealing silk, and colorful feathers. Masks of all shapes and sizes - each competing with the last in terms of elaborate exquisiteness - adorn the dead. In several cases, though, these fanciful adornments have fallen away, revealing withered flesh covered in the telltale blisters of blood veil. Most horrifyingly, upon a blood-slick space cleared at the room’s center sway three couples, jerking like hellish dancers, all obviously dead.
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As soon as he spots the zombies, Elric unleashes another flurry of arrows. Each shot finds its mark with deadly accuracy, slamming into the head of the undead dancers.
While the arrows themselves inflict less damage than they would have against living targets, the holy balm coating their tips sizzle and issue a sickly odor of incense and embalming fluids as it burns the necrotic flesh.
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Audria pushes the horror and grief she feels out of her mind as she sees the undead mockery. Those she will have to face later. For now, she focuses on dealing with the threat they face now. Her first strike is devastatingly powerful while her follow up is a bit clumsy.
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Shrike cannot help but to scan the masked and silent dead for a moment, looking vainly for familiarity in the shapes of bodies and limbs. What she would do if she found Ruan here, she doesn't know. After half a breath in which a flight of Elric's holy arrows mercifully end the unlives of two 'dancers' simultaneously and Audria's glaive lashes out in a shorter and then a longer lunge, she surges forward with more haste than before. The movement takes her ducking under its haft and whirling directly past the blond undead nobleman, close enough to smell the fading remnants of the fougère pomade he had used in his hair three days ago under all the blood and rot. Her blade flashes out for his neck almost as an afterthought, and then sweeps down and around for the third noblewoman.
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Pava weaves through the room, faster than the undead can react. Planting themself in the center of the room, they beckon their foes on while the zombie they carved up along the way collapses behind them.
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The undead nobles are slow to disentangle themselves from their dance, and they are swiftly cut down.
Suddenly, a small bolt zips from somewhere high up to strike Elric, finding a gap in his armor and sinking deep into his flesh.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. I spent so long posing them just so and look what you've done."
A blonde elf woman is lying on the floor of the upper gallery, leisurely reloading her hand crossbow. She is wearing a red and gold harlequin costume matching her long braid and garish lipstick that makes her mouth look unsettlingly wide as she grins.
She finishes reloading, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully as she points her finger at everyone in turn. "One little piggy, two little piggies..."
The bolt strikes Audria's breastplate and shatters. "Ack!" The elven woman springs to her feet with an impressive display of acrobatic agility. "Oh well, more fun this way. I was getting so. BORED!"
Shrike's head jerks up at the sound of the crossbow bolt's impact, her eyes scanning for its source. Blonde. Braid. Dressed like a child or a cracknob—
"You." The croak drops to a grating hiss. "Where's your puppetmaster."
She surges up the stairs to the second floor two at a time, sheathing the long curved sword and spinning the spear out of its sling into her grip as she goes.
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"Ugh...I'm hit...Bad...Should have take your advice, Kandru....I'm...that was no ordinary bolt." Elric mutters, as he stumbles backwards, obviously injured and in distress.
In a daze, he examines the bolt sticking out of his armor, just below the armpit. The shot slipped under his raised bow arm, and he can feel the shaft vibrate in time with his heartbeat. This is indeed bad.
He barely registers Shrike's outburst as the masked vigilante springs forward. "Friend of yours, Shrike?" he mutters, as he tries to stop the room from spinning.
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Seeing Elric take a grievous wound and hearing the elven woman take credit for the gruesome desecration of the dead and the blasphemy against her goddess ignites the flames of fury within Audria's eyes. Holy fire smolders as she races past Shrike and up onto the balcony and calls out to Kandru.
"Kandru, patch him up! I'll make sure she has something else to worry about," she says, her voice cold and hard.
As Audria starts to round the last corner between her and the woman who's responsible for this horror, she undoes the clasp on her cloak and lets it fall to the ground so that her holy symbol is clear to see, glittering as it hangs from her neck. She holds her glaive out in one hand, the blade aimed at the elf's heart.
"For this blasphemy that you have committed, The Eternal Rose has judged you and found you wanting," she says as celestial runes begin to burn over her armor and along the head and haft of her glaive. Her hair turns white and shimmers with holy fire as her eyes blaze with brilliant iridescence. "Surrender or face Shelyn's wrath!"
"Friend of yours, Shrike?" he mutters, as he tries to stop the room from spinning.
Shrike dashes down the gallery above with the curious spear held before her, making her deadly intent clear. The world has narrowed to the garishly made-up face of the quarry she has been hunting through old sightings and frightened whispers for weeks, and she does not hear Elric's murmur.
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Hissing an Infernal curse under her breath as Elric is hit, Kandru moves into the room after the others, sticking close to the entryway as she tries to position the wall of the alcove between her and the shooter. "Here, Sergeant - let me help." Releasing her grip on her crossbow with one hand, she touches the golden key around her neck, muttering a prayer to Abadar, before reaching out towards his wound, which rapidly scabs over as the crossbow quarrel is pushed out by an unseen force. "O Master of the First Vault, heal this man, that the fullness of his years and the fullness of his coinpurse may bear silent testament to your graciousness..."
Her work done, she presses her back against the wall to minimize the profile she presents to the unknown shooter, peering cautiously around the dividing wall to call out to the woman on the balcony. "You are currently in active violation of six counts of Korvosan Legal Code Book Two Chapter Nine Section C Subsection Three Paragraph Eleven, one count of 2-9-C-III-12, at least thirty counts of 2-8-F-VII-2..." She ducks back behind her cover as the woman's crossbow swivels in her direction. "...and I'm sure that crossbow is not regulation-conformant! Throw down your weapons immediately and take no action that can be perceived as hostile!"
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Pava hustles up the stairs, flinging themself across the landing to trap the murderous harlequin!
"Bit rude not to introduce yourself there chit," Pava continues with a razor smile. "Par exemple, I'm Pava of Old Korvosa, and this is most certainly my pleasure."
"Bit rude not to introduce yourself there chit," Pava continues with a razor smile. "Par exemple, I'm Pava of Old Korvosa, and this is most certainly my pleasure."
"Think I'll settle for being rude." Shane says and moves hoping to be overlooked while more intimidating quarry abound.
Well shane ole boy you've wasted one spell, let's see what holding back gets you while you focus on getting over there. Too soon for Fly.
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The elf giggles happily as Shrike and Pava close in. "Oh my, look at you! This is better than the circus!" She smirks. "Well, almost."
With a twist of her body, she propels herself through the gap in the bannister, hooking one hand over the edge of the floor and flipping in the air as she lands on the floor below.
She salutes Shrike with two fingers to her temple. "My master? My darling genius, my wubsy-lubsy Rolth? Wouldn't you like to know." The elf puts a finger to her lips, pouting. "Actually, I would like to know as well, he promised to come back for me, but he hasn't shown up yet." She then looks up at Audria. "Shelyn's wrath? Shelyn?? Bwahahahaha!"
Turning on one heel, she fixes Shane with an admonishing look. "And where are you going? Don't you see the party is here? Tsk. Boring." She pulls out a wand as she takes a step back.
A searing beam of white fire shoots from the wand, striking Shane fully in the chest.
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Pava purses their lips, trying not to laugh as they dive over the side right after her. "She's got a bit of a point there, Odds."
But their voice is grim again by the time they land. "If she's with Lamm she doesn't escape, not even into death."
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Shane grabs his wounded flesh as it sears, "I was on my way be up in a bit to feed you arcane destruction, don't be so impatient"
That. HURT. Mental note. Kill her. Take wand for yourself.
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Audria ignores the elf's taunts. Now that the offer of mercy was out there, she can attack with a clear conscience, and she doubts the vile necromancer is expecting one of the more heavily armed members of the party to be agile enough to attempt taking the quick way down. She steps back a couple of paces as she adjusts her grip on her glaive before running to vault the rail.
She lands in a roll that sees her back on her feet and attacking in the blink of an eye.
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The display of acrobatics gives Shrike a half-second's pause. She's good. Better than me, maybe even better than Ivy and Gisela.
But I'd be smart enough to run.
And she, too, vaults over the banister in pursuit without hesitation. Cloak streaming above her, Shrike dives from directly above the forsaken elf into a crouching sideways tuck-and-roll on one shoulder that brings her up again behind the woman with her spear still out and ready. Mid-roll, she lashes out with her spike-mailed fist for the back of one harlequin-red-and-gold knee.
She keeps moving far enough to get momentum on the spear, then turns back and sends its point and oddly angled side blades hissing forward while Pava's fist is providing a distraction.
The croak is very flat. "What was that about Shelyn."
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A searing beam of white fire shoots from the wand, striking Shane fully in the chest.
Relief flows through Elric as the positive energy knits most of his wounds. The crossbow bolt drops to the floor with a clatter as it is pushed out by his healing flesh. With a wet cough, he clears his throat, wiping away a bit of bright pink foam from his mouth.
That was in my lung. If Kandru hadn't healed me, I could have bled out in minutes. Better be more careful. he thinks to himself as he nocks another balm-coated arrow.
"Thank you, Justicar. Remind me to make a suitable donation to the coffers of your temple when this is over."
His senses and balance still affected, he shuffles forward and scans the room for threats, just in time to see Pava, Audria and Shrike dispatch the agile elf in a awe-inspiring display of acrobatics and martial skill.
"Nice work. Stay alert, we have not yet dispatched all the zombies that Audria detected. Doubt this one will give us any more trouble. Might need a bandage to keep her from bleeding out. That was a very impressive slash, Audria."
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Pava follows hot on the heels of the deranged harlequin woman, punching her in the face with a resounding crack!. She coughs and doubles over, blood streaming from her broken nose.
"Owwwwww! Dat waz my favourid noz!" Her voice is muffled and nasal.
Audria's overhead swing with her glaive catches the elf by surprise and almost disembowels her. She manages to evade Shrike's cestus strike, but Thorn's point catches her in the chest and sends her tumbling to the ground.
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With the elf down, the light in Audria's eyes fades and the holy fire wreathing her hair and arms flickers out. As much as a part of her wants to leave this one to bleed out, she knows that the elf might be the only lead they have for finding those likely to be involved with the Blood Veil pandemic. She sighs and moves to make sure that the horrid woman won't bleed out while she makes sure there won't be any surprises left for the elf to pull.
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Grateful for the mirror image doing it's job Shane says "She has a large amount of equipment, that wand looked like it had a great deal of power behind it." He detected magic to see what of her gear might be most dangerous as he joined the others.
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His head cleared, Elric moves up and helps Audria administer first aid.
”Mighty and merciful. Shelyn chooses her champions well,” he says with a smile, laying his hand on hers as he applies pressure until she can bandage the bleeding wound.
Unfortunately, even their combined efforts is not enough to staunch the flow of blood.
”We need a bit more help here. We want her to live to answer questions and face justice.”
Shrike first kicks away the wicked little hand crossbow and wand where they have fallen from the blonde elf's hands to the bloodstained marble floor, and does the same to any other visible weapons. Then she crouches, laying her spear down and pulling out a clean weapon-rag as a makeshift wound pad. She stuffs it roughly against the wound and applies real pressure to it on top of Audria and Elric's joined hands with complete disregard for the tender moment.
"Only 'justice' for her is death. Following in Lamm's footsteps if she raised these." She had explained what little she knew of 'Josie' to everyone else a few weeks ago. But for Kandru's benefit as well as the group's, she turns her head and adds, "Rolth Lamm's a necromancer. Think he's behind the blood veil. Never seen him, but witnesses say he's got pale and blotchy skin. Lots of scars on his hands and face. Unkempt and patchy brown hair. Gone in some places but not like normal baldness. Thick leather robes with lots of pockets and tools. She might not know exactly where he is. But she'll know how to find him."
From the blonde elf's words, their relationship might be more bizarre than Shrike had previously understood. She had been assuming servitude or apprenticeship, the way Lamm seemed to attract the loyalty of the equally mad derro. Not love — if it was love, instead of mockery. She couldn't tell.
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Audria blushes as Elric puts his hand over hers, but otherwise keeps her emotions in check as she tries to keep the elf from bleeding out. While she appreciates the effort, Shrike's help is more effective and Audria breathes a sigh of relief as she realizes that she's managed to keep their one lead from dying.
"We should probably take care of the rest of the undead before we try to get anything out of her," the paladin says. "Kandru? Shrike? Can you help me strip her? I don't want her pulling out any nasty surprises on us."
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"Might be I was too hard on your poet, Mme. Lostling. If the bloody jester here isn't driven by madness, I don't know that I want to understand further." Pava briskly and without undue gentleness, goes through the sniper's belongings, disarming of her of everything that seems like tools or talismans. "Acadamae, want to turn a mage eye on what she's carrying? Make sure I don't miss something important?"
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If her earlier display of peerless acrobatics and her exquisite aim with the hand crossbow didn't already hint at the elf being no ordinary adversary, her gear dispels all doubt. Shane can discern quite a few magical items that she is wearing or carrying, including several wands. And clearly she has gone through the pockets and purses of the dead nobles and relieved them of their most valuable items.
Leaving the elf unconscious and without any weapons or arcane implements at hand, the party sweeps the rest of the manor, destroying all remaining undead. The elf has spent much time and effort animating and posing them; in the salon to the side of the main hall two undead nobles wearing matching lion and lioness masks sit before the empty fireplace, with a third zombie dressed as a peacock and holding a silver serving tray attending them. In the recital hall, a zombie dressed as a blue-winged angel strums at a large, standing harp. Four costumed corpses - a sea serpent, a castle tower, a swan, and a blue skeleton - look on from chairs, posed in attitudes ranging from rapt attention to bored disinterest.
Upstairs, finely framed works of art cover the walls of the gallery, looking down upon the hall below. Great windows look out to the west and south, and an alcove to the east is set with chairs for musicians. In mockery of the room's beauty, several costumed corpses are positioned about the hall, some posed like ghastly statues while others are rigged to look like contemplative critics. Three zombies dressed in flashy metallic costumes wander aimlessly through the room, pantomiming appreciation and criticism of the paintings of Korvosan cityscapes and Carowyn portraits on the walls. Periodically, a zombie stumbles over one of the dozen dead bodies on the floor here. In the master bedroom, an undead Olauren Carowyn stands in the center of the room dressed as a Galtan queen, her sprawling pearl-studded gown flowing around her and her elaborate, powdered wig nearly brushing the ceiling. A second zombie - dressed as a Qadiran princess - attends her.
After checking both the ground floor and the upper floor, there are two notable absences - Ruan Mirukova, and Ausio Carowyn, the master of the house.
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"Oh this is ...very nice. She was equipped, I don't know by whom, with such delights as several wands: One that animates the dead, another that bestows feline like agility for a time, another that shapes corpses, and... of course the last that scorched my duplicate. I admit, I wouldn't mind this last one for myself but I'll try not to be greedy," Shane tries not to think of the lives lost here by distracting himself with the magic present. He wonders if he sounds ruthless, greedy, or both? "The studied leather has a glammer upon it, the hand-crossbow minor magic though the screaming quarrels left have some improvement on that. Magic potions include Two of invisibility and... a real prize in these times, one that removes disease. I suggest we keep that in reserve for ourselves or a loved one."
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After taking down the elf, Josie, seeing all of the dead, the mockery of life, and the macabre staging, Audria feels drained. People who's one crime was to make a poor decision had been killed, and there had been no reason for it that she could see. After counting the dead, Audria finds Elric.
"Are you feeling alright? It--it looked like you were hurting a lot after you got hit by that bolt," she says quietly.
Whatever his answer, she turns to what to do next.
"Given how cruel and twisted that elf seems, we should make sure there are not any nasty surprises waiting in the cellar or in the servants' quarters. After that, we'll need to tend to the dead and make sure their kin have some closure. At least we caught their murderer."
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Shrike puts any heavy or not-immediately-claimed items from the elf woman she has been thinking of as 'Josie' in the magical haversack, to be distributed or sold at a later date. That pesh is Josie's apparent drug of choice does not surprise her; the elf's mania had not seemed typical of the heavy-eyed shiver addicts she has known. Those doses go in her pack with the other things. Only the wand that makes someone more graceful seems to catch her interest in particular, and as she has no idea how to make its magic happen, she leaves all the wands to Shane.
As the search progresses through the rest of the first two floors of the house and finds no trace of the young Varisian human musician she said would be carrying an ocarina, Shrike's movements grow more abrupt when they happen, and her stillnesses more tightly controlled when they do not. At Audria's suggestion of searching the cellar and servants' quarters, she nods silently.
Just in case the elven acrobat-necromancer wakes while they are gone, or on the slim chance Lamm or other allies might come for her, she hoists the woman's slight, unconscious weight bridal-style and carries it down with them to the cellar under the kitchen. She lays her burden down quietly and without haste at the bottom of the stairs, listens through and examines the door there, and tries it or picks its lock as necessary. If picking the lock is needed, she takes off her spiked metal hand protector first, as she did when unjamming the back door into the house.
The most potent smell that had wafted up from those stairs had been old wine or perhaps beer, so she hopes there will not be more undead behind the door. Nevertheless, before opening it, she puts the cestus back on, draws her long curving blade again, waits for everyone be ready, and counts down on her fingers from three before pushing open the door of the wine cellar.
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After taking down the elf, Josie, seeing all of the dead, the mockery of life, and the macabre staging, Audria feels drained. People who's one crime was to make a poor decision had been killed, and there had been no reason for it that she could see. After counting the dead, Audria finds Elric.
"Are you feeling alright? It--it looked like you were hurting a lot after you got hit by that bolt," she says quietly.
Whatever his answer, she turns to what to do next.
"Given how cruel and twisted that elf seems, we should make sure there are not any nasty surprises waiting in the cellar or in the servants' quarters. After that, we'll need to tend to the dead and make sure their kin have some closure. At least we caught their murderer."
"I'm alright. The bolt struck a vulnerable point where my armor was weak, a shot I'd have difficulty to master myself. This elf is as dangerous as she is deranged. We've done Korvosa a service to bring her down." he says before picking up his bow to assist in clearing out the remaining zombies.
As Shrike begins to carry the unconscious prisoner towards the basement, Elric suggest an alternative.
"We should certainly check the cellars, but carrying a captive could hinder us if we run into more hostile surprises. If you bring her outside instead, I'll call Galewing down to guard her. First sign of trouble, he'll raise an alarm and if she tries to flee, it won't go well for her."
Shrike cocks her head minutely. "He understand 'disable but don't kill'?" She would rather keep Josie in sight, since if she wakes and tries to run and the hippogriff kills her, they will not learn anything she knows. But if Elric thinks Galewing will be a suitable guard, she gives the unconscious prisoner over without further protest.
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"He does. He's smarter than an average hippogriff and well trained. He'll make sure she stays put."
Moving outside, he takes out his signal whistle and plays a sharp note. Within seconds, the massive hippogriff descends from its patrol orbit and lands, giving Elric an inquisitive look.
He motions for Shrike to place "Josie" on the ground.
"Galewing, I need you to guard this prisoner. Keep her here and alive. If she moves or anyone else comes, sound off as loud as you can, and we'll come running. Do you understand - alive and well guarded?"
Galewing stands silently for a moment as if processing the instructions Elric has just given. The he inclines his beaked head and raises a massive claw, laying it down carefully over the motionless elf. A single talon rests on her chest while the rest dig into the soil, effectively pinning her down.
"Satisfied?" Elric asks Shrike before moving back inside.
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With the elf guarded by Galewing, the rest are free to investigate the cellar. The door at the bottom of the stairs is not locked, and hearing nothing Shrike pushes it open. A well-stocked wine rack and several large casks line the walls of the stuffy space, together with crates of out-of-fashion glassware and porcelain. A small wooden door squats in the southeastern corner.
This second door is locked - and tightly. The quality of the lock and the metal bands reinforcing the wood suggest a daunting barrier to even the most determined of trespassers. Shrike has heard that some of the more paranoid nobles have such 'panic rooms' in their estates, well-protected spaces stocked with food and drink for dire situations that might threaten their lives.
She doesn't manage to bypass the lock on the first attempt, but a clatter heard inside when she tries to do so at least seems to indicate that someone - or something - is in there.
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After Shrike's first attempt draws the attention of something within the closed and locked room, Audria leans her glaive against the wall and slides up next to Shrike.
"Is someone in there," she asks, not bothering to keep her voice down since it's clear that whatever is behind the door knows they are there. "The elf we caught seems a bit scatterbrained. Maybe she never bothered to check down here to see if anyone tried hiding here. I don't remember finding any keys on her."
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"Kandru, find any material to use for your next book yet?" Shane asks as the others take lead again.
"Galewing, I need you to guard this prisoner. Keep her here and alive. If she moves or anyone else comes, sound off as loud as you can, and we'll come running. Do you understand - alive and well guarded?"
Galewing stands silently for a moment as if processing the instructions Elric has just given. The he inclines his beaked head and raises a massive claw, laying it down carefully over the motionless elf. A single talon rests on her chest while the rest dig into the soil, effectively pinning her down.
"Satisfied?" Elric asks Shrike before moving back inside.
Shrike rocks back on her heels slightly at Galewing's display of understanding in response to Elric's directions. She nods respectfully to him and speaks a short sentence in Elven.
"Panic room. Locks from the inside. Maybe a survivor." Shrike is mostly speaking to the others, but she pauses for anyone potentially inside to answer Audria or herself. If she hears nothing, she returns to her task. This is a better-quality, better-designed lock than she has ever attempted before, so she takes out more tools and tries a slightly different method on the wine cellar's interior door. Fortunately, it does not take long to hear the series of soft clicks she was listening for.
Despite her hopes, she puts her cestus back on, picks up her curve blade, waits for the others to be ready, and counts down as usual before pushing open the heavy metal-banded wooden door.
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As the elf falls, Kandru holsters her crossbow on her back again, giving a satisfied nod. "That madwoman was a menace - who knows how many she's killed, or how many she would have killed had we not stopped her?" Following the group through the rest of the manor's rooms, she helps as best she can in the destruction of the undead, her crossbow's heavy quarrels pinning the undead to the wall - after the battles are over, she whispers prayers to Abadar over the broken corpses, blessing their delayed passage into the afterlife.
"Kandru, find any material to use for your next book yet?"
At the other tiefling's words, Kandru looks up, blinking. "I suppose some of the injuries might be worth considering - how a weapon so simple as that elf's crossbow could kill in a single, well-placed shot. All things considered, I'm a bit disappointed, frankly - Ishani and the other temple healers haven't been able to get much information on outbreak events when they occur. I was hoping this would be a bit more virulent quarantine site - it's a morbid thought, but information from an outbreak site might help us bring this sickness under control sooner, save lives."
She shrugs, her mask turning back towards the hallway as she continues her search for enemies. "To tell you the truth, I'm a bit worried about that elf as well - her trial, I mean. Those sorts use the courts to grandstand, brag about their exploits, and it's taking a toll on some of the Arbiters. Tsvaidrii actually threw up during the hearings for the Gold Market Massacre case, and Zenderholm's been having long talks with Archbanker Tuttle - rumor has it she's considering retiring. The Arbiters are good people, I gather - they don't deserve to be put through all this." The Justicar shakes her head, sighing. "The law is the law. She will swing, I'm sure, but it must be done properly. That is what separates the Watchman from the thug, the executioner from the sequential killer - we fight with order."
Realizing herself, she blinks, glancing apologetically at Shane. "Sorry about that - you asked about my book, and you got an earful of worries and copper-pinch philosophy in its place. I've just been a bit concerned lately - I've seen those Gray Maidens in action, once or twice, and it's made me think. All my life, I've been trained to uphold the law of the temple and the law of the city - the Master of Novices drilled those into me before I could read. The Gray Maidens - they're here to uphold the law, just like I am, only... I don't think their idea of law is at all like mine. I fear everything I've known will be gone tomorrow, that the order I've fought for will be swept away by this notion of New Law."
As the group approaches the door and Shrike bypasses its lock, Kandru nods at the masked elf's words, calling into the secured room. "The danger has passed; the killer has been captured. We are here to help. Come out - please, let us help you."
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"We were sent to see what had happened here. I'm Audria Lumina, a sister in the service of Shelyn, the Eternal Rose. We only want to help," Audria adds to Kandru's words.
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"To tell you the truth, I'm a bit worried about that elf as well - her trial, I mean. Those sorts use the courts to grandstand, brag about their exploits, and it's taking a toll on some of the Arbiters. Tsvaidrii actually threw up during the hearings for the Gold Market Massacre case, and Zenderholm's been having long talks with Archbanker Tuttle - rumor has it she's considering retiring. The Arbiters are good people, I gather - they don't deserve to be put through all this." The Justicar shakes her head, sighing. "The law is the law. She will swing, I'm sure, but it must be done properly. That is what separates the Watchman from the thug, the executioner from the sequential killer - we fight with order."
Shrike, facing away from this conversation, pauses in the middle of wiping blood and rotting zombie fluids off her blade with a weapon rag, and the tip of one of her ears twitches. She says nothing, however, and after a breath, meticulously finishes cleaning the sword before dropping the rag on the ground and moving on. She had failed to do so once in the heat of battle, when the acrobat-frogmaker had ambushed them while they were still finishing off the 'dancing' zombies, and now the scabbard itself will need cleaning. Perhaps that near-miraculous cantrip of Shane's would do it easily, but she decides against asking. The exercise of taking it apart and renewing it by hand will teach her to be more mindful in the future.
She had been four years old the first time Kethindiel told her: Let no arrow fly from your sight. It had been years before she understood that it was about more than arrows.
Realizing herself, she blinks, glancing apologetically at Shane. "Sorry about that - you asked about my book, and you got an earful of worries and copper-pinch philosophy in its place. I've just been a bit concerned lately - I've seen those Gray Maidens in action, once or twice, and it's made me think. All my life, I've been trained to uphold the law of the temple and the law of the city - the Master of Novices drilled those into me before I could read. The Gray Maidens - they're here to uphold the law, just like I am, only... I don't think their idea of law is at all like mine. I fear everything I've known will be gone tomorrow, that the order I've fought for will be swept away by this notion of New Law."
Right as always, Grandmother. Easier to unshoot a bow than unsay hasty words.
"No need to apologize, I myself have often voiced my concerns and misgivings with the group, which originally was quite unlike me. While I can be a private person, I've found that when lives are relying on each other for not just success but continued survival, voicing of concerns can often be prudent. I don't follow your faith, and certainly do not possess your expertise, but I can certainly understand wishing to spare others horrors like this."
"Retirement's different from vanishing. Officially." Shrike speaks up unexpectedly, without turning her head toward the conversation she has not appeared to be following. "And law's different from power. Officially."
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Under Shrike's careful ministrations, the lock clicks open and the door swings inwards. Within, among the painting supplies, is a tawdry-looking divan, a small shrine to Shelyn, several scandalous portraits of Olauren Carowyn, and Ausio Carowyn himself - looking much worse for wear in his dirty and crumpled Keleshite costume. He is brandishing a dull paint knife, but his trembling hand shows how terrified he is.
"Aaah- A-are you... Who are you?"
Somewhat reassured by Kandru and Audria's gentle words, he lets the paint knife fall and rubs his hands roughly over his stubbly cheeks.
"This is a nightmare. A nightmare... We were greeting the Westerkiers when the elven acrobat we hired as an entertainer went crazy. I saw her open fire on one of my guests with her crossbow, laughing all the while in the most frightful, shrill way. I've been locked in here for days, and every time I got up the courage to sneak out, I heard that horrible laughter above. Is she truly... Is it safe now?"
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The young paladin does her best to not look at the portraits of the late Lady Carowyn. Despite the seriousness of what has happened here, she can feel her cheeks and ears heating from just the glimpses she catches out of the corner of her eyes.
"She's unconscious, but still alive," Audria says while trying her best to sound calm and authoritative. "She won't be getting away, not after this. We've cleared the manor, but we haven't searched the servant's quarters to make sure she hasn't left any nasty surprises in them."
Her voice and expression softens as she adds, "I don't think you should see what happened. It's--It's horrible."
The color drains from her face as she recalls what had become of the Carowyns' guests and servants. The past few months had given her nightmares plenty of fuel, but this may be the worst. She shivers as tears prickle her eyes. How many of the people here had she met? How many could she have been friends with if their lives had not been cut short? What masterpieces could the artists, musicians, and performers that had been killed here have produced in the years that had been stolen from them.
She shakes her head, breaking free from her spiraling thoughts to focus on what still needs to be done.
"Lord Carowyn, can you tell us who all was in attendance and how many servants you had on the manor during the party? We need to learn if anyone was able to escape and account for the dead."
"Might be worth considering who exactly recommended that jester to your employ, innit?"
Satisfied that the cellar contains no threats, Elric quietly slips back up the stairs to join Galewing in guarding their prisoner.
Shrike sheaths her sword and stays back to let the more normal-looking members of the group take the lead when they find only Ausio Carowyn inside the panic room. A single life snatched back from the monsters is more than nothing. It is also far from enough. She could wish he had been able to take more into the safe room with him, but she can't blame Ausio for fleeing. It is not his fault he is not a warrior. The croak is noticeably gentler than usual when she speaks. "One of the musicians you hired was a young human man. Varisian. Plays the ocarina. Do you know what happened to him?"
If Josie had attacked a large group openly near the beginning of the event, rather than slowly picking them off one by one while they were alone during it, as she would have done, then at least a few of the people at the party must surely have been alerted to the danger while there was still time to escape. Ruan could have been among them. But he had never come home. So what happened to him after he left this house?
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several scandalous portraits of Olauren Carowyn, and Ausio Carowyn himself
Shane can't help but notice one of the portraits, and feels the disdain only one who has attended an art appreciation elective can feel Oh good gods, the proportions are all wrong, more about wishful thinking than any accuracy! I realize Korvosan art tends towards the Cheliaxian style of exageration, but I for one would welcome a bit more realism. Anatomically impossible! Hips would be displaced!
He yanks his eyes away and is glad others are handling the socializing
"She's unconscious, but still alive," Audria says while trying her best to sound calm and authoritative. "She won't be getting away, not after this. We've cleared the manor, but we haven't searched the servant's quarters to make sure she hasn't left any nasty surprises in them."
At this he nods "And there maybe some servants huddling somewhere for their own lives, not that any could blame them."
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"T-the guest list, my wife has it. Ho-how is-" Lord Carowyn is unable to finish the sentence, instead staring at Audria hopefully.
"The servants... we have six- no, seven. Hired another maid for Olauren, Wymda was getting old... The jester, who recommended her? Can't recall. The ocarine player, I was really looking forward to hear him play, but he didn't manage to, no, the whole place went mad before his performance, ahaha."
The man is clearly a nervous wreck, babbling incessantly to keep at bay the horror of what he witnessed, and the fear of what he might hear if he lets the others speak.
The servant's residence is empty of people, alive or dead. If some of the guests or servants escaped the carnage, they must have done so early on; all the doors and the shutters on all the windows have been jammed shut. And while many of the bodies in the manor bear the signs of blood veil, a closer examination shows that it is merely a staged illusion, likely achieved through the use of the sculpt corpse wand that the elf was carrying.