Yargin coughs. "In that case..."
Griggs moves into the room and offers his shoulder to Yargin. "Don't worry about the others, Severin--I'll get them to the Citadel."
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Griggs looks like he's about to protest, but he sighs in resignation. "...fine. I'll go collect the other prisoners." He turns and stalks off into the temple, returning a few minutes later with the noncombatant prisoners.
"Will Griggs and the others be able & willing to help?" Griggs cringes. "Look, missy, as much as I'd like to put the high priestess in the dead-book myself, I'm more concerned with these sods here." He nods at Egan & Ylanna. "I'd rather get them and theirs back topside, and report in to Kroft about what's been going down here." "Stay here and keep an eye on the cultists. If things go south for us... well, that's not really an option. If anyone else wants to give some backup, I'd kinda appreciate it..." "Sorry, cutter." Griggs puts the head of his scythe on the floor. "I'll keep an eye on these barmies for you, but after this I need to get 'em to safety."
Karri's acid blob flies over the priest's head. Griggs focuses on killing the fanatic before him...
...and impales the man on his scythe before bodily throwing him to the floor below. He snorts in satisfaction before running after Karri.
Karri's glob of acid burns the hem of the cultist's robes, while the fifth cultist goes down under a flurry of broken glass, acid and blessed weapons. Griggs swings his scythe once more!
This time, his swing nearly drives the fanatic to his knees.
Griggs raises his scythe and brings it down on the cultist's head!
His faces scrunches up in frustration as the fanatic barely manages to block the incoming weapon in time.
Griggs advances on his cultist and wordlessly swings at him.
This time, when he isn't chattering, he manages to rake the scythe's blade along the cultist's leg.
Griggs turns and runs up the stairs on the north wall, getting up to the catwalk to engage the fourth cultist. "When I'm done with you, not even your name will make it into the dead-book's black chapters, berk." He growls, leaping into position.
Griggs just glares at the chuckling priest and moves to put his scythe through the man's nethers.
Unfortunately, it turns out that the man's nethers are particularly well-armoured. The scythe bounces off without hurting him.
Griggs snatches up the scythe and robes. "Thanks, cutter. Get me some armour to wear, too, and I'll help you escort these ones topside."
"How'd they get you, anyway?" Griggs grunts once and wrinkles his nose. "Heard some of the Forgottenfolk were being scragged up in the dead of night. Tracked them to here. Thought I was keeping to the shadows well enough. Promptly hit the blinds." "What did they do to you?" "Nicked me up bad, and doused me with weird, pox-ridden dreck." Griggs coughs once before straightening himself up. "Been doing the same thing to the other poor sods here. Except none of us got sick, and it's been torquing those addle-coves right off." "Look, we need to get out of here, and quick. Kroft & the Queen need to know about what the sodding Hell's going on down here."
The corporal's coughing eases significantly, and he rises to his feet. "...thanks." He blinks a few times, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. "Severin? Thanks a lot--thought for sure those barmy pikers had finally decided to dead-book me."
Griggs' eyes snap open and he takes a sharp breath of air. He starts coughing violently, unable to speak.
The obsidian key slides into the cell's lock and opens it with a *click*. "...ehhh..." Griggs stirs. He looks like he's in REALLY rough shape.
Demitri's Heal Roll:
From where you're standing, it appears Corporal Griggs is still alive, though just barely. The cultists here must have done quite a number on him. The door to Griggs' cell is locked.
The Old Man stops and looks over at you, not saying a word. "Cutter's got a lead on what's causing this to spread?" Griggs chimes in as he scratches his head. "Some good news at last. And through coins?" He blinks, the confusion in his eyes all too clear. "THERE'S something I didn't expect to hear..." Hartleby's face pales. "Wait... then that means..." He turns on his heel and starts walking off into the commune at a brisk pace.
Griggs nods. "So far, we've found signs of a struggle that ended with one dead Shoanti kid." He gestures to a spot on the city wall. A dark bloodstain flecked with what appears to be dead skin mars the otherwise spotless brickwork. There's some trampled grass and dirt around the stain. "So far, all we have to go on is that and a noble's eyewitness testimony." He glances at Marius, who looks away. "I'd tell ya more, but I'm saddled with supervising these sods." He gestures to the other guardsmen at work. "At least they're smart enough not to dirty up a crime scene." "Think ya could take a look around, see what else you can turn up?"
Lyla:
Aside from the exhaustion evident in his eyes, Simon appears to be fine... Nalun:
At the pace you're currently moving, it's difficult to say if there's anything out of place. Perhaps a closer look is warranted once you arrive... "Just peachy, darling." Clay grumbles at Lyla, turning on his heel and leading the team over to the wall. Corporal Griggs is standing with a pair of Guardsmen, speaking with the two of them. "...well, check the surrounding neighbourhood again. There's gotta be more than one leatherhead here who saw something. I don't give a s**t if the vic's a Shoanti--puttin' folks in the dead-book before old age takes 'em away will not go unpunished, no matter what--" "SIR! They're here!" Clay calls out, catching the Varisian's attention. Griggs waves the guards off and turns to the approaching party. "Alright. Private, good job. On your way." He nods at Clay, who glowers at everyone before walking off. Griggs watches him leave with a look of concern on his face before turning back to the team. "Kroft's briefed you on this, right?"
"Yeah. Try not to be too obvious about it." Griggs deadpans in response. "Folks are getting awfully on edge lately."
"Oh, yes. Ol' Blackjack's real enough." Griggs nods. "The Blue Bastards would LOVE it if he was really dead--maybe he's in the dead-book, maybe he's not." He shrugs, but gets a faraway look in his eye. "It'd be nice if he did come back, one of these days... might make my job easier."
Corporal Griggs is returning from a patrol with a couple of other guards as Lyla approaches him. He looks up at her, dusting off his uniform. "Yeah? Need something?" Once the corporal approaches her, she asks him whether he needs help with some task for the day; she listens with interest to his instructions, memorizing it all so she can tell the rest of the group later. Griggs scratches his head. "Can't really think of anything off the top of my brain-box..." His eyes light up, as if he just remembered something. "Oh, yeah. Think you and your bloods could keep your ears to the ground for a few days? Chant goin' round is that ol' King Eodred died of something other than old age, and I don't have enough time to keep my ears parked to it nowadays." "So, Griggs... have you ever seen that guy people talk about? Blackjack?" At her question, Griggs shrugs. "Off and on, when I was starting out in the Guard. Last I heard of him was about ten years after I made corporal--struck right at the heart of the Cerulean Society and took out its old guildmaster." He chuckles. "Didn't think the barmy sod had it in him to try something like that--had to go to ground almost immediately afterward." He gives Lyla a quizzical look. "Why do you ask?"
Althea appears to be exhausted from the day's events, and doesn't make much of a fuss as to how messy the shop is, for once. She lets you tend to her injuries as she falls asleep. Corporal Griggs pats Lyla on the shoulder. "Cutter, how about you tell your friends to swing by the Citadel tomorrow? I'm sure Kroft would love to properly reward you for your expertise." With that, he takes his leave.
You reach the shop just as Althea & Corporal Griggs step through the door. Griggs looks back, waving to you.
"I'll see if Kroft'll be up to it. She's a canny blood, she'll listen." Griggs grins. He disappears into the crowds of Old Korvosa as Lyla and Ortik return to Zellara's home. The afternoon sun shines down on the streets as Lyla & Ortik make their way back across the bridge over the St. Alika Narrows. A couple of wagons cross the streets of North Point, their cargo bouncing about along the cobblestones. When Lyla & Ortik return home, they find the house buzzing with activity from the children.
Griggs looks back at the docks, at the patrols of thugs keeping order in Eel's End. "I'm not sure, cutter, but from what I've heard, Devargo's got quite a few bashers in his pocket and several hopefuls to choose from by the day. If you want my advice on dealing with the berk, here it is..." He looks back at Lyla, concern etched on his face. "Bar that. There's at least a dozen of them and three of us; we're bound to hit the blinds if we try it now. If we try to storm the place, they're bound to put us all in the dead-book, and I don't fancy our chances of sneaking her out of there in broad daylight." He looks back at Eel's End, thinking.
Griggs looks between Ortik & Lyla, pondering their words. "Devargo's not barmy enough to just up and scrag someone without a damned good reason; that's a sure-fire way to call Kroft down on him, and she's been itching to do so for a while. Haven't heard much about his health..." A smirk breaks out on his face when he looks back at Lyla. "Cutter, have you heard anything about his work environment?"
Lyla's Knowledge Roll, Pt. 2: From what you've heard of Devargo's operation in Eel's End, he goes out of his way to ensure his cooks are well-paid... but he's also known to neglect the environment his cooks work in. Mixing cauldrons that leak and irreparably damage his workers' health, improper storage of finished shiver causing fumes to leak and sicken his workforce, and even the occasional shiver spill that results in a workplace death are all known to happen because of his stinginess. Devargo does his best to keep news of his unsafe working conditions from getting out, but it happens.
If he's kidnapped someone as skilled at healing as Althea, it'd likely be for that reason. Things must be dire indeed if he's willing to cross the line the Korvosan Guard has drawn on his activities.
Ortik's Knowledge Roll:
With regards to Devargo, you know that he's the owner of Eel's End, a series of five ships in the Old Dock district of Old Korvosa. He's a harsh, but fair taskmaster, diligently self-policing his turf and generally running a tight ship, so to speak. He offers no sanctuary to those on the run from the Korvosan Guard, but by the same token neither guardsmen nor Hellknights nor Sable Company marines are welcome on his turf.
You do remember he's connected to Lamm in some way... Griggs picks up the pace, the midday sun glinting off his partially unsheathed longsword. From the looks of things, it's proving effective at warding off muggers and the like. "The lead I've got is that there was an old lady that matched Althea's description sighted at Eel's End recently, and from the looks of things, not voluntarily." Griggs drums his fingers along the hilt of his blade as he walks. Soon enough, the three investigators arrive at the Old Dock district. The Eel's End pier isn't hard to find. Glowing lanterns in the shape of dream spiders and god’s eyes hang from pilings or lampposts, pointing the way to the dock with five ships. Eel's End isn't very busy during the day, and it shows; while there are a few customers going from ship to ship, they're greatly outnumbered by the brutish-looking men patrolling the docks. Each of them is clad in studded leather and carrying a mean-looking axe handle. Griggs stops before the team gets close to the pier. "Ol' Devargo's keeping things quiet today..."
Lyla's Knowledge Roll: Griggs chuckles. "Relax, cutter. I don't have time for shiver. And even if I did try it, Kroft would drown me in the harbor herself."
While the streets of Old Korvosa are unfamiliar to you, the name Eel's End is not. It's actually a set of five ships moored at the Old Dock district of Old Korvosa, where gambling, prostitution and drugs such as opium and flayleaf are all available for the right price. Thanks to strict vice taxation laws enforced by the Korvosan Guard, it's allowed to operate openly. While some would argue that 'vice taxation' is simply a fancy term for 'taking bribes', it's actually been effective in keeping the place from expanding its interests. People openly affiliated with the Guard, the Hellknights or Sable Company are not welcome there.
Its owner is Devargo Barvasi, a name you've heard before from Verik. For the most part, he's been cooperative with the Korvosan Guard in that he refuses sanctuary to anyone the Guard is hunting for. He also makes a good effort to run a fair (if harsh) work environment, always paying his vice taxes and effectively policing his own affairs. You also remember the name Devargo from Lamm's fishery... something nags at you, as if you should already know this, but can't quite place it. He quickens his pace through the streets, weaving in and out of the crowds of Korvosa like a dancer. "See, there's the problem. Lamm did run out of cooks, mainly because, from what I've learned, they all jumped ship and signed on with Devargo when he ditched him. Apparently, he's a better boss than Lamm could ever be." He briefly turns to Lyla and arches an eyebrow. "One helluva low bar, isn't it?" The pair soon reach the bridge over the St. Alika Narrows leading into Old Korvosa. Through the crowd milling about on the bridge, Lyla can see a familiar face. It's Ortik, heading out of Old Korvosa.
Lyla's Knowledge Roll:
Old Korvosa, you remember, is so named because it's where the fort that led to the founding of Korvosa was built. As the city developed and more people began calling Korvosa their home, Old Korvosa was increasingly marginalized until now it is little more than a slum the size of an island.
Althea always warned you to never go there alone, that the streets were teeming with shifty folk and thugs who suffered new folk poorly... usually by beating them half to death and then dumping them in the St. Alika Narrows after relieving them of their valuables. Griggs keeps walking, looking straight ahead with one hand on his longsword. "Well, you're in for a treat, I'd say." He says dryly. "Latest chant that's been going around is that shiver's starting to hit Old Korvosa again. This time, it's much better than Lamm's s**t, not like the garbage corner dealers would try to bob you with. Almost as if a proper alchemist was making it." He pauses, looking back at Lyla. "Well, not that I'd know, mind you. But it's coming from a den of vice called Eel's End."
Griggs holds his hands out towards the energetic hobbit. "Easy there, cutter. I only said it's a lead; for all I know, it could be a dead end." He walks in front of Lyla through the streets of Midland. He appears to be heading towards Old Korvosa. "So tell me; you ever been deep into Old Korvosa before?" Griggs asks.
The corporal looks down at Lyla as she tugs at him. He has dark circles under his eyes... he must not have been getting much sleep. There's a smile on his face. "I was just looking for ya, cutter. I've got something; sounds promising. I was heading out to check it out."
As Lyla leaves Althea's home to return to Zellara's place, she sees a familiar face in the streets below the Shingles. A dark-haired, dark-eyed, weedy Varisian clad in simple brown studded leather; he's out of his uniform, but he's apparently still on the job. It's Corporal Griggs, walking along with focus and purpose. |