Devan Covarie's page

Under his hood, Devan seemed perplexed as they went about the grisly process of moving the corpses. He had expected to see explicit displays of wrongdoing, but the doctors here actually seemed to be...doctoring. Still, it was odd to have security (let alone the Queen's security) for a place that only a crazy person would venture close to.

When the last body was seen to, the young man wordlessly accepted the silver coins and slipped them into his pocket away from his other money. One could never be too sure. He followed the others out of the Hospice, sighing with relief once they were out the door and the air seemed to lighten considerably.

The musician turned to Twilight, "Any chance you could see if there was magic on these coins they gave us when we get back to the Juggler?"

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 30

Devan turned his head slightly as they were ushered in, from under his hood seeing the two Maidens on the walkways above and that they were all outfitted for melee or ranged combat. That could be troublesome, especially if these 'doctors' could also fight.

Keeping his face stoic, he moved over towards the boy with Nargun, grasping the corpse's ankles and putting it onto the stretcher with the dwarf's help. He made a slight gesture to Atticus and Mirela, motioning them towards the entrance, then went to follow the physician once more. He suspected the rat-men didn't speak while they performed their task, so he stayed similarly silent.

All in all it seemed like a normal sick-house (as far as Devan knew), besides for the guards. Looking about as they followed the plague doctor, he tried to see what the other three physicians were doing.

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16

Mirela has been filling in quite nicely, but I'll be glad to get everyone settled back into their roles, Dak. Nice to hear from you!

Devan just offered a small nod of his head to acknowledge the woman's words, not wanting to challenge anything so as to cause any ill will with the gatekeeper. When the woman stepped out, Devan peeked over the desk to see if there was anything interesting laying there, then looked back and shrugged at the others. Truthfully, the musician hadn't expected that much push back, but it seemed as though it would be best to just see what happened.

Devan gave a disinterested shrug. "Dunno. Might have them out moving the dead somewhere's else, I reckon. Plenty of that work to be done lately. I suppose we can go get 'em, if that's gonna be a problem." The young man tried to give off the air of someone who could care less which option the woman behind the desk chose, feeling quite exposed suddenly without his weapons.

Bluff: 1d20 + 12 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 12 + 4 = 18

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 25

Devan glanced at the reception room as they entered, noticing the poor condition of the one woman. Chances were she'd be carted out of the Hospice all too soon, destined for the mass burials the city had resorted to when trying to slow the spread of the Veil. It was likely too late to help that woman...but for the others maybe there was still a chance to save them.

The musician shuffled closer to the woman behind the desk, speaking in a soft voice full of city drawl, "Here to gather up those destined for the Boneyard, ma'am."

Devan returned the squeeze of his hand with a smile, nodding in agreement as Mirela praised the Professor for his quick thinking. "That's right...we just need to make sure there are still students left to teach, good man. Hopefully this place will net us the answers we need to end this plague."

When everyone was ready, the musician looked back one final time to make sure no one had any new reservations, then opened the door and let himself inside, careful to keep his head low and his posture humble.

Unless there are some other loose ends I think we're good to proceed to noon. If that's good with everyone, of course.

Devan left the disguises to Twilight, as she had proven quite adept at the process before, chuckling as he looked around at the others and their now-humble appearance. It suddenly occurred to Devan just how wealthy he and the others were. If Mirela wanted to, they could run off to practically anywhere on Golarion and live comfortably for the rest of their days.

But the City he had grown up in was in terrible danger, and the bard was determined to find the source of the rot before he contemplated any such action. Taking a couple gold coins, he went to a nearby shop and purchased a dagger, leaving his other weapons back at the Juggler before meeting up with the others and the wererat at noon.

Devan nodded. "Understood. Then I feel it should be a pure reconnaissance mission, then. Daggers for protection should things get hairy, but otherwise in and out and taking in the area for how many guards and that sort of thing."

Devan listened to the suggestions, then spoke up. "If we can push the cart through and into the building, we should maybe just hide our gear under some blankets and rags that we'll presumably use to cover the dead. That way we can be ready in case things get dicey. If we cover up with robes and cloaks we should be able to keep our armor on."

Devan thought it over for a moment, then said, Perhaps a short scouting mission first, to get a lay of it. Then a brief planning period and then we head in to get the information we seek." He looked to the others to see if they were in agreement.

Turning to the others, Devan inquired, "What do you all think? Pose as the body collectors to gain entrance and then improvise?"

Devan listened to the ratman speak, glad he hadn't let his hopes spin out of control about waiting for the intelligence. While it was always nice to have the entries and exits confirmed, it just meant that the group would have a hard time infiltrating, it sounded like.

Thinking quickly before Ben left them, the young man asked, "Do you think you could get any of those masks that those doctors wear? Or maybe we can pose as a body collection party? Any particular password or phrase?"

Devan replied to Mirela bitterly, "These doctors were supposed to be helping, but they've apparently thrown in the towel on Old Korvosa. Convinced the Queen to amputate the limb instead of trying to save it. Especially since this particular limb is full of the poor..." The young man shook his head, caressing Mirela's shoulder for a moment before listening to Twilight speak about her ceremony that evening.

The musician didn't understand much of what the half-elf was talking about with arcane and divine bonds, but it was obviously important to her and therefore important to the rest of the group, as well. "I'm glad to attend, Twilight. Hopefully we'll have some answers about these doctors by that point, as well, and we'll have multiple reasons for rejoicing."

Bard Level 3:

HP - 4+2=6
BAB +1
Fort +1

Inspire Competence +2

New Bard Spells Known:
0 - Light
1 - Feather Fall

Skills (6 + 2 Int + 1 Human + 1 Favored Class):

Acrobatics
Diplomacy
Escape Artist
Knowledge Local
Perception
Perform Sing (2)
Perform String (2)
Stealth

Devan woke up feeling a little tired from the previous day's marathon but otherwise in good spirits as he caressed the redhead next to him. He was a man of action, and this morning the group would get the information from the ratfolk and hopefully get into the Hospice and see what was going on. He was always more comfortable with doing rather than waiting.

Walking downstairs, the musician's brow furrowed at the strange happenings in the Juggler, his eyes widening slightly in shock as the reality set in. Old Korvosa had been sealed off. Vencarlo was probably out there. He mentally wished the old man luck, hoping the fencer wouldn't fall victim to the Veil.

When Twilight approached him, he took the invitation curiously, waiting until the end of her speech, opening it and then reading the contents. He nodded his head in acceptance, smiling at the half-elf. He wasn't sure what the ceremony entailed, but he trusted these others completely and wouldn't begrudge any of them his company should they request it. He had done the lonely road thing...and it sucked.

Once any others had asked questions, he said, "As if we didn't already know, things are getting bad. If they've quarantined the whole island that means the plague is spreading like wildfire. We need to meet with our contact and then try to get to the bottom of this."

Devan sat behind Mirela, his hands on her bare shoulders. He leaned down and kissed her forehead before sitting up, bearing a look of contemplation. "It would be worse if we weren't here, I can guarantee you that. How many people have we potentially saved through the bit we've done? And surely there are more like us, too."

The young man looked back down at the redhead, continuing, "But you're right...it's not enough. Korvosa's dying, and it's being helped along by this Andaisin woman. And what she's up to is in that Hospice, I can feel it. Or it will lead us to her. If the doctors are real, she can't allow them to undo her work. We have to hope that the city can last long enough for us to unravel this plot. I'll be glad when this is over and we can get to some semblance of normality."

Devan nodded at Mirela's words, smiling at the dwarf. After Nargun had spoke, the young man felt that any words he might have added would only sully the moment between Mirela and the dwarf. Putting an arm around the woman's shoulders after a minute, he glanced over at her with a mischievous grin. "How about that hot bath, milady?"

Devan came up the stairs with a smile on his face, giving Mirela a brief kiss on the lips before stepping aside so she could be led down below.

Devan counted out the 380 gold coins, loathe to let them go but even more loathe to let the mild feeling of fatigue and malaise continue to hang around his person.

Devan was relieved to head back to the Juggler with the others, occasionally stealing a smile with the priestess and looking forward to the promised bath later. How many times had they returned to the Juggler at this point, ready to live life to the fullest before they risked their lives on the morrow? If this was the life of a hero, it was exciting, but also complete rubbish.

When Joy came down and spoke to them, the young man arched a brow as the woman's hand dropped down to the crop at her side. "If by obeisances you mean coin, yes, I have that."

I believe Devan has a pending negative level that I'd rather not risk the save against. Not sure what the price was for the 'cheap' restoration, but happily willing to pay it.

Devan chuckled and raised his drink. "To the lovebirds!" When the barmaid offered thanks for his help with the rowdy crowd earlier, he again raised his glass in her direction, taking another long sip before setting it on the table.

"The Juggler sounds good right about now..." The musician eyed Mirela through the door before getting up and walking out of the tavern, giving a cheery wave to the proprietor before exiting.

Outside, he walked up to the redheaded priestess and embraced her. "I missed you. Oh, it was horrible, Atticus had me playing logic games and everything." He grinned at the woman, admiring her features in the waning sunlight.

Devan nodded respectfully to Kiranmai, saying, "I understand, ma'am. Hopefully circumstance will work out in both our favors." He raised his glass to her before turning back to Atticus.

As Twilight came strolling into the bar, the musician looked somewhat relieved. The ratfolk were a secretive folk, but that hadn't stopped him from getting somewhat worried.

When the barmaid came over and spoke, it was all Devan could do to not bust out laughing. Instead, he grinned and said nothing, deferring to the Professor.

After the scene played out, he glanced out the door and saw the priestess outside playing with Whisper, his eyes lingering for a moment before turning back to regard Atticus and Twilight. "So we possibly might have some more information in the morning from our allies. You think it's worth the wait?"

Devan relaxed a bit as he saw the dwarf diffuse the situation behind the scenes while he played in front of the crowd. As he finished with a flourish, he grinned over at Atticus before bowing and then taking a seat beside the Professor. "Any requests, Professor?"

Later, when the woman approached, he smiled at her from his seat, mulling over the offer. In truth, it had been quite some time since he had played in front of others. Or really even alone, with how busy the group had been. Still, he had thrown in with these people for the good of the city, and it was best to not get too entangled in anything until all this played out for good or ill.

"Perhaps on occasion, for now. I have other commitments that would keep me from coming to a steady job. But perhaps when those are finished I would be interested, ma'am."

Devan continued to play along, smiling as he sang out the verses and stomped his foot to the rhythm. His dark eyes drifted over occasionally to the dwarf searching the sailor, just keeping his gaze on them to ensure nothing strange might happen, but in general just kept up the entertainment for a bit, hoping to get the tavern back into a lively, yet pleasant atmosphere.

Devan flashed a quick smile to the buxom barmaid every time she came to check on the duo, but swiftly averted eye contact to make it clear he was being civil and kind so as not to invite attention. The young man's face darkened at the sight of the family being marched down the street towards the former warehouse, his jaw clenching as he again fought down the urge to rush the group and advise them against the 'care' of the Queen's Physicians.

When the fight broke out (almost inevitable, in a place like this), Devan rolled his eyes and looked over at the Professor. "What do you think, Atticus? Did he cheat?" Shaking his head, the musician pulled out his lute and strummed a few simple notes, wincing at the sound. To a layperson it probably sounded ok, but the young man could tell how out of practice he was. Still, he started a bawdy tavern song about a ship's mate who was always on the wrong side of luck, adding his voice after he played the first chorus instrumental.

Perform Strings: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (8) + 10 = 18

Devan returned the smile of the barmaid and offered a quick wave before moving to the opposite side of the table from Atticus as the Professor retrieved a game to pass the time with and keep up their facade. The young man frowned as he noticed the plague doctor marching the lone man down the street, pushing down the manic urge to go after them and plead with the man to not go into the building the physician was leading him to.

Instead, Devan idly moved one of the red pieces on the game board, putting little thought into it as his mind drifted, lifting his eyes repeatedly to the window and the foreboding structure beyond.

It's good to hear from you, Dak. I'm glad you are doing better and hope your spouse's surgery is a success and she recovers quickly, as well.

Devan dutifully looked at the board, deciding to eat light in case they needed to move out fairly soon once the ladies and Nargun had finished their intel-gathering. He grinned widely at Atticus as the serving girl walked off with a flourish, scooting a few feet away. "Best start conjuring something up, my friend." The young man chuckled at the older man's discomfort.

When Chrissy returned, Devan picked up the mug of ale and took a swallow, the bitter taste both welcome and causing a rush of anxiety. Calming, he reminded himself that he was in a better place and resolved to take his time with the drink. Setting it back on the table, he was treated to a tantalizing view of the barmaid's bosom as she peppered the Professor with questions. Smirking at the thought of Mirela's reaction to such an obvious display, he turned and looked at the Professor. "I'll just take the toasted cheese bread. I'm not sure about my friend here...he is getting a bit nervous about everything. Then again, he might need a good, strong meal for later, you know."

He turned and shared a knowing, sly smile with Chrissy before looking back at Atticus for his reply.

Devan sat at the table with Atticus impatiently, making attempts at small talk as he watched for a table near a window to clear. The young man motioned for the Professor to follow as he got up and walked over to the newly abandoned table, frowning at the grime on the pane of glass. Sighing, the musician used a shirt sleeve and wiped away at the glass until a small portion was relatively clear and transparent, trying to catch a glimpse of the street outside and the Hospice.

As the serving girl came up, Devan returned her smile, putting an arm around Atticus's shoulders. "Get us both an ale, if you will. Celebrating my friend here finally popping the question to his missus!" Of course, it probably didn't matter to the woman, it was just more fun to come up with something outrageous to make the Professor uncomfortable.

Bluff: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28

Devan clapped Nargun on the shoulder, thankful that he would accompany the ladies on their journey to speak to the ratfolk. Things were supposed to be good between them, but these were troubled times and the young man felt better knowing that the sturdy dwarf would be along, also.

Devan left the tavern and followed Twilight outside, glad to be free of the confines of the rowdy place. The young man wasn't opposed to such establishments at all, it just seemed almost unnatural in this time of death, disease, and despair.

The musician listened to the half-elf break down to Mirela what they were hoping to accomplish by going to Yellow-Eyes, saying, "I'll hold things down here with Nargun and the Professor, if you'd like to join Twilight." The young man glanced meaningfully at the wolf pup, then smiled at the redhead.

Devan walked back with purpose, his strides long and quick. Seeing Mirela outside the tavern with the young wolf, he slowed, watching her supple movements as she threw a stick for Whisper to go fetch, waiting until he caught her eye and then offering a wide smile as he approached. "Sounds about right...Whisper's too good for most of that lot in there."

The young man gave the redhead a brief kiss before he gave a brief rundown of his talk with the guardswoman. "From what she said, conditions are even worse in Old Korvosa...I hope Vencarlo is doing ok." The musician was pretty sure the older man was likely managing, but spared him a little thought before continuing, "She said they've been bringing in lots of sick people, but most of them don't come back out."

Giving her a worried look, he grasped her hand in his, "I'll need to let the others know what's going on and see what they've found out. I'll try not to be jealous of your company out here while I drift in that mess." Devan grinned, giving her hand a squeeze before going inside the tavern.

Weaving his way through the crowd, Devan spied the other trio and walked over to them, taking a seat. Eyeing the mug of ale Twilight in front of him with suspicion amid the general environs, he left it untouched as he started discussing their findings.

"I like the idea of talking to Yelloweyes and seeing if there's a different way inside. If anyone knows, it's the rrr...right folk." Talking more quietly, he continued, [smaller]"I'm not sure there are bodies leaving, honestly. The way that guardwoman sounded was that the people don't come back out at all, dead or alive. There's something going on in there..."

Devan listened worriedly as the guardwoman lowered her voice and spoke of the current state of events in Korvosa. From the sound of things, it was even worse than the group had thought. The musician wanted to give the woman hope, but even implying the party's plan might cause complications later if somehow the guard spilled the beans. So he just smiled sadly and said, "Hopefully, guardswoman. All we can do is be vigilant and try to help those in need until this is over."

The young man gave a wave and turned back towards the alley with the seedy tavern Nargun had directed the group to, wanting to report back and see if the others had surveiled the Hospice.

The young man inhaled the scent of lavender, wondering how effective it was against the smell of rot, sickness, and death. Probably not very, he would guess.

Devan let a small smile creep onto his face at the guardwoman's questions, nodding. "Part of it, yes. That sure was...that was some terrible business, in Racker's Alley. With all the problems in the city, who would do such a thing? Hopefully those cretins were dealt with!"

Letting the silence hang in the air for a couple moments, he continued, "Is this where they're treating the sick? Have they had any breakthroughs yet? I know there are high hopes for these Queen's Physicians..." The musician let the last word trail off a bit, giving the indication that he wasn't very hopeful himself.

Devan looked at the guard for a moment, gauging whether he ought to go speak with the woman. Trusting that Kroft's guards were more or less the 'good guys', the musician waited until the woman had stepped away from the Hospice a bit before approaching her. "Well met, guardswoman. Bringing more of the sick to the Hospice, I see. Busy working on remedies in there to remove the plague?"

The young man had a hopeful look on his face, and he truly was hopeful. Just not expecting an affirmative answer. Devan's dark eyes scrutinized the woman's face and body posture, looking for tells that she might be lying or leaving something out of her response.

Devan chuckled, nodding. "I understand, friend. Although I can't say that I was very particular about which tavern I ended up in. I was thinking that I'd follow them, though. Sometimes when you're entertaining you have to learn how to slip away from a rough crowd."

Reaching a hand out to grasp the dwarf's shoulder, he continued grinning. "Go ahead and lead them on to the Retreat and down a mug for me. I'm off to see what those fellows are up to."

Turning away, the musician offered the redheaded priestess a swift stroke on her arm, pausing for just a moment in case any others wanted to offer rebuke or assistance before taking off.

Devan listened as Twilight spoke of what she had seen down the alley. "Maybe one or two of us should follow them and see if they're going to the Hospice. We could see which entrance is the main one used for entry. The others could continue on to the tavern and try to gain intel from there."

Devan's nose wrinkled at the smell of cooking meat, though once he saw where the black smoke was coming from he immediately lost his appetite. What a sad state for Korvosa and its citizens, that those lost to the Veil had to be fed to the fire and not properly interred with their family in attendance to send them off. Perhaps the Hospice would offer a glimmer of hope to the city.

The bard nodded at Nargun, smiling at the dwarf for remembering an astute detail like that. Devan could hardly remember anything from his weeks of gloom, drinking himself until the darkness claimed him. As Twilight fell behind, the musician looked behind, but when he saw her following from a distance, he forced himself to stop looking. It would only draw attention to her.

When Atticus pointed out the notes on the doors, Devan's face darkened as he read them. What a horrible state, to be isolated as the disease ravaged your body. He understood the need to keep healthy people away, but it was still a horrific thought. The young man briefly put an arm around Mirela's shoulder, kissing the mane of red hair on the side of her head before continuing with the others towards the rowdy tavern.

Once the group had left Kroft's vicinity, Devan joined the discussion. "Yes, just to get a glimpse of how many guards there seems to be, how active the place is, how many entry points, that sort of thing. That will help us plan what we do later on tonight."

Devan was a little fearful of the task before them, as it might put the group directly against the Queen's forces, but he mainly felt invigorated, as he was always much more a man of action than waiting. They'd gather their intelligence and then delve into the Hospice and figure out exactly what was going on in the place.

And thanks for checking in, Dak! I'm glad you're recovering from your nightmare encounter with the virus. Take care and hope to see you soon.

I don't mind waiting for Dak to return, but if you don't mind running things I'm not opposed to it, either. I've played through this before, and Mirela definitely needs to come along (which you stated would be the case).

It's been crazy busy, but I'm missing interacting with you all. Hope you all are doing well!

Devan frowned as everyone spoke, offering, "Sounds like subtle investigation it is, then. The Maidens and Physicians work for the Queen, not Korvosa. Even if they are on the up and up, they're not likely to view our meddling favorably."

The musician looked at Nargun, adding, "If we find wrong-doing, we stop it. If the worst is happening, they are actively killing the people of this city. Any means necessary." The young man's lips pressed into a grim line at the thought, wondering if the group was overreacting.

The physicians might just be inept, or overwhelmed and too late to stop the spread of the terrible disease. Still, they DID know that someone was actively spreading Blood Veil, they just didn't know who was involved beyond this Andaisin person.

Devan could certainly understand Kroft’s frustration. The Guard had basically been reduced down to a token force, its authority and financing usurped by the Grey Maidens. With Blood Veil running rampant and no resources to stem it, all the Field Marshal could do was helplessly watch as the city was consumed.

The musician was a bit alarmed at how the conversation was playing out as talk turned to the Hospice. While the party had uncovered what seemed to be a plot to bring the plague to Korvosa, surely the doctors weren’t involved. Eyebrows furrowing, he looked to Kroft to see how she answered the ladies’ questions. That would tell him how grave it was.

Seeing that a consensus had been reached and wanting to get moving so as to unload Lord Carowyn on Kroft and her guards, Devan clapped the man on the shoulder in a friendly way. "Well, let's get you over to the guard so we can report on this whole situation and you can get settled in somewhere safe."

The musician glanced over at the others, clearly worried. The City was on a downward slope to the Nine Hells, it seemed, and the little pockets of resistance were doing little to stem the tide. Devan wanted to get moving on this quickly, as finding the jester seemed to be a link to find this mysterious Rolth figure.

Devan smirked at Atticus's suggestion, though he did offer to Mirela. "We tend to leave the bad guys in a rather poor state, usually." The musician made sure to not glance Nargun's way when he spoke, lest he take it as an insult.

"As for Ruan, who knows? He could have a face that the sick man is just itching to put on his next meat puppet. We know where this Rolth might be, though. We could check out his lair in the Dead Warrens, again, on the off chance he's still there." The young man shrugged.

Thinking on his lover's statement, he nodded. "Yes, we did find the second key lock knife in Rolth's possession, and we found the first with that despicable...", Devan glanced at the barbarian and continued, "person who wronged us all. Maybe it wasn't just a single killer."

Devan's eyes flashed with recognition at the name Rolth, though it took him a minute to place it. "That was the wizard in the Dead Warrens who was collecting body parts. We fought the derros there..." Actually, I think people had mentioned Rolth as a necromancer, which the musician was pretty sure had something to do with the dead. With all the recently deceased piling up it would be a paradise to someone like the sick sorcerer.

It seemed like the young man wasn't accounted for. If he had escaped, he surely would have went home to his sister, which meant he had likely been captured for some other purpose. "Lord Carowyn, we're sorry for your loss. We'll make sure the guard is alerted to the...mess...here so it can be sorted out." If anyone else wanted to question the man further, Devan was willing to stay put, but otherwise was ready to depart and inform their patron of the situation.

Devan was clearly puzzled as the group searched the last of the house and still found no sign of the young man they were seeking. Perhaps the elf could lead them to the lad, but the musician thought that asking Whisper to track the mad elf through a city full of people was a tall order. Worth a shot, though.

When the party retrieved Lord Carawyn, Devan spoke to the man gently, "As far as we can tell, it is safe. The elven jester has fled, though she might return I'm afraid. It probably isn't safe for you here."

Looking quickly back at the others, Devan paused a moment, then continued, "Olauren didn't survive, though it looks as though she was spared the fate of your guests." The musician kept the harshness away from his tones, even though he felt the man a fool for trying to throw a party in the middle of the disease ravaging the city.

Devan shook his head at Mirela's question. "I haven't seen anyone resembling him yet. Still a bit more house to look at, though...maybe another hidey hole he managed to find for himself." The young man's tone wasn't hopeful, but it was a possibility.

When Twilight let the lady of the house back in and then proceeded to lay her down to rest in a more permanent fashion, the musician sighed. His first thought was to take out his lute and sing a song for the deceased, but he was afraid there might still be some corpses shambling around that might be drawn to the commotion.

Once that deed was done, Devan looked to the others. "Let's clear out the remainder of the house to make sure it's safe for Lord Carawyn to reclaim his household and see if we can find our quarry."