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Devrim fights back the reflex to hold his nose as the foul aroma of the room hits him as he speeds down the stairs. He leaps over the end of the railing beside Aerodus, placing himself shoulder to shoulder with Tyr. He holds aloft his scimitar in his right hand, his left starts weaving a simple cantrip as the words spring to his mouth. He points the index finger on his left hand at the beleaguered half-orc as the air seems to turn cold in a line betwixt the two.
Devrim florishes his blade, flicking the excess blood from its length while producing a piece of cloth to wipe it clean. He looks at Aerodus and then motions to the rest of the building, "We finish what we came to do." He then turns his attention to the children with their pitchforks, "What hole in this place has Lamm crawled into, little ones? We shall make sure he never lays another hand upon any of you as he will be short two of them when we are done."
Devrim lashes out at the badly wounded gnome with the flat of his scimitar's blade, attempting to knock him out to question afterward.
Devrim yelps in pain at the blood stripe appears across his leg, his free hand goes to clutch at the wound to slow the blood loss. His jaw tightens as he weaves his scimitar in an often practiced dueling pattern and attempts to return the favor to the gnome, "The only one who is going to be skinned is you, knave! You shall NOT touch these children again!"
Devrim hears his name being called as the sounds of the suprise attack leak out of the room. He draws his scimitar as he runs into the room, leveling the blade at the nearby children and puts a finger of his free hand to his lips, "Everyone just remain calm and quiet. No one shall be harmed who gives us no reason for action. We are only here for the one who enslaves you."
Devrim stands outside and out of sight while the others speak inside the fishery. His hand goes to his scimitar as he plants on ear upon the wooden walls of the building, trying to hear whatever he can from within.
Devrim holds his nose while the others discuss how to proceed, "I shall probably have to hang back. I'm sure my garments would be out of place in this ploy as a fish would be walking on land. Someone at the door give me a signal once you're ready to act and I shall rush in."
Devrim passes the man three silver shields plus an extra for a tip before he picks up the crate by both hands, "Thank you for the advice. I'll be sure to pay the locals mind if I get in someone's 'spot'." With that, he turns to head back toward the area he left the others, lugging his crate of foul smelling treasure.
Devrim quickly points toward the crate of unedible fish beside the merchant's stall, "My good man, I find myself with a fancy to try my hand at fishing today. How much for the lot of those pitiful specimens? They look good for nothing but bait which suits me fine."
Devrim nods his agreement with Aerodus as he rests his hand upon his dueling scimitar, "Aye, you speak the truth, friend. I am sure eyes are upon us as we stand here and discuss our options. We had best proceed quickly and have this task done so that Lamm may taste the flavor of our justice for supper. If one of you will come help me find a few fish merchants to buy some fish off and haul it back, the rest should gather a couple quick and dirty disguises that will let us at least get our feet in the door." Wasting no more time, Devrim starts walking down the street, looking for some fishing vessels or merchants to buy a few pounds of rotten fish. His hand goes to his nose at the thought of the stench as his shoulders give a shudder.
Devrim shakes his head at Jack, "He didn't specify though he did claim that he made his deliveries himself and there is not that much when he does. If I was to hazard a guess, I'd say he brought them in via basket or sack." The young nobleman purses his lips in thought at Aerodus' idea, calculating the chances of it actually working. "I suppose some of us could pull it off. We'd have to appear the part of fishermen and get our hands on some bait quality dreg. My sense of smell shall never forgive me for this, I fear."
Devrim thanks the man as he strolls back to the others with Solace. His brow furrows in thought before he answers Aerodus, "It depends on how you define useful. Lamm's official front seems to be that of a fishery that buys all the rotting fish in the area. For what foul purpose, I don't know. The face for this operation is a man called Yargin and the labor force appears to be the children so I suppose starting a fire wouldn't be the brightest idea at this point."
Devrim brings forth a gold sail which he idly rubs between two of his fingers as he follows up on Solace's soothing words, "We were merely in the area looking for an old acquaintance of ours. The directions we were given happen to be the building you just left and as I didn't know you, I thought for a moment that I might have been told wrong. Perhaps you can set me straight on who lives there as I'd hate to be rude and barge in expecting an old friend to instead be surprised instead with a complete stranger."
"That is not a bad idea though it might be difficult to keep it contained if we let the fire grow too big. I do not know about you but I for one would not want to be charged with burning down half the district, not even counting the dozens of innocent lives that would be lost in the process. But for now, while you contemplate ideas, I think I shall go have a word with our departing visitor." Devrim sets off after the man who just left Lamm's, hurrying to catch up while trying to appear non-chalant about his task. He fingers a few gold sails from his pocket, ready to grease the man's tongue with greed if required to make him talk.
Devrim nods in agreement with Jack as he points after the man who just left Lamm's hideout, "We can learn something by observing that man and if the opportunity presents itself, question him about his business with Lamm, though at least a few should stay here to keep an eye out on who comes or goes. It would not do to plan a raid this evening and have the subject not in residence at the time."
Devrim lays his hands upon the table as the others talk strategy, "If we do detain this young criminal for questioning, what is to stop the child from telling Lamm about our inquires? Do you mean to hold the little one captive until after we are finished with our business? Or on the otherside, do you think it would set off any warning flags in Lamm's head if one of his flock does not return before the evening? At the least, we should go and study the entrances and exits to his abode. A few discreet questions with locals in the area might bear some fruit."
Devrim gives the slightest smirk at the card he selects though a few stray beads of sweat roll down his jawline. When Zellara finishes up the Harrowing, he blurts out, "Yes, yes. Beware old habits, the road ahead is frought with peril, the night is always darkest before the dawn. Wonderfully vague warnings and foretellings as they are, none of it helps us with the job set before us. We need to examine Lamm's hideout and plan our method of attack."
Devrim looks un-impressed with Zellara's explaination but lets the topic drop as he purses his lips at the mention of a Harrow reading, "I must have a word with these city musicians. I doubt the cards will tell us much we do not already know but do not let me stop you from your rituals, Madam." He nods in agreement as the others discuss tactics, "While I am loathe to stoop to such a strategem of subterfuge, it would probably be best to at least gauge the level of threat we face before blindly rushing in the front door, though the latter is much more noble of character." Once Solace removes her veil and calls for renewed introductions, Devrim eyes her appraisingly before clearing his throat once more, "It is again my honor to be Devrim Ornelos. On-again-off-again student of the Acadamae and practitioner of the Orsini School of Sword-fighting."
Devrim watches the others reaction at Zellara's tale and plea then their agreements in the various ways they express them. He takes a moment to soak it all in before he reaches out to hold Zellara's hand for a moment as he looks very sincere at the fortuneteller, "Firstly, Madam, I offer my solemn condolences at your great loss. This despicable scum, Lamm, deserves all the ire that is about to be unleashed upon his head. I am sure by our combined efforts that justice will be swift this day or one soon. But let me ask, how did you come to know about each of our plights with this man?"
Devrim holds aloft his own Harrow Card, the Keep, "I sense an emerging theme. Well then, since she has left on some errand or another, I suppose I shall have to wait with the rest of you." He takes a seat in one of the vacant chairs around the table and folds his hands together in front of him, "Tell me, does the name Lamm mean a thing to the rest of you?"
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance then, Madam Solace. I have the honor of being called Devrim Ornelos." Devrim says as he florishes a courtly bow to Solace before tendering the others with a brief nod, "Gentlemen." His grey eyes roam around the decor of the fortuneteller's home briefly before falling back to the other occupants. "Since none here happen to bear the name of Zellara then, would anyone care to brave a guess, educated or not, where she might currently be located?"
Devrim checks the address on the card once more as he finds Lancet Street and finally the house of Zellara the fortuneteller. As he nears the door to the establishment, he catches sight of an imposing masked man enter the building before him. At least this Varisian woman knows someone else who appears he can handle himself. Here I was worried I'd be saddled working with incompetants. Devrim takes a moment before the closed door to straighten his tailored garments then reaches with his right fist to rap upon the wooden door. He waits only a mere three seconds before opening the door and proceeding inside. The combined smell of incense, flowers, and spices tickles his nose as the door closes. His eyes blink a few times in the dream-like haze of the room before sizing up the others in the room. Only one appears readily female and her ethnicality is hard to discern with the veil covering her face. Devrim clears his throat loud enough to draw attention to himself before speaking. "Do any of you happen to be Madam Zellara? I have received quite a strange message from this woman that needs to be discussed in detail immediately."
After fixing the directions to 3 Lancet Street in his mind that the waitress gave him, Devrim heads in the direction of the fortuneteller's home. He stops on the way to waste some time before noon in the Gold Market, examining the various goods and merchant stalls for anything that might catch his fancy. He spends some time at Tiguan's colorful pavillion, appraising the dubious merchant's magical elixirs. Noon finally draws close as Devrim exits the market without any new aquisitions and navigates his way to this mysterious ally's abode.
The Keep spins back and forth between the fingers of Devrim's left hand as his right is busy lifting the cup of Mwangi Black to his lips which take a slow sip of the potent coffee. The Harrow card's colorful image flips into view and is then replaced by the message penned upon its opposite side. Whoever slipped into my room last evening to deliver this message deserves a stern lecture on personal property and space but at least it appears that Lamm has made his share of enemies. I suppose the others at the least can keep Lamm's associates busy while I force Lamm into a duel. Devrim sets the Harrow card down long enough to sample one of the mornings fresh pastries. Ten minutes later, Devrim wipes the crumbs from his face and downs the last gulp of his coffee. He waves over the waitress, slipping her a whole gold sail before asking her if she knew the direction of Lancet Street and anything about who might live in the third home upon that road. A Varisian fortuneteller angry at a criminal. Somehow, this feels ironic.
Since he lacks servants to wake him up now, Devrim is probably sleeping until an hour after dawn. For the next little bit, he'd be eating breakfast at a local bistro while he planned out his day and methods to clear the mud off his name.
Since they both attended the Acadamae, I'm sure Devrim and Aerodus know one another in some capacity, maybe even went out to get a drink together once in a while. Gods know, they studied hard enough to need it. Devrim might of even put in a good word with a friend of the family to help out a fellow unemployed former student...
Oh Captain, my Captain! I'll be finishing up last bits of Devrim's info today/tonight. @Solace: Right now, Devrim isn't following any particular deity. I'm sure some in his family worship Asmodeus and Nethys but so far, he hasn't found a faith to truely call his own. So he's open to conversion if someone makes a convincing argument and the deity's ideology meshes well with his own outlook.
I'll apply here too. If Devrim isn't selected for CotCT, he should work in RotRL with minor adjustments. Perhaps with a few blown exile from Korvosa for his shaming of House Ornelos.
Forgot to mention I'm EST as well.
Finished up on Devrim's background which can be found on my profile or below. Background: Born into the power and prestige of House Ornelos, Devrim was the youngest child of Navara Ornelos, youngest sister to Toff Ornelos. At an early age, much was expected of Devrim as an Ornelos. His family is one of the prime movers in Korvosa with many of them in high seats of power as advisors, magistrates, and administrators. Somehow though, Devrim excelled at every opportunity in disappointing his House.
His uncle and others in the family pressured him to study at the Acadamae, specializing in one of the schools of magic taught there. His father wanted his son to be strong and confident over being a font of vast knowledge, so he enrolled him in Orsini Academy under its esteemed sword master. Devrim attempted to please them all by studying long into the night at the Acadamae and working the sword forms during all his breaks. This lack of total commitment to his studies infuriated his uncle with Devrim taking many more than one tongue-lashing from Toff. His study of the arcane arts drew the disgust of his father who had less and less to do with his own son as time went on. All this stress on his body and mind would eventually drive Devrim into the use of drugs to ease his troubles. It started off mildly enough as substances that provided a slight hallucinogenic effect to those that helped relax the user. Eventually, it progressed to the point of harder substances such as most recently, Shiver to improve the few hours of sleep he was able to gain a day. His supplier, a scummy criminal by the name of Gaedren Lamm, promised that Shiver would ease his worries with few side effects as Lamm took the steady stream of gold that Devrim placed in his hands. The young noble grew more and more addicted to Shiver as he used an increasingly stronger dose with each use. After a high dose of tainted Shiver purchased from Lamm, the boundaries between dreams and waking, hallucinations and reality briefly blurred for Devrim. By the time he came down from his bad trip, he had accidently slain one of his fellow students at the Acadamae. Officially, he should have been arrested and tried but his family connections were able to have the charges dropped to a mere dueling accident. Unofficially, he was censured by House Ornelos and expelled from its holdings for an unspecified amount of time, in essence banished from his family. The honor and prestige of his rank stripped away from him in so brief a moment, Devrim struggled with becoming clean once more. The final step in his plan to sobriety was to hunt down his own personal demon, personified in his ex-dealer Lamm, and maybe regain a little of his stolen honor in the process.
I'm interested. I'm working on a young noble of the Ornelos House who is a Magus studying at the Acadamae ran by his House. He'll be a recovering Shiver addict that is looking to recover some of his lost honor with his recent plunge into the depths of drug use. |
