Curnach Daveck wrote:
DM Aron Marczylo wrote:
We need to organize. We need to call upon the faiths of Sarenrae, Pharasma and even Asmodeus to face this attack. Archbanker Tuttle and several of his assistants are out pursuing alliances with these other faiths, but even that won't be enough.
I am glad you have finally listened to my warnings- I asked at the Soldado house for such organisation to take place, and I had already warned the guard they'd have an epidemic on their hands. Perhaps if you fools had heeded me sooner, hundreds of lives could have been saved. Curnach says, clearly seething in barely restrained fury, fires dancing in his eyes.
Lets be off quickly, before more lives are lost by the delay...
"I told the Archbanker, but he did not want to do anything, even when things got worse." he says sternly to Curnach. "This plan is my devising and I am paying you all out of my own pocket. I won't get any of this money paid back by the Grand Vault. I don't want another violent epidemic like back in Vudra.
He looks to the dwarf and nods.
"I hope my deity will understand as I do not wish to be mobed by the many blood veil infected out there." he nods as he picks up a spare robe, hoping to change his appearence and hiding his holy symbol "Right, let's get going."
As you all make your way you hear whispers involving the blood veil and there are more people with these horrible rashs and caughing hard. The streets are still filled with talk as many people appear to still be up and moving, trying to get they're daily business done and looking over you all.
As you arrive at Citadel Volshyenek you hear echoes of forcefully spoken, but still just missed words resound off the imposing granite and iron walls of Citadel Volshyenek's outer curstain. Dozens of red-and-silver-armoured guards stand in assembly upon the pitted stone mustering ground here, mumbling in hushed, somber tones. Before them, atop a weathered wooden platform paces Field Marshal Kroft, her eyebrows arched sternly as she momentarily tolerates the crowd's murmurs. Behind her upon the scaffold stand three grizzled veteran guardsmen at attention, as well as an ominous-looking group.
These men wear cowled robes of oily-looking leather, supple gloves and wide black hats. Some grip heavy canes, others dark satchels. Each of them, though, wears a dark-goggled mask tapering to a pointed beak. Among them stand two others. The first is a middleaged gentleman in a simple black overcoat with streaks of white gracing the sides of his short dark hair. He watches the gathering guards with a soft, concerned expression, his hands tightly clasping a heavy-looking doctor's case.
The second figure is an imposing one indeed. A woman dressed in full-plate armour, a longsword and shield at her side and her blank-faced full helm sporting a bright red plume.
The Field Marshal's fierce tone cuts through the rumble of whispers.
"You will escort Doctor Davaulus and his men to their royal duties wherever those might take them. Furthermore, you are to consider orders from any of the queen's new order of Gray Maidens to be as binding as any superior officer in the Korvosan Guard or Sable Company. You are guardsmen of Korvosa. You will not balk. These are dire times and your city needs healers. Your city needs you. Your patrol leaders have your assignments. Dismissed!"
As the assembly ends, the guardsmen gathered in the courtyard break up into groups, many reporting for various duties to they're supiriors whilst others loiter for a few moments to quietly gripe about their new orders. The armoured woman quickly organizes guards, silencing bickering words with harsh commands and assigning orders for the day. All that's missing from that scene is for her to be holding a leather whip with the way she goes on at them.
Kroft begins to head into the citadel with the men all dressed in they're masks and oily-leather overcoats.
