"Indeed." Laori saunters up to Salvador and loops an arm around his shoulders. The man winces as the spikes on her armour poke him.
"I'll just be spiriting him away, now. No sense in putting him in harm's way any longer." The priestess holds her holy symbol in one hand while speaking a prayer in a harsh, grating tongue.
The shadows swirl around her and Salvador as she completes her prayer. She looks up at the party with a grin.
"See you around~." She giggles before she and the artist disappear into the shadows.
Laori tilts her head at Karri and frowns. "Hey, now, I have a strict code of conduct when it comes to that sorta thing."
"I only inflict pain on those who REALLY deserve it. Namely, those who cross me or my allies." She stands straight up and grins. "Or if they're willing volunteers."
"Otherwise, where's the fun in that?"
Salvador swallows and takes a little step away from her.
Laori stops in a moment, then gives Demitri a sheepish smile. "...right."
"Okay..." She takes a breath and turns back to Salvador, clearing her throat. "So, where'd you get your inspiration for your paintings from?"
Salvador looks around for a few seconds before he replies. "B-before the king died, I-I would... I would have th-these dreams. Dreams of a g-great, blue-scaled being, driving me t-to paint. T-to express myself b-b-better than my own w-words could."
"B-but now... it s-seems my muse has l-left me."
The Kuthite looks down at her feet for a moment, disappointment writ plain on her face before she looks back up at him, smiling. "Maybe you just need a change of scenery, eh? How about I get you back to the mainland, and out of this town?"
Then, she descends upon Salvador in a flurry of questions.
"--about your latest work: "In Chains and Shadow"--what was your inspiration for that?--"
"--your brush technique for "Wasteland" is amazing! Where'd you learn it?--"
"--do you take commissions nowadays? I've got money!--"
She continues onward in this vein. The bewildered artist is hardly able to get a word in edgewise. Eventually he looks over at Demitri with an expression that just screams "HELP!"
Laori absentmindedly nods at Ortik in response. "Mmhm. Yeah." She brazenly walks up to the three paintings hanging in Boule's room and starts taking them down.
"Hey, does anyone mind if I have these?"
GM Rolls:
Perception *Laori*:1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24
DC 20 Perception:
...
...
...wait, is something burning? It smells like something's burning.
Laori's nose wrinkles in surprise. "...also, what smells like smoke?"
Once everyone has had a chance to eat breakfast, the party departs from Salvador Scream's home--first, to make a quick pit stop at Vencarlo's.
Nobody challenges the party as they move. Perhaps it is because of the overly cheerful priestess of pain with them, or perhaps word of their combat prowess without her as spread far enough to dissuade any potential challengers.
Lyla may find a small masterwork rapier in the workshop.
As the rest of the party is waiting for Lyla to return, Laori glances over at Karri--or rather, the scars that adorn her arms. "Those look pretty cool. Kinda messy though--how'd you get them?"
Laori looks up from her prayers at Demitri. "Oh, definitely."
"It's just a little of my lord's grace that I'm using to protect me--" She starts, then abruptly stops as a look of concern and embarrassment flashes across her face.
AAHHH! AFTER 1 AND A HALF WEEKS I'M FREE! IT'S TIME TO POST IN THIS CAMPAIGN!
Oathday, 30th of Pharast, 4711 AR
The day arrives bearing dreary grey skies and pelting rain bouncing off of Korvosa's cobblestones. Whether as an ill portent or simple bad luck, no one can say.
The sound of raindrops falling on the roof of Mr. Scream's hovel is punctuated by the wet, ripping sounds of flesh being torn, followed by breathy sighs, moans, and prayer in a dark tongue.
It appears Laori has secluded herself in the artist's studio, and is... well, lashing herself with her own spiked chain. She's naked from the waist up, and her back is a bloodied mess as she whips herself. Her wounds seem to close as soon as they're made.
She doesn't appear to have noticed that she's making a bit of a racket.
Laori nods enthusiastically. "Yes yes yes. This place ought to be safe enough now--unless you've got somewhere else in mind, I think we can rest here."
Laori lets out a little squeal and jumps for joy. "Yay!"
"So, how soon do you think we should set out? Might want to prepare for a serious fight--from what I've learned, this 'emperor' is charismatic enough to have a bunch of goons on his side. I'd like a chance to at least pray for some new spells."
"Hey, if you're planning on kicking this Emperor's door in and getting Mr. Scream out of there, mind if I tag along?" She bounces on her heels again. "I'd LOVE a chance to help him out--and maybe show the so-called 'emperor' what it means to cross his biggest fan."
"Well, nearest I can figure, this official came by Mr. Scream's home here before I had a chance to meet him." Laori shrugs and sets the piece of cloth aside. "Problem is, I asked around to see where he'd gone off to."
"As it turns out... he's currently the hostage of some twit called the 'Emperor of Old Korvosa'."
"Er--Mr. Scream, I mean. Not whoever his politician buddy is."
You notice the knife in the painting seems to be made of ivory...
"That, and I REAAAALLLY wanted to ask him where he gets his inspiration from." Laori nods before blinking. "Thanks for taking care of Andaisin, by the way."
"Wait here." She turns on her heel and walks deeper into the house. "I've got something you might be interested in..."
A minute or two passes before Laori returns, a strange scrap of clothing in her mailed hand. "I found this down the side of Mr. Scream's bed. It looks like it came off of some official's uniform--does it look familiar to any of you guys?"
DC 15 Knowledge (History/Nobility):
The scrap in her hand bears the colours of the seneschal of Castle Korvosa.
Stepping into the house reveals the place is even filthier on the inside. It appears that although Mr. Scream was an artist with his share of adoring fans, he wasn't exactly skilled with handling money. The front room of his home smells of must and mildew, much of it coming from the mud tracked over the floorboards, as if a small army had marched through the room. To the south stands a single empty set of shelves.
DC 20 Survival:
The muddy tracks were made by six people--and there are drag marks across them. The tracks appear to be several days old.
"See, I came here a while ago, looking for a wanted crook who escaped Nidal. Something about her engineering a nasty plague, ya know? By the time I got here, the plague was in full swing, and I..." Laori sheepishly giggles. "...well, I kinda lost the trail underneath all the blood, guts, pus, and whatnot."
"But it wasn't all for naught--while I was looking for my quarry, I discovered this reeeeeally cool painting on sale in town." She points to a painting on the wall as she leads the party inside. Framed amid a painted backdrop of jet-black chains and cold, grey, hewn stone is a figure swathed in a grey hood and cloak, a bloodied knife in his hand. The figure is carving a symbol of some sort into it's blue-scaled arm, and the blood is dripping onto the cobblestones below.
"I mean--just look at how the brushwork flows so neatly together. And the impressive use of contrast on the arm!" She claps her hands together, causing her chainmail to *clink*. "I just had to know who the artist was, and the vendor was kind enough to tell me. After I paid him a few extra gold pieces to settle his nerves a bit."
"Sadly, I didn't find where he lived in time to meet him."
"Ooh?" Laori leans towards Demitri with interest. "In that case, how about we come inside and you can tell me more? Quite a few unwelcome ears around here, if you ask me..."
The name 'Laori Vaus', surprisingly enough, rings a few bells.
From what word you've been able to pick up on the street, she's a priestess of Zon-Kuthon--but, oddly enough, were she not dressed in her skintight, jet-black & spiked chainmail and bearing His symbol, it'd be easy to mistake her for a priestess of a considerably cheerier deity. Her inflappably optimistic demeanour is rather incongruous for a Kuthite, but she's by no means harmless--she arrived in Old Korvosa from the shadow-shrouded country of Nidal just as blood veil began to spread, and the fact that she's still here and neither afflicted with plague nor slaughtered by cutthroats speaks volumes about her power.
Demitri wrote:
"Too? Why are you looking for him?"
Ortik wrote:
"If your interest in Mister Scream matches ours, then I can't see a good reason for us not to work together. Why do you want to find him?"
"Well, because I'm a HUUUUUUGE fan of his work, really!" Laori bounces on her heels, her black eyes shining with eagerness. She winces briefly as her chainmail shifts against her skin. "That, and quite a few of his art pieces have themes that are central to my faith. I was hoping to buy a few off of him to take home with me."
