Kroft's mouth hardens into a line. "Ultimately, Howling Matoska, I serve the city," she says firmly. "But no, Vencarlo is not wanted by the Crown. He's a good friend of mine, one I would not see harmed. But there's been no word from him for some time, and I'm concerned for his safety, trapped as he is in Old Korvosa."
She turns to the rest of the group. "As to the idea of this stranger accompanying you...I can't say I recommend it. I'm naturally wary of unexpected and convenient allies, though he seems to be telling the truth. But all of you have proven that you work best when left to your own, unorthodox methods. I'll not interfere if you choose to bring Matoska here along. Soldado, a final request: please accompany them until they've got a secure way into Old Korvosa. If they decide not to bring along the Shoanti, make sure he takes his leave politely. And thank you. For everything."
Grau gives Kroft a small bow and then, to your surprise, unbuckles his Guardsman brooch and hands it to her. "Thank you, Field Marshall. It's been an honor."
Kroft accepts the badge, gives him a nod, and turns again to the five of you. "I have tasks to which I must attend. Gods speed you in your search; be careful, be courageous, and be smart. It's unclear what the situation on the ground is, and I don't want to lose any more friends. Come back to me or send a message when this is done, one way or another." She gives Matoska a stiff but respectful nod. "Welcome to Korvosa, master Matoska."
Then, saluting you all, she turns and heads back into the keep, the young private anxiously trotting after her. Leaving the five of you alone with Grau Soldado.
Kroft starts visibly when Matoska says that he's looking for Orsini, and glares slightly at Teodor's theatrics, muttering something inaudible under her breath. Aloud, she says firmly, "If you mean Vencarlo Orsini, he does live in Old Korvosa. Unfortunately that while district is under an indefinite quarantine...I'll let the comment about letting the people die pass unremarked. No one can get into--or, more importantly, out of--Old Korvosa, and it's a rough place at the best of times. So I'm afraid you've come here at a rather bad time. Is there somewhere I can tell Orsini to meet you, should the quarantine be lifted?"
Kroft shakes her head in response to Lantressa's question. "As far as I know the Gray Maidens have no access to magic of that order, thankfully," she says. "They've destroyed all the bridges but the Jeggare, and barricaded that one. They're patrolling the river too, at least occasionally, but if you move at night you probably stand a decent chance of getting it under their noses. And I imagine they patrol the north shore far less frequently, since the mainland there isn't part of Korvosa proper. So if you angle that way you might be able to slip out!"
Assuming that there are no other burning questions, Kroft waits until you've divvied up the contents of the coffer and shakes each of your hands. "Thank you for undertaking this task, my friends. As I'm sure you know, it is dangerous...but the fate of many more depend on it. Korvosa will thank you for it one day, I feel certain." She accompanies you as you leave the warded room and start for the exit. Grau Soldado falls in alongside you, and it seems that it's time to start on your journey...until a young woman in a Private's uniform shows up, looking slightly flustered.
"I'm sorry, Field Marshall, but there's, uh...there's a...big...man, here to see you. He's looking for the guard for something? But he seems, uh, kind of like a tough customer, so..."
Frowning, Kroft gestures her aside and precedes you into the yard, where you find a muscular man--Shoanti, to judge by his tattoos and his gear--waiting patiently.
Matoska:
The young woman looks more than a little flustered by your unexpected presence in the yard. "No no, they are--I mean, I am--I mean, we are--what?" she flushes in embarrassment. "I'm uh, I'm gonna find someone else to help you out sir...just uh...wait here, ok?" And she's gone, darting off like a mouse into the inner warren of the fortress.
A few moments later you hear footsteps, and when you turn toward the gallery you see the young woman emerge with a half-dozen others: at the lead are two people in the uniform of this Guard, a man and a woman. He is quiet and watchful, while she--not much older--bears an obvious air of command (and the signs of exhaustion that accompany it). The four at the rear are a strangely motley assortment, though: a young Varisian man carrying rapier and dagger, a rather dirty middle-aged man dressed in threadbare, tattered clothes, a betailed woman in a long cloak and provocative neckline, and a confident young woman with a sword and a rich blue cape. The leading guard regard you warily for a moment, but then speaks.
As Matoska turns his gaze on Kroft and the party, the Field Marshall regards him coolly before breaking the silence. "Greetings, stranger, from a stranger," she says formally. "I'm Cressida Kroft, Field Marshall of the Korvosan Guard. What can we do for you? Private Lilawin here thought you might need help."
Everyone, feel free to give a more detailed/precisely accurate description of your PCs than I did, if you like!
Sorry for the lack of post earlier--weekend got unexpectedly busy!
"I'm not entirely sure that the Commandant is dead," Cristina says grimly. "Rumors are swirling, but...they say the Gray Maidens took him, and why would they take his corpse? Bah, perhaps it's just wishful thinking. As for me, I'm going to lay low for a bit, and then see if I can find some work as private security...perhaps detective work...something in the private sector.
I don't want to chance running afoul of the new administration." She sneers slightly on the last word.
"The Field Marshall's waiting for you at Citadel Volshyenek," Cristina continues, addressing Callie. "There should be guards posted, so I imagine you're expected. Abadar speed your way--whatever this city's up against, it's not good."
I'm going to assume that you head to the Citadel!
The streets seem muted, now, as you hurry to Citadel Volshyenek. Although it's still early evening, people seem to be heading in early and trying to avoid the gaze of stranger on the street, unnerved by the rumors--or are they facts?--swirling through the air. You arrive quickly at the southern end of the isle, and hurry over the causeway to the gates of the Citadel.
A familiar face--Grau Soldado's--greets you when you knock for admittance at the gate. Letting you through the wicket gate, he says, "I assumed you'd be coming quickly. Follow me--Kroft's waiting, and I know she's anxious."
As you follow Grau through the Citadel, the first thing that strikes you is how empty it is--and how unkempt. When you were here recently, it was relatively tidy, but it's clear now that that was merely Kroft and the Guard putting on a good show for you. The yard is empty of recruits training, and small piles of rubbish are scattered throughout it. You pass only the occasional other Guard hurrying about their duties, and dust seems to be gathering in many of the rooms. Grau leads you through winding hallways to what must be the very heart of the keep, and then knocks on a small, unobtrusive wooden door set alone at the end of a hallway.
Kroft herself opens the door. "Ah, my friends. Thank goodness you've come." Kroft looks tired and haggard, and the room behind her seems to be filled with a silvery fog. "Please, come in; we can speak privately in this chamber." As she steps aside, she adds to Grau, "Thank you, Sergeant; please wait here until we are done."
She follows all of you into the room and closes the door. As soon as you step into the room, the mist vanishes; instead, you find yourself in a small, unadorned conference chamber containing a long table, chairs, and a small coffer in the center of the table. Kroft says, "This room is warded--none can eavesdrop on us here, magically or otherwise. So take your seats, and speak freely--I certainly plan to." As you sit, she paces nervously at one end of the room, then turns to all of you and plants her hands on the table.
Get ready for wall-o-text.
"Korvosa is dying. No, strike that. Korvosa is being murdered. Killed by our queen. The evidence you've uncovered that links her to the plague is damning enough, but now that she's disbanded the Sable Company and reallocated our own funding to the Gray Maidens, she's more in control than ever. I dare not move against her, as my guards would be executed by her Gray Maidens to the last fighter before sundown. But she must be stopped. And I know of no one else but you to do this deed.
"Whatever foul magic the queen has wrapped herself in is clearly of the highest order. Endrin's aim was true, and his shot should have dropped her. I had feared he was going to take matters into his own hands like this, but hoped he would find it within himself to find a better route. If only he could have waited.
"You see, just this morning, new information came to me. Vencarlo Orisini’s been one of my most trusted sources of information regarding the public; it’s hard for an officer of the Korvosan Guard to get honest opinions from the citizens, and Vencarlo’s observations on these topics have been a godsend, particularly since the plague started. When the queen quarantined Old Korvosa, I’d feared his messages would end, yet he managed to find ways to smuggle updates to me every day. Recently, he wrote of discovering something of vital importance regarding the queen. He mentions something about dark magic and a pact with a devil, but until the events of this morning, I found his claims difficult to believe. But even more astounding, he hinted he’d found a lead on Seneschal
Kalepopolis, and implied the man might still be in hiding in Old Korvosa!
"That was the last I heard from him. It’s been several days, and I’ve started to worry for his safety. The rumors about riots and gangs seizing control of entire neighborhoods in Old Korvosa are disturbing. Certainly, the plumes of smoke we all see rising from fires on the island are proof that as bad as things are elsewhere, they’re probably worse in Old Korvosa.
"I can see a time in the near future when the Korvosan Guard is disbanded as well. Even now I lack the resources to mount my own investigations. Which is where you come in. Trusting you may have been my best decision over the past several months, for your group holds the possibility of Korvosa’s salvation. I ask you to seek out Vencarlo in Old Korvosa, and to learn more of what he’s discovered about the nature of our queen’s increasingly violent and destructive turns of personality. Ironically, you should actually be safer in Old Korvosa, since the queen’s quarantine has cut off the island entirely, and word on the street is that she plans on leaving it to rot. She won’t think to look for you there if you maintain a low profile and avoid confrontations with the Gray Maidens. Once you contact Vencarlo, we can only hope what he’s discovered will suggest a course of action we can take to save the city!"
She pauses to catch her breath, and hear your thoughts.
Kroft raises her eyebrow and looks busy while Callie takes Korriban into her confidence, but she returns quickly enough. Putting a hand on Korriban's shoulder, she says, "Your friends are right, boy. Rest. Heal. Figure out how you can help your family. but for now, for the next few days at least...don't make a move yet. Not without my say-so. I don't want you dead, too--I've lost too many guards in the last couple weeks.
"And on that note..." She waves the sheaf of notes you gave her. "I'm going to turn these over to an alchemist who's contracted with the Guard before. With any luck, he'll be able to figure out some sort of solution and we can get it out quickly!" She snaps you all a warm salute, and heads out.
Kroft frowns. "No reports of missing people, yet, but I think Lantressa is right--if there is anything sinister going on, it's likely to involve those who are infected anyway. I'm afraid that there's no more information in the ledger that's of any use, to me at least--all it does is list the previous owner of the ship as 'B7' and the cargo. The destination is listed as 'Andaisin,' but I've never heard of such a place."
Frowning, she turns to the manacled elf. "Perhaps our unconscious friend here can assist us in shedding some light on the subject, though..."
Tipping the potion into the elf's mouth, the Field Marshall carefully steps back from the prisoner. The elf swallows, and (as some of her injuries vanish) slowly stirs, eyelids opening to reveal black, pupil-less eyes.
"Wha...Rolthy...am I..." Suddenly becoming aware of her situation, she thrashes and pulls at her manacles. "Arrrrgh! You jerks! You rotten bastards! Lemme outta this!"
Kroft pauses on the side, clearly eyeing you to see if you plan to step in.
Going to have Kroft run the interrogation and support her, or run it yourselves? I'm assuming the latter.
Since no one has posted to the contrary, I'm assuming you're all good with taking the elf to Kroft as a next step!
Having failed to find Ruan Mirukova, you decide to head back to Citadel Volshyenek to check in with Cressida Kroft. Cristina sends you on ahead as she sets to clearing a path out of the house that won't be too traumatic for Ausio Carowyn. People are still avoiding the main thoroughfares of the city, which is lucky, since you're carrying an unconscious, chained woman down them...but a few flashes of the pseudodragon marks in your group quickly clear the way when anyone accosts you. Not far from the Citadel, you pick up an escort of harried-looking Guards who accompany you into the keep--just to make sure, you suspect, that that really is where you're going.
You find Kroft in her office, bent over a book, frowning. She looks up as you push through the door. "Ah! Thank Abadar you're here. I have news, and--" She comes up short as she sees the unconscious elf slung over Riceak's shoulder. "...I take it not everything was well at Carowyn Manor."
Kroft nods at Callie, clearly approving of her mission-focused mindset. "What's next needs to be investigating Carowyn Manor, as Callie says. To put the story succinctly," she turns to Korriban, Teodor, and Lantressa, "Miss Mirukova's younger brother, Ruan, was invited to play at a rather tasteless party hosted by a noble couple named the Carowyns in South Shore. He never came home, and when Miss Mirukova investigated, she found the entire house locked and sealed off. I'd like you three to go with Callie, Riceak, and Miss Mirukova to investigate. I can't spare the officers, what with the plague running wild. This may turn out to be nothing, of course. Ruan Mirukova wouldn't be the first young man to disappear in troubled times."
"That's not my brother," Deyanira says fiercely. "Ruan would not abandon me. Whatever's going on, wherever he is--he's trapped there. It's the only explanation."
Kroft sighs. "Well, I hope you're right--although it may mean that it's worse for him." She turns to the rest of you. "Regardless, we need to make sure that there's nothing untoward going on at Carowyn Manor. Take the time to get any supplies you need, but please get down there and investigate it today." She glances at the corpse on the table. "...I won't tell anyone about this but I'll start making...discreet inquiries. Let me know if you find out anything else about this man or the Physicians."
A few minutes later, Kroft heads out the door and is gone.
You can take the time to buy anything you need, chat, etc., but I'm just going to drop in the next part in case you all decide you don't need to buy anything further.
Carowyn Manor turns out to be a stately, gabled house on Shoreline Way in South Shore. Its mahogany front doors seem to be locked, and no one responds to your knock. The house is surrounded by a high hedgerow, only the very front facade facing the road, and the brass banisters of a balcony rise 15 feet above the front door.
Kroft, who has remained silent for the last several moments as the coins and the dead man were debated, lets out her breath in a long, low hiss.
"Well, I'm glad that you're all so cozy with each other," she says dryly. "It will make the rest of this simpler...to answer your question, Korriban, yes, Miss Mirukova does need more help finding her brother, and I had aimed to deputize you lot to do so. Callie is another one of my irregulars...and quite a competent one. I don't know Riceak, but since Miss Mirukova seems comforted by having him along, I certainly don't object to his presence. Now then..." her gaze hardens, and she strides over to the corpse on the table. She tips the symbol of Urgathoa over with the end of her sword, examining it closely but not touching the dead man with her bare skin. Her mouth wrinkles in distaste, but then she straightens up.
"What you've found here is interesting, but definitely not conclusive. On what grounds do you claim that it 'stands to reason' that the rest of the Physicians are Urgathoans? Verik Vancaskerkin's goons were murderers, but that doesn't make the rest of the Guards killers. This is suspicious, to be sure, but you can't just go accusing the Queen's picked order of plague doctors of all being conspirators without more evidence than this. He could be a defector. An outcast. Even an impostor! You can't know. Not with so little evidence."
She casts her eyes around the room. "Was there anything else in the wreck?"
Sense Motive DC 18:
Kroft sounds like she's half convincing herself, as well as you--she's right legally, but she's got a bad feeling about these "physicians."
EDIT: I forgot...
Callie's Knowledge check:
You know the Rosa in Fiore is a brothel in Old Korvosa--a family establishment dedicated to Calistria, and with a reputation for treating its workers well. Beyond that, you haven't heard much about it.
Deyanira nods quietly. "I'm--I'm not much of a fighter or...anything...but a dancer, really. But if this is how I can find out what happened to my brother, I say we do it."
"Good," Kroft says, clicking out of the room on her boots and clearly expecting you all to follow. "Sergeant Soldado, you're in charge of the Keep until my return. Don't let the Gray Jerk Squad take over."
"Uh...yes'm," Soldado mutters, running a hand through his hair. He's clearly discomfited, but he shrugs at you and walks you all to the courtyard of the Keep.
Kroft leads you away from the Citadel at a brisk pace, turning west at the end of the walk and heading rapidly north through Dockside, dodging pedestrians with ease--not that there are many, what with the plague in full swing. She occasionally covers her mouth and nose with her cloak as she goes, when someone who looks like they might be infected stumbles nearby. As she walks, she says to Riceak, "As far as I know, no, there are no other events that would explain a lockdown like Miss Mirukova is describing in South Shore. That district hasn't been hit very hard by the plague, and we haven't had as many incidents of rioting, looting, and so on. You said that there was no sign of life at all?" Deyanira nods, and Kroft scowls. "Yes, that's strange. Unless they had high-tailed it out of the city, of course--and plenty of the upper crust have--but then why would they ask your brother to play there?" She shakes her head. "No, something's definitely fishy. Ah, here we are." She pulls up short outside a small, two-story house on a side street: Lancet Street, you see by the street sign. She sighs slightly. "Fair warning. These people are...pretty special. But they're some of my most useful private agents, or at least they have been for the past few months. But...well, you'll see." She knocks and, without waiting for an answer, pushes her way in. Following behind her, you see a small front room dominated by a table and chairs. There's a clearly not human woman with long dark hair, dull red eyes, and short horns standing in the corner, a scruffy-looking older man who's incredibly dirty and ragged leaning on the table, and a younger man with a long dark ponytail, gatorskin boots, and lots of tattoos relaxed in a chair. The pseudodragon you saw earlier is swallowing something, but it's seated on the most arresting thing in the room: the clearly deceased body of a man. The dark clothing and the bird-like mask lying on the table leave no doubt as to his identity--this is the corpse of one of the Queen's Physicians!
At 3 Lancet Street:
Majenko gobbles down the offered meat greedily, tearing at it with his claws. Spiderman is bad man, he chimes in, though he sounds cheerful. Worst! Me not liking him at all. He squats atop the corpse's chest and polishes off his treat just as you hear voices outside and a knock on the door. Before you can go over to it, it's opened, and Cressida Kroft enters, followed by three others. One is a short, wiry woman in a dark blue cloak carrying a sword; another is a dark-haired, hazel-eyed man wearing spectacles with a tattoo of butterflies on one arm. Between them stands a young woman, good-looking but clearly worn by grief and simply dressed.
Coming together...
Kroft breaks the silence with a strangled yell and slams the door shut. "What in the hells is going on here?!" she shouts, her sword coming halfway out of its scabbard. "You morons! What have you done?!"
Kroft hears you out patiently enough, though her mouth tightens when Callie lays out the warning signs in Ruan's--and the Carowyns'--disappearance. When Callie finishes, she sighs.
"You always have had a good nose for finding trouble, Callie--even if it's trouble I never asked you to look for." Her mouth twists slightly in memory of your previous interactions. "Unfortunately, there's not much I can do--you're right that the Guards' resources are stretched thin right now, and this is the first I've heard of this particular incident. I'm not comfortable sending you off alone to look into, and given that, I--oh, dammit, not you again!"
The last exclamation is apparently addressed to a dog-sized pseudodragon that has just made a spectacular entrance through Kroft's open window. Apparently it's not just a pest, though, because Kroft is glaring at the creature expectantly rather than shooing it away. It circles on her desk and chirps at her, then settles on its haunches and cocks its head, looking into her eyes. The Field Marshall sighs. "They say it's that important?" The pseudodragon nods vigorously. "Fine. In fact--you know what, tell them I'm on my way." The pseudodragon gives a happy-sounding chirp and takes off again.
Standing, Kroft whirls a heavy cloak onto her shoulders. "Walk with me, you lot. I think I may have just remembered a...resource...that we can lend you to investigate. And apparently I need to go see that resource anyway. Jackasses. This best be important. Would you be willing to look into this yourself under the Guards' aegis, if I supply some support?"
3 Lancet Street:
Just as Korriban finishes speaking, Majenko reappears through an open window, soaring in to land on the table. Saw Kroft lady again! She coming this time, with others! he says in your minds. Didn't feed me this time, though, he adds, sounding morose. She grumpy lady right now!
"Excellent," Kroft says crisply, examining the clay vial briefly before putting it into a drawer in her desk, carefully nestled in felt wrappings. "We'll administer this to someone who's contracted the blood veil and see if it makes any improvement. If not..." she glances darkly at Vendra.
The Field Marshall listens with interest to Korriban's proposal, her lips quirking slightly. "Is that what she proposed? Hm." She returns to her desk, and begins to fill out some paperwork as she talks. "The idea's not without merit, Korriban, and I'll take it under advisement. But remember that you need to trust a good informant--trust them not only to give you good information, but to work on their own. You can't be holding their hand the entire time." She seals the order and hands it to an attendant, who departs with a quick bow. "And in any case, remember it's not me you have to convince! Ms. Loggari will go before a judge, same as any other perp. I've got nothing to do with the sentencing...but I'll try to put in a word with Zenobia for your proposition."
She gives you a nod, then turns to some other paperwork. Realizing after a second that you're still there, she looks up and says, "I've nothing further for you--if there's nothing else, you're dismissed!"
It's a couple of days before you hear anything further...
Three days here pass without incident...you can do whatever you want within this time, though the city has a curfew and movement between wards is strictly limited after dark. If no one has anything pressing, I'll move us forward tonight/tomorrow morning!
The three of you--Teodor, Selawyn, and Korriban--let the thug hang onto Vendra, at least for the moment, and frog-march the perfumer through the rapidly emptying streets to Citadel Volshyenek. You're granted entrance immediately, and after only a few minutes' wait you're led into Kroft's office.
The world-weary Field Marshall looks up as she hears the door open. "Oh good, you're--back...?" She stares at the group of you, and her lips quirk. "Well...I take it the cure doesn't seem to be effective?"
Once you've told her what happened at the perfumery (or enough to give her a picture, at least), she nods, frowning. "Alright. I'm glad you brought Ms. Loggari here in to me--but we're going to need some proof that this cure she's been selling is fake. If it is," her voice hardens, "then there will certainly be...heavy charges laid against her." Vendra keeps her head down, eyes lowered, not challenging or resisting anyone.
Kroft glances back to you. "Did you manage to obtain any of this so-called 'cure?'"
"I'm inclined toward Lantressa's feelings," Kroft says dryly, "But best to be safe. If you've no further questions, then off you go--just let me know what you find out and how it goes."
Once you've taken your leave of Kroft, the four of you make your way north up the island toward the Heights. Korvosa is noticeably quieter than it has been in the past few weeks, and the cool, dry breeze swirls clumps of discarded paper and other refuse about the streets between hurrying pedestrians.
You find see evidence of the shop you're looking for long before you see the shop itself. A line of Korvosans stretches for nearly four blocks to the south, people crowding each other somewhat as they jostle and shift restlessly in place, but otherwise behaving in a relatively orderly fashion. The shop itself is the one that Lantressa recognizes: purple-tinted windows, purple curtains, purple everywhere, basically. A new (and rather hastily made, by the looks of it) banner swoops over the entrance, proclaiming in tall purple letters: "Lavender's Luxurious Liniment: Either You've Got It, or You've Had It!"
Hasn't quite been 24 hours, but I'm posting now while I have time. Thanks for the update, Teo!
"She's right in her office, uh...ma'am," the guard says to Lantressa, looking a little uneasy. He seems to take comfort when Korriban, Teodor, and Selawyn show up. "This way, please." He leads you through the courtyard into the keep, and thence to Kroft's office.
The Field Marshal is pacing about her office, examining several pieces of paper. "Ah, good," she says, sounding rather distracted. "Thank you for coming. I have a task for you: someone claims to have discovered a cure for blood veil, and I need you to investigate it. It is more than probably a fraud, but that Dhatri insists that someone look into it just in case. Apparently she's been selling it to people and making gold hand over fist. The woman in question is the proprietess of a shop in the Heights...let's see...'Lavender?'" She checks the name on a piece of paper on her desk. "Yes, that's it. Sound like something you can manage?"
"Indeed," Kroft says when Korriban mentions not keeping anyone, "the others should be arriving any minute now...ah, that will be them, I imagine." A knock on the door prompts her to open it, and a rather strange and motley group trickles in over the next several minutes: clergy of a wide number of faiths in Korvosa, including the Iomedaean you spoke to at the Pantheon of Many, leading a group of the goodlier faiths from that temple. The clergy of Shelyn and Pharasma are also present, and you spot Leroung there in his black-and-scarlet robes; he smiles and inclines his head toward you when he catches you looking at him. At some point over the several minutes it takes for all of the priests to filter into the room, Ishani seeks out Teodor to request his vestments back. Lialda enters and pats her adopted son on the shoulder as she passes, remarking wryly, "Quite a crowd."
Kroft approaches the rest of you. "Thank you for your help in setting this meeting up, all of you. If you'd like to stay you're more than welcome, but I'm afraid most of the meeting will be logistical details; important work but hardly the sort of minutia that you're used to attending to."
Will you stay for the meeting, or head off to perform other tasks?
I think Lialda was planning on coming under her own steam, actually--but that's just my recollection.
Kroft looks up as Korriban hails her. "Ah, you lot. I'm glad to see you! And you must be...Father Dhatri..." Her voice falters as she takes in Ishani's tattered appearance.
"Forgive me," the priest says quickly, "but there was a minor mob up near the Grand Vault...Teodor here very kindly offered to change clothes with me to avoid me having to run any risk of injury."
"Ah. I see," Kroft says simply, giving Teodor a nod. Turning, she continues into the Citadel, and you fall in step behind her. "Welcome to Citadel Volshyenek, Father Dhatri. I'm pleased to meet you at last. I'm sure that you, I, and the clergy of the other faiths coming today will have much to discuss...but in the meantime, I should introduce the whole lot of you to 'those guys,' as you called them."
She leads you into a spacious conference chamber in which the masked men and the middle-aged one who stood by her on the platform are already waiting. "Doctor Davaulus," Kroft says simply, "these are some of my...special citizen agents, who help the Guard out with particularly difficult or unusual matters. They were invaluable to me during the riots. Korriban, Selawyn, Teodor, Lantressa...Father Dhatri...this is Doctor Reiner Davaulus, leader of the Queen's Physicians, which she has kindly dispatched to help the citizens of Korvosa battle this so-called blood veil." Kroft seems on edge, though she is, as always, polite.
Doctor Davaulus steps forward with a soft smile and shakes each of your hands in turn. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintances," he says in a soft, clipped accent that speaks of an upper-brow Chelaxian heritage. "My men and I are happy to provide as much help as we can, to ease the sufferings of Korvosa in this trying time."
Ah, the fraught social life of a Chaotic Neutral cleric of the end-times.
Kroft laughs at Korriban's question. "I'm the Field Marshall of the Korvosan Guard. Days off aren't really my thing, Korriban." Turning more serious, she leads you out of her office and into the dusking courtyard of the Citadel. "Regardless, I'd welcome priests of any faith that is willing to help--and perhaps you're right, Lantressa, later in the day might be better. I'm most interested in speaking to Father Dhatri, though, as the one who sounds like he has some sort of idea...since you know the fellow, please make sure he gets here. What shall we say to...one o'clock?" She gazes off into the distance for a moment (presumably reviewing her schedule) then nods firmly. "Yes. One should work well. I'll dispatch a messenger to this Leyli at the Pantheon of Many tonight, so that she knows to encourage the others to come. In the meantime..." she gives you a wan smile as she reaches the gates of the Citadel. "I'm going to go home and get some rest. I recommend that the rest of you do the same." With a firm nod, she wraps her cloak around her and heads into the night, leaving you to your own devices.
Any plans before heading your separate ways for bed?
Kroft laughs slightly--though it's not a particularly amused-sounding laugh--at Korriban's questions. "How many different leads can you keep in your head all at once, boy? Tallak has revealed little, but you'll be pleased to know that now that the riots have settled down I was able to get a court date sorted out for him...he, at least, doesn't seem to be of such personal interest to the Queen as Sabor was." Her mouth twists bitterly at the memory.
"As to the others--Vreeg, as the blue one seems to be called, is clearly quite insane, which makes interrogating him...complicated. We consulted a member of the Acadamae, and learned that he is of a subterranean race called the derro. I've...heard stories of them, actually, but I'd always assumed they were myths. Apparently madness runs in the species...anyway, we have been able to confirm that he was some sort of apprentice the necromancer, Rolth, but other than the fact that Rolth apparently has several lairs around the city, nothing. Vreeg and Cabbagehead--which is what the big ugly one calls himself--spent pretty much all their time in the caves where you found them. Cabbagehead is just an imbecile; I suspect ogre blood somewhere in his family tree. He's a patsy."
Straightening up from her desk, Kroft rubs her tired eyes. "So. No, not much truly new with me. I haven't gotten permission from the crown from extraordinary powers in case this plague does break out, but they said that it's 'under advisement, and will receive a response shortly.' So...hopefully something will happen there."
As she wraps her coat and cloak around her, she adds, "I'm curious about this Father Dhatri and what he's planning; do you think you could bring him to my office tomorrow morning? I'd appreciate the chance to consult with him on his plans, should this plague spread."
Heading back north to Citadel Volshyenek, you cross the bridge into Korvosa proper. The sun is beginning to sink over Conqueror's Bay as you cross over the threshold of the Citadel and make your way to Kroft's office. The Field Marshall is in her office, still reviewing reports from her Guards.
"Ah, you lot," she says dryly when you enter. "I received your pseudodragon. An unusual method of sending a message. It was slightly jumbled--something about creepy creatures, and dead people, and the toy store. And it seemed to expect feeding afterward. What's the latest with you?"
Kroft sighs heavily when you finish your news. "Of course...if it's not one thing, it's another." She stares distastefully down at the box you've brought. "Get this out of here--I don't have any means to contain a contagious disease like this. And I concur with you, Doctor--something will have to be done, and soon. I'll send teams out to scour the shorelines for any boxes that may have washed up and been missed, and I'll send some men into the communities in those areas to see if they can find out anything about such boxes turning up in people's lives lately, or anyone being sick. Unfortunately I'll have to contact the Queen to get any extraordinary powers to deal with the sick...but hopefully even Her Majesty will see the gravity of the situation." Kroft's mouth has a bitter twist to it.
"If you want to take this box to the Vault of Abadar, be my guest--it's likely the best place to keep such a thing in isolation. I can send some of my men to the toy store to investigate that end of things. Where was it, exactly?"
"Oh, and this note came for you earlier today...I was going to send a runner out tonight." She passes a note over to Korriban.
Inside the note:
To the good Korriban, Adoros, Teodor, et al.: Greetings! I hope this note finds you well. I'm not normally one to reach out to a friend in need like this, but since Korriban has been training with me for some time now, and you all handled yourselves so well in what I've seen you do so far, I thought that you might be able to help me with something that's come up in the running of my business. Please come as quickly as you can, and bring along any friends whom you can trust. It's quite urgent.
Yours in solidarity,
Vencarlo Orsini
"If there's no other news, you're dismissed. Thanks for the tip," Kroft says, clearly already becoming mentally lost in planning for the containment of the disease.
The weight seems to be on the side of taking this to Kroft...so that's where I'm going to go! You can always head on to the Vault and toy store afterward...
As you head back into the city from Trail's End, the box burning a hole in your collective pocket, the sun begins to sink in the west, backlighting the spiky towers of your erstwhile monarch's home in a glorious fall sunset. The streets are mostly quiet, the normal chatter and winding-down of a peacefully concluded Sunday filling the air. You turn south once you're in the city, and head for Citadel Volshyenek. Dusk is settling as you approach the Citadel, and when Korriban, Adoros, and Teodor flash their Pseudodragon Marks, the guards greet them companionably and usher them inside.
You're kept waiting only a short time before being ushered into see the Field Marshall. She looks (to those of you who've seen her before) better than she has in quite some time: the color is back in her cheeks, she looks well-rested, and she wears an air of easy command, rather than the weariness she so often displayed during the riots.
Her sharp tongue is apparently, however, a permanent fixture.
"Ah, it's my favorite rapscallions again," she says with a wry smile. "It never bodes well when you come to see me of your own accord, now does it? Welcome. And--wait a minute," she frowns, searching her memory. "It was...Selawyn, wasn't it? You did some freelance work with Soldado a while back? Good to see you again." She chuckles. "Although multiple auxiliaries showing up in my office...can't be good. What can I do for you? You're not unionizing, I hope? And who are these others?"
"I'll overlook that comment for now, in light of needing you and being pretty pissed off myself," Cressida growls as you stride rapidly down the hallway toward the exit. "But in future, try to keep a civil tongue in your head. Her Majesty is still our Queen, despite her poor decisions. And a lot more than just the 'haves' are going to get hurt if a riot starts."
Korriban's mention of the Sklar-Quah halts Eats-What-He-Kills's momentum, and both Shoanti look at him with a new, somewhat appraising light in their eyes. "We, too, are of the Sklar-Quah," Thousand Bones says softly, his elderly voice difficult to hear. "But our members are thousands, divided among many families, and I recall no particular one by the name of 'Falko.' It is good, however, to meet a Korvosan with ties to our clan--even if such unusual ones."
Eats-What-He-Kills is less impressed. "Bah! Probably an exile or runaway," he growls. "To be living here, in the filth of this city...I cannot imagine a worse life."
The huge man takes the bag containing Gaekhen's remains reverentially, though. "I have my doubts that you have slain this noble boy's killers. From what I see of your city, blue men and monsters do not walk your streets...except in the guise of normal men. But I thank you for returning Gaekhen's remains to me." He studies the lot of you critically. "If I ever see you again, perhaps it will be in happier times, and with less hostility. But I doubt that. I doubt it much."
Without another word, Eats-What-He-Kills shoulders his way through the door and is gone. Thousand Bones sighs slightly, and, with a simple bow to Field Marshall Kroft and a nod to you, he makes his way more slowly out the door, and is gone.
Kroft collapses in her chair, slumping back almost to the point where her head is hanging over the back. "Well. That was draining." Sitting up, she rubs her eyes, hard. "As if I didn't have enough to deal with...now I'm apparently the Queen's Minister of State, too. At least when it comes to angry Shoanti." Almost as if just realizing that you're still here, she looks up and smiles. "Thank you. You lot did extremely well--again. Almost beyond expectations. Here--I'm used to your successes enough to have already drawn your pay from the accounts." Rummaging in a drawer in her desk, she hands you a bulging purse full of platinum.
The party receives 1,250 gp (250 per player)!
Just as she's about to say something else, there's a frantic pounding on the door. Kroft frowns. "Enter!" A guardsmen rushes in, breathless.
"Field Marshall--" Coming up short at seeing you here, he rushes over to her and whispers into her ear. Her face darkens, then turns thunderous.
"What?! On whose authority?!"
The guard spreads his hands helplessly. "The Queen's herself, Field Marshall."
Striding to her cloak stand, Kroft swirls her scarlet cloak of office off its peg and swings it across her shoulders. "You," she snaps to the guard, "Get an escort ready. And you..." she turns to you. "I want you with me. We may be looking at another riot...the Queen's soldiers just took Trinia Sabor out of my custody, and apparently they intend to execute her as a traitor at midnight. We're going to the Citadel. Any questions? Anything you need to do on the way?"
Kroft nods her thanks to Diamon and Gadriel. "I agree, Sir Diamon. Thousand Bones said that Gaekhen had several distinctive tribal tattoos, and there are unlikely to be any other freshly dead 18-year-old Shoanti in the Dead Warrens today. The lair itself is an old network of caves--Thousand Bones believes it to be an ancient Shoanti burial chamber--under Korvosa's Gray District, in Potter's Ward. We have the man who sold Gaekhen's body in custody, and he said that he delivered the corpse to a caved-in mausoleum there, near the southern edge. There's a headless statue of a sword-wielding gargoyle nearby, apparently, so it shouldn't be too hard to find. That'd be the best place to start your search."
To Gadriel and Adoros, she adds quietly, "Do your best with the others--and let me know how it goes."
Returning to her desk, she nods curtly at you. "Go...and this time, let me know what happens before the next day, eh?" She softens the words with a smile and a quirked eyebrow before turning to the parchments that litter her desk.
Adoros, if you want to ask any questions, we can retcon those in--in the meantime, the post moving you back to Lancet street will be up shortly.
Though Kroft scowls initially at the idea, her face softens as Adoros explains his thinking. By the end, she just looks tired, and she scrubs her hands up and down her face. "Gods above, Adoros, I'm sorry for snapping at you. I do understand your concerns, and you're right that the Crown is strong. But I don't think that Her Majesty is pursuing any kind of vendetta--what could there possibly be, to set her against a nobody, a lowly painter? They didn't even move in the same circles. I've heard it said that King Eodred fancied Sabor, which may well be true, but his fancy extended to most of the pretty young women in Korvosa; I can't imagine that the Queen would have taken such enormous exception to this particular woman.
"But regardless...we must hold a trial for Trinia Sabor. We will have to ensure that it is a fair trial, and we will have to try to make sure that it's a public one, but we cannot do otherwise. The moment we begin to let go of our hold on due process is the moment that we slip into the worst depths of anarchy and lawlessness." She looks from one of you to the other, almost pleading. "Please help Korriban and Teodor to see this. I don't want to have to send guards to retrieve Sabor from you, but I will if I must. I hope you understand, I have no other choice. Sir Diamon, if you would go with them to help ascertain the truth of their and Sabor's claims, I would certainly appreciate it."
"However..." she adds, turning to Thousand Bones, "that is not actually the reason I summoned you, Sir Diamon. You see, during yesterday's riots, a crowd of hooligans took advantage of the chaos to do a terrible murder. They killed a young man named--Gaekhen? Am I saying that correctly?" Off Thousand Bones's nod, she continues: "Gaekhen, one of Thousand Bones's own grandsons, was killed by this offshoot of the mob yesterday. It's an act that shames Korvosa, but there's worse still. Thousand Bones, if you would care to explain?" The old Shoanti clears his throat and steps forward, gazing around the group with his queer, milky eyes. When he speaks it is with an intensity that suggest barely suppressed fury.
“My people have worked hard to understand yours, yet it seems each day we see new examples of how your people work just as hard to foster old hatreds. My grandson is dead, beaten to death by cowards in your city street. I do not blame you, yet still Gaekhen is dead, and my son and his kin are not so forgiving as I. They wish to return to the Skoan-Quah in the Cinderlands, to join with the Sklar-Quah and rally to war against Korvosa. This would be disastrous, for both our peoples. Amends must be made.
“Our ways are not as yours. If a body does not go whole to the fires of the gods, the smoke of a warrior’s spirit cannot rise to the Great Sky. If I could send Gaekhen’s body to the Great Sky with honor and dignity, his father and brothers would listen to me and stay their wrath—the talks of peace between my people and yours can continue. But he was not just murdered. His body was taken from the scene of his death, sold by a peddler of corpses to a necromancer named Rolth, a criminal to both our people. I have spoken with the spirits, and they have revealed to me that Gaekhen’s body has been taken to a place below your boneyard, a place the spirits call the Dead Warrens.
“With this knowledge, I could surely lead a group of my finest warriors into your boneyard to retrieve Gaekhen’s body, but this would be seen as an act of aggression by your people. No, it falls to you to make amends for what has been done. You must bring me Gaekhen’s body, lest we be forced to recover him ourselves. And although it pains my heart to say it—we will not be gentle if it comes to this.”
Having said this much, Thousand Bones nods curtly to Kroft and sweeps out of her office, his bearskin pelt sweeping the ground behind him. Despite his apparent blindness, he does not stumble or misstep.
After a brief moment when everyone realizes they've been holding their breath, Kroft turns back to you. "Well, sorry about that," she says gruffly. "But still, I can't blame him. He's right--someone connected with Korvosa needs to take care of this, and while the Church of Pharasma would normally be the obvious choice for this, but after your recent successes...I had hoped you might prove amenable. There's another hundred crowns in it for you, if you can defuse this situation," she adds, with a tight smile. "Any questions?"
"What? Oh, yes," Kroft mutters distractedly when Adoros raises his concern about the others. "Adoros, Gadriel, this," indicating the dwarf, "is Diamon Erlatt, a paladin of Abadar kindly sent to me from the Church to aid in a...delicate matter. And this is Thousand Bones, a Way-Keeper for the Skoan-Quah Shoanti. He's the one who has brought the delicate matter to my attention. Diamon's integrity and dedication to the law is beyond question. As for Thousand Bones, I've known him for several years now, and I've never found him to be any less than trustworthy. Besides, I rather think the leader of Korvosa's Shoanti knows which side his oliphant ear is buttered on when it comes to me, eh?" she adds with a snort. The elderly Shoanti man nods slowly, his eerie white gaze moving from Kroft to Adoros and Gadriel with a strange intensity.
When Adoros is finished telling his story, Kroft's expression darkens perceptibly. Turning, she stalks back to her desk, leans on it, and frowns at them. "You questioned. She's innocent. You know what the Crown will do." The sarcasm fairly drips from her voice, and then she slams a palm onto her desk, rattling the parchment there. "Dammit, Adoros! You're special agents for me; you're not supposed to be judge and jury, too! From the others this sort of thing might be normal, but I thought you at least had more sense. I will worry about ensuring that Sabor gets a fair trial. That's my job. You?" She stabs at finger at the blond man's chest. "Your job is to go out, apprehend targets that are too specialized or sensitive for my Guards, and get them back here. You don't take the law into your own hands!" She shakes her head, nostrils flaring, clearly disgusted. "Scattered coins, Adoros, I half-expected something like this from the others, but I thought at least you would have more sense!" She pauses, then meets your eye. "I need you to bring her back here. I have another assignment for you all--and I'm damned tempted not to use you, but at the moment I have no one else to turn to--and I'll give it to you, but on your way to fulfill those duties, I need you to bring Sabor here. I will keep her safe, and she'll get a fair trial. Zenobia Zenderholm herself will preside--you can't ask for a better interpreter of the law."
Any further attempts to convince Kroft to go along with your plan for Sabor are going to need Diplomacy checks.
Knowledge (Local) DC 15 (DC 10 for Diamon):
You've heard of Zenobia Zenderholm; also known as the "Hanging Judge," she's a mid-ranked cleric of Abadar and one of the most fearsome arbiters in the city. For all her terrible reputation, she is supposed to be one of the best arbiters at determining truth or falsehood; she just has a tendency to punish crime...excessively, some would say. She has a soft spot for those who commit crimes out of desperation.
When you arrive at Citadel Volshyenek, a Guard takes you straight to Kroft's office. En route, you notice that despite the city's relative calm following yesterday's riots, the guards seem jumpy and on edge. There seem to be more on the walls than usual, and one group of sergeants hurries past you in the hall, and you catch a murmur in their conversation that sounds like "...blasted barbarians are stirring up more trouble than they're worth..."
You find Kroft closeted with two people you've never met before: one, a dwarf carrying several sturdy looking weapons, wears a breastplate inscribed with the holy symbol of Abadar, his colors marking him out as a member of the Church. The other is a tall, rail-thin, aged man, who leans on a walking stick made of some massive femur and topped with a bird-like skull. He wears a shirt hung with various small bones, and has warpaint on in the form of a skull. He turns to you as you're announced, and looks at you with blank white eyes. A red razor crow perches on his shoulder, and turns its baleful eyes toward you as well.
Kroft turns to you as you enter, her expression betraying a strange mix of exasperation and relief. "I send you off to catch a fugitive and you don't respond for eighteen hours?! It's about time you..." She pauses, suddenly, taking you in. "What's happened? Where are Korriban and Teodor? What happened to you all last night? Are they all right?"
Diamon:
Yesterday was a bad day for you at the forge; the riots that swept Old Korvosa kept you from doing much besides shuttering yourself in your quarters and trying to avoid attracting any attention. It was after you had already started to get ready for bed, late in the evening, that a low-ranking priest of the Church had appeared, knocking on your door with an urgent missive. The Church, it seemed, had been asked to lend its assistance to Field Marshall Kroft in a matter of some delicacy for the sake of the city; and, the higher-ranking paladins and clerics being engaged in keeping the riots busy, they had elected to send you, an outsider that they knew to have a good heart, a strong arm, and powerful faith.
You haven no idea what Kroft wants; you arrived punctually for your meeting, and she introduced the tall, elderly man as Thousand Bones, a Waykeeper for the Skoan-Quah of the Shoanti. You'd barely gotten past introductions when a Guard announced "Adoros Porthis and Gadriel." The pair turn out to be an even stranger sight than the old man: a tall, pale, good-looking man in chainmail who carries himself with an air of command, and a tiny urchin girl, barefoot, with ragged hair and strange eyes, who looks around at everything as though seeing it for the first time. The girl has a tiny monkey on her shoulder.
Kroft turns to them as they enter, her expression betraying a strange mix of exasperation and relief. "I send you off to catch a fugitive and you don't respond for eighteen hours?! It's about time you..." She pauses, suddenly, taking them in as though there's something strange. "What's happened? Where are Korriban and Teodor? What happened to you all last night? Are they all right?"
From the questions she asks, it seems that there can only be one possible thing she's talking about: these two must have been sent off to catch Trinia Sabor, alleged poisoner of the late king!
"This thing has exploded pretty quickly," Kroft replies. "And frankly, Sabor would be dead by now if she'd wandered onto the streets. My hope is that she may be holed up at home, since the mob doesn't know where that is...yet. Start there. If she's not there, her neighbors may know where to look; we got the address from a Guard private who lives in the same building, and said she's pretty well known to the residents."
Distantly, the group can "hear" Majenko's reply. "I come, I come. Many two-legs flood our aerie, and the flight is regrouping. I come."
Kroft snorts with grim mirth at Teodor's language, but holds up a hand when Korriban insinuates that Queen Ileosa has ulterior motives. "I doubt this is a setup, Korriban," she says sternly. "The Queen is a young and inexperienced ruler, and I suspect that has far more to do with recent events than any malice or manipulation. This information should never have been presented to anyone beside myself and Commandant Endrin of the Sable Company, but the Queen felt it best to inform all the Guard officers. I think that idiot castle guard's suicide shook her, and Merrin." She sighs heavily.
"Sabor was in the castle at the right time to have, perhaps, poisoned the king. Apparently she was painting a portrait of the late King and spent a number of hours closeted alone with him. The castle employees describe her as a slim young woman, perhaps twenty-five, with short blonde hair and large blue eyes." Turning to Korriban with barely disguised irritation at his obsession with Tallak, she adds, "The man's been a hard nut to crack, to be sure--he's clammed up. But frankly, given his containment, I have bigger problems at the moment, and they grow larger every second." She glances outside, clearly eager for you--and herself--to get underway.
Korriban, if you're wearing the boots, they count as part of your outfit, so there's no increase to weight!
Just as Adoros makes his remark about the mob, there's a sharp rap on the door, and a uniformed member of the Korvosan Guard opens it and strides in, taking in the house warily. He's followed shortly by Cressida Kroft herself, in full uniform and armor--something you've never seen in your meetings at Citadel Volshyenek. She shakes her head wearily as she enters and takes off her helmet, putting it on the table. "The streets are starting to go crazy out there," she says grimly. "Ah, good. You're all here. My apologies for arriving so suddenly at your home, but this event would brook no delay. The mob outside is close to turning ugly."
Asking permission with a raised eyebrow, Kroft pours herself a mug of water from a nearby jug, and sits at the kitchen table. “You’ve doubtless heard the stories that the king’s killer has been named. Yet there’s something more going on here, I’m afraid. Queen Ileosa could have quietly had this Trinia Sabor arrested at any time, yet the way she revealed the information to the city seems to me like she wants the riots to come back. Certainly, with the mob and the Hellknights out on the street, the girl doesn’t stand a chance at a trial—they’ll lynch her the moment they find her. And even if she did kill the king, mob justice isn’t the way. Worse, if she’s innocent, the real killer can use this distraction to throw us off the trail forever.
“Before Trinia is executed, we need to be absolutely sure she did this thing. And that means we need to catch her before the mob. We know where she lives—a flat in Midland at 42 Moon Street—but soon, so will the mob. The Hellknights don’t seem to care as much about catching her as they do about containing the mob—something about the 'order of law' makes that a greater priority for them to contain than a possible assassin." Kroft snorts contemptuously, and you remember her vicious argument with Madrayne Vox. "I can’t say I disagree completely, but the problem is, the Hellknights are only making it worse. The mob’s covering most of Midland now, and Trinia’s flat is near the middle of the mess. I’ve got all available guards at work keeping things from getting any worse—and if I were to send them into Midland, they’d trigger a riot.
“I’m sure you can see where this is going. I need you to get into Midland, find Trinia, and bring her back to me so we can deliver her, safe and sound, to somewhere where she can be interrogated—preferably with magic, so we can be absolutely sure about her role in Eodred’s death. Get in there, catch her, and get out without letting the mob get its hands on her. I’ll have agents and officers nearby. If you can get her to one of them, we’ll be in the clear. Any questions?” She looks around, clearly drained, but alert and expectant, awaiting your answers.
Kroft chuckles in delight. "Well, that all sounds fine. Hopefully it'll throw them off the scent." Standing, she smiles. "I don't want to detain you unnecessarily...if there's nothing else you'd like form me, you're welcome to head home. I appreciate having this opportunity to get your thoughts."
Kroft chuckles at Teodor's remarks. "May you live in interesting times if that's what you wish, my friend. Not so for me--I'd be quite happy to die, boring, in my bed. But you're right; there's nothing going on here we can't handle, if need be."
When Korriban asks his questions, she frowns slightly, leaning forward and lacing her fingers as she rests her elbows on the desk. "I'm afraid we aren't going to be able to help you much in the search for your parents, Korriban--Korvosa has a thousand orphans, and the Guard has more pressing concerns than trying to track down 20-year-cold trails. I might be able to put you in touch with some private investigators, if you wish, but they typically charge a pretty penny...and few of them are honest enough to tell you when they know they've hit the end of the trail.
"As for Guards at your home..." she leans back slightly and grins. "You're not wrong to worry, and I could spare a few for a couple of days--longer if we found a threat--but do you really think it's worth your time and trouble? Guards may, ah...make some of your family's potential clients a bit skittish." She chuckles, then turns serious. "Honestly, though, I don't think you or your family are in immediate danger. This man showed up complete alone, with no backup--meaning this is either a very loose, decentralized organization, or he's incredibly arrogant. Or both. Either way, I doubt that that many others in the group will be able to discover the details of what happened to him."
Field Marshal Kroft sighs--tired, but not unhappy-sounding--as she sinks into the hard wooden chair behind her desk and pours out enough glasses for everyone. The wine is a dark red, surprisingly good-looking for someone as unfussy as Kroft. She takes her glass up and sips, smiling at you over the rim.
"Go on, sit," she says dryly. "Abadar's scale, you've done enough for one day. How are you finding life as a Guard auxiliary? Exciting enough for your tastes?" She's clearly teasing, but also seems interested in your feelings.
