Vizio’s tavern is nothing more than hundreds of other buildings in this part of the city. Obviously closed, upon closer examination it does appear to still be in good repair. There is nothing to suggest anything is amiss as one approaches and upon arriving close to the door you can see Janiven within, walking about straightening up while in the midst of preparing a meal.
As each of you enters, Janiven, who is quite alone, directs you to a chair at a large table she has prepared. The interior of the tavern is solid, but obviously unused and it is evident that Janiven has gone to some effort to clean the place up and make it presentable. She gets each of you something to drink, but politely refuses to answer any questions until everyone has arrived.
Corvus is the first to arrive, and anyone who comes after finds her already there, sitting so as to watch anyone else coming in.
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A well built half elf with ruddy blonde hair walks in. He is dressed plainly in stount traveller's clothes, colored in the green and brown shades of a woodsman. His cool blue eyes survey the room and then lock on Janiven.
"Please excuse the slight delay. This place was a little harder to find than I imagined. I hand't realized the location was abandoned."
He turns to Corvus. "At least it seems that you have arranged for some charming company. I am Sordello. Pleased to meet you."
A young human man carefully opens the door to the tavern, looking around nervously a bit before he spots Janiven. He nods slightly to her and finds a seat at the large table, taking the proffered drink gracefully as he removes his brown cloak to reveal his scalemail and red tabbard underneath. He smiles kindly at Sordello and Corvus, brushing back a streak of bright green hair that stands in contrast to his mostly dark brown locks.
"You know, no matter what I do, it always seems to be the dyed ones that fall over my eyes. Bit annoying, but could be worse. Janiven, I do apologize for my tardiness. Had to help with some healing."
His face turns a bit grim and grey as his says this, his brown eyes dropping sadly as he speaks, "I wish I could say such things were uncommon...but I suppose that's why I'm here.
Bah, but enough of this melancholy," he says in a pleasing and significantly more up-beat tenor, "I suppose I should introduce myself to the two of you I don't know yet. My name's Kleggisnep, good to meet you."
He waves his hand in a common, Gnomish gesture of greeting.
Arriving not long after the designated time, two hooded figures enter the building, one noticeably larger than his more diminutive companion. Looking around the room and carefully ensuring the door is closed, the smaller figure pulls back her hood to reveal the friendly smile of a woman easily recognisable by anyone at all familiar with the Westcrown art scene, as the actress Genevieve Vossare.
“It is nice to meet you all,” she speaks, turning her warm gaze to each of those present, “I am Genevieve, and this is my brother Koveluss.” She gestures to the man stood beside her, before looking expectantly towards his hands.
Corvus watches the arrivals impassively. Almost camouflaged in the dim light, dressed in shades of black and grey, she appears simultaneously immobile and on edge - like a coiled spring.
Noticing Genevieve's eye movement, Corvus too stares at Koveluss' hands...
The cloaked figure raises his hands from within his robes and waves a hand to all in the room. There is something odd about the hand, and as it launches into a few simple signs that are obviously supposed to mean something, it becomes plain. The long thin fingers each have one too many joints. The hand and arm while of a normal hue, shimmer as though covered in tiny scales rather than skin. From under the cowl a feint yellow glow can be seen, and as he pushes the cowl down it all makes sense to anyone for whom it did not already. Here is certainly a tiefling, even if he lacks the typical horns, the rest of his features cannot hide it.
He says nothing but instead moves to pull out a chair for Genevieve, politely accepteing the offered drink, and taking a seat next to Gene after she sits while taking a better look at everyone else. He does not appear to be armed, save for a pair of daggers in his belt.
Janiven greets everyone and as the last arrive she gives an obviously grateful smile.
"Please, have a seat and get to know each other a bit while I finish up preparing the meal. Buisness can wait until after we've eaten."
Corvus glances around the room, giving each person a few seconds of eye contact. Her expression remains neutral.
The look does not appear confrontational but as if she's trying to get the measure of the gathered group.
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Sordello turns to Kleggisnepp, "I am honored to meet a priest of Shelyn, especially here in Westcrown of all places. I can't imagine the local authorities are all that supportive. Myself, I do not primarily worship Shelyn. However, I do hold the practice of her faith in high regards, as I myself have a deep love of music. Your hand signs are odd though, has your faith adopted a clandestine greeting to perhaps avoid alerting authorities as to your activities?"
The priest laughs, one of genuine pleasure and good humor.
"Oh, no good sir, it's a typical gnomish greeting. When you have the number of friends and relatives typical of a gnomish family, shaking thier hands when meeting them could take up most of your day.
"Ah, it appears we're all here. Let us all sing praises for our meal then, or at least Janiven's cooking. For those of you just arrived, I am Kleggisnep, preist of Shelyn, and I am also delighted to meet the lot of you."
He smiles easily, at all of them, even Koveless. He pays little attention to the man's hands and scales. It was little effort on his part, living with his family had gotten him quite used to unique-looking people. It also gave him an appreciation for being the odd man out.
Genevieve gracefully sits in the chair offered by Koveless and takes a sip of her drink, watching the conversation around her curiously.
"You're a priest of Shelyn?" she asks Kleggisnep, sounding genuinely interested, "did you take part in the flower festival last month?"
Corvus sits and listens to the chatter. Her left foot is tapping quietly on the wooden floor - a likely sign of impatience.
Janiven lays the food out for everyone, as they talk. It isn't a feast, but there is enough for everyone and it is filling. After everything is set out she joins you all for the meal. She makes light conversation during the meal but for the most part just watches everyone else as they talk.
(OOC: This is a chance for all of your characters to get to know each other a bit. Feel free to keep posting without any GM inputs for a bit. When the RP slows down or you all are ready to move on I'll continue things.)
Koveless listens intently to the conversation obviously paying attention even if he doesn't say anything. He too seems very interested in the Cleric of Shelyn and smiles a bit as he hears the man talk, the tips of pointed teeth showing through his lips.
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"Westcrown seems a little bit different than what I remember. It's hard to explain. Everything always seemed kind of false and murky here, but now there even seems to be even a bit of tension added to that. Of course it could just be me. My earlier memories were perhaps a bit biased and I am still just getting used to being back in town. At least the authorities seem just as helpful as I seem to recall."
With that, Sordello shows a little bit of a hurt smile and then resumes eating his meal.
At Sordello’s mention of the authorities, Genevieve sends a concerned glance to her brother.
“Things have been troubled here for as long as I can remember,” she says to the half-elf with a grave expression, “I haven’t noticed things worsening, but perhaps the changes have been gradual enough that only fresh eyes can see them clearly.”
"Well, I wasn't involved much in the festival. I only had the pleasure of visiting it for a few hours, most of my time was spent shoring up some of the repairs in the Temple."
Klegg eats heartily of the portions provided, but makes sure to leave a bit until everyone else is mostly finished. His dinners were fairly well secured thanks to being a priest, he didn't know about the others here.
"Well, I've only been in town for a few months, but it hasn't been the best experience of my life. The people here are in bad shape all around, I'm of the strong opinion that people shouldn't be afraid of going about their general lives."
He scowls a bit at this, some of the images of his first few days in the city pass through his mind.
"We see a lot of the injured at my temple, many people are paranoid about going anywhere else for even mundane treatment of wounds. And many of the wounds are not what I would call ordinary."
He stares off into space for a short moment, a haunted look passing over his face.
"Quite," the actress agrees with the half-elf as she raises her glass, "such gifts should not be overlooked."
After setting her drink back down and continuing the meal, she looks back over to Sordello questioningly, "if you don't mind me asking, what brings you back to Westcrown? Your memories of the city don't seem to be fond ones."
Corvus mutters something under her breath, staring at the floor.
Then she looks up as if to say something but instead returns her gaze to the floor.
Kleggisnep looks over at Corvus, a smile playing about his lips as he finishes off a piece of bread. He waits until he is done with it and then speaks.
"Well miss, you have been quite silent through the meal so far. What happens to be your ill that you have with Westcrown. I dare say that our lovely hostess has managed to gather up people who have problems with the way things are run here, and I would be curious to your presence here if you did not."
Genuinely warm eyes seem to find some humor in this meeting of people who have been wronged with the city.
"I would dare say that Janiven probably has her own griefs, but it seems ill mannered to ask our hostess before the rest of us have had our say."
Koveless watches everyone with those softly glowing eyes as he eats. For a tiefling he seems to lack much of the paranoia than many of his 'kin' develop. On the contrary he seems very much at ease. Anyone observing him even casually can tell that there are several points where he seems he would like to enter the conversation, but doesn't.
Janiven breaks a small smile to the cleric at his mention of her. "There are many who have troubles and complaints. We are only a small few."
Corvus looks over at Kleggisnep. "My grief is personal. And it's business. For me, the two intertwine. But I saw it as a private issue, not one for public consumption."
Corvus waves her hand at the gathered group. "I certainly didn't expect an invite to a party."
She looks to Janiven. "If offence was taken, none was intended but I came here to deal with my problem - not to play happy families."
"Not at all," Janiven responds. "I am well aware that your problems are important to you and it was not my intention to decieve you in any way in order to bring you here."
Genevieve looks to Corvus with an open expression, her eyebrows arched, "if we are here to work together in finding solutions to our respective problems, would it not be in all our best interests to get to know one another a little before continuing?"
She looks from face to face before finishing, "I for one, prefer not to put faith in strangers."
"When you get me talking, you just might not be able to shut me up."
Corvus shakes her head slightly and lets out a long sigh. "In my line of work, I tend to be alone a lot. I came here to put and end to a problem. I wasn't expecting a gathering, that's all."
"I'm not against finding out about you all, but I want to know why. I was invited here to help some people out. Are you the one's I'm helping or have we formed our own little gang already?"
Corvus looks pointedly at Janiven.
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"Based on my experience, I doubt we are here to help each other directly. Rather, I would guess there is a congruence of our own agendas that has attracted Janiven's interest. I believe such an arrangement could potentially be beneficial, as long as everybody is forthright and we understand everybody's motives, including our charming hostess'."
Sordello sees no point in further alerting everybody. He makes note of the direction Janiven looked, surmising she either expects trouble or could even have an accomplice hiding in that direction. Over the next five minutes or so, he casually notes areas of possible cover and concealment relative to that direction, along with exits from the room in the event that trouble should come from the area Janiven seems focused on.
Genevieve listens intently to Corvus’ reply, then glances over to Janiven, “Well, I can’t speak for any of the others, but my brother and I were invited here with the suggestion that we may be able to help prevent any further injustices being brought against the people of Westcrown.” She lays a sympathetic hand on the back of Koveless’ arm, continuing in a subdued tone, “I don’t think there is very much that can be done to help our own problem now.”
Kleggisnep nods solemnly at Genivieve's words, "I was invited here under a similar premise. Perhaps you would like to inform us of what it is you have called us here for, Janiven?" He bestows their young hostess with a charming and open smile. "While I am quite willing to learn more about the others here at the table, I will admit to quite a case of nerves as to the matter at hand." He takes a short pull of his drink, eyes filled with good humor still glancing in her direction.
As dinner seems to be wrapping up and all eyes are turning to her with the expectation that she finally offer a little more in the way of explanation, Janiven rises. Walking to the front window she takes a long look out of it before pulling the shutters against the light that is just starting to fade. She locks the door as well before turning back to face the company. Taking a deep breath she begins.
"First, I would like to thank you all for coming. I know that it was a leap of faith for you to do so. I hope that it will be rewarded. Also, rest assured that I am well aware of the time and this should not take long, allowing you plenty of time to get home before sunset."
She takes another deep breath then starts to walk slowly about the room, addressing those assembled in a speach that is as obviously unpracticed as it is sincerely passionate.
"Each of you are here for a singular reason. Everyone here, myself included, has either suffered, or been witness to suffering. I have lived in Westcrown my whole life, and although I love this city, I must admit, as must you, that despite our peace and prosperity, we continue to suffer. Fear should not be an expected part of life, and yet each night brings fear to our doorsteps. Yes, Westcrown has been safe from war and famine for nearly seventy years, and yes, our businesses has prospered—but this safety and prosperity has been bought in the coinage of fear and prayers to Hell. Other lands live free from tyranny. Other cities do not fear the night. Other governments do not cede the streets to monsters of the infernal shadows. Westcrown was once such a place, and she wants to be such a place again. Westcrown is not only her buildings and canals and docks and history—she is also her people. Westcrown is our friends and neighbors, our mothers and fathers, our siblings and cousins, our sons and daughters! With but a small group of supporters and dedicated brothers and sisters, we can earn the trust and admiration of those people. A Westcrown free of these shadowy beasts that stalk our streets is one step closer to a Westcrown free of the devil that is the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune!”
Janiven’s words are, of course, treason—everyone in Westcrown knows a friend of a friend of a friend who was taken away by a Hellknight or executed after a swift trial for speaking less treasonous words than what Janiven has just uttered. Yet here she pauses, perhaps to gauge the reactions of her audience before continuing.
Listening in polite silence to Janiven’s words, the young actress at first nods her head slightly in agreement with the woman’s sentiments, but at the final statement Genevieve’s eyes widen noticeably in surprise that anyone would dare speak such thoughts aloud. Shifting uncomfortably, she finds herself looking nervously around the room for unseen listeners, reminded suddenly of rumours of erinyes disguising themselves as charismatic rebels in order to draw out potential traitors.
Just to clerify, any active sense motive you might make on Janiven finds her very much sincere.
Koveless looks just as shocked as Genevieve does and looks around the room as well. He seems more in shock than anything else, glancing to the others of the group to see what their reaction is. Still, he doesn't look as though he disagrees. Truly there must be a better way to live and who could be more responcible for the present state of things than the ruling families? But to say so out loud... This woman is either very trusting, very brave, or very stupid.
Corvus doesn't lift her eyes from the floor in front of her and delivers quietly, "If words were deeds, this town would be safe to walk at night."
Corvus looks up at Janiven. "And that was not meant as an insult. I speak as I find and we're all either already marked for death as traitors, or we've found a cause that's worth fighting for."
Corvus stands. "If it's the former, let's see how many it takes to bring us all down." Glancing around the room (obviously for dramatic effect), Corvus then returns to her seat.
"In that case, how do we free Westcrown of those shadowy beasts that stalk these streets?"
Genevieve seems to relax at Corvus' remarks, apparently seeing that if this were indeed a trap, they would all likely be dead already.
"A very good question," see speaks quietly, looking over to Janiven, "how does one fight shadows? Is there anyone alive who has even seen these creatures, let alone actually fought them and survived?"
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"My life to date seems to amount to little more than a heap of unanswered questions. Despite all the confusion though, I know I was put on this world to wrest it from the infernal hordes. Until I get answers, I am content to strike the tyrants from beyond. I knew my life would come to this."
Sordello leans back in his chair with a sardonic grin. "So does anybody know where to begin?"
Klegg raises his glass at the end of Janiven's speech, muttering a soft "'here here". Waiting until after the others had some say, his deep tenor rises after Sordello voices his concerns.
"I agree. Much as I would love to add Shelyn's aid to this, I would not have the slightest idea of where to begin. I suppose that's a good thing; I probably wouldn't still be here if I went off by myself against the evils of the city." His eyes lock on their host, still humorous and acompanied by a slight smile.
Janiven smiles a bit, seeing that she did not choose wrong in these people. "I did not ask you here because I already knew the answers," she comments softly, still pacing a bit near the door. "But I do believe that a group of like minded individuals can improve the lives of the people of Westcrown. But what I am speaking of is not revolution... Not armed uprising... But a band of protectors working to win the admiration and support of the citizens by doing good works and providing what aid we can." She glances to the window again, biting her bottom lip before continuing. "The key... Is the fact that Westcrown is ignored by Egorian, the nobility outcasts. As long as we work to win the hearts of Westcrown's citizens and avoid any direct entanglemets with the government, the House of Thrune will continue to ignore what they will iterpret as petty squabbling."
"As for the shadows, I am sure that if we work togeather, we can come up with some action to take against these shadows. And that doing so would be the greates symbol of hope we could give Westcrown."
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Sordello nods in agreement as he listens, perhaps calming down a little bit from his earlier intensity. "The issue with the shadows remains enigmatic. I have spent a lot of my time researching other-worldly phenomena, but still don't understand what is at hand. The people suffer greatly and fear much because of these things. I'd think we need more knowledge, perhaps there is a sage or library with such knowledge."
Sordello looks around once more and then grins as he looks back at Janiven. "While I know you are sincere Janiven, the matter of your interest has still not been addressed. Sooner or later I will need to understand whom or what you represent and what your agenda is."
With that, Sordello casually pulls out a dagger and a small piece of wood he had pocketed earlier and starts to whittle as he waits to hear what everybody else has to say.
Genevieve’s cautious expression remains as Janiven speaks, but as she hears more about the woman's plans her eyes begin to take on a glimmer of excitement. At Sordello’s comment on their hostess’ personal motivation, the actress remains silent, but despite her efforts she does reveal subtle signs of her agreement with the half-elf’s sentiment.
“If only we had a reliable account of these beasts!” she pouts, “I’m sure if we had an accurate description we could at least begin to identify them.”
"We seem to be getting nowhere fast. Does anyone have a plan? Or even half of one?"
Janiven is just about to speak in answer to just that question when she is startled by a
BANG BANG BANG BANG
on the front door. The sudden loud sound in the otherwise soft conversation combined with her proximity to the door makes her jump slightly and turn to face the door with a hand on her sword.
Koveless leaps to his feet just as Janiven turns to face the door, his hands drawing two daggers as he moves to place himself between Genevieve and the door. Ordinarily his reaction might be construed as paranoia, but considering their recent topic of conversation, it's probably justified.
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Sordello tensly looks to Janiven, "Hopefully friends of yours?"
He gets up, moving a few steps towards the door so as to ensure he can help interdict anybody crashing through. His head remains on a swivel, checking the other exits to the room to ensure they remain clear and without sign of activity.
Corvus draws her rapier and moves to a position behind the door. From this vantage point, anyone opening the door would not immediately see her.
She keeps one eye on Janiven.
At the knocking at the door, Genevieve lets out a small gasp, a brief flicker of red light appearing at her throat.
Rising more slowly than her brother, she moves to peer cautiously around his shoulder at the door and bites nervously at her lip while her hands work at the lid of a small metal tube at her belt.
At the pounding on the door, Kleggisnep stands, softly placing his mug back onto the table and putting his hand cautiously to his mace. He quietly damned himself for leaving his glaive back at the temple, but it would have been difficult to hide under his cloak and would have made him more identifiable. He backed up a bit from the door, hoping to make his tabbard and armor a bit less conspicuous.
Janiven moves slowly to a window and peers through the boards. Letting out a visible sigh of relief she moves quickly back to the door, unlocks it, and opens it, letting in a terrified and out of breath young lad of no more than 14.
"They've got Arael!" he calls out before Janiven has even finished closing and locking the door. He immediatly doubles over, his chest heaving interspersed by coughing as he tries desperately to catch his breath.
Janiven's face grows grim as she clicks the lock to the door shut and turns to confront the boy. "What do you mean?" she asks, though it looks like she already fears the answer.
"The dottari nabbed Arael, and the Hellknights of the Rack are trying to get custody of him! There's a bunch of Hellknights on their way here now! I only just made it in here; they've already surrounded us!"
Even as the boy says it, a keen ear can catch the sound of clanking armor from outside.