13 Desnus, 4708AR, Oathday
Oathday dawns cold and grey, more like to the winter that has passed than the summer that should have nearly arrived by now. Early in the morning a courier arrives for each of you, handing you a note and not waiting for a response before running on. The notes read as follows:
Sincerely,
Janiven
Sincerely,
Janiven
Sincerely,
Janiven
Sincerely,
Janiven
Sincerely,
Janiven
Slipping back into the dim light of an alleyway, she rips open the note with the blade of her dagger and reads it quickly. When she has finished, she smiles. She hadn't realized her reputation would have been made so quickly. She had only been in town a matter of weeks, but she had taken the opportunities given her to harry the local authorities. So far it had only amounted to throwing clumps of mud at Hellknights and running away, but one day ... she smiles, as the centipede curls around her wrist.
Janiven. Had she heard that name? She racked her brain for any information she had picked up about the name, the tavern, even the part of the city mentioned in the note.
Sarien Ruseff stared after the courier for several moments, the letter held almost forgotten in his hand. He received such things as rarely as never and the incident had caught him somewhat off guard.
After the courier had passed out of sight, Sarien looked down at the note. He examined it carefully for a moment, turning it end over end.
Finally, he opened it and read the contents three times, sliding a finger over the writing as he did so. He frowned to himself and tried to think whether he'd heard of either Janiven or Vizio's Tavern.
He'd have to investigate both a little more before this evening, but he was definitely intrigued. Of course, it could be a trap of some sort. On the other hand, it could be exactly what he'd been waiting for.
Kael reads the message again to himself, secretly pleased that someone out there is as proactive as he is, and is allowing him to get in on the action. Apparently his stay in Westcrown will not be as bad as he had previously thought.
With revolution on his mind, Kael finishes his breakfast and heads back to his simple room to ready his gear. He intends to be as ready as humanly possible for the rendezvous tonight.
Janiven is not unknown in Westcrown. She’s worked for several guilds and mercantile interests, sometimes as a caravan guard but more often as a city guide and bodyguard for visiting merchants and business partners that the guilds want to keep out of trouble with local thugs or the shadow beasts that patrol the streets at night. Janiven has a reputation of being a bit rash (for example, she recently dragged her charge half-dressed out of a whorehouse when he refused to head back to a safer part of town before sundown) but quite trustworthy. Every time you've heard her name in conversation, the speaker has had nothing but praise for the woman.
Janiven is not unknown in Westcrown. She’s worked for several guilds and mercantile interests, sometimes as a caravan guard but more often as a city guide and bodyguard for visiting merchants and business partners that the guilds want to keep out of trouble with local thugs or the shadow beasts that patrol the streets at night. Janiven has a reputation of being a bit rash (for example, she recently dragged her charge half-dressed out of a whorehouse when he refused to head back to a safer part of town before sundown) but quite trustworthy. Every time you've heard her name in conversation, the speaker has had nothing but praise for the woman.
Sarien rested for much of the morning, napping after another late night and conserving his energy. After noon, however, he dressed in his laborer clothing and went out to scout out the area of the tavern to get a lay of the land and a good feeling for the area.
He familiarized himself with the streets leading into and away from the tavern so that he had a good idea of some potential escape routes should there be any surprises. After he'd explored the area to his satisfaction he returned to his hut and dressed in his night clothes.
An hour before dusk Sarien went back to the tavern and positioned himself in the shadows of a nearby building to watch for who might arrive.
Sarien Stealth:
Rauno Sense Motive:
Tao Perception:
The man milling about the corner is armed only with a stout club, although your warrior's eye tells you that he lacks the frame to do much damage with it - it's probably just a means of self-defense at last resort. Other than that, you can see the tips of a few scarfs poking out of various pockets, and he wears one loosely around his neck in the Varisian way. He wears a belt pouch, the kind that ordinarily is used to hold money. He meets your eyes with his, and you tip your cup to him amicably.
Sarien paused a moment as the half-orc tipped his cup and then smiled and nodded slightly before leaving.
Vizio's tavern has clearly seen better days. A long wooden bar stands to the right of the front entrance, and runs to the back wall, interrupted only briefly by a space for a barmaid to make their way through. Behind the bar, there are several shelves for spirits, but these stand mostly empty, only a few bottles inhabiting a space meant for many more. An open doorway leads from the area behind the bar to what appears to be (and smells dintinctly like) a kitchen. The smell of roasted meat and steaming vegetables wafts from this room. To the left of the entrance is a great room, filled with tables and chairs of various sizes. The place is empty, save for an attractive woman in loose, baggy clothes who is standing behind the bar.
Greetings, I am Janiven. Thank you for coming. If you'll kindly have a seat, the rest of our guests should be here shortly, andwe can break bread together and discuss our...common interests.
In a calm, unintimidating voice, he says, Hello, my name is Tao.
A lithe, unassuming young man with deeply tanned, weathered skin enters next. Kael gives the room a once over, his eyes stopping to linger a bit on the attractive woman he assumes to be Janiven. Indeed, his guess is correct as she greets him and motions to a table.
"Well met, Janiven, and many thanks for the invite," he says politely, unstrapping his pack and spear and propping them in a corner. He gives a small nod to both of the men seated at the table and takes his seat, throwing off his hood and revealing a short, disheveled coif of thick brown hair that has been long since bleached by the sun.
A thin teenage girl with black hair enters the tavern. Under an odd, bristly vest, she seems to be wearing what might once have been a religious habit or school uniform, but it has been cut off short to serve as a tunic; beneath it, she wears men's trousers stuffed into the tops of her shoes. Although she looks like a runaway, she doesn't move with any of the timidity one usually sees in them, instead seeming to possess a confidence and boldness that belies her vulnerable appearance. She seems to be wearing an unusual bracelet around her wrist; just as you are taking a closer look, however, the bracelet twitches and runs quickly up her sleeve, revealing itself to be a centipede.
A few minutes after the girl enters, a dark figure steps through the door and pulls it shut behind him. Dressed all in black, he wears a cloak with the hood pulled down over his head so that even his face is in shadow.
He stops as he enters the room, head turning slowly to examine everything within, beginning with the doorways, then on to the four others who had already entered before finishing on Janiven.
He nods to his host and then slowly crosses the room and enters the dining area. He paused to examine the table and the walls, and finally moves to a seat where his back can be to a wall. There he allowed his cloak to fall open, revealing a slender, almost wiry figure. He is dressed in a loose black shirt and tight black trousers, a rapier hanging from the belt. His gloved hands, which had been holding the cloak close about his body, lower the cloak's hood to unveil a not-unattractive face and close-cropped black hair of a young man in his early 20's who otherwise looks absolutely ordinary. Unfastening the clasp at his neck, he removed the cloak and folded it carefully. On his back there's a small black backpack to which two shortspears have been strapped. He shrugged out of the pack and set it down on the floor beside the table, drapping his cloak over it.
"Good evening, gentlesfolk." He said softly with a slight smile. "You may call me Sarien." He sat down and tilted the chair back on its rear legs, arms crossed over his chest.
Thank you all for coming, Janiven says, scanning the room slowly. Her eyes rest on each of you in turn, seemingly taking measure of you; your capabilities, your trustworthiness, your temperment. She takes a deep breath before continuing. As I have mentioned, I have a meal prepared for us - come, let us break bread together and get to know one another more before we speak of darker things.
She moves into the kitchen, briefly rattling some dishes before emerging with a platter of roasted meat and steamed beans. Would anyone like ale? I have some here - the tavern is not open yet, but we are beginning to get supplies in. It's not the best ale in Golarion, Cheliax, or even Westcrown, but even so it should serve to quench your thirst. To those who request ale, she serves a mug, which is passing fair - about as advertised. Finally, she sits down to eat with you. The meal is satisfactory, but not exceptional. Every few minutes, Janiven glances out the front window.
Sarien accepted a mug of ale gladly, and was pleased at the flavor. It may not have been the best but it was better than he was accustomed to. Nevertheless, he drank sparingly while he helped himself eagerly to the meal, piling a heap of meat and a large spoonful of beans onto his plate and eating hungrily.
Sarien spoke as he ate, unconcerned about appearances.
"I recall seeing you both this morning," he mumbled around a mouthful of food, lifting his fork and gesturing to Tao and Rauno. "Caution becomes you. Are you newcome to Westcrown?"
"You keep quite a keen vigilance for someone who is hosting us with such harmless pleasantries. May I inquire as to what troubles you, m'lady?" Kael asks sincerely.
Freya eats her meal appreciatively, if not necessarily like someone unaccustomed to enough food, certainly like someone unaccustomed to sitting down to a hot meal in comfortable surroundings. Like their hostess, she keeps an eye on the entrance and front window. Hearing Kael's question, she scoffs quietly. "What doesn't trouble you?" she asks under her breath without directly addressing the other man.
Tao raises a hand in gesture to decline the ale, Thank you, but I must decline the offer of ale. When able, I avoid partaking of anything that might cloud my judgment. I gladly accept the offer to break bread though.
Tao patiently waits until others at the table have taken food before taking himself. Hearing Sarien's question he answers, Honestly, it wasn't so much caution, but anticipation that brought be this morning. I have been a Westcrown resident for some months now and while the general acceptance of one such as I is a blessing, I have found it difficult to find those that I might break bread with.
Raising her gaze to meet Kael's, she looks momentarily agitated, then smiles slightly. Good of you to ask, Kael. As you no doubt are aware, shadow beasts stalk the unlit streets after dark. I have heard many different explanations for these creatures, but personally, I think I know the answer. She lowers her voice conspirationally. I believe that they were put into the streets by House Thrune, to oppress the citizens of Westcrown and consolidate their infernal power. She glances out the window again before continuing. I assure you that our meeting should not last past true nightfall, but should you wish to stay the night here, I will gladly make arrangements as necessary.
Sarien's hand tightened on his fork for a moment as Rauno cast his spell ) but he relaxed when nothing exploded.
"A student? In Westcrown? I'd not have thought that anyone would come here on purpose."
He nodded at Tao's words, though he was still a little surprised at the notion that anyone would choose to come to Westcrown of their own free will. "You usually have to be careful who you eat with unless you have a particularly strong stomach." He looked to Janiven. "Your reputation is good enough, Janiven, that I'm not inclined to make sure no one turns blue while eating at your table."
His eyes lifted to the door. "I presume that you're waiting for another arrival before speaking more about our purpose here?"
Freya's dark eyes watch Janiven's face intently. "Hmf. Wouldn't put it past them." Any native Chelaxians can no doubt pick up a slight accent and manner of speaking that mark her as originating from the capital city of Egorian.
I know little of magic. How can the fiends that walk these streets be dealt with? More importantly, if your belief in the source of this threat is true and someone were to cleanse these streets, what can be done to prevent it from happening again?
@ Sarien: I was hoping we would be joined by another, but I am thinking that he may not be coming, after all. It is unlike him to be late.
@ Tao: Those are great questions, the answers to which apply to a much wider situation. And now, as everyone seems to mostly be finished with their dinner, it seems that mayhap we should discuss that situation...
After dinner is finished, and with the last rays of daylight beginning to shine outside, Janiven stands up, takes a deep breath, and addresses the group openly.
Again, thank you for agreeing to meet with me here. I have chosen each of you for a singular reason—everyone here, myself included, has suffered, whether we realize it or not. 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 have 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!
Despite her stirring speech, Freya only sits back for a moment, examining Janiven through narrowed eyes. "I don't care about your friends and neighbors and mothers and fathers and aunts and second cousins," she replies at length, "but if you think that we can cause House Thrune a sleepless night or two by killing these shadow creatures, I'm in." She glances at Rauno a bit dismissively. "You start wherever you are, with whatever you find to do," she tells him, "or else you spend your whole life sitting back and b**+*ing about everything that's wrong with the world without ever stepping up and doing anything about it."
I must agree with Rauno. I hear lots of strong words, but as of yet, no solutions. I would gladly give my all to end this infestation if someone were to provide me with a way to do so.
Sarien sat back and watched Janiven carefully throughout her speech, seeing a passion in her that impressed him. He listened to the Rauno and the strange young woman as well, trying to get a sense of their character, even though he knew there was no sense in judging them from a few brief words.
"I too have lived in this city all my life," he said at last, looking at each of the others in turn. "I've lost friends to these shadows and know the danger they represent. I don't know if they're the fault of the House of Thrune and I don't care. If there is something that can be done to rid the night of these things, I will do it. The girl is right: you must start where you are. The danger is right here so this is where we must begin."
Only after he spoke did he admit to himself that he didn't quite know what that last meant, but it sounded good. Better than waiting to be the next victim, anyway.
Kael leans forward, raising a hand to quiet his companions so that he may speak.
"Passion and resolve are fine traits to possess, but they mean little without a proper plan. And a plan is only as good as the intelligence it's based on."
He turns to Janiven. "M'lady, you sought us out. You contacted us, and brought us together. Such a display of initiative and resourcefulness smacks of a plan, and I believe that is why you invited us here tonight. So my question to you is: What do you know of House Thrune that makes you think we five can successfully oppose them?"
Fair questions, all of them, and deserving of what answers I can give. I firmly believe that a dedicated group of concerned citizens will be able to sway the citizens of Westcrown to our cause - not necessarily through blatant acts of defiance, but through good works - and in so doing, form an unstoppable tidal wave of popular sentiment that will wash the filth from our streets, and the infernal influence from our city, if not our great nation entirely. Rest assured, you are not alone in your desire to see the city renewed in this way. My business partner and colleague, Arael, is full of ideas regarding how we should proceed, all of them sound. We have already assembled a small group at our base of operations, and Arael is certain that...
At this moment, a sudden excited pounding at the front door disrupts the meeting. Immediately adopting a defensive posture, Janiven peers through a window, then swiftly moves to the door, unlocks it, and opens it.
In stumbles an out-of-breath and frightened-looking teenager. They’ve got Arael! he calls out, then immediately doubles over in a fit of coughing brought on by what looks to have been a long run.
Janiven's face grows grim as she comforts the lad. Come, Morosino, what nonsense is this? What are you talking about?, she asks.
The boy takes one long, deep breath, and finally words come tumbling out of his mouth. 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!
Sarien brings the front legs of the chair down with a crash and hops to his feet, grabbing his pack and pulling it on over his shoulders. Then he pulls his cloak rapidly over him and hurries to the window.
"I can hear them coming already!" He calls as he peers into the night. "Janiven, there is a back door to this place, isn't there?"
Freya had leaped to her feet at the knock on the door. She gives the boy an angry glance. "Excellent job leading them right to us," she bites out scornfully. "Really well done. Did you leave a pathway of rosepetals for them to walk on?" She moves quickly to the kitchen to look for another way out.
Tao draws his greatsword and takes up a deffensive position between the front door and the kitchen door."Ok Janiven, what's the plan"
"There are at least 15 of them, surely more: Hellknights." Sarien turns away from the window. "We really need to get out of here, right now."
Janiven frowns at Freya's outburst. He is only a boy, Freya - one who does not share your street savviness. He sought only to warn me. This is not his fault.
Regardless, I regret involving you all in this. She reaches up and locks the door, displaying amazing calm for someone in such a position. If you will all kindly follow Freya into the kitchen, we may yet escape.
As she moves behind the bar, the door begins to take a heavy pounding. A deep voice exclaims, Open up, in the name of the Hellknights of the Rack!
Tao moves to the kitchen door, making sure not to block the way, resumes his defensive posture, and when everyone has entered the kitchen, he will follow.