"Yes, swords don't work well underwater. We should get some spears."
Raksi nods. "Aye, such weapons would serve you well."
She hands out the potions and takes a seat in her rocking chair. "Whatever force that is guarding the dead ship is not to be trifled with. Be safe, all of you."
"Many thanks for the aid." Demitri replies before going out to purchase more suitable weapons for underwater.
"Remind me, Lyla," Ortik says as they discuss their impending trip into Korvosa's harbor. "The sharks, they were just regular sharks, right? If so, I might be able to ask the city to make some of them work for us instead of whoever's got them guarding the ship."
Lyla scratches her head. "Hmm, I'm not really an expert on sharks, but yeah, I think so." She takes one of the potions, uncorks the phial and smells and sips the solution to identify its properties.
She ponders the matter of the weapons and says "Spears and harpoons are pretty useless to me... my shopping list will be a bit different", she says, thinking of where she can find the item she needs.
"Slow down Demitri, we still have to return this", Karri motions towards Clay's corpse, "back to Kroft. Or to a pauper's grave." Oh yes, let the rats feast and get infected to share it with their next victims... "On second thought, let's make sure the body is burned."
"We should bring it back to Kroft. She should know what happened. Then we burn the body."
The walk back to the Citadel feels longer than it normally is. Aside from the plague-afflicted citizens lining the streets, hacking & coughing and trying desperately to stem the bleeding from their many sores, and the black-cowled, masked Physicians rubbing foul-smelling ointments on them, the weight of the fallen Guardsman-turned-wererat over Demitri's shoulder dogs his every step. The eyes of countless people are on the party as they move--some of them offering what little sympathy they can, some of them fearful of what will come next, and others silently judging them.
The gates of Citadel Volshyenek are open, but only one person mans them. His eyes widen in sheer disbelief when he sees Simon Clay's corpse, but he makes no move to stop the party as they stride through. The doors to Kroft's office are open.
The Field Marshal herself is sitting at her desk, the dark circles under her eyes contrasting with her pale skin and worn plate armour. She looks up as the party enters the office.
"Yes, what is it now--"
Her words die on her lips as she sees who Demitri is carrying in.
"Clay was bitten a few weeks back, by a wererat apparently. He was offered the chance for revenge in exchange for help in distributing the tainted coins. You should alert his family." Demitri says somberly.
Kroft doesn't say a word, staring at Clay's corpse with wide eyes.
She looks down at her desk and takes a few breaths. "...I ...right. Have you... have you secured the coins?"
She keeps averting her eyes, but her shaking voice says volumes.
"I think so." Demitri says turning over the cashboxes and the note.
Yeah. We got the coins, but Clay was working for someone else. Take a look at that note. Nalun nods to the note Demitri handed over.
"It seems someone has a serious distaste for this city. On a guess, it's awful convenient these stirrings happened with the King's death. It is either his wife, or someone trying to dislodge her. I suspect the later. Why would a monarch work to destabilize her own kingdom?"
"To swoop in and save said kingdom possibly. But we have no proof of that. Who else would want to see this city fall?"
"Magnimarian spies?", Ortik ventured. "It's a long shot, but they spare us little good will. However, I question whether they're organized enough to orchestrate...this."
Kroft wordlessly shrugs and takes a look at the note the party provided. "...alright. "
She gets up from her desk and looks over at Simon's corpse. "I'll have to notify his family. I'll leave it up to you as to how to best..." She looks down and sniffs before walking out the doors to her office.
Once the Marshal has left Karri says, "Go now, or early tomorrow? There is still plenty of daylight and it would only hurt the city to wait."
"Yes, we should go as soon as we can."
Nalun nods in agreement Let's have a stop at a weaponsmith, we need harpoons yeah?
"Some more water appropriate weapons would be good."
"Alright, I need to go to pick up some stuff and prepare more extracts, so I'll meet you on North Bridge in about an hour or so," Lyla says, leaving in a haste. She makes the way from the citadel all the way north to the Shingles in Bridgeport as fast as she can, stopping on the way to purchase a bag of potion sponges. She enters her room through the window, as usual, and shouts out to Althea, "I'm home", as usual, too. Lyla opens her formula book goes through a few recipes, preparing alchemical extracts suited for the underwater expedition.
While working on the extracts, she gently cooks Raksi's potion in the formula alembic in order to taste the resulting distilled drops, which she expects will allow her to identify the ingredients and reproduce it later. When she finishes her work, she walks out of her room and looks for Althea. She finds the old healer tirelessly producing a bash of antiplague to help fight the disease in Korvosa. Lyla feels guilty for not helping Althea with the shop, even though she knows her work with her teammates is just as important, if not more.
"Gee, you look tired", she says to Althea, making her presence known. "We have a lead on who might be doing this to Korvosa, and we're gonna dive in the river to explore a sunken ship. Long story short, I'm gonna do a weird trick and leave my body behind, so don't freak out if you go into my room, ok? My body is gonna be unconscious for a while, so please take care of it or I'm toast," she explains as casually as she can before smiling and going back to her room. "Thanks!"
Lyla lies down and drinks an extract of skinsend, and her skin rips away from her body. She packs up her bag with the potion sponges and runs to meet the group on North Bridge, not far from Althea's house. "Five hours and counting," she says to herself, rushing to the encounter of Karri, Demitri, Ortik, and Nalun.
"Hmph." Althea grunts, not looking up from her latest batch of antiplague. "Alrighty then--I'll make sure your other half is safe and sound by the time you come back."
Tellingly, she has no reaction to being told that you're going to rip your skin off and leave your body behind. Either she's only half-listening or she really is that jaded.
It's difficult to find a blacksmith that's still bold enough to remain in business in the midst of a plague, but the party manages to find one.
The interior of the blacksmith's shop smells strongly of ash, metal and sweat. Racks upon racks of weapons line the back walls of the shop, and mannequins wearing finely-crafted suits of mail stand in the shop's front window. The burly, bald half-orc wearing a smudged apron hammering away at a piece of steel as long as his arm glances up at the party before setting the red-hot metal into a barrel filled with water. The *HISS* of steam mixes with the roar of the forge.
"Aye? You lot must be right desperate to be shopping here. Still, business is business. What do ya need?" He rumbles, his voice sounding like two boulders grinding against each other.
"We need some spears. I could use something I can wield in one hand. "
The blacksmith grunts and hitches a thumb over his shoulder. "Shortspears are on the rack back there. Anything specific you were lookin' for?"
"Something well-made but not quite magical since I have a budget."
"Hey! Who are you callin' short?", Ortik says in mock indignation. "I'll have you know I can use a proper spear just fine, thank you very much."
I'll take one of those shortspears if you please sir.
The half-orc blacksmith directs Ortik, Demitri & Nalun to the rack with the finely-crafted spears, long and short alike, near the back of the store. None of the spears there are decorated or engraved with any visible markings, but the points on them are sharpened to a fine degree all the same. "They're not flashy, but they'll make things bleed. That'll be 301 Sails per shortspear, and 302 for the regular one."
"Anything for the lady, or does she have enough sharp objects on her for today?" He nods at Karri.
Karri bares her teeth, and then as suddenly turns the threat into a smile, "I have blades. Of a sort."
"You have a deal. Thank you."
With purchases made, the party reunites and begins their trek to Korvosa's docks. The Pharast air clears somewhat as they approach the Jeggare River, the reek of disease giving way to the salty tang of ocean water.
The waves lap at the pier the party steps up to. The wrecked ship lies in waiting underneath the harbour...
Demitri will drink his potion of water breathing, draw his newly bought shortspear, and jumps in.
"Down the hatch, friends!", Ortik says, quaffs the potion, and follows Demitri into the cold water.
Well, no time like the present... Nalun follows Demitri
Karri drinks the potion given by the ratfolk woman. Then, having changed into a lighter robe at their home, Karri simply lets it slide off of her shoulders. Beneath it she wears a plain shift, leaving her arms and legs bare. You knew she had scars, but the scope is almost beyond understanding. More than jagged reminders of pain, each one is a tracing of arcana. Names, ideals, foci. She frowns as she catches eyes on her and then jumps into the water. She sputters and comes back to the surface, miserable in the tainted river water this close to the port. "Let's get on with this, then." She kicks and paddles after Nalun and Demitri, trying her best to keep up.
The party submerges beneath the chilly waters of the Jeggare River and begins the arduous swim downwards. The current tugs at their clothes and gear, at times threatening to carry them off, but nothing will deter them. Long overdue answers lie at the bottom of the harbour.
After ten minutes of swimming, a dark shape comes into view, resting on the sandy riverbed. The once-seaworthy Direption lies broken in twain across an outcropping of rocks. The rocks jut up from where the catapult stone that sank it made its mark. Two splintered, debris filled decks are visible inside the ship, and its bowsprit is shattered into several pitiable shards.
Demitri will be on the lookout for sharks as he swims closer to the sunken boat.
Likewise, Ortik watches closely for evidence of the undersea guards Lyla saw on her initial foray.
Karri searches herself for a part of Legion she has never touched. Finally she finds it. A burned shore and blood foamed waves. She calls them, drawing them close to her hand. When they are close enough, she snatches as many as she can. Back in the world her eyes have changed again, her watery breath streaks nearby in an oil smudge of rainbow. Reaching into her flesh she draws out those amphibious parts of Legion. Squeaking and sleek, the red tinged dolphins swim rowards the wreck. Draw them out. Eat them if you can. Suffer if you can't.
Lyla takes three potion sponges and stuffs them in her mouth, one after another, chewing them to their last drop. The first one, a mutagen, changes her appearance to a leaner, feline aspect; the second mutates her further, creating a web of skin between her fingers and toes. The last one shrinks her to the size of a fish. Swimming past Karri, Lyla winks at the sorceress while joining the dolphins, swimming quickly by their side towards the Direption before splitting up to reach the damaged hull. She looks for cracks to observe the inside of the shipwreck, her eyes replaced by two bright dots totally adapted to darkness.
Neither Ortik nor Demitri see any signs of the sharks Lyla saw on her first trip under the harbour...
The Legion's dolphins scuttle off to investigate the wreckage.
Lyla discovers a large rent in the Direption's hull leading into a very dark compartment of the vessel's bow. The parts of the deck that she can see are lined with silt & ruined barrels.
Lyla carefully floats into the compartment, taking advantage of her reduced size and lack of bones to slip in inconspicuously through the damaged hull. She approaches the barrels to check on its contents, keeping handy a potion sponge soaked in an extract of fire breath. After studying the barrels, she moves on to the next chamber, to the south.
The compartment you search appears to have once been the ship's forecastle, with the doors beyond swinging open in the current. What appears to have once been a galley is beyond the doors, strewn with broken crates and stray bits of algae.
Curiously, there's nothing of interest in the forecastle or the galley--no personal effects, no goods, no supplies.
But you do notice something stirring in the silt on the galley's floor.
Demitri swims to the compartment following Lyla.
You also notice that something is stirring in the silt on the floor--it looks to be long and wavy. Or rather, six long and wavy things.
The red dolphins swim out past the broken remains of the Direption and turn back.
You hear a growling, tinny voice in your head.
Mistress. Oneswimmingbehindshipcorpse. Seenus. Shallwekillit?