Ceralune's CotCT: Edge of Anarchy

[Ceralune]

Moonday, 11 Calistril, 4708 – 10:00 AM

Fisker

You heave a sigh as you sit down, hard, on your stool, sliding your goggles on top of your head. That’s the second botched concoction this morning. Despite your efforts to focus on the task at hand, it’s just not working today for some reason. Well, you have had a rather discouraging last couple of days. You thought you finally had a lead on where that slippery scoundrel Gaedren Lamm was hiding, but it turned up cold. The address that that guy gave you led to a shady alley, and as soon as you appeared on the doorstep, two large men showed up and tried to mug you. Luckily, those guys were too much brawn and not enough brains, and you escaped them easily, but it just wasn’t how you had planned on spending your evening. And of course, this was on top of the lab work you did that morning, and the deliveries you made in the early evening, making for a very disappointing end to your day.

You resolve yourself to giving the concoction another go, and move to slide the goggles back over your eyes. But wait – something’s not right, why did sliding the goggles over your head result in your vision being obscured? Blinking confusedly for a few seconds before unstrapping them to get a better look, you realize that something is stuck to the front of the lenses. You peel it off – it seems to be a harrow card.

You look at the harrow card in your hand, perplexed at how it could have gotten there. The back of the card is smooth, covered with a pattern of red, green, and blue designs. The biggest surprise, however, comes when you flip the card over and examine the front – in place of an image, there appears to be a note.

I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I have a lead on where he might dwell, yet I cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at 2:00 PM. Others like you will be there. Gaedren Lamm must face his fate, and justice must be done.

At first, you wonder if this may be some kind of farce. It almost seems too perfect – what are the odds that something like this would just fall into your lap at the time when all of your leads have run dry? It wouldn’t be the first time someone has tried to pull one over on you, just because you’re a little shorter than most and you’ve got fur and whiskers. You briefly feel that it seems a little suspicious, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. Gaedren Lamm must pay for what he has done, and if there is even the slightest possibility that this will lead you to him, you will take that chance.

You try to go about your slow walk to the Midland district as normal, but you are slightly on edge as you anticipate what will happen at 2:00. You can’t help but hope that whomever has sent this mysterious note can help you finally find where Gaedren Lamm is. The slow walk soon becomes a brisk one, and then a slow jog as you pace through the Midland district. And so, despite the strange nature of it all, it comes as somewhat of a relief to end up in front of this 3 Lancet Street. You end up in Pillar Hill at a small, but well-maintained, cottage.

You knock on the door. After a few moments of waiting, though, no one comes to answer it, so you hesitatingly try the doorknob. It opens easily.

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Moonday, 11 Calistril, 4708 10:27 AM

Fiora

“Goodbye!” You bid farewell to the customer who just exited your shop. He left without buying anything, as most of them do, but you’ve got more important things on your mind right now. You were just about to go down to the Dock Trade earlier that morning to ask around about Gaedren Lamm, but then that young man came into your bookstore and rambled for a half hour about some rare book that went out of print that he was trying to find. When you told him, repeatedly, that you didn’t have it, he then lamented for another hour about how difficult it all was but he supposed he shouldn’t have expected much when even the Gilded Orrery didn’t carry that book on its shelves.

Figures he would be from the Acadamae; those folk tended to err on the stranger side of personalities. And reading subjects. Verna, bless her heart, tried to appease the young man by showing him the other books you had in stock, but he was having none of it and ignored her completely in favor of blubbering to you. Every time you tried to leave, he’d grasp your wrist and bemoan his circumstances some more, and it took all of your willpower not to sock him in the face, knowing that doing so would only bring more people from the Acadamae who would add to your troubles.

But that’s neither here nor there. He’s finally left, and you’re finally free to go to the Dock Trade. “Verna, I’m going out.”

“Again? You’re still set on finding that Lamm fellow who hurt old Gunner, aren’t you?” She regards you with a worried look.

You nod, and Verna knows better than to try and stop you. Instead, she reassuringly declares, “Well, don’t you worry about the bookstore while you’re gone! I’ve got everything under control.” She flashes you a confident grin, that will probably disappear if it rains while you’re gone and the water starts seeping through the leaks in the roof again. She disappears into the shelves, probably to sort out the new arrivals that came in earlier that morning.

You start putting away the books around you that you showed to the customer, automatically restacking them onto a shelf behind the counter. But an unfamiliar texture calls your attention to the book in your hand, and you realize something is on top of it. Peeling the slip of paper away from the cover, you discover that it is a harrow card, with a note in place of an image on its front side.

I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I have a lead on where he might dwell, yet I cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at 2:00 PM. Others like you will be there. Gaedren Lamm must face his fate, and justice must be done.

Huh. Well this has all manner of suspiciousness around it, you think to yourself. How did this note even get here? Did the customer leave it behind? But, no, he didn’t even touch the books you offered to him; he was too busy whining about the fact that none of them were what he was looking for. And it seems to be specifically addressed to you – whoever sent you this note knows about Gaedren Lamm, and seems to know about the attack on Gunner.

You consult a book of maps to find where exactly 3 Lancet Street is, and discover it to be in a fairly respectable area of Pillar Hill.

http://i.imgur.com/BNSfCty.png

Well, it looks like your plans for today have changed. You’ve got no guarantee that you’ll find anything at the Dock Trade, and you might have a direct, albeit suspicious, lead to Lamm. You call out, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Verna,” as you exit the Bookberries Bookstore and head south towards the Midland district. Something tells you that this trip is going to take a while, and you’re not going to be back at your bookstore anytime today.

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Moonday, 11 Calistril, 4708 – 10:33 AM

Leptira

You feel a nudge to your shoulder. Your eyes crack open as sunlight streams onto your face. You blink once, then twice, before the nudge comes again, harder this time. Where are you? What happened last night? Questions like these swarm your mind as your eyes open wide to the sight of what looks to be a member of the Sable Company. He doesn’t look very pleased with you. “You can’t sleep here. Get up, and leave these streets immediately.” Well, that was rather rude. Still, you’re in no position to argue with him, so you stumble to your feet. Evidently satisfied by this, the Sable Company Marine grunts, turns around, and continues walking. You look around and realize that you’re in… what looks to be a really nice part of town, actually. The buildings look well-maintained and the streets are cleaner than you remember. One of the structures off to the right even has a sign on it, hmm, let’s see… “The Crested Falcon.”

You’ve heard of that place before, haven’t you? The master contemplated sending you here once, hoping that your elfish features (which made you a prettier sight than the most of the other orphans) would enable you to blend in better and give you a shot at pickpocketing the nobles who were just coming in to dine. Wait… but that means… you’re in the Heights?! How did you wind up here?! You didn’t have any jobs to do here—ohh. Horror grips you as you remember your escape attempt from last night. You’ve managed to escape the master, but you can hardly call this a success - in your haste to escape Gaedren Lamm, you’ve left your best friend – who has always supported you and helped you – behind.

You look down at your grimy clothes and touch your face with a hand, discovering that it’s coated with a thin layer of slime. No wonder the Sable Marine looked so irritated and wanted you gone; you must look really out of place. You remember wandering the streets last night, half-delirious, in a pitiful attempt to find someone to help you rescue Elly. You must have collapsed here. It’s a good thing that The Crested Falcon is closed in the mornings, or you’d have to deal with some more unkind reactions than the one that the Marine gave you.

But this seems like only the tiniest of blessings, considering the mess you’re in.

The sad thing is, even though you want to go find help and rush to Elly’s aid, you don’t even know where you would lead your supposed helpers. The master had been very frustrated with your failed attempts at pickpocketing for the past couple of months, punishing you by keeping you confined to his hideout, slaving away in the dark. During this time, he definitely switched hideouts, but you didn’t even get to see where the new hideout is as he truly insisted on keeping you “in the dark” at all times, even during the transfer. “Useless orphans who cannot even manage a little sleight of hand do not deserve enlightenment of any kind,” or something like that. You and the other Little Lamms who had fallen out of his favor spent that walk stumbling over loose cobblestones, unable to see due to the dirty sack over your head.

Well, as much as you’d like to collapse again and cry your heart out, you’re forced to conclude that would only draw more unneeded attention to yourself. The people passing you by on the streets are already giving you snooty, disdainful sniffs as they otherwise disregard you. They aren’t likely to help a filthy, ragged girl like you. You need to get out of the Heights. Unsure of which way to go, you start off in the direction that you think is West.

Fate seems to have it out for you today, though, because after walking only a few steps you slip on something and fall to the ground again.

As you pick yourself back up, you realize that whatever you stepped on is stuck to your foot. Rubbing your side, you remove the object from the bottom of your foot and realize that it is a harrow card. Confused, you flip it over and discover that there is writing on the other side.

I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I have a lead on where he might dwell, yet I cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at 2:00 PM. Others like you will be there. Gaedren Lamm must face his fate, and justice must be done.

Your breath catches in your throat as you read the short note. Is fate smiling upon you after all? Even though you don’t understand how this note found its way to you… You’re not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth. You immediately resolve to finding this 3 Lancet Street and meeting whoever sent this note your way.

It takes a bit of effort, and asking around (and putting up with more than a few dirty glares). But you manage to find out that the place you’re looking for is in Pillar Hill, and a nearby noble is all too happy to point you in the right direction to get you out of her face.

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Moonday, 11 Calistril, 4708 – 10:42 AM

Sancia

“So you came back.”

The cleric in front of you states the obvious, as you stand before him in the entrance to the Grand Cathedral of Pharasma. You shrug, resisting the urge to sass him. He hands you a small shovel. He knows why you’re here. They all do – you’ve made it no secret that you want information on Illendrin’s murder. But he plays along with your “gardening duties” and murmurs, “Apparently they’ve decided to trust you with the Gold Ward today. Be careful. Don’t get in the way of the Sable Company or the Korvosan Guard standing watch there, or we’ll never hear the end of it.” He nods at you in farewell, then walks off to attend to whatever his day job is.

You’re about to go and dig up weeds around the burial sites of the wealthy, when a hesitant voice catches your attention. “Sancia, is it?” Turning around, you see a young maid. She’s a petite, feminine young lady, actually, and you remember seeing her before. “Why hello there, sweetheart. And what kind of name might a pretty little thing like yourself go by?” you ask, facing her with a brazen smile.

Unfortunately, this seems to unnerve her more, but she manages to eek out, “Nuri. My name is Nuri. I… I heard something about Miss Illendrin’s death.”

At these words, your easy flirtatiousness vanishes, and you regard Nuri with serious eyes. “Tell me everything you know.”

Apparently, the complete change in your demeanor only makes her even more timid. You can feel your patience slipping away before she finally glances around furtively, and motions for you to move in closer. You obey, and she whispers into your ear,

“I overheard Bishop d’Bear speaking with one of the other priests… I didn’t manage to hear much, but they mentioned something about ‘little lambs.’”

It’s hardly a lead to go off of, but you tuck the information into the back of your head. “Thank you. I don’t understand, though. Bishop d’Bear knows what happened? Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

“I don’t know. I only know what I told you.” Nuri has an immensely worried look on her face as she says this, and she hesitates again before adding, “… I wish I could help more. Illendrin was a very kind soul. All I can do is promise to tell you if I hear anything else. I’m sorry.”

She then walks off with slumped shoulders, probably to tend to her chores for the day.

Puzzling over what the “little lambs” could mean, you go off to the Gold Ward, small shovel in hand. What would sheep have to do with Illendrin’s murder? It just didn’t make any sense. You start uprooting the stubborn weeds with the shovel, and you work yourself into a rhythm as you ponder over what it could mean. Eventually, your shovel hits something other than dirt, and you snap out of your train of thought to look down. It seems to be a card? A very battered card, now that your shovel has done a number on it, but somehow it’s still intact. You extract it from the loosened dirt and brush it off to reveal miraculously clearly-seen words:

I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I have a lead on where he might dwell, yet I cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at 2:00 PM. Others like you will be there. Gaedren Lamm must face his fate, and justice must be done.

Gaedren Lamm? The name doesn’t ring a bell to you at all. You wonder if maybe the original intended receiver of the note dropped it here, but then something clicks. Gaedren… Lamm? Lamm. “Little Lamms.” It’s a long shot, and the chance of this note actually being addressed to you is another long shot, but it’s still a bit of a coincidence.

You debate for a moment over whether you’re really going to go all the way to this 3 Lancet Street because of some note you found while you were digging up weeds.

And you quickly decide that yes, yes you are. You’ve spent a month here in Gray hoping to get something, anything helpful. And on the very day that someone actually comes forward and gives you even the tiniest hint, you find this note. Hey, the worst that can happen is that the note really is a dud and no one shows up there.

Lancet Street’s not too far away, but you’re stuck weeding for another couple of hours. You genuinely consider whether it would be worth it to just bolt and run… but then you remember that stupid priest and how he doubts your commitment to not only avenging Illendrin, but also your promise to help out around the burial wards in exchange for any information that comes up.

Letting out a frustrated growl, you return to the task at hand with renewed vigor. Maybe if you finish the job especially quickly, they’ll let you go early.

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Moonday, 11 Calistril, 4708 – 11:15 AM

Noirin

You look at your Donation Cup with a somewhat disheartened expression. It’s been an unprofitable morning for you, and despite the fact that winter’s almost over and spring will soon be on its way, the lingering chill in the air has kept many Korvosans from roaming the streets as they normally do. And that means, business has been slow.

You shake yourself and resume singing, hoping to catch an appreciative ear from the people passing you by as they shop for their seafood in the Reefclaw Run Market. You come here once in a while in the winter, even though the smell of fish is strong here, because the cold means that the seafood is kept fresher longer, bringing an increase in prospective customers for the fishermen and, more importantly, an increase in people who might have a few spare coins in their pockets for you. As a middle-aged woman drops a pinch into your Donation Cup, you thank her with an appreciative smile and continue with your aria. Someday, you’d land a job singing in a nice, toasty tavern or, *gasp*, maybe even the Bard’s End! They’re often overbooked with the overwhelmingly large number of performers that flock there every evening, but hey, it could happen someday.

Another half-hour goes by before you notice that the streets have started thinning out as people rush home to prepare the midday meal, and you cease singing. You don’t remember seeing as many people stop by as you would have liked, but you think you should still be able to buy a hot bowl of stew from Jeggare’s Jug. You walk up to your Donation Cup…

… and there are about as many coins as you expected, really. But what’s surprising is that there’s also something else in there. Picking it out of the small container, you realize that you’ve seen the pattern on this card before; the fortune-tellers in the Gold Market often used them. Flipping it over, you discover a note on the other side.

I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I have a lead on where he might dwell, yet I cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at 2:00 PM. Others like you will be there. Gaedren Lamm must face his fate, and justice must be done.

Gaedren? Gaedren Lamm? Even his name brings an onslaught of bad memories back to you. You haven’t seen the man in years, which is just as well with you, though you’ll never forget the horrible time you had under his thumb. In fact, you’ve gone to quite a lot of effort to stay away from him entirely, afraid of what would happen if he somehow managed to snipe you off the streets again. It’s this old fear that makes you hesitate at the sight of this message.

And yet… you can’t help but admit that you’d love to see Lamm caught. You weren’t the only orphan that he exploited, and you remember that you haven’t seen Alika in a while either. Maybe this note is a sign that something terrible has happened to her after all. Maybe it’s a chance to get more information.

Well, it’s unfortunate that you’ll have to miss out on that piping hot bowl of stew, but this is probably more important than your lunch and it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve gone without. You note the sun’s position in the sky and figure it must be pretty close to midday. Which means… you’ve got about two hours to make it to 3 Lancet Street.

You recall seeing a “Lancet Street” nearish the Gold Market, but that’s a pretty long walk away. You had better get a move on. At least you can avoid some of the street traffic there is on the ground. After gathering the coins you’ve collected into a small pouch, you make for a nearby ladder that leads to the Shingles above, and speed towards the Gold Market.

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Moonday, 11 Calistril, 4708 – 2:05 PM

Leptira, Noirin, Sancia, Fiora

You each arrive, one after another. Remembering that others are also supposed to be here, a quick round of questioning reveals that you are all guests of the mysterious person who sent you the harrow card notes. All of you are eager to meet this person, and you put off formal introductions for now in favor of knocking on the door.

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Moonday, 11 Calistril, 4708 – 2:02 PM

Fisker

The interior of the cottage consists of a single cozy chamber filled with a fragrant haze of flowers and strong spice that overwhelms you initially, with your strong sense of smell and all. Still, it only takes a short time for you to get used to it, and then you realize that the aroma comes from several sticks of incense smoldering in wall-mounted burners that look like butterfly-winged elves. The smoke gives the room a dreamy feel. The walls are draped with brocaded tapestries, one showing a black-skulled beast juggling human hearts, and another showing a pair of angels dancing atop a snow-blasted mountain. A third tapestry on the wall depicts a tall, hooded figure shrouded in mist, holding a flamed sword in a skeletal hand. Several brightly colored rugs cover the floor, but the room’s only furnishings are a small but nicely made chest of drawers sitting next to the far wall, a small clock that rests on the chest, a wooden table covered by a bright red throw cloth and exactly four elegant, tall-backed chairs. A basket covered by blue cloth sits under the table.

Meanwhile, on top of the table is a note, though it isn’t on a harrow card this time. You lift the stone paperweight pinning it to the table to get a better look.

Thank you for coming. I had to step out for a bit, but shall return shortly. Please, have a seat while you wait. The basket under the table contains food and drink for you.

You take the basket out from under the table, discovering that there are indeed some rolls tucked under the blue cloth and a bottle of wine. However, before you can take a bite, there is a knock at the door. You open it, expecting to see the person who invited you here. However, one glance at the person at the door tells you that probably isn’t the case – for one, there are four people standing there, and they all regard the room with wide eyes. Clearly they haven’t been here before. It’s a few moments before they realize that you’re, uh, “down here!” and tilt their heads down to finally realize that you’re the one who opened the door.

What was it the first note said again? Oh yes – Others like you will be there.

[Vanguardian]

It's a trap! some ever-paranoid part of her yelled in Fiora's mind, but then her consciousness smiled at its own folly. If Gaedren wanted a piece of her - it was much easier for him to come and try to take it directly, rather than engineer an elaborate plot to lure her into one of the most secure parts of the city, a stone toss away from the castle.
I hope it's a trap... some other part of her chuckled ... it's much less tiresome when they run towards you, rather than away.
The tiefling picked a massive two-handed falchion from a stand on the wall behind her, wrapped her tail around small traveling sack and left the bookstore while heading for Lancet Street.


https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/6JZ5OmNxWbnwmKyM-6iFzYVQnhqyhbdlctLvzrZ3MSPpRlCxTIi37wfwbJYpWsXcBzu wLIVaDw=w1680-h1050-no

At first, Fiora instinctively reached for her weapon, but something made her halt her swing before escalating the situation. She took a deeper look at the inquisitive rodent eyes in front of her and with relief noticed the distinctive lack of maddening glare, characteristic of the wererats. Well, that's a fancy rat hole if I've ever seen one the golden-eyed tiefling thought to herself while she adjusted her posture to take a better look both at the newly appeared ratfolk and the room behind him.

"Erm... pardon me, mister." Her hands remained on the Graeywind's hilt, but her demeanor quickly turned from threatening to simply curious. "You forgot this in my bookstore, unless I am mistaken..." her leathery tail slithered into the tiefling's sash and pulled harrow card that she passed to Fisker. I know what Gaedren has... the ratfolk's eyes managed to catch a quick look of the well familiar text on the cart dangling in front of him.

[Red_Jenny]

Noirin gathered up her meager belongings, her eyes flashing back to the card over and over, mind running overtime. Was it a joke? Couldn't be. She didn't know anyone with a sense of humor that cruel. Trap? Maybe. Didn't make much sense. Whoever had delivered the card had gotten close enough to stick a dagger in her throat, and done it without her noticing. Gaedren wasn't the sort to set up this kind of scavenger hunt anyhow. He'd just send someone big and mean to kick you in the ribs. Besides, Pillar Hill was a nice bit of town. Not too stuck up, not too run down. Cute cottages with window boxes full of flowers. Sort of place Noirin imagined herself in, should she ever come into money.

Thinking on it, she shouldn't be that surprised. Her opinion of Lamm was hardly a secret, and the decaying old **** probably had a list of enemies taller than she was. Let's see where this all leads. "Right then, means this is real. Means I need to get a move on."

Fishing a rather disreputable-looking bit of hardtack out of a pocket, she broke it apart and pushed the crumbs through the bars of a curious little compartment on her pack, like a padded birdhouse with a caged door. "Here you are, your Majesty. Least one of us gets lunch." The compartment's passenger, a rather chubby brown mouse (https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/2/29/Brown_pet_mouse.jpg/640px-Brown_pet_mouse.jpg), perked up and nibbled on Noirin's fingers, drawing a giggle from the halfling. "Not me, you little butterball. C'mon, we got ourselves a hike."

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Noirin dropped down out of the Shingles and onto the far end of Lancet Street. As she approached number three, it became clear she wasn't the first to arrive. There were indeed "others like her". Two were rather intimidating sorts, one packing a sword whose blade was longer than Noirin's whole body, but the third...

"Leptira!"

The halfling broke into a jog, a broad grin on her face. No doubt that this was all for real now. The elf found herself the victim of a small but fierce hug.

"It's been ages! What are you doing here? You finally got out from under the old bastard's thumb? I'm damn proud. You all right?" Noirin stops herself before she gets too carried away. "Come on, let's get inside, we can catch up in comfort!"

As they opened the door, Noirin looked up to greet their host out of habit, only to find someone much closer to her size waiting within.

"Well, finally someone I can look in the eye." Noirin offered a wink and a sweeping bow, then waltzed right in and clambered up into one of the chairs. Ratfolk, eh? Not what I expected, but then this days just been full of surprises. "So are you the one who slipped us these cards, then? Oh! Noirin. Noirin Alvey, to those of you I don't already know. Pleasure all around!"

[Bhaakon]

"Meep!" Fisker squeaks, incoherent, as he realizes what the strange card means. He stands up, sending his battered little stool across the room, tumbling one and a half rat-strides before it lands in his sleeping nest of disheveled cushions and quilts. He spins, searching for the sneak-thief who had left the card, whiskers twitching, tail up and straight out, very nearly upending an large (and very expensive!) Erlenmeyer flask set to boil above a burner.

But no matter how many corners he poked his nose into, or how many times he checked the bits of hair still pinned by the door, and the window, and the other window, Fisker found no evidence of surreptitious entry. Finally, teeth grinding with barely harnessed nerves, he retrieves the goggles and the card, sniffs them, reads the words again.

No...no...that can't be right. This is mad! He thinks. But that he was out of leads, and the person who did this probably could have hurt him if they wanted to, not just left a note. Which meant a trap...well, at least less likely. It was worrisome, but maybe it was on the up-and-up.

No, no. Of course it's not on the up-and-up. Secret notes delivered by thieves, or magic, or magic thieves, there was nothing respectable about that. But it did prove that they were competent, which meant they might actually know something.

"Oh...oh, dear. This means I'll have to go, then." Fisker resigns himself.

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Oh, no. No, no, no. This design, so tasteless, so gaudy. Fisker's teeth click in reproach as he surveys the room. Whoever had snuck into his lab-home was subtle, but this was just...not. Not at all. Bug-winged incense holders and all kinds of occult tapestries. It looked like some child picture-book version of a wizard's parlor.

But at least there was a food. The promise of something to eat--for free!--overshadowed Fisker's caution long enough for him to retrieve the basked full of edibles.

Then the knock came.

Fisker is so flustered that he even neglects to stuff a roll in his cheek pouch before scrambling to the door. At least he assumes that why he forgot. It also seems strange that he opens the door. That doesn't seem like something he'd do without at least asking who was there, and he doesn't remember doing that.

The hulking, horn-headed Tall lumbers in first and hunches down to get a better look at Fisker, who screeches loudly in his head as one paw fumbles for a vial of incendiary at his side. He isn't thinking straight, of course, because such a mixture is likely to be useless against a demon-blood. Or whatever blood this person is. It's hard to tell these things just by looking.

Strangely, though, it's not a rat-skinning dagger she reaches for, but a card much like Fisker's own. He takes it she hands it too her, looking it over, seeing the identical note. "Y...you run a book store?" He mutters incredulously, all he can think to say as he hands back the card.

Then the halfling enters. A tiefling and a halfling...so disreputable. What have I gotten myself into? No decent types came from a species that ending in '-ling', it was just common knowledge.

"N...no. I found a card like this while I was working in my lab. Someone must have snuck in and placed it, b-but I can't think of how." He answers, keeping an eye on the halfling's sticky fingers. Notorious pickpockets, those halflings, and Fisker bears a number of very valuable tinctures.

[Merilan]

In her dreams, it felt as if she could be invincible, untouchable, unassailable. Floating upon a stream of whitewater that mists ever so gently upon her cheeks, with five-patterned maple leaves floating down from the skies, cascading down from the tops of tree branches too long and too tall for the eyesight to follow, everything seemed peaceful.

Except water didn't nudge, ever so gently. Nudge, nudge...

"O-oh, oh, goodness--" Leptira gasped awake, suddenly much more waterlogged than she was floating, slime-drenched than she was airy; she stammered her apologies to the Sable Marine and hurried away at a moment's notice, skittish and wiry, her movements nervous and agitated. It didn't take her long to catch up with her predicament, her heart squeezing her as she thought about what might happen to Elly -- what might already have happened to her. Time was of the essence, and she very well couldn't linger and sob and do nothing.

Y-you have to be brave, Tira. For Elly...!

She pumped her hands and moved along, coming to a bit of a stumble when she saw the card and peered at it. With a gasp, she glanced around, as if to make sure this wasn't someone else's belonging... then she scurried off, perhaps believing in portents more than the average person would like to admit they do.



By the time two o' clock passed around, Leptira was more than a little bit hungry, and a little bit dehydrated as well; in her whirlwind frenzy of emotion and the fervour of her escape, she hadn't even thought of something like food or drink. The pretty, white-haired elf was -- well, she was a rightful mess, not an adventurer more than she was an orphan off the street. Her gown was rough-sewn from hemp and was patched not so much evenly but haphazardly, and thoroughly soiled and muddied, and she didn't have shoes on and her feet was dirty and sore and battered. Her hair was slicked with mud and slime and god knows what else, a little tree branch sticking out of one tangled lock.

"Noi... N-Noirin...?" Leptira gasped as she stepped closer, reaching up and-- stopping herself, knowing she was absolutely filthy. "Noirin, you're alive...? Oh my goodness, Noirin! Er-- yes, we should... do you know this person? I got a card, it said that this person could help," she started to natter nervously, but shut herself up as she followed her in, passing a glance towards the much taller girl with the onyx horns and the b-blade.

"I received a card..." she hoarsely said, holding the harrow card up. "I want to save Elly, she's in trouble..."

[PersonMan]

Sancia's mood has been in flux ever since she arrived at the Gray, which is unusual. Generally, the time she spends in that district is a dull, but calm, reprieve from the normal noise of the city. Something about tending the graves sets her at ease, and that's precisely what she needs now. Finding a buried card with an odd note on it, being told that the Church of Pharasma was apparently not putting as much effort into solving the murder of one of its own members...it was disturbing, even though it did give her something solid to work off of. A slight chill permeates her thoughts for at least an hour, before she resolves to leave the matter of Bishop d'Bear for after she had sent Gaedren into Pharasma's realm. It wouldn't do any good for her to be distracted when she finally has a possible lead, after all.

So Sancia shovels, her mind gradually passing away from the frosty suspicion the young woman's words had aroused, settling instead into the relaxed, wandering train of thought that came when she went to work keeping the grounds. As always, she considers a wide variety of things, at least once wondering if there was some kind of...divine plan, or similar, at work here. Obviously, Illendrin's death wouldn't have been involved, but what if everything since then was being orchestrated by the priestess' patron? She had told her about the Gray Lady's old prophecies; this could be a new one. The idea that she's being guided by the hand of fate is both calming and a tad worrying. Sancia decides to try and resolve the matter with prayer when she has the time. Really, it's not like anything could go wrong by making sure both the Lady of Mysteries and The Unquenchable Fire were on her side.

Assuming the card isn't some old message from Pharasma-knows-how-long ago, of course. A man like Gaedren Lamm probably had at least a few more enemies than just her; it was entirely possible some other worshiper of Pharasma had received the note, buried it here, and gone off to what sounded like a coalition of the similarly wronged.

---

The card isn't, in fact, some old message from Pharasma-knows-how-long ago. At least, if it is, then whoever owns this nice little cottage has an exceptionally odd social life. A tiefling woman, someone who looked like they'd been mud wrestling a tree and lost...really, despite her immediate decision to hug the one covered in slime, the halfling is the most normal of the three. Not that Sancia was about to complain about her company. Quite the opposite, in fact; once it turned out that they were all present for the same thing and would as a result possibly (hopefully) be working together, she can't help but smile.

It's when the door opens and a rat-person reveals themselves that Sancia raises an eyebrow, but his response to the bookshop-owning (!) tiefling shows that he's just another one of them. Which is odd, since he's inside...Well, now the halfling is, too. No reason to wait, then.

"So you're in the same boat we're in," Sancia comments to the rat-man, shifting forwards to go inside as well. Her time in Korvosa has taught her to make sure to stick with the city's own odd version of phrases, rather than use them properly. These people all seemed nice enough, but she'd had more than one unpleasant experience involving sudden and surprisingly angry rants about Varisians.

"I found my card in the dirt, with a shovel," Sancia says, displaying her mangled card, glad to have seen a non-damaged one. No matter how well the handwriting had survived burial and shoveling, it still seemed a tad suspicious that it was all so legible and she'd spent some time considering whether or not she was reading some altered version of the message.

With that, Sancia goes into the cottage itself, looking around with a raised eyebrow. Four chairs. She glances back. One, two. The halfling was already seated on one...She sees an opportunity.

"Sancia," she says, as the halfling introduces herself. Noirin? Pleasant enough name. "Leptira, is it?" She asks, turning to the still-muddy one. "If you don't mind, I could help you with the mess. Judging by how many seats there are, we'll need to double up somewhere unless someone stands," the last bit is punctuated by a brief smile and wink, before Sancia sits down, flipping her sword with a quick motion to lean it against the chair blade-up. No need to poke a hole in their host's rug, after all.

"I take it Gaedren's got Elly?" She asks after a moment, briefly glancing over to Noirin, to see if she has more to say on the matter. Better to rescue a living friend than avenge a dead one.

[Bhaakon]

"Fithgur" Fisker introduces himself. Only when he slurs his own name does he realize that he's stored a roll in his cheek, a habit acceptable among his own people but considered rude among the Talls. While the two newest arrivals had spoken, he'd taken the opportunity to avail himself of the basket of bread--one small loaf in paw, another in maw--and taken a seat at the table.

Sheepishly, he withdraws the slightly soggy roll and speaks more clearly. "M-my name is Fisker. Just Fisker." He adds, a touch defensively, "There's a note there, on the table, saying the food is for us. I...er...it doesn't taste poisoned." He really should have thought of that before stuffing some in his mouth, but it was free food, and his people never really were picky about their meals. Table manners were an effort Fisker had been trying to make, but it wasn't as if he had much practice dining with Talls.

"Oh...this Elly. I'd heard he uses orphaned children as slaves. She isn't one of those, is she? Just despicable. I can't believe I sold...urp." Fisker shuts himself up by jamming the roll back in his gob. Better not to reveal his completely accidental dealings with Lamm.

[Vanguardian]

"So there is a second note, huh?" Fiora took a peak at the table over the ratfolk "Got worried for a moment that our patron's absence might be a reason for concern. The letter is in the same handwriting, no?" The tiefling took two energetic steps towards the last empty chair, then remembered the quiet elven girl still sitting at the entrance and just braced herself against the nearest wall. "Hey, longears, sit. This food will treat you nicely if you ask me."

"It seems whoever our host is, zie is both capable and well informed if a bit overly mysterious." the demonblood's tail lashed through the air, grasping the still unattended wine bottle in the basket near the one that called himself Fiskers. "And apparently Lamm is threading much deeper waters than I initially thought. Living on the efforts of a bunch of children and sending a bunch of goons to have a fist-talk with someone who ruffles your feathers is one thing, but kidnapping, arson..." she took a fleeting look at elf, the ratfolk and then remaining guests "...can't say he won't deserve whatever this strange alliance brings upon him." her tail lifted the bottle at the height of the tiefling's face and Fiora sank her pronounced fangs into the cork, quickly ripping it away. "Are there some glasses around or we have to drink from the bottle like savages?"

[Red_Jenny]

Fisker's table manners don't bother Noirin. In fact, she does much the same, grabbing a roll and gnawing on the crust as she listens to the others talk. "Slaves is about the size of it, yeah. Used to be one. 'Little Lamms', they call 'em. Used us as pickpockets and thieves, mostly, when he's wasn't just workin' your fingers to the bone for a bowl of gruel. Step out of line, foul up, get beaten bloody. Or worse." Noirin shakes off the unpleasant memories and turned to more pressing issues.

"Leptira, what happened? Elly talked with me, made all sorts of plans to get you two away from Lamm. I promised to help. When I saw you, I thought... She's still there? Damn it all..."

Clearly distressed, Noirin's eyes light on the bottle of wine. She fishes a battered tin cup from her pack, nodding at Fiora. "I'm not one to turn down a drink. Could use one right now anyhow."

[Merilan]

"They found out, Noirin," Leptira answered the halfling and the lady with the sword earnestly, lowering her head. "Elly, she drew a dagger and said she'd distract them so I could run away--" she choked a little and rubbed at her eyes, before realising that was a bad idea with the mud still on the back of her hand.

She could've stirred herself into another full-blown panic attack, but the tiefling's offering of food just reminded her of how close to her mortal limits she was reaching. "I'm really dirty still, is it really okay if I come in, mister Fithgur?"

[Ceralune]

As Leptira inquires about whether or not it is alright for enter, those closest to the door hear light footsteps approaching from outside. A middle-aged woman walks into sight, just behind Leptira, bearing five glasses in her hands. She appears to be Varisian. Her long, dark hair is pulled back behind her, and she smiles at the five of you. Though, it is a bit strained, and there are dark circles under her eyes.

http://i.imgur.com/vNpTDim.jpg

"Welcome, all of you. Please, come take a seat." This last sentence she directs at Leptira, not seeming bothered at all by the girl's disheveled state. "You've been through a lot, there's no need to worry about cleanliness."

With this, she ushers Leptira to the remaining chair, flashing an apologetic look at Fiora. She sets the glasses down on the table, offering the last one to the tiefling who is standing. Then, she addresses all of you.

"Well, I know all of you already, but as you do not know who I am yet, I will introduce myself. My name is Zellara. First, I want to apologize for the unconventional way in which I’ve called you here, and thank you for coming despite how little information I gave. I have reason to remain hidden, you see – a vicious man would see great harm done to me if he knew I was reaching out for help. This man has, of course, done something terrible to each of you as well. I speak of Gaedren Lamm, a man whose cruelty and capacity to destroy the lives of those he touches are matched only by his gift for avoiding reprisal.

"I suppose you might have some questions regarding this whole situation. Please, feel free to ask." She then looks at you expectantly, before moving on.

[Merilan]

"O-oh, yes..." Leptira's fervour died down a little as she was ushered into the chair, staring a little at the food but kind of thinking it'd be rude to just dig in right away. "How did you know how to reach out to us, miss Zellara?"

[PersonMan]

Sancia's attention goes to the tiefling as she speaks. A few things spring to mind, but before she can decide what to say, the armored woman snatches up the wine bottle...with her tail. As the cork is more or less tugged off by the tiefling using her sharp teeth, Sancia can't hold back a whistle at the impressive, if decidedly inhuman, display. Even she isn't entirely blind to the tone in the room, however, and decides to hold back. For now, at least. She stays quiet while the two discuss what went wrong, and most of the events are painted in broad strokes by what they say. It tugs at her heart, and Sancia is halfway to saying something (this time decidedly less flirtatious and hopefully uplifting) before their hostess arrives.

The gesture at her fingertips already, it takes only a quick motion and a few syllables to draw out the shuddering heartbeat that sends chills through her veins, heralding the magical energy that flickers to life in its wake. As Leptira steps towards the table, Sancia softly smiles over to her. "Let me clean that off," she offers, waiting a moment to allow for a reply before making a few sweeping gestures, the mud sliding off of skin and clothing alike as if it were suddenly supernaturally slick. What reaches the carpet is caught by Sancia's second sweep, a dismissive wave at the remnants of city grime that leaves the rug entirely clean.

"Now..." Sancia murmurs, turning her attention back to their hostess. "Zellara; it's a pleasure," she says with a wink, before leaning back in her chair, taking one of the rolls with one hand and briefly glancing over to the tiefling. A quick nod of her head and a smile serve as her please-and-thank-you for wine, before she turns back to Zellara again. "If you don't mind my asking...what's it he did to you?"

[Ceralune]

Noticing Leptira's glances at the food, she gestures for the girl to eat. At the first question, her smile grows somewhat warmer, but at the second, it slides off her face entirely. "I suppose the answer to both of your questions starts with this," she replies, as she pulls an object - or objects, rather - out of a belt pouch. They appear to be a deck of harrow cards, much like the ones that the notes were inscribed on, though as she starts shuffling through them idly it becomes clear that these are the real thing, front-side images and all.

"You see, a month ago, his thieves stole this, my harrow deck, from me. It is important to me, an heirloom passed down through a dozen generations, and also my sole means of support. When Lamm’s pickpockets stole it, my son Eran tracked them down and returned my deck to me. But Gaedren had him followed, and soon after he left my home, Gaedren’s thugs… murdered him.”

Zellara’s face turns bleak, haunted almost, as she recounts her tale. “I sought help from the Korvosan Guard, but they turned me away. And so I asked around. I paid bribes. I consulted my harrow deck for advice." Her visage brightens somewhat as she continues, "That was how I found all of you, actually. So strong was my grief that it, combined with the powers my harrow deck gives me, allowed me to seek out others who shared in the collective tragedy created by Gaedren's crimes. I used that power to send you the messages.

"With that power, I also attempted to find as much information as I could to help you, in the event that you responded to the message and found my home." She casts a relieved glance at each of your individual faces. "And indeed, it seems you all did. I thank you once more. And I hope you'll allow me to ask for your assistance with finally apprehending Gaedren Lamm."

[Merilan]

Leptira gasped as Sancia's magic started to wash over her -- quite literally, the mud sliding off and the elf girl's eyes fixated on how the mud seemed to move with a whimsy of its own, whisked out and not even staining Fithgur's carpet! Wow...

She quietly picked up a piece of bread to nibble upon it, shuffling a little so that Fiora could put the wine bottle down without her getting in the way. "I'm, I'm really sorry to hear that, miss Zellara." She paused and nearly sunk into reminiscing of how her father was killed too, but shook her head. Elly was still in danger, she couldn't mourn those who're already lost when there's someone she could still save!

"Um, I'll help, of course... I'm not a fighter, but I can--" she hesitates, gesturing somewhat vaguely. "I can, um, put people to sleep?" At this point, her familiar, a strange but strangely adorable, fat reptile with a bird-like body and kinda derpy eyes popped on her shoulder. "Wah, Compa! Don't just show up like that, shh..." She pets it on the head. "Are you hungry?" She fetched some more bread to feed to the little dinosaur.

[PersonMan]

Sancia almost regrets asking, as she sees, hears the sorrow in Zellara's voice as she tells her story.

"When you say 'apprehend'," she begins after a pause, tapping a finger on the table for a moment. "Do you mean take alive? I intend to kill him, and it's probably the best way to ensure the safety of those he'd strike against if we only took him captive," Sancia continues, looking over to Leptira and remembering the story of her captured friend. The appearance of the odd...birdlike...reptile...thing on her shoulder prompts a raised eyebrow.

Not a good fighter, can make people sleep, has a strange animal with her, Sancia thinks. Well, looks like we've got a mage. That's when she blinks, frowns, wonders why she would still be muddied if she had magical abilities. Didn't most or practically all people with magical talent have the right spark for that? She decides to consider it later, possibly asking her about it.

[Bhaakon]

"Fisker, not Fithgur..." The rat-man mutters into his bread, but the protest is cut off by the arrival of their host before it can get rolling.

He listens to the woman's story. Zellara didn't seem particularly magical, but everyone knew Varisians were odd ones. Sticky fingers and strange powers. Why, her son had apparently robbed Lamm--albeit to return what was originally taken, but he must have developed those skills for larceny somewhere. She probably had one of her kin sneak the card in, or get close enough that magicking it onto his glasses was just a simple parlor trick. It made more sense than the deck itself being some sort of artifact. It had allowed itself to be stolen, after all, which wasn't very artifact-y.

"Eep." Fisker makes a rather embarrassing noise as the feathery lizard with the needle-toothed maw hops up on the little human's shoulder. His bald, unfortunately worm-like tail curls fearfully, anticipating nips and pecks from the miniature monster. Hopefully that pot belly made it slow...

"Wait, you say you spoke with the guard? A-and they did nothing?" Fisker asks, Sancia's question distracting him from the eminent threat of the saurian tail-biter. He hadn't gone to city's law enforcement himself, mostly because he didn't expect them to care what his sort of people had to say, but Zellara was a Tall. "Oh, dear. Then just apprehending him might not be enough. If he has friends in the guard, they'd just release him again."
Vigilantism was highly distasteful, in theory, but if the guards were bribed, what choice was there? Besides, Fisker's own interests, making sure his secret shame was never revealed, would be better served by dumping Lamm's body into the river than a trial and execution.

[Ceralune]

Zellara is quiet for a long moment as the others suggest a more permanent means of punishment. "Indeed, the guard turned me away. Said that they had 'bigger problems to deal with.' You may be right; they may have an agreement. I hadn't intended punishment by... death," she pauses, before continuing, "Considering the circumstances. We are operating outside of the typical law-bearers' influence, and I thought it might be too much to ask of you. But as I am asking for your assistance, I think it's only fitting that you have the final say in what happens to him. I only ask that you not let him go free - he must be stopped, before he hurts anyone else." Her voice takes on a steely tone as she says the next phrase: "Besides... I would waste no tears over Gaedren's death. And I would agree that it is exactly as he deserves."

"So, will you help me?" Zellara turns towards those who have yet to agree with pleading eyes.

[Bhaakon]

"Yes, yes. Of course I will help." Fisker's head bobs in agreement, tossing off crumbs. "M-maybe he'll make it easy and attack us. I...I don't know if I could kill a man who surrenders--even a drug p-peddling, slaving, murdering thief--but self defense..." He shrugs, not-so-secretly hoping it goes that way.

The man's crimes were numerous and foul, after all. He certainly deserved to turn up floating in the Jeggare with a knife in his back, but then so would the person who put him there if the deed were done in cold blood. If Lamm just died in an attempt at apprehension, well, Fisker's conscience could stretch, cheek-like, to accommodate that outcome.

[Red_Jenny]

"I'm sorry for your loss, Zellara. Your son was obviously a good man." Noirin is silent for a moment. As was her habit, it didn't last long, though her tone was more somber and respectful when she spoke up again.

"I'm in, if it needs saying out loud." Noirin didn't need much convincing, though she had plenty now. She was already searching for Lamm. Far as the halfling was concerned, this was just speeding things up. "Was already on a rescue mission. Been fearin' that Lamm got his claws back in someone very dear to me. Remember little Alika, Leptira? Been looking after her. Don't suppose you saw the Imp before you got away? Ah, no metter, I'll find her. I've been wanting to deal with Lamm for a long while now. This just makes things simpler. I'm all for sticking the bastard full of holes, too. That's unfinished business and a public service all in one, right there. I'll dance on his grave afterward. Happiest jig you ever saw."

If Gaedren's involvement in all of this was giving her new compatriots an unusually bloody-minded impression of the small woman, the absolutely delighted giggle she makes when Compa appears is much closer to normal. "Cayden's Cup! He's adorable! That's a new trick, too. Where'd he come from?"

Noirin taps the side of her head as a question pops into it. "So, ah, Zellara? Where is the old bastard? I've looked for years, but most of the Little Lamms can't say, or won't, and he's got half a dozen rat-holes to hide in."

"...Um, no offense meant, Fisker." Norin becomes very interested in the tablecloth for a moment.

[Merilan]

Leptira looked regretful as she shook her head at Noirin, even as Compa rather hungrily held a piece of fruit with both of its stubby little arms and gorged itself on it. You've scarce seen an apple lose itself so quickly, nom nom nom nom

"Oh, um--" she sounded hesitant, "She appeared to me not long ago in a dream, and I... brought her out of it?" She paused, sounding really uncertain, like people were gonna stare at her and say that she was insane. Heck, it sounded a little crazy to her, but dreams had a way of being very ... particular to her since she was small. "That's a very good point, though. When I was last led to the hideout, a sack was thrown over my head, and I hadn't been let outside... oh, if only I -- um, dropped breadcrumbs or something or another!"

[Vanguardian]

Upon hearing of the demise of Zellara's son, the face of the tiefling darkens and she stops waving the wine bottle around. "My condolences... may the Gray Lady safely lead Eran to the blessed Elysium where his soul can rest." Fiora took a moment in quiet admiration of the Varisian woman that even at her own son's grave thirsted only for justice, rather than blind and bloody vengeance.
"While tempting, in the world where Gaedren lives, his death will change little. We can scatter his body though all the districts of Korvosa... some deep within her, Fiora found that though more tempting than she was willing to admit it "...and it will take only a day or two before his death is forgotten and someone else steps in to roundup his Lamms and take his place. His place is in the jail, where the fear of him lingers in the minds of his willing followers to discourage them from stepping up to and taking his place while giving us enough time to find some better future to those forced into his service... and that is hardly an undeserved mercy for him. The Korvosan prison is not a pretty place for someone who has probably pissed the Cerulean Society one more than one occasion."
The regulated coexistence of the most of Kurvosa underworld with the city law was a secret hidden from none, but over the years by pulling the strings of the goons and ill-fated children under his influence, he has managed to find a place for himself outside of that system and while he meddled to little in their business to justify the efforts for any retribution it was most certainly enough to earn everyone's ire.
"I wouldn't worry about him getting through a meager month or two in jail neither with his freedom or his life. A coin or two in the right hand can get you much in Korvosa, but Gaedren is not the type of person to keep a stash in the Golden Vaults of Abadar. His only real treasures are his Lamms and his reputation. Left without both of them in the jail he will be at the mercy of the likes of him that have no mercy to spare."
The thought about Gaedren's time in the hands of a few Cerulean thugs or Sczarni lowlifes in the Korvosan prison placed a disturbing smile on the tieflings face, reveling the pronounced canines usually hidden behind her lips. Despite their many moral failings, the Sczarni in particular were not the type of people that would show much appreciation for the things that Gaedren has done to many of the varisian children over the years.

"Still, it may not be a bad idea to try and speak with Marshal Kroft before going for Gaedren... I very much doubt that she has any reason to hold the wellbeing of Gaedren dear to her heart and she has a certain... reputation for encouraging such vigilante operations, provided they don't disturb the normal life of the decent citizens. With her approval behind his capture it is more that certain that even if he has any favors to call from the city watch... his connections there will prefer to turn a deft year to his summons. Zellara..." the tiefling repeated the question already asked by Norin "...you said Eran has managed to get your deck pack from Gaedren's hands... does that mean you know where he hides?"

[Ceralune]

Zellara nods in thanks at the well wishes sent Eran's way. As she hears the news about what seems to be another potential victim at Gaedren's hands, a sympathetic look flashes on her face, but as the people before her start to inquire about the information she has gathered thus far, her expression grows worried, and perhaps even a bit ashamed. "Eran probably did find Gaedren's current hideout, but he didn't share it with me when he returned my deck, and he was killed before he had another chance to tell me. I had hoped that I would be able to find Gaedren's current location through my harrow deck, much like how I located all of you. As our shared circumstances enabled that bond to be made, I had hoped that my... experiences with that man would allow me to catch a glimpse. But... I am unable to discern his location."

"I cannot be certain of why this is. Perhaps my powers are simply too weak to accomplish this task. But I think it is for this reason: to be perfectly honest, it hurts. My poor son, who was so honorable and dear to me, was taken from me. While I grieve, I do not believe that I can devote my energies entirely to someone as despicable as Gaedren.” Her voice turns hard as she utters his name again, full with apparent emotion.

Her voice then becomes softer as she stops fiddling with the harrow cards, resting a hand on top of the deck. “However… my powers have not completely failed me. While they did not lead me to Gaedren, they did lead me to someone else… someone I previously did not know about at all.” She looks up at you all. “My son’s lover. It seems that he was pursuing a woman, and didn’t tell me. A month ago, that would have made me upset. Now… it is simply a reminder that my Eran had so much of life left to live, so much to live for, and yet it was stolen from him. It seems that this girl was also his accomplice in finding Lamm. He had to have found where Lamm was hiding in order to return my harrow deck to me, and it’s possible that he shared the location with this girl – Vira, I believe her name is. I have managed to discern where Vira is, and…” She stands up a little straighter, looking at you all with honest eyes. “and I need your help. If Vira indeed knows where Gaedren is, then he could be brought to justice. Will you go and speak to Vira? Alone?" She hesitates, before looking down dejectedly. "I realize it's a lot to ask, and I'm sorry to say that I cannot join you. Gaedren's men are actively hunting me, you see. But I am confident that my deck has shown me the correct location. While it may not allow me to see everything, not once has it ever lied."

[PersonMan]

Sancia finds herself swallowing a comment about being happy to go and visit a young Varisian woman any time, instead readying herself for another conversation with a grieving - wait.

"I take it we'll be the ones telling Vira what happened," she says after a moment, softly chewing on the inside of her lip. Another discussion with someone who would be grieving the same man. More of the sorrow she was trying to avoid. Hopefully the rest would be less unpleasant.

[Ceralune]

"I... I suppose you would have to. Unless she found out from someone else. I'm sorry. But she is the only person I can think of who might truly know where Gaedren hides, and we also must make haste. If Gaedren hears that we are searching for him, he may choose to move altogether. And then no one will have any clue where he is. It is far from ideal, but we must pursue the most likely lead - and at the moment, that is Vira."

[Red_Jenny]

Noirin lets out a strained breath through her teeth, worried and displeased that Zellara's lead was yet another "maybe", and not enthusiastic about having to deliver the worst sort of news to a stranger. She wasn't sure what to make of this. Zellara's faith in her cards seemed... well, let's be polite and say quaint to Noirin, whose experience with the Harrow was limited to watching fellow street-cons use them to bilk the credulous out of coin. Still, there were the messages. The card in her cup was awfully hard to explain away. And it wasn't like she had any better leads...

Ever forward, Nori! Even if it's right off a cliff!

"Well, right then. That's just a barrel of joy, isn't it? Still, well, I'm glad for the company, and it's more than I had ten minutes ago. I'll go. So, in that case, where might we find this Vira? It's... not far, right?" She asked hopefully. "I really don't want to have to chase you tallfolk halfway across town."

[Ceralune]

Zellara quickly responds, "It's not too far of a walk. Vira is currently in a small storage building near the Gold Market. I don't know the address, but the building is just behind Thudu’s Fresh Fruits. The building's gray in color and doesn't look too old. It's also an actual building, whereas most of the structures in the Gold Market aren't permanent. I do think you should try to find her today, just in case she ends up moving somewhere else tomorrow. And if it turns out that Vira does indeed know where Gaedren is, you should probably move to find him as soon as possible. Like I said, we don't want this getting back to him." She smiles appreciatively at you before relaxing somewhat. "I can't thank you enough for agreeing to talk to her." She then stands and starts moving towards the door, ready to see you out...

... before her eyes widen as she remembers something. "Oh! One last thing before I send you on your way.” She walks towards the chest of drawers and opens the top drawer, revealing a dark-colored object. Zellara lifts the object out of the drawer and comes back towards you, enabling you to get a clear look at it. It appears to be a delicately-engraved box, made out of wood and painted a light black, bolted shut by a silver latch.

“If Vira is indeed able to lead you to Lamm, you will have a very dangerous man to deal with. And he will likely not be alone. So, I offer to you a gift.” Zellara holds out the box to the nearest person, who happens to be Noirin. The top appears to be covered with a piece of parchment that bears gold-colored embellishments similar in design to the carvings on the box itself. “I received it from a client once in exchange for a reading. I confess; I have tried many times to see what was inside, and determine the exact nature of this magical item. However, all I could learn was that it seems to have some kind of intelligence, and a faintly malicious aura—.” Her voice breaks off suddenly, and she waves her arm in a reassuring manner. “Ohh, I did not mean to imply that this item is harmful! I would never give you a gift that would hurt you! No, no, quite the contrary, actually. Sometimes, when Eran or I got hurt, we would ask this box to heal us. It would usually shake a few times, and then actually do as we asked. Of course, we don’t need – that is, you will need it much more than I.” Her face grows somewhat sadder as something occurs to her, and she expresses it almost as an afterthought. “Eran used to always call it the Lifevessel due to its gift of healing. I promise, it has never done us harm.”

With that, she offers it to Noirin once more, smiling encouragingly.

[Merilan]

Leptira seemed a little loathe to relate the news of a dead lover to someone else, but at the same time, she wanted to be there to console her in a time of grief. This was someone who has taken so much from so many people, she couldn't really... sit by idly and let more people be hurt. "The Golden Market... okay, we'll --" she thought herself a little presumptuous to perhaps speak for the others, but she was a little bolstered at the moment. "We'll do that much, and speak to Vira... ah?"

The presence of the box had made her a little curious, and Compa also perked up at it, perhaps thinking that there were delicious fruits inside. "Is it all right to give us such a precious item...? Not that I would say no, the healing of injuries would be welcome indeed..."

[Bhaakon]

"Oh..." Fisker's eyes widen at the preferred container and its strange powers. "What could it be?" He rubs his paws together covetously. No doubt quite valuable, and, more than that, a mystery. A puzzle box, if you will.

"I can take a look at it when this is over." He says, nerves tamed by his curiosity. "I have certain tinctures to heighten magical senses even beyond normal magic. That should make it easier to suss out its nature. When this Lamm business is all done, of course. We should hurry and see to that, especially if this Vira is flighty. Strange to hole up in a building behind a greengrocer's stall."

[PersonMan]

"An evil healing box," Sancia comments, raising an eyebrow. "Well...it's better than no healing box," she adds after a moment, shrugging. "I'm ready when you are."

[Red_Jenny]

Despite Zellara's heartfelt words, Noirin's first instinct is to gingerly poke the box, half expecting something small, evil and toothy to pop out and bite her. When she remains unbitten, the halfling smiles and accepts the unusual gift, tucking it carefully away in her pack.

"Can't say I'm not curious myself. Thank you. I was about to say we'll put it to good use, but, well, I'd rather not use it at all. Certainly beats the alternative, though."

Noirin stands, popping knuckles and joints in a small chorus of cracking noises. "Shall we be on our way? Don't mean to be rude, but time's not on our side."

[Ceralune]

"It's perfectly alright. I truly appreciate you helping with taking down Gaedren. And I surely want for you all to remain safe. I wish I could do more than provide you with the Lifevessel, but it seems the same thing that enabled me to reach out to all of you is also the very thing that causes my focus to go astray whenever I try to ascertain where he is hiding. My son seemed to trust this girl, though. I am optimistic about this." Zellara speaks hesitantly, almost as though she is also trying to convince herself, as she manages a smile.

"As Noirin says, the clock is ticking. You should be on your way." She rises, and ushers you out the door.

As you all exit the cottage, a thoughtful look crosses her face, and she adds: "Since the item does seem to have intelligence – it responds to requests rather than actual magic, you see – one of the ways I tried to determine what exactly it is was by asking the Lifevessel itself. It never resulted in anything, though. However, maybe it will respond differently to you all if you speak to it. Lately it does feel… kinder, somehow." She offers you all one final smile, and then gently closes the door behind you.

You find yourselves just outside the cottage, on the streets.

[Merilan]

Leptira stepped out, and only after she'd taken the time to settle down, eat and drink that the feel of the cobblestone streets on her bare feet started to bother her. She looked down at herself, then to the others. She was really going to have to equip herself with... something... if she's going to be of any use to them. At the very least, footwear would be a good start. Perhaps there'd be something in the Golden Market that could help. "It's been, ah--" she sounded embarrassed. "It's been months since I was outside. Noirin, do you know where the Markets are?"

[PersonMan]

Sancia takes a moment to look around before turning back to the others, blade lying across her shoulders now that she's on her feet again. The look at the others, along with Leptira's own downward gaze, makes her realize that she isn't in shoes - and, unlike Fisker, is probably uncomfortable as a result. She considers the shorter woman for a moment, before speaking. "Leptira, if...if you don't mind, I think I could carry you, until you get some shoes. Gold Market should have something to cover your feet with, I hope," she offers, before turning to Fiora.

"I'd ask if it hurt, but you've probably heard that line before, so I'll just ask if you can carry my sword if I need both arms free," Sancia says, giving the tiefling a wink.

[Merilan]

Leptira's cheek scored red a little as Sancia offered to carry her, and she stammered, "I--I'd feel a bit spoiled, but it's true that my feet are really sore at the moment. If you wouldn't mind, then... until I could find some proper footwear. I'm sorry, it's just that I ran away carrying barely anything..."

Compa, on the other hand, looked really eager at the prospect of a piggy-back ride.

[Bhaakon]

"Carry her through the streets?" Fisker gapes in disbelief. Granted, there were some disagreeable substances lining the cobbles, but plenty of urchins and beggars ran around with little more--and often less--than rags tied round their soles. No doubt the woman was harboring ulterior motives. He would have to keep and eye on her, then.

"I guess we're not worried about drawing attention, then." He sighs. Though, with Fiora around, that ship had long since left the dock. Fisker himself might draw stares, too--certainly in the nicer parts of town--but at least he knew how to make himself unobtrusive. "Well if we're going to be drawing stares, then we might as well hurry."

[Red_Jenny]

"Aww, we're gonna get looks anyhow. Let her be comfortable, Fisker." Noirin couldn't help but smirk at Sancia's oh-so-generous offer, though she kept a weather eye on the situation, cute as it was. Leptira could look after herself, sure, but that didn't mean the halfling was going to stand to see her taken advantage of.

She nodded at Leptira's question. "Of course. I know everything." The grin grew bigger. "Gold Market's not far off. High Bridge Haberdashery's what you're after. They sell everything, not just hats. They'll have shoes and such, gear for travelers an' adventurin'. Hedge Wizardry's a few stalls down. If you've got a need for magical whatsits, that's your shop. Pick up a pouch for spell bits, maybe? Did you grab any coin when you ran?" Noirin fingered her own purse. It had a bit more in it than usual. She'd been saving up. "I can spring for a few things if not. Consider it a present for your getaway from Lamm."

[Vanguardian]

Fiora picked her own blade and the one entrusted to her. Carrying the unusual sword hardly slowed her down, but she couldn't help but wonder in the skill involved in wielding a blade of such an unusual size and balance in actual battle. A sight to be seen in any case.
"I will wait a few steps behind while you are approaching Vira. Even without me knocking on her door she will have enough stress for today... hopefully you won't need your weapon for that very meeting." the tiefling smiled at Sancia. "As for that thing" she narrowed her eyes towards the lifevessel, "I'd like to take a closer look at it before anyone asks it for any service whatsoever. Zellara seemed trustworthy, but this... hmm."
Fiora halted her instinct to grab the box from Noirin's hands and violently shake it until it starts screaming. Instead, just took a deep breath through her nostrils as if tasting the air around the box while her eyes turned milky white for a few split seconds (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/classes/core-classes/paladin#TOC-Detect-Evil-Sp-). "Well, it is not an imminent threat. Not to one blessed with the dumb luck of your kind in any case. Still... handle with care." she tried to mask the wishful thinking in her voice with another smile. "I'd like to have someone take a look at it, but we probably don't have the time at the moment. Let's head to Vira."

[Ceralune]

The Lifevessel does nothing in response to the examination.


You do not sense any evil coming from the Lifevessel.

You walk briskly to the Gold Market, Sancia carrying Leptira in her arms. Despite the horrendous story that Zellara had to share with you and the urgency of your task, the city continues on as though it’s another beautiful day – the sun shines down, casting its warmth on this otherwise slightly chilly winter afternoon. The streets are bustling as the people, poor and wealthy alike, are all busy with preparations for what seems to be a big celebration. Even those unfamiliar with the city customs can have no misunderstandings about the coming holiday as you pass by a small tavern, where the presumed owner is occupied with hanging up a banner across the building’s front that reads: 15% off all drinks! For the Glory of the King! Another nearby flyer features a picture of rather scantily clad women, advertising the “Fleylief Dancers,” who will be putting on a show in Eodred’s Square on the 16th for the king’s birthday.

As you approach the Gold Market, you first pay a quick visit to High Bridge Haberdashery in Eodred’s Walk. The man at the counter flashes you a bright smile and introduces himself as Qendak, the store’s owner. His smile widens as you confirm that you’re there to purchase something, and he quickly shows you to the store’s selection of shoes. Leptira then remembers that she doesn’t have money, but recalls that Elly had tossed a small sack at her before turning to face their pursuers. Bringing the bag out of the folds of her rags, she discovers that it is filled with gold sails.

You leave with not only new shoes, but also adventuring clothes and gear of decent quality, and a much lighter money pouch. A quick stop by Hedge Wizardry produces the necessary magical kits, though you’ve no time to make conversation with the owner and so you proceed outside to find Thudu’s Fresh Fruits.

The Gold Market is as lively as ever, with its vendors trying to lure you over to their stands and tents, which carry a variety of fresh produce and small, hand-made crafts. Immediately upon exiting from Hedge Wizardry, there are a couple of tents off to the right advertising their vegetables, and a small stand carrying various embroidered handkerchiefs.

After making nice with some of them, you quickly find a stall with a sign bearing the name you are searching for by the edge of the market, near where you entered from. A short, portly man stands behind baskets of pomegranates, pears, and grapefruits. He appears to be speaking with a young woman, but seeing your apparent interest in his stall, he grins and waves you over.

Peeking out from behind numerous crates stacked behind his stall, you see a rather large gray building clustered with two others like it, but much smaller.

[PersonMan]

Once her sword is safely in Fiora's hands, and Leptira has given permission, Sancia bends down and gathers up the smaller woman in her arms, one under her knees and the other supporting her back. During the trip she's somewhat slowed, but doesn't complain - the growing fatigue in her arms and back is easy to ignore for the trip, especially with the one she's carrying to hold her attention.

Inside High Bridge Haberdashery, Sancia returns Leptira to her feet, barely holding back the words that came to her when she first picked up the shoeless woman ("If you ever need someone to sweep you off your feet, I'd be happy to do it again") and instead giving her a smile. The matter grows much less interesting from there, as various things are bought and the group eventually returns to their search. When they find Thudu’s Fresh Fruits, Sancia first takes a moment to look to the woman by the stand, checking for the telltale signs of Varisian blood before turning back to the stand's owner when she finds none.

"Good afternoon," Sancia greets the man with a nod. "I have two questions I'm hoping you can answer - the first is whether that," she indicates the building behind his stall, "is open to the general public. The second is how much it would cost for...three of these," she adds, the hand not on her sword pointing down to the grapefruit. No better way to encourage helpfulness from a merchant than buying from them, in her experience. It helped that she was somewhat hungry - despite having eaten a roll or two during their talk with Zellara, Sancia had been carrying Leptira on the way to the market, which was enough to make her want a bit of a snack before things got too busy.

[Ceralune]

Thudu shoots you a surprised look, turning around him as if to confirm that the building you're indicating to is really there. "Goodness! My apologies, miss. In truth, I sometimes forget that thing is there. It's not mine, and I've never seen anyone go in. I've always thought it belonged to some higher-class merchant who didn't want to make the long trek to the Gold Market to store his wares. So, it sits there, unused. Waste of space, if you ask me." He brings his hand up to his chin in thought, then continues. "I... don't really know if it's open to the general public. Why do you want to go in, if I may ask?" He eyes your armor and weapons. "Are you investigating for the guard?"

Sense Motive Check results: You feel that the man is honestly curious, and just doing this for the sake of principle. He behaves as though he doesn't much care about what happens to the building. And unhostile. He's also very pleased that you're buying from him.

[Merilan]

Leptira let out an embarrassed little yelp as Sancia swept her off her feet, enough to make her blush lightly, but nodded. She perhaps was expecting just a simple back carry, but the lady seemed to have a certain sense of style of her own, and she wouldn't want to interrupt her, especially when she was being so cordial to her. She did shoot Noirin a pouty kind of look, though, the kind that says, 'Don't tease me about this'. She thanked Sancia when they arrived at the clothiers', bowing her head and-- maybe stammering a little more than she ought to.

At the Haberdashery, Leptira did dither a little as she looked around and realised she had no money... before checking into the purse that Elly spirited to her, realising that she'd sent her away prepared. "Elly... I'll definitely save you," she whispered to herself, before handing the money to Qendak and outfitting herself in basic gear.

She spent a few minutes in the changing room, and stepped out in a simple pale green gown and leather shoes, of decent enough make, although not ostentatious. She also fetched a walking staff for herself, which had curled along the end and sprouted a little flower, curiously -- a touch of the girl's unconscious fey relationship, perhaps?

"Um, we're part of the Merchants' Guild inspection group..." Leptira brought up a story out of the blue, "Like you said, we want to know what's not being used, so that we can assign them to other merchants who would make better use of it."

Leptira is a terrible liar! [roll0]

[Ceralune]

"Ohh! There's a Merchants' Guild now?" Thudu's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Are they finally starting to loosen up on the prohibition of unions...?" Thudu's voice trails off as he briefly considers that possibility. "Well, it would make sense. If they can have a Thieves' Guild, why can't we have a Merchants' Guild, after all? About time that old Garrick Tann started throwing us a bone, really." He turns to you with a smile. "Carry on, then."

As you all start to walk away from Thudu's stall, he brings your attention back to his grapefruits. "Ahh, now then! Finest grapefruits you'll find in the Gold Market, and for quite a bargain too! Just 1 silver shield for three! And, of course, you can take your pick." He beams at Sancia, motioning to the basket. Pocketing the coin, he waves you off and returns to chatting with other customers.

You approach the three gray buildings. All of them have locked door handles, and no windows.

From your shop dealings, you know that Garrick Tann is the Magistrate of Commerce. He collects taxes and is in charge of breaking unions, which are illegal and highly frowned upon in Korvosa, despite the presence and acknowledgement of the Thieves' Guild. This is a sore spot for many merchants.

You notice that the door handle to the largest building of the three looks like it has been tampered with.

[Merilan]

Leptira knew enough that bluff was a bit long on the tooth, given that her parents never spoke about a Merchants' Guild at L'Atelier, but that was the sweetest-sounding lie she could come up with on a short time basis. She walked closer to the gray building, but she didn't really have any, ahem, subterfuge skills... and looked gently to Noirin, wondering if she had something in mind.

[Bhaakon]

Fisker leaves Sancia to discussing those lying balls of bitter foulness in enticingly festive peels and skitters closer to the storage buildings. It would be nice if there were some hint as to which as the right one, but...wait, the knob on the door of the big structure. There were scratches or scuffs, hard to tell from a distance. Maybe it had been forced or jimmied. Well, that was a lead if he ever saw one.

Fisker glances over his shoulder to make sure that the merchant remains distracted by the chance to foist his pucker-inducing ball of lies on the unsuspecting Sancia, then makes himself small as he slips up to the door. He had a set of tools and probes he used in his alchemical work--useful for calibrating delicate apparatuses and handling sensitive tinctures, as well as getting into his reagent locker that time he'd lost the key. Of course he'd had to secure such tools through unsavory channels, and being caught with them might bring some trouble, so it was better if they weren't seen at all. Especially since he was technically breaking into someone else's property.

It's for the greater good, Fisker. You don't have time to get permission, and the woman likely won't feel helpful you summon the owner to find her squatting.

Stealth: [roll0]

Disable device: take 10 for 18. If I can't take 10, then [roll1]

[Ceralune]

The lock clicks, and the doorknob turns easily. However, the door only budges a slight amount. You can feel something hindering the door's movement.

The small crack in the door that you can peek into reveals nothing.

Attempt a Strength check, someone. :D DC 20

[Bhaakon]

Bother. Fisker's whiskers twitch as the door doesn't even open enough to take a proper look inside. Briefly he considers prying it open, but if Vira was paranoid to barricade the thing, she might very well be waiting on the other side with a crossbow lined up. Besides, neither mass nor muscle were on Fisker's side in such an endeavor.

Instead, he presses his mouth to the gap and whispers harshly inside, cupping a paw to hopefully muffle any noise that might escape in the market. "Vira? Are you in there? Z-zellara sent us, Eran's mother. She...she told us what happened to him, said that you might know where to find Gaedren Lamm so that we could...er...see to him."

One way or another. He adds silently, then continues aloud. "I-I understand if you don't want to open the door. Just tell use where to go and we'll leave."

[Merilan]

Leptira peered just behind Fisker and tilted her head, frowning. "Hmm... I hope she's in there... is the door jammed?" she whispered, as she tried her best to peek in but found nothing in turn. Scrawny as she was, she definitely wasn't going to be of any help opening this door. And she was too big to fit through.

Compa, on the other hand...?

"Compa, do you think you can--" Compa let out a little offended noise, but Leptira picked up the fat dinosaur and tried to see if she could ... maybe... possibly squeeze her through. ... probably not.

[Ceralune]

There is no response.

[Vanguardian]

Someone less skillful than Fiskers have already tried to reach Vira or these are her own marks from the time she... moved in. Probably the latter, the entrance to the building is still blocked and a makeshift barricade is hardly enough to discourage Gaedren's goons.
Without saying a word or nearing the door and risk making her presence known, Fiora sank behind the nearest corner and took towards the backside of the warehouse where Vira was hiding. The lack of any response from the girl was making her believe that she wasn't very eager to meet their haphazard group and the next most logical thing for her to do was to try and sneak from some window on the other side. The tiefling just made an U-turn gesture to let Noirin know what she was doing and hurried towards the other side with blade still in its sheath but ready to spring out at first notice of danger, but besides the rough gray wall of the building and the usual marked clamour there was nothing to grab her attention. She took a quick look to see if their actions have attracted any unwanted attention and then came back to what seemed to be the only entrance into the building only to see Sancia already leaning her shoulder forcefully against the door.
"Need a hand with that? There is no exit from the back, so if our informant was here - she still is." The tiefling said while moving into the doorframe and pushing together with the other woman.

[PersonMan]

For a few moments after retrieving her fruit, Sancia is busied by the task of peeling them (for which she enlists her blade, holding it steady across her shoulders and pressing one grapefruit just far enough onto the edge to cut the peel) and beginning to eat. As far as she can tell, there isn't much for her to do until the door is actually open...and then it opens. Well, not very much. Sancia puts her uneaten grapefruit away as the pause after Fisker's words grows longer, to the point that she's fairly certain he's either being ignored or talking to someone not present or asleep. Hopefully it was the former. It would probably become very awkward very quickly if they broke in to Vira's hideout and woke her up...

Stepping forwards, Sancia once again turns her sword to be point-up, resting it against the side of the building carefully. Briefly, the image of Leptira and Noirin working together to hold the weapon flashes through her mind, and Sancia can't help but grin to herself as she approaches the door. Before long, she gains a healthy respect for Vira's barricading skills, glad for the uneven ground to give her footholds. Her original plan to use the door as an opportunity to flirt with Fiora again fades away as the tiefling returns and the thing still hasn't moved. At all.

As Fiora returns, Sancia has her back against the door, feet set against two larger cobblestones, pushing against the unyielding wood before pausing to give Fiora a relieved nod, shifting to the side to let the armored woman have her own section of the door to push against.

Sancia is going to Take 20.

[Ceralune]

You hear a crack as Sancia and Fiora repeatedly hit the door, then a louder crack and the sound of smaller particles falling to the floor as the door bursts open. As light pours into the dark warehouse through the entrance, you see a wooden chair lying on the floor somewhat near you whose back is now quite heavily splintered. The light also falls on the figure of what appears to be a pile of old carpets.

From behind the carpets, you see a head poking above the carpets. As the figure slowly comes out from behind them and into the light, you see that it is a young woman of average height, with dark hair and eyes, but porcelain skin marking her as something other than purely Varisian. Her face is grim, as she stares at you with a determined gaze, a rather intricate bow in her hands as she points it at you.

http://i.imgur.com/L9w9dkd.png

"I don't know who you are, or why you're working for Gaedren Lamm, but I promise you I won't go quietly." She seems to hesitate slightly before steeling herself and adding, "And if you try to kill me, I swear I'll take at least one of you with me."

Noirin, Leptira, and Fiora all see that the girl, despite her apparent resolve, also appears quite frightened. There's a slight quiver to her voice as she references the possibility of you killing her.

[Merilan]

Leptira stepped back as Sancia and Fiora went about their difficult work; she'd offered to help, but thought twice as she realised that she'd just get in the way, or even hurt herself. Once they were inside, however, and having a bow pointed at them, she yelped and held her hands up. "N-no, you are mistaken! Please, I-- a dear friend of mine is being held hostage or worse by Gaedren, and I used to be one of his Little Lamms! We don't mean harm, we seek to help!"

Leptira is a bit more diplomatic, though. [roll0]

[PersonMan]

"No," Sancia says, pushing herself off the door to her full height. For a moment, she wishes she had her sword, but then again it may have provoked Vira to attack. "No, no, no - I mean, we're not - ugh," she pauses, raising her arms. "We're not. Working for Gaedren. We're actually planning to ki - er, bring him to justice," she explains, words finally slowing to a normal pace. Leptira's own may be better, and Sancia would probably have let her finish without her own frenzied assurances they weren't with Lamm any time in which she did not have an arrow pointed at her face.

"Look, there's no good way to say this. I don't know if you know, but Gaedren had Eran killed, after he returned his mother's Harrow deck. She found us, and we're working together to make sure he pays for what he did to her, us, and everyone else," Sancia continues after a pause, her usual light-hearted tone replaced by a cold, somber expression. "Zellara says you know where Gaedren is, and her Harrow deck let us find you."

[Ceralune]

"A likely story," Vira scoffs, her bow still positioned to strike. "Did you really think I'd fall for that ruse? Just because you say Zellara sent you doesn't mean that is actually so. Gaedren just as easily could have sent you, armed with a false story, hoping I'd come without resisting.

"So, if you're really here because of Zellara... how about some proof?" She lifts an eyebrow at you expectantly.

[PersonMan]

It's difficult, sometimes, to resist one's instincts. The finely-honed mental skill of making the right connections, taking the words of others and spinning them into a new, decidedly more perverse, meaning. Sancia struggles internally for a few moments, before giving in. She'll just...segue into the next comment as quickly as she can.

"False stories are the last thing I'd turn to to make a lady come without resisting," Sancia says, wiggling the fingers of one hand briefly before immediately continuing. "But - we don't want you to come with us. I mean, I wouldn't complain, but we're really just here to learn where Gaedren is, so we can go there and hit him with sharp pieces of metal," she explains, before pulling her shovel-struck Harrow card into view. "This is the Harrow card she used to send me a message. I found it with a shovel, so it's not exactly in good condition," Sancia explains, stepping forwards slowly to place the still-dirtied card on the ground closer to Vira, then stepping back.

It paid to give people their space, when they were pointing weapons at you; a lesson Sancia had learned young.

[Vanguardian]

"Look what girl, maybe we started this one on the wrong foot, but then again you are the only one with drawn weapon here. How about we do it like this: we will go out, our friend will lock the door once more and we will kindly knock, pretending this house belongs to you. You will tell us to sod of and in turn we will reply that first we need to know where Gaedren is hiding. You can assume that we work for him and are suffering from sudden loss of memory for all I care. In return you will tell us what you know and we will be on our way, hoping that you will be smart enough to find a place to hide that has at least few separate exits to spare. Fiora measured the steps separating her from Vira and adjusted her posture shoulder first to present more narrow target for her arrow "It's either that or I will be forced to risk an arrow to the shoulder before snapping that little bow of yours and hog tying you in more cooperative position... your call. You are the only track we have to Gaedren's location and only the respect for Eran's memory is making me put up with your bullbits (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=21511110&postcount=23)."

[Ceralune]

Vira looks at Sancia in bewilderment at the first comment. "... What?!" She tenses as Sancia inches forward and places the card down, then looks at said card with some amount of doubt. "I don't--"

"Well, well, well. What have we here? Looks like this thing works after all." A voice suddenly alerts you back to the entrance of the storage building. As everyone was focused on Vira, it seems no one was guarding the door. A tall, shady looking man stands there now, a longsword in one hand, a slender stick of wood in the other, and three more men behind him who are similar in appearance. He pockets the stick and grins. "Lucky us that you kept that bow on you after all, lady. And look at that - pretty sure that's the runaway from last night. Take the elf, kill the rest."

Aaaaaand here we go. I'll edit in the order soon after this is posted.

Aaaand order is:
1. Leptira, Fisker, Noirin
2. Vira
3. Goons
4. Fiora, Sancia

You do NOT necessarily have to move in the exact order. Just as long as you're within your number group. (Leptira, Fisker, Noirin go first in whatever order they want, then Vira, then Goons move all at once, then Fiora and Sancia.)

Map will be on the Discord in an editable file, but I'll also post the initial image here as well:

http://i.imgur.com/3ZnpAZB.png

Noiren Alvey: [roll0]
Leptira Bijel: [roll1]
Fiora Furiosa: [roll2]
Sancia: [roll3]
Fisker: [roll4]

[Merilan]

Leptira's eyes widened as the thugs came in behind them, and though her first instinct was to panic, some courage deep within her told her to stand her ground. For herself, for Elly. She gasped a little, and slammed her staff down on the ground and traced a little circle around it; a blossoming fey flower sparked from the tip and disappeared into little motes, as she closed her eyes and slowly chanted words that she didn't even consciously know -- words that came to her in a dream.

A sweet scent filled the room around the thugs, and bright lights started to affect the thugs' minds...

Leptira will cast Hypnotism on the thugs! [roll0] worth of HD will be affected. Will save to resist, +2 since we're in combat.

[Ceralune]

The two thugs holding the longswords shake their heads, as if affected by some unseen force, but ultimately their eyes are clear when they look up at Leptira.

"Say, boss... we didn't have to bring her back in one piece, did we? Just so long as she's still breathing..."

[Red_Jenny]

Noirin had been quiet (a rarity) during their walk through the market. She didn't have much need to spend money, though she did take the hint and buy a grapefruit (she'd missed lunch, after all.) She'd hung back while they'd bypassed the warehouse door, too. With her strength, she's have just been in the way.

Then came the thugs, just as it seemed they were getting through to Vira. It was never easy, was it?

Though inside she was tight as a spring, fighting down the instinct to flee, and channeling it into her desire to keep her new friends safe, outwardly, Noiron was calm as anything.

Adopting a bored air, she gave the thugs the tired smile of a long-suffering schoolteacher gazing up at a gang of bumbling students. She also drew her rapier, though at the moment she was using it more as a prop to augment her speech, swishing about as she gestured. "Ugh. Now, now, really? You idiots really want to do this here? Spittin' distance of the Gold Market? Shadow of the Citadel? Cayden's Cup, I though he might at least send the smart ones..."

"Come now. This is a nice part of town, gents. They look after it properly. All I gotta do is yell and the Guard comes calling. You think you'll talk your way out of attempted murder? Maybe, but you'll still be guests of the Castle while you do it. Run along. Go drown your sorrows by the docks for an afternoon, then tell Gaedren ya couldn't find her. He'll buy it. No need to spend the week in the dungeons. Or maybe you want moldy bread and grey water for every meal? Yeah? Sleepin' on hard stone? Gettin' your hide tanned for speaking up? Bundles of fun! An' you all look like the sorts who've been there. You know I'm tellin' the truth. You're in the dragon's den. Clear out, and you won't get eaten."

Swift action to activate Quick Hands, move action to draw her rapier, Standard to try to Bluff them into clearing out.

Bluff roll: [roll0]

[Ceralune]

The thugs chuckle, and the leader speaks: "With all the commotion in the Gold Market, no one's gonna hear your screams, shortie. There's no punishment if you don't get caught.

"Besides... no dungeon can compare to what the big boss would do to us if we failed. All or nothing, boys." The four of them reaffirm their stances, poised to strike.

[Bhaakon]

"SHORTY?!" Squeaks Fisker. The dire insult hadn't been leveled at him, of course, but the diminutive had to stick together. Even if the other person of slight stature was probably some kind of rapscallion and actually far, far shorter than Fisker himself, thank you very much. Besides, these oafs were clearly sent by Lamm to kill Vira and whomever else they found with her, setting them all on fire forthwith is entirely justified.

"How would you like it if people just started calling you blisters, sear, scorch and char on account of the terrible burns?"

5' step to G4, throw bomb at D6.

Attack vs touch: [roll0] (includes point blank shot)
Damage: [roll1] (includes PBS)
Splash damage to other baddies + (maybe) Noirin: 4, DC 13 Ref for half

[Ceralune]

The bomb explodes against the leader, and all of the thugs now sport severe burns.

Vira, seeing the two sides squabble and exchange fighting words, casts a regretful glance your way. She climbs up onto the stacked carpets near her and shoots at one of the thugs.

The arrow flies towards her intended target, and grazes his arm. What would have been a wasted arrow, however, actually seems to graze the thug's new burns, and he yells out in pain.

Enraged by the wounds they've sustained, the thugs fight back with renewed glint in their eyes, seeming almost desperate in their conviction to see the fight through.

The two with the longswords swing at Fisker, though it seems that the pain of the wounds is too distracting, and the swings miss entirely.

The thug with the sap instead aims for Leptira, remembering their other goal. Though this too, fails.

However, the remaining thug with the crossbow takes aim at Vira, perched on top of the carpets. His bolt manages to lodge itself in her left calf, and she lets out a hiss of pain.

[Vanguardian]

Move: Pass Graeywind to Sancia (masterwork cold iron falchion, 2d4 slashing damage, 18-20x2 critical);
Swift: Omen trait (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/traits/faith-traits/omen) demoralize vs. the thug with the sap [roll0] vs. 10+HD+Wis modifier of the target. On success the target is shaken (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/gamemastering/conditions#TOC-Shaken) for 1 round + 1 round for each 5 by which the check beats the DC.
Standard: Bite attack vs. the thug on E5: [roll1] attack, [roll2] damage on hit.
--(Crit. on 20: [roll3] critical confirmation, [roll4] total critical damage).
Seeing that the two armed thugs ignore her presence at the moment, Fiora focused her golden eyes on the one fruitlessly wailing at Leptira with his sap. "Ha!" she attracted his attention "Who bring a stick to a swordfight? Wanna play fetch? I will be the dog. the tiefling, still locking gaze with the ruffian, passed her bade to the armless Sancia and smiled to her target in less than sane manner, revealing her inhuman fangs. She made a threatening half-step towards the man who instinctively tried to step back, bumping in the wall beside him. Suddenly Fiora redirected her inertia, pivoting on her right foot, and pounced on the man in front of her. She burrowed her fangs deep into the man's shoulder while her hand grasped his face, muffling his scream of pain and surprise.
"You are afraid of Gaedren, no? How cute. Is he going to... eat you?..."

[Ceralune]

As Fiora's fangs sink into the thug's shoulder, he struggles to scream but finally falls quiet. Slipping unconscious, he sinks to the floor.

The man looks intimidated, though he insists on holding his ground, even as his leader falls to the floor. The other men do the same.

[PersonMan]

Sancia is never one to turn down a sword during a battle where she's without one, gratefully nodding to Fiora as the tiefling hands over her weapon. A moment later she sees why, and is transfixed for a moment by the sight of her armored companion sinking her fangs into one of the thugs. As the man falls to the ground, she turns away again, fixing her gaze on the crossbow-wielding one. "If you drop it before I get there, I promise I won't kill you," Sancia says, mostly to assure herself that she had allowed a chance for the man to surrender, before rushing forwards.

For a moment after her swing, Sancia is confused, before she remembers just how short Fiora's weapon actually is.

"Warning swing," she bluffs. "Better get going before I do a real one."

Moving to D6. Spending an Eldritch Pool point to enter Mystic Trance (no immediate effect).

Attacking The Competent Thug Crossbow Thug.

A: [roll0]
D: [roll1]

[Ceralune]

He gives Sancia a confused look, like she's got a few screws loose or something.

Suddenly, you hear Vira saying something over the sounds of battle. "Be careful! Don't let any of them get away! If they get back to Gaedren..."

[Bhaakon]

Fisker tries to scramble backwards, but his back slams into something hard before he can even take a full step. Argh, the stupid table. He remembers the inconveniently places furniture belatedly, only as Gaedren's sweaty oaf of an enforcer is bearing down on him. Instead he snatches the dagger from his belt and stabs at the man. It's really just the stout knife he used to open packages and skewer breakfast sausage, but it could pierce criminal swine as well spiced. Hopefully.

Probably best not to use it for food again if it hits, though.

Move action to draw dagger, standard to attack F5.

To hit:[roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Ceralune]

Said sweaty oaf of an enforcer flinches as the knife makes contact, but does not go down, instead glaring at the ratfolk in front of him with baleful eyes.

[Red_Jenny]

Noirin smiles in grim satisfaction as the goons get firebombed and bitten, though the shot Vira takes tempers that, and one of the thugs had the temerity to try to attack Leptira. That wouldn't do. Better his attention on her than any of her friends. She knew just how to do that, too.

Sliding along the wall, Noirin's voice is conversational, despite the chaos. "Y'know, the thing about being short..."

I'm not short, you're tall.

"It makes certain targets easier to hit." The rapier lances out directly at the man's nether regions.

Five-Foot Step to H5, Swift to keep Quick Hands up, Standard to attack the sap goon.

Attack: [roll0]

Damage: [roll1]

Edit: Crit confirm failed, rolled in OOC.

[Merilan]

Leptira let out a panicked noise and stepped back from the frenzy of battle, trying her hardest to keep herself together. She really hadn't expected her magic to work, given how she doesn't really understand how it worked... but she couldn't be discouraged. "Easy... be at ease," she announced, stamping her staff again as she looked to the thug with the crossbow, focusing.

Slumber on the crossbow thug! DC is 18.

[Ceralune]

The rapier makes contact with the man's leg, though it doesn't quite strike where Noirin had hoped. It does, however, draw the attention of said man, who now shoots a hateful look her way for having attempted that stunt.

Meanwhile, the thug with the crossbow doesn't even seem fazed, his focus still on Sancia.

Vira's gaze is determined as she tries to single out what target to aim for. Pulling her bowstring back, she releases it and sends an arrow towards the thug with the crossbow. It sinks into his shoulder, and he casts a startled look her way, as though he was so bamboozled by Sancia's confusing attempts to bluff that he forgot about her.

The remaining thugs are still on the offensive. One swings a longsword at Fisker, perhaps in retaliation for the prick of his dagger earlier. Though, the ratfolk proves too evasive for him.

The thug with the crossbow, still aware of the lady in front of him, takes out a dagger and aims a stab. However, this too, misses.

The thug with the sap is visibly shaken by the scary tiefling's display and words, but this causes him to fight back almost even more desperately. As he wildly waves his sap around in fright, his sap makes contact with Noirin's head, and it looks like a staggering blow - enough to knock Noirin unconscious.

Take 10 nonlethal damage.

[Vanguardian]

Full-attack action: Armor Spikes vs. the Thug on F5: [roll0] attack, [roll1] P damage on hit.
--(Crit. on 20: [roll2] critical confirmation, [roll3] total critical damage.
__Secondary Bite vs. the Thug on F5: [roll4] attack, [roll5] P/B/S damage on hit.
--(Crit. on 20: [roll6] critical confirmation, [roll7] total critical damage.
5 foot step: If the Thug is still conscious - move to E5, if he is not - move to D5
"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" Fiora hissed to the thug trying to rat-on-a-stick Fiskers and shoulder slammed him the wall behind his back. The hardened brass spike on her armor with the weight of a raging tiefling behind it met little resistance from the man's armored coat and his crimson blood sprayed from the wound. The force of the impact sent the back of his head hitting the wall with a dull thud and as the world in front of him began to darken he instinctively managed to turn sideways, presenting his armored arm to the maw aimed at his jugular.
"Here is a hint... The demonblood's tail made a loud crack into the air to emphasize her words. NOW!"

[PersonMan]

Sancia maneuvers the sword in her hands for a moment, getting a feel for the short weapon before lunging forwards, going for a slash across the crossbowman's torso, despite how awkward it felt to be slashing at such close range. Maybe, she considers, it would be worth it to practice with a weapon not as large as her own, in case this sort of thing happened...

Attack Crossbow-Thug!

A: [roll0]
D: [roll1]

[Bhaakon]

Fisker lets out a surprised squeak as the brute he's smoehow allied himself with shoulders the thug into the wall and--Fisker is quite certain--tries to take a bite out of the man. A distasteful approach to combat in more ways than one, considering that the criminal's flesh is both raw and unwashed. He'd have to remember to wait until after meals when dealing with the monstrous Fiora in the future.

But at least now he has some breathing room to work his own bow, which he hastily unshoulders and fits with an arrow. There isn't much space between Fiora and Lepitra, but he'd shot through tight spaces before. The gap is far larger than a swamp rat, which he used to bullseye in the warrens back home. The irony of ratfolk hunting rats was not lost on his people, but they were pests, and no one mocks a human for dealing with a monkey that steals and befouls their food. Probably. Monkeys aren't exactly common pests in Varisia.

Regardless, Fisker lines up the shot as best he can in the commotion and lets loose.

Move to draw bow, standard to shoot at B5. Should be soft cover, so +4 AC.

[roll0] includes +1 for PBS, -4 for firing into melee
[roll1] includes +1 for PBS

[Merilan]

Leptira took a step back from the sap-wielding thug with a terrified gasp as Noirin went down. "N-Noirin!" she shouted, then looked towards the curious artifact box the halfling had held in her possession. "Please, Lifevessel, heal her!"

Diplomacy to humbly request that the Lifevessel wake poor Noirin up! [roll0]

[Ceralune]

The crossbow shot misses its intended target, but doesn't hit any of the others either.

Leptira hears a rattling noise coming from the bag on Noirin's shoulders. Noirin does not stir, but the Lifevessel suddenly tumbles out of the bag and onto the ground beside her, still shaking incessantly.

Vira, seeing Noirin go down, takes aim at the man with the sap. This shot, however, goes wide.

The man with the sap is still visibly afraid, and he disregards the Lifevessel entirely. His next wild swing is not quite so accurate, but still manages to catch Leptira on the shoulder.

The thug wielding the dagger points it at Sancia once again, managing to slice her arm.

Leptira takes 2 damage, Sancia takes 5.

[PersonMan]

Likely to the thug's surprise, the cloth on Sancia's arm is quickly drenched in a pitch black substance coming from her wound, eliciting a grin from her. "That's it," she says, tone almost encouraging as she takes a moment to run the flat of her borrowed blade across her injury, leaving a streak of glistening black blood on it. Frost creeps up the side of the weapon with supernatural speed, quickly covering the entire sword in a thin layer of black ice; the air around it fogs, a chill gathering around it as it sucks in the heat from the air.

Then Sancia attacks, movement more energetic than before.

Swift action using Eldritch Pool to stay in mystic trance. Immediate action using Black Blood to give her weapon the Frost property for two rounds.

Next: go ham. Then step to K9.

A: [roll0]
D: [roll1] + [roll2] cold

[Ceralune]

The man with the dagger easily dodges.

You notice the Lifevessel stops shaking. On the top, a word blooms out of the parchment.


Hello...?

[Vanguardian]

Full-round action: Armor Spikes (charge) vs. the Thug on F5: [roll0] attack, [roll1] P damage on hit.
--(Crit. on 20: [roll2] critical confirmation, [roll3] total critical damage.
"THIS... ENDS..." the tiefling barrel rolled closing the distance between herself and the man attacking Leptira and without loosing from her momentum body slammed into him. The surprised ruffian managed to turn just enough to receive the main force of the hit into his ribs and as the air was being violently chased away from his lungs, he felt an armor spike puncturing his stomach, "right... now." With a twitch of her shoulder Fiora dislodged the spike from her victim and tried to calm the adrenaline rushing through her veins. "The next one of you to even raise a finger will loose his whole arm!"

[Ceralune]

The man with the sap lets out a strangled gasp as the spike pierces his stomach, and sinks to the floor with a thud, the pain of his wounds being too much to bear. He makes no further response.

The last one standing looks visibly unnerved at this point.

[Bhaakon]

Fisker curses as his arrow flies high over his target's head. At least it didn't hit anyone important. With a sigh, Fisker scrambles up on top of the still form of the thug in front of him, perching on the prone man's chest for a clear shot.

Move action to F5, standard to attack B5.

[roll0] +1 PBS, -4 shooting into melee.
[roll1] +1 PBS

[Merilan]

Leptira makes a pained noise as the sap-wielding thug strikes her, and whines as she fumbles away from him and towards Noirin's unconscious form to pick the Lifevessel up. "Please-- come on..." she begged, kind of -- shaking the box a little bit, as if it'll help.

Using the Lifevessel again... hopefully! [roll0]

[Ceralune]

The bolt lands in the thug's upper arm, and he lets out a distressed cry as his eyes wander to his fallen group.



The Lifevessel shakes so hard you almost drop it, and its carvings glow faintly in response to Leptira's pleading.

You heal [roll0] HP.

The writing from before fades away from the Lifevessel's surface, as new words bleed onto the parchment:


Mother... is that you?

[Red_Jenny]

"Uggh. What...?" Noirin's eyes flutter open with a groan. She looks around wildly before seeming to remember where she is and what's going on. Scrabbling to her feet, she rushes over and puts herself between the last standing thug and Leptira, who was looking a little wobbly herself. "You're finished. you can go home when this is done, or you can go to the Grey Quarter. Make the smart choice for the first time in your life, pal."

Move to stand up from prone, second move to D5.

[Ceralune]

Vira's eyes lock with the last thug standing, his face growing even more dismayed as he realizes what's coming. He quickly launches himself backwards as she nocks an arrow and fires, managing to get out of the way just in time.

Though in doing so, he leaves himself open to those near him. Casting one last glance at the apparent leader of the bunch, he hastily tries to escape into the street.

I only see Sancia directly next to the thug on the map, so I think it's only Sancia.

Make an AoO. And don't forget your extra 1d6!

[PersonMan]

Sancia attacks as the man lets his guard down, then wordlessly charges after him as he flees, her grin hidden from those still in the building.

Short post because of time constraints.

Taking the AoO and then attacking missing with the normal attack as well.

AoO:
A: [roll0]
D: [roll1] + [roll2]

Normal Attack:
A: [roll3]
D: [roll4] + [roll5]

[Ceralune]

The man is struck down, his body almost unable to take the vicious blow.

Vira jumps down and rushes over to see what became of the two of you, and lets out what can only be a huge sigh of relief when she sees that Sancia has managed to catch him. She slings her bow onto her back and starts back towards the stacked carpets, only to wince and look down in frustration at the bolt still lodged in her leg. She braces herself and extracts the offending object (it seems like the wound was not very deep, and the tips were not barbed), then retrieves some gauze from her pouch and deftly binds it to the wound with some bandages. ”Ahh, get that last guy inside and close the door, quickly.” She produces a lantern from behind the carpets and lights it as you do as she asks, illuminating the room just as the natural light is cut off by the door. With the entire room properly lit, you're able to see her living conditions slightly better. Aside from the very old furniture and carpets in the storage building, a small pile of fruit carcasses and other various trash sits in the far corner on the same side as the table. A package of lockpicks and other tools lie on the table, along with what looks to be a small healing kit on the floor that probably got knocked over during the fight. You're also able to take your first good look at Vira, under much less tense circumstances. The young woman looks... exhausted. Her shoulders slump as the adrenaline rush ends, and her eyes look weary.

Vira then goes to each of the men whom you fought, examining them and delivering a swift kick to the head to the one still awake, knocking him out. ”It’s a good thing none of them got away. According to what you’ve told me, if they had overheard you from earlier and got back to Gaedren, that could have seriously interfered with your plans. Looks like they’re all stable, though they won’t be waking up anytime soon. Which is good, because we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Finally, she turns to face you all. ”Well, you already know my name. I am Vira. I’m guessing Zellara told you? Ha… Eran told me that she didn’t know about me, but I guess a son can’t ever truly hide someone that important from his own mother. Especially when he was so close to her.” A shadow seems to pass over her face as she mentions Eran, but she shakes it off and her face takes on a serious expression. ”First things first, are any of you injured? I remember seeing you,” she nods at Noirin, ”Go down, but you seem just fine now. Ahh…” She catches sight of a bruise forming on Leptira’s arm, pulls out a potion from her pack and hands it to her. Seeing Sancia’s wound, Vira offers her one as well, though she hesitates slightly at the oddly-colored blood that hasn’t quite scabbed over yet.

”Don’t worry, it’s pretty easy for me to get ahold of these. My father is a priest of Sarenrae, so I help out at the Temple quite often. Besides… I owe you. You really helped me out of a tight spot. There’s no way I could have taken on all four of them at once. And… I apologize for jumping to conclusions earlier.” She has the grace to look down, properly ashamed, before raising her eyes again with a tentative expression and asking:

”Who are all of you, exactly? How do you know Zellara?”

All of you know that the Temple of Sarenrae doubles as a hospital, and that it is located in the Heights, the wealthiest district of Korvosa.

[Merilan]

Leptira shuddered gently with a soft noise of relief as Vira healed her; she bowed her head gently and said, "T-thank you. We... well, we first met Zellara an hour ago or so -- she'd summoned us all on the advice of her... Harrow? deck. She wanted to stop Gaedren as much as any of us do. A friend of mine is in danger..."

[Ceralune]

Leptira: Heal [roll0] HP
Sancia: Heal [roll1] HP

Vira blinks in recognition. "I see. You were trying to tell me earlier, right? That your friend was in trouble. And I... pointed a bow and arrow at you." A guilty expression crosses her face. "I'm sorry about that. Truly. Three days ago, Gaedren's men ambushed me as I was leaving the Temple. I barely got away, and the only reason they hadn't found me until now was because I remembered that there was an abandoned warehouse in the Gold Market. Been hiding here ever since." As she says this, she seems to realize something, and walks over to the fallen form of the thugs' leader, muttering, "How did they find me anyways? He said, 'Lucky us that you kept that bow on you....'" Shuffling around through his pockets, she takes out a slender stick of wood. "Hmm." She examines it for a second, giving it an experimental wave. "Looks similar to the wands that the clerics use. But I can't tell for sure." She hands it to the nearest person, Fisker. "You all should take it. You definitely earned this."

[Merilan]

Something bothered Leptira's mind as Vira spoke, and she spoke up in the midst of their conversation after she handed Fisker the wand, "Miss Vira, if it was a good thing you kept the bow, and they were able to find you... is there something particular about the bow that points your location out?"

[Ceralune]

"Ohh, I'd say my keeping the bow with me being a 'good' thing is very debatable. If my suspicions are right. Any of you have experience with wands? If one of you can figure out what kind it is, we'll have our answer there."

If anyone has Spellcraft and/or Detect Magic and wants to give it a go, now is the time.

[PersonMan]

Don't do it, Sancia reminds herself as she accepts the potion, visibly twitchy after the fight. This time she wasn't just holding back a lewd comment, but the (thankfully slowly fading) desire to mash the still-warm bodies of their attackers into pulp. The thug's blood on her face had cooled, and she wanted so badly to replace it with more, to hack at their corpses until there wasn't any of their crimson lifeblood left to spill. Instead, she gives Vira a smile and quickly downs the magical healing liquid, closing her eyes as the peculiar feeling of a closing wound passes. Then she repeats her earlier gesture, from when she had cleaned Leptira of mud, this time cleansing her clothes and face of blood before doing the same for her borrowed blade.

"Thanks, Fiora," Sancia says, giving the tiefling a smile as she hands her weapon back before leaning in closer. "If this happens again I may find myself hopelessly enamored in you," she whispers, giving her a wink as she pulls back before turning to the others.

"Do they want the bow?" Sancia asks, as Leptira and Vira discuss the comments of the thugs. "As for how they found you, well, I thought they had followed us, actually."

[Ceralune]

"Well, that is a possibility. Them finding me through you, I mean. I don't think they cared much about the bow... it's a family heirloom, but that only makes it important to me. Not them. More likely, they used some kind of magic involving my bow to find me. I suppose it makes little difference." Vira frowns to herself. "I was actually thinking earlier that I should get myself to the Guard, but I was worried that they'd find me if I tried to leave. I guess they did in the end, either way." Vira appears somewhat annoyed as she glances reproachfully at the bodies once more. "I should probably take this opportunity to relocate. Actually get myself to the Guard, while Gaedren doesn't know that his men are down.

"Ohh, yes - as for the reason they were after me in the first place... it's for the same reason you were. Eran is - was - a sweet man. Wanted so badly to help his mother... but he wasn't a fighter. So when he decided to try retrieving his mother's Harrow Deck from Gaedren Lamm, he came to me for help with getting in and out alive. And we made it... or so we thought." She closes her eyes in remembrance. "Poor Eran didn't deserve his fate. I was surprised when none of Gaedren's men came after me at first, but I guess it just took them a little longer to figure out who and where I was. Either way, he wants me dead so as to silence me, since I do know where his current hideout is." She pauses and looks at you determinedly. "I suppose it's only fitting that I tell my rescuers where that is, especially since it also happens to be the knowledge they seek." She gives you the first joyful expression of any kind you've seen from her, a small smirk that lights up her eyes a little.

"Gaedren Lamm is hiding in an old fishery northeast of here, at Westpier 17, in West Dock. You'll want to go after him while there's still daylight; at night, there are extra security measures to keep people out. But... now that several of his men are incapacitated, it's only a matter of time before he realizes something is amiss. You need to stop him before that happens."

[Vanguardian]

"Hope is only for the weak in actions..." Fiora winked at the dark blooded woman. "Although..." she tried to add something, but Vira started speaking and the smile on the tiefling's face quickly disappeared.
"So you helped Eran retrieve the deck? Was it from the same place Gaedren is hiding now? The fishery? Can you tell us more about the place? What can we expect to meet there? More of the same?" She pointed the unconscious ruffian in her feet.

[Ceralune]

Vira looks thoughtfully at the man Fiora points to, then says, "I don't know how much help I can be with describing the place. Most of what we saw was rather dark - we had to wait a few moments for our eyes to get accustomed to the poor lighting. We were going for stealth, so we didn't dare use any lights. The bad news - we had to slink around slowly, and we didn't see much of anything. The good news - we also didn't attract much attention, and it wasn't until we were leaving that someone actually noticed that we weren't supposed to be there. Zellara's Harrow Deck was also quite close to the door we came in from, just one room away. So we didn't need to do much exploring.

As for what I could tell... I remember a large room with a several human figures. They seemed to be working on something. All of them looked rather short, though. None were anywhere near the size of these guys." She gestures to the thugs on the floor. "I guess the other bit I know that could be helpful to you is how we got in. The front door was locked, but there's a loading dock at the side of the building, and the doors on that side to the fishery were open when we were there."

[Red_Jenny]

"Imagine you know more about such things than I do, but if you want a hand with the sparkly stick, I can give it a look." She slides up to Fisker and points to the newly acquired wand with an expression that doesn't bother to disguise her curiosity.

Noirin made careful mental notes as Vira described the hideout. Though this new lair was unfamiliar, she had a couple of educated guesses on one thing she'd seen. "Short? Could be halfling sailors? Or maybe some of the Little Lamms. It wasn't just stealing, he made us do all sorts of odd jobs."

"What's the neighborhood like? Is this place hanging out on some old dock, or is is all closed up with other buildings? Any good places for a lookout?" Noirin was trying to envision ways in, and it would be far easier if there were a few narrow alleys they could slip through to get close.

[Bhaakon]

Fisker seizes upon the proffered wand, clasping the prize in his paws eagerly. "Oh? Hrm, well, I don't really know much about using such things, but I know a thing or two about figuring in them out." He looks it up and down, but, of course, his magic wasn't the sort that could be summoned up with a few nonsensical whispers. "B-but it would take me some time to examine it p-properly. If you think you can do it now..." He cradles the magic item like a babe, loath to hand it over to anyone, let alone the disreputable Noirin.

But that's childish, of course. Noirin had just fought at my side! She deserves the benefit of the doubt! Fisker chides himself half-heartedly. Besides, she's a head shorter than you. Surely you can take her if she tries anything funny. With great reluctance he passes the wand over to the halfling.

Keeping one eye on the magic item--lest it disappear into someone's pocket while he's not looking--Fisker ponders Vira's description of the place. "A fishery with a loading dock...so is it out over the water, then? I-if we can get under it, maybe there are rotten floorboards."

[Ceralune]

As you continue to converse, Vira pulls out some rope from her bag and starts trussing up the thugs who attacked you. "It does hang out over the water, though thankfully Eran and I didn't need to examine that part of the building. The loading dock door worked for us. Though of course, there's no guarantee it will for you, and that also means I can't tell you much about that part of the fishery.

"And, well, it's West Dock. None of the surrounding buildings were particularly nice; most looked pretty run-down. I don't know if they were closed up, but I doubt you could really look at what's going on inside without getting in there yourselves. All of the windows were boarded up. I don't remember seeing many people around the area. The fishery itself had a fairly straightforward path leading up to it."

Vira straightens, all of Gaedren's men bound and tied, and retrieves her tools from the table. "Well, if that's all, I'm going to take this chance to get out of here. Hopefully the Guard can provide me with better protection. I'll let them know about the attack that happened here as well, and they can send somebody to pick up these... 'gentlemen.' The Guard may have their faults when it comes to dealing with men like Gaedren, but hopefully the facts that these guys are already incapacitated and that I know exactly where they are will convince them."

She flashes you one last grateful look as she opens the door. "Thank you for helping me. For the record, I don't forget my debts. If there's anything else that I can do for you, you can find me at Citadel Volshyenek. Best of luck to you." She gives you a not-quite-a-smile, then heads out the exit and blends into the crowd at the Gold Market.

[Red_Jenny]

"Best of luck, Vira." The halfling waves appreciatively as the woman takes her leave, before turning to the other curiosity at hand.

If she notices Fisker's reluctance, Noirin elects not to comment on it. "All right. Don't go expecting miracles." Noirin's grasp of magic was about the most un-academic thing imaginable, rather like her understanding of music, almost entirely instinctive, but she knew a thing or two that sometimes came in handy. She focused on the wand, humming under her breath.

"You, little stick, are... for locating objects. That's how they found her. It's got a couple of charges left." Noirin seems tremendously pleased with her small bit of spellcraft. "Anyone have something they need to find? Or shall we just be off to deal with Lamm?"

Casting Detect Magic, focusing on the wand. Also Spellcraft and Use Magic Device rolls, if needed, to have it all in one place: [roll0], [roll1]

[Ceralune]

You figure out that the stick of wood is actually a Wand of Locate Object, with 2 remaining charges.

[Merilan]

Leptira listened intently to the conversation, holding onto her staff and breathing somewhat faintly as she caught her breath from the rigours of the combat. "If we're going to go to this dock before nightfall, we need to do it soon... it's already well past midday..." She blinked a bit and smiled at Noirin as she identified the wand, squinting a little. "Hmm... I suppose it will be useful, but since we know where to go, we don't exactly need it at the moment...?"

[PersonMan]

Sancia smiles, then raises an eyebrow at Fiora's cut-off reply, but remains silent as the wand and further details of Gaedren's hideout are discussed. Eventually, a thought comes to her, and she turns towards Noirin and Leptira, hoping their experience under the man's control would mean they had the knowledge to answer her.

"So, Gaedren's people. How many of them are actually loyal? If someone walks in on us after we kill him or tie him up or whichever - will they just attack? Or could we take him out and break his whole gang up right after?" She asks. It would be a lot less dangerous, after all, if they had to go in, kill a man, then get out sneakily. Worse, if they didn't kill him, and had to drag an unconscious or struggling Gaedren through some back alleys...

[Merilan]

Leptira placed a hand on her cheek in concern. "Um, I'd say most of them aren't personally loyal, especially the Little Lamms, but in a way..." She dithered. "Removing Gaedren would mean removing whatever meagre paycheck they had, so they might still not take it kindly... it isn't necessarily easy to just run free onto the street... it's, you know... the hard place you'd choose over a rock." That was just her opinion, though, as she looked to Noirin.

[Red_Jenny]

Noirin nods at Leptira's read of things. "He might have a few diehards, but for the most part, I think they're like this bunch. Lamm's just work. Might see reason, or at least not feel like throwin' their lives away for the old prick, but ain't going to be happy with us."

"The young ones are a different tune. Don't think I've ever known one of us who was there 'cause they wanted to be. But 'Tira's right, it's no picnic living on the street. If it were, nobody'd end up under Lamm's thumb in the first place. So far as I'm concerned, this is a rescue mission as much as it's settling scores with Gaedren. The Little Lamms need a roof over their head and a warm meal in their bellies before I'm callin' this finished." The words have more conviction than anything else Noirin has said so far.

[Vanguardian]

"Let's deal with their bellies before we are started then. The varisian lady who tends to the shrine of Desna in South Shore also runs a candy shop nearby. For a humble donation to her goddess she will gladly pack us a basket of fortune cookies, jawbreakers and candy canes. I'm yet to see a child whose loyalty can be bought for a minute or two with a basket of candy and for a good reason. The same is probably true for the your average halfling sailor now that I think about it. Anyway, we should make haste. It won't be long before Gaerdren starts pondering what have happened with his goon squad." Fiora tied the falchion on her shoulder and started picking her own pockets with a tail for some spare change as she was making it for the door.

[Ceralune]

You exit the storage building, closing the door on your way out. Making your way back to the streets, it seems that no one has noticed your tussle with Gaedren's men. The merchants continue advertising their wares to the people walking past, and no one so much as gives you a funny look as you merge with the crowd.

The candy store that Fiora mentioned is a little deeper into the Gold Market, and the Varisian lady greets you all with a bright smile, introducing herself to you as Sorin. Pleasantries are exchanged, and you leave bearing a basket of goodies.

Having collected your treats for the Little Lambs, you start off towards West Dock. The road you take borders on the edge of Slope as well. Everyone here is decently-dressed, though some of the fashions could be considered more exotic than others, and you pass by what looks to be a library that appears small, but clean. The architecture is a subtle, but marked difference from what you saw in Pillar Hill, namely in how uniform it is.

The stroll through Slope does not prepare you for West Dock, which is clearly not as nice a place as it's western neighbor. You've proceeded only a little further into the ward when the salty stench of fish hits your nose, and as you move closer to the coast, the stench gets stronger and the surroundings more run-down. Everyone here seems to be working, whether that work is gutting fish or patching a roof or reeling in a line with (hopefully) something on the other end. Many of the buildings you pass have seen better days, and none are as neat as those of Slope.

Finally, you reach the harbor. The stink is especially prevalent here, and various structures are perched along the shore. You find Westpier, which has only a few buildings, all of which look to be in a decrepit state and are rather spaced out. Examining them, you eventually find the one that has a rusty, half-rotted sign hanging from a short post and reads: "17."

Whoever's buying the candy, deduct ~2 Gold Sails (or however much you wish to donate).

[Bhaakon]

A gift of rotten teeth. Fisker mutters to himself as the other pick out the colorful treat. He, of course, took immaculate care of his own dentition, employing a proprietary saleratus and cinnamon oil polish followed by a long chew on an apple-wood gnawing rod. Bruxing in public certainly wouldn't do, after all. He'd tried to sell his cousins on the concept, but, alas, they saw no problem with rancid breath and constant tooth grinding.

Once that matter is attended to, Fisker follows the others through the outskirt of Slope. He'd not ventured into the area much--they'd never thrown him out, but the way the better sort of people carried themselves around him made it clear he wasn't welcome. Pointedly ignoring the ratfolk, resting a hand on their valuables, taking a roundabout route to their destination in order to avoid him.

This time the presence of other Talls made it less intimidating, and the fact that some of them were...visibly odd let Fisker convince himself that those avoiding the group weren't actually avoiding him.

The docks, sadly, were much more like his home in Old Korvosa. He'd almost gotten used to the fish stink, to the point where he wondered if he carried the scent around with him when he left his slum and just didn't notice it. Perhaps that was why well-heeled people avoided him...

But that's a thought for another time. After they've dealt with Lamm, one way or another.

"Sh-should we just storm in?" He asks, looking up at the others (save Noirin). "We have surprise on our side, I believe. Maybe numbers, too, with so many of Lamm's toughs knocked out back in the market."

[Vanguardian]

"Well... let's fog in instead. There is no need for Gaedren to know about our arrival from its very beginning if we can help it. If we can find some less obvious entrance... back door or a low-hanging window. A fishery does not sound like a place of quiet contemplation so unless we let someone run and warn Gaedren or tear the whole place down - we shouldn't attract his attention before it's to late for him."

Fiora wasn't eager to fight with toddlers, but she was well aware than a man like Gaedren won't hesitate to use anyone to his advantage. After loosing her bestial temper in the fight a while ago, she was way more focused on preventing herself hurting someone she'd rather not hurt, than discussing detailed tactical approaches with her followers. "After all things go according to plan only while they aren't going anywhere."

[Merilan]

Leptira put a hand to her cheek in thought, starting to really recall the building she'd just escaped from. By the way she ran last night...

"All the Lamms are on the top floor," she pointed, "Though I wasn't allowed around except the room I worked and slept in. There's a door that us Lamms all use, but it's locked... well, we can possibly pick it or smash it, but it'd be noisy."

A pause, as she furrowed her brow further with an upset look. "The people to look for would be-- um, Hookshanks and Giggles. They're like our... taskmasters, I guess. Hookshanks dresses up like an orphan and tells scary stories to keep the younger ones in mine, but, Giggles, um, he has ... a flail..."

She paused and rubbed her back for a moment. "There's also a mean dog called Bloo. But, if we take those two out, that should be most of our problems. I really don't want to hurt any of the Lamms, and they should be mostly happy to just stay out of the way, I hope..."

[Red_Jenny]

"Hookshanks and Giggles are still alive? Damn." Noirin grumbles as Leptira lays out what she knows. "We shoulda swung by the butcher's if there's a dog. Candy for kids, steak for pups. Never been here myself. Like the idea of slipping in the back a lot more than I do just charging in blind, though." She absently ran a hand through her hair several times, turning it into even more of a rat's nest. "That looks... fragile, yeah?" She glanced around at the tallfolk and the fellow carrying firebombs, and decided against the rather nasty and rickety looking boardwalk to the right.

"Well, let's take a look-see around that end. Vira said they just ducked right in, got to be a way to do that..." Noirin glanced down at the river and something flickered in her mind. She caught Leptira's eyes and mimicked chomping jaws with one hand.

"Ah, 'fore we go in, there's one other thing to look out for. Gobblegut. Lamm's got a pet gator. Er, that's what they say, at least. Never saw it myself, but everyone was dead sure the beast was real."

Move to C2? Whatever lets you see around the corner to the left. Perception: [roll0]

[Ceralune]

As Noirin turns the corner, she sees a short ramp leading up to what appears to be a loading dock, in poor condition. The dock goes up to a large door, which appears to be open.

[PersonMan]

After a moment, Sancia follows Noirin, approaching slowly and giving a look around the corner. Luckily, there's a distinct lack of angry-looking thugs there, and there's even a way in. Unfortunately, there also isn't a small crowd of orphans looking to accept their sweet bribe and run off to somewhere with far less violence in its future, which means it's more likely that they'll run into them inside, at the same time as Gaedren and his oddly-named enforcers. The dog, too. And the alligator, if it's real. Which Sancia hopes isn't, but can't help but expect to find in there somewhere. Better to hope it was a rumor and expect it to be there than be surprised when it took a chunk out of her, after all.

"Looks like there's not much to do apart from go in," Sancia says to the others, keeping her voice down - she'd done enough snooping to know that run-down walls had a tendency to let in noise. "Do we have someone try and check for his goons first, or just go in as a group?"

[Bhaakon]

"We should all go in..." Fisker answers, hanging back. "I d-don't want to run into that Bloo by myself." Dogs were nearly as bad as cats in temperament, except generally larger. More than once he'd had to bandage his tail after a savage nipping by guard dogs, strays, or the vicious, ankle-biting lapdog owned by his landlady. At least with people he could call the guard in them, in theory, but no one answered a hue and cry to deal with a manner-less cur unless it was rabid. They'd just laugh and point at poor Fisker as he dragged around a mongrel latched to his tail.

[Merilan]

"Y-yes," Leptira also agreed readily with Fisker. "I wouldn't know how useful I'd be if I got caught alone... I'll try to put anything asleep, but-- um, to be honest, I'm still not sure how my magic works..."

[Red_Jenny]

"I'm all for going in together, and someone big and brave and tall to hide behind. Before we all go chargin' in, banners flying, let's make sure it's not right into a trap." Noirin padded softly up the loading dock and carefully peered around the corner, through the open doors.

Perception: [roll0]
Stealth: [roll1]

[Ceralune]

As you peek around the corner, it's a bit difficult to make out what's going on in the room due to the only source of light being the open doors. But you can see a desk off in the far corner, and a cabinet off to the side. The floor is filthy, covered with a substance that you're not sure about, but that looks grimy and blackened. The color is somewhat more discernible near the large trough off to your left, where you can see that it is more of a silvery gray. You can see 4 little heads moving about, busying themselves with something or another, carrying around what looks to be pitchforks as they work.

[Red_Jenny]

It takes a lot to make someone who grew up in alleys gag. The mass of grime almost manages it. Taking a deep breath of the relatively fresh (if fishy) outside air, Noirin holds up four fingers and gestures to her head before calling out in a stage whisper.

"Some sort of office? Can see a desk and such. Four little ones. Got pitchforks, so be easy. Time to see if those sweet treats work."

[Merilan]

Leptira was a bit more used to all the fishy smells inside, rank as it was. "I'll see if they're Lamms I recognise," she whispered back to Noirin, trying to muster up her courage. She held up the pack of treats and peered around the corner again, to see if they're anyone she might recognise.

[Ceralune]

Leptira's low-light vision allows her to see a little more clearly. In addition to the four that Noirin pointed out, you see an additional child feeding fish into the trough, which then disappear down the chutes in the wall. All five wear the rags that you're accustomed to, and you recognize one of them as Borcun, a Little Lamb who's only a little better at pick-pocketing than you are. He wears a miserable look on his face as he shoves his pitchfork into a pile of small, silvery fish and trudges over to the trough, releasing the bunch into the chutes.

[Bhaakon]

"M-maybe if we get the kids to stop working, someone will come and s-see what's wrong." Fisker suggests. He glances at Lepitra. "You can make them sleep, yes? That should make it easier to take them quietly. I-if we're lucky, they'll come to investigate one at a time."

[Merilan]

Leptira shook her head and patted her chest. "L-let me try talking to them, I know one of them." She glanced around to make sure it was safe, then slipped in and whispered in a beckoning hiss, "Borcun! Borcun, it's me, Tira." She held her hands up and put her hand to her lip. "Shh... all of you. I'm here to help you."

[Ceralune]

Five heads look Leptira's way, all of them bearing some amount of confusion. Borcun blinks at you, surprised, and shakes his head a couple of times before looks her way again. "Leptira? Is that you? You look... very clean," he murmurs, taking note of your new clothes. "Who are these people?" he asks, giving apprehensive glances at the others. "The boss, he... he wasn't happy you left." Borcun pulls aside the ragged sleeve on his arm, revealing fresh bruises. "He'll get mad if he sees strangers here," he speaks, a tremble in his voice as it starts to give way to a wail.

While Borcun speaks, the three of you notice that one of the Little Lambs is behaving slightly differently from the others. He bears the same nervous, almost frightened look that the others do, though he slowly moves closer to the door across the room from you upon seeing you.

[Red_Jenny]

"Hush, now. Easy. We're all friends. Name's Noirin. Used to be one of you m'self. 'Tira can vouch for that. Now listen close, all right? Don't want Hookshanks to hear, right? Gaedren won't be gettin' mad at anyone, not after we're through here." Noirin pats the hilt of her rapier, to make sure the boy understands the finality of what she's saying.

"None of those bastards is ever going to so much as raise a hand toward any of you. Not any more. You'll all be going free, and you'll have good food and proper beds an' kind folk lookin' out for you by the time the sun sets. That's a promise, and I swear on my soul." Despite the fierce content of her words, Noirin's voice is low and sweet, almost as if she were singing, doing her best to put the Little Lamms at ease.

She smiled at the Lamm edging toward the door and beckoned him back toward the others. "Aw, come on, kid. It's all right. We won't bite. Honest! Don't be runnin'. We don't want any of you gettin' hurt. What's your name, lad? You lot look famished. Want somethin' sweet?"

Diplomacy: [roll0]

[Ceralune]

The boy flinches as Noirin addresses him, but slowly walks away from the door and up to Noirin. "My name is Henri, miss." Henri sports filthy rags and chopped, brown hair, and looks up tentatively at Noirin with large, wary eyes. In addition to his pitchfork, which he leaves by the door, he carries a curved knife that appears to have fish blood and guts along the edges. He gives the group a once over. "Why are you here?"

[Red_Jenny]

"Good to meet you, Henri." Noirin motioned to the basket of goodies Fiora had wrangled from Colorful Confectionery. "Take what you like, lad, but leave some for the rest of you, all right?

"We're here to make sure Gaedren gets what's coming to him, for one. He's hurt too many people for too long. No more of this." She points to the bruises on Borcun. "Or this." The fishgut stained knife and the rancid, scale-slicked trough. "We're also here lookin' for friends. A rescue mission!" Noirin says conspiratorially, as if letting the Lamms in on the most vital secret in the world. "And we're gonna make sure the rest of you get put right while we're at it. So, hows about it, Henri? You look like a clever sort. Point us in the right direction?" Her eyes flicker hopefully to the other Lamms as well.

Diplomacy: [roll0]

[Ceralune]

Henri's eyes light up at the sight of the basket of goodies, but his mouth to twists into a sneer. Suddenly, his large eyes are not a reaction of fright, but an actual facial feature. "Ohh, gladly!" Before Noirin can react, he snatches the entire basket from Fiora's hand and moves to strike with his knife, though in his haste he does so clumsily and only leaves a scratch on her armor. With the rapid motion, his rags move to partly reveal studded leather, and well-made boots. This is no Little Lamb.

Scoffing, he addresses the Little Lambs without taking his eyes off of you, speaking in a much more acerbic tone than before. "I think the boss would like to hear about your 'plans.' One of you, open the door and let Bloo in here! Find Yargin and give him a message from Hookshanks: we have intruders! Quickly now, unless you'd like Bloo to be taking a bite out of you instead."

The orphans tremble at the threat, and the girl nearest to the door moves to do just that, opening the door and racing into the next room.

Combat starts. Initiative Order below:

Group 1: Little Lamb #1
Group 2: Noirin and Leptira
Group 3: Hookshanks
Group 4: Fisker, Little Lamb #3 & #4,
Group 5: Fiora, Sancia, Borcun
Group 6: Bloo

Little Lamb #1 has already acted (and I swear I made her roll to be able to exit the room immediately), so it is Group 2's turn (Noirin and Leptira).

Noirin Alvey: (1d20+3)[14]
Leptira Bijel: (1d20+4)[14]
Fiora Furiosa: (1d20+1)[6]
Sancia: (1d20+3)[5]
Fisker: (1d20+6)[13]

Lamb #1: (1d20+3)[23]
Other Lambs: (1d20+3)[9]

[Merilan]

"Y-yes, Bocrun, Noirin used to be a Lamm... she's really good, she'll get you all to safety," Leptira reassured the boy, before glancing to where Henri had gone off, with slightly wide eyes as he drew a knife and struck, gasping. "N-no, wait-- don't listen to him!"

She grimaced again and closed her eyes, extending her hand. "Enough of your mischief!" She concentrated, and the fey-weave patterns started to glimmer in her hands again, and she attempted to put the boy to sleep.

Slumber on Hookshanks!

[Ceralune]

Hookshanks appears as though he's fighting off drowsiness, but stays on his two feet, awake. "Hmph. Don't think I don't recognize you. You've got a world of punishment coming to you for all the trouble you've caused," he growls.

[Red_Jenny]

Noirin flinches in alarm, but it swiftly turns into a snarl. She stepped inside to face the gnome eye to eye. "Shoulda known it was you, Hookshanks. Shame. I did like your stories. They were always so funny." The halfling punctuates the last word with a vicious snap of her fingers.

Using Hideous Laughter on Hookshanks. DC 15.

[Ceralune]

Hookshanks covers his mouth for a brief moment, as if trying to keep back a giggle that tries to escape from his throat. But it passes quickly, and he glowers at Noirin for a moment before blinking in realization. "So, the lost little sheep decided to bring back the black sheep of the Little Lambs with her. A fortunate thing that you came back willingly. We can finally deal with you," he mutters, as if Noirin is an irritating itch on his back that he can finally scratch.

He moves with his knife, nearly catching Noirin by the arm, though ultimately coming away with no new blood on his knife.

One of the orphans looks apprehensively at the targets Hookshanks wants him to attack, prodding with his pitchfork. Though his hesitance and fear prevent him from landing a blow.

Another orphan skirts around the trough, moving with surprising ease about the slippery floor around its base, and attempts to do as the other boy does, though having no greater success than he.

[Bhaakon]

"W-what a bullheaded goon..." Fisker mumbles as brute shakes off all magical assaults. He'd heard that some spells just didn't work well on animals, so perhaps that man was too stupid to be effected by enchantments.

No, it looked like they'd have to do this the loud, messy way. As much as it would make things easier, burning down a building full of children probably wasn't going to help Fisker's reputation--also, it was morally wrong--so it would have to be arrows. He pulls back on his bow and lets fly.

Looking at the map, I think he gets cover, so +4 AC.

[roll0] includes +1 for PBS
[roll1] includes +1 for PBS

[Ceralune]

The arrow sinks into Hookshanks's left arm, though it doesn't seem to be particularly painful as he doesn't even wince.

Meanwhile, Borcun looks terrified at the thought of having to face Bloo, but he glances over at Leptira and Noirin with a glimmer of hope in his eye. Seeing the newcomers successfully strike Hookshanks seems to cause a shift in him. He becomes resolute as he shoves his pitchfork into a nearby pile of bleeding fish and hurls them at Hookshanks, nailing him in the face. He brings it back to his side and shouts,

"This is our chance to strike back at Gaedren Lamm and escape! Are you really going to waste it and let this gnome get away with beating you back into following orders again? When we outnumber him so greatly?"

His words seem to stir a change in the other orphans, who glance at Hookshanks doubtfully.

[PersonMan]

Disappointed by the situation - really, things had been looking up until one of the Lamms turned out to not be an enslaved child at all, instead being one of Gaedren's enforcers - Sancia lifts her weapon off her shoulder, hands closing around the grip as Hookshanks seems to resist all of the magic thrown at him. He also seems to resist being hit by an arrow, and a pitchfork. Really, that was more relevant to her here. Sancia moves forwards, bringing one hand forwards and closing her hand around the middle portion of her blade, thrusting it forwards at Hookshanks.

Five foot step forwards, melee reach. Attacking Hookie.

Not going into mystic trance yet. Gotta conserve those remaining Arcane Eldritch points.

A: [roll0]
D: [roll1]

[Ceralune]

Borcun's distraction causes Hookshanks to drop the basket as his hands fly to his face to try and wipe away the fish, sending candy packages onto the floor, and provides Sancia with a nice opportunity to make a strong swing at Hookshanks. Her sword catches his thigh, and he looks visibly dismayed and pained now... from the parts of his face that you can see through the remaining fish grime.

Unfortunately, some of the candy packages burst upon falling to the floor, and scattered jellybeans and lemon drops now litter the floor around Hookshanks.

Area in the yellow square is now difficult terrain. Or move at full speed and attempt a DC 10 Acrobatics check to not slip on the fairly round pieces of candy.

[Ceralune]

Following up on Sancia's sword swing, Fiora unsheathes her falchion and strikes at Hookshanks while he is blinded. The sword hits true, slicing through his armor, giving him a nasty cut in his side. He falls to his knees, appearing too pained to attempt any further strikes. Instead, he gasps,

"Where is that blasted dog...?"

Just as he says this, a large, mangy creature with matted brown fur comes charging out of the open door. The Little Lambs shriek at the appearance of Bloo, the dog, but for once he pays them no mind, instead eyeing the intruders and growling menacingly. Skirting the dropped candy, he launches himself at Noirin with snapping jaws, sinking his teeth into her shoulder dangerously close to the jugular vein.

Noirin takes 9 damage. :c

[Merilan]

Leptira stood her ground, grimacing -- Bocrun was being brave, she needed to be brave too, but they needed to finish this quick if she didn't want the other Little Lamms to get hurt. She didn't want them to be swinging pitchforks around if they didn't have to.

One more time.

"Fey winds, bring forth the bliss of restful sleep!" she exclaimed, stamping her flower-ended staff and pointing it to the big dog that just harmed Noirin.

Slumber on Bloo!

[Ceralune]

Bloo is much too excited to even think about sleeping, even under the influence of magic. He continues barking at the intruders with not even a yawn.

Meanwhile, Hookshanks mutters, "About time," and tries to crawl away from the ruckus, clutching his wound with his free hand.

The orphans all look petrified as Noirin goes down, not moving to attack but not moving to help either.

Hookshanks hath moved. Leptira, Sancia, and Fiora get AoOs.

[Red_Jenny]

Noirin manages a strangled shriek as Bloo's teeth crunch through her armor. She collapses, eyes rolling back as she crumples, but remains breathing steadily.

Stabilizing roll made in OOC, passed.

[Bhaakon]

Seeing the heinous hound bound in and sink its teeth into Noirin is quite enough for Fisker. No doubt the thing it trained to gnaw on Lamm's child labor force, and the slavering beast probably can't tell much difference between a sniffling child and a respectable alchemist of significantly below-human-average stature. No, he's let the halfling handle the mutt and keep well to the rear, instead choosing to plink away at the oafish Hookshanks as the man attempts to use the poor urchins as a barricade.

"Y-yes, that's it! plug its maw with your arm! Soon it will exhaust itself worrying the limb!" Fisker encourages Noirin as he looses his arrow.

No move, standard to shoot at Hookshanks. Should be +4 AC for cover, I believe.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[Ceralune]

Fisker's arrow pierces through Hookshanks's back, eliciting a startled cry from the gnome before he falls silent, collapsing onto the floor.

[PersonMan]

Sancia moves forwards, going a bit more slowly than usual to kick swathes of candy out of her way, forming a quickly-collapsing path through the scattered sweets as she shifts her grip on the weapon. Moving to make sure Noirin will - even once she returns to her already short height when she is healed - not be in the way. Then, sweeping her feet and sending a dozen jelly beans rolling across the floor, Sancia brings over five feet of steel to bear against the dog.

Moving through the difficult terrain, Swift action to swap grip to Reach mode, attack Bloo.

A: [roll0]
D: [roll1]

[Vanguardian]

Considering Gaedren's obsession with controlling the Little Lamms, Fiora found it hard to believe that a dog will be left running around unchecked, but it was probably specifically trained to only obey Gaedren's and the despicable candy thief over there. Probably someone able to get along with animals better than her would have had a good chance to make the dog back down, but that someone certainly wasn't Fiora and with the blood sprouting from Noirin's bite marks this certainly was not the time for the tiefling to start learning new things. Clean death is probably the best thing this rabid animal could hope for. Fiora though to herself as she stepped in to protect the unconscious Halfling, brought her blade to bear and lunged into a spinning slash aimed at the dog.
5 foot step: Enter Noirin's square.
Standard action: Falchion vs. Bloo: [roll0] attack, [roll1] S damage on hit.
--(Crit. on 18-20: [roll2] critical confirmation, [roll3] total critical damage.

[Ceralune]

As Fiora's sword cuts deeply into Bloo's back, this only seems to send the creature into a greater frenzy. He unlatches himself from Noirin to strike at the one who dealt such a crippling blow.

Leaping at Fiora, he growls and bites her sword arm with surprising accuracy, not quite crippling the arm but leaving a nasty wound. The additional weight throws her off-balance.

Fiora takes 8 damage, and is knocked prone.

Noirin and Leptira are next.

[Merilan]

Leptira whined softly as her magic turned out to be ineffective; she rummaged through her pack quickly and whispered once more to the Lifevessel, "Lifevessel, please, heal Noirin, she needs your aid...!"

Leptira requests assistance! [roll0]

[Ceralune]

The Lifevessel repeats its actions from earlier, shaking violently in Leptira's hands and glowing faintly. Noirin's wounds begin to close.

Noirin heals [roll0] HP.

While the Lifevessel does as you ask, something feels different this time. Almost as though it is more... reluctant?

Just as before, words bloom onto the parchment covering the lid of the Lifevessel.


Who... Who is this?

[Red_Jenny]

"Aggh..." Noirin flinches as her eyes open, clutching at her shoulder. "I'm making a habit of this. Don't much like it." She still felt like keeling over, and instinctually began weaving a spell to heal the wound before her conscious brain caught up and realized leaving herself defenseless in front of the angry cur was a bad idea. She held off as best she could.

"Could someone kill this damn thing before I get my throat torn out?"

Swift: Activate Quick Hands.
Standard: Ready Cure Light Wounds (on self): [roll0] Trigger: Bloo dies.

[Bhaakon]

Fisker squirms in a split-second of indecision, but ultimately heeds Noirin's plea and skitters into the same room as the vicious hound. "Why couldn't it just go to sleep?" He mutters as he draws back his bow a third time, now trying to lace a shot past the beleaguered halfling. "Don't dogs like sleeping?"

Move action tot move into the room, standard to attack. Dog is in melee and cover...oof.

[roll0]

[roll1]

[PersonMan]

"C'mon, just die," Sancia mutters to herself as she prepares for another stab, thrusting her weapon forwards to - hopefully - finish off the wounded animal.

Attack!

A: [roll0]
D: [roll1]

[Vanguardian]

Full-attack: Falchion vs. Bloo: [roll0] attack, [roll1] S damage on hit.
--(Crit. on 18-20: [roll2] critical confirmation, [roll3] total critical damage.
Secondary bite vs. Bloo: [roll4] attack, [roll5] S/P/B damage on hit.
--(Crit. on 18-20: [roll6] critical confirmation, [roll7] total critical damage.
Fiora roared as she was loosing her footing after the surprising pounce of the rabid canine. On the way to the ground she quickly rolled to the right with her the left arm covering her unprotected face from Bloo's assault. While the dog's attention was fully focused on gnawing her metal gauntlet, she flung her falchion into a reverse grip and slammed it into the god with the full force of her right arm behind it. The mongrel whimpered from the painful, yet not overly effective strike, but the short distraction was all that the tiefling needed. Releasing her left arm from his maw, she grabbed the dull side of the blade and repeatedly smashed Graeywind into the dog until it was looking no different from the fish entrails across the room.

[Ceralune]

The Little Lambs stand there, utterly shocked at the number the group has done on Bloo. The little girl cautiously walks over to the carcass and prods it with her pitchfork.

[Red_Jenny]

Noirin exhaled, releasing the spell in a soft golden glow. Slowly clambering to her feet (and almost pratfalling on candy), she twisted her shoulder experimentally. Good as new.

She knelt down among the kids. "It's all right, it's all right. Deep breaths. It's over for now. Is anyone hurt?" No doubt the others knew they were there, if not from the message from Hookshanks, than the unholy racket the battle had made, but there was still time to catch their breath. "Shame about the candy. We'll just have to get you twice as much."

"Have any of you brave lot seen Elly or Alika?" She asks, trying to get their minds away from the fight. "We were worried about them, it's one of the reasons we came to get you."

She glanced up at her companions. "And how're all - ah. Ugh, how's that arm, Fiora? Where's the healing box? That little thing's worth its weight in gold."

[Ceralune]

The little girl turns to Noirin, startled, then turns back to the fallen figures of Bloo and Hookshanks. "They're... they're really gone, aren't they?" she murmurs quietly. As it sinks in, a relieved look appears on her face. Borcun looks like he, too, can't believe that they actually did it. The remaining little boy appears overcome with emotion, and as though he is possibly holding back tears.

At Noirin's question, the girl crinkles her brow before saying, "I don't know anyone named Alika. But Elly's been holed up in our, uhh, sleeping quarters." She says those last words as though they really aren't anywhere an animal should be sleeping, much less a human. "The boss said that staying with him any longer would be too good for her. I don't know what they're going to do to her" she says, worriedly.

[Vanguardian]

"Erm... sorry" Fiora looked apologetically at the Lamms "The dog attacked my friend, there was no other way to stop him. We mean you no harm, I promise. We brought candy, but... well. Does Gaedren make you work here? You are just kids, you should do kid's stuff... like chasing nixies and licking frogs or whatever the kinds in the city do. Working is for the adults. Can you tell us where Gaedren is? We should have a word with him about so many things!" The tiefling pulled an torn cloth from her gauntlet and whipped the dog's blood from her blade. "Is he going to be mad at you if you tell us? We will tell him that we found him using the magical wand we took from his men so he doesn't blame you. It will be our little secret, ok?"
Diplomacy check: [roll0]

[Ceralune]

"Thank you for killing Bloo!" The little boy whose name you do not know suddenly blurts out, as Fiora is apologizing for the dog's death. "Er... thank you," he murmurs more quietly.

"No one knows where the boss is... he doesn't sleep with the rest of us. We're not allowed to go to other rooms besides our sleeping quarters and this room," the girl responds. "He only comes in when we've been b-bad..."

[Vanguardian]

"It has seen better days for sure." Fiora rubs her strained wrist in response to Noirin's question. "It was stupid of me to expect the dog to back off. Caught me by surprise."
"Leptira has the box, she was the one that asked... it?... to heal you. It heals strained wrists too, no?" Fiora approached the box in the elf's hands. Ahem... box... if it's not too much to ask, can you heal me? We have candy, but it's on the floor now... It was one of those moments that everyone in the room suddenly shuts up for whatever reasons and then you feel stupid. Making people like you is hard enough, but boxes... how in the nine hells one convinces a box to do something for him?
Diplomacy vs. the Lifevessel [roll0]

[Ceralune]

The Lifevessel shakes in response to Fiora's request, but does not glow.

Without the throes of battle keeping your attention, you see ink bleed into the parchment.


He's not happy... stop... stop!

Meanwhile, the girl continues talking. She looks down ashamedly.

"We're sorry we attacked you. Pl-Please... we just didn't want to get hurt." She looks up tentatively at Fiora, as though expecting some kind of punishment. "If there's anything you want us to do, we'll do it."

[PersonMan]

Sancia coughs. "There is, actually. If you could gather up over here, near the door, and wait for us to sort the rest of this out, that would be wonderful. Maybe give a loud scream if more of Gaedren's folk come through, and run away if they try to catch you," she says, her sword resting over her shoulder once again.

For the moment, swooning over Fiora's combat prowess could wait.

[Ceralune]

The orphans looks between themselves for a moment, before the girl faces Sancia. "Okay." She hesitates before adding, "... Please don't hurt Marli for letting in the dog. She was... only following orders," she asks tentatively. Then, the three of them gather just outside the door, around the corner.

[Merilan]

Leptira made a face and felt herself going even paler than she normally did, shuddering as Bloo went down to a flurry of violence. She looked down towards the box and saw the writing, wondering who the 'he' referred to... was it Hookshanks, or the dog? "This is... Leptira, my name is Leptira," she pet the Lifevessel gently on the surface. "What's your name?" A hesitant pause. "Would you be able to heal my companion, Fiora...?"

[Ceralune]

For a long moment, nothing happens. Then, the Lifevessel shakes harder than it ever has before, yet it does not glow. The ink that appears on its surface does not bloom elegantly onto the parchment; rather, it forms in jagged, tremulous clumps, like the shaking has affected the very manner in which it appears. Eventually, it forms words whose font looks identical to how they were before, even though the way in which they appeared differs greatly.


My name is Eran. And I cannot heal anyone... only the other creature here can. And he is not in the best of moods.

[PersonMan]

Sancia heads over to the small crowd (three's a crowd, right?) around the Lifevessel, looking down just in time to catch the last of the message appearing. "Does he have a name? And, ah, do you do the talking?" She asks, curious. Her own experience speaking with boxes is limited - she stopped rather early in life, and until now she's never had to worry about their feelings.

[Ceralune]

The words appear a bit more steadily this time, though still lacking the fluidity from earlier.


I... Forgive me, I was not even aware of my state of being until earlier. When you woke me. I have pieced together the situation, somewhat, but... it has been a lot to take in.

The last thing I remember before waking was that I had successfully returned my mother's Harrow Deck. It was stolen from her, you see... but the thieves pursued me. And then, I suppose, I must have died.

After you read these words, they disappear, making way for the new:


When I woke, I felt this raging presence. And then I discovered that I could speak to it. Though it was loath to speak to me... something about how it was "punishment enough that it be condemned to an existence helping miserable humans who did not deserve to even look upon it, but now it was also stuck with one of those same miserable humans in its prison."

I suppose misery loves company, though, even company as poor as mine. Assuming it is telling the truth... it was once a powerful devil, who worked under the Archdevil Mammon. It went on a mission for its lord, to spy on the deity Abadar, but was caught. Abadar altered his nature magically, and decided that its punishment would be to be unable to do anything but... help others. Thus, the Lifevessel heals - or rather, the spirit of the devil heals - when asked to.

I suppose that even a deity's magic cannot alter the mind permanently. The spirit may not be evil, but it is angry, probably at being cooped up in a box and banished from its master. It cannot speak as I can. Which makes sense... in all our years of using the Lifevessel, mother and I never got a word out of it.

[Bhaakon]

"E-Eran?" Fisker's voice quivers. "Zellara's son?" His nose twitches nervously, setting his whiskers fluttering as he puts it together.

"Oh, oh dear. I don't think using the box is a good idea. No, no. Not at all." He says. "That family used it, and now one of them is...in there. This..." He glances at those who have already availed themselves of the magic, thankfully a list that doesn't include himself. "I really must insist it not be used on me at all. if you wish to take the risk, I suggest only employing it when at death's very doorstep."

"I...I don't want to be the one to tell Zellara where her boy ended up..."

[Ceralune]

At Fisker's mention of Zellara, the text vanishes from the parchment, to be replaced with words that form slowly, but steadily.


Zellara... wait, you know my mother?

I don't think it's quite that simple. I have theories for why I'm stuck in here... though of course, they're just my own opinions. Vira always said I shouldn't consider opinions to be fact....

Truth is, I had everything going for me... a loving girlfriend... a wonderful mother... good, honest work with which I could get by.... It wasn't fair for those thieves to take that away from me. I had a long life left to live. I think I ended up here because I wasn't ready to leave that behind.

And, I'm quite sure that this thing wasn't meant to hold more than one soul. I don't even think I'm in the same space as the devil. I can communicate with you, after all, yes? But he can't. I think the devil is inside the Lifevessel itself. I... well, I probably just got caught along the edge. Probably in the parchment. The parchment still has those runes written on it, right? The box's creator - whether that's Abadar or someone else - probably put that on there for extra protection, to keep the devil from being released.

Besides... if everyone who died while carrying it got stuck in here, I think there would be a lot more here than just the two of us. From the way the devil spoke, he has been in here for a very long time.

Right after you finish reading, the words disappear, and are quickly replaced, as though the sender is getting slightly more frantic.


But wait... how do you know my mother? And please don't tell her I ended up like this... it'd break her heart. You can't do that to her. Please.

[PersonMan]

"We're actually in the process of, ah, giving like unto like," Sancia says. "Your mother called to us with her magic and now we're killing Gaedren. Well, not yet, we're still killing the people who work for him, but we should be killing him soon. I, ah...she knows you're gone, but..." she pauses, chewing on her lip for a moment. "Wouldn't it be...better, if Vira and your mother knew they could still talk to you?"

[Ceralune]

A few seconds pass before the ink creeps cautiously back onto the page.


Goodness... you're going after Gaedren? My mother sent you to go after him? Either you're truly very capable of this, or you're some of the craziest people I've ever met. Though I suppose I shouldn't be a hypocrite. After all, I tried to get back at him too... but look at where it got me.

In any case, I can't deny that someone needs to deal with him. If you're volunteering, then I'll try to help you as best as I can. You've been trying to get him to heal you, right? He's bound by Abadar's spell to be helpful, but he's also stubborn, so sometimes he just doesn't listen. Apparently he hasn't been bothered so often in a very long time, and it's annoying him. I'll try to convince him to help you guys more.

And... I appreciate you thinking of them. But to let them know that I'm stuck in the Lifevessel with an irate devil, never to find peace? I can't do that to them. Better that they think I truly passed on than know that I'm trapped. It would only cause them pain. Like it or not, I'm not alive anymore. They need to move on. They can't do that if they're hanging onto the Lifevessel, trying to talk to me.

[Merilan]

Leptira found all of this to be a lot to take in, but insisted, "I--I don't think you need to consign yourself to a fate like this. Why bother thinking that this is irreversible, Eran? We'll find a way to get you out of there, so you can enjoy your life with Vira and Zellara again!" She lowered her head. "It-- might not be easy, and it might take a long time, but I promise you I'll find a way!"

[Ceralune]

I don't see how I could ever be let out... for one thing, if Abadar himself created it, what hope do I have of ever finding someone who can unseal it? And for another... what if he gets released alongside me? Release a vengeful devil for the sake of someone who shouldn't even be here anymore? I wouldn't wish that on the world.

Even if I am let out, my body is gone. No, the best I can hope for is to be released into a peaceful afterlife, and that cannot happen.

In any case, none of this is what's important right now. Focus on Gaedren. It will not do to have any of you injured worrying over me.

[Red_Jenny]

"Not to be a spoilsport with the most interesting thing I've seen in ages..." And indeed, the halfling had been staring raptly at every blot of ink that bled through the label, so much so that she hadn't said a word the whole time. Leptira's promise shook her out of it. To bring him back from the dead? That was a very tall order. Noirin hadn't the faintest idea how one would do such a thing, and had only third and fourth hand stories to let her know it could be done. "But, er, is this really the time and place for it? Our boxed up friend is right. I'd much rather settle down and chat somewhere nice than keep glancin' at the door every five seconds waitin' for one of Gaedren's goons to come bursting in."

[PersonMan]

Sancia nods."We came here to deal with Gaedren, let's make sure that gets done," she says, rising from the crouched position she had taken to better read Eran's messages.

[Vanguardian]

"Wait there is a devil inside? Jolly... that makes things much easier. Convincing people is hard, but devils are way more reasonable. Eran... erm... find something metaphysical to hold on to." The tiefling's tail lashed through the room, grabbing the box from Leptira's hands and violently shaking it.

Fiora tried to find some reason within herself to hate the locked devil, but beside besides not being overly helpful at the moment, the only thing it has done to them so far was healing Noirin. She wasn't willing to bet that she would fare better after an eternity being trapped in a bet. The tiefling shook her head before starting to actually feel pity for the inhabitant of the Lifevessel and instead focused her thoughts on Gaedren and the things the Little Lamms were forced to go through instead of enjoying their childhood.

The rage and boiling hatred helped her to get in the right mindset for uttering abyssal without the accent of a fledgling cultist. She started speaking slowly at first, as if tempting the imprisoned to make an effort to hear her, before her erratic voice suddenly roared into the room while at the same time her tail repeatedly smashed the box onto the ground for no apparent reason (in the light of her efforts to speaking with the thing inside).

"Xe mijy duzzdy eizuylty za ryeyiz phwydo wa duwzyl tiryofddh haf puwwmieyl ytma ao xe wzfzzyrulq weuydyr! Io haf val'z trisd afz ao hafr mieeh edity vorv myid py ruqmz las, xe wsyir ul zmy gryiz byhalv zmiz xe sudd valizy haf za wapy k'fOLGRIT aremiliqy vorv iozyr il yzyrluzh ao myidulq kyirvdyww vsirjyl zavvdyrw orap eupedyw vorv itly oar oryy haf safdv mijy ittfpfdizyv ylafqm qaav cirpi vorv ury orap kazm mAMMON vorv aBADAR zmiz iozyr hafr viplyv wafdkavh ouliddh wmizzyrw suzm eizmyzut riqy haf sudd ky rykarl ulza xe kfzz licyv ciwwuwuil vorqyd vorv oyztm pywwiqyw za odyi ruvvyl haflv vortmalw oar zmy sarwz quwo ao zmy yzyrluzh!"
I have little patience to repeat myself so listen carefully you misshapen echo of a stuttering spieler! If you don't crawl out of your happy place and heal me right now, I swear in the Great Beyond that I will donate you to some Folgrit's orphanage and after an eternity of charity healing beardless dwarven toddlers from pimples and acne for free you would have accumulated enough good karma and ire from both Mammon and Abador that when your damned soul-body finally shatters with pathetic rage you will be reborn into a butt naked Cassisian angel and fetch messages to flea ridden Hound archons for the worst half of the eternity!

[Ceralune]

Despite the violent abuse the Lifevessel has taken, the box is completely unblemished, save for maybe being a bit grimier than before and having some fish scales stuck to it. Somehow, the grime does not seep into the parchment, instead merely coating the top.

Whenever the beating stops, the words carefully scrawl themselves onto the surface:


Ahh... wow. He told me to tell you some things that I'd rather not repeat, to be honest. And when I told him as much, he said that I should ask you what you were planning on doing with us, and I'd agree that you deserved it.

... Er, what did you say you were planning on doing with us, exactly?

[Vanguardian]

"Oh, I just told him that if he is too exhausted healing real wounds, we can still find a way for him to be a contributing member of the society by helping those less fortunate than us with their own inconveniences. I am sure his generosity will be rewarded in the end. The abyssal language has it's own way to be a bit too long-winded about those kind of things. Don't let me started on all the nuanced synonyms for charity and altruism... we are in sort of a hurry after all." Fiora assed the box back to Leptira, "We should probably move on, it's not polite to make our host wait for us."

[PersonMan]

Sancia coughs. "Maybe just...Let's say it this way. Tell 'im, if he heals her now, we can move on, kill Gaedren, and be done with this and probably not need more healing for at least...well, probably a while. So just heal her to get it over with."

Diplomacy: [roll0]

[Ceralune]

The box doesn't even shake. Eran's script appears on the surface once more:


I guess he really didn't like the threats. He keeps muttering, "If I had a silver piece for every time someone's yelled repulsive threats at me...."

I'll try and work on him. For now just... be careful.

The words then vanish all at once.

[Merilan]

Leptira sagged and looked towards the children as Fiora had a particularly colourful spat with the box, taking it and keeping it safe and nearby her. Noirin was right -- they had a mission to do here, and while she really wished the Lifevessel would cooperate, there wasn't much they could do at the moment. She looked to the girl and said, "I want you to, um, head to this address," she handed the card that Zellara had handed them earlier. She looked to Fisker for a moment, as if for approval, since it was his place. "You'll be safe for the time being, there's some food and water there as well... we'll rescue the rest of the Lamms, just you wait."

[Ceralune]

The trio of Little Lambs look at the card hesitantly. They seem to converse among themselves quietly, and you hear snippets of their conversation ("Is it really okay to just leave..." "Think they'll actually be able to take down...") before the girl looks up at Leptira and nods. "Okay. You... You'll make sure he can't hurt us anymore?" she asks, glancing at you all with pleading eyes. Apparently, she finds whatever it is she's looking for, because she takes the card and whispers, "Thank you."

The three of them slink off together, into the surrounding alleys.


Meanwhile, the fishery has been entirely still while you've chatted with the Little Lambs and the Lifevessel. One door, the same door that Bloo came rushing out of earlier, now lies wide open. The adjacent room appears dimly lit, and you think you can make out a desk and chair.

The other door is off to the side, and is closed.

[Red_Jenny]

"Damn right we will." Noirin reassures the Little Lamms as they skitter away.

"Devil boxes and dead dogs. Quite the afternoon." She sighs theatrically. "So, what path do you fine folks want to- ah? Hrm... Hold a tick."

Unable to resist her curiosity, Noirin creeps up to the door Bloo came from and peeks around. "I think there's a desk in there. Wonder what's in it?"

Move up to the opened door.

Stealth:[roll0]
Perception: [roll1]

[Ceralune]

Taking a better look at the room, you realize that the floor is surprisingly clean (at least, compared to the room everyone is in). A few lit candlesticks illuminate the room. The desk and chair appear much nicer than the furniture in the previous room. The desk is long, but thin, with enough room for only one drawer. Underneath the desk, which is made out of a dark wood and quite a bit smaller than the one in the other room, you see scraps of cloth bunched up into what looks to be a bed for the dog, if the filth-covered ball lying on it is any indication.

[Red_Jenny]

"No trouble." Noirin gives a thumbs up to the rest of the crew. "It's an office of sorts, I think, an' it's nice. Proper furniture, an whoever uses it keeps it clean. Bed for the dog. Got candles lit up, too, so someone's usin' it, and probably won't be pleased we did away with the beloved family pet." After rubbing her shoulder and sparing a sneering glance at the remains of the beast, Noirin pads forward and opens the skinny drawer. "What do we have in here?"

[Bhaakon]

"D-devils are tricky." Fisker whispers, hoping the box's hearing isn't as good as his. "I'm not sure we should take its words at face value...it could be trying to fool us for some reason. I still wouldn't trust it, no matter what it says. That might not even be Eran, or if it is, the devil might have some hold on him."

Might be better just to toss the thing in the river, in all honestly, but Fisker somehow doubts the others will go for that, so he leaves it with a simple warning before the cadre continues searching the premises. Finding the office immediately reminds Fisker of something.

"A d-desk?" he says. "Files? I should look over those for...er...incriminating evidence, in case we have to turn him over to the watch or defend ourselves in court for his murder."

Mostly, though, to remove any records of the shameful transaction Fisker had made with the man--completely innocently, of course.

Perception to rifle the desk for any mention of Fisker's illicit dealings... [roll0]

[Ceralune]

The drawer opens to reveal a few blank slips of parchment and inkpens. Only one piece of parchment has anything actually written on it, seeming to have the beginnings of an order form for slurry etched onto it. It details a Mr. Drinet Morsondl, set to come visit on the 12th of Calistril (tomorrow), to appraise the goods and perhaps sort out a deal.

Incidentally, the door to your right has streams of daylight seeping through the crack where the door meets the ground. Two other doors sit off to your left. The one nearest you is closed, but the other is wide open and appears to lead to a well-lit room. Another door across the room is closed.

[Merilan]

Leptira stuck by Noirin's side as they examined the room, checking out the papers and -- curious at what Fisker is looking for. Did he know some dealings that Gaedren could be up to? "Mister Drinet Morsondl... I wonder who that is..."

This was not the time, though. Something nagged at her, so she took the order form and folded it and put it in her pack. She checked the open door to the well-lit room, peeking around the corner...

[PersonMan]

Sancia follows the others into the office room, taking up a position behind Leptira as she investigates, ready to provide her with support if she's found by more of Gaedren's goons.

[Ceralune]

There isn't anyone in the room, but this room has the nicest furniture you've seen yet, and is also the cleanest. A wooden desk of a dark mahogany color sits in one corner of the room, heaped with dozens of slate boards covered with chalk scrawls, while to the east a cabinet sits primly against the wall. The armchair looks comfortable, with a plush seat bearing only the occasional stain here and there. Indeed, the scene would be rather picturesque (at least, for a building as disgusting as this one is), if not for the fact that the chair is completely askew, and sitting on its side. One desk drawer lies open haphazardly, with what appears to be various scrolls sticking out of it.

Both doors leading out of this room are closed tight.

The room looks very neat and tidy, but you notice something a little odd - the grains in an area of the wooden flooring behind the chair form a subtle, but perfect, little square.

[Red_Jenny]

"They were buying slurry from Lamm, so I'm sure they're a fine, upstanding citizen, whoever they are." She blanched a bit. Fish slurry already smelled like death warmed over. How cheap did you have to be to buy a product made in a place like this - to say nothing of who made it.

Noirin flashed a toothy grin as they rounded the corner into the even nicer office. "We've got 'em on the back foot now. Ha! Right, right, lesee here. So, we were keeping something important in here, were we? Let's see what we left behind." She started rifling through the scrolls.

Perception, if needed: [roll0]

[Merilan]

Leptira's attention was drawn onto the chalk scrawls, and she approached and peered at what it might be writing. "I wonder if this is Gaedren's office... it's a nice room, so it would make sense that he'd give himself the nicest one..."

[Ceralune]

Both the slates and the scrolls contain similar information to each other. They appear to be records of transactions, detailing addresses of various customers, and other accounting notes. While the names and information on each scroll is, thus, different, you see that they all have a couple of things in common - all of them concern slurry sales, and all are signed at the bottom by a Mr. Yargin Balko.

[Merilan]

Leptira put a hand against her cheek to say, "Do you think he might have fled? This chair..." She pointed to how it was tipped onto its side, and then the open desk drawer. "He grabbed some document most important and might have run to another room..."

[Bhaakon]

Fisker stuffs the half-written work order into his pack and scurries in to rifle the desk in the next room, but pulls up short. There was something wrong here. The floor is...odd. The ratfolk likes to think he's worked up a fine eye for detail while working with dangerous chemicals, a certain attention for minor incongruities which might suggest a far greater underlying problem. Like the way the wood in the floor of this room is arranged.

"C-careful!" He squeaks, then bites down afraid he's been to loud. "There's something there. A pressure plate, a safe, or maybe a trap door? I c-can't tell yet..." He removes a delicate set of probes and pry-bars from their various hiding places on his person and takes a closer look.

Perception, if needed: [roll0]

Disable Device to unlock or disable, depending on what it is: [roll1]

[Ceralune]

Upon closer examination, the panel appears to be a trap door, but something is blocking you from pushing it down.

If you want to try to push it down, DC 15 Strength check.

[Bhaakon]

Fisker pushes, pulls, yanks and pried, going so far as to bounce up and down on top of the door ever so slightly--never quiet letting his toes lose contact with the wood in order to avoid raising a racket.

"Er...I think it's stuck." He says, finally giving up his attempt to open the damnable contraption. No doubt it had been designed by talls so that their oafish strength and ponderous mass would be required to lever it open without causing a commotion.

[Merilan]

Leptira cups her hand to her mouth, then turns from where she was examining the scrawls to say, "Oh, my apologies! Let me help... Sancia, Fiora, Noirin, could you also give us a hand?" she asked of the rest of the group.

Leptira will just aid another here -- I think it's DC 10? [roll0]

[PersonMan]

Sancia approaches the odd square in the floor, and gives it an experimental push. Then another, firmer push.

Gogo Str check.

[roll0] (including Leptira AA)

[Red_Jenny]

Noirin squeezes into the corner and adds her (minimal) strength and weight to the effort. "Come on, you daft thing!"

Noirin provides +4 on Aid checks, if this passes: [roll0]

Edit: Ha, no, of course not. That would make me useful. :smalltongue:

[PersonMan]

"We can come back for this later, I don't think it's going anywhere," Sancia says as the door remains closed. She approaches the door to the next room, letting the others follow before opening it.

[Ceralune]

The door to the next room is locked, but a bit of Fisker's handiwork soon results in a click, and the knob turns smoothly.

The floor here has a bit of a sheen to it from all of the river water, and is covered with what appears to be bits of seaweed and blood. The door actually opens to a wooden catwalk, while the floor is quite a ways below. A wide opening in the floor allows direct access to the sloppy, muddy water of the river. Barrels and crates are stacked (not very neatly) by the far wall, each with a fish painted of them.

You recognize this room quite well - this is where you stayed for the past couple of months, toiling away, making slurry in the vat that is currently out of sight, but to the north. Every hour or so, you'd harvest buckets of slurry and fill barrels for that evening's shipment, while other kids refilled the vat with more water drawn up from the south, and call out for additional fish to someone who was on the other side of the wall. While you can't see them from here, the area under the catwalks contains hammocks where you and the other Little Lambs would sleep.

A group of five children, of various ages and heights, stand off a bit in the distance, huddled together. You recognize one of them as Marli, and she seems to regard you with uncertain eyes.

The most notable thing that you see about this room, however, are the three figures standing near the opening in the floor.

One appears to be a half-orc, with an eye patch covering what looks like a heavily scarred eye. Another is a tall, blond man wearing an elaborate red coat. The last is a girl of medium height with hair that looks like it would be red under cleaner circumstances.

Leptira recognizes one of them, the girl, as Elly.

Both of you recognize the half-orc as Giggles.

The half-orc is restraining the girl's arms, though he seems to be having some trouble as she squirms about, while the tall man holds a wand to her throat as you open the door. All of them are looking your way - the girl's eyes light up in amazement and disbelief as her eyes lock with Leptira's, though the other two bear repugnant scowls.

"Not another step! Unless you want something unfortunate to happen to this one," the man declares, reasserting his position by jabbing the wand closer to the girl.

[Merilan]

Leptira's throat seized up immediately as she gasped and exclaimed, "E-Elly! Elly!" and nearly lost herself, but the half-orc's dire warning brought her back to her feet and senses as she felt little beads of tears well up at the corners of her eyes.

"Please, let her go!" She gripped at her staff a little tighter. She didn't even consciously think about it, but the dreamspun power had begun to whisper and ebb about her once more, and her eyes shone softly. She regarded the blonde man with the wand, "We don't have to be enemies... please, stop this."

Leptira is using Charm Person on the blonde man in the coat! Will save to negate!

[Ceralune]

The blond man takes a staggering step to catch his balance, clutching his head confusedly. "I... wha?" Giggles looks at him as if he's gone insane, and Elly takes advantage of the situation. She delivers a kick to Giggles's knee and shakes off his grip, scampering off to the side.

Suddenly on his own as it seems that his partner is behaving very strangely, Giggles growls and raises his flail while muttering to himself, "Thought the boss said they wouldn't try anything if we threatened that particular one..." He then barks orders at the Little Lambs huddled off to the side.

"Don't just stand there," he sneers at them. "Get her!" Giggles points at Elly, who is unarmed but scanning over the room with her eyes, as though she's looking for something. "Once she's under control, this will all be back to normal," he croons, his strange attempt at sounding reassuring garbled by his scraggly voice. "Do it quickly and maybe you won't have any further injuries."

Though, whatever the normal effect of his threats might be, it certainly isn't the same when he's so badly outnumbered and something seems to have happened to his partner. The orphans stay huddled together, and even raise their brooms in defiance, anticipating his end.

Alrighty, remember that if you try to tell the man to do something he wouldn't normally do, you have to make a Charisma check. Since you don't know him, it may be better to just roll a check every time you tell him to do something and I'll roll the opposing check if it applies.

Initiative Order:
Group 1: Noirin
Group 2: Little Lambs
Group 3: Fisker, Fiora, Leptira
Group 4: Blond Man
Group 5: Elly
Group 6: Giggles
Group 7: Sancia

[Red_Jenny]

Noirin clambers out onto the catwalk, judging it a good perch to raise havoc from. She gives Elly and the rest of the Little Lamms a wave. "Don't you worry, we'll get this sorted out quick enough!"

Her tone with Giggles is not nearly as cheery. "Hookshanks is dead, Giggles. I get to be here to see the empire crumble. Ain't it grand? You, though, won't be seein' much of anything." She raises a hand, and a bright flash erupts in front of the half-orc.

Flare against Giggles. DC14 Fort save vs. Dazzle.

[Ceralune]

Giggles raises his free hand to try and shield his eyes as the light bursts forth, though he blinks rapidly as though he's still seeing spots. The Little Lambs seem to capitalize on this - two step forward with their brooms and jab at his feet. It isn't long before Giggles trips on one of them and falls onto his bum.

"Agghh! Despicable empties, you all are!" he roars in pain.

[Merilan]

Leptira begs of the blonde man, "P-please, protect us!" though she isn't certain to what extent her magic could influence him. This was all extremely new to her, after all. She turned to Giggles and focused again, extending her hand. "As for you -- may the fey winds guide you to repose!"

One more time... Slumber!
Also, Charisma check for the request of the blond man: [roll0]

[Bhaakon]

Stymied by the hatch, Fisker scrambles ahead to see the commotion in the next room. It doesn't take much observation to figure out what's happening, what with the two thugs trying to cow the crowd of children and Lepitra and Noirin tossing magic about. Fisker raises his bow and aims at this 'Giggles', since "I'll take an arrow to gut over fey winds..." He mumbles, and lets fly.

Move action into the room, standard to attack giggles:

[roll0] assuming PBS, not sure how high that catwalk is.
[roll1]

[Vanguardian]

Fiora wasn't really sure what the game between Leptira and the man in red was, but the halfbreed named Giggles was certainly not a friend of theirs. She pulled her blade and assumed a defensive posture between the two and the Lamms without doing something reckless before having the chance to get a better hunch of the situation first. The redcoat was seemingly on their side, but something in his face hunted her to keep a closer eye on him anyway.
"That flail is going into the river with or without you, green face. You make the choice."

[Ceralune]

While Giggles doesn't fall asleep, being knocked over and half-blinded make it hard for him to defend himself, and Fisker's arrow lodges itself in his shoulder, exerting a cry of pain.

The blond man in the red coat looks at Leptira with a blank look on his face at her request, but then scrunches up his face in confusion. "Protect... one of these miserable, sticky children? Why would I, Yargin Balko, esteemed accountant, lower myself to that...?" While he doesn't make any motion to attack Leptira, the arrow suddenly sticking out of Giggles and the threat from Fiora make him narrow his eyes. Still seeming dazed, he moves to defend his comrade on the floor.

He reaches into his pocket with his free hand, and his wand flashes bright green at its tip before it fizzles out harmlessly, producing no result.

Meanwhile, Elly is looking between Yargin and Leptira with surprise, though at his offensive motion she seems to resteel herself. She searches the floor, seeming to look for something, before running up to a small pile of discarded wood and picking out a long plank, brandishing it like a weapon.

Giggles picks himself off of the ground, biting back his pain. He looks very angry right now, and moves towards the Little Lambs as if he'd love to take that anger out on them, muttering to himself, "This must be their fault. Useless pick-pocketers, who also attract bad luck..." Though, with Fiora standing between him and the orphans, he growls and instead goes for her.

The flail swings into her gut, likely sending her unconscious.

Yargin makes his opposed Charisma check and uses his wand, but fails.

Elly moves and finds a plank to use as an improvised weapon.

Giggles swings a flail at Fiora and does 10 damage.

[PersonMan]

Sancia rushes forwards, moving along the side of the pool of water and brandishing her weapon, using its length to threaten Giggles from too far for the half-orc to retaliate.


Move and attack, weapon in Reach form.

Activating mystic trance for one Eldritch Pool point.

A: [roll0]
D: [roll1]

[Red_Jenny]

Ducking past Fisker, Noirin drew her rapier. The little halfling was a poor substitute for the armored tiefling, but she wasn't going to stand back and let Gaedren's thugs threaten the orphans or her new friends. She pointed the blade dramatically at the half-orc. "Come on, Giggles! I've wanted to settle this for ages. Or are you too busy gettin' knocked on your ass by children?"

Move along the catwalk, move to draw rapier. Swift to activate Quick Hands.

[Ceralune]

The Little Lambs repeat their previous actions, placing their long-handled brooms near Giggles's feet and jabbing at him, causing him to fall over once again.

[Merilan]

Leptira cupped her mouth and steeled herself, reaching for the Lifevessel. "Please... I know you two might disagree, but we really need your aid at the moment! Please heal Fiora!"

She gulped softly to add, "A-and that's because you're... a good, noble man... and you wouldn't want to see me come to harm, right?"

Leptira requests aid! [roll0]

[Ceralune]

The Lifevessel shakes mildly, and emits the same glow from before.

Lifevessel heals [roll0] HP to Fiora.

[Bhaakon]

"Oh, you really should learn to st-stay down." Fisker squeaks at the half-orc flailing about on her rump. It wasn't particularly nice to kill someone in front of children, but this Giggle was rather forcing the matters, and, well, if the kids were going to see someone ended, he'd rather it not be Fiora. He still needed her help with Lamm, after all.

Another arrow: [roll0]
[roll1]

[Ceralune]

The arrow sinks into Giggles's back, and he grits his teeth. "Yargin, you useless snot, if you're acting this way just because you're afraid of getting a little dirt on your coat, we will have words once this is over."

Yargin, however, doesn't seem to pay attention to Giggles or what he's saying. At Leptira's further prodding, he instead turns his wand on Giggles, pointing it at him and attacking him while he's down. The wand shines green at its tip once again, and this time the magic seems to materialize into a spell, projecting acid towards Giggles. However, it lands harmlessly by Giggles's feet, though not without eliciting an outraged growl from the half-orc.

Elly circles around Giggles and Yargin, trying to sneak in a shot to Giggles's blind spot, though the board she hits him with doesn't seem to do anything.

Giggles, now thoroughly infuriated by Yargin's actions, attempts to get up and swing his flail at him. "It seems I need to knock some sense into you and that pompous, big head of yours!"

Yargin uses his wand on Giggles but fails.

Elly tries to thwack Giggles with a plank, but fails.

Giggles tries to stand up... prompting AoOs from Elly and Sancia.

[PersonMan]

Sancia thrusts her sword forwards, hoping to stab Giggles and reach Fiora in time to be the first thing she sees when she wakes up. That would be a smooth move, she thinks to herself. Very smooth.

Taking AoO and attacking.

Dice rolls here (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?511628-CotCT-Player-Thread-Active-Player-Rolls&p=21581259#post21581259).

A: 14
D: 10

Normal attack:

A: 8
D: 10

[Ceralune]

The sword slices Giggles dangerously close to his neck. He has become very pale, but he remains standing, albeit barely.

[Red_Jenny]

Dashing down the stairs, Noirin stabbed wildly at Giggles. There were years worth of mistreatment behind the tip of the rapier, and the halfling wasn't thinking as clearly as usual. "I was jokin', but you really were busy fallin' on your ass. Couldn't have written a better end for you."

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Ceralune]

Giggles manages to move out of the way in time, though in doing so he trips over the Little Lambs' brooms again, barely catching himself with his arms.

"Yargin... s-snap out of it..." he growls, a desperate edge to his voice.

[Bhaakon]

"Should have called you pincushion..." Fisker snickers to himself as he draws back his weapon a third time. Surely the oaf of a half-orc couldn't stay conscious forever, even if his arrows were fitted for a target half the man's size.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[Merilan]

Leptira focused and whispered, "Just a little more, Lifevessel... please..."

Another Diplomacy -- [roll0]

[Ceralune]

With one final arrow sticking out of his back, Giggles finally drops to the floor and goes completely still, accusing eyes still fixed on Yargin.

In response to Leptira's request, the Lifevessel glows once more, and Eran's text appears across the top:


Alright, I think I got him to calm down a bit. Just, um, please do us all a favor and try to be... if not nice, polite towards him.

Yargin stands there absentmindedly, twiddling with his wand, though occasionally shooting uncertain glances the Little Lambs' way. They regard him warily, clutching their brooms as though they worry he might try to strike someone else with that wand any minute now.

Meanwhile, as Giggles goes down, Elly slowly drops the plank of woods in her hands, blinking at the half-orc warden's body in slight disbelief. She turns towards the door and looks at Leptira with shining eyes. "Tira? Is that really you? Did... did you do this to Yargin?" she asks, amazed.

Rolled in GM thread. Fiora heals (1d8+1)[5] + 2 = 7 HP.

[PersonMan]

Picking her way past the fallen half-orc, pausing briefly to wide his blood off of her sword using his clothing, and easing past the wand-wielding man with a polite nod, Sancia goes over to where Fiora lies, giving Leptira a look as she asks for one last bit of healing from the Lifevessel, relieved when it begins to shake and some of Fiora's wounds close. Crouching beside her, sword sticking up far over the heads of the nearby Lambs, Sancia offers her a smile and wave as she awakens.

"Welcome back, Fiora," she says, standing to offer her a hand once the armored woman is ready to get up.

[Merilan]

"I--I understand, Eran..." Leptira murmured to the box, and realising that they aren't out of the woods yet; Yargin was not going to be influenced by her spell forever, after all, and she didn't know what the group had in mind of him. She tried to turn her head away from where Giggles fell and was stabbed, and looked to Elly--

--and just couldn't herself, starting to sniffle. "E-Elly, Elly... waah!" She clung to the redhead Lamm with tears in her eyes, burbling, "I was so, so scared that something would have happened to you, that I'd be too late... don't ever do that again..."

[Ceralune]

Elly is taken aback for a moment, but then returns the hug gently. "Had to do it, Tira. Otherwise they would've caught both of us. Besides, it worked." She smiles brightly. "You got out, and you even came back for me! I guess you've finally figured out that magic stuff, huh? Always knew you had it in you."

Finally, she steps back a bit to appraise the rest of the group. "So who are all of these folks? Ahh...!" Her breath catches as her eyes fall over Noirin, and she steps forward to give the halfling a hug next. "Noirin! I see you found each other. Good, good. That's a relief."

[Red_Jenny]

"That we did!" Noirin hops up into Elly's hug with a huge grin. "'Tira tells me you're a hero. Awful brave thing you did. I'm gladder than anything we got here in time to see it pay off."

"So, before we get all sunshine and daisies, what do we do with him?" Noirin points at Yargin, then looks to Elly and the Lambs uncertainly. "I was goin' to say truss him up and leave him outside with a note for the Guard, but, well, you lot would know him better than we would. We have a tiger by the tail, or is he as dumb as he seems?"

[Ceralune]

Elly looks at him with distrust, while the other Little Lambs hang tight to their brooms. Yargin, oblivious to the chatter about him, smiles absentmindedly and waves to you with his wand hand, causing the orphans to flinch until they realize he isn't actually using the wand.

Finally, Elly speaks. "Well, I'm not sure what Tira did to him. Honestly, I've never seen him before yesterday, but he wasn't acting like, uh, that. Gaedren was... mad. Really mad." She brushes some of her rags away to reveal dark bruising along her stomach. "Said something about how he should have crippled me earlier instead of letting me go on longer like this just because I was a girl. He was planning on feeding me to Gobblegut, I think. Yes, Gobblegut is real," she murmurs as some of the orphans' eyes go wide at the confirmed rumor.

"Though, then he said he had more important things to deal with. Some girl who had found out about this place and had to be silenced. But he didn't want me with the others, so after knocking me around a bit he stuck me with Yargin, who didn't seem all too pleased. He definitely doesn't normally deal with the children. None of us have seen him before... right?" The Little Lambs shake their heads in response, and a girl - Marli, you recognize - says, "Never seen him. The only other time I even heard his name was... I remember Hookshanks saying something once about how 'Yargin needed to hurry up and get Gaedren his dinner, because he was so cranky and taking it out on him...'" Her voice trails off as she catches your eye and she ducks her head, seeming to remember the incident from earlier.

[PersonMan]

Sancia approaches Elly and the discussion about Yargin, wincing as the slim girl reveals her bruises. "I'm not sure he's the type to fight a room full of people, as nasty as I'm sure he can get. 'Esteemed Accountant' generally doesn't mix with 'likes to fight'. Oh, I almost forgot - Sancia," she says, stopping for a brief theatrical bow. "A pleasure to meet you, despite the circumstances."

[Bhaakon]

Fisker keeps up on the ratwalk, out of reach of the grubby spawn down below. Saving them was a noble endeavor, of course, but that didn't mean he had to let them run their snotty hands through his luxurious pelt, infesting him with the stink of their fishgut-tained fingers. No, not at all.

"W-we ought to hurry now. Lamm will have h-heard the commotion. He might run, and then we'll be back where we started." He laments as soon as Fiora is back on her feat, though it seems like the conversation on the workroom floor is turning into a full-blown reunion. But then one of the urchins says something troubling.

"Wait, w-what's a 'Gobblegut'? Is that another, bigger dog?" It certainly sounded bigger.

[Ceralune]

Looking up to meet the gaze of Sancia, Elly grins and returns the bow. "Elly. And likewise." At Fisker's question, Elly frowns to herself and murmurs, "Gobblegut is Gaedren's pet alligator. Mind you, I don't think any of us have actually ever seen him... but Gaedren pretty much confirmed his existence last night.

"And yes, we should all hurry and leave this place, before Gaedren tries to stop us." Elly strides over to a small, dirty hammock in the corner of the room and collects a little bundle of something, while motioning to the other Little Lambs to quickly do whatever they need to do so they can leave. They're a bit more hesitant about it, but they slowly lower their brooms and gather whatever few possessions they have, giving Yargin a wide berth as they do so.

[PersonMan]

"That reminds me - Leptira, could you ask Yargin if he knows what's in that secret compartment?" Sancia asks, turning to the mage as Elly and the others begin to collect their things, glancing over at the still-passive man. Hopefully he would cooperate for long enough, but if not they could probably threaten him easily enough.

[Merilan]

Leptira cupped her mouth and stammered, "G-Gobblegut is, um... well, we didn't know if it was real or not... it was Gaedren's pet alligator... uuh..." She paused and looked terrified as Elly revealed the bruises, lowering her head. "Let's get you healed... there's this magical box that can heal wounds that we found..."

She focused, and then asked in her nicest voice, "Lifevessel, would you please heal Elly as well...?"

She looked to Sancia and nodded afterwards, and then requested, also in her nicest voice, "Yargin, um, do you know what might be in that trap door in your office...?"

Diplomacy for Elly's healing... [roll0]

Charisma again! [roll1]

[Ceralune]

Elly makes it back to you with a small bundle in her hands and looks curiously at the strange box in your hands, but tries to interrupt you as you mention healing. "Ohh, it's okay, Tira. These bruises hurt, but I'll live, don't worry about me. Besides, we all need to get out of here. Are you and your friends ready to leave?" she asks, looking up at all of you expectantly. She doesn't seem to notice as the Lifevessel glows, and while it remains unseen, her bruises presumably fade as well.

Yargin, meanwhile, looks at Leptira confused for a moment before his eyes go wide with realization... and worry. "The trap-door!" he exclaims. He looks all around the room before finally turning back to Leptira and, with a concerned tone of voice, asking, "Pardon me, miss, but do you have the time of day? I think it's getting rather late, you see, and I... it has been a while since I sent Mr. Lamm his noonday meal. He'll be cross if he gets no supper..."

[Merilan]

Leptira had a sudden look of realisation at the rest of the group and Yargin, then leaned forward to smile and say, "It is getting a bit late -- but that's okay, we'll all help you prepare Mr. Lamm's meal, so you won't get scolded. Why don't we all go together?"

A bit... straight to the heart, certainly, but...

[Ceralune]

Yargin smiles at the suggestion and nods his head, relieved. "That would be much appreciated! Of course, I'm not supposed to let anyone else send him food," he interjects with a mildly worried expression, but shakes it off. "But it wouldn't be the first time I've, ahh, accepted help with it. Ohh, you do understand, don't you? Such a bother, it is, sometimes... having to keep this place running AND look after our boss. A little help wouldn't be amiss every once in a while. And, why, even today Mr. Lamm stuck one of those useless whelps with me. Such a nuisance." His face grows dark and irritated as he references Elly with the beginnings of a snarl. "As if I needed more hindrances to keeping business going. But, yes, enough blather. Let us be on with it, then."

With that, Yargin leads you to the room you were in before, his office. Elly and the Little Lambs follow closely behind, though looking confused as to what the delay could possibly be. The room is still as pristine as it was before, though you see his eyes barely glance over the fallen chair as though he doesn't wish to remember something unpleasant. He tucks his wand into his coat pocket and pulls out a small, silver key, then unlocks the nearby cabinet.

"Ahh, yes, you there. Fill this with hot water, if you'd please." Yargin hands Noirin a teapot, whose previously-white porcelain is discolored. "The stove is in our room. Down the hall--" he points out the western exit "-- and to the left. Ohh, and the key, of course." He hands Noirin a simple, rusted key.

Meanwhile, he pulls a tray out of the cabinet and a small loaf of bread, and sets a small jar of jam next to it. A dingy bowl goes onto the tray next, which he quickly ladles full with a stew.

"Someone, push the paperweight on my desk for me, would you?"

[PersonMan]

Sancia finds Yargin's behavior fairly off-putting, but isn't about to waste an opportunity to quickly get to Gaedren - and catch him off guard, hopefully. Especially when the spell will only last so long...she doesn't know how long, of course. Could be minutes, hours, or seconds before the map snaps out of it. Ideally they'll be standing over his boss' corpse when that happens.

"I can get that," Sancia volunteers, as the man mentions a paperweight. Perhaps it's a mechanism of some sort, perhaps it's...simply a paperweight. But, really, there's not much that's less engaging than watching a man prepare someone else's dinner, and Sancia is willing to play helper to expedite her revenge. Kalistria, guide my hand, she prays silently, hoping for a touch of divine favor in the coming fight. Five people - six, if Elly joined - against a single old man should be a simple matter, but if he had a tamed beast with him it could grow more difficult.

Either way, Sancia knows she's going to look forward to a soft bed by the end of the day. Fighting was a tiring thing.

[Red_Jenny]

Noirin was nonplussed by Yargin's cheery attitude, though as far as she was concerned, his true nature bled through when he started glowering and grumbling about Elly. Killing him seemed a bit much, and it was something Noirin avoided whenever possible, but she certainly wasn't going to let him wander off scot free, either. That was an issue for later, though. Right now? Well, she certainly wasn't going to pass up an invitation to poke around Lamm's operation behind closed doors, even if it was just the accountant's quarters.

"Of course!" Noirin offered in her best cheery singsong, though her actual expression could curdle milk. Off she went down the hall, and as soon as she got the door open, she began investigating.

Perception: [roll0]

[Ceralune]

Noirin

The room Yargin points you to appears to be a bedroom of sorts. Two bunk beds and one normal bed sit in this room, all bearing the same gray, but relatively clean, sheets. The bottom bunk, upon closer inspection, has the name "Giggles" carved into the wood. Similarly, the top bunk has what looks to be an opened box of cosmetics, though they're almost completely used up, marking it as the bed belonging to Hookshanks. The last bed has no indicator, but only Yargin is left, and thus it is probably his.

There aren't any valuables to be found here, but the stove Yargin mentioned is sitting in the corner, and a kettle sits on top, the water inside still rather hot.

Everyone Else

As Sancia tests out the paperweight (which, interestingly, isn't actually holding down any papers, so covered by slates is the desk), pushing it results in the sound of wood sliding on wood, and Yargin steps away from the prepared meal to easily open the trap door. He then shouts,

"Mr. Lamm?"

A few moments pass before you hear a light shuffling of steps coming from far down below. Then a deep, breathy voice rings out:

"Yargin... does this mean those intruders are gone?"

Yargin looks a bit nervously at you for a second, seeming to weigh in his mind whether or not you were still intruders. You did help him prepare Mr. Lamm's dinner, after all.

"It's just me, sire. Supper will be along shortly." He then looks up and towards the door, waiting for Noirin to come back with the water.

[Red_Jenny]

For a moment, Noirin considers filching the cosmetic box - they were worth their weight in gold for a street performer, and Hookshanks certainly wasn't going to be needing them any more, but thinks better of it in the end. Most were empty, and what little use she'd get wasn't worth coming into second-hand contact with the gnome's grimy fingers. Humming tunelessly, she filled the teapot and wandered back down the hall. As she did, a thought occurred that might help tip things even more in their favor.

As she passes Fisker, the halfling whispers "Do you, er, have anything poisonous in your collection of alchemist's goodies?" She nods towards the teapot and raises an eyebrow.

[Bhaakon]

Straightening his spine and shaking his head, Fisker glares at Noirin in sputtering, slack-jawed shock at the implication that he would carry around anything designed for poisoning a person. "Well..I...but...p-poison? N-never! Preposterous! Sc-scandalous!" He hisses at the halfling, simply aghast.

His paw clinches and tightens as he tries to decide between punching or merely slapping the halfling for the insulting assumption that he, Fisker, was the sort of rat to bandy about poison like candy. He was a respectable sort! He worked with many dangerous chemicals, after all, but none designed for harming people. Just tools. Tools that could be misused, just like a hammer or an axe could be weapons in angry hands.

Er...tools. Like the little silvered flask at his waist.

"W-well, there is the one thing." He pulls out his mutagen. "It's designed for me to use. If anyone else drinks it...wel, they won't die, but they might spend an hour or so wishing they had..."

[Red_Jenny]

Noirin listened to Fisker's idea and responded with an unsettling grin that would be best described as "feral."

"Well, that's enough time to get downstairs and put paid to Lamm, isn't it? If Gobblegut's real, I don't much want to deal with it and Gaedren at the same time, so how's about we pour him a cup of tea, yeah?"

She quietly lifted the lid, turning so the transaction would be shielded from Yargin's eyes - no telling what he did or didn't understand in his addled state, all the while appearing to just be cheerily chatting with the alchemist.

Sleight of Hand to spike the tea without Yargin noticing, if needed: [roll0]

[Ceralune]

Yargin fetches a chipped cup from the cabinet, and turns back to see Noirin and Fisker chatting. "Ohhh, you're back, bring that here," he says, his voice quiet but eager. Once the water is brought to him, he opens the lid and shakes in a few tea leaves, which quickly dye the liquid inside a dark reddish-black.

"I'm waiting, Yargin."

"J-Just a moment, sire!" Finally topping the teapot with the lid, Yargin carries the little tray over to the newly revealed hole in the floor. He carefully sets the tray onto what looks like a box attached to a rope and pulley system. Then, he lets go and the box disappears down into the level below, and a new box is brought up. As Yargin opens it, he takes out an empty tray and dishes, though notably fewer dishes than in the box that just got sent down. And you swear you saw a cockroach scuttling around in the box before Yargin hastily shuts it, and carries the dishes back over to the cabinet, setting them on a shelf.

With that, Yargin hurriedly closes the trap door with the push of a button (i.e. paperweight), and you hear the sound of wood sliding on wood again.

"Well, that wasn't too bad." Yargin brushes off imaginary dust from his sleeve, looking satisfied with himself.

[PersonMan]

"Say...if the boss wanted to come up, to see how things are going, how would he do it?" Sancia asks, after the trapdoor is once again closed. "He can't stay down there all the time, right?"

[Ceralune]

Yargin gives Sancia a surprised look, as though he had forgotten others were there. "Ohh, Mr. Lamm must be very careful. Why, he has stayed in his room for weeks at a time before. He prefers to, ahh, keep himself out of the public eye as much as he can. Though, when he has come up... well, he goes in through the boat out in the back."

[Bhaakon]

"I...er...I think I'd like to catch the fresh air." Fisker mutters. "W-which way to see that boat, did you say?" He takes his flask back from Noirin, now empty, and buckles it back in its little little receptacle on its belt. Hopefully Lamm wouldn't notice the odd taste until it was far too late. Needless to say, Fisker's special brew had some ingredients that could turn the stomach, quite literally, if you weren't inured to them.

[Merilan]

Leptira turned her cheek and placed a hand to it, in thought as she followed everyone else; it almost made no sense how Lamm quarried himself inside a trapdoor, though one with an escape route... Fisker was right, nodding gently. "I'd like some fresh air too, we'll be out of your hair so you can stay in your clean room, Mr. Yargin!"

[Red_Jenny]

Noirin slipped back into the room where the Lamms slept and quietly filled them in on the situation. "We're going to deal with the boss. The way out is clear if you want to go get your things, just, er, steer clear of Yargin's office. I don't quite know what 'Tira did to his head, or how long it'll last."

With that said, she joined those going outside. "Bit of fresh air sounds nice. Always liked being out on the river."

[Vanguardian]

Fiora took a long look at Yargin, measuring the man and his worth in her mind. He certainly has little to none sympathy for the little children. Maybe it was Leptira's magic talking, but he didn't seem to her like someone at fault for something beyond his indifference for the suffering of others. Surely despicable, but far from worthy for a blade in the liver. If fate would have it, she was hopping for him to end up close and personal with a hungry alligator and only the Lambs around to lend him a hand... or broom handle if they choose to do so. Gaedren on the other hand... well, let's say that alligators have to eat too...
Detect evil (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/classes/core-classes/paladin#TOC-Detect-Evil-Sp-) focused on Yargin.

[Ceralune]

Yargin seems distraught at the sight of what pretty much appears as a giant rat speaking to him, but at Leptira's words he calms down once more. "Ohh, well, the boat is out behind the building. You'd have to go outside and then around to the back. Good day." He offers what looks like a well-practiced bow, and then moves to set his chair upright once more.

Meanwhile, the Little Lambs look at you tensely. "Er... we don't really have anywhere to go, though," a little girl confesses lamely. "Can we wait for you?" She looks at Noirin with cautious hope.

Elly, however, tenses at the mention that you're going after Gaedren for an entirely different reason. "Tira... you're not coming with us? This is our chance to finally get away... you don't know what Gaedren will do to you if you go after him. Even without his thugs, he's still dangerous."

You sense an evil aura coming from Yargin, of moderate strength.

[Merilan]

Leptira did really want to just run off... but she shook her head and berated herself for thinking that, especially when these people have gone out of their way to help her! She-- held Elly's hand and said, "There's a..."

She eyed Yargin, then took her towards a side room to say in a private volume, "There's a safe place, the place of Mr. Fisker, that I've sent the other Lamms to. It's at 3 Lancet Street, I need you to make sure the other Lamms are taken care of for the time being..."

She hesitated, and then firmed her expression up, clenching her fists in a gesture that might be to work herself up to bravery. "I'm a bit scared, but I owe these people -- a lot. With this new magic, even if I barely know how it works, I know I can be of help to them. After that... after that, well--"

She smiled at Elly and hugged her again. "We'll work out what to do together, okay?"

[PersonMan]

"So," Sancia says, as Leptira goes off to the side to speak with Elly, moving to be outside of Yargin's office so she can speak freely without spooking the man. "Any specific plans for how we go after the boss and his pet? Fisker, do you have more of those fire bombs?"