CotCT 5e IC

[purepolarpanzer]

Creissus "Crease" Walrun Ornetto IV Human Bard AC: 14 HP: 17/17 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 12 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Bardic Inspiration- 1d6 3/3 2 / 2 d8 HD "I require no compensation. I did what I did to maintain the bonds of status, not for some base reward. If the Factor can use the potions, let him take them. Perhaps the orphans could use them to soothe childhood injuries." Truth be told, Crease would have accepted some form of payment out of practicality if something more substantial had been offered, but denying one gave him one more reason to look down his nose at the brutish Shadi woman, and that was worth more than a healing potion or two. "Goodbye, Amin Jalento. May your travels be safer and your fortunes be fair. Tell your family that the Ornettos wish them the best." Crease gives a wide smile and a tip of his hat to the handsome bachelor and move to follow Loric, doing his best not to slouch under the weight of his ingots. The prospect of reward put a bit more spring in his step, at least.

[Amnestic]

There's a momentary flash of concern from Amin at Shadi's question, but the rest of the party defuses the situation before he can properly respond. "Alas, I find myself tapped out of anything else to offer. Perhaps if they'd jumped me before my market trip I'd have more to give." He shrugs his shoulders, letting the awkward moment wash off them with the motion. "But I can certainly put in a good word when I next see Master Orsini." He gives another light bow. "May we meet again under more fortuitous circumstances." With that farewell, the young nobleman turns and walks away with a light wave of his hand.

The rest of the journey to the Gold Market is, thankfully, quiet and uneventful. The wide open square (well, circle) is the largest market in Korvosa, and attracts people from all over the city on a daily basis for stands, stalls and tents. Around the edges of the market are more permanent fixtures that are usually for the moneyed or those who need additional security, including the money changer for your ingots, and those who buy and sell magical items. Though it's certainly more subdued on account of the snow, there's still numerous active stands, and there's a notable increase in heat compared to the previous streets from vendors offering fresh hot food to warm the body and soul on the cold winter's day. Thankfully, with the money changer inside its own heated building they too are open for business. Cold may keep some inside, but the call of coin means can overcome even the chillest of days.

Spoiler: OOC

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Occurs to me that I didn't identify the wands previously.
They are a Wand of Acid Splash (DC13), 5 charges, 1d4+1 charges restored on a LR - 200gp value (So sells for 100gp)
and a Wand of Minor Magic Missiles. 1 charge to cast Magic Missile at 1st level, restores its charge on a long rest, no risk of breaking. - 200gp value.

Counting up the things already slated for sale, you have the following. Prices are now how much you'll get baseline.

Spoiler: Spoiler

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Cigar Case - 12.5gp
Cheliax Ingot - 50gp
Gold Crown - 175gp
Kraken Scrimshaw - 100gp
Silver Ring with engraving - 75gp
Succubi Figurine - 225gp
Shell-Shelyn Symbol - 150gp
Fancy Shuriken - 100gp

Flail - 5gp
Kukri - 5gp
Dagger - 1gp
Leather Armour - 5gp
Chain Mail - 37.5gp
Longbow - 25gp
Arrows - 0.9gp

Total Sell: 966.9gp

Ingots will be exchanged at market rate, so they're the full 1500gp, which brings your subtotal to 2469.9gp, split six ways. Potentially up to 200 more if you sell off both wands too.

The market itself has every mundane item on offer, along with magical items up-to-and-including anything Uncommon rarity immediately available. Rare and Very Rare items can be special ordered, and will take time to arrive in the city (anywhere between 1d4 weeks usually, subject to change based on the state of the city). Legendaries are a no-go.

For the sake of my own sanity in not having to individually price up everything we'll use the Sane Magical Item Prices here. Anything not listed on there (such as Tasha's items) I'll put a price too if/when people ask for it. I'm also not necessarily against homebrew items you either have made yourself or find online if there's something cool+thematic you've been thinking of.

[3SecondCultist]

Shadi, Who Was Skoan-Quah Human Stone Sorcerer HP: 18/18, AC: 13 PP: 14, PI: 14 Active Effects: None Conditions: None Concentrating: —

It is to be exactly expected that the bard would take the contrary stance. Her desire to knock out a few of his teeth only intensifies as he smiles and tips his hat; she's learned a long time ago that men who look like him are the most dangerous when they smile. It could therefore be categorized as self-defense. But Shadi's frown evaporates when both Loric and Pogdan turn away, replaced by a look of puzzlement. Though she does not care overmuch about what the others think, she has assumed that at least the two of them have some sense of... well, sense. Was she wrong about them, or wrong to push the lordling to honor a life-debt?

Later at the market, Shadi deposits her pair of ingots along with the rest and silently looms over each transaction. It is not greed that drives her - she does not press the group for any additional coin beyond her share, readily gives up claim to either of the wands, and even tosses in a few token gold pieces into the communal 'save the children' fund - but rather a desire to ensure that the spoils are divided equally and she retains her share. The entire time, she watches every member of the group out of the corner of her eye. The causes they have spouted in the brief period of their association include charity, law and order, kindness, property, and good sense; she half-expects any of them to clear their throat and use their words to eloquently argue their right to claim more.

As if speaking of a thing can make it true.

When the trading is over, she has a heavy purse of trade bars and coins for spending. Wrapping them up with her other meagre belongings, the Shoanti stares at the rest of the group.

"Are we done then?"

Spoiler: OOC

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Shadi will take her sixth of the gold - 411.5 gp - and keep 400 of it for herself. She'll give 11 gold over to Loric to help take care of some of the kids. She's also not going to press for the wands or take any gold from their sale.

[purepolarpanzer]

Creissus "Crease" Walrun Ornetto IV Human Bard AC: 14 HP: 17/17 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 12 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Bardic Inspiration- 1d6 3/3 2 / 2 d8 HD Crease takes his time perusing the merchants wares, but he doesn't buy much. There will always be time for more purchases later, and there is something to be said for having liquid capital to work with. Besides, he must send some portion of this to Anoria to secure her lifestyle (and prove to the Devuns that he wasn't a waste of flesh). He does, however, treat himself to another brace of crossbow bolts, as the weapon was considerably more lethal than his weakest spells. He also purchased something from a clothier's stall, which he immediately donned, relishing the feeling of velvet against his skin. After that he returned to the others. Crease struck a heroic pose and issued a mental command, causing his new royal purple velvet cloak with a spotted white fur trim to billow dramatically behind him. "What do you all think? Does it make me look as dashing as it makes me feel?" He released the enchantment and turned to nuzzle the soft fabric. His old cloak, which was a bit ragged but perfectly functional, was gone. "It's exceptionally warm, and my wardrobe needed an update for this winter." He removes a small purse he'd purchased and extends it to Loric. "A portion for your orphans. I wouldn't have come into these funds if not for their dilemma, so I think you'll find I've been a generous enough that they may whisper a prayer for me if they see fit." Even in charity, it seemed, Crease thrived on recognition and attention. True to his word, however, it was a sizeable sum. In response to Shadi's question, Crease spoke up. "I daresay we've accomplished much together. If we are to part ways, I'd say that despite less than warm feelings for one another we should go our separate paths after an afternoon meal. It's a Varisian tradition my family was fond of in our business dealings. I'd also like to, in honor of our departed benefactor, do a reading of the Harrow for all of us using her deck. I think Lady Zellara would wish us to separate knowing some tidings of each other's possible futures."

Spoiler: OOC

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Purchasing a small purse to hold 50 84 gp for the orphans, a cloak of billowing from Xanathar's, 20 crossbow bolts, a journal for Crease to scribble in, one page of stationary for a letter to his sister Anoria, and holding on to the rest. Crease plans on sending 75 gp to his sister, leaving him with 200 gp spending cash till our next windfall. I'll deduct the 75 gp now, but drop of the letter and the gold during downtime. EDIT- Studded leather armor for 45 gp as well, leaving Crease with 155 gp.

[TriciaOso]

Factor Podgan, Deep Gnome Cleric of Abadar Level 2 | HP: 17/17 | AC: 18 PP: 14 | PIv: 13 | PIn: 14 Concentration: No | Active Effects: No

Podgan noodles quietly on the back of a scrap of paper, doing his own accounting as the funds are split up. Once he has his gold, he pushes 50 back to be shared among the others, the resale price of the potions.

"Master Loric, I agree your idea is a good one. I was, myself, an orphan enslaved by Lamm, long ago, and it was only by the mercy of the Church of Abadar that I was able to free myself. I thought killing Lamm would bring me comfort, but while I cannot and do not regret his death, I find... it cannot change the past. Looking to the future of those we liberated is a far more comforting thought."

"I would like to propose we create a trust in the Bank of Abadar for these youth, rather than pay the orphanage a lump sum. With... perhaps 500 gold held in trust, the expense to the orphanage can be defrayed by their annual dividend, and when they come of age, they will have a reasonable sum for a dowry or apprenticeship or whatever path they wish to pursue."

"I do not expect all, or indeed any, of you to contribute. We each have our own reasons to be here, and it would be foolish to expect us all to share a common attitude towards... well, anything, as I believe we've seen. But I believe we are all honorable beings, as we each account honor, and that anything we *could* agree on is surely the right thing to do."

It is by far the longest speech the Factor has ever made in your presence, saving perhaps Scipio.

"We have 108 gold so far, and I will contribute all that I have, but I do hope we can find the remainder among us?"

[Bunny Commando]

Scipio Arquetius - HP: 17/17 - Conditions: None - Active Effects: None - Harrow Points: 1

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Even though he doesn't seem animated by greed, Scipio takes his share of the gold with relief; the gaunt, pale appereance and the worn out clothes don't speak of someone living in wealth and the ample reward for having killed Lamm would certainly give him a bit of respite in the troubled times ahead. He throws a sideways look at Crease and his vanity, but apart from that he doesn't seem that interested in talking and making friends.

But when Pogdan talks, he listens. He scratches his head, a bit puzzled - it's apparent from his attire he knows little of how to manage his finances - but in the end he nods, completely on board with the plan "I'll match whatever sum you decide to put into this fund, sir." and while it doesn't take that much to understand that Scipio would certainly need the money, he seems to respect Pogdan more.

Spoiler

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Would like to buy Alchemist's Supplies (50gp), Smith's Tools (20 gp), Tinker's Tools (50 gp) and maybe a Pot of Awakening, but I'm going to wait and see how much Pogdan is going to put in the "Save the Children" fund

[purepolarpanzer]

Creissus "Crease" Walrun Ornetto IV Human Bard AC: 15 HP: 17/17 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 12 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Bardic Inspiration- 1d6 3/3 2 / 2 d8 HD Crease smiles at Podgan, reaching into his purse and carefully extracting more coins. "If your math holds true, Factor, a bit more today means my charity will extend for the rest of these poor waifs childhoods. As the poet Lainwright put it, "I am charitable on payday and spendthrift on payday's eve.". You've caught me at the right time. If there's official paperwork, let it state that the Ornetto family paid their fair share." He hands over enough to pay a full portion of this trust fund and considers himself paid up on charity for a lengthy future. Now he could be selfish with the remainder, he consoled himself internally.

[RandomWombat]

Loric the Tanner Human Monk/Ranger AC: 16 HP: 18/18 PP: 13 PIv: 10 PIs: 13 Conditions: -- As someone who has lived the life of an Osirian commoner and then an outcast on the fringes of society, a bank is an entirely new beast to Loric. And the Factor's words of trusts and bonds and dividends is an entirely new nightmare to wrap his mind around. Taking the gold bars from his bag, he hands all three to Podgan. "I am willing to offer up to half of my share if needed. I trust you to see it done correctly," he says, entrusting the task to the gnome who clearly knows much better than he. There is no sign of suspicion, or even care should the Factor attempt to swindle him. While Podgan makes the calculations, Loric waits patiently. He watches Crease play with his new cloak with, for perhaps the first time, a small expression of amusement on his face. "In my homeland, we must wear light yet long clothes to cover us from the sun without drowning us in heat. They billow in the desert wind in a most satisfying way. There are no cresting sand dunes here in Korvosa, but perhaps you could find a snowy hill and appear like something out of a picture book." The new clothing does make him consider something. After acquiring his remaining share, he purchases new, warmer clothing for himself and seeks out bundles of furs he can use to make his home warmer and more comfortable.

[Zero Prime]

Aubin D'Ambrosio, Hellknight deserter AC: 15 | HIT POINTS: 20 | CURRENT 20 | HIT DIE: 2d10 | CURRENT: 2d10 INITIATIVE: +4 | PASSIVE PERCEPTION: 11 | PASSIVE INSIGHT: 13 ACTIVE EFFECTS: None. CONDITIONS: None. Aubin nodded silently at the departing nobleman, wanting little, and less, to do with the man's extortion, nor certainly wishing to draw the ire of a master duellist's pupil. Instead he contented himself with spending the Queen's coin, securing a great coat, one that duid not smell of bay water and soot, reinforced with worked leather and steel studs meant to protect, both from the elements and turn an attacker's blade from the wearers vitals. While at the leather worker's shop getting fitted he chose a bandolier of sturdy leather, that the keeper assured him was proofed against rain, sleet, and water. Pleased that it may protect smoke powder charges dry in the weather, he offered the coin he had. And finally, he found an alchemist's shop, wherein he bartered and purchased powder and shot for his pistol, as well as the specialized tools he need in the field to repair his pistol, it's firing pan or barrel. Satisfied with his purchases he returned to the group, offering a share of his coin to the Factor, as they spoke of trusts and annuities for the orphans. "However," he spoke quietly, "I'd much prefer if I could procure quarters at the orphanage, even a grounds keepers shack would suffice." He shrugged his shoulders, "If a noble scion, and purported duelist is vulnerable to attack in the streets, how soon, then, will the most vulnerable among us, the children, have to endure such indignity? Korvosa is a powder keg, and I cannot escape the feeling my actions last night were a spark. So I'll do what I can to stop the fires spreading, even if it means working fir the Quuen's man." At this last he looked to his circled accomplices, "And you, what do you now mean to do, that our fortunes are not bound to the past?"

[RandomWombat]

Loric the Tanner Human Monk/Ranger AC: 16 HP: 18/18 PP: 13 PIv: 10 PIs: 13 Conditions: -- Now reconvening with those waiting to go visit the guard captain, Loric considers the question. What does he mean to do now? Assuming his actions that night do not return to bite him. Perhaps he would obtain tools to begin tanning leather himself... but not yet. It would draw suspicion. Thought of the future has become an alien thing in his life of toil, drudgery and poverty. And that thoughtlessness brought with it a kind of peace, the kind of peace his heart both yearns for and recoils from. Tapping his fingers along his staff, he answers hesitantly, "I still must speak with a Varisian about the fortune teller's last rites. After last night it was too late to disturb strangers at their doors... and this morning, I came swift to meet with you." He nods. It is not a far future plan. But it is a next step for him. "Factor Podgan. Could you come with me?" he asks, looking to the gnome. "This money may also help the people in the shanty camp, if properly managed. We could consult some of the respected elders in the community."

[TriciaOso]

Factor Podgan, Deep Gnome Cleric of Abadar Level 2 | HP: 17/17 | AC: 18 PP: 14 | PIv: 13 | PIn: 14 Concentration: No | Active Effects: No

"Yes, of course," the gnome agrees. He essays a small smile. "The Bank may be closed today, but it seems Abadar has use for me yet. If anyone else needs financial advice I am at your service as well."

He nods up at Crease. "And I agree with the plan to take a meal together, at least."

[Bunny Commando]

Scipio Arquetius - HP: 17/17 - Conditions: None - Active Effects: None - Harrow Points: 1

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"Might be a good idea to see what Marshal Kroft wants - I know her, she's a bit of a maverick." as usual, Scipio shares little; he certainly don't trust much his new acquaintances, but one might understand how the former watchman doesn't really like to be known and definitely feels safer in anonimity. He certainly doesn't seem in a convivial mood and is about to turn down the offer of a meal when Pogdan accepts, so he reluctantly nods as well.

"Meal is fine. Divination is not. Don't take offense, but some of you don't know when to keep their mouths shut." he says while looking at Shadi, the jab certainly directed at her.

[purepolarpanzer]

Creissus "Crease" Walrun Ornetto IV Human Bard AC: 15 HP: 17/17 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 12 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Bardic Inspiration- 1d6 3/3 2 / 2 d8 HD Crease harumphs slightly at Scipio's unwillingness to take part in a divination ritual, silently thinking that he will in fact include the paranoid man in the ceremony, at least in his own mind. Onward to Croft, then.

[Amnestic]

With your shopping done and arrangements for any readings put on hold for now, you proceed the short distance towards the keep that sits on the shores of the river. Nowhere near as impressive or imposing as Castle Korvosa or the Acadamae in size, scope or style, Citadel Volshyenek is a squat four walls connected by turreted corners, utterly utilitarian in design as a headquarters and stronghold first, and anything else a distant second. The Guard would like you to believe this is intentional and that funds that might go towards redeveloping, expanding or 'doing up' their headquarters are instead spent on more worthy pursuits, but the truth is just that they lack any funding to make any notable adjustments. Eodred II's spendthrift attitude unfortunately did not extend to those who patrol the streets, a continuing factor that has lead to Hellknights filling in the gaps.

If the utilitarian nature of the building's design doesn't catch your eye, then what's more likely to find your attention is the lack of guards, a stark contrast to the Queen's residence which bristled with weaponry. Instead there's a mere two soldiers at the gates, both looking severely overworked and in dire need of rest. Your welcome is, thankfully, a touch warmer than the one you had at the top of the steep hill. When they spot you, one of them yawns and waves you over. "You the ones the Castle sent word about yeah?" It's a rhetorical question as he immediately turns on his heel and beckons you to follow.
"Come with me then, Kroft'll want to see you first thing. Tommy, hold down the fort yeah?" The other guard groans, equally tired, but his lazy nod signals his agreement in a way your escort wouldn't have seen, for he's already moving into the Keep grounds. The inside of the Citadel is as quiet as the guard gate outside. While Scipio might have normally expected to see trainees being drilled, soldiers relaxing in between shifts, or general activity of things moving hither and thither, the open area is desolate of people, and the snowfall is steadily settling into a thickening sheet of white. For a moment, the Citadel appears very very old, almost ruined, in nature, but the moment passes just as quickly as it came.

Your escort brings you into the main building, through a small series of corridors, up a mercifully short flight of stairs, and down another corridor into what feels like the centralmost point of the Citadel. Heated voices in deep argument - a man and a woman - are heard as you approach an utterly unremarkable door, and for a moment your escort smirks at you, in a way that could be both patronising and encouraging at the same time. He knocks twice and cracks the door open. "Group from the Queen here to see you, Field Marshal."

Entering into the Field Marshal's office you find it as spartan as the rest of the building, with the sheer minimum of furniture required to do her job, which judging by the desk piled with papers involves a lot more writing than guarding. Sat behind her pile of papers in copper-red armour is a dark-haired woman who looks at least twice as tired as the guards who let you in. She's leant forwards slightly on her desk as she beckons you in, but doesn't get up. Stood across the desk from the woman who could only be the Field Marshal is a man - a shoanti, if his manner of dress is any indication. His tan leathery skin is covered by light traveling garb that's far too thin for cold this bitter. Around his neck is draped a necklace of bones, and when he turns his face to you, his cloudy eyes are bordered by a pale white face tattoo in the shape of a skull. Shadi would recognise the design immediately - the man is of the Skoan-Quah. At the most generous guess, the man is pushing 60, but he could be even older, and his heavy walking stick is a definite sign of old age. "You have guests, Cressida. I will return." It's not a threat, but the definitive statement and lack of asking for permission is immediately notable. He gives a small nod in acknowledgement to the group as a whole as he leaves, but to Shadi he gazes into her eyes directly for a moment before continuing on his way, his footsteps accompanied by the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of his stick.

For her part, the Field Marshal seems relieved that the man has left, sighing with quiet relief. "Her Majesty sent word. You've probably been told, but so you're aware, I'm Cressida Kroft, Field Marshal of the Korvosan Guard. Don't know why, they didn't tell me, maybe I don't want to know, but the Queen seems to think you might be of help to stop the city tearing itself apart, and as you probably saw outside we're stretched thinner than we've ever been. If you're up for lending the city some aid, we need what help we can get. You would be compensated depending on the work, of course, case by case basis. We're not expecting charity." A wry smile turns the corners of the tired soldier's lips, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

Spoiler: Citadel Volshyenek, Int (History)

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Spoiler: DC1

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Another castle! Probably not a Queen in this one as well though. What city needs two Queens?

Spoiler: DC2

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The headquarters of the Korvosan City Guard, named for the 'Eternal Lord' Volshyenek Ornelos who funded its construction roughly 160-170 years ago.

Spoiler: DC8

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There are supposedly a vast system of tunnels, vaults and caverns beneath the Citadel that flood every year from rising springwater in the Jeggare River. Rumours have persisted for over a century that the Citadel's vaults hold vast wealths...and vast corpses, though the city maintains that the vaults and tunnels exist solely to prevent flooding that might damage the city otherwise.

Spoiler: Lord Volshyenek Ornelos, Int (History)

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Spoiler: DC1

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His parents named him after a castle?

Spoiler: DC8

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Lord Ornelos (who had both moniker of "Eternal Lord" and "Immortal Lord" used with equal frequency) was born in 4398 and died in 4607. Living for almost 210 years is what gave him his moniker. Originally from Chelix, Lord Ornelos migrated with his familar to Varisia after being slighted by the then-Emperor. In addition to funding the construction of the Citadel for the Guard, Lord Ornelos also self-funded the construction of hte Acadamae.

Spoiler: DC14

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No one truly knows the secret of Volshyenek's longevity. Rumours abound that he made a deal with a devil for longevity - as was the style in Cheliax, though his (supposed) fate of dying to a group of powerful devils casts that under some doubt. Regardless of how he managed it exactly, his name is nevertheless well respected and acknowledged in Korvosa a century later.

[RandomWombat]

Loric the Tanner Human Monk/Ranger AC: 16 HP: 18/18 PP: 13 PIv: 10 PIs: 13 Conditions: -- The march through the old citadel passes by like a breeze, moving on either side of Loric but not truly reaching through to him. It is one of the times between times, between events, the man barely lucid as memories and tangled thoughts sift through his mind. Only when they meet the out of place Shoanti man does he slip from the between place, taking in the surroundings as if waking up. Citadel Volshyenek. He remembers tales of its 'eternal' lord, even from back home. The cycle of life and death holds much meaning in the Osirian belief system, and so rumors of those who seem outside of its touch circulate often. Listening to the Field Marshal, he nods softly. Not a nod of gentleness, but one lacking force and certainty. Going with the direction of the river. As ever, wealth has little meaning to him - he already has the things that will guarantee his survival over the winter. But with it he can help others in the Thieves' Camp to obtain the same. "What needs to be done?" he asks plainly, without any pleasantries.

[Amnestic]

Kroft isn't so easy to please that she relaxes or looks reassured, but she does lean back in her chair. At the least she didn't receive an immediate rejection. "Right now I've got two problems that I can't send my people to deal with. First is internal - as I said, we're stretched thin. A not insignificant number of my men have deserted, concerned more for their family than the city at large." There's no judgement or condemnation in her voice, she delivers it as a flat fact. "But some who've left...they don't have families. They're using the upheaval for their own games. One of them is Verik Vancaskerkin. Instead of just deserting on his own he managed to convince a small group last night to go with him."

"A deserter is worse than a lost resource - it's an infection, I can't risk pulling my guards off their patrols, especially if they could be swayed with his talk of secession from the Queen, and I'd rather him not be killed outright. I need impartial, skilled talent to bring him in. Vancaskerkin and his group have holed up in an abandoned butcher's in Northgate apparently, 'All the World's Meat'. Avoid killing if you can, we'd rather take them alive for interrogation, find out just where this sudden political drive came from. I'll give you 500 gold for Vancaskerkin alive, 150 for each of his compatriots, and half if they're dead."

She takes a moment to stop, for a brief second unsure to continue, but she seems to push past the concerns, if only because she lacks any other choice. "Before the King's death we had some concerns about one of the Chelish ambassadors - Darvayne Gios Amprei. He's no fan of Korvosa, even has a published book about how much he hates the place." she adds sardonically, "A...trusted source has informed me that he had plans to recommend Cheliax sanction or embargo trade with Korvosa, which would cripple the economy. The plan, I'm told, is for Amprei to then buy up vast swaths of land from desperate holders, before using his Chelish connections to reverse the sanctions, which would give him immense power and wealth in two simple strokes."

"Thankfully, the ambassador has his foibles. My source says he frequently makes visits to Eel's End, run by 'The King of Spiders' Devargo Barvasi. As much as I'd love to put the bastard out of business he pays his vice taxes on time and he keeps the crimes contained to the ships he has moored there. Devargo wouldn't let any guard into Eel's End...which is why I need some independent agents to do so on my behalf. Put simply, I need you to go to Eel's End, talk to Devargo and find out what he knows about Amprei. Get proof of any illicit goings on that we can use to pressure the ambassador to hold off on his plans. I'll pay you 1000 gold for this, along with providing funds for a bribe - which you can keep any excess of." She pauses again, her eyes glancing to the shut door behind you, as if peering through it for a moment. "Devargo is dangerous, but if things get violent then no one would mourn his passing, and it would be a service to the city that would have you recognised for doing so."

"Any questions?"

Spoiler: Eel's End, Int History

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Do eels have butts?

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It's a clot of ships at the eastern end of the narrows on Old Korvosa, a tangle of five ships permanently moored to one of the piers there. Since its inception, it's been run by Devargo Barvasi, known to many as the King of Spiders for his strange empathy with the long-legged creatures.

Spoiler: DC12

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The four smaller ships that comprise Eel's End are the Goldenhawk (a flophouse for drunkards and derelicts), the Twin Tigers (a raucous gambling hall), the House of Clouds (A brothel) and the Dragon's Breath (a drug den).

The largest ship is the Eel's End itself, a decomissioned warship that serves as Devargo's headquarters and stronghold.

[purepolarpanzer]

Creissus "Crease" Walrun Ornetto IV Human Bard AC: 15 HP: 17/17 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 12 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Bardic Inspiration- 1d6 3/3 2 / 2 d8 HD Crease resists the urge to shiver in the presence of Croft. Her professionalism not withstanding, she must be some relation to the girl he had a passing with some time ago. He rarely liked to dally when it came to his dalliances, and this was a bit too close for comfort, especially considering the power and political sway of the Field Marshall. He resolved to keep his mouth shut as much as possible through this exchange in hopes of being ignored, something that came very difficult to the show off inside him. Still, he couldn't COMPLETELY help himself. "I have some connections in Old Korvosa. Friends of friends. I may be able to get us an introduction to Barvasi. Maybe."

[3SecondCultist]

Shadi, Who Was Skoan-Quah Human Stone Sorcerer HP: 18/18, AC: 13 PP: 14, PI: 14 Active Effects: None Conditions: None Concentrating: —

Gold in hand, the Shoanti is sorely tempted to just take her belongings and walk away. What else does she owe these people, who she does not understand and do not understand her in turn? Every sentence seems a miscommunication, every action taken in the worst possible light. The smarmy noble deserves a few good kicks in the teeth, the fighter puts her on edge, and the less said about the Hellknight the better. She cannot, at that moment, provide herself a compelling reason to follow them down the street, let alone halfway across the city on yet another fool's errand. The idea of sitting down for a meal with these people almost has her laughing, for she desires nothing less. She has means now, the wealth necessary to if not rebuild her little restaurant, at least get started on the seed money. Korvosa has little left for her.

So why does she raise no argument when the matter turns to cooperation? And why, spirits help her, does she follow the group like a lost puppy as they depart, not saying a word when it's even made clear she is being scorned by the guard? Try as she might, Shadi cannot come to terms with the reason. It cannot just be destiny - the drawing of a card does not a common purpose make. Right?

All that to say that by the time they arrive at Citadel Volshyenek - the castle itself is known to her, yet she is less on edge for the lack of visible steel atop its ramparts - Shadi has descended into another bout of pensive silence. To any casual observer, her demeanour would seem no different than before: she would appear as a stone, a heavy woman prone to brooding. Yet there is no shadow of a frown on her face, no turmoil behind her eyes. It has been excised by a new emotion, one she does not know how to articulate in their tongue, so she keeps it to herself.

In fact, Shadi does not speak a single word the entire meeting. She has no feelings about Kroft one way or the other, but the woman's job offers seem fair enough in the interim. It's not like she has much else to do, or to lose by saying yes. Eel's End is hardly a great place to go, but with the payout that's promised she can not only start on her destiny, but make some real progress towards hiring some wait staff. Maybe a little sign out front.

[Bunny Commando]

Scipio Arquetius - HP: 17/17 - Conditions: None - Active Effects: None - Harrow Points: 1

---------------

Scipio stays in the back, trying to avoid Kroft's gaze; he's well aware there's little chance the Marshal's going to recognize him, but the shame he brought on himself with Lamm as the chief enabler still haunts him. When the Marshal shares with the group what needs to be done, he doesn't seem surprised at all - it's still the same old story, corruption and cutthroat politics and the Guard bound and powerless.

At least the Marshal's not asking them to hunt down dissidents as he feared, so he chimes in to offer whatever knowledge he has on Barvasi "The problem of employing violence against Barvasi is twofold: the pier is full of civilians, there to gamble, whore, drink and get high and so are quite unpredictable; and Barvasi himself, who's known to have quite the creepy relationship with spiders and he's holed up in a warship with his men. We're not talking a small-timer like Lamm." again, Scipio seems to be a well of information on Korvosa and its people "Not saying that I would be displeased to watch Barvasi choke on two pounds of steel, just saying that things could get even messier than what happened at the fishery."

[Zero Prime]

Aubin D'Ambrosio, Hellknight deserter AC: 15 | HIT POINTS: 20 | CURRENT 20 | HIT DIE: 2d10 | CURRENT: 2d10 INITIATIVE: +4 | PASSIVE PERCEPTION: 11 | PASSIVE INSIGHT: 13 ACTIVE EFFECTS: None. CONDITIONS: None. Aubin, much like their Shoanti companion, watched the exchange dispassionately, he had been to the Eel's End a number of times as the Viscount, however, he had done little to investigate the King of Spiders' identity. Personally, he thought it may be of a larger benefit to Kroft to resolve the desertion, to prevent the Guards' ranks from being depleted while they complete the lengthier assignment. It was, after all, a shell game of economic trade law and market value, something, he felt the Factor would take very seriously, and bordered on the heretical in Abbadar's eyes. He shrugged, he was focused on Vancaskerkin and his cronies, "If we're heading to Northgate, I'd like to put eyes on this butcher's shop before we roll in, and if you can arrange it, I'd like a fat pig or two, maybe a cage of chickens, some livestock would help us gain access." He stopped, scratched his chin, "Maybe a couple night sticks, and manacles for your deserters." He looked to Shadi, "Me and Shadi could keep eyes on the butcher's while Crease tries to arrange a meet with the Spider?"

[RandomWombat]

Loric the Tanner Human Monk/Ranger AC: 16 HP: 18/18 PP: 13 PIv: 10 PIs: 13 Conditions: -- The speak of ambassadors and trade sanctions boggles Loric's mind, and his mouth curls into a frown. "Navigating... politics," he says, the word dripping with contempt, "Is not among my skills. Give me an enemy, and I will do my part." It's unclear who he is truly addressing, if anyone at all. He is still looking at Kroft, but his eyes are distant, looking past her at something in the distance beyond the stone walls behind. "I can bring them in alive," he adds, after considering his previous statement may be construed as unnecessarily eager or bloodthirsty.

[Amnestic]

Cressida nods quietly as you each speak up. "I can't spare any people, and if you want to get some livestock that's not an expense we can cover, but I'll authorise a few sets of manacles."

"I'm not going to tell you how to do it, I'm sure you've got enough ideas of your own, but Devargo's ship is probably devoid of civilians, just his goons and his pets." From beneath her desk she retrieves, and then throws, a clinking bag to Loric. He'd spoken up first after all. "A thousand coins should buy Devargo's information, if you can get him in a good mood." A quick inspection and mental weighing of the bag confirms the Field Marshal's description - the bag does indeed hold 1000 gold coins. "If you've got anything else to say or ask now's the time, otherwise..." She gestures wearily to her desk of papers. The meaning is clear: she's still got a city to calm down.

[purepolarpanzer]

Creissus "Crease" Walrun Ornetto IV Human Bard AC: 15 HP: 17/17 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 12 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Bardic Inspiration- 1d6 3/3 2 / 2 d8 HD I suggest we take any planning we have outside and leave the Field Marshall to her obviously heavily burdened desk of paperwork. Crease's eyes go wide at the hefty bag of coin that has been literally tossed into their laps, but he knows that if he misappropriates any of it there will be hell to pay. Still, perhaps if he can negotiate a more reasonable rate with the Spider and split the remainder with his allies as a well deserved tip... either way, he does not want to linger in this office, so he begins taking small steps towards the door, hoping the others will take the cue.

[RandomWombat]

Loric the Tanner Human Monk/Ranger AC: 16 HP: 18/18 PP: 13 PIv: 10 PIs: 13 Conditions: -- Loric deftly catches the coin pouch and looks at it, then awkwardly presents it to the Factor like a cat presenting its master a dead mouse it caught. "Might I suggest we speak with the deserters first..?" he asks, dropping the pouch into the Abadarian Cleric's trustworthy palm. "Perhaps they can yet be brought back into the fold, before they take this too far."

[Amnestic]

Though she doesn't say it outloud, Cressida seems quietly thankful for you making yourself scarce - as much because of her workload as because it means you're hopefully carrying out the tasks requested. A short stop at the armoury sees you furnished with four sets of manacles. Scipio can note that the armoury itself is looking a little bit sparse compared to how well stocked one might expect the guard citadel to be. Any inquiries with the man on duty are met with non-committal grunts, however, and you're unable to scrape any additional insight from him.

A short trip back to the market finds a particularly skinny cows whose owner is happy to part with the beast for five gold coins. Some might call it 'runty', if they find insulting cows to be an adequate pastime, but regardless of descriptors offered the shivering beast of milk and beef follows when lead by its rope. The snow continues to pile on, blocking what would be an overhead sun from truly illuminating the city. It's difficult to tell at a glance, but if you're not mistaken it looks like it's likely to get worse before it gets better, and your newest acquisition may need to find a warm hearth along with the rest of you when night falls.

Following Cressida's directions to All the World's Meat isn't difficult, and it's easily located on the southeastern edge of Northgate, a mere twenty or thirty minutes slog through the frigid streets. The muffled noises from ahead as you turn onto the street herald an unusual sight: outside of the market it's the most people you've seen on the streets all day today. A crowd of commonfolk, dressed as warm as they can muster, are queued up outside the door in a line the stretches into at least thirty or more people, all clutching sacks, bags or other containers. Every time it seems like the line might reduce in size another individual or small group appears from the street and rushes to join the line. Those who leave all appear to do so carrying more out than they did going in, and the eagle eyed among you note that neither those who go in nor those who come out are carrying coin pouches visibily. While your group (or the cow) may attract a glance or two, it's nothing significant, with most being far more eager to join the line at the butcher's.

The two-story building itself looks to be in a state of significant disrepair. The windows are boarded up, the roof is missing tiles, and the sign (bearing the image of a caricatured fat pig) that sits above the front door is faded and dull. Nevertheless there are signs of fresh, hastily made patch repairs with little skill or care made to their implementation or aesthetics. Beside the stone-and-mortar building and directly connected to it appears to be a fenced off area to one side with its top exposed to the elements, though the wooden planks are connected too tightly to peer through, and too tall to see over unless one of you offers the other their shoulders to stand or you want to climb the construction - things that would surely attract attention from the crowd of patrons.

[RandomWombat]

Loric the Tanner Human Monk/Ranger AC: 16 HP: 18/18 PP: 13 PIv: 10 PIs: 13 Conditions: -- Eyeing the line of hungry people flowing in and out of the butcher's shop, Loric makes a small huff of air. "This looks less like a rebel stronghold and more like a soup kitchen," he says, coolly, wondering whether the guard captain knew or cared what these deserters were doing with their time.

[TriciaOso]

Factor Podgan, Deep Gnome Cleric of Abadar Level 2 | HP: 17/17 | AC: 18 PP: 14 | PIv: 13 | PIn: 14 Concentration: No | Active Effects: No

Podgan has been quiet thus far. In truth, he does not need to be a part-time adventurer, but their common experience has left him feeling a certain proprietary concern for these folk. If they are going into danger, he intends to keep them alive.

He accepts his role as caretaker of the bribe with relative equanimity, and trails along to ALL THE WORLD'S MEAT. "All we can do is see what's going on," he says to Loric, although he has the same qualms. "I do not wish to hurt peaceable men, but if they are working against the Queen..."

[purepolarpanzer]

Creissus "Crease" Walrun Ornetto IV Human Bard AC: 15 HP: 17/17 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 12 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Bardic Inspiration- 1d6 3/3 2 / 2 d8 HD Crease raises his nose. Unwashed hoards of common folk. Repulsive. Is the situation so dire that they must line up for hand outs? With no shortage of self-disgust, he realizes that if he had not been fortunate enough to find the Queen's brooch he would likely be milling with the rest of them for scraps. Speaking up, he says I fear my eloquence may be wasted here. Do any of you have more appeal with the common man? I fear I may offend them, or risk a reaction like our noble friend did before.

[Zero Prime]

Aubin D'Ambrosio, Hellknight deserter AC: 15 | HIT POINTS: 20 | CURRENT 20 | HIT DIE: 2d10 | CURRENT: 2d10 INITIATIVE: +4 | PASSIVE PERCEPTION: 11 | PASSIVE INSIGHT: 13 ACTIVE EFFECTS: None. CONDITIONS: None. Aubin nodded at Crease's assessment, I'd probably want to smack that snarky smile off of your face too, he thought to himself. Still, the line up of common folk concerned him greatly. If things within the city had begun to deteriorate quickly enough that the citizenry was turning to deserters it was going to be an issue. If Vancaskerkin had been able to procure the loyalty of these folks by sharing resources taken from the Korvosan Guard, it would be bad enough, still, it was an issue that one needed to fully understand before resolving. His newly purchased jacket would do him no good, so he ducked a corner and swapped it out with the ash & soot covered jacket, that still reeked of the harbor's waters. He removed his tricorn hat, and ran a muddied hand through his hair, grabbing the reins of Bessy, he began pulling the gaunt hefer towards the line, looking to Loric and Shadi for back up. "So common citizens seeking to sell their last cow to afford provisions to carry us through a winter, put on the street by the fires and riots of last night?" He looked to the line, replenishing as quickly as it was diminished. "We'd best hurry lest we want to be here all day?"

[Bunny Commando]

Scipio Arquetius - HP: 17/17 - Conditions: None - Active Effects: None - Harrow Points: 1

---------------

"If their only guilt was to dislike the foreign Queen, I would happily leave them alone. I mean, I dislike the foreign Queen. But they deserted. Volshenyek had fewer weapons than when I was stationed there and even less guards. Korvosa is tearing itself apart and they're here, profiting from the chaos." Scipio spits these words in response to the doubts expressed by both Pogdan and Loric "Anyway, sure, let's have a look around. See what they're up to. We can always come back later, maybe during the night, and finish the job."