Gaedren gives you all one backwards glance with that smirk, as if he thinks he's been clever, before the guard who is holding the guide rope jerks on it. The end of the rope is bound tightly around the hateful old man's hateful hands and he moves forward in a sort of droopy crawl. An old man's shuffle.

All those lives destroyed. And he tuened out to be just an old man.

The other guard nods at you all. "We'll see he gets to the East Watch Post. Though it may be a while before someone can get to his case." He glances meaningfully down the pier and into the city.

You can see one...no two fires. Even from here you can hear the screams and the sound of steel clashing with steel. A voice drifts up, someone close by, shouting, "No Evard!" And then the crash and clink of a shattering plate glass window.

Sometime after you entered the fishery...it feels like it's been months...the word came down from the castle. King Eodred II had died. And his young queen Ileosa was supposed to have taken command.

Eodred wasn't exactly popular. But he was begrudgingly respected. Ileosa is even less popular. And there's no respecting her, begrudging or otherwise. The guard shakes his head. "Tha rumors are already spreadin'. That she killed 'im. As if any could know so soon." A sudden roar above drags all eyes skywards. A cluster of griffons drifts across the moon and heads north, further into the city. That means even the legendary Sable Company has been called out by the royal court.

"I hear they even called in tha Hell Knights..." the guard says conversationally. He spits on the pier. "Oh well. Best go start smackin' heads. They don't pay me ta look pretty."

Vaddis asks after the Greasy Bucket. The guard stops and thinks. Then frowns. "Tha Bucket? Ya. Not too far. Head north along tha docks 'til ya hit Osmer's Lane. Go west about two blocks. Though..." He looks north. "If ya got business there, I'd hurry. They said that neighborhoods one a' tha worse right now. Lots a' gangs on tha street an' they don' care much who they catch. Jus' wanna beat some heads in. And I heard someone's burnin' buildings 'round there."

Anything else anyone wanted to do here?

Toke hunched behind Selvin, attempting to avoid the guard's eye. His greasy hands rubbing over each other in nervousness. He whispered into Selvin's back, in an attempt to mute himself from the guard. "Perhaps we should return the cards to the old crone." He mumbled, "I'm sure we will be getting a pretty hefty reward for all our trouble."

"Yes, after we return the cards, we'll head to the Greasy Bucket. I agree." Vaddis starts toward the woman's house that owned the Harrow Deck.

---

---

"Her name is Zellara," Tarrov reminded Toke.  "But before we go, I'm not sure if we've searched The Fishery as completely as we could have.  Could there be any more information or anything else of value here?  I'm thinking particularly in that office upstairs."

---

---

Skirk hiccups and blinks.
He had just had thenmost lucid hallucination...
Shaking his head roughly he sighs

Clearly the stressful his revenge crusade had driven him to the brink of sanity.
Now the fiend would meet justice... provided the humans actually provided it... splitting his throat should have been the preferred option.

Human town, human rules he says softly to himself shrugging.

He'd been dreaming of his long lost brother Nimminek of late... he wondered if that was a  side effect of the stress.
He would have taught Gaedern a lesson no doubt!

Sighing again, the wizard wonders what the world would have been like if the rascal of a rat was still alive...
He had never approved of Skirk learning magic after all....

Shrugging, he follows along with the group. Deeply introspective.

Selvin, now without his Eidolon companion surrounding him, glared at Gaedren. "Good riddance."

To the guard he gave a nod. "Thanks for the info." He didn't like the turn of events in the city, but he wasn't sure he could really do anything about it. Or if he should.

He glanced at Tarrov. "You want we should go back in an' search some more?" He didn't sound as though he really wanted to, but he was willing if that was the decision.

"I'd like t'get the cards back t'the o....Zellara 'fore we go t'the Inn." Considering Toke had just been corrected about the name, he corrected himself.

We might find a clue as to the identity of Lamm's benefactor in there, Mr. Kindness, somewhere. Or something else. I need to go to the Greasy Bucket and find my sister first though. I'll think of returning the Harrow Deck and other things after she is safe." Heads toward the Greasy Bucket.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:42, Fri 11 Oct 2013.

A quick search of the fishery turns up little. Other than the cross dresser's knife masterwork dagger, a few odd empty flasks the alchemits can use nothing special about them, and a handful of coins 16 copper pieces there is naught except the dead and smell of urine. The office is fairly empty. No ledgers or papers are to be found.

Zellara's house is on the way, a detour of only a block. When you arrive, it looks...different. The windows are boarded up and the stoop is thick with dirt as if it has not been swept in over a year. Inside the table you sat around earlier is overturned and broken. The chairs are stacked against one wall. The food you ate before is gone and cobwebs hang thick in the corners. A rat looks up at you curiously and then scampers off. The house looks to have been unoccupied for some time.

"Hey!" A woman standing in the street is shouting at you. "Get on wit' ya. No lootin' here! All the good lootin' is up north. Lest that's what my Sedgewick says." She spits on the ground. "No good...if'n he gets knicked again, I'll cut him inta small pieces and feed 'em to tha fishes!" She scratches her arm and shuffles off, turningnher head as she goes. "'sides. No one's been livin' in there for over a year....since that fortune teller lady died..."

---

---

Tarrov looked up at the apartment in barely-disguised shock.  They had just visited the apartment a day ago, and it had been in a much-different condition then.  Had there been an illusion, or . . .?  Tarrov scratched his head, then swirled his fine cloak about him as he turned to address the unknown woman.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but we are no looters."  He bowed to her.  "We are associates of Zellara, and are deeply saddened to hear of her passing."  He coughed and looked at her searchingly.  "It was Zellara you were speaking of, was it not?"  The bard sighed.  "Do you know how it was that she died?"

---

---

This message was last edited by the player at 11:07, Sat 12 Oct 2013.

"D...Dead?" Skirk murmers to himself
He knew that the fortune teller could not be trusted!
"But then why did she wish us to recover her item? Was it even hers to begin with?"

He scratches his chin
"Perhaps she was an illusionist of some kind?"

He thinks back to thier conversation and gives a start
"By the Gods, she told us to be wary of a woman? Maybe she was telling us to be wary of herself?!"

Toke shrugged uncaring. It had felt like a lifetime since he had been here, and even then he was indisposed to say the least. Habitually he looked left and right, as if searching for any unknown observers, before speaking. "Regardless, she isn't here to accept her cards. Perhaps we should hold on to it until she chooses to appear again?" He nodded to himself slyly as he patted his thigh, "I'll keep the cards safe until then."

OOC: Hope nobody minds, I figured that being that nobody called the Cards, they were up for grabs (storage wise).

Selvin blinked a few times in surprise. He certainly hadn't expected that. As he stared at the closed-up shop, he murmured to himself. "Was she a ghost, contactin' us fer help in 'movin' on' by gettin' vengeance on Lamm? Or an elaborate trick? He let out a long breath, slightly shaky. "Hells. What a weird day."

He turned a baleful eye on Toke. "Always tryin' t'think 'bout yerself. Fine. So long as the cards stay in yer possession an' don't get sold."

"So,...odd, ..well, I must see to my sister!" and he heads toward the Greasy Bucket.

"Zellara got stabbed a year ago. Said she was goona get tha guy who killed her son." The woman nods at Vaddis as he passes. "Be careful out there sonny. Oh! An' if ya meet up with a guy called Sedgewick, gives 'im a good swift kick in tha arse and send 'im on home!"

---

As you march down the docks, the sounds of pandemonioum swell like sick music from an organ grinder's broken squeeze box. Screams. Glass breaking. The roar of a crowd no content with the level of it's debauch. Korvosa sounds to be coming apart at the seams.

Smoke floats above the buildings and you can now see some of them actually burning. The sounds of violence are at a fever pitch as you turn the corner onto Osmer's Lane. Or what was Osmer's Lane.

A crowd is thronging the street, seemingly with the intent of killing itself. It seems like each man is attacking his neighbor. Knives are out. Hands clutch broken wine bottles or bricks. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to it. The denizens of thisneighborhood just seem out to kill one another. A few Watch members are trying to stop it. But they are now just as much combatants as the rest.

The Bucket should be ahead two blocks. But you will either need to go through the mob to get there. Or perhaps try to skirt around the melee through the alleyways.

Or whatever else you can think of.

---

---

Tarrov rolled his eyes as he looks at the rioting people.  "The mob mentality.  It's a sickness of the species."  He grinned at his companions.  "Fortunately, in this case we can use that sickness to our advantage."

Tarrov pulled some copper wire from a pouch and began pointing at various places in the crowd and whispering to himself, all the while looking at the crowd to determine the next best place to point.

"Oh Gods, the Hellknights are coming, we have to go!"

"Holy shit the Hellknights are killing rioters!"

"Get out of my way, the Hellknights are just two blocks away!"

"For the Gods' sake let's go we have to get away!"

OOC:  Tarrov repeatedly casts the spell Message at two people at a time in the crowd in an attempt to get them to believe that the Hellknights are coming to violently clear the area from the direction where the party is located.

Depending on the results, he will then cast Ghost Sound to create the sound of booted feet marching toward the area and then Silent Image to make a band of Hellknights appear to be approaching the rioters..

---

---

This message was last edited by the player at 07:19, Sun 13 Oct 2013.

Vaddis looks at Tarrov and smiles, then back at the crowd, with a wild look in his eyes he starts yelling "the Hellknights are coming! They're killing everyone in their path! The Hellknights are coming, run for your life!" helping spread the panic to clear the street.

Toke was rather glad he was not under the influence of his "panacea", because he was sure that he would be incredibly uncomfortable in all of this chaos. He looked as his group started to rile the crowd even more, shaking his head in uncertainty. He understood what they were trying to do, but wasn't it safer to just slip through the crowd than risk potential backfire? Still although he wasn't the best actor he might as well trust their judgement. Following Vaddis' lead, he widened his eyes and increased his breathing in an attempt to transfigure his wariness into what appeared to be fear.

Although he didn't know it, Skirk was agreeing with Toke when it came to deal with the situation. Stealth would have been his prefered method in this case, but Tarrov had committed them to this plan, so he would help out.

He subtly began casting his own illusions to augment Tarrov's

OOC:
Also cast ghost sound, same effect

Selvin's eyebrows rose up as Tarrov began trying to sow seeds of panic and fear in the crowd. He felt naked without his companion surrounding him, but being a fiery blue tiger tended to attract notice.

It doesn't happen quickly. At first only a head or two turns. Most continue in their mad Kill Kill Kill binge, like thirsty men come through the desert who have suddenly found a river. But slowly the pebble that has been tossed begins to cause ripples.

"Hellknights?"

"Ah damn! I owe one a' them some money!"

"Maybe they won' come this way..."

"Tell ya what...you stick around an' tell me later whether they show or not. Me? I'm gone."

"...4...5...6...7...nope. Not enough. Hey! Check that bleedin' guy's pockets for any loose coins!"

"Welp...guess I better get home. My wife'll be waitin' ta brain me with tha bean pot..."

"Seriously man. Just lend me two silver..."

The crowd begins to disperse.

You step over a few bodies. Most of them groan. A couple do not. To your left, the roof of one of the buildings has begun to burn. A fire the next street over is following the breeze and coming this way.

Your group heads down Osmer's Lane quickly. Most of the buildings are disgorging their occupants. Yells about the fire heading this way are drifting through them.

You come around one group of stragglers and see signage up ahead. The sign depicts a man on all fours vomiting into a bucket. Written below are the words GREZE BUKET

You guys get to go to all the nice places.

The building is an old brownstone obviously converted into a bar. It sits next to last on the row. You spy an alley that runs behind it. In front, lounging on the stoop are three toughs. Thry eyeball your gang but make no moves. From inside the building you hear more yelling. Someone with a deep basso voice is calling out, "Hurry up ya sons a' bitches! We're outta here 'fore tha flames come!"

Selvin smirked at Tarrov's distract and disperse technique being successful. "Good job." He trailed along with the others as they made their way to the building. He gestured to Vaddis. "Your sister, so after you'."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:39, Wed 16 Oct 2013.

Vaddis heads for the door of the Greasy Bucket, "Marisha! Are you here?!! Marisha!!" and he heads up to go in.

Toke followed Selvin, watching Vaddis storm into the Greasy Bucket. "Not much for the clandestine, is he?" He mumbled bitterly to himself. It didn't seem like they were in the best part of town, and he didn't want to start a meaningless fight over a big mouth. His finger outlined the rim of his pocket as he nervously watched for the Bucket's response.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:57, Wed 16 Oct 2013.

---

---

"Thank you, Selvin," Tarrov gave his companion a performer's bow.  The bard was greatly pleased to see his plan work; he was less pleased to see The Greasy Bucket.  "What a sty," he said with a look of distaste.  "Do people really patronize this place on PURPOSE?  I think I'd rather drink in a midden."

He put his hand on his whip as Vaddis blithely charged up the steps among the three toughs that looked to be guarding the place.  "He's very direct, you'll find," Tarrov grinned at Toke.  "On the positive side, he draws a lot of attention, which gives other, more-unobtrusive people," he gave Toke a meaningful look, "a fine chance to practice their tradecraft.  You know what I mean?"

Tarrov shrugged.  "Plus, if we do encounter overwhelming odds, he'll die first."  The bard nodded.  "Giving us a golden opportunity to run for our lives like scared little girls."

---

---

This message was last edited by the player at 06:48, Wed 16 Oct 2013.

Skirk gingerly sniff the air as he gets close to the bucket and pulls a grinning expression on his ratty  features.
Doesn't seem so bad to me...
He says mostly to himself shrugging as he follows the others in.
Seems pretty spacy even

The three toughs move quickly to block Vaddis. "No Mairsha's in there bud."

Those still in the street see figures through the upstairs windows. A few women peer out at you.

<Private to Skirk: One of them is a young girl who looks a lot like Vaddis>

The females are pushed aside and two men, one at each window, take up station with crossbows. Neither is aiming as of yet.

"Stand aside dog, or taste my steel! Marisha!! I'm coming!"

21:58, Today: Vaddis Sonaden rolled 8 using 1d20. Initiative.

Selvin took notice of what was happening. He wasn't "armored" up either. And Vaddis was making things worse. "Vaddis! Cut it out! This ain't the way t'handle this!"

Indeed Skirk agrees. Allow us to attempt more subtle methods of entry first? he quietly asks the human with a query.

OOC - too late for that, he is up on the porch.

Vaddis moves to enter the Greasy Bucket

(the others can try another entrance if they wish, Vaddis isn't even listening to them, he is totally focused on rescuing his sister from slavery)

The bggest tough moves to block Vaddis. "Hey buddy. Lighten up. Tha ladies'll be back ready for business tomorrow, right?"

"He ain't talkin' about one a' tha skanks," says another of the toughs. This smarter one looks at Vaddis . "You talkin' about a young kid? Girl? She works tha kitchens. What's she to you?"

Toke and Skirk, you notice the third tough is making some kind of signal. You would guess the gang has guards posted across the street. Maybe in an alleyway. You don't think it's a sign for attack. Just a heads up.

Selvin,  the crossbow men are looking down at Vaddis mostly, but seem to be distracted by what's going on upstairs. You can make out what looks like signs of packing. The ladies seem to be getting ready to ship out with the gang.

Tarrov, from down the street the way you came you can hear more shouting. The fire it seems is spreading from rooftop to rooftop. The Bucket is on the opposite side of the street from the fire you saw earlier. But it still may be worth keeping in mind.

Vaddis, if you're going to take a swing, roll the attack. Everyone else, roll init if you're going to try anything, just so I can judge what happens first. We are not in combat yet.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:42, Fri 18 Oct 2013.

"She is my sister! Release her at once and I'll forget all else! Stand aside, ...now!"

Selvin turned as if to whisper to Skirk, Tarrov and Toke....and cast Mage Armor on himself. He didn't like where this was going. He didn't want to see anyone a slave, but Vaddis was going to get himself or them all killed.

---

---

Tarrov hopes that the men will simply turn over the girl, but readies a Sleep spell all the same, eyeing the surroundings to determine where it might be put to best use.

---

---

Toke looked through his pockets and picked out a special "sweet" he had prepared earlier. He placed it on his tongue and closed his mouth into a smile as it dissolved. The smile quickly faded when he remembered the situation he was currently in. His other hand casually went into his pants' pocket and gripped the handle of his new knife.

The smarter tough seems unimpressed. He shrugs. "Well..she's ours now. But Krieg is tha guy who'd make that call. Hold on and I'll get 'im."

(Allowing him to go get this Krieg?)

"As the fire is coming this way fast, I'd suggest you leave while you can, and I'll get him." Vaddis say menacingly.

08:27, Today: Vaddis Sonaden rolled 22 using 1d20+2. Intimidate.

Selvin lets out a sigh as Vaddis fails to see any sort of reason and continues to try and bull his way in. He waits, but gets ready for combat that is likely coming.

---

---

Tarrov looks menacingly at the tough to whom Vaddis was speaking, supporting his attempt to scare the man into submission.

19:26, Today: Tarrov Garrick rolled 13 using 1d20+11. Intimidate. (Aid Another)

---

---

OOC - that makes it 24! to intimidate!! ;)

The second tough shrugs and waves at the door. "Fine. Introduce yourself then..."

The first tough licks his lips and steps hastily back, clearing the door.

Yeah, a 24 against a 3. My dice love you guys. Anyone not going in with Vaddis?
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:58, Sun 20 Oct 2013.

Vaddis enters the Greasy Bucket, he pauses and looks the place over.

00:10, Today: Vaddis Sonaden rolled 7 using 1d20. Perception.

Toke let out a sigh that was a mixture of both relief and aggravation. He was pretty sure he had jumped the gun with the "sweet", and now it was no longer available when it would be most needed. As he followed Vaddis inside, he made a mental note not to be so paranoid next time.

Selvin echoed Toke's sigh, but his was more relief that Vaddis hadn't gotten himself killed, and possibly the rest of them right along with him. He cautiously followed Vaddis inside.

With a shrug, Skirk takes up the rear and enters,  eyeing the thug menacingly aa he does so.
Not his usual approach but it was too late now...
He keeps his eyes open for avenus of escape should they be needed

---

---

Tarrov gives the intimidated tough a nasty smile and moves in behind the others, keeping his eye out for any tricks or traps.

OOC:
15:48, Today: Tarrov Garrick rolled 4 using 1d20+3. Perception Check (Tarrov).

Glad I'm getting these subpar rolls out of the way now, I guess, lol.

---

---

The common room of the Bucket is too subpar to be common. Floorboards are splintery. Tables are so scarred with carved graffitti they resemble masses of dried paper pulp. A few lanterns light the room but even these are beng taken down from the wall brackets. Men covered in varying degees of filth are boxing up mugs and bottles and taxidermy rats into crates. A large hairy muntain of gutter filth stands in the middle of the room shouting orders out of his mostly toothless maw. "DO I GOTTA PICK YA UP BY THA ANKLES AND BEAT YOUR HEADS AGAINST YOUR ASSES! LET'S MOVE IT PEOPLE!"

He makes hs point by smashing the battle axe he's holding into the top of a table before stopping and looking at you all. "Who tha hell're you?"

---

---

Tarrov strolled past Vaddis straight towards the man, looking him in the eye as his hand caressed his scorpion whip.  "We are lieutenants for Mister Kindness.  Perhaps you've heard of him?  Krieg, aren't you?"  Tarrov's lips curled in a sneer.  "You've made a big mistake, Krieg.  You have the sister one of," Tarrov nodded at Vaddis, "Mister Kindness' less-understanding associates."

"Now," Tarrov gave Krieg an insincere smile, "Mister Kindness is sure this is all some sort of misunderstanding, and that you will be turning the girl over to us immediately.  Trust me, he isn't happy that he had to send us out after you.  As you may know, he prefers to remain more . . . in the background."  Tarrov studied his fingernails as if they were the most interesting things in the world.  "So your prompt compliance with his wishes would probably be a very good thing for you."

Tarrov looked up with an expression of shock.  "What?  Still here?  Marisha is her name.  Go . . . get . . . her."

OOC:

22:13, Today: Tarrov Garrick rolled 27 using 1d20+11. Intimidate .
22:21, Today: Tarrov Garrick rolled 31 using 1d20+11. Bluff.
22:12, Today: Tarrov Garrick rolled 20 using 1d20+7. Knowledge (Local) (to use anything he knows about Krieg or Mister Kindness to improve his Intimidate and Bluff scores).

Boo-ya.  Fear the bard.  :)

---

---

This message was lightly edited by the player at 05:25, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

Hmm...interesting tactic...

Kreig cocks an eyebrow. "Who're you? Mr. Fop?"

Outside there are more screams and a crowd of sooty commoners presses past the Bucket doors. Kreig snarls and spits. "I don' have time for this! Yake tha brat! An' you can tell Mr. K I'l be deductin' her cost from tha next round a' tribute!"

He waves at you in a dismissive way and goes back to roaring at his men. No one pays you much attention after that.

You find the upstairs in an uproar. Whores are trying to grab their best dresses and favored gaudies and stuff them into trunks. The crossbow men you saw eye you all warily but say nothing as you barge from room to room. And then you see her. Marisha is grabbing feathered boas off the floor as four different whores scream directions at her. She looks up and stands stock still. "V-V-Vaddis..."

You can see smoke begining to billow down the street through the windows outside.

Selvin chuckled as he followed along and stayed out of "helping" or "hindering" things along. He smiled at the whores with his best winning smile. Maybe they'd remember him fondly if he came to visit them. Then he thought of where they were plying their trade and his smile faltered in a bit of disgust. Greasy Bucket indeed.

He glanced outside and then turned back to his companions. "I don't mean to be an alarmist but I think we should try and hurry. Either that or give me a minute to summon up my friend."

Skirk nods his her approvingly at Tarrovs cunning.
His opinion of the man had been good from the previous attack, now it had just jumped leaps and bounds.

Clearly a powerful ally to have.

"Come Marisha! Hurry! The fire is almost upon us!" Vaddis takes her by the hand and pulls her along with them! "Let us be gone before it is too late!!" and he nods his thanks to Tarrov.

Toke nodded in agreement, casting a worried glance at the encroaching smoke outside. He pondered their choice to pose as Mr. Kindness' associates, hoping that the decision wouldn't come back to bite them later.

Who knows, He thought to himself, If we're lucky, Mr. Kindness is just an alias of a long dead man, kept alive through stories and tales.

The gang is moving out as you reach the landing, merging with the mass of people who are running down the street outside. You all dive in and swim along with the human current.

Behind you the buildings are indeed burning. The old tenaments sag and finally collapse under the weight of the destruction the flames bring. You can keep each other mostly in view but there is little time to stop and catch a breath. The crowd has become a stampede.

Osmer's Lane empties out onto a square where it connects with a main street. The crowd scatters, each heading some random direction they hope will take them farthest from the fires.

A group of Watchmen are near the intersecrion. They are grouped around two men in fine robes. One of the guards is yelling, "Outta tha way! We got wizards ta put out tha fire!" But the crowd, intent of running, pay them no mind.

As you come near the end of the avenue, you see something about the sixe of a man's fist and bright red fall towards the ground. At first you wonder if it might be an ember. But the fires haven't progessed this far yet. Then a woman screams.

She struggles around, grabbing at her hair. On her back is a small, red man. No longer than a forearm, he has skin the color of fire and sharp fags that jut out from his mouth. He has planted his feet into her back and grabbed her hair, leaning back so he is yanking at her head.

You all have been in the city long enough to know what it is. An imp. The students at the Academe are infamous for conjuring rhen and then letting them loose, like kittens that are kept until they become a nuisance. You see a few others come leaping down the sides of buildings, diving into the refugees with snarls and howls of glee.

With a hiss, Skirk jumps into action, chanting a spell with a thrusting power.
Completing the incantation he grows in size. His usual diminutive size muchnlarger, almost as arenas a human.
This was the same trick he had used before.

Quickly, get behind us! he booms at those running from the imps and fire.

We have to put a stop to these rampaging demons! he shouts to his companions.



Today: Skirk rolled 15 using 1d20+1. Initiative.
Casts enlarge person on self.

Vaddis, holding his sister's hand, says "Stay close Marisha, I will get you out of this safely!" he draws his blade with his free hand.


09:41, Today: Vaddis Sonaden rolled 6 using 1d20. Initiative.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:45, Wed 23 Oct 2013.

Selvin sighed as once again it started to look like combat was imminent and he didn't have his ally with him. He frowned and drew on his connection to the outer planes and his eidolon, concentrating his will to summon forth an ally.

OOC: Using one of his Summon Monster Spelllike Abilities to summon a Celestial Eagle on his action.
07:58, Today: Selvin Larst rolled 13 using 1d20+1. Initiative.

Toke shared Selvin's sigh, as he had wanted to avoid trouble. He fumbled through his pocket for the Knife he had picked up earlier. Though he doubted its usefulness, he hoped it provided enough of a threat to deter the would-be attackers. He should have just stayed with his gang. His revenge had gotten him nothing but trouble.


OOC: Toke rolled 10 using 1d20+2. Initiative.
Toke drew his dagger.

"Stay close together everyone! We can protect each other better and we'll be less likely to be separated. Also, we're less likely to be attacked if we're a tougher target."

---

---

Tarrov sighed.  Really?  Imps?  This had been a long day already, and it wasn't even half over.  He grabbed his whip and got ready to help out wherever it was needed.

20:27, Today: Tarrov Garrick rolled 6 using 1d20+1. Initiative.

---

---

I'm sensing weariness. But don't worry. Help is on the way. Sorta...

As a brightly plumed eagle materalizes on Selvin's  fist, and the rest of you draw together, a bolt of eldritch energy zooms over your heads and into the imp pulling on the woman's hair. One of the wizards lowers his hand and frowns. "Damn imps are worse 'n roaches."

You overhear the other wizard say as he shrugs, "Don' worry. Tha dragons'll be along soon enough."

You loose the thread of the conversation as one of the imps lands and lunges forward straight at Toke. The lanky alchemist steps to his left and the imp sails past straight into one of the swords of the Watchmen. Soomn the imps are surging forward towards the wizards, almost forgetting you entirely.

But not all of them are so focused. You see two imps run by, a small boy slung between them like a felled boar. They trot towards the corner, seeking to escape with their snack.

"Stop those two with the child before they kill him!" Vaddis yells with concern in his voice, while holding tightly to his sister's hand.

Toke shrugged, giving Vaddis a helpless glance. He had only just recently acquired a melee weapon and his only ranged weapon would damage the girl in the process. "Guess I'm hanging back then...." he said quietly, trying to hide the relief from his voice.


OOC: Sorry, trying to ham up the whole selfish coward thing, but he's not exactly in the best position at the moment.

Toke holds his action until further notice.

I'm assuming no takers on the Imps. OK. Let's move things along.

The press of the crowd behind you forces your party forward. You all move further into the square, regrouping near a statue of some founding father or similar luminary of Korvosa's long dead past glory.

As you look back, an Imp starts screaming. A small winged lizard, no bigger than Skirk's forearm has fastened it's claws into the fiend's back. Above, a phalanx of similar small dragons flies down from the sky and begins to engage the demons. Or is it devils. Whichever.

Marisha stares in wonder at the faerie dragons who have swooped in. With wide eyes, she looks up at Vaddis. "Can I have one as a pet? I promise ta walk 'im every day!"

The faerie dragons are long time residents of the city. They are useful in that they hunt the imps, keeping their population under control. But they are notoriously not interested in becoming pets.

The wizards move the guards on quickly. You catch your breath by the statue. Around you the City echoes still with shouts and sounds of vandalism and looting.

"Oy! Oy!" After a moment you all determine the shout is being directed at your group.

A Watch officer comes sauntering down the mainstreet. His gait is woobly. His uniform is covered in what you hope is mud. His cheeks are covered in a thick stubble and even from a distance you can tell his eyes are bloodshot. He waves at you and then holds up a pointer finger, indicating he needs a minute. He lifts a wine bottle to his mouth and guzzles the contents down in three, deep draughts. He tosses the bottle aside and winces as it smashes on the cobblestones. He looks back at you, peers, and then recollects he had hailed you. "Oy! You ain't looters are ya?"

---

---

Tarrov looked slightly outraged.  "Looters!?!  Why, no sir!  I am Tarrov Garrick, journeyman member of the performer's guild and prized student to the lamentably late Mikael Burwich!  Perhaps you've seen my show at the Bard’s End?!?"  Tarrov nonchalantly waved his hand at his companions.  "And this is my entourage."  He glared at the watchman.  "So no, looters we are definitely not."

---

---

"No we are not looters. Mr Garrick is correct. Is there a safe place left in the city for decent folk? Somewhere I can keep my sister safe until the current events pass so that I can take her home to our mother."

OOC: Sorry, have had a busy last few days or I would have had the eagle attack the imps.

Selvin saw that the wizards and faerie dragons seemed to have things well in hand, so kept the eagle with them until it disappeared a few minutes later. When the watchman called them out, he shook his head slightly and smiled. He chimed in as well, "We're jus' escortin' this man and her sister."

The Watch Officer raises an eyebrow. "Bard's End? Isn' that that theater where them dancers take off their clothes..." He wipes his mouth and then looks down at his palm. He wipes his palm on his tunic. "Not my thing. My thing's looters. Looters. Lootin' looters. Lootlootlootloot looters." He smacks his lips. "Looters."

If there was any doubt left in your mind as to his state of sobriety, as he steps closer, you can whiff the fine perfume of Basilisk's Kiss. A fine little bottle you can buy two for a copper.

He peers at Tarrov, then at Skirk. He continues down the line, gazing at each of you in turn until he crouchs down so he can look at Marisha. "Aren't you a tad young ta be lootin'?"

Marisha looks up at Vaddis. "He smells like Grandpa."

Glad the th i wish threat was under control, Skirk gives a sigh of relief.

Upon realizing the watchman was accusing them of looting, Skirk bristled.
Looters? he asks indignantly
Does it look like we are looting anything? By the gods, we were comeing to help with the impish menace and this is he thanks we get?

Vaddis straightens out his surcoat to promptly display the symbol of Iomedae to the guard, letting him know he is a paladin.

"Yes Marisha, it seems this guard is drunk on duty, your name, rank, and who is your superior officer?! You will be broken for your dereliction of duty! Possibly hanged for desertion!"

Selvin winced as Vaddis kicked into overdrive on the guard. He had hoped Vaddis might let this pass, but apparently he was destined to be disappointed. "Oh boy."

"Attention guard! You're an embarrassment to your uniform man! The only way I think you could possibly make amends would be for you to escort us to the Temple of Iomedae, and while there, you were to get on your knees and beg The Inheritor for redemption to save your soul!"

10:44, Today: Vaddis Sonaden rolled 19 using 1d20+2. Intimidate.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:45, Mon 28 Oct 2013.

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Tarrov looked thoughtful; no small task in the commotion.  "Gentlemen, this guardsman is clearly inebriated, which is affecting his ability to perform his duty.  Further," Tarrov gave the guardsman a meaningful look, "if he was caught out here in this state, in an emergency, by someone important, he would almost certainly lose his position, if not be imprisoned outright."

Tarrov looked around at his companions.  "I think such a guardsman might owe us a favor if we were to haul him to the nearest guard outpost and allow him to sleep off the effects of his over-exuberant alcohol consumption."  He gestured down the various streets.  "There is a guard outpost every four blocks or so.  Let's assist this debilitated guardsman to one of them.  They will clean him up for us, and the guard will owe us."  He raised an eyebrow.  "Probably not a bad thing, given how events have progressed to this point."

---

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"Imps?" The Watch Officer blinks at Skirk. "You can see 'em too? Oh thank whatever's holy. I thought I was hallud...hellouc...heluzing...seein' stuff that wasn't there."

He stares blearily at Vaddis. "Second Lieutenant Grau Sometin' or other. Reportin' for duty!" He clicks his heels together and salutes with one hand. Or tries to. One heel trips the other heel and he stumbles. His thumb gouges into his eye and he blnks furiously. "Ow." He glances around. "Them imps is sneaky bastards..."

Not counting the direction you came from, there are three exits onto the square. North will take you towards the shore. West will swing you towards the Castle. Southwest angles towards Zellara's home and Vaddis' mother's house.

"Sergeant, we need to take the Southwest route from the square. Please accompany us so that you can stop looting down that way."

---

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Tarrov nodded at Vaddis.  "Southwest it is; let's get Marisha home as soon as we can."

He gently laid a hand on the guardsman's elbow and began to steer him in the correct direction.  "Come on, Lieutenant, you're in no condition to be out here and you could get in a lot of trouble if someone finds you like this.  Come with us and we'll get you to the nearest guardhouse southwest of here; there should be one in a few blocks.  They'll help get you back on your feet and keep you out of trouble."

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This message was last edited by the player at 05:48, Wed 30 Oct 2013.

Selvin tried to hold in the chuckle he felt coming on at the guardsman's silly behavior. He turned away and rolled his eyes at Toke at it all. He shook his head but shrugged. They had gone through all the trouble to 'rescue' the girl, they might as well see her home.

Skirk would never understand some humans....

He shrugs, moving with the others to see Vaddis' brood member home

"Saldado!" The hulking officer of the Watch Post almost coughs forth the name like a curse. Grau stares at his feet. "We need every man out on tha streets in this mess. And look at you. Ya sot. No wonder Orisini kicked ya out on yer ass..."

Grau flinches a little but says nothing. The officer spits on the ground. "Well. Get your ass back in tha barracks. Ya got until third bell ta sleep ot off. Go!" The officer watches Grau stumble away and looks back at your group. "It's appreciated," he says. "Grau owes ya one. I'll make sure he remembers. And we owe ya one. Now's a bad time for some fool ta be erodin' public faith in tha Watch-"

"THA QUEEN'S A SLAG!"

The Officer sighs. "Case in point," he mumbles.

Behind you, two Watchmen are dragging a citizen towards the cells. The perp is an older man. Dirty and disheveled, the old man is covered in bruises and small cuts. He twitches in the Watchmen's arms and stares at the ceiling with wide eyes, as if reading something written there. A thick glob of foam sprays from his lips as he continues his rant. "SHE WAN'S US DEAD! SHE WANTS US BURNED DOWN TO THA GROUND! SHE'LL BE THA DEATH A'US! SHE'LL BE DEATH A' US ALL!"

The officer shakes his head. "I'll have ta beg your pardon. Things ta do."

I'm going to move us along

The City seems to twist and writhe as you walk the rest of the way to Vaddis'  mother's home. You pass by no less than three scenes of looting, two gang brawls, and man running naked through the streets holding a peacock by the neck. An old woman wails, cluching the body of her son, killed during some random brawl. By the time you draw near the house, things seem to be quieting down some. Marisha stirs in her brother's arms as you walk over the threshold.

Momma Vaddis is, to say the least, relieved. She clutches her daughter to her breast and kisses all of you on the forehead. Even   Skirk, who takes it good naturedly. She will not hear of not feeding you, and soon you are all seated in whatever chair she can find, eatting freshly made biscuts and warm sausage soup. If nothing else, Momma Vaddis  can cook.

She makes you all some kind of bedding. The ache of the day makes even a blanket on the floor seem inviting. You awake to the smell of fresh bread baking, refreshed Healed, spells ready, etc.

Skirk tears off a piece of cheese from the wheel Momma provided and pops it into his mouth. "So only the matter of this brooch to resolve then?"

Toke nodded solemnly. The other day he had been unnaturally quiet and out of sight. The presence of the guard often had a quieting effect on those of his ignominious profession. "Out of sight, out of mind." He had always said, and even a drunken guard could have heard of Toke and his dealings.

"If we choose to return it anyway..." He said, sloppily gorging himself on the hearty meal. He swallowed loudly and pointed at the rat with a piece of bread."I'm sure there's a market for something as shiny as that. Plus, it may get us closer to you know who."

---

---

Tarrov raised an eyebrow at Toke as he slathered the hot, fresh-baked bread with butter.  "Surely we should take it back to the palace?  I can think of worst things than having the Queen owe us a favor."  He took a bite of the bread and sighed happily.  It was delicious.

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This message was last edited by the player at 05:19, Thu 31 Oct 2013.

"Ummm, this is good momma, very good! I missed home cooking!" he looks at the others then, "A favor from the queen, will she give us a favor, or lock us up so she can forget us? I don't trust her. As for selling it, that would be unsafe for sure if word got back to her and she decided to blame us for stealing it in the first place. Taking it to the palace is the right thing to do, let's just do it safely. Was a reward ever posted for it's return?"

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Tarrov jerked his head toward the door.  "Did you see what was happening out there?  I think the Queen needs all the allies she can get right about now.  I don't see her tossing us in the dungeons for returning one of her valued keepsakes."  He started buttering another slice of bread.  "In fact, this may be an opportunity for us to get in on the ground floor of her reign, as it were.  She needs friends in her time of need.  If we prove to be such friends, who knows what influence it might gain us once she consolidates her power?"

The bard raised his eyebrows at the group and took a bite of the newly-buttered bread.  "This is absolutely sinful, Mrs. S," the bard said, his mouth shamefully full.  "Thanks again for hosting us."

---

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Toke mused over the conversation. On one hand, he, like Vaddis, did not trust the crown at all. On the other hand, the crown did seem to be struggling at the moment and the thought of gaining potential political power was tantalizing. He licked his fingers before letting out a sour belch. Without bothering to excuse himself, he wiped his mouth on a sleeve before speaking. "Shall we put it to a vote then?" He asked, his seedy eyes surveying his associates.

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Tarrov finished his slice of bread.  "You know what my vote is."  He shrugged and wiped his mouth with a napkin.  "Take it back to the palace, get rewarded, and attempt to insinuate ourselves into the confidences of the most powerful personage in the city while she's still struggling with her newfound reins of royalty."

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This message was last edited by the player at 07:01, Fri 01 Nov 2013.

"Tch," Momma tchs as she eyes her son. "People just sayn' thongs abut tha Queen cos she's young and pretty. Things go bad, people wanna blame someone. Do you know the Queen's a bad person? Or is that just what you heard? I didn't raise you to judge a person by what other people say about them."

"There is that point. But more importantly...may I see brooch?" Skirk wipes his paws on a napkin and holds the brooch up to the light. "Yes. At most I think we can get about a thousand coins for it. But if I recall correctly, there s a reward out for it. Two thousand coins. Or thereabouts. We get more for the baubble by tuning it in. Favor or no favor, that is reason enough for me. I say we turn it in."

"Okay, we give the queen the benefit of the doubt then and turn it in right after breakfast!" he says through a mouthful of food. "By Iomedae I forgot how good you cooked mamma. Oh, keep Marisha inside the house and stay in yourself if you can until it's safe outside."

The Castle, unsuprisongly, is locked down. It takes a half hour to convince the guard you do have business here. The sight of the brooch gets things moving more quickly. You are lead up one of the great stone stairways....the Castle is built atop someold ziggaraut...and stopped before one of the great stone doors. The officer on duty holds up a hand. "You'll need to leave your weapons here."

Vaddis nods to the guard and grudgingly hands over his weapons to him as directed.

Selvin barely hesitated. His main weapon, after all, wasn't something he carried. He left his weapons with a shrug.

Toke shrugged and handed over the cheese knife he picked up earlier. "Easy come, easy go."

The officer looks at Tarrov as Skirk  hands over his blades.  "Worry not," says a voice behind you. A woman is approaching. She wears a light mail and carries a finely crafted blade on her hip. Long black hair sways around her shoulders and her eyes are as grey as smoke. The ensignia of a major is stitched on her shoulder.

"All your weapons will be returned to you after your audience. I hear you have found our queen's brooch. I am Major Sabina Merrin. I am head of our Lady's security. May I ask how you happened to come across the brooch?"

"We took it from a man that made his living kidnapping, robbing and killing people. We turned him over to the authorities yesterday."

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Tarrov agreeably handed the officer his whip and dagger as he looked over at the newly-arrived officer.  "Well met, Major Merrin.  I am Tarrov Garrick, former pupil to the great Mikael Burwich.  The man who possessed Her Majesty's brooch killed Master Burwich and was running both a narcotics and child-abduction ring down by the docks."

Tarrov nodded at Vaddis.  "As my companion says, that man is now in the custody of Her Majesty's guard.  We found this brooch in his possession, and having heard that Her Majesty was missing such an item, we came as directly as we could to return it to her, given the unfortunate and unjustified civil unrest currently wracking our city."

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This message was last edited by the player at 08:43, Mon 11 Nov 2013.

Sabina studies you all for a moment and then nods slightly. She looks at the guard officer. "Give them back their weapons. I will escort them to see the Queen."

The officer looks a bit surprised, but doesn't maintain eye contact with Sabina for long. Instead, he hands you back your things.

Sabina waits for you all to reequip yourselves and then nods to you. "This way please."

She leads you up into the higher levels of the castle. At last you stop before a pair of large, grand doors. Sabina nods to the guards standing before it and then looks back at you. "Our Lady has had a terrible blow with the death of her husband. Please be attentive to her need."

She does not wait for an answer. Only turns and waves for the guards to open the door.

The Throne Room is filled with echoes. They take up the places you would expect the usual throng of statesmen and nobles would stand. As it is, there are only a few military advisors standing near the steps up to the throne.

The Crimson Throne of Korvosa is a bit less ostentatious than you would think. It is made of fine mahagony and thickly cushioned with blood red pillows. It almost looks comfy.

The Queen perches on it dressed in the darkest shades of black. Even the stiff veil covering her face can not hide her delicate features or the firey hue of her hair. Her green eyes, deep as the tops of the oldest forest, gaze down at you. She smiles. "Are you the heros who return to me my brooch?" She sounds both sad and cheerful at the same time. "I would that the circumstances of this event were better timed. But perhaps they are timed just right. Our City has need of good news right now. And what better news than the tale of your bravery?" She gestures to Sabina, who takes the brooch from you. The Queen then turns back to you. "Our City has entered a dark time my friends. And it...as well as I...have need of brave heros. There is so much that needs to be done to secure the safety of the citizenry. You will be rewarded for the brooch of course. But could I implore you to perhaps render more service to Our City?"

She nods as Sabina brings forward a small chest. It is filled with coins. Quite a bit more than the promised reward for the brooch. The Queen smiles at you all again. "All who stand with the city in it's time of need will have my gratitude."

Note: She is not using the Royal We when she says Our City. But the Yours and Mine kind of Ours.

"Watch Commander Cressidia has need of capable hands to assist her. Please. I beg you on behalf of the Citizens. Aid us in our hour of need."

Vaddis bows deeply to the queen, obviously taken in by her regal demeanor and great beauty, "Thank you your Majesty, I will serve you gladly."

Selvin looks slightly uneasy. He gives a bow when they approach the Queen. The Queen is beautiful and after taking one long look at her, he drops his eyes to the floor for the remainder of their visit.  He doesn't want to be thought of as improper...well, more than he actually is. He hesitates and then speaks up after the only-answer-obvious Vaddis speaks up.

"I am not a hero, Majesty. But...if I can help, I will. This is my home, after all."

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Tarrov put his hand to his chest as he knelt.  "If there is anything I can do to help you or the city, Your Majesty, you have but to ask."  He looked up at the Queen.  "I, for one, am at your service."

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This message was last edited by the player at 08:42, Mon 11 Nov 2013.

Toke's steely eyes never left the Queen, even through his attempted gesture that one may construe as a bow; they stared at the Queen's profile as a tirade of unsavory thoughts ran through his mind. Only when the chest was brought out was his attention diverted. He looked longingly into the chest and thought about his chances of actually receiving the treasure. He would be the most likely one to survive, as everyone else seemed as inclined to draw attention to themselves as he was to hang back. Not to mention other rewards...

"Aye." He said simply, fearful that his greed would show through his tone.

The Queen claps her hands together and clasps them over her heart. Like a little girl who has been given a wished for gift on her birthday. "My friends! You give me such comfort and hope. Know that your words and actions have given me some solace in this dark time.

"For now, please go with Sabina. She will see you to Field Marshall Cressida Kroft, the Head of the Watch. There is much we need to do to rebuild our glorious home. Now, if you will forgive me, I need to rest. The day has left a strain on me and I need some time to mourn."

Sabina steps up and, after bowing to her Queen, motions for you all to follow. She leads you silently out of the throne room. After the doors are shut, she looks back at you all, a  smile pn her lips. "You have given Queen Ileosa some comfort. For that you have my eternal gratitude."

---

"So you're the calvary huh?" Field Marshall Cressida Kroft's eyes are as grey as the hair in her head. She looks each of you over as you sit around a round table in the heart of the Watch Command's citadel. Sabina left you with the Watch guard and bid you good fortune before heading back to the castle. It didn't take long before Cressida met you and whisked you into an inner conference room. She is a tough looking no nonsense kind of woman. Her uniform is crisp at the corners and her boots still have a shine. She sets a decanter of wine out for you to help yourselves from and settles back onto her own chair. "That's good," she continues, "cos we need a calvary charge about now. You've been out on the streets. You know better than I do how things are. My men are stretched pretty thin right now, keeping what little order we have. It leaves me pretty shorthanded where it comes ta dealing with the...special cases. And we got plenty of those right now. So here's the deal. I want to hire you on as agents of the Watch. To help with those special cases. It doesn't need to be said that you'll be well compnsated for your trouble."

She pours herself some wine and takes a sip before continuing. "The most pressing need I have right now needs some delicate handling. One of my officers has gone rouge." She scowls at the wall, as if it were the man then shakes her head. "When everything went down last night, some of my men deserted their post. Most did so to see to their families. I can at least understand that. But one of my officers deserted for other reasons. Verik Vancaskerkin. He did worse than just deserting his post. He's talked some of his subordinates into joining him. Claims Queen Ileosa is going to bring the City to ruin. Whether she does or not isn't the point. Things are bad enough without him pulling more of our manpower away from their duties with secessionist garbage. He's like an infection in our ranks. And I need to minimize the damage he's doing. He and his 'men' have taken over an abandonded butcher's shop in Northgate called All The World's Meat. I need you to go in and take stock of the situation and then handle it. If you can avoid killing any of them, I would appreciate it. I have some questions I want to ask them. But the bigger concern is ending his rebellion before it spreads. Can you handle that?" She smiles tiredly. "Though if you need to catch some sleep first I can understand that. Do you have a place to bed down?"

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"I think we can handle it," Tarrov raised an eyebrow at his companions, "unless anyone thinks differently?"

He looked back at Field Marshal Kroft.  "Is there any information that you can give us on Mister Vancaskerkin?  Does he have any weaknesses or proclivities of which you know?  What are his religious leanings?  Any idea why he suddenly went secessionist?  Was he considered a good officer before he went rogue?  A popular one?  Was he vetted before he joined the guard, and what did that turn up?  Do you think they took over this butcher shop because it was convenient, or does it have some sort of tactical or strategic value?  That sort of thing."

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This message was last edited by the player at 08:43, Mon 11 Nov 2013.

Kroft shrugs. "He is...was...adequate as far as his service went. There were some discipline problems. Minor infractions his superior let slide. Late for musters mostly. I would guess a woman was the cause." She takes another small drink. "He was over one of the pike units for a while. He's taken four men with him. All vetrans and none what I would call shining examples of military honor. They'll give you a fight if it comes to it. But there are ho spell tossers that I know of."

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Tarrov nodded.  "A woman, you say?  Any idea who or where she might be?  We might be able to have her talk some sense into her man.  Of course, he might be deserting because of her; that would be good to know as well."

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This message was last edited by the player at 08:42, Mon 11 Nov 2013.

"Indeed, she may be the root of the issue. Can you give us directions to his station so we may interview his men before we confront them, and a pass, so we're not mistaken for looters would be nice too."

"If I knew who she was, I would approach her with the matter. Honestly, it's speculation on my part." Kroft sets her cup down. "But usually when a man deserts his post it's due to money, Shiver, or a woman. There were no indications he was an addict. And it's usually a woman. One way or the other, he needs to be brought to justice. I'd prefer he face charges in a court. Arrest him and bring him to custody. His men as well. Though, " the Field Marshall sighs, "I understand they may resist. And you need to do what you need to do. But if at all possible, bring them in alive."

Selvin frowned a bit as he listened to the conversation. Rogue watchmen. They'd already seen a drunk one that night. And with the city kind of tearing itself apart, it wasn't a surprise he supposed, but still not a good thing.

To his companions he said, "We should scout them out first before actually approaching. See if they're barricaded in there and shoot first ask questions later sort of thing, or if we can approach to talk safely."

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Tarrov grinned at Field Marshal Kroft.  "Not to worry, Milady.  Alive is my specialty."

The bard turned to look at Selvin and Vaddis.  "Those are both solid ideas.  The more information we have, the better, I say."  He looked around at the others.  "I propose that we, with the Field Marshal's leave, of course," he nodded at Kroft, "decamp from here and head towards his station to interview those who served with him, and then scout out the lay of his lair.  What say you?"

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This message was last edited by the player at 08:41, Mon 11 Nov 2013.

Toke thought over what the Marshall and his own comrades were saying. Personally it would be much easier just to lock the watchmen in their safe little store and turn "All The World's Meat" into a burning wreck. It wouldn't be hard for the Marshall to lump it into the rest of the burning city, should the need arise. He smiled to himself as he mused over his new position helping the guard rather than avoiding them.

For now he would play along.

Toke nodded at Tarrov's words, "Sounds like a plan, Garrick."

Please head to the All The World's Meat thread.