The Crimson Echo IC

[Steveodore]

Having managed to avoid the sea creature'so attacks, Miz continues her assault.

Spoiler

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Miz attacks second Riftclaw with a bite attack, again!

(1d20+5)[7]
(1d6+3)[8]

[Stelio Kontos]

"Yeah, we got hi-- Ow!"

Aliani gritted his teeth, moving silently to the next reefclaw and taking a swing.

Spoiler: OOC

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(1d20+3)[15] attack, (1d8)[1] damage

[Darvin]

"Impressive work, friends," Dalen says half-heartedly. He fires off another acid splash with one hand as he withdraws his pocket watch to check the time with the other.

Spoiler: OOC

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Acid splash into melee
Attack (1d20-1)[1]
Damage (botched the roll tag, but it doesn't matter)

[PiccadillyPi]

Silas' morale waned as these simple creatures proved to be somewhat the challenge.

'Can't say we've earned this meal.'

Spoiler: OOC

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(1d20+8)[19]
(2d4)[6]

Edit: forgot the +4. The damage should be 10.

[Inspectre]

Once again, you pummel the reefclaw from every side, but it is the fisherman who deals the final blow, again stabbing his long spear into the creature's head.
Once more the creature flails around in its death throes, determined to try and take one of you with it.

Spoiler: Reefclaw #2 Death Reaction

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Targets: 1-2 Aliani, 3-4 Silas, 5-6 Miz
Claw #1:
Target: (1d6)[6]
To-Hit: (1d20+2)[17]
Damage: (1d4)[2]
Hit: Fort Save DC 13 or Poisoned and lose (1d2)[2] STR
Grapple: (1d20+8)[28]
Constrict Damage: (1d4)[3]

Claw #1:
Target: (1d6)[2]
To-Hit: (1d20+2)[16]
Damage: (1d4)[3]
Hit: Fort Save DC 13 or Poisoned and lose (1d2)[1] STR
Grapple: (1d20+8)[16]
Constrict Damage: (1d4)[2]

After the beast crumples, the fisherman gives it another good stab, burying his spear in it as if to pin it to the pier.
Even with only the brief exertion of this combat, the old man is breathing heavily as he pulls a machete off of his belt.

"Mind helping me lop off their claws? No sense in letting the meat go to waste . . . especially after what they did to Young George. Poor George."

The fisherman spares a moment to glance at the ravaged body of his comrade, and then returns his attention to hacking off the oversized foreclaws of the two crustacean abominations.

"Name's Fishguts Jim. Young George and I were out doing a little night fishing, figured we'd stay out on the river until things settled down a bit. Didn't expect to be greeted at the docks by two damn Reefies. I owe you strangers my life, and that's a fact. You ever need anything, you just let ol' Fishguts know."

[Darvin]

"We need to get to Old Korvosa," Dalen interjects in a manner-of-fact manner, "a friend of our's is in danger, and with the rioting the roads are too treacherous to travel. We were hoping to avoid the mayhem by traveling by water, but it seems even the creatures of the deep are agitated,"

[PiccadillyPi]

The eldest of the party looked over Aliani after the death rattle.

'You look pale. Go sit over there. Miz, check on him!'

After hearing Jim's story, it didn't feel right to keep them for himself. Knowing his butchering skills were not up to snuff, Silas aimed well above the claws while he assisted the fisherman in cutting off the arms of the creatures.

THWAK!

Silas continued Dalen's words, avoiding any bushes to beat around.

'Is that boat available?'

He pointed his sword at the dingy before removing the second claw.

THWAK!

'We aren't thieves,'

Silas paused with a glance to Miz.

'But we've only the briefest of opportunities before... well, I'd rather not say.'

[Stelio Kontos]

"I'm fine!" Aliani snapped, in a tone that clearly said the opposite; he was looking a bit on the limp side. The reefclaw had taken a decent chunk out of his right leg just above the knee, a deeper wound than the other one, and he began flexing it and kneading the thigh muscle. "It, uh, probably just hit a nerve or something, I'm sure I can walk it off, maybe it will feel better once we start going. Just a little numb right now..."

[Steveodore]

Miz had to admit this Fishguts was one tough old coot, as she admired the spear sticking out of the still twitching Reefclaw. At Silas' direction Miz stepped over to the protesting actor to give him a look over.

"Come on now Fancy Pants, jus let me have have a look-see"

Miz attemps to herd Alinai to a spot to sit down while she checked him over.

"Mmh, fixin' this up will take a bit o' time. Since I doubt you're willin' ta sit this out, on the count the the lady and her sister you're havin' ta impress, I can at least wrap it good so's you don't leak all over ta street."

Miz gave a little hissing laugh before her smille turned to a frown. This venture was already turning bad and there were alot of unknowns waiting ahead of them still before dawn.

[Inspectre]

Fishguts Jim looks up from his work on the first reefclaw to observe Silas's swift dismemberment of the second.

"Not bad young man. You want to aim for just above the joint though - shell's a little softer there. Like this."

It takes the old fisherman several swings with his machete to hack completely through the limb, but the process does seem somewhat smoother than Silas's strikes. Fishguts Jim then turns his attention to Dalen while he hacks off the second of the reefclaw's foreclaws.

"So you're in need of a boat, eh? Help me get these claws into the boat and I'll take you fellas over to Old Korvosa. She may be a little small, but ol' Domina here has weathered many a storm. Just pull up your legs a little and everyone will fit just fine."

All of you manage to pile into the rowboat without falling into the water after Fishguts pushes the boat back out onto the water. True to his word, you all manage to fit aboard it, although the boat is starting to settle fairly low into the water. It is good that you did not bring Nadine after all, as it will be close whether or not you will be able to fit Beautrice into the boat without sending it to the bottom of the river. Of course, the pile of freshly gutted fish sitting in the middle of the boat might also have something to do with the boat nearing capacity. Fishguts Jim settles himself in the middle of your group at the oars, and starts rapidly pushing the boat through the water without any help or complaint, as if he has done this many times before. After about a minute of moving out into the river, Fishguts Jim sets the oars aside and lets the river's current push you along, with only occasional paddling from him on one side or the other to help direct the boat around obstacles.

"So uh, sometimes when the fish weren't biting, Young George and I would ferry passengers back and forth. We'd give them a tour of the city, point out local landmarks to 'em, that sort of thing . . . I don't suppose you would be interested in something like that?"

****************

By Dalen's watch, it only takes you ten minutes to get from the Midpoint docks over to Old Korvosa, which is pretty good considering it would have taken you much longer to get there on foot. And other than the Reefclaws on the docks, you don't encounter any other problems along the way, which may not have been true tonight on the city's streets even at this hour.

"I don't much like this part of the city, so I'd rather not stick around too long."

Fishguts Jim remarks, looking over at the small flotilla of docked ships a short distance away that made up Eel's End, one of the more infamous underworld dens in the city.

"You fellas going to be able to get back here before dawn? Got to get this shipment of fish to the market and on ice before they spoil . . . and these claws into a nice pot. Reefclaw is best cooked no more than six hours after being harvested - meat starts getting tough after that."

From the docks here, the address Nadine gave you was perhaps five minutes away. Assuming you didn't have *that* much trouble rescuing Beautrice, this should be a relatively short errand. But about a minute away from the address you do run into a big problem - namely, Kynndor Thok, pacing back and forth in front of the alleyway that would offer the most direct route to the house where Beautrice was being held. He doesn't notice you immediately, as rather than patrolling he seems pre-occupied and agitated, as if wrestling with some sort of decision while he mutters to himself.

(You can avoid Kynndor Thok is you wish by going the long way around to approach the address from the far side. You can try to sneak past him. You can confront him openly, or you can sneak up on him and ambush him. Or you can just call it a night and go home with Fishguts to make a nice Reefclaw bisque. At the moment, you have all of those options available to you.)

[PiccadillyPi]

Silas relaxed for the few minutes they had to do so. Pushed against a comfortable spot of the boat, he drifted with the river, making sure to keep both hands out of the water. Whatever dangers lurked beneath, well, he had no desire to feed them. As for when they docked, there wasn't much planning to consider on his end - not yet.

'We'll be back well before breakfast.'

In their approach to the address, Silas balanced the palm of his hand on his pommel. He'd have to treat the sword to a nice sharpening after tonight for all it's done. Refocusing, the striped tiefling addressed the group in a hushed voice.

[If Aliani gets too hot-blooded at the sight of Kynndor: 'Count your arrows! We aren't equipped for a frontal assault!']

'I recall a job I had once. I'm a bit blurry on the details, but I think it went something like... sneak in, stay out of sight, and rescue some dolt. Ah, no, I had to kill him. Right. My point is, I went through the front and was lucky enough to get through the doorman before several goons showed me the error of my ways.'

Silas considered their surroundings for a second.

'Aside from the oft disappointing route of fooling the foolish, we could risk the back door - if there is one. I cannot promise anything once we're inside, however.'

[Stelio Kontos]

"Please, don't waste it on me, she might be hurt, and..." Aliani began to protest, before finally giving up and letting Miz have a look. "I'm sure it will be fine, don't use anything you can't get easily -- AAAAAH not there!" ... "okay. let's wrap it" he finally assented. The wrap didn't really help with the fact that his leg felt like it was asleep, of course, but they didn't need to know about that right now, keep them focused on what's ahead...it hurts so much...

He took a seat in the far back of the boat. "Sure, Jim, we'd love to hear it. I've lived here all my life but I've never really been out on the river...say, what's that big thing up ahead there?" he asked, pointing at what he knew to be the Bank of Abadar a few blocks inland. The momentary distraction Jim's Guided Tours would provide was enough, he hoped, as he bought his hand quickly to his neck. Forgive me, Everbloom; I know it's for other people, but I can't do it without your help right now. Just please take some of the pain away for a few minutes, enough so they don't have to worry about me?

Spoiler: OOC

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Channel Energy for (2d6)[8]. I've got one left after this...

As the boat docked, Aliani needed an extra effort to hoist himself out of the boat, still clearly dragging the leg along as they went, and though Miz's work had apparently stanched the blood decently he was distinctly walking at a substandard pace...

Thok.

He immediately began a mental calculus, even as Silas began telling him to cool his jets. He was nothing but cold at the moment, so that wasn't an issue. The back door could work, but even so surely someone would raise the alarm he'd hear that and then we'd have to take all of them at once... you're almost spent, save for what you were supposed to use on Lamm... unless there's a reason you had to save it... oh..."

"I was thinking he'd make an excellent hostage. How fast do you think you could tie up a statue?"

[Darvin]

"Try it," Dalen whispers, as he grasps in his belt for a scroll of obscuring mist, "if it fails, Silas and Miz should use the distraction to slip past and rescue the lady,"

[PiccadillyPi]

'How quick? Depends on the mood.'

When it came to ropes, Silas learned through his profession. Regardless, he prompted someone to produce a rope while he readied himself to run in at Aliani's signal.

[Inspectre]

(Lol, and sometimes despite the best laid plans, the bad guy rolls a natural "17" on his Will save.)

Aliani sneaks in close to the conflicted Shaoti warrior, before popping out and commanding in a series of mystical syllables for him to "Halt!"
For just the briefest of moments Kynndor's muscles lock up as the muscles take hold, but almost as a reflex he strains against the magic, the muscles on his neck bulging.
He takes one slow step forward, and then another, and then the magic breaks completely as he shrugs off the effect.
Immediately the huge Shaoti turns his head to look at Aliani, his eyes flashing in recognition.

"You!? What are you doing here, tashmek!!?"

Then the two sides are obscured from each other's vision, as Dalen reads off his magical scroll, conjuring a bank of fog around himself and Aliani.
Miz and Silas slip off through the fog bank and into the nearby alleyway while Kynndor moves forward to the edge of the fog cloud, peering into it while sliding a large axe off of his back and into his hands.

"Did you come here for Nadine? Whatever you may think of me, you should know that I'm here for her too. This was not my doing!"

***********

PicaddilyPi & Steveodore

The two of you hurry down the darkened alley, and as you reach the end of it the two-story house where Nadine's sister was being held finally comes into sight. It appears that you may be too late, however, as a flickering glow begins to grow in intensity within the second story window facing you. Wisps of black smoke begin to ooze out from the roof tiles, and you can hear shouts of alarm from inside. "Fire! FIRE!" They cry.

Beautrice's Musical Theme

As the house's front door bursts open to disgorge a trio of duster-wearing goons who flail and gesticulate helplessly at the roof to each other, you catch sight of a figure smashing out the second-story window that looks out onto the dark alley that runs alongside the house as a mirror of the dark alley you are currently sheltering in, just across the open street that the front of the house overlooks. A figure not so much jumps as awkwardly tumbles out through the window a moment later, landing heavily in the dark alleyway. It drags itself up onto its feet and starts limping down the alleyway towards you and the open front-side street, leaning heavily on the wall of the house for support. Even at this distance, you can tell that this person bears a strong resemblance to the woman you encountered earlier tonight, but she's had a much worse night. Her dress is in tatters, the edges of the long rents in the fabric stained dark red with blood - and it's unlikely to have come from an external source this time. From the way she's limping, she probably sprained or broke one of her ankles from that hard fall out the window. But it's her face that holds the most disturbing injury - the right side of her face is just a splotchy, angry red mask of underlying musculature, as the skin there has been burned away by something (Miz would guess Acid). How Beaturice was even conscious at this point, let alone ambulatory, was a miracle, but it seemed unlikely that she would be able to get much further away from the house and the Dusters, even in their distracted state, without help.

[Steveodore]

Miz races forward to intercept the lady and ward the dusters away from her. As she moves she pops the cap off one of her infusions and quickly quaffs it.

As the magic takes effect. Miz grows massive size and fills the alley. While keeping her eye on the dusters Miz reaches out to steady the Mutilted lady.

"Easy there! You're safe now! Your sister Nadine sent us."

Spoiler

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drank enlarge person

[Stelio Kontos]

Fine! If you want him to tear my head off, fine. Fine!

Aliani was in full seethe, the steam coming out of his ears blending nicely with the mist from Dalen's spell (so that's what he had planned).

"You didn't TAKE Nadine, you stupid sonofabitch, you took her sister, and if you actually cared about her you'd know the difference!" he screamed in utter despair. "So come on, kill me, we both know you can, I don't even give a damn any more if you die right now or rot in jail or get away with it, but YOU'RE NEVER GOING TO SEE HER AGAIN. My friends will see to that."

In what would prove, no doubt, to be a gesture of utter futility, he drew his morningstar in the midst of the fog and pounded it on the ground.

Spoiler: OOC

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I, uh, got nothing here. Ready an attack if he comes within whatever passes for sight here?

[Darvin]

Dalen moves towards the edge of the mist, waiting for Kynndor to enter the fog before he'd slip right past him.

Spoiler: OOC

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Stealth check (don't fail me now) (1d20+5)[25]

Also withdrawing my whistle from my inventory.

[PiccadillyPi]

Seeing the troubling state of Beautrice, Silas drew his sword. He was quick to roar commands to the trio as they escaped the burning building. As he shouted, blooded dripped from his palms. There was hatred in his grip. Such that it might weaken the leather, or perhaps flare the white in his knuckles from beneath his layered fur.

'REMOVE YOURSELVES FROM THESE STREETS LEST I REMOVE YOUR *****!'

Something in his eyes - something evil - tried to justify his deepest desires. The girl, no older than his daughter, had just been through gods know what. Strange burns, torn clothes, and bleeding wounds. There were folks in circles he never dared enter - noblemen and merchants - that enjoyed such sights. He never entertained the idea of joining those underground dens. Rather, he wished to see them burn as Korvosa did this night. Perhaps he projected too quickly these ideas, yet there he was: his sword drawn, ready to decimate not their numbers, but their bodies. For only this brief moment he managed to control such a bestial instinct.

Spoiler: OOC

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Intimidation check on the three guys out front:

(1d20+8)[21]

I hope at least one of them cares enough to keep themselves whole.

[Inspectre]

PiccadillyPi & Steveodore

Beautrice slows to a stop at the corner of the house, grimacing in obvious pain as she slumps further against the wall to catch her breath.
She looks up in alarm at the two of you as giant-Miz makes her presence known, but the mention of her sister clearly reassures her.
Encouraged to keep coming your way, Beautrice pushes off from the corner of the house and steps out into the open street.
She manages to make it three steps, a little less than halfway across the street, before her leg gives out, she stumbles, and collapses to the street with a grunted curse.

At this point, the three Dusters catch sight of her, pointing and motioning to each other.
They start to approach, which is when Silas steps out to bar the way, venting his fury on them with words but clearly ready to put his blade to use as well.
That gives them pause, and one of them even throws his hands up and turns to walk away.

"That's it, I'm out! Forget this ****, I'm done."

A second man turns to lay a hand on the man's turned shoulder, stopping him.

"Are you crazy!? The safehouse's burning, the girl is getting away - do you have any idea what she will *do* to us!?"

The hand on the shoulder is shrugged off, but the knife to the kidneys that is delivered a moment later is not so easily shrugged off. The stabbed man manages to turn as he falls, grabbing the wrist of his attacker and pulling him down as he falls - right down onto the point of his own knife. The third man, seeing the carnage unfolding around him, simply throws up his hand, showing Silas that they were empty, as he backs away to a safe distance before fleeing into the night.

Giant Miz steps out and in two quick strides is at Beautrice, and without much effort manages to scoop the injured lady up and sling her over one shoulder. Now up close, Miz can see that other than her sprained/broken ankle and face, Beautrice's injuries were relatively minor - the dozens of rents in her dress had been made by shallow cuts from a small knife, meant to inflict minor but painful cuts in the skin. Her face was a different story - while her eyes seemed to both still be in working order, that much skin missing from the side of her face was going to be a serious risk of infection, and then it was all downhill from there. Miz had seem plenty of people suffer relatively minor injuries down in the sewers that got infected from the filthy living conditions - from there, it was usually a pretty rapid and painful death from fever and sickness.

Stelio Kontos & Darvin

Dalen creeps up to the edge of the fog, and thus is able to view Kynndor's oddly relieved expression as Aliani rants at him.
The big Shaoti slowly slings his axe back over his shoulder.

"If I wanted you dead, tashmek, I'd have done it already. I was trying to make peace with Nadine so I could convince her to leave the city. Marlessa is the jealous type so I knew she'd try something like this. Hah, but those idiots bungled the job and grabbed the shrew instead. Well, at least now I don't have to do anything about it. You and these friends of yours keep Nadine safe, tashmek. Or I will find you."

And with that, Kynndor Thok simply turns and walks away, off into the darkness.

[PiccadillyPi]

Wise or unwise, Silas relieved himself of his stance and stored his weapon. Floating between rage and relief, he found himself glamoured by his palms, pricked by pointed nails. Slow as it might take a drop of rain to reach the earth, the muted tiefling spoke.

'She?'

His sense returned. Whoever 'she' was, it didn't matter in this moment. Rather, the desperate Beautrice was decidedly more important. Tossing a loose piece of gravel their way, Silas called to the pair behind the fog, expressing whatever urgency he could.

'Hark! Here! Quickly!'

He knew he'd be useless here. A gift of knowledge from a dozen past mistakes. Once he was certain Aliani and Miz could help, he took his sword to ensure the two thugs on the ground were not just sleeping. From there, he tried to enter the hideout - through the fires if need be - to collect any information he could. Documents, pictures, maps... anything. Not long enough to be buried, however. Just enough to be singed.

One place he hadn't considered was the body of either thug he had just impaled.

Spoiler: OOC

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Hard to fake a stab wound. I'm just making the assumption they're both down for the count.

[Stelio Kontos]

"MAYBE CALLING HER SISTER A SHREW AND LEAVING HER KIDNAPPED ISN'T THE RIGHT WAY TO MAKE PEACE WITH HER, YOU IGNORANT LUMMOX!" Aliani huffed, his hearing being sufficient to determine that he wasn't going to die, at least not immediately. It was then that Silas's shouting caught his ear -- good thing too, as he was probably about to do something he might not live to regret.

Limping out of the fog toward the voice, he began walking... then broke into what passed for a run, though it was more like a three-legged race with an invisible man. "Oh Bea oh nonono oh no" was all he could say, trying not to look at her -- or trying not to let her look at him. "I... um, find some clean blankets, anything... should have stayed with you until you were out of town and never should have tried... I hope this doesn't hurt I'm sorry" he said, trying to find a finger or anything that wasn't actively bleeding, and breaking into a familiar refrain, this one sadder than the last time he said it.

"Valiant fought 'gainst mighty foes,
Through my words may your wounds close."

Spoiler: OOC

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Convert my Cause Fear to a Cure Light on her, for (1d8+3)[8] points of healing. That would be my last spell for the day, and I have one channel energy left (which I won't use now).

[Steveodore]

Miz held Beatrice carefully in her arms. After inspecting her wounds, she wasn't in as terrible shape as she initially thought. The her mutilated face was worrying but, provided they don't dunk her in the bay, she should make it out okay once they reached somewhere secure. The streets were still dangerous so any aid should wait until they returned.

Miz frowned down at Aliani, seeing Beautrice looked like it had hit him harder then the Reefclaw had.

"..Shall we go back ta the boat then? Don know if you want ta take her ta her sister right away..."

Miz felt alittle helpless between Aliani's misery and her fragile cargo, the feeling was vexing her more then being hit with acid earlier tonight had.

"Eugh.. Aliani we gotta move, the duster's hidehole is burnin' an' I'm not sure how long that's gonna keep em. Silas is back there now, I'll go ahead an' meet you lot back at the boat."

With that Miz took off back toward Dalen and the way they came.

[Inspectre]

PiccadillyPi

While the two men entwined with each other were still locked in a death grip with each other, it was questionable at best whether either would survive their injuries.
You decide to make that a definite "no" for both of them, impaling one to the other and then down to the street, with a single hard thrust of your falchion.
It was definitely going to need some sharpening tomorrow - today - whichever, but for now it did its job rather well.
You stomp a boot down onto the back of the topmost body, working your falchion back out of the two men with some difficulty, before turning and running inside the burning building.

It looks like the fire had started on the set of stairs leading up to the second room and spread from there, so the main downstairs room of the small home is not yet totally engulfed in flames.
There is however, thick smoke filling the building by this point which makes it hard to breathe and even harder to see.
You stumble about for perhaps a minute, struggling to expel the smoke from your lungs only to draw more in with your next breath.
Your hurried examination of the downstairs is that this was a safehouse, not a base of operations and thus there is not much in the way of documents to find.

With no way to get upstairs sort of walking through flames - and while you might be fine with that, the rickety stairs already burning for several minutes might not be - and on the verge of collapsing, you turn and stumble your way back outside.
On your disoriented way out, you crash into a table that certainly wasn't there before - unless maybe you had turned left before instead of right? hard to keep track right now - sending a table full of silver and copper coins with a few flashes of gold toppling over to the floor. There is a soft tink of glass as well, and the sound draws your flailing hand down to the floor where a pair of glass vials tied together and still strangely cool to the touch are now resting amidst the uncomfortably warm metal coins. You reflexively snatch the combined pair of vials up off the floor, and feel the flutter of a paper tag against your hand as you stumble back out into the night.

To find that you are not alone now as the fire and shouts of the men before they fled/killed each other has drawn a crowd. People start forming up into bucket lines as a matter of course, while someone shouts to you to ask if anyone else was in there. Which is when a woman from the crowd jabs a finger at you and cries "He killed those men, I saw him! I bet he set the fire too! ARSONIST!!!!!"

The good citizens of Korvosa, like its parentage of Cheliax, are racist against devil-blooded at the best of times. Here, you got to see them at their worst, as the crowd immediately turns against you.

"Devils' Whoreson! ARSONIST! HANG HIM! BURN THE DEVIL!" Come several voices in the crowd, and a number of people drop what they're doing in fighting the fire to attempt to subdue you and make a citizen's arrest - undoubtedly followed by a citizen's execution given the bloodiness of this night. You manage to push your way through them, fending the most aggressive ones off with a boot or the flat of your falchion, but you still take a couple hard blows to the back and a few thrown cobblestones to the head as you break free and flee into the night. Once free of the group, Silas looks down to see that he is holding two glass(?) vials, capped with unusually decorative little brass dragon heads and tied together with twine. The twine also holds a flame-browned note to the pair of vials, which despite the flame's kiss Silas can still make out " . . . to the slut if she makes too much . . . dies, you die."

(Much like being attacked by a swarm, despite Silas's impressive AC he still takes (2d6)[9] damage from the mob as he flees. He also takes another (2d6)[7] non-lethal damage from smoke inhalation. More a hurting on his pride than anything. But as many Telltale Games like to say, "This action will have consequences.")

Everyone

Beautrice's innumerable injuries fade at Aliani's touch, although several of the deeper cuts remain and one side of her face remains a raw, if somewhat scabbed over, ruin. Her right ankle still maintains its ugly purple ring of bruises, and bands of rubbed raw skin continue to circle her arms and wrists - it's unclear how she was able to free herself but it's clear that it hadn't been easy. The poor girl is clearly out of it at this point, simply fading in and out of consciousness as she does not respond to Aliani's cries, only slumping into Miz's grip further as her head lolls. She does seem stable for the moment, so that's a positive thing, but it's clear she will not be responsive for right now. Given what she's been through, collapsing into an uneasy sleep might be the best thing for her at the moment. Silas manages to catch back up with you just as you all arrive back at the boat, wheezing and coughing heavily and with several fresh bruises blossoming on the side of his head. The building where Beatrice had been held is a fresh torch stabbing up into the sky at this point, sending up a fresh pillar of black smoke into the brightening sky. Overhead, a quartet of exhausted Sable Marine griffons swoop slowly down towards the Jeggare River, seeking to fill the large canvas stretched between them with water for hopefully the last of dozens of such fires that they have already put out.

Upon seeing you, Fishguts Jim scrambles up to his feet to make room, allowing you to gently lay Beautrice down into the boat, her head carefully resting in Aliani's lap so he could start to carefully wrap her face with whatever cloth was handy. Fishguts Jim takes off his shirt, balling it up before offering it as a pillow for the brutalized woman.

"Sorry to see your trip come to such an unpleasant result, fellas. Shall I be taking you back home, then? Or to the Church of Abadar?"

Frankly, given the mess that the city was in at this point, it was beyond doubt that all of the Churches, even the Asmodean cathedral, would be swamped with the wounded and desperate right now. Taking Beautrice to one such place would likely only condemn her to neglect and death while you all waited for a priest to become available, which could take days - no, if she was to pull through this, it would be by your own hands.

Fishguts expertly pilots the boats back to the docks, which were somewhat more lively at this hour now, in the form of perhaps a half dozen fishermen lamenting over their smashed boats and attempting to salvage (or steal) what they could.

"I gotta get these claws to market. I'd invite you all to see how best to cook 'em, but I imagine you've got bigger concerns at the moment. Still, I'd be happy to drop off of half whatever I'll get for these to you later. Do you have someplace I'll be able to find you when things calm down again?"

After giving Fishguts an answer, even if a noncommittal one, Miz and Silas carefully lift Beautrice out of the boat, and carry her back to Darvin's home. The shop is as you've left it, although everyone still seems to be asleep at the moment. In another few minutes, the sun should peak up over the horizon, and this night of horror will be over, and the dawn of a new day for Korvosa would rise. But would it be any better?

[Darvin]

Stumbling in the door, Dalen looks bleary-eyed at his compatriots, "I'm going to bed. If you require the services of a wizard, don't wake me until afternoon,"

[PiccadillyPi]

Upon reuniting with Fisher Joe, Silas helped however he could to ease the injured woman into the vessel. He, himself, had to make use of some tangled twine, still smelling of its previous usage. The scent couldn't bother him while his head throbbed from the various forms of rock that had struck it earlier. Acid, hammers, rocks, and all sorts of pointy unpleasantness had assaulted him within the last few hours. With just a pinch above the bridge of his nose, however ineffective it felt, he attempted to keep his head from exploding. It was an overall worse experience than he expected, but there was reason enough to be glad of the results brought forth by himself and the others. Enough that as the party paddled up-river, he let out a few chuckles.

'I must say, Mr. Rose...'

The tiefling groaned slightly as he adjusted himself.

'Your life seems to be more dramatic than most plays.'

As they approached the harbour, Silas considered the reactions of the crowd. Avoiding Old Korvosa for a while seemed a wise idea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Through the door and safe again. The apartment felt small, and smelt of an assortment of strange ingredients. Once the group found a place for Beautrice, the dandy left her in Aliani's care. Silas held himself up with whatever wall, shelf, or chair he could reach as he stumbled toward the children.

'They're still here. Good.'

Without any ritual or method, he unlocked his cuirass. He could breathe again. Making his way to a table and chair, he removed his bandolier, unhooked his baldric, and, with some sore struggle, the injured dandy unequipped his armour. He let out a significant sigh after gently placing the piece on the table beside him. The padding followed suite, bunched up by the plate.

Removing his once pristine blouse, Silas examined what remained of his sleeves. His ire showing, the cross tiefling tossed the shirt aside. There was no saving his wardrobe, thus plans were made to visit his homestead, if only briefly, before returning here. Perhaps he could do it before Dalen finished his own preparations. Whatever today brought his way, Silas could only consider right now. Tired and hurt, the devil found himself a spot near the children before curling up for a morning of bad dreams and melancholy reflection.

Vjala, I'm sorry.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

If possible, Silas will try to retrieve some essentials from his house in South Shore.

[Stelio Kontos]

Aliani glanced up at Silas's joke, his own eyes utterly dead and unresponsive, before he looked back down at Beautrice's ankle, cuts.. anything but her face. He didn't say a single word on the journey back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Setting Beautrice down for what he hoped would be a long sleep, he caught Dalen by the arm just before he retired. "Do you have a kitchen? I need a bit of tea... I'm not going to sleep well without it. I can make it myself, just point the way.
And, I don't mean to impose, but do you know the bit of magic that cleans things, prestidigitation you call it? Might be useful tomorrow, with all the blood... if you don't mind. Sleep well. I'll try to handle down here for a bit. Don't worry about my magic, it's not important."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Having put the water on to a boil, he returned to again check on Beautrice, to check on the children, and finally to check in on Silas (and, presumably, Miz) as they settled in. "I, um, want to thank you both" he whispered so as not to wake the others, head bowed. "I'd probably be dead tonight, if it weren't for you. Outside Lamm's door, or a dozen other places. You... you're more than I deserve, both of you. Get some rest, please. You'll feel better afterwards, I promise. And Silas, if you're going to throw that shirt away, let me have it -- could maybe be useful as cloth if we need it. And I know some good costume people, maybe it can be fixed." Assuming Silas assented, he tucked the shirt away in his own pack, also taking a moment to gather up Nadine's tattered sleeves, and the remnants of Beautrice's dress as well. His own acid-spattered and blood-stained pants he kept on, for now.

Having brought the tea to its peak -- I'm going to have to get Dalen some proper stuff, he thought to himself as he perused the months-old scraps of whatever abomination that passed for tea he'd kept laying around -- he quietly poured himself a tall cup and tiptoed through the room jammed full of sleeping tenants, pausing at the front door to give his neckline one more tug to catch one and all in the room with his last healing burst.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

(2d6)[8] healing for one and all, which is probably everyone in the world except Dalen and Greg; not sure who actually needs it.

Taking his cup and quietly closing the door behind him, he propped himself against the wall of Dalen's shop. The sunrise was... well, it certainly wasn't the same effect as the light streaming through a stained glass window and filling the room with a thousand dancing waves of light and energy. But it was there, and given the night's events even that was at least some solace. He took his small brooch pin off, holding it in his open hand, letting the first rays of light reflect off the small silver rose as he gazed upon it, letting his consciousness of the outside world fade away, leaving nothing but his thoughts.

Milani, hear my plea,
I am sure you know what is happening; know that my purpose is yours.
I thank you for the great gifts you have given this day, for the living examples you have brought of your courage, your power, and your strength mind.
I feel unworthy of your love, but I know that you have chosen me for a reason. I wish I knew why you chose me.
I do not feel strong. I do not feel brave. I do not feel smart. I feel inadequate for the purpose for which you have chosen me.
I need your help, and your strength, and your courage, and your mind.
I need your gifts, so that those who ... who deserve your love, can be safe, and powerful, and brilliant, and fearless.
Please don't let those who would seek to prey upon them succeed.
Those you have chosen to lead me, they do not deserve the pain, the suffering.
They do not deserve to die, they do not deserve to be disfigured.
They do not deserve to have their children torn from their loving arms, to see them used, to see them destroyed in body and spirit.
Please, do not let them suffer.
If there must be suffering, let it be me who suffers, and let it be those who would seek to cause suffering.
If there must be pain, let it be mine, and let it be those who would seek to inflict it.
If there must be disfigurement...
... yes, let it be my face.
But please don't let them hurt anyone else.
I know I am weak, and small, and nothing like you.
That all I have received, have accomplished, has been through your work.
Please, help me to let these great people be unburdened, so that they can do what I know I cannot.
I never forget that my life is yours, to use, to take.
All I ask is your gifts, your love, that you may use my life,
so that they won't be hurt as I was, that nobody will ever hurt again.

I wish I could share with them your love,
to open myself fully to them, for I know that you would not have brought them to my life if I could not trust them.
Help me unburden myself from the fear, from the need to hide your gifts, your love.
Please help them be ready to see your love, as I see it,
and to accept it into their hearts, their minds, as I have tried.
They are more than worthy of it.

[PiccadillyPi]

Relief and comfort came to Silas as the healing magic washed over him.

'Thank you, Aliani. However, if you are as sentimental as I am, I'll warn you to destroy that shirt if our situation worsens. That, and it really rather suites itself to become a handkerchief. Silk is unqualified for cleaning...'

He gave a long look around the room before finishing.

'Proper messes.'

With that, he closed his eyes.

'Take care of your girls. You mean the world to them. I'll see... you...'

Sleep overtook the tiefling as the exhaustion from their night adventure finally caught up to him.

[Steveodore]

Finding a place to stow the rescued lady proved to be slightly problematic, what with all the other house guests crowding the place. Still, they managed to make a place for her.

Miz shrugged off her gear and kicked it to a corner of the room. It was a long night, but thankfully it was finally over.

"You're welcome if you like then, but don't think little of yourself. Don't think I'd be lookin' so fresh if it wasn't for your magic. Speaking o' which you should take care of yourself too, you took harder knocks then the rest o' us this time round. Lie down and leave your friend ta me for now, save yourself for tomorrow night, I'm not keen on draggin' your carcass through the streets 'cause you've run yourself ragged."

Tired as she was Miz felt she was better off then then the rest of the party at the moment, so feeling alittle dozy was a poor excuse when there were things she needed to take care of. Miz checked over Beatrice and the others, certainly magic would fix most of their ills, but it was hard to beat a nights rest for somethings. To Miz Aliani seemed obsessed with shouldering every burden he can and then some, it was well outside of her expectations of some big name actor. Given the state of the man, she was libel to tie him up for his own good if she caught him hovering over that dancer.

As nice as it would be to leave it to Aliani and drift off herself, the man was going to turn into a zombie the way he kept at it. For her to be slacking here at this moment was something she can't abide, better to force Aliani to rest while she took care of them.

Spoiler

Show

Use up three points of healing kit for longterm healing on Silas, Aliani and Beatrice.

Taking a 10 instead of rolling for a total of 21.

Miz will rest when she otherwise can, though I'm not sure how much sleep she can get while doing so.

[Stelio Kontos]

"You're welcome if you like then, but don't think little of yourself. Don't think I'd be lookin' so fresh if it wasn't for your magic. Speaking o' which you should take care of yourself too, you took harder knocks then the rest o' us this time round. Lie down and leave your friend ta me for now, save yourself for tomorrow night, I'm not keen on draggin' your carcass through the streets 'cause you've run yourself ragged."

Aliani smiled a smile of assurance. "Magic? I... yes, well. I do have my magic, which is why I'll be fine and you don't need to worry about me, all right? Besides, I'm used to pulling long days down at the theater. We need you fresh this afternoon."