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  #166  
Old 08-23-2019, 01:12 PM
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Ashele Orome
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Ash glances at the note but doesn't really process it before tucking it into her pocket. She'd think more about it later. Ducking her head into the beaded curtain, she nearly gets burnt by the inflammable dragonling. She peers out from behind the doctor at the women struggling and fighting. It looked like Drea almost had Cirith in the cuffs, until the drow and Drea suddenly flit away. For a moment Ash thought that she had escaped, but the noise and movement in the far corner revealed that they hadn't gone far. Why she had decided to only teleport a few yards, and to bring Drea with her... none of her actions made sense. It looked like Drea and Cirith were both hurt, but it looked like Drea had gotten the upper hand.

Ash registered what the doctor was saying, and it wasn't a bad idea. "Aliana, come with me." She says, taking the child's taloned hand and leading her out of the room. "Your mother is very busy right now, so how about you and I go get some lunch?"

 


Once they're outside of the clinic, Ash turns to the girl. "Where is there good food around here?"

As they walk to the establishment, she remembers the doctor's strange reaction. 'Take me instead of her'. She assumed that Cirith was fighting or harming her daughter. Then she remembers the contents of the note. So the pale woman had put something undesirable on the doctor's wall. Could it be an arcane mark? An arcane bomb of some sort? That sounded like extortion at the very least. If it was capable of harming the doctor or destroying her clinic then it was also a great many other things. Public endangerment. Reckless endangerment. Child endangerment. Terrorism. Terrorism threats. Criminal Threats. Intimidation. All first degree. Quite enough to have miss paleface arrested. She'd have to find out the exact nature of what the woman had put on the doctor's wall. Would Cirith's arrest and the doctor's subsequent inability to return the woman healthy to paleface mean that the doctor would pay some price? It might be time to start thinking of putting her and her daughter somewhere safe.

 


 

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Last edited by anamiac; 08-28-2019 at 10:43 AM.
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  #167  
Old 08-26-2019, 11:23 AM
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Kytaran Finuthin
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Although Kytaran has doubts about Valdur going to a brothel can in some way help the investigation, he has no illusions about the ambassador seeing him on such short notice. The two of them don’t exactly see eye to eye on many matters, although the ambassador has used Kytaran’s services in the past when he had no other choice.

”I am at your disposal, for now. I would like to get the chance to drop by the ambassador’s residence and request an audience, but feel it unlikely he can see me today. Let’s visit either the seamstress or the brothel next and see what we can dig up. I would go on my own to the ambassador, but after what happened last night I think we should stick together,” he says. “I guess you can think of me as your bodyguard, for the time being,” he says with a thin smile. He normally doesn’t go out of his way to help non-elves, but he needs those people and they might just need him, so it’s a match of convenience, as it were.

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  #168  
Old 08-27-2019, 01:21 AM
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"Very wise, dear Kytaran," Lady Sorrel says to the Bladesinger with a luscious smile in response to his thin one. We are targets, one way or the other. "Honored Wann has made it clear that whoever has conducted the recent events that have rocked our dear city is far from helpless." She looks one way towards the street that she knew would lead her to the storefront that her rival designer ran and then another, the one that might lead to the brother or the ambassador.

"Hm, my visit can wait for now. Let us head to the brothel - I can't imagine it is much too busy at these hours." The tiefling turns her attention to the dwarf. "Lead on, valiant Valdur!"


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  #169  
Old 08-30-2019, 02:38 PM
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Chapter 2 – Unkind Kindling 14th of Quen’pillar – Afternoon – Rainy
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As the high and mighty architecture of the Cloudtop gave way to the militaristic and utilitarian buildings that crowded its neighboring district to the north, the soft and scattered rain also gave way to a biting, cold shower that tailored the detectives as their car left the sturdy walls and cobbled streets and began threading upon the slick mud of the northern slums. It was about that time that Lady Sorrel sensed a tingling coming from her latest fashion upgrade, just as Silvana’s voice started ringing in her ear, her fellow tiefling’s tired vocals overpowering the storm: “We captured Cirith, I'm taking her to the Bastille. Think the others will investigate Morgana’s home now. Wish you’d been here with me, m’lady.” In the meantime, Kytaran kept an eye from inside his window for any shadows following them, especially after their meeting with the Clasp. He often spotted hooded figures staring back from the back alleys they passed, but it seemed more like local spotters than anyone actually on the chase. In the seat next to him, a dwarven knight fiddled with a wooden puzzle box he’d been struggling to get open. The panels on its sides seemed to shift ever so slightly in some sort of pattern as he pressed them, occasionally exposing a series of metal needles inlaid within the woodwork. A crumpled letter rested to his side, detailing some sort of cryptic instruction in a language the other detectives could not understand.

Eventually, Valdur looked up and yelled at the driver to halt at a nearby intersection, the horses stopping between huffs of white breath right over the manhole that Elrohir had opened the night prior after having been unceremoniously removed from the Journey’s End. Her new bodyguard helped Lady Sorrel down from their car, and together they gazed upon the colorful windows and unassuming door of the brothel they’ve somehow had agreed to visit. Upon knocking, they were received by the visage of a red-headed human male, drenched head to toe in rain water,
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who looked at the new faces suspiciously before recognizing his recently discovered brother and quickly allowing the SSTF agents entrance into the establishment. The interior was pleasantly warm, with the smell of perfumed incense lingering in the air. The large room seemed recently cleaned and mostly unoccupied, save for the man that had received them and two couples chatting away: one sitting in the middle of the room and the other seemingly talking behind one of the covered partitions.

Seating comfortably, or rather sprawling with absolute satisfaction in the middle of the room, a purple-skinned tiefling, naked from the waist up, almost entirely covered in scars and with what looked like two dozen needles sticking from different points of his body and face smiled and waved at them, saying “Welcome to our humble business! I take it you are Valdur’s friends? Good, good. I was planning on visiting you sooner rather than later, guess this saves us both the trouble. Name’s Lucien, I run this place and help run the one below. Would you like anything while you’re here? Water? Wine? Me?” He offered while deftly undoing the button on his trousers with an inviting look, which soon enough turned to a tense grin as the blue tiefling woman that had been standing over him, slim and covered in just about as many scars, pierced yet another needle into his nape and smiled as she twisted it, speaking softly. “Don’t mind our boss, he knows we aren’t yet open for business. I am Cindy, pleased to make your acquaintance. I take it you come here looking for us as blood hunters rather than sex workers.”

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Ash got ahold of the little, frightened Aliana, just as the door to the clinic flew open when Tuson rushed in, crossbow at the ready and yelling for his men to cover the windows. With a quick glance he noted his fellow detective’s signs and motioned for the others to go for the back door, allowing the unassuming pauper girl to slip past him with the doctor’s daughter in tow. They were met outside by a chilling wind and the clatter of the rain pouring down as they ran past the police officers struggling to keep the slummies away from the scene. Inside, Drea had managed to stand up and finish adjusting Silvana’s manacles along with the magic ones in order to secure Cirith’s wrists and ankles before the spell that was holding her wore off. She also managed to cover the drow’s undressed body with a dirty doctor’s coat that had been hanging from the door before the policemen finally poured into the room. Meanwhile, the tiefling rested on the bathroom floor, barely managing to remain sitting as she nursed the still-smoldering wound in her chest after having been struck by lightning at point-blank.

When the Hold Person spell finally lost its effect, its victim clenched her teeth and struggled as hard as she could against her new, material bindings, cursing the detectives in a furious under-common all the while. All she accomplished by doing so, however, was to quicken the rate of her blood-loss, which quickly caused her to lose consciousness. Her outraged screams eventually died down, turning into a pathetic whimper.

Quickly enough the twelve officers and their boss secured both the area and the captive’s belongings. A special police transport was called for from the walls to safely scort the sorceress directly into the Black Bastille, and Tuson expected it would be arriving any minute now. In the meantime, the screams of another young woman died down, and the piercing yells of a newborn, healthy pair of twins overtook the noise of the rain as the doctor, completely exhausted, finally came out to face the officers stomping all over her home and business. She seemed willing to cooperate, but there was a nervousness in her voice that seemed unbecoming of the imposing figure she’d presented up to that point.

Once the young couple was ready to return home, the policemen moved into the room and seized Cirith’s property: a set of bloodied, torn clothes, almost entirely ruined by the gunslinger’s shots; two daggers and a hand-crossbow, along with 20 bolts and four vials of violet drow poison; a black earring crafted artfully in a sober elven style which the detectives quickly recognized; and a set of magic scrolls, which Drea managed to identify as a Sending spell, a True Seeing spell, and a terrifyingly powerful Delayed Blast Fireball spell, which thankfully their arsonist didn’t get to employ. Upon further inspection, it seemed this last scroll had been originally a simple Fireball spell, upon which countless scrawling lines of primordial had been painted over, somehow shifting the essence of the already dangerous magic item. All of these were stored within two locked chests, and set to be transported back to the Bastille as evidence, after the SSTF detectives were asked if any of them would be better off in their hands for a couple more hours.

After a while, the secure transport did arrive, and within seconds Silvana, Tuson, and seven of the officers were climbing unto it after restraining Cirith’s unconscious body even further within its padded interior, only having waited for Dr. Luminaar’a to staunch the flow of blood escaping from her once again ripped-open abdomen. After they left, the maimed dragonborn was left in Drea’s custody, along with five other officers keeping the area clear, while they waited for Ash and the girl to return.

They didn’t wait long at all, given how peacefully this second act had gone. Ash had quietly taken the girl to a nearby eatery, where an elder dwarven woman with a long white beard braided and tossed behind her shoulder greeted them warmly, asking “Oh, yer mighty pale my child. Is ye mum doing alright? Don’t ye worry about the copper, we owe the good ol’ Doc a whole lot, so this one’s on the house. Ye want some hot chocolate dear?” She then gave them some warm drinks and two lovingly prepared sandwiches, generously filled with cheese, bean paste, veggies and a thin slice of ham each, before sending the girl off with a kiss on the forehead which caused her to laugh as her beard fell atop her, tickling her scaly back. By the time they returned, Aliana was no longer trembling as she walked alongside Ash, grasping her hand tightly until they crossed the door and she broke into a sprint towards her mother, hugging her tightly.

 
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Last edited by Jim Faindel; 08-30-2019 at 03:07 PM.
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  #170  
Old 08-30-2019, 05:51 PM
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Ashele
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Ashele smiled at the dwarf and murmured her appreciation as they left the eatery. Coming back towards the clinic, she took in the scene immediately. Silvana and Tuson were gone, along with many of his men. That was unfortunate, it would make it difficult to pursue any action against paleface. This was her fault. She should not have allowed herself and Aliana to wander so far from the clinic.

It's refreshing to see a child happy. Ash gives the doctor a grin as she takes her daughter into a tight hug. Then it was time for business. "Doctor, if I remember right, you were just telling me how to apply the medicine to my neck when we were... interrupted." She waits patiently for the doctor's explanation. "Great, that makes sense! Ok, I didn't have time to deliver your message yet, but I'll do that right now!" She turns and begins skipping cheerfully away to the north.

 


Once Ash is satisfied that she's seen the doctor's reaction, she brings her hand to her chest and changes her armor, changing her appearance to be the uniform of a Detective of the Watch. She turns to Drea. "In all this excitement, I haven't had a chance to properly commend you. Excellent work, detective Sintklair. It was a tough situation, and you performed admirably. Did she give you any additional trouble after I left?" She listens patiently.

Then she grins sardonically at the Doctor. "Miss Luminaar, I have reconsidered your offer of a bed, on account of the unknown and likely dangerous spell on the side of your wall. I'd prefer my sleep to be uninterrupted by incinerations and the like. And then there are the reprisals to think of. Now clearly the arrest of Cirith was not due to any action on your part - regrettable, as I understand there was a reward - but I've found that criminals are rarely rational individuals. When Paleface learns that Cirith was arrested while under your care, she may get angry, and possibly direct her anger at innocent targets such as yourself or your clients. I'm afraid that for the well being of your patients, we must evacuate your clinic. Immediately. And for your own safety, as responsible member of the watch we are compelled to convey yourself and your daughter to a safe location where you will be free from the threats and violence of that criminal and her associates."

 


Once the good doctor has had sufficient time to process this and the evacuation has been commenced, Ashele will try to get a little more information out of her. "We'll bring in an Arcanist to investigate the spell on your wall and attempt to diffuse it. Miss, it seems this woman and her associates have a lot to answer for. I'm sure you'd like to see them all placed where they cannot again molest you or any other member of this city. Right now we've plenty of evidence against Paleface, but wouldn't you like to see the other human and the ogre arrested as well? Anything you can tell me about Cirith, the ogre, or either of her human companions would be most useful."

At some point either before or after the preceeding paragraphduring the evacuation, Ashele will take Drea aside so that they can confer on plans. "We need to convey Miss Luminaar to a safe location. I have a couple options in mind, and I'd prefer to keep the number of people in-the-know to a minimum. Perhaps I will take them in one coach. It would be nice if the residence of Morganna could receive a visit. Given her role as a student of the Arcane, I'm sure that's something for which you're infinitely more qualified. If you cannot get a landlord to let you in, well, she's been a missing person for over twenty-four hours, so you're justified forcing an entry. Take the watchmen with you. Once we're done, we'll meet back up with Silvana and Tuson at police headquarters, and see if we can organize an operation against the other adventurers."

 

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Last edited by anamiac; 08-31-2019 at 01:10 AM.
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  #171  
Old 08-31-2019, 01:52 AM
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Once Theresa has Cirith properly cuffed with both sets, she tries to find a place to sit. Drea is tired, and her hand is feeling very firey at the moment. But the doctor was busy tending to another screaming patient... evidently a pregnancy by the screaming children she hears a moment later, and Detective Tuson wants her professional opinion on some scrolls found along Cirith's possessions.

She suddenly giggles aloud, as Cirith begins to struggle futilely against her restraints. ~ She's funny. Andi whispers inside the broken sorceress' mind.

Theresa coughs, then attempts to wave off any curious looks. "Sorry. Just uh, post-battle jitters." She then looks over the items retrieved. Theresa carefully plucks the Delayed Blast Fireball spell out of the chest. "No disrespect meant. But I believe this particular scroll would be better off with me." she pauses, a look of surprise widening her eyes. "To hopefully unlock how it was created. I will confer with... um... Kytaran. He is much smarter than Dr... I am." she nods her head vigorously, while slipping the scroll into her backpack.

After the detective, his men, and Silvana had left, a weary Drea sits down at the child's tea set. She looks up and over at the doctor, then pulls out a coin from her purse, and holds it out to Doctor Luminaar. "I'll give you a platinum if you can help me with this." she says, holding up her other Dragonborn toasted hand to be looked at. She says nothing of the other fresh scars that she attained from the mis-cast or half-cast teleportation spell, almost as if she doesn't mind those. Though, she won't stop the good doctor from tending to those wounds, if she wishes.

When Ashele returns with the child, a wave of mixed emotions crosses Drea's face. Excitement that the child is safe, and that they can play tea time. Annoyance at the one who tried to burn her hand off. Understanding and care for the scared little Dragonborn who wanted her momma to protect her. Boredom, until she watches Ashele continue the charade. Which was short lived.

Ashele reveals her true self to the doctor, then turns her gaze to Drea. Drea beams at Ashele's praise. "I... I didn't do... Um, I mean, thank you?" she says, a blush beginning to blossom on the young mage's cheeks. "But no. The doctor has been most cooperative." If the doctor tended Drea's wounds, she will show the care to Ashele as proof. She then continues to watch as Ashele explains how dire the situation is, and why the clinic needs to be evacuated.

During which, Ashele suggests that Drea find the residence of Morganna, and give the place a good search for. "Yes, I can do that." Drea says, with a curt nod of her head. Theresa then removes the DBF scroll from her pack and hands it carefully to the other detective. "Be careful of this. Show it to Kytaran, and tell him it was with Cirith. It's scary powerful." she says with emphasis.

Drea then departs, in search of Morganna's residence, taking the carriage housing the talking kittens.

 

 

 
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  #172  
Old 09-02-2019, 09:30 AM
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Kytaran Finuthin
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As they drive away from Cloudtop, Kytaran peers out the window of the carriage, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Any sign of people following them, mostly, but also looking out for a potential ambush. This investigation might be in its infancy as far as time is concerned, but things can move quickly. And the elven bounty hunter knows better than most in the city that sometimes the hunter becomes the hunted.

In fact, reversing the roles can sometimes be a brilliant way to investigate, and something he’s on occasion done deliberately, after a fashion. It’s worked well when he was trying to re-acquire a rare book of elven poetry and wasn’t sure which out of three collectors had hired someone to steal it. All he did was piss off all three collectors and wait for the fallout. When one of them sent a group of thugs to silence Kytaran, that told him all he needed to know. A thin smile spreads over the elf’s face as he recalls the incident.

He doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary, and when the carriage comes to a halt he lithely jumps out and extends a hand to Lady Sorrel. He might be a target just as much as she, but he knows he can handle himself. He has no idea if she can, so he stays close.

As Valdur takes the lead into what looks like a corny brothel, Kytaran hangs back a little, Perception check was a 23trying to see if anyone seems too interested in the investigators going into the house of ill repute. Since the dwarf goes first, he brings up the rear as they enter the building.

Kytaran gives the purple-skinned tiefling an incredulous look. “I thought the line went ‘coffee, tea or me?’,” he says drily. “And in any case the answer is the same. Thanks, but no thanks,” he continues, waiting for Valdur and Lady Sorrel to take the lead.

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  #173  
Old 09-02-2019, 09:01 PM
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Valdur grumbled softly to himself as he shifted panels this way and that on the faces of the box in his hands, always coming to a dead end whenever he managed to expose a needle. The pointed metal themselves all seemed frustratingly dull as they struggled to pierce his weathered fingertips. He considered producing his dagger but he wasn't about to start carving his fingers in the carriage around associates that would be more confused and panicked than anything else. He knew he was getting somewhere if the regular reveal of those needles was anything to go by. He felt he was on the cusp of a revelation before noticing their carriage would past the World's End. He barked for the driver to stop and clambered out, adjusting his armor and weapon before approaching the brothel, tucking the puzzle box back into his pack for the moment, slipping the note carefully into his journal inside his armor.

Stepping into that heavily incensed place and seeing those whom he just had breakfast with this morning was a bit odd the Dwarf admitted upon reflection. Though the place seemed no less jovial that the other day Valdur felt there was a more tangible sense of... dread? Foreboding? He couldn't put his finger on it but there was a shift, at least to his mind. NO doubt brought about with his meeting with The Mistress down below. Seeing Lucien laid out and partaking in some odd ritual with needles himself, a rather odd coincidence he admitted to himself, he spoke up on the group's behalf. "Hello again Lucien. An' a pleasure to meet you Cindy. Didn't expect to come back so soon myself. I was wondering if Nikte has been by recently. The Priestess of th' Raven Queen from last night? Might be night before... So much has happened. She needed to talk t'me about something when I was here the first time around and she might be able to help out with what all we've learned in just the last 12 hours."

Valdur does take a quick glance around for a certain onyx Dragonborne while he waits for Lucien's answer.


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Old 09-04-2019, 06:21 PM
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Lady Sorrel couldn't help but smile as Valdur's shout brought the carriage to heel right before the entrance of the World's End. During the ride, she communicated Silvana's report to the others and replied with her own ("Well done. Our investigation goes well - powerful allies and much to report on the nature of the explosion. We're in the upper slums. Stay safe.") No one who considered themselves to run in the high society of Emon would claim ignorance of the place. She herself had been here on multiple occasions, though perhaps before she was known as the Lady Sorrel. The tiefling stepped out of the carriage, taking Kytaran's offered hand with the graceful certainty that it was the most natural thing in the world for the severe Bladesinger to be in her employ.

She followed Valdur in, choosing not to offer her own history of the place. Once her eyes laid on Lucian, she offered her own greeting. "I am Lady Sorrel. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintances. I am quite the fan of your establishment, dear Lucian. It's been quite a while since I've been educated on the latest trends by true professionals. I believe I'm due a visit quite soon." The Seamstress says,
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her light flirtation an attempt to warm the already quite friendly staff.


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Old 09-17-2019, 08:52 PM
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Elrohir - Owner of GDI
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Elrohir stepped from the taxi into the street he remembered vividly. He waited behind as the others moved into the brothel. He looked at the building with some reverence after what had happened to him. His looked may have looked like a fifteen-year-old who’d spent his first days wages here though the old Elf’s look of wonder an awe stemmed from a more spiritual place. His eyes slowly took in the brothel like it was one of the wonders of the world, some architecturally inspired brilliance and not just a fancy brothel.
With a euphoric sigh Elrohir slowly moved into the sex house. He looked around at the half naked employees and felt more peaceful than he had in years. Brothels were not traditionally a place of rest and relaxation and yet he felt drawn to pray. Sex was often used in worship but not those following the Raven Queen. With a smile he greeted those about.




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Old Yesterday, 12:09 PM
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Chapter 2 – Unkind Kindling 14th of Quen’pillar – Afternoon – Rainy
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While a relative semblance of peace returned to the clinic, Drea took the opportunity to request some minor healing for the burns on her hands. The doctor approached her, took the platinum coin offered to her without giving it much thought, and promptly got to work on disinfecting and bandaging the sorceress' palms. It wasn't until she was satisfied with her work that Luminaar'a raised the obvious question: "Who in the nine hells are you and how did you get into my living room?"

Though the tired dragonborn didn't look like she was looking to push for an answer, as she remained in a state of quiet contemplation and even minor shock until her daughter's embrace managed to remove her from that stupor. "Ali! My heart! You are such a good girl! I was so worried..." she started saying while planting a dozen kisses on her scaly babe's face, but stopped as one of her patients started speaking. "No. For your own sake child don't go anywhere near that place. I shouldn't have send you there to begin with. Thank you for keeping my girl out of harm's way." That and some complementary instructions for the treatment was her answer, alongside an exasperated sigh when the elven woman revealed her true appearance. "Blasted magic..." she muttered before facing Ashelle once more.

"Its Dr. Luminaar'a. Luminaar was my father. But I catch your meaning." She nodded as the cigarette that had remained unlit between her lips suddenly ignited by itself as a puff of smoke exited the side of the doctor's mouth. The acrid smell of cheap tobacco and something else, almost like bitter medicine, filled the air around her as she started talking slowly, telling the police officers to follow Ali and help her gather whatever belongings they could take with them on such short notice, all the while starting to go through her own supply cabinets and securing as much of them as she could carry within a heavy leather sack she'd kept under her desk. "If the choice is between getting my baby-girl to safety, or sticking my neck out for those nut-jobs, then there is no choice at all. We'll follow you, miss A..." she interrupted herself, realizing the name she'd heard earlier was likely as much of a fabrication as the poor girl's facade.

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"Nevermind your name, just get us out of here. That wall is not gonna blow up anytime soon, at least I don't think so, but its been drawing all kinds of bad eyes to this place. I think it was a message, but Gods know what it meant. A couple weeks ago, the girl Cirith came in hauling an outrageous amount of gold to let her paint a mural. I'd known her from before, some years ago the tale of how she escaped the evil clutches of her Matron, Lucretia, and became an adventurer were all the rage among the slum's kids. My own daughter seemed to idolize her. She and her companions would often come looking for traditional medicine, mentioning something about not believing in divine intervention. Worked well enough for me at the time, and such an offer... that kind of money would be enough to keep the clinic running for months and even allow me to find a tutor for Aliana's newfound... powers. It wasn't until the drow's boss came around that I realized what I had gotten myself into. That paleface of yours, she's called Morene, and I'll warn you right now: I don't think she's human. I've worked as a medic long enough to tell a dead-man from a living person, and yet, that pulse-less, breath-less corpse walked to the mural, scrawled some dates with blood of all things on the wall, and then covered the whole thing up with magic. After that, we got several shady figures walking by, stopping to look at the wall. It all changed last night. That ogre, Urukbarr's his name, came carrying the half-dead Cirith and nearly tossed her into my arms. Probably would have left her to bleed out at the door had he not found me smoking outside. Behind him was the man, Lein... something or other. That one's pale too, but I would still count him among the living. But he didn't care for her companion, what he came here to do was to reveal the mural once more, add some letters onto the dates, and cover the whole thing back up. Now I don't know what that was all about, but I know that before you came, several hooded figures started gathering on that street and heading into town, and I was thinking on closing shop for a few days already, even if you hadn't offer. You better be writing all this down, by the way." She added while tossing the consumed remains of her cigarette into the burnt planks of her once pristine living-room. It would seem she was the most eager to leave this place behind.

After that, she watched silently as the detectives discussed their next move, only talking to the police officers to make sure her belongings were already taken care of. In the meantime, Aliana also watched the two women with an almost fixed look, clutching her doll tight against her chest and shaking, turning away nervously whenever one of the detectives looked her way. It wasn't until Drea left that she dared talk again, shyly whispering to Ash: "Is... is that your friend? She is... kinda scary, but also very pretty. She... I think she's... like me."

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Drea made her way into the slums with the police officers close behind, having to stop here and there as many people decided to approach them, either to report something to the watchmen given the rare opportunity of having them actually patrolling the slums, or to try and sell them something. Drea was pretty sure she saw a small halfling child slide a hand into one of the officers pockets, but the man seemed experienced enough to realize this and stop the would-be pick-pocket with a slap on the wrist. Despite the rain and the constant noise of people and animals swarming the muddied streets, it was still easy enough to find their mark based on the sound of a dozen or so musicians competing for attention in a nearby open plaza, surrounded by several apartment buildings in varying states of disrepair, but all filled to the brim with young people.

It took a bit of asking around, between the artistic troupes and the tired-looking students walking by, but eventually the detective found the building Gilmore had pointed her towards, a precarious-looking three story hostel, which stood out due to the flowery vines on each window and balcony, all grown entirely too large and wild, but still looking beautiful enough for the guests to wish them to remain as they were. There had been an old lady at the door who didn't seem too happy at the idea of letting Drea inside, but while speaking to her, a rather handsome half-orc man approached the door and said "Hello there! Didn't mean to eavesdrop on you, but I am looking for Morgana as well. I haven't heard from her at all since the explosion, and I need to know if she's fine. Name's Dimash by the way, a pleasure to meet you." He added while offering his hand and flashing a nervous smile, but it is hard to pay much attention to how he acts, when the angelic voice he spoke with seemed to call for the sorceress complete attention.


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There was little pause between everyone's introductions, Valdur's request, and the sudden opening of the curtain from where the whispering was being heard. From within it emerged a darkly dressed human woman, of dark skin and even darker hair, quickly clearing her throat as she spoke. "That would be me, master dwarf. I am pleased you accepted our mistress' invitation, which I was merely a vessel for." And as she said this, a soft prayer could be heard around the room, with no discernible point of origin, and for the briefest of moments the woman's flesh turned into un-moving ivory, as the ever-watchful visage of the raven queen took hold of her factions. She then raised a hand just as white and beautiful to her lips, as if asking for silence, and then dissipated once more to reveal the stoic look of Nikté, priestess of the Raven Queen. "I can only hope that my own skills and knowledge will suffice to attend your plight this time around, good knight, for our lady has urgent matters to attend elsewhere. Pray tell, what is it that you and your clever friends have figured out since last you came here?"

The imposing presence that the cleric may have presented after such a display of connection to her deity was short-lived, however, as from the partition she'd come from the giggling of a young child could be heard, mocking her. "For the gods' sake Nikky, must you always play your part so seriously? Pffft, alright, alright, I guess my request can wait for later, but don't you go acting all hollier-than-thou while in a brothel, a minimum of self-awareness would do you well. After all, you are not high-priestess yet!" That voice was followed by the same young and anemic looking blonde girl that had greeted them the night prior and now winked at the detectives goodbye before closing the curtains once more, seemingly not wishing to take part of this particular meeting. After that interruption, the blood cleric sighed deeply, shook her head, and offered a much more honest smile as she talked once more. "Well, guess there's no use pretending now. I am really glad you came, and will do my best to try and help you. Just try and make it quick, because I should be looking over the logistics of the oncoming mass funeral for the victims of the Lyceum right about now, but I can always make some time for my friends."

Meanwhile, the two tieflings had been busy removing the pins and needles from Lucien's skin, which seemed to be a matter of routine for them. Once his body was free from the manifold iron kisses, the purple bloodhunter approached Lady Sorrel, just as two tall cups and a glass of wine materialized in his hands. "Oh, I am most pleased to received you within my humble walls. May I offer some fine wine for such a fine lady? I'll offer the gentleman too, though I can already imagine his answer." He said while filling both cups and offering one to both the bard and the bladesinger, drinking directly from the bottle himself as soon as he had one hand free. He then quickly turned to Valdur and said to him "So, these friends are not the same that walked in with you last night. Just how much do they know about our other line of business, and more pressingly, can they be trusted with that knowledge?" without bothering to mask his voice from his new guests.

Cindy, on the other hand, approached Elrohir with an outstretched arm, saying with a tired voice "So... I heard we didn't quite start off with the right foot last night, but I can appreciate someone trying to do the right thing, even through questionable means. That being said, if you try and charm me again, there wont even be enough left of you to bury. Are we clear?"
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Ashele scribbles quick notes in her elvish shorthand as the doctor explains her interactions with the evil adventuring party.

As she helps the doctor and her daughter into the carriage, she's heard to remark "You may be right, Aliana. I believe that your powers may be very similar to those of detective Sintklair. Driver, could you take us south?"


 

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As the Raven Queen shows herself to the group Elrohir is filled with an awe fuelled fear. Out of reverence he nearly fell prostrate. This goddess never ceased to amaze the old elf which left him wondering why he’d never encountered any other deities in a similar fashion over the course of his long life. Under his breath he whispered a prayer to the goddess of death once Nikte returned to her usual self.

“holy goddess, your immense presence calls me to you. I ask that you only allow me to serve.”

Then a young teifling approached Elrohir, their roles reversed.
“Cindy I am very very sorry. Had I known what this place truly was I would have been immeasurably more respectful. If there is any way I can make it up to you I will. That lesson reminded me not to judge something only by its outward appearance. I’ve grown complacent it seems. Not many things are as they seem yourself included.”





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Still at the Doctor'sIn answer to Dr. Luminaar'a's question, all Drea will respond with is her name and her old badge number, having not yet memorized her new badge number as a detective. "Officer Drea Sintklair. Badge 55023.

She had noticed the little girl starring at them, as she and Ash talked over their next steps. Fearing the girl's anger, she kept her eyes from drifting down to look at her. And when she left, she gave only a slight nod to the doctor.

Drea and the SlumsAs her group came to a final stop just inside the slums, Drea murmured a quiet, but sincere "Thank you." to the patrolmen assigned to her. She wasn't entirely comfortable being in charge, and almost began to chew her nails as they made their way through the slums. But Theresa took charge, and held her head high, and kept her arms at her sides. Her nails were saved!

Theresa didn't move too far ahead of the officers, allowing them to talk to the citizens who had complaint, or wares to sell. She even indulged a little, spending a silver on a couple tart candies; a cherry and an apple. As she snacked, they made their way, asking questions of those who'd talk, eventually finding Morgana's building. But the Old Lady wouldn't let them pass. Theresa gave the old woman a quick look at her badge. "Ma'am, I have charged with investigating the attack on the Lyceum. We simply need..."

But Theresa's next words were cut off by the approaching footfalls of a an impeccably mannered half-Orc. For a moment, Theresa was stunned.

~ *snap snap* Hey! Wake up. I think we're drooling.

~ We are not!
But even as she thinks this, she involuntarily touches her mouth to check. "I'm sorry... Did you say Dinesh?"

~ Dimash. Drea corrects.

"I mean, Dimash. The opera singer?" Theresa couldn't pull her gaze away from the young man's eyes. His voice captivated her, promised her safety, tenderness. All the things she had been denied in life.

She suddenly shook her head, then took a second look at him, with new eyes, and a different voice. "Mister Dimash, let's go inside and talk." Drea then turns her eyes back to the old lady. "Stand aside, or these friendly officers will book you for impeding an investigation. Understood?" Drea says
Dice Intimidation:
1d20+6 (10)+6 Total = 16
with authority "And if you don't want the door busted down, find me the landlord's set, or a humanoid good with a lock pick.. She waits for the Either willingly, or by force.woman to move, before heading up the stairs, allowing Dimash to escort her to Morgana's room.

"How'd you and Morgana know each other?" she asks as they head up. "Can you tell me some places that she may have gone? Somewhere she'd feel safe, if she needed to hide?"



 

 

 
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