Amoxtli (Part 2)
Downstairs the conditions leave much to be desired. The slaves are in packed together in stalls meant for the transportation of animals and guarded by dull-eyed oruch who wear collars around their necks suggesting that they are slaves themselves. By the look of them they've been slaves a long time.
It's a different story upstairs where the warmth of a carefully tended fire offers its glow to those in the bar area. Emerind is buying drinks for his table - or was before Gregor started buying for him. Trying to keep him talking about what happened. Keep him distracted. It's working famously because Emerind is clearly a bit of a braggart. He happily recounts his tale all over again for Gregor.
Gregor is not much of a socializer, but this fellow seems to have a low threshold for chatting and bragging, so Gregor will, through judicious use of coin to buy drinks and a vaguely receptive and suitably impressed attitude, keep the fellow going for as long as he can.
Delilah sits in the slave hold, on the bench where she has just enough space to be crammed in tightly. She sits leaning forwards, elbows resting on her thighs, and her wrists bound together with very real knots. Even if they weren't, she still has manacles on each wrist, with lengths of chain rattling off of each.
What a day.
The golden haired sorceress sits quietly, waiting for her sister and Gregor to get things sorted out -- with full knowledge that if they don't succeed, then she could well be getting sold on an auction block for a reasonable price in the near future.
Iuitl busies herself with the idle inspection of wounds and draconic chit-chat with the other sith-makar slaves. She provides healing to any that need it, though she can't do much for disease or disorder, only for wounds. She can't help it. She's gotta do something about their discomfort, somehow.
"Seriously," Donna murmurs to her compatriots as they are sat down, "don't start any ruckus yet. Too many folk could get hurt. But if y'can't help it... be loud an' distracting." Straightening, she turns, eyes briefly resting on the 'guards,' and makes her way out of the pen. And the moment no eyes are on her, it's quickly and quietly up to the rooms to suss out which is their target's.
And, with luck, where among his things is kept the egg.
The decor doesn't distress Elyanna to any real degree, she's been to too many of these to be squeamish. Instead, she continues to probe around, checking out the population to try and suss out who's a slave, who's a guard, and who's holding the whips. Otherwise she'll play traffic-stop for anybody who seems intent on going up the stairs.
One of the oruch guards notices Iuitl's actions and rouses himself enough to go over to her. "You have to stop doing that." His words are smile enough, and he doesn't seem angry with her, more tired and expecting her to listen without a fuss.
Meanwhile upstairs Emerind invites Gregor to his table and recounts a different story to him about a time that they decimated a tribe of sith-makar in a different location. "And what about you friend? What are you doing here?" He's not as drunk as he could be, but he's had a few drinks and it shows in the color on his face. There's absolutely no sign of the egg.
Gregor is eager for tales of raiding Sith, and of the great treasures he's heard about. "I'm a mercenary from Blar," he explains, and that's technically true, though he omits the bit about currently in the pay of the Alexandrian Adventurers' Guild. "So, you mainly fight the Sith, then?" he wonders. "Do they have much gold to them, or valuable goods? Or how do you make money fighting them?" he wonders.
Gregor will also join Emerind at his table, since he's been invited.
Iuitl pauses and looks up at him. She does stop, but she asks, "Why?" She is obviously not the most experienced slave, but she at least doesn't raise her voice about it. She's so small compared to most of the people in here, for a sith-makar.
GAME: Donna rolls stealth: (2)+8: 10 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d100: (16): 16
Surreptitious checks of the sleeping cabins upstairs finds most locked, which makes the brawler still more frowny. But an open door leads into an empty cabin... offering Donna no immediate options. Pausing, she looses an annoyed huff through her nose, then shakes her head, making her way back to the common room.
Delilah glances up, looking towards the Oruch talking to Iuitl. "Sit down," she half whispers. "Before you get hurt. Just do as you're told." That said, she goes back to staring at her feet. Or at least, pretending to stare at her feet, she's busy working out how to undo the knots around her wrists just in case she actually needs her arms free to, y'know, cast magic or something. ...Just in case. You can never be too careful. ...Damn, these knots are good though.
Elyanna pauses to inspect some of the slaves milling around to do the service/entertainment thing, the usual 'casual' inspection, particularly the ones that drift near the stairwell. She'll make the occasional request, or take a gander over at Gregor keeping Emerind busy, but until she gets some indication of how the search goes, she'll play connoisseur/speedbump to try and delay untoward discovery.
"Slaves belong to their masters. Their condition is up to their masters. Not to you." It sounds like something he's said a thousand times before. He nods toward Delilah. "Listen to her. Just sit down and wait for your master to return." He turns and walks away, clearly expecting to be listened to.
Someone passes by Elyanna, a man in a hooded cloak that ignores her entirely and heads upstairs only to bump into Donna on her way down. The man stops and grabs her by the arm gently and lowers his head toward her. "How much for the girl you brought in?" His voice is very quiet as he speaks to her.
Emerind nods to Gregor. Seeming to respect him. "The money is mostly in their young. You can sell them well for slaves. But the /eggs/. The Charnese will pay you their weight in gold for the eggs. Even an older one of those lizards is worth a few gold to the right Charnese wizard."
"Ain't mine to sell," Donna growls, eye narrowing as she looks up into the shadows of the hood.. "Talk to my boss. Price for not lettin' go of my arm? A finger every five seconds. Usually it's ten, but I gotta special goin'."
In case the hooded man doesn't take the hint, Donna shows a touch of mercy. "Four. Three."
Gregor ahhhhhs, nodding in understanding. "That's interesting. And much easier to control young or eggs than full-grown Sith," he observes, sipping his own drink. Now for a non-suspicious way to ask which room is his. But he can't think of any just yet. Maybe he'll just get the man drunk and help him back to his room when the time comes.
Iuitl grunts in understanding and sits back down. She looks at all of these people, her eyes trailing from one end of the room to the other, and her eyes slowly narrow at the suffering she witnesses in their faces, the despair in their eyes. A quiet, cold anger simmers in her face.
Donna might be surprised to note that the person touching her arm is in fact a rather tall and thin /elf/. Though his hood does well to hide his ears - not from someone looking up into it, but from the casual observer certainly. Hastily he lets go of her arm but entreets her just the same. "Who is your employer?" He looks toward Elyanna hopefully. "Is it you? My lord would like your girl. Whatever your price."
Emerind is nodding now. "Indeed. Also the magic they use is easier to use while the egg is still gestating. Or while the little lizard is still growing." He snorts. "They're dumb animals anyways, I've only met a few with actual fight in them. Most do your bidding about as well as a dog might. Though not half so happily!" He laughs.
GAME: Elyanna rolls knowledge/nobility: (15)+6: 21
Gregor looks genuinely surprised at Emerind's observations about the Sith. "I did not know that," he says completely truthfully. "That's a useful observation. Though an unhappy dog will snap at your hand, certainly an egg won't." Drink, buy round, ask about more stories, waste his evening until he's ready for bed.
"Boss is in the common room," Donna grinds. "She keeps'm in line, I keep everyone else in line. What's your boss want with our girl anyway?"
As she turns away, Elyanna may note the look in Donna's eye that says that this hooded elf's lord might be getting more knuckle-iron out of whatever deal he tries to make than he may be satisfied with.
There is a considering pause, as Elyanna's chin lifts a little imperiously, "Don't spin moonbeams for me, pet. Make an offer, if your master would invest so much worth in you."
The elf looks a little startled and then nods. "One thousand gold pieces. That's nine hundred more than you'll make on market. No questions asked. On our part... or yours." He looks at Donna and then gives Elyanna all his attention.
Emerind... is not drinking as fast as you might like. In fact he's done drinking and when he stands up to stretch he seems to be less drunk than you intended for him to be. "I should head off to bed. I'll have more money to spend come next week. You looking for work friend? I could use another bodyguard. One of mine took an arrow to the knee during the last bit here. Good money in it for you, and we're just headed back to Charn."
Gregor ehs? "Work?" Thinking fast, he'll nod, and he says, "That sounds like a good deal, then. Count me in." He'll rise as well, leaving his own drink unfinished. Presumably to escort the fellow back to his room.
For a long moment, Donna stands there, her back to the elf, pushing her anger down far enough that she can speak without damaging something, or someone. "Gonna get a drink," she finally grinds out, stepping into the common room to see... Gregor standing up with the target.
Aaaaand casually circle the floor to keep out of sight, headed toward the bar, hope that an opportune cluster of patrons can break line of sight so she can take another stab at shadowing...
GAME: Donna rolls stealth: (8)+8: 16 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+13: (20)+13: 33
Elyanna's eyebrow arches, "That didn't take long." She considers the elf, glancing only briefly at Donna in passing, then, "I doubt you'd be carrying so much, so I assume you have some intention of facilitating payment. Come, I'll hear you out." She starts to make her way back to the common room.
Delilah, for her part, is continuing to sit in the hold, elbows on her legs, looking down at her bare feet. She's discretely keeping an eye on the Oruch guards -- not that she wants to hurt any of them, mind you, she just really doesn't want things to go south and have them hurting her or her compatriots. She is, for the time being, blissfully unaware that her life is being bartered for at this very moment. ...But hey, whatever makes a good distraction so Donna can get her job done.
Emerind looks at Gregor a bit carefully. "You'll have to get your own room for the evening." He states this very firmly and as he turns to go notices Donna skirting him. Notices specifically... how familiar she looks as she ducks her head away from him. "Hey! Hey you! I know you!" He grabs for her arm and smiles viciously. "Boys! We've got an adventurer here!"
The crowd starts to rile and the elf scoots away from the main hall. "Perhaps... you'd care to join me in my room? I don't want to get involved with what's happening in there."
Gregor will have to get his own room, then? He nods slowly, and says, "Oh, sure. I wasn't sure if you wanted me to join up with your entourage now or what," he says ambivalently. We did get a room here, where was it, he tries to recall. But the direction he goes will take him belowdecks where he can collect the others.
GAME: Donna rolls cmb: (15)+7: 22
Drat! Elyanna subdues the urge to facepalm, though she does look somewhat back toward the common room before back to the elf, she says, "I need to protect my wares in case things get too lively. I will join you once things have settled. What room are you staying in?" She sidesteps Gregor as he makes his way along, expecting he'll be doing what she was about to. "The *hell you say?!*" Donna responds, whipping her arm away from the man's grasp and aiming a knee toward his soft meats. The knee is poorly-aimed, sadly, but her thunderous outrage remains clear on her face. "Who the shit are you calling an adventurer, you dribbling otyugh? Hands to yourself if you like'm."
Okay so maybe being sneaky didn't work, perhaps lying may?
GAME: Donna rolls bluff: (3)+6: 9
"Room sixteen." The elf says, then quickly hurries up the stairs and out of the way of what's about to happen downstairs. Gregor will find his way blocked by several very large oruch who have no intention of letting him by.
Donna however is in a pickle because her lie is clearly written on her face in spite of her bold words, and Emerind's drawing his sword on her for having the gaul to try and kick him. "I'm calling you one, I recognize you. Tell me where the rest of your misfit friends are and maybe we'll let you go aye?" He grins at her and some of the other patrons are arming themselves as well... "Personally, I'd just as soon see you down in the haul with the other slaves."
GAME: Gregor rolls intimidate: (10)+8: 18
Gregor gets his bluster up, and his voice shifts a bit. None of his allies have heard his speaking-to-recruits voice, but when he was with the Blar army, there were always new recruits who needed to be yelled at to get them straightened out, and he's in that sort of a mode as he chews out the orcs, "What do you mean I can't go down there. My slaves are there, too, and I'm going to check on them. Or are you buying them off me? That's gonna cost you a pretty penny, if you want to go that way. But I'm gonna go down there now, and you slackers had better step back out of my way or things will not go well, mark my words." They won't go well for Gregor, in particular, but hopefully his shouting at the guards will rouse his companions.
Delilah can hear yelling, but can't hear what's going on. One thing, however, is entirely certain; yelling is not the sign of anything good happening. "Wait here," She whispers to her fellow 'slaves', before she slinks up to her feet. She keeps her ostensibly bound hands in front of her as she picks her way along the wall of the hold, trying to get to where she can get a good look at what's going on, without alerting the guards. Maybe? Just maybe.
GAME: Elyanna rolls intimidate: (10)+11: 21
Always something. Elyanna's descent to 'see to the wares' runs into the two roadblocks that intercepted Gregor. Her leather whip slithers free of it's coils to whisper harshly against the deck as the red woman bares a carnivore's sneer, "We will fetch our wares, dogs, now -STAND-ASIDE-!" <yrch-speak>
"You look like that girl I captured protecting the lizards. Come on now, tell me where they are and you'll live to see tomorrow." Emerind levels his weapon at Donna. "Don't, and I'll see you with a pretty rope strung around that neck of yours."
Down in the holds the oruch are desperate, their hands well away from the weapons they use to keep the slaves in line. "Please. Our master will /kill/ us. Go get the one who brought them down here. We can release your slaves to them." The ourch speaking has a halting accent, but he speaks well enough, and he's begging you to reconsider your demands.
Well sneaking didn't work, lying didn't work, and fighting seems like a good way to make Delilah an only child. Donna's eyes flick left and right to the gathering slavers, and lifts a finger. "'Kay, see, thing about that is..."
And she hops onto a chair, the table next to it, over the crowd behind her, and skedaddles out the door. Very visibly, very obviously.
GAME: Gregor rolls 1d20+8: (2)+8: 10
Iuitl approaches the commotion where Gregor is, and says, "Are we leaving now, Sir?" She makes a rather hammy show of dipping her head and making sure she's not making too much eye contact. Of course, it won't help if this all immediately goes wrong.
Gregor turns as he sees Iuitl coming up the stairs, and he draws his longsword, but then he turns on the orcs and thrusts. Unfortunately the close quarters spoils his attack, and the tip of his blade catches in a wooden ship part. Gregor's not used to fighting on ships. Belatedly, he answers her, "Yes."
GAME: Delilah rolls diplomacy: (1)+12: 13 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Delilah rolls diplomacy: (9)+12: 21
Delilah breaks her cover, and approaches the Oruch guards with a quick patter of bare feet. "Sir, sir," she gasps, laying her hands lightly on the muscular arm of one of the guards. "Sir, please... Please. The woman who brought us into the hold works for this man, he is our rightful master. Please, don't fight him, please, it will only bring trouble." She looks up at Gregor, and Elyanna, and then steps back, dropping her arms and her gaze straight down. "I'm sorry, I spoke out of turn. Please... please don't hit me."
GAME: Elyanna rolls diplomacy: (5)+3: 8 GAME: Elyanna rolls diplomacy: (11)+3: 14
"We are taking them, now. If you wish a better future for yourself, you'll drop your keys and get to the cut in the eastern rise." Elyanna offers, flicking a glance to their companions in the cage, "Travel light." <yrch-speak>
Several of the patrons take off after Donna. All of them in fact take chase with the exception of Emerind himself who looks around the empty room, picks up the bottle of wine on the table, and saunters off to his room in a self-congratulatory manner. Only the bartender remains now, looking a little irritated that his customers are all gone now.
Below decks the oruch look at one another and then at you. "If you knock out the barkeep. We will do this for you. We will let you take whatever slaves you want and we will go, but if he catches us we're worse than dead."
GAME: Gregor rolls intimidate: (6)+8: 14
Allowing herself a few dozen curse words to lament that Emerind isn't among her pursuers, Donna pelts down the docks. A dockhand carrying a crate of chickens is smoothly avoided, haulers carrying plate glass circumvented... Pausing, she turns to wave to the mob on her tail. "Oi, slugwits! Ain't you got people for runnin' for ya?"
Gregor looks around, puzzled, but nods and says, "I guess I'll go and see about the bartender, then. He'll tromp back up the stairs, sword still out but he hasn't put back the drill instructor demeanor, and so when he says to the bartender, "Tell me where Emerind's room is, slug!" it's a bit more deadpan than intimidating. Gah, fine, he'll just have to stab the guy. He was gonna do that to free the slaves anyhow.
GAME: Delilah rolls bluff: (5)+13: 18 GAME: Iuitl rolls Diplomacy: (8)+7: 15
"Glad to hear you're on board." Delilah speaks with a good deal more iron in her voice than she has up until now; and she goes as far as to wriggle her wrists out of the ropes, and tilt her head to one side until the vertebrae crack audibly. "You seem like nice boys," she adds to the orcs, "And I'm not really a slave, so I'm going to go help them out. Maybe we should just steal the ship?" She shrugs, before she turns and lets bare feet carry her up and out of the hold, to join Gergor in front of the barkeep.
As Delilah approaches, her eyes flash a brilliant blue and the brands on her arm flare into like brilliance. She taps the bar with one fingertip. "Listen," she states, quietly. "Nevermind anything else. Tell us where Emerind's room is and then get off this boat, run, and don't look back. Or I can promise you you're going to die and it's going to hurt real bad the whole time you're dying."
GAME: Delilah rolls intimidate: (1)+5: 6 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: {*} Delilah rolls intimidate: (9)+5: 14
"It's time." For something. Elyanna turns from the oruchs to tromp up the stairs to deal with the barkeep... just in time for Delilah to put the fear of magecraft into his soul. She watches his response and turns back to give the update that, "He's no longer an issue." With that, she holds out a hand for the keys.
The oruch don't hesitate, giving up the keys and leaving the boat as quick as their feet can carry them. They won't stop till they've reached the 'promised land' of the place Elyanna promised to meet them later. Leaving you all with a ship full of wide-eyed captives and Emerind.
Iuitl tried convincing the oruchs, but the situation is evolving quickly even after her failure. She thought she was pretty convincing, but apparently without palpable proof, 'I can sear the flesh from his bones' is just an empty promise. She left it at that. But now that they have the ship to themselves... "Alright, enough of -this-," and she undoes her binds, and marches right up to where the right room is with the others. She digs in her pockets to produce what looks like a small piece of iron in preparation to cast a spell the moment she sees Emerind.
GAME: Gregor rolls strength: (8)+3: 11 GAME: Gregor rolls strength: (11)+3: 14
BOOM! You've all headed upstairs now, having freed the slaves and set their fears at ease as best you can. All of you but Donna who's still leading them on a merry chase through the village. BOOM! The door jolts but doesn't give in. "GO AWAY!" Shouts Emerind from behind the door, and Gregor keeps at it until the door splinters and you behold the sight of Emerind choking the life out of the poor elvish slave that Elyanna and Donna spoke to earlier. His face is molted red and so is Emerind's. Emerind glares at the doorway like it insulted him personally and you savor the first taste of victory. You've caught him totally and completely unprepared.
GAME: Iuitl casts Hold Person. Caster Level: 5 DC: 16 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+10: (20)+10: 30 GAME: Iuitl casts Hold Person. Caster Level: 5 DC: 16 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+10: (6)+10: 16
Iuitl mutters an arcane word, waves around the iron piece and casts a spell! And it fails. Then she does it again! "Damn it!!" she snaps, and starts digging for something else in her robes... Yeah she's having a bad day. <draconic>
GAME: Iuitl rolls 1d100: (49): 49 GAME: Delilah casts Web. Caster Level: 5 DC: 17 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20: (10): 10 GAME: Gregor rolls perception: (13)+7: 20
So, the door is open, and the plan didn't entirely work because somehow the bastard Emerind didn't get paralyzed like he was supposed to. Did someone not fill him in on his part of the plan? Did he not get the memo? What the heck. "Don't worry, I got it."
Delilah's eyes and tattoos flare to brilliance, as she draws a glowing design in the air in front of her. Actually, it's kind of a tangled design. Actually, really, it's not a design at all, just a tangle. When she's finished, it coalesces into a glob of goop that lobs across the room, hits Emerind and pretty much everything around him, and more or less glues him to his own bed.
"Hah!" shouts Delilah, shaking one hand with extended finger at Emerind. "That'll teach you to put a bit in my mouth and manacle me!"
Gregor stumbles into the room after pushing through the door. He does a quick scan, and doesn't see what we're here for. But there's a big closet. And the fellow did say how valuable the eggs were, so it's got to be here someplace.
Elyanna considers the scene and pulls the scabbard with her falchion from her belt, holding it out to her side. With cold, almost glacial dispassion, she glances sidelong to the sith and squeezes the scabbard, forcing the weapon to hiss slightly as it exposes a sliver of polished steel.
Once the egg is secure, Delilah casts her eyes about the room; and there is the first thing she's looking for, a little bundle that looks like her stuff. She collects her hat first, plopping that neatly on top of her head; her gun and holster she secures to her leg, and the rest she just... picks up. She's not going to strip off and get changed here, afterall.
The other thing that interests her is Emerind's sword, and that is spotted as well. She picks that up, holding it up in the air with... well, she doesn't hold it particularly steady. "Always wanted to try one of these things," she comments, holding it out with the point towards Emerind.
And it connects. Was that on purpose? "Oops," she comments, dryly, as she withdraws a couple inches of sword from the man's stomach. "Sorry. Did that hurt? I hate slavers." She steps back and swings the big blade up to rest on her shoulder (with the flat). "Maybe you shouldn't go around hurting people either? Just saying." She glances sideways at Iuitl, Macu, and Elyanna as she backs off; she notes the offer that's been made, looks up at Iuitl, and gives the patented 'your call' shrug.
Iuitl doesn't speak a word. She stops fiddling in the pockets of her robes for her arcane materials, and reaches out to grab the falchion. It slides out and makes her lurch from a weight she isn't used to... but she isn't so feeble that it actually makes her stumble. She holds the falchion in her hand off hand, and smiles at Emerind. She smiles in the way that even scares her own people when she gets really, really angry. Because it's mirthless, primal and psychotic. And utterly silent, not a single peep of laughter or even a witty one-liner. Then she brings the falchion up over her head, and just starts chopping until her arms get tired or she's forced to stop.
Pure hate coats the room red.
-End