Café de Nuit

Vasili finds Leila with Marcel and Altan working on the body of Feray; it seems to be rather difficult work, but the ghastly wound at her neck is somewhat more consistent with a self-inflicted wound. Marcel looks up and says something--probably something rather rude--in Souragnien dialect, then looks relieved. "Oh. It's you, Master Boritsi. We're making some progress on your plan, I think, but it's slow going. Do we have much time?"

The huntsman Zoltan, having caught up to his charges, supplies an additional keeper for the mage and berserker you have apprehended (as well as keeping the hellhounds in line, though they seem to like Avram fairly well). "So, wot's been going on down here, goodman?" he asks Avram quietly.

Nathan of the FoS wrote:Yarek nods in response Lena's greeting, his eyes on Agata. Shuddering slightly, he says in a low voice, "Maybe you should take her up, Baroness. I'm not sure...I think I'd better turn back. I'm sure Helja will be able to help her."

Richard nodded and murmured the words on the scroll, the incantation putting Agata out of danger... from the poison, at least. "<Mordentish> This is a-a trying time for all of us, but I-I think it must be so for a while longer. Baroness, I-I believe you heard my-my opinions on the matter of-of the rest of the cultists. Please, please send those regards to the Landsyf when you see her."

"Let-let us go," he said quietly to Yarek, turning back into the tunnels. "There are-are others that still need to be found."

The spell lasts for 3 hours, and the poison won't affect her or advance until the duration is up.

Lena nodded once to Richard, but then paused. "The Landsyf, unfortunately, is going to be surrounded by Inquisitors just at the present, and I'd rather not discuss Wedding Veil -- delightful name, that -- in their hearing. Are there any other healers in Helholt who you trust?"

Without or without a name, Lena cast a look at Agata, took the young woman by the hand, and headed up.

Lena's course of action is:
1) If given a name of a healer, go find that healer (by simple expedient of grabbing a servant and asking them).
2) Otherwise, heading up somewhere private with Agata in tow, and just sort of... waiting and sipping punch.
3) In either case, once Ushka's finished her tunnel explorations, send her after Helja -- the moment Helja is de-Inquisitored, Lena wants to talk to her.

Nathan of the FoS wrote:Vasili finds Leila with Marcel and Altan working on the body of Feray; it seems to be rather difficult work, but the ghastly wound at her neck is somewhat more consistent with a self-inflicted wound. Marcel looks up and says something--probably something rather rude--in Souragnien dialect, then looks relieved. "Oh. It's you, Master Boritsi. We're making some progress on your plan, I think, but it's slow going. Do we have much time?"

Vasili gives Marcel a sympathetic half-smile. That the anchorite was uncomfortable with the task spoke well of his character. "I believe there is a saying in Dementlieu: <Upper Mordentish>'When injustice rules, justice is high treason, and mercy will get you the stocks.'

Surveying their handiwork, Vasili nods. "I think it will have to do. You had best make yourselves scarce. The rest is up to me...and Leila. Altan, if you've any other talent for such mischief, now's the time."

Vasili waits only a moment for the others to leave before turning to converse with Leila.

<You didn't alter Agata's memories and send her to the Inquisition...> Leila asks. The unspoken question hangs between them.

<The risk was too great. We'll only do that if we have no other choice.>

<What risk! She was already on death's door. Any injuries you inflicted would have been incidental--she'd never even feel them. The inquisition would heal her injuries, restore her mind, and the altered memories would hide the presence of wedding veil. She'd confirm your story!>

<You presume. And if you were wrong-->

<She'd be only as dead as she would have been without your help, except with a corroborating story should they speak with her ghost! It was the perfect way to buy more time!>

<We have enough time. If we had more, we'd probably spend it discussing how you know Horst.>

<...>

<I was sharing your senses during that point, remember? So I could find my way to the caves. Maybe I should share your senses more often, when you are afield. I might learn some things.>

<...I...he...it was a long time ago...>

<Apparently. I thought it strange that he would have forgotten. A talking lynx with human eyes is pretty hard to forget. What would be easier to forget is that you once had another form. He met you when you were a human, didn't he?>

<You--We don't have time for this!>

<That would mean when I was not even a student at the Red Academy, but still just a subject of study.>

<STOP IT! I hear them coming!>

<Liar. But then, you are what I made you.... I shouldn't be surprised when you tell me what I want to hear. Just think of all the cozy lies you could spin for me if I had bought us more time by cutting up Agata and violating her memories.>

<You...you don't care about Agata! You didn't do it because of what your precious Lena would think of you!>

<Perhaps so. You said, after all, that the problem was that I care too much. Perhaps I should just accept that it's so. And so should you.>

Telepathy being what it is, the entire conversation had only taken a few seconds. Now it was time for their impostor. He began the incantation to chance his physical form, but once he had cast the spell, he held the arcane energies in himself for a moment, pushing them deeper, across the connection to his other self. The one that had split off when his mind had become unhinged. When he had pretended his best friend into existence.

And there she was again. Leila Pomaar, as she had appeared years ago when he had needed first needed her to speak for him. Except now she was the one who was scared and alone, crouched in the darkness to cover her nakedness. Was this what it took for him to become strong? To draw back all the strength he had put into her, and leave her wasted and broken?

He handed her a blade and nodded to Feray's corpse. <I trust you can match your handiwork. Despite everything, I don't doubt your loyalty, so I know you'll make a grand performance. I'll be ready to unsummon you if...your final cut isn't deep enough.>

He knelt down to look her in the eyes. <Then, when all this is over, I'll bring you back, and we are going to have a long talk. We'll set it all right again.> He waited for her slow nod, and then gave her the best smile he could muster. He refused to lie, but he had to give her something to look forward to.

Leaving her to mutilate herself, Vasili fled the scene. Not wanting to risk running into the inquisition on the way out, he ran deeper into the caves, hoping to follow after Afram and his company.

Alter Self, targeted on Leila to turn her into a humanoid again.

Zoltan wrote:"So, wot's been going on down here, goodman?"

Avram rolled his eyes a bit and sighed -- not at the huntsman's question, it seemed, but at the night's events in general. "Something too muddled for anyone of my years to keep straight ...though, as I think on it more, I am surer and surer that age has nothing to do with it. I know that we are to bring these gentlemen--" a nod to their charges "-- to Freiherr Thott, and safely. Beyond that..."

A shrug. "...If there is any idea I have, it is that the less we know, the happier we will be."

Leila: "So...it's down to just us cats. Perhaps that's as it should be. I need to know: how well suited are your talents to mischief?"

Altan: "As much as any cat's. Especially cats with six legs and tentacles."

Leila: "I'm glad to hear that. This is our hour, I hope, when cats will set things right with a grand farce. Do you have a specialty in the arcane arts?"

Altan: "I am adept at making people see things my way, in more ways than one."

Leila: "Indeed. It's said that no cat out of its first fur ever gave anyone a straight answer, and you must be on your seventh at least. Very well; in less than five minutes, I'll be committing suicide to fool the Inquisition to see things my way. That's my commitment. What about you? Do you want to see them fooled? And what are you prepared to risk?"

Altan: Altan's eyes narrowed for a split second before his cool demeanor returned. "I am not prepared to risk my life or my reputation," he said flatly. "I would just as soon avoid their notice entirely."

Leila: "I apologize. I know there is some history there, but I wasn't sure if you wanted revenge or not."

Altan: Altan smiled a small smile. "Vengeance would be delicious. But I have since learned it is easier to stay away. Out of sight, out of mind. What do you propose?"

Leila: "Well, that's the problem. To make a proposal, I need to know what you are able to commit, and what you are willing to risk. Currently, I haven't enough of either. Let's try this: we're going to get the inquisition in here to see that this is a Penitent ceremony gone bad, complete with a suicidal Feray. Any ideas how you could enhance that? Tweak the surrounding context to make it more believable?"

Altan: "The Inquisition is adept at seeing through ruses," Altan pursed his lips. "I have my knife, and I have some magic to mend broken things. Beyond that, I have little they will not see through."

Leila: "You limit your thinking far too much, fellow cat! Let dogs run in long kennels, happy to be in a cage with meat and drink and a pat on the head. What you describe is the Inquisition's strength, and their weakness! What if they were not the ones who needed to see through the ruse? What if they were approached by someone who gave honest testimony...who had been fooled?

"If you were to use your talents on a few of the other guests, especially ones who had been down here, seen things they shouldn't...could you not deceive them into giving sincere testimony to the Inquisition? How could the Inquisitors see through that?"

"The knife we'll accept as well, by the way. I fear Feray's actual blade has departed prematurely."

Altan: Altan raised a brow. "Clever. Very clever." He pulled out his dagger and handed it to Leila. The weapon was a simple object, of good make but otherwise unremarkable. "Very well. I can speak with the guests and tell them a story. I'm certain they'll find me captivating. Do you already have a story in mind?"

Leila: "Let's work on one together. We've tried to leave that part open to improvisation later. Seems about time for that.

"So, to start, the cult that was meeting here were Petitioners, not Slaves. What's a proper motive to drive one of them from self-mutilation to suicide? Would it be plausible that Feray destroyed herself in an attempt to call down Yutow's wrath on the meddling inquisition?"

Altan: "I can make it plausible," Altan smiled. "After all, how many of them would know better? Perhaps she cut a little too deep."

Leila: "Okay, so most of that part will be mine to sell, as I play the part of Feray in her last moments. I'll call upon Yutow to accept me as a sacrifice, call down the wrath upon these meddlers who cannot leave us in peace. Then I'll slash my own throat, fall over and die."

Leila says this with perfect deadpan, by the way, as if describing what she ate for dinner last night.

"What would support this story among the other guests? It would be simple enough to spread stories of others seeing scars on Feray's arms and hands, remind people of them. It would be good to have people remember that Feray was alive moments before the inquisition arrived, so if you could start a rumor of her running around above half-dressed, angry that the Inquisition were here meddling where they should not, that would be wonderful."

Altan: "I will include mention of her madness in the rumor. Has she been seen before this madness began?"

Leila: "Truthfully, I know not. Less is more, I suppose, but I'll leave that to YOUR improvisation. I--"

Here Leila's mouth snaps shut, and her lips draw together as if tasting something bitter.

"He didn't do it...

"Altan, dear, I don't suppose you are able to modify memories? Either with a spell or through hypnosis?"

Altan: "Only ones that just passed. Why?"

Leila: "Vasili just passed up a perfect chance to dupe the inquisition. Agata has been found up above, with an overdose of Wedding Veil that threatens to kill her. I told him to rewrite her missing memories and drop her on the Inquisition as more evidence of Penitents at work--without the amnesia, they would mistake the Wedding Veil for normal opium and cure her."

Altan: "A shame. Would that I could help more with that. I can, however, do my best to mislead and suggest the Penitents are behind more than appears. I have quite the winning personality when I put a little effort into it."

Leila: Leila smiled, a disturbing sight from a lynx with human eyes. "I don't doubt it at all. When the Inquisition has been properly embarrassed by this fiasco and departed in shame, perhaps the two of us will get to know each other better. We'll find out how much that personality can win, with a little effort."

NeoTiamat wrote: Lena nodded once to Richard, but then paused. "The Landsyf, unfortunately, is going to be surrounded by Inquisitors just at the present, and I'd rather not discuss Wedding Veil -- delightful name, that -- in their hearing. Are there any other healers in Helholt who you trust?"

"Not who I would trust, no," Yarek replies. "Just...keep her away from the Inquisition and wait for Helja. Thank you for your help with her, Freiherr Blackwood."



"You're a priest as well as a warrior, then?" Yarek asks Richard after they have parted from the Barovian and her charge. "Something ilke our [igudkaede[/i]?"

The Whistler wrote: "...If there is any idea I have, it is that the less we know, the happier we will be."

"Often the way of it," Zoltan grunts. "Ah, there's the master. Freyer Thott!"

Further up the passage, Søren turns; he has a small number of people, mostly Mulani, some obviously drugged and others more alert, seated on the ground near him and watched over by a pair of hellhounds. As you approach another figure staggers up the tunnel, closely herded by two more of the infernal dogs.

"Ah, Zoltan. And...Avram. And...company. Care to share your names, friends?" This ironic invitation is directed to Mulani accompanying the Rashemani men. He continues, speaking mostly to Zoltan, "I'm collecting them here for the time being. I'm not sure whether we'll have to let some of them sleep it off before we move them. Any news?"

Nathan of the FoS wrote:"You're a priest as well as a warrior, then?" Yarek asks Richard after they have parted from the Barovian and her charge. "Something like our gudkaede?"

"I-I-I fear I-I am not familiar enough with that title to-to answer your question honestly," Richard replied. "I-I-I know two Lawgiver churchmen, I-I called them dommer. In truth I-I do not know what their true titles were, or are, for I-I think they have changed since I-I last saw them. But they-they-they..."

Richard sighed. "I-I do not think they were much like me."

He gave a mercurial laugh, a moment later. "Certainly, they-they made it very clear they would not be-be mending anyone's wounds. 'Not that kind of priest,' they were very firm! I-I-I think they must have gotten one too many a-a request. As-as for myself, I-I studied as both warrior and priest. I-I sometimes feel it left-left me terribly ill at being both. Had I-I been born with a-a mind stronger than my sword arm, I-I would have been a happier man, and my-my family likewise! But I-I-I was not, and I-I must be what I-I was meant to be. Ezra, in her kindness, grants me some measure of-of power, and it-it serves when the rest of me fails."

Freiherr Thott wrote: Any news?"

What a question. Avram gave Zoltan a quick glance, doing his best to communicate “get ready for a fantastic cover story” with his eyes, then addressed Soren.

“Only, Freiherr, that it seems the late Sgt. Arslan is in fact a follower of Yutow, instead of whatever else one might have thought her – and indeed, that she will no doubt have passed on of self-inflicted wounds by the time the Inquisition happens upon her. Perhaps as the Inquisition happens upon her. Also, that her disciples are also devout followers of Yutow. Is that not right, gentlemen?” A look at the Mulani in question.

Back to Soren. Avram’s mental exhaustion was starting to show on his face. “If there is anything I cannot answer for you about these affairs, Master Boritsi and the others can. In the meanwhile, Freiherr, I am at your service – though, if you have found any drugs that are not painkillers about, in these tunnels, it has been said that they might be best hidden. I am told that followers of Yutow, devout as they are, do not use such things.”

"Whose idea…never mind. Worshippers of Yutow, yet. I guess that's…slightly better. So we have to find wherever they were having the main event, so to speak, and make it look like the Penitents were there."

Surveying the group before him with distaste, Søren mutters, "Whips. We'll have to send somebody for whips. Very well. All of you!" he snaps. "You've been down here worshipping Yutow. That's what the Inquisition is going to hear. So! Let's make it look good, shall we? A little scarification, some flagellation. Anybody know the right stuff?"

One of the prisoners, a young Mulani woman with the sunflower totem who's a bit more alert than most, says, "I know a little. They do a little thing like this," she curves her hands into parentheses, "for the hands of Yutow. On your lower back or the inside of your thigh. And lots of shallow cuts on the arms and stomach, and the flagellation."

"Is that so?" Søren says coolly. "Well. Get to it, then. Knives out."

"We had, uh, restraints. And lashes," a middle-aged Mulani man with some rodent-like totem says. "For…you know."

"Go get them. Pyrra, Ahriman, accompany the gentleman and make sure he comes back. Master Zoltan, I think we'll have you administer the celebrants' flagellation."

"As you like, Freyer," Zoltan replies, an amused gleam in his eye.

"Do you know enough about the Penitents to make the thing look realistic?" Søren asks Avram, "Poppy", and the mage with them. "If you do, you might go arrange the scene."


Just in case you've lost track, which would be perfectly understandable, the two Mulani who came with Avram and Zoltan are "Poppy"--the woman with the poppy tattoo who ran up to help Søren when Yarek and Feray had downed him--and the mage who cast stinking cloud on you in the last round of the fight.

"They can all be called dommer," Yarek notes. "Probably they said that to avoid confusion. Or…" he pauses, then shrugs. "You seem to have accounted for yourself pretty well as both warrior and priest tonight, at any rate. Who were these dommer friends of yours, anyway?"

Nathan of the FoS wrote:"Who were these dommer friends of yours, anyway?"

Richard hesitated, but seemed to shrug. It was no secret. "Cy-cyrus and Darius Isfahani," he said, mispronouncing their names ever so slightly.

NINJA



Deep, deep in the tunnels of the Helholt--tunnels which, according to legend, lead to Hell itself--Avram and Vasili do their best to direct a few Mulani and Rashemani "helpers" in disposing of the more indulgent evidences of the Slaves' rites, using simple magics to efface the blasphemous representation of the Lawgiver and replace it with the shadowed form of Yutow, gathering delicacies and drugs and disposing of them.

Not far away, Zoltan, grinning, plies the lash over the huddled figures of the cultists; Søren keeps an eye on proceedings and directs the hellhounds, who chivvy the cultists they have found to this gathering point, where they await their castigation.



Guided by the infernal dogs themselves, Marcel and Altan make their way downward to where the cultists have been gathered.



From another quarter Yarek and Richard do the same.



Far above them, Lena sits in her room; Agata lies collapsed on the bed, asleep or in a state of stupor no less incapacitating. The Barovian baroness has asked to have Helja informed of her whereabouts as soon as the Landsyf is no longer attended by the Inquisition, and not a moment before; having done this she can but sit and wait, conversing with her familiar, considering what has happened and laying plans for the morrow.



Shivering in the darkness, the creature born of Vasili's mind who thinks of herself as Leila Pomaar awaits the sound of Renhalt's voice and the lights that will accompany the coming of the Inquisition. Testing the blade again, she lifts it to her throat, not quite letting it touch her skin, and practices her stroke one final time.

The muffled sound of feet approaching--a light, and Renhalt's voice. "There she is!"