Our four noble heroes, along with their two new friends Florian and Donato de la Ballesteros, made their way from the bower of blades northward, heading for the borderland between Seri and Scornbul - the shadow area between the two quarters where the constructions felt close but had not yet merged into the mazes of the docks. There the sextet shared dinner at a lovely restaurant, enjoying the spiced fish and pasta dishes common to the north while they discussed recent events. Donato reassured Hiram that Raul would likely make no more than one attempt to settle affairs with the young actor, applying another insult or finding some pretense for another duel - not to worry, he had never known his cousin to deny the presence of a healer at such an encounter. Hiram was little reassured. Donato informed Melas, however, that Victor would likely hate him to the grave. Melas shrugged at this, taking it as being an expected thing of no consequence.
At Cybele's request Florian outlined what he did on a day-to-day basis: he, Raul, and Dontao were all part of the larger de la Ballesteros family, and when his and Raul's father died Raul would inherit. Therefore, Florian occupied himself as latter sons did - having let his elder cousin Donato make the decision to join the priesthood he prepared himself, albeit with little interest, for the army. Someday. If nothing else, he prepared his blade for combat. Glancing over Florian's features, the lady Floriane could see the similarities between the brothers, save with Raul being dark everywhere that his sibling was fair.
At Florian's return request for information on how this quartet began traveling together, Hiram took up the bulk of the conversation, reciting a masterful blank verse oration of their adventures to date, beginning with Hightower Tor and opening with the 11th form's classic line "it was a dark and stormy night." (Dave: 20! I dazzle them! Me: you were probably composing it in your head for days. Dave: well, sure, but much of it is extemporaneous.) The cousins are indeed awestruck at the recitation and the adventures it contained, but early on our friends caught the two sharing glances, as if communicating some private joke or plan. Since there seemed no animosity in the men, they trusted that they would be made aware of the humor in due course. And, with the last of the wine finished the cousins suggested with broad grins that the group head further into the warrens to see what was playing at the Dock and Boards - one of the small local theatres. All save Melas agreed - the hunchback claimed fatigue and graciously retired for the evening (Since Jim couldn't make the session).
As the group wound further into the heart of the chaotic city they witnessed scenes that would be unthinkable in the more staid and civilized north: the sheer press of humanity, the children running unaccompanied through the streets in the evening, the taverns that were little more than bars open to the street, the scrum of sailors who were on land for just the night and no doubt intended to spend all of it drinking, carousing with those of loose virtue, or both, all walking side by side with respectably dressed merchants and tradesmen of all races and milling around the movement of goods from one warehouse, ship, or business establishment to another all in a time after dark when to the south only the night servants would be about on the streets quietly preparing businesses for the next day. It was both exhilarating and terrifying in its spectacle, but our group was never threatened, as only the foolish would approach such people of obviously noble bearing - and sporting such obviously well-honed blades - with course intentions (Tom: no, they'll lure us further in where they can ambush us at their leisure).
Snagging the attention of one of the local youths Florian ascertains that the Dock and Boards had not changed shows and that there was another production due to start in an hour. Smiling broadly, the fair-haired gentleman led his companions into a busy tavern that catered to both the adventurous noble and the recently paid sailor alike. Obviously regular customers, he and Donato had no problem securing space at the bar for the four and drinks were ordered to while away the time until the show. While Donato and Dietrich discussed matters of religion and politics, Cybele and Hiram scanned the crowd to take in such a diverse group of humanity, both of them had their eyes alight on a figure at one of the far tables: wearing the navy blue cloak of the Water Church with a hood pulled up in an effort to obscure his features, the figure had obviously not reckoned on the light from the tables candle, which quite undid the effect, clearly marking his blond hair, half-elven brow, piercing eyes and once broken nose. The figure was in earnest conversation with a handful of rough looking sailors, obviously trying to convince them of the validity of some endeavor. Glancing back a few moments later they saw the man had unfolded a map onto the table, trying and failing to obscure it from any who might glance over. Cybele nudged Florian, who uttered a simple 'what is he doing here?" before changing the conversation back to the subtle grace of Cybele's wrists, which he had already witnessed first had this evening but would not, as a gentleman, allow himself to more closely observe without permission. Under this onslaught Cybele found she had quite lost the thread of her questioning.
Hiram, experienced as he was in the theater, saw something quite different (Dave: 20! Again!). No one could be as inept at subtlety as this fellow appeared, and the nature of his placement in the room, the careful pitching of his stage whisper to carry just far enough without being obvious, the eye-catching gesture of unfolding and re-folding the map, all bespoke of a trained stage professional. Whoever this fellow was, he was going to great lengths to be noticed as someone who wanted not to be noticed. (Tom: I wonder what alley they're going to drag that idiot's body out of tomorrow? Dave: I think it might be the other way around… Tom: well, someone's getting set up, I'm just glad it's not us). He carefully avoided being entangled in this matter any further, not mentioning his observations to his friends even as they left the bar and approached the Dock and Boards - Hiram's first exposure to Emirkolian Theater. Looking like one of a thousand similar Peoples Playhouses across the republic, the marquee revealed the cousins' joke: "Pedro and Pierre Loot Hightower Tor"!
The group worked their way through the crowds at the Dock and Boards to some of the second-floor boxes, gladly paying the small additional fee to be away from the huggermugger of the tired, tipsy mass of humanity. Steady-footed halflings moved through the crowd selling ale, and the whole building was redolent with stale spirits. "I'm sure you can land somewhere better than this" Cybele assured her dramatic friend. "Oh, in intend to" Hiram replied. Then he took a moment to explain the finances of playhouses (the play is a loss leader, the money is in the beer and food) and how that works into the enduring nature of Pedro and Pierre tales (broadly humorous crowd pleasers performed by four man troupes, with the non leads providing music, sound effects and taking turns being on stage wearing paper mâché heads to take the roles of chaos beasts).
With that knowledge in hand the group saw the structure of the play, but that did not in any way diminish their enjoyment of it - or their wonder at its accuracy. Pedro and Pierre entered by rope down to the center of the stage, just as whoever dug the shaft must have entered that center room. While exploring they faced humorous traps (Bec: Darts!), a clockwork automaton (disabled by hurling sand into its gears) and a giant spider - bulbous and eight limbed, which snuck up on the hapless delvers as they were peering at an inscription, tapping Pierre on the shoulder several times before getting his attention and unleashing shrieks from the actors and the audience. The chase and combat with that ended act one, and some beers and sauerbraten were purchased from a halfling vendor. Donato expressed his surprise at the eight limbed spider and Hiram explained that it was the other two actors operating in tandem inside the costume - and then effortlessly displayed how such a thing is done with some quick acrobatics. (Dave 20! This is getting strange. Tom: you're gonna regret these with the fighting starts).
In act two Pedro and Pierre found, just as our heroes had, a bear headed corpse on an altar, festooned with purses and a necklace. Given ominous cast to the lighting and the wailing of the violin off stage the audience was primed for the beast to jump up as Pierre poked the corpse once, twice, three times. To the shock of the audience instead of arising the body burst open at the chest, disgorging a handful of scorpions which began dancing madly around the room - leading to an improvised caper from Pedro and Pierre as they both dodged the things and cut loose the purses and necklace before fleeing. After the shock was over Hiram was able to identify the weak paper mâché cover holding wound clockwork scorpions tightly together inside the chest cavity - the pokes would weaken the seal and allow the toys to burst loose and skitter about. Still, the three Hightower veterans were wondering if that was the real cause of the gaping chest wound on the actual bear man's body.
The remainder of the play veered from known territory, indicating a sister passage flanking the spider's den. In this Pedro and Pierre recovered more treasures. Unfortunately, whatever the reality of their venture the structure of the Pedro and Pierre pieces must be obeyed - the hapless duo failed to spot a large trap trigger (despite the audience's warning) and bring down an enormous stone block on their heads. They barely leap to safety, but their treasures are all flattened! With a shrug Pedro asks "Back up the rope?" and Pierre nods sadly and the lead actors vanish into the scaffolding over the stage, only to reappear from the wings to take their bows and accept what coinage is thrown onto the stage for them by the tired, drunken audience.
The nobles waited a few moments for the crush to die down then began their trek home, discussing the finer points of accuracy in the narrative. The play stuck closely to the known facts until that non-existent passage. Still, Hiram's 'sense of the stage' in whilst in the dungeon had indicated what might have been a blocked passage outside of the realm of the dramaturgy as it was not a room he could not enter. (A gratuitous retcon from the GM as I forgot about it. Oops.) "Which means" Dietrich surmised, 'That whoever reached the Tor before us decided to make some quick coin by this play." Donato and Florian revealed the existence of rumors about the looting of Hightower Tor, and this play opened in early winter as a response. Before they could reach Serin they heard a scream for help. In an alley ahead of them they spotted two commoners and their child being beaten by a handful of ruffian sailors. Behind them was the priest from the bar, expounding that death is alas their miserable fate. Donato appeared utterly perplexed and yells "Sebastian?" at which the priest looked up in shock and alarm, being perfectly framed in the streetlight before diving into the shadows.
As his companions leaped into action Hiram, suspecting a trap based on his previous observations, tried to urge caution. (GM: "Roll for initiative" Dave: "2. Crap." Tom: "Warned ya.") Little is warranted however, as the agile Dietrich dispatches one of the sailors in a single pass and then effortlessly defends himself against two others until Florain and Donato arrive and drive the fight from them. The fourth sailor tries to flee, only to be brought low by a bolt of arcane energy from the ever-capable lady Floriane. Hiram generates a dramaturgical radiance to drive off the shadows, but of the lead assailant - identified by the cousins as Sebastian d'Ferrantino, Cardinal of the East in the church of the Endless Ocean, son of Portia d'Ferrantino, Loremistress of the Ferrantino Library, amongst the highest men in Emirikol - there is no sign.
Donato tended to the commoner’s wounds while the others extracted the story from the two living ruffians: Sebastian had recruited them to help him locate a chaos crypt in under Scornbul, and these peasants were carrying a book detailing the instructions on how to enter. Sebastian had ordered them to lie in wait, then identified these people in the street and had them dragged into the alley. The commoners were carrying no such book, and professed with honest faces that they had no knowledge of any chaos crypts. Donato offered to walk them home as Florian led their prisoners to jail to file a complaint against them. Both bid their new friends a fond farewell with a promise to keep them apprised of these odd developments. Before leaving her, Florian did brush his lips, however briefly, against Cybele's aforementioned fair wrist, feeling the quickened beat of her heart.
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