Adventure Log X

LAVENDER MOBS

Morning came, and the city was abuzz with new gossip. The outrageous news came that in the night one of the ships from Eel’s End had broken free of its moorings and made it across to the opposite shore full of people, who had all escaped into the trees inland.

When Byron and Trevor were once more absent from the planned meeting point, the three couldn’t help but suspect who might have been behind the daring escape. They decided to try getting to Trail’s End and seeing what Grau Soldado knew about what had happened, as the boat landed not too far from the ramshackle area.

Nightingale summoned three horses with the now-familiar rapier slashes that magically sliced between this plane and theirs, and the party mounted up. As they rode through the city, Calli and Taylan became aware of winged shapes keeping pace with them long the rooftops. "Flying goblins," she warned, her voice tense. "They're still hunting for Taylan's amulet."

Taylan’s hand instinctively moved to the amulet hidden beneath his shirt. "We can't let them catch us. We need a plan."

Calli nodded, her mind racing. "I have an idea. Everyone act like we don’t see them." They were fast approaching North Bridge and the heavily armored women on guard. Even though Trail’s End was technically outside of the town, the Grey Maidens were allowing people to come and go from it, treating it as a part of the city proper. The Flowers wondered how long before they closed the gates to them, as well.

The half-elf woman began singing, and the air on the far side of the bridge subtly rippled as they rode past. Anyone stood on the city side saw the trio riding off towards the forest ahead, while the real party followed the path around to the left towards the run-down dwellings of Trail’s End. Gale and Taylan reported it had only been partially successful. The two flying figures had split up, and one still followed.

There wasn’t anything else they could do about it except be wary, so they turned their attentions towards finding their missing compatriots.

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They reached Trail's End as the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting long shadows over the small village. The onlookers were curious but wary, their eyes following the party as they dismounted. It was a quaint place, untouched by the chaos that had gripped Korvosa, and yet the air was heavy with unspoken concern.

They knocked on Grau’s door, and he opened the door but an inch until recognizing the familiar faces, then broke into a wide smile. "I think I might have something you’re looking for," he said, his voice warm and welcoming. He gestured for them to enter quickly and locked the door behind them.

Inside Grau's modest house, Trevor, Byron, and Portia were seated at a wooden table, having breakfast. The sight of their comrades brought immediate relief to Nightingale, Taylan, and Calli, and they immediately went over to embrace them. The reunion was heartfelt, their shared hardships binding them closer than ever.

Calli's eyes filled with tears of joy as she spotted Portia. The two women embraced tightly, their relief palpable. However, the mood quickly turned sombre as Portia continued reporting the state of the refugees to the barbarians.

"We have many sick people," she said, her voice heavy with worry. "The journey across seems to have accelerated their illness."

Greta, one of the infected, was in one of the outhouses and her breathing had become shallow and laboured. Portia believed she didn’t have much time left. Calli reached into her pack and produced her vial of lesser restoration. "Here, give this to the girl," she said, handing it to Portia.

Portia realising what it was, rushed to Greta’s side and then carefully administered the potion. Within moments, Greta's colour began to return. Her breathing eased, and she opened her eyes, a weak but genuine smile forming on her lips.

"Thank you," Greta whispered, her voice frail but filled with gratitude. Portia nodded, tears streaming down her face, a small victory in the midst of so much despair.

Portia returned to the group, but the joyous relief of Greta’s recovery was shattered by devastating news: one of the orphans, a young boy named Lova, had passed away during the night. Trevor was heartbroken, his stoic exterior crumbling as he took in the loss. His eyes were hollow, filled with a deep sorrow that words could not capture. Nightingale and Byron offered to accompany him, but Trevor politely declined them all.

"I need to do this alone," he said softly.

Calli, her heart breaking for Trevor and the young boy, asked, "Do you need any religious rites to bury her? I’d be honoured to sing them."

Trevor shook his head. "I'll take care of that," he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

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Trevor carried Lova's small, lifeless body without hesitation, unbothered by the risk of contagion. Venturing into the woods, the silence of the forest enveloped him. He walked until he found a small clearing, where the sun shone through the trees, casting a gentle glow on the ground. With great care, he dug a grave, each shovelful of earth a painful reminder of the precious life lost too soon.

When the grave was ready, he laid Lova gently within it, his hands trembling. He paused for a moment, his eyes closed, offering a silent prayer for the child's soul. He covered the grave with earth, his tears mingling with the dirt as he worked.

Finally, he stood over the freshly turned earth, exhausted and grief-stricken. "Rest in peace, Lova," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."

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Back at Grau's house, Byron sat with the others, recounting the harrowing events that had unfolded in Old Korvosa. His voice was steady but tinged with the weight of their recent experiences.

"The gangs were everywhere, fighting for control," Byron began. "Chaos ruled the streets, and every corner we turned felt like a trap. We barely made it out alive.” Calli pulled out her ink and paper, taking notes as he recounted the time since their departure. Portia quietly indicated there was even more that Byron wasn’t saying, but that she’d fill her in at a better time.

A heavy knock at the door preceded the arrival of a huge man nearly square with muscle. Half his face was tattooed blue, and he was covered in intricate tattoos over his arms and neck. Byron stood to greet him properly, and introduced him to the others. "This is Decca, everyone, my oldest friend and a talented tattooist. He's been through a lot with us."

Calli grinned at Decca, thrilled to meet the artist behind Byron’s intricate floral sleeve. "It's a pleasure to meet you." 

Decca smiled back, his eyes thoughtful. "The pleasure is mine. Any friend of Byron's is a friend of mine."

Calli seemed genuinely interested in getting to know him better and the two started to converse in friendly banter, making Byron wonder if maybe he shouldn’t have introduced them after all.

As both parties continued filling each other in on what had happened over the last two nights, Nightingale stepped forward, his expression serious. "I've been researching the plague. It's supernatural in nature. It's not just a disease; it's a curse. We need to approach it differently if we want to stop it."

Byron nodded, his brow furrowed. "Trevor and I suspected the same thing. Trevor has created an elixir that slows the disease down. It isn't a remedy; but it is a way to slowly counteract the magic."

It was at this time Trevor rejoined the group. "We need to find a priest," Trevor said, his voice firm despite the grief. "We need to save the infected."

The whole party nodded in unison. Their expressions sombre.

Sargent Henrich and Captain Perith, the two Korvosan Guards who had fought bravely by Trevor and Byron’s sides at the Battle of Wyndon Street, came to say goodbye before they departed. Both Byron and Trevor approached them, their expressions one of gratitude.

“It’s been an honour Mister Byron, Sir” said Perith

“Just Byron,” replied the pit fighter. “You’re a good man, Captain Perith. I won’t forget what you did for us” and locked arms with the man as a sign of respect.

"Thank you for everything," Trevor said, extending his hand. "We're in your debt."

Perith clasped Trevor's hand firmly. "No, it's us who are in your debt. You've done more than anyone could ask. Stay safe, all of you."

With a final nod, the guards left, their figures soon disappearing into the morning mist.

The group gathered around, a sense of urgency and purpose in the air. "We need to get clerics here," Trevor said, his voice steady despite his exhaustion. "It's the only way to save the people we've rescued."

Calli nodded. "We'll need to return to Korvosa. It's the best chance we have."

Nightingale agreed. "Let’s move quickly. We can't afford any delays."

As the sun continued to rise, casting a golden light over the village, the party jumped on Nightingale’s summoned horses and rode back to Korvosa, Taylan behind Gale, Calli behind Byron, and Trevor left to manage his steed alone. 

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The party reentered Korvosa through North Bridge, the Grey Maidens standing vigilant, inspecting everyone for signs of the plague. The line moved slowly, tension palpable. Every cough, every feverish glance was met with suspicion and often harsh action from the Grey Maidens. One unfortunate soul coughed, and the Maidens sprang into action, detaining and dragging them away despite their protests.

Luckily, the party showed no signs of illness and was allowed to pass. They moved swiftly towards the Bank of Abadar, the streets filled with the sounds of desperate cries and the pall of sickness hanging in the air.

The Bank of Abadar was surrounded by a large crowd, people pleading for aid. The priests, overwhelmed and exhausted, were only able to triage the sickest cases. Recognizing The Flowers, the crowd parted reluctantly, allowing them access to the inner sanctum. Ishani, the priest who had helped them before, greeted them warmly but with visible concern etched on his face.

Byron explained Trevor's discovery of an elixir that could slow the plague's progress. Ishani's eyes lit up with hope. "This is wonderful news! Trevor, would you be willing to share your discovery with us?"

"Of course," Trevor replied. "Anything to help."

Byron pressed Ishani further. "In return, the Church must send help to Trail's End. There are new victims there who need immediate assistance."

Ishani nodded, understanding the urgency. "Trade is a cornerstone of our faith, and this is a fair exchange. We will send aid to Trail's End."

Ishani then mentioned another matter. "There is a place called Lavender's that claims to have found a cure for the plague. However, I have serious misgivings about their claims. Would you investigate this for us?"

The party agreed without hesitation. Ishani continued, "There is also troubling news about the bodies meant for the mass pits. There’s rumours that one of the body collectors are dumping them rather than making the journey down the the Grey Ward. I’ll need to do more investigating to narrow it down for you, but if you return again tomorrow morning I can point you in the right direction."

"We will look into both matters," Byron assured him. "But first, we must ensure our friends and companions at Trail's End receive the help they need."

Ishani agreed and said he would make his way to Trails end as soon as possible. He then gave them his blessing and disappeared back into the depths of the Bank of Abadar.

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Leaving the holy bank behind, the party moved with purpose through the bustling, plague-stricken streets of Korvosa. Among the ever-churning gossip they learned those prevented from returning to Old Korvosa had settled in Ridgefield, and Byron resolved to visit later to see if Miss Cooper or Gina were there. The group continued towards Lavender’s, but as they were passing both Calli and Nightingale’s parents on the way they stopped in to make sure the plague had spared their loved ones.

At Eudicot Manor Calli left the party outside, promising she’d be quick. Finding her mother in her study, she received mixed news. Mimsy remained untouched, and Renly was on the mend, but Agnes had taken ill again and Penelope remained in a bad state. Of her closest friends Oriel was finally recovered, but both Daesha and Nif were stricken. Calliandra huffed with frustration, and thanked her mother for the updates. She then warned her mother that sending charity to Old Korvosa was no longer advisable due to the volatile nature of the situation there, but that there were people in great need in both Trail’s End and Ridgefield. “And mother, I was mistaken,” she heavily emphasized the word, “Byron and Trevor were not in Old Korvosa. They’re here, and have been the whole time.” The older woman indicated she understood, worry written openly on her face, and warned her girl to be careful.

Next, the group headed to Nightingale's father's coffee shop: Adam’s Brews. Trevor and Byron had never met the man, and they were curious about Nightingale's family. The shop was a cosy nook filled with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee, a welcome respite from the stench of sickness that filled the streets. Shelves around the room were packed with books, vials, ingredients for more than just tea, and the simple but well-kept wooden tables showed occasional scorch marks.

Adam, Nightingale's father, was a sight to behold. His blond hair was wild and bedraggled, his wide, crazed eyes darting around the room as if fueled by an endless supply of caffeine. If he were a dog, he’d be a golden retriever, bounding with energy and excitement. He greeted them with a manic smile, clearly overjoyed to see his son.

"Well, well! Look who's back!" Adam exclaimed, his voice jittery but warm. He reassured his son that he remained well, but that Clara was still sick. “She’s not suffering much at the moment, thankfully, you know how tough your mother is. But here, you've brought new friends! Are these the remaining Flowers I’ve heard so much about?"

Trevor and Byron exchanged amused glances before stepping forward. "I'm Byron," the barbarian said, extending a hand. "And this is Trevor."

Adam shook their hands enthusiastically, his grip firm and his eyes twinkling with a mix of excitement and exhaustion. "Welcome, welcome! Any friend of Nightingale's is a friend of mine. Come in, have a seat! Coffee? Tea? Something stronger?"

Taylan’s face lit up. “Can I have some more pastries?”

Calli realised they’d skipped their own breakfast in the hurry to find their barbarians. “That’s a good idea, might I have one, too, Mister Nightingale?”

Adam beamed with pride. "Of course! Anything for you and your friends." He took their requests, including Byron ordering an entire row of his wares. Adam then distributed food to everyone, filling the room with the comforting aroma of fresh bread and pastries.

Trevor, however, remained distant, his face clouded with concern. As his friends indulged, he stood aside, the sight of their joy only deepening his disquiet. He approached Adam quietly. "I'm not hungry, but do you have any food to spare for some orphans? They're the ones who need it most."

Adam's expression softened, moved by Trevor's compassion. "Orphans? Oh I say. My dear chap. Come with me." He led Trevor to the back of the shop, where boxes of untouched food, left behind by the wealthy, were stored. "I'd be more than happy to give this to them," Adam said.

Trevor's gratitude was evident. "Thank you. How much do I owe you?"

Adam shook his head. "No charge. Just consider it a favour. Maybe you can return it someday."

Trevor nodded, humbled. "I will. You have my word."

As they returned to the front, Calli noticed Trevor's sombre demeanour. "Trevor, why won't you eat? We need to keep our energy up. Food is good for that."

Trevor's eyes flashed with frustration. "It's not about me, Calli. It's about those who need it more. The orphans don't have the luxury of picking and choosing."

Calli sighed, exasperated. "You're spiteing yourself, Trevor. We can't help anyone if we're weak from hunger."

Trevor's voice rose, a rare edge of anger in it. "I'm not spiteing myself. I'm prioritizing. Those kids out there—do you think they care if I eat a bun or not? They need every bit of help they can get, and I'm not going to waste anything on myself when I can do more for them."

The tension between them was palpable, the room silent as everyone watched. Byron stepped forward, placing a hand on Trevor's shoulder. "We understand, Trevor. Your heart's in the right place."

Trevor looked around, seeing the concern in his friends' eyes. He took a deep breath, the anger dissipating. He then turned to Adam and thanked him once again. They then agreed that transportation for the food would be arranged that day. Trevor nodded and left the coffee shop. 

The argument over, the party prepared to move on. Nightingale's eyes wandered to a faded leaflet tacked to the wall, its garish colours catching his attention. The text read: "Lavender's - Free Imp with Every Bottle, while supplies last." He raised an eyebrow. "What's this about, Father?"

Adam chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, that. It was a ridiculous promotion from some time ago. Outrageous, really. The imp was supposed to be a guardian of sorts, but it was all a marketing gimmick."

This didn’t bode well for their next stop: Lavender's, where they hoped to uncover the truth behind the dubious cure for the plague.

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The party made their way through the bustling streets of The Heights, eventually arriving at Lavender's. The scene outside the perfumery was one of desperation and hope, with a queue of eager Korvosans standing in a line that stretched nearly four blocks from the shop's distinctive amethyst-shaded windows. Many of these people looked healthy, but several bore the obvious hacking, blistered symptoms of blood veil. The line threaded through the street and into the store, a testament to the desperation gripping the city.

As they approached, the party could hear snippets of conversation, the word “miracle” frequently surfacing. They discovered that customers would have to pay 2 gp for a dose of Lavender’s Luxuriant Liniment. With determined expressions and wearing their Drake’s Marks that signified them as people who had done some great service for the city, they bypassed the line, stepping into the perfumery.

Walking into the perfumery was like stepping into a sensory wonderland where sight, smell, and touch converged in a symphony of elegance and allure. The interior was a blend of opulence and craftsmanship, designed to entice and enchant visitors.

The decor was a feast for the eyes, with ornate displays and meticulous arrangements. Tables and shelves were adorned with an array of bottles, each one a miniature work of art. Some were crafted from fine glass, etched with intricate patterns or tinted in rich, jewel-like hues. Others were ceramic, painted with vibrant colours or adorned with subtle textures that invited closer inspection.

A sign above them proclaimed, “Lavender’s Luxuriant Liniment: Either You’ve Got It, or You’ve Had It.”

As they took in the scene, a woman approached them, her presence commanding attention. She was well-dressed, with an air of confidence and sophistication. "Welcome to Lavender's," she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I am Vendra, the owner. How can I assist you today?"

Working the counter behind her were two pretty young shop girls, each attending to customers with practiced ease. However, it was the presence of two large men in ill-fitting suits with purple cravats that drew the party's attention. They kept a vigilant eye on the shop’s patrons, and it was clear they were carrying concealed weapons—saps, rapiers, hand crossbows—and the bulk beneath their suits suggested they wore chainmail for protection.

Byron stepped forward, his eyes scanning the room. "We're here to learn more about your liniment. We've heard quite a bit about it."

Vendra's smile widened slightly. "Of course. Lavender's Luxuriant Liniment is the talk of the town. It's been helping many in these difficult times."

Calli, ever the perceptive bard, noted the tension in the air. "It’s impressive that you have such a supply. The city is in desperate need."

Vendra's expression remained pleasant, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—perhaps annoyance or caution. "We do our best. Now, if you're here to purchase, I must ask you to join the line outside."

Trevor stepped up, his tone calm but firm. "Actually, we're not just here to buy. We are here on Official Business." and he flashed his broach. “If you have found a cure, the Queen requires you to share this, so she can distribute this to save the citizens of  her city”

The room seemed to grow a shade quieter as Trevor said this. The guards at the door shifted slightly, their eyes narrowing. Vendra’s smile faltered for just a moment before she regained her composure. "Of course. I assure you, our product is completely legitimate. If you have questions, I'm more than happy to answer them."

When Trevor mentioned the possibility of identifying the potion's ingredients, Vendra hesitated, citing trade secrets that couldn't be divulged without proper authorization. In a back-and-forth Vendra was willing to admit she’d come up with it all herself, and that it was an herbal, rather than a magical, concoction.

Vendra, still busy attending to customers, made excuses about the crowded shop and suggested they return after hours for a private discussion. She also insisted on seeing proof of their official business. Trevor assured her they would provide the necessary documentation.

Meanwhile, Nightingale faked accidentally knocking over one of the bottles of "miracle potion" and causing it to shatter on the floor below. This prompted a stern reprimand from one of the guards and a immediate payment from Nightingale to cover the cost. Gale happily obliged, and offered to help clean it himself. He soaked up the spilled liquid into his silk kerchief and surreptitiously bottled it into one of the party’s empty vials.

Agreeing to return later with the required documentation, the party left Lavenders. Outside though, Nightingale approached Trevor with his pilfered evidence, hoping the half-orc could discern its contents. Using his alchemical knowledge, Trevor quickly analysed the liquid and discovered it was nothing more than river water, sugar, and cheap perfume—a revelation that confirmed their suspicions of a scam.

With this knowledge, their next destination was the Citadel, to Field Marshal Cressida Kroft. They would tell her the situation and hopefully she would shut this charlatan down.

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As they made their way to the citadel though, their journey was interrupted by the sighting of a flying goblin, prompting Nightingale to react swiftly with a magic missile that sent the creature fleeing with a shriek of pain. Whilst this was good news that the imposing creature was gone, it was another reminder that Taylan was constantly being hunted for his amulet.

Calli used the rest of the journey to fill Byron and Trevor in on what had been discovered about Lady Arkona’s silver “dagger.” More bad news on top of an already bad month.

Upon reaching the Citadel, the party met with Cressida Kroft and presented their findings. They explained how the people of Korvosa were being deceived by Lavender’s, believing they were cured when in reality, they were spreading the plague further. Impressed by their diligence and armed with their report, Kroft issued an official writ empowering them to investigate Lavender’s for false practices, with the authority to arrest and shut down the perfumery if necessary.

With the writ in hand, the party returned to Lavender’s once more, ready to confront Vendra and uncover the truth behind the so-called miracle cure.

As the party approached Lavender’s, they were greeted by the sight of a large crowd still clamouring for the so-called miracle cure. Trevor, Byron, and Nightingale stepped forward, their imposing figures and stern expressions demanding attention. Using their authoritative presence, they commanded the crowd to disperse by order of the Korvosan Guard.

There were immediate protests, with desperate people shouting about their need for the miracle cure. However, the party, unwavering, revealed that the potions were nothing more than river water and sugar, designed to exploit their fears and desperation. People finally dispersed in shocked outrage that they’d wasted so much time for nothing.

Vendra burst out of the shop, her face flushed with anger. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, her voice shrill and panicked.

"We tested your miracle cure," Trevor said, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "It's a scam, and your time is up."

Realising the game was over, Vendra's eyes widened with fear. Without another word, she darted back into the shop. Her bodyguards moved to block the entrance, their stances protective and threatening.

Calli stepped forward, her diplomatic skills coming to the fore. "Gentlemen, aiding and abetting a known criminal will not end well for you," she said calmly but firmly. "It's in your best interest to step aside. Otherwise, you'll be arrested and charged."

The bodyguards exchanged glances, weighing their options. "Fuck it," one of them muttered. "We've been paid." They stepped aside, allowing the party to enter the shop.

Inside, they found themselves in a scene of controlled chaos. Bottles and vials lined the shelves, their labels promising false hope. A handful of patrons who had purchased just before the revelation that it was a scam were banging the counter and demanding refunds. A slightly confused middle aged man who wasn’t there for the cure was still trying to make his purchase. The two pretty shop girls were proclaiming “No Refunds!,” but their faces were pale with fear.

Byron and Trevor stepped forward, their expressions leaving no room for argument. "It would be best if you all left now," Byron said, his voice a low growl.

The crowd hesitated, then reluctantly obeyed, shuffling out of the shop under the stern gaze of the party. With the shop now empty, the party began their search for Vendra, determined to bring her to justice.

Realising Vendra had fled down the side alleyway next to the shop, the party moved swiftly to the end and saw it branched into two directions, east and west. Multiple doors lined either side, likely leading to apartments. It was impossible to discern which way she had gone.

Byron, tapping into his Scent rage ability, inhaled deeply and identified a lingering trace of perfume. The scent led him to a door slightly to the right of them, just ahead. Without hesitation, Byron slammed his shoulder into the door, shattering it off its hinges.

Inside, they found an elegantly decorated apartment. Intricate wall hangings adorned the walls, artistically shaped candles flickered, and the air was filled with the delicate fragrance of cherry blossoms. A table with sculpted ivy leaves held a delicate porcelain tea set, and an exotically curved hookah sat in a kitchen nook to the east. They also spied a painting; it was a calming landscape of a mountain lake and another a sketch of an opera house.

The group scanned the room quickly, taking in the lavish decor. A door next to the kitchen led to a bedroom furnished with an antique armoire and a bed draped in purple silks, heavily laden with round pillows. The door was slightly ajar, indicating recent activity.

Moving cautiously, the party entered the bedroom. Nightingale led the way, rapier in hand, with Taylan close behind. Trevor and Calli covered the rear, vigilant for any signs of an ambush, while Byron waited outside the apartment briefly recovering from using his rage power. 

In the bedroom, they found further evidence of Vendra’s presence. The bed’s silks were slightly dishevelled, and her perfume’s scent was stronger here. They searched meticulously, looking for clues.

Nightingale suddenly motioned for silence, gesturing for everyone to stay still. He had discovered a secret passage underneath the bed- a sort of large cat flap. Holding it open, Calli crouched down and carefully used her small hand mirror to peer into the next room.

In the reflection, she saw two more well-dressed bodyguards standing in a small room with an open door. The room itself was a cluttered mess. Broken crates and barrels littered the floor, and a large tub filled with an oily liquid dominated one corner.  Nearby were several large casks and stacks of boxes. 

Calli turned to her companions, whispering, “Two guards. It looks like this is where she’s been preparing the fake potions.”

A sudden whistle cut through the air as a crossbolt fired from one of the thugs shattered Calli's mirror. Shards of glass embedded themselves in her hands, making her wince in pain.

Reacting swiftly, Taylan slid underneath her legs and launched a cone of snowballs from his fingertips, catching the thugs in a flurry of ice and frost.

Trevor barged past his companions into the room, swinging his axe, but the thug narrowly dodged, and the blade struck the wall instead.

Byron, realising the cramped space limited his effectiveness, sprinted down the alley to the next door along. He presumed it led to the secret room and began battering it down with his immense strength.

Vendra, who Trevor could now see just outside the open door in the small room, put on a frightened expression. "You wouldn't hurt a woman, would you?" she asked, her voice trembling as she pulled out a wand and pointed it at him. For a moment, the wand’s magic seemed to charm Trevor into becoming her ally, but he shook it off, his will too strong, and charged at her.

Not wanting Trevor to be surrounded alone in the other room, Calli cast a hideous laughter spell. One of the bodyguards began to chuckle uncontrollably, dropping his guard and doubling over with mirth. The second guard was unaffected, and tried to hit Trevor from behind, but wasn’t able to follow the half-ork’s movement quick enough and the crossbow went wide.

Nightingale then held up his rapier and cast a spell that created two ethereal copies of it that flew towards the attacking bodyguard and sliced into him in a storm of blades, causing serious damage. Taylan's eyes flashed with magical energy from where he remained on the floor, lancing into the same bodyguard and rendering him unconscious.

Trevor swung his axe mercilessly, landing a solid hit on Vendra. She cried out in pain, stumbling backward.

At that moment, Byron burst through the door with a loud crash, his intimidating presence filling the room. "Surrender!" he bellowed. Vendra, seeing the odds stacked against her and knowing she was beaten, dropped the wand and raised her hands in defeat.

The party quickly bound Vendra, ensuring she couldn’t escape. They then turned their attention to the remaining conscious bodyguard, who having finally stopped laughing also surrendered, saying he was just doing the job he was paid for. Byron allows him to leave, though the decision didn’t sit well with Nightingale, who made mental note of the man’s face.

Calli dropped to the side of the downed guard, and reported with relief that he wasn’t yet dead. Byron and Trevor manage to stabilize the man, it not being the first bleeding wound either have had to staunch, and after relieving him of his things tell him to fuck off after his friend.

With Vendra securely tied up, Trevor glanced around the room, noting the scattered evidence of her deceit. "We need to get her and all this back to the Citadel," he said.

Byron nodded. "Let's make sure the people of Korvosa know they've been deceived and stop this plague from spreading further."

Byron then led Venrda outside her apartment as the others searched her lodgings and gathered the evidence. As they did so, they felt a sense of accomplishment. They had thwarted a dangerous fraud and taken another step toward stopping the plague ravaging their city, without any further loss of life. 

Vendra’s lodgings proved quite fruitful. As they searched the apartment and Vendra's belongings, the party discovered the wand of charm personshe had tried to use on Trevor still had a number of charges. It seemed prudent that Calli took ownership of this, as well as Vendra’s circlet that seemed to make her more compelling when worn.

Byron also found a small, ornate bottle. He uncorked it and sniffed cautiously, his face twisting in disgust. "Giant wasp poison," he identified, carefully recorking the bottle. "Two doses." 

The party also found various pieces of jewellery—rings, necklaces, and bracelets, all crafted from fine metals.

The party thoroughly searched every nook and cranny of the apartment, ensuring they didn't miss any other items of interest or evidence of Vendra's schemes. With their evidence in hand and Vendra in tow, the party made their way back to the Citadel. The streets of Korvosa were still bustling, but now they moved with a sense of purpose, knowing they had taken a significant step in their fight against the plague.

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On the way back to Kroft the party passed Gaedren’s warehouse where, unseen by the others, Nightingale managed to retrieve a note from the hidden drop point he’d arranged with the alchemist Svjatlo Raev. A coded message asked for his swift attendance, and he tucked it away.

Back at the Citadel, the party handed over Vendra to Field Marshal Cressida Kroft. The stern woman listened intently as they detailed their findings, her expression one of grim satisfaction. "You've done well," she said, her tone conveying genuine gratitude. "Your diligence has saved countless lives and exposed a dangerous charlatan. Korvosa owes you a debt."

With Vendra securely in custody, the party decided to split up to save time before returning to Trails End to check on their other compatriots. 

Byron and Calli made their way to the Longacre Building, the headquarters of the Grey Maidens. The imposing structure stood as a testament to the power and influence of the city's new protectors. As they approached, Byron's thoughts turned to Gina, his old friend. Inside, they were met with wary glances from the heavily armoured Grey Maidens, but Byron’s determination pushed him forward.

He inquired about Gina Lightningstorm, hoping for some news. A stern-looking Maiden checked their records, finally looking up with a neutral expression. "Gina came for the assessment. She did well," she said, her voice clipped. "But no one has seen her since. We assume she returned to Old Korvosa and has been stuck there due to the curfew."

Byron's heart sank, but he remained stoic. "Thank you," he replied, turning to leave. Calli placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We'll find her," she promised, impressed by how professional and polite he’d been to the Maidens in spite of her personal feelings towards them.

Meanwhile, Nightingale took Taylan and Trevor to see the alchemist, saying he might be able to help brew more of Trevor’s tonic to aid the city. In the shop the familiar scent of burning incense filled the air as they entered, the shop’s interior cluttered with shelves of mysterious ingredients and bubbling concoctions. Svjatlo Raev, a gaunt man with a friendly demeanour, greeted Nightingale warmly despite his obvious sickness.

"Mr Nightingale, it's good to see you," he said, his voice tinged with fatigue. He showed signs of the plague, his skin mottled and his movements sluggish. He revealed his wife and son were just as ill. Nightingale introduced Trevor and explained their recent discovery that would help them.

Trevor detailed his method for slowing the plague's effects, and Raev listened with rapt attention. "That's remarkable," he said, a spark of hope in his eyes. "Perhaps if it were made into a poultice we could improve it further."

Trevor’s eyes lit up at that. It was simple but brilliant. They worked together, the alchemist offering his expertise and resources. The collaborative effort kindled a sense of hope among them. As they refined the method, the Svjatlo's spirits lifted, a small victory in the midst of the city's despair.

The conversation then shifted to other matters, and the Raev revealed troubling news to Nightingale. In a secretive voice he explained that the Cerulean Society had freed 'certain sets of people' from their captivity," 

Nightingale’s jaw clenched. These were murderers who he’d imprisoned who were also sick with the plague. He thought their captivity would ensure their death—a rough sort of justice. 

"I’ll deal with them later," he said firmly. "One problem at a time."

Svjatlo nodded. "For now, let's focus on helping those we can," he said, determination in his eyes. "We'll continue refining this cure, and with any luck, we'll start turning the tide against this plague."

​​ As Trevor, Taylan, and Nightingale left the alchemist's shop, their spirits buoyed by the progress they had made, Byron and Calli ventured into Ridgefield. This district, though not as destitute as Bridgefront, still bore the scars of poverty. Its narrow streets, lined with crumbling buildings and weary faces, evoked memories of Old Korvosa.

Byron was on a mission to find Mrs. Cooper, Greta’s school teacher, and his old friend Gina. As they navigated the labyrinthine alleyways, they approached a rough-looking man leaning against a wall, smoking a pipe. Byron introduced himself and asked if he had seen either woman.

The man, who introduced himself as Humber, shook his head. “I haven’t seen them,” he said, his voice gravelly. “But there’s been talk of something strange. Grey Maidens have surrounded a building in High Bridge and quarantined it. That’s unusual, given the district’s wealth. A mob’s gathering there. Might be trouble, not that we care about some giddies who wouldn’t bother thinking of us, ay Bear?”

Calli arched a delicate pink eyebrow and sweetly inquired where the best place to deliver aid packages for the refugees would be. Humber was thrown by this question, and asked where they were coming from.

“The giddies, actually.” She inwardly enjoyed the nonplussed look that was Humbert’s immediate reaction, and then the two quickly sorted out a good drop point.

Byron thanked Humber for the information, and they moved on. Seeing how badly the search was affecting Byron, Calli suggested they visit her wizard friend Nif who had helped with the dagger. She hoped there might be a spare scroll of locate person she could purchase for the cause.

Upon arrival at the Leroung residence, the guard on duty informed them that Nif was still ill and had left strict instructions not to see anyone. Concern flickered in Calli’s eyes, but there was nothing more they could do.

With their options dwindling, they decided to head back to Calli’s house to drop off the additional loot they’d acquired for her mother to sell on their behalf and pass on the drop point information. When her own guard let her know that Lady Eudicot and the majordomo Renly were not in, she seized the opportunity and invited Byron up to meet her pet birds.*

*The full scene is available as a Character Log entitled Musical Interlude.

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The party reconvened at Trail’s End and shared how their separate trips had gone, along with a couple new rumours picked up through the afternoon. Arbiter Zenobia Zenderholm had returned and was proclaiming allegiance to the queen to anyone who would listen, which was even more strange than her initial disappearance. They’d also learned that the small gang Byron and Calli had chased out of Gaedren’s warehouse, The Riverlads, had succumbed to the plague. There was nothing the party could have done for them, so they turned their attentions to those they still had under their care.

There was a mix of relief and lingering concern among their Old Korvossan companions. Ishani had already visited, and some of the sick were showing signs of recovery. However, others, including one young orphan named Sam, were still struggling with the illness.

Taylan, sensing the urgency, procured one of the better healing wands from his pack. With a look of determination, he waved it over the boy. The wand glowed brightly, and its magical properties coursed through Sam, repairing much of the physical damage the sickness had done to the small child. The young orphan’s pallor faded, and he opened his eyes with a look of renewed vitality. While he still carried the plague, this had undoubtedly bought him more time.

As the group celebrated this small victory, Grau Soldado approached with a serious expression. “I’ve heard another rumour that might interest you all,” he began. “The Grey Maidens are surrounding a building in Eodrid’s Square down in High Bridge. It’s not like them to quarantine a place in such a wealthy district. People are saying it’s causing quite a stir.”

Byron exchanged a glance with Calli. “We’ve heard this too. It’s highly unusual and definitely worth investigating.”

Calli nodded, her eyes narrowed with resolve. “That’s around where The Flame operates. We need to find out what’s happening there before the day ends.”

The party gathered their gear and prepared to head towards High Bridge. They knew the situation could be dangerous, but their commitment to uncovering the truth and protecting the citizens of Korvosa drove them forward.

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The scene as they arrived was ready to erupt into violence at any moment. Twelve Grey Maidens stood at attention, weapons drawn, facing down at least four times as many angry citizens. The Flowers who had seen them work in the Grey Ward knew that though outnumbered, it would be a slaughter of the people should they attack.

With tensions high and the threat of violence looming, Trevor and Byron surveyed the agitated mob, quickly identifying the most influential individuals whose actions could sway the entire group. They moved with purpose, using their understanding of mob mentality to engage these leaders in earnest conversation. Their words were a blend of reassurance and pragmatism, emphasising that attacking the Grey Maidens would only escalate the situation and lead to more deaths. They spoke of hope and solutions—cures being developed, aid on the way—that could alleviate their suffering without resorting to bloodshed.

Sensing time was of the essence, Trevor suggested to Calli that she do the thing that she did best when in front of a crowd. Calli then walked purposely between the mob and the maidens and began to sing. As she did so, magic wove into her words, and the mellifluous sound of her voice slowly distracted the masses until she had nearly all of their attention. They even began sitting down to better focus on the music. Taylan even conjured some dancing lights to add visual interest to the performance for the captive audience. It was truly a sight to behold.

The Grey Maiden who seemed to be giving the orders stepped forward and called out. “You’re the Flowers, I recognize some of you from the ghoul caverns. What is Calli doing there? You’re all interfering in an order of the queen!”

Nightingale, knowing Calli wouldn’t be able to stop lest the spell break, approached the Grey Maidens with careful diplomacy. He assured them that they were helping, not hindering. He appealed to her sense of reason, explaining how their presence was only escalating tensions. With skillful persuasion and a touch of charm, he convinced her to instruct her fellow Maidens to step back, easing the pressure on the crowd.

As Byron and Trevor continued their dialogue with the mob leaders, their arguments found resonance. The leaders, seeing reason and the potential for a peaceful resolution, agreed to stand down. Slowly, the mob began to disperse, returning to their homes with a newfound sense of hope rather than despair.

In a matter of moments, what could have erupted into a violent confrontation was diffused. The combined efforts of the team had averted a potential massacre. As the square cleared and calm returned, the party knew their intervention had saved lives and brought a crucial moment of peace to the troubled district of High Bridge.

The leader of the Grey Maidens approached them again and congratulated them on the masterful handling of the dangerous situation. She introduced herself as Kordaitria Destaid, and let them know she had indeed relayed to her boss, Sabina Merrin, the good deeds that The Flowers had been up to, saying that she’d have to add this to the list. Calli, hoping that with enough notice they may gain another audience with the queen’s right hand, let Destaid know about how they’d busted up Vendra’s sham cure operation at Lavender’s earlier that day, as well. Kordaitria was satisfied to hear the charlatan was in custody, and mentioned looking forward to her swift execution. The party paused as they remembered the list of heavy punishments that had been read out at the start of the outbreak.

Nightingale carefully changed the subject, reminding her that he would still like to know the name of the Maidens who had fallen in the ghoul caverns to add to the memorial he’d carved into the wall. She said that was not usually how they operated, but that she’d put in a request for him, as she could see his heart was in the right place.

Thanking them once more, the Maidens moved on, and the Flowers were left to their own devices once more.

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Evening was creeping in, darkness sliding over the city, and they stopped briefly at the Bank of Abadar to pass on the tips the alchemist had given on how to better utilise Trevor’s concoction. Nightingale asked if they could send someone to cure Svjatlo Raev and his family, pointing out he had the skills to help produce the poultices should he be healthy enough to do so. Ishani looked defeated, saying that they were stretched so thin he could either go see the orphans or the alchemist, but didn’t have enough power to heal them all in one day, and unfortunately there was no one else to assist. The Flowers weighed the grim choice silently for a moment and then asked him to continue to visit Trail’s End first.

Ishani then remembered he had managed to get more information about the bodies being dumped. He’d heard there was a street in Ridgefield where a cart carrier was dropping the infected dead into an alley instead of disposing of them properly, and it was causing the plague to spread more rapidly. The group agreed they’d look into it the next morning, and after their long and stressful day, decide to call it a night.

As Calli and Taylan walked ahead towards Zellara’s, Nightingale caught Byron and Trevor before they left for Trail’s End. He filled the two large barbarians in on the Red Knives gang, saying that he had trapped them in their hideout with the flux but the Cerulean Society had let them out. He then asked them to help Taylan and him '“take care of them” before they could continue causing the misery they had been inflicting on the town. Trevor was not at all comfortable with the idea of crossing the Cerulean Society again, but he also didn’t like the sound of this gang being left to their own devices. Both men said they’d have to think on it. Nightingale understood, warning only, “Not a word to Calli, if you please.”

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As Byron and Trevor finally drifted off to sleep at Grau Soldado’s, Byron was startled awake by loud howling. Looking across at the half-orc who remained sleeping peacefully, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it had come from his direction.