Solo Quest

Where Was Nightingale

On the evening of the 21st of Pharast, while Byron and Calli were on the Black Market trip, Nightingale was working on his own, private shopping list. His first concern was taking extra steps to help keep his extracurricular activities from being tracked back to anyone else, especially Calliandra or her family. He needed a mask. While a basic bandanna got the job done, he was after something more dramatic. Something that would draw the eye, so that hopefully they spent less time taking in the rest of him to identify later.

His search had brought him to the Ampitheatre. The grand building had a couple of guards stationed at the doors, and shows had not yet reconvened after the riots, so he watched and waited until a group of loud and animated individuals exited together and followed them to a nearby dive bar, The Dirty Duck. He didn’t have to try very hard to be unassuming, as they were so involved with their own discussions the rest of the pub might as well have been empty. He didn’t even have to be very near to overhear them. A lifetime of projecting one’s voice is hard to turn off, he supposed.

The group was complaining that they still had not picked back up performances, and their allotted time slots and their money was quickly running out. One of them, whom Gale thinks he’s seen before, reassured the rest in the voice of someone who’d said it a number of times before, that the show wasn’t ready yet. The smoke effect still wasn’t working like it should. Nightingale watches him interact with the others and realizes he’d seen him in a prior production Calli had drug him along to called Maelstrom. This older man trailed off complaining about the special effects and turned to a halfling holding a script sat with them. “Any word where our alchemist has gotten off to, yet?”

Hearing they had an alchemist peaked Gale’s interest further, as some of the things he was after would take exactly that expertise. He chose this moment to put on a winning smile and approach. He greeted the group as a whole, and then the older man directly.

”Sorry for interrupting, but don’t I know you? I’m sure I’ve seen you perform before, in Maelstrom, was it?”

The thespian looked pleased to have been recognized, and Gale humored him with some conversation about his skills and the quality of the show. He then slipped in that he happens to be scouting for talent, and would rather like to see their current show. At this news the whole party got exponentially more interested in his presence. Some of them preen and primp a bit trying to look more alluring. The little halfling looks disappointed, however, and speaks up that unfortunately they aren’t sure when the show would resume, but it would be posted on the notice boards when it was ready.

Gale got the feeling he was trying to dismiss him, and counters by saying it was a shame and offering to buy them drinks, which they obviously accept with speed. He recalls the familiar actor is named Wingran. Nightingale brags that he’s had some very successful shows, most recently a party at the Crested Falcon, which some of the group react to with eager smiles. They discuss a bit of who he already has on his books, and asks what the hold up for their own show seems to be. Wingran explains their alchemist Svjatlo Raev went missing a few days ago, and without him they can’t get the special effects to work correctly. Oplan, the halfling who acts as the troop’s stage manager, says he’d visited Svjatlo’s shop in Midland but it was all closed up.

Nightingale asked where else they’d been searching, and they admit they hadn’t. Gale says he hates to see fine art held up, and that he’d put out some feelers and see if he can’t find the man. Gale claims he’s interested in possibly investing and needs to see it at full strength to make the decision. He would also like a tour of their facilities, first, if it was possible. Wingran volunteers Oplan to take him immediately.

Together the two walk back the short distance to the open air theatre, and the guards recognize Oplan and wave them past. They pass rows of stone seats, moss growing over in places, and Gale remarks at the beauty of it all. He then turns his attention to buttering up the halfling, talking about how backstage is where the real magic happens, and that without all the people behind-the-scenes there wouldn’t be much of a show at all. Oplan is relieved to hear this, says Gale must have worked with actors before, and starts opening up to the inter-cast drama. Wingran is obsessed with Toki’s Maelstrom, and is determined to make his reproduction of it equal to the legendary dwarf himself. Nightingale says he is a follower of Toki, but those are some big boots to fill. Oplan takes him into the back rooms and continues the tour.

Conversation gets back to Svjatlo Raev. The alchemist is one of the best in the city, and had been working with them for years, so him vanishing without word has taken everyone by surprise. Oplan says he had no debts that they knew of, nor enemies. He gives Gale the man’s address in Midland to follow up on. Then they get to the costume room. It’s elaborate and full of beautiful costumes, hats, capes, shoes, cloaks, anything one could need in a dazzling array of colours and textures. Gale spins a lie that he had an investor interested in possibly putting on a production that takes after the Noh tradition, so Oplan leads him to the mask shelves. It’s a fantastic array, including a couple clearly made up to look like the face of the late king.

Gale points it out, but Oplan says it had never actually been used, was only a backstage gag. The magus notices a few other that stand out, one a full-faced insectoid mask with multiple compact eyes and strange legs or antennae, and one that captivates him above all others. It’s a half mask, leaving the mouth free, but the patterns on it are ever shifting, so that however you turn it to look it is a constantly changing design. It’s unnerving and intimidating in it’s strange alien-ness. Oplan said it was meant to represent one of the gods or a shapechanger of some description, but was too eerie and had never been used. Gale asks if the troop would consider selling them, he knew a few collectors who might like them, so Oplan said he’d talk to the person in charge, but Nightingale doesn’t want anyone but this small person to know what was about to happen. He tries different tactics to get the halfling to play ball and sell them directly, but he’s too worried about possibly losing his job and says he’d never steal. Finally Gale says he won’t have to steal a thing, he just needs to leave the room first and not look back. He’d put steel into his voice at the end, making it clear it was an order now, no longer a request, and Oplan nervously nods and says he needed to go check the props anyway. Once he left, Nightingale swipes the dazzling mask, the bug mask, and one of the masks of the king for good measure.

He then seeks out the now nervous stage manager and apologizes for his behaviour, but that his collector friend would just die to see them. Oplan quickly apologizes for suddenly running off, acting as if he hadn’t heard what Gale had said, and insists that he was confident nothing untoward had happened while they were separated. “Of course not,” Gale agrees, and shakes his hand, slipping him some gold for his troubles. At this Oplan relaxes a bit, perhaps relieved he was being bought off and not bullied further. Gale says he’ll need a good stage manager on his show, and asks if the man would be interested in touring. He is, and he takes Gale’s card, but Gale gets the impression he’s used to promises made and forgotten as Oplan says he’ll look him up once it’s in production.

Nightingale departed towards Midland to the alchemist’s address as the night gets darker. The streets have emptied of their usual bustle, and he has to keep his sharp eyes peeled to determine where danger may be waiting. Before too long he arrived at a shut up alchemist shop at the corner of a block of connected two-story buildings, all equally closed for the night. There’s no response to his polite knocking. Waiting until there’s no one near, he slides a thin dagger into the lock of a door that exits on to an alley of the store, casting acid splash through the small weapon to melt the mechanism inside.

The door let him into a small side room with set of stairs down, to his left were racks full of beakers and components. Curtains at the far side of small room lead him into the main shop. A brief investigation revealed there had been a bit of a struggle, a few things knocked around, a flask boiled over, but it does seem more like someone left in a hurry than was attacked. The main clue that it was definitely foul play was a bright red scarf pinned prominently to the back wall with a dagger. Gale has heard of group called Red Knives that are weavers by trade and all carry sharp objects associated with that profession.

Upstairs he found more evidence that a man, woman, and child all lived there. A lot of clothes left behind as well as toys and jewelry. Not a robbery, then. Back in the main shop area he does a more detailed search and finds tucked away strapped under a workbench the journal of Svjatlo Raev. Reading through the last handful of entries he found that Raev had hired a new helper recently named Emlin to give him a second chance at life. Emlin swore his time with the Red Knives was over. Then there are entries focused on a new discovery they’d been working on, and once he’d figured it out and told Emlin, he recorded that he didn’t like the look in Emlin’s eye. The last entry was worried he had misjudged him. Gale looked up again at the scarf pinned to the back wall and knew the answer to that question.

Gale left, taking nothing. He knows where the Red Knives gang are said to operate, and that the gang is in good standing with Cerulean society. It does take him long to find the gang’s Tailor shop, and he finds the building is dark and locked up like all the others at this time of night. Once more he utilized his unique magic to burn out the lock with acid. Soon as he gently eased the door open a smell assaulted nostrils, warm and acrid, a bit like urine, coming from room in the back past all the rolls of cloth on one side and racks of clothes on other. He cut a strip of cloth to wrap around his face to guard against the fumes, and took advantage of the clothing to swap his distinctive flashy coat and bowler hat out for a more nondescript plain black coat. Now even more lost in the shadows, he crept to the door of the back room and listened. Beyond were several people moving around, the swooshing of large liquid vats, low conversations, crude jokes, and laughter. He cautiously opened the door to reveal steps leading down. The pungent smell was nearly overpowering, but mask kept him from involuntarily gagging.

The steps opened into a large room, where he could make out a large vat of purplish liquid, being stirred by a man with a wooden paddle. Leaving the door at top open, he retreated to hide in the clothes, and used mage hand to knock over some rolls of cloth. The worker who had been stirring appeared up the stairs to investigate. Nightingale was invisible, blended perfectly into the racks, and the man assumed nothing more treacherous than rats may have been at fault. He began picking back up the cloth, leaving his back open to Gale, who slid in behind. Nightingale closed the stair door with a magical gesture of one hand, and held his rapier up to man's throat with the other. The man froze, and Gale whispered, "Good boy, don't make a sound."

While Gale disarmed him the worker pleaded, "I think you've made a mistake, we've paid our dues, we're protected." Gale reassured him he's just looking for someone, and doesn't want to hurt anyone. When he asked for Emlin the man admitted he was downstarirs. He then asked for the alchemist, and at that the guy tensed and played dumb. Gale pressed the issue.

"Ooh so you don't have permission for that? You've broken the Cerulean society's rules?" The man sounded nervous, protesting that it wasn’t his idea, but when they offered to hire the alchemist originally he’d refused. Gale pointed out that by breaking the pact with the society they’d given up their right to protection. "Imagine the violence the society will bring down on you. Do you have any family?"

"Yes"

"Probably not anymore."

The man quailed. "What do you want?"

"To take the innocent man away."

"I can't just let him go!"

"What else is going on down there?"

"We’re working, doing the nightly fabric dying."

"Did I bring up the only idiot?" Gale pressed the man’s head against the wall, and quized him on how many are down below. Six people working in the dying room, and eight in another. He explained their leader, Quilk, is in that back room. Nightingale claimed to be there as a messenger of the Cerulean Society and wanted to talk to the boss about the unauthorized activities. When the man continued to claim he had just been following orders, Gale asked how flammable the place is. The man said they haven't had any fires. Nightingale demanded he take him to Quilk.

Downstairs revealed there were four vats in total, with at least 1 sometimes 2 people working each one. At first no one really reacted, but seeing Gale come in behind their colleague they challenged his existence. They made an attempt to question the newcomer, but he parried their probes as easily as if he had been in a duel with them. He learned the man he’d questioned was named Stornway, and tiring of their delays snapped, "Do you always question your betters or are you just an idiot?" The steel in his voice and confident demeanor sold his claim that he was an undercover operative, and they returned to their work, but kept a suspicious eye on him as he left.

As they leave the dying room the walls became more ragged, clearly hollowed out but unfinished, meaning it wasn’t likely to feature in any city plans of the building. The smells changed from the piss-aided dyes to a more chemical acid smell. The main feature here was a largeish table covered in alchemical equipment and a fellow in longish robes moving around it. Gale took a guess that this was his missing man and addressed him, "Mister Raev?"

His reply was strained, "I’m still working!"

"Are they treating you well?" At this the alchemist finally looked up, confusion on his face. Gale continued, "Are these ruffians and thugs treating you well?"

"How do you expect me to answer that? I've been dragged from my home with my family?"

"Your family is here?"

The man gestured to the far end of the room, where an alcove to the side had been turned into a barred cage. Inside were what must be his wife and son, who only looked around seven or eight years old. Gale again berated Stornway for kidnapping a whole family without approval.

"Quilk told us to!"

"Would you fuck a dog if he told you to?"

"No! Well, maybe if he threatened me."

"Is he very treatening, then?"

"A brute"

"So you don't enjoy life underneath him?"

"No one's ever asked me…"

"Is this what you wanted with your life?"

"Are you some sort of guidance councilor?" Stornway was obviously confused at the turn the questioning had taken.

"It just seems like you don't fit in."

"I've got hopes and dreams, this is a weird time to ask"

"Don't you think that child has hopes and dreams you're crushing?"

"I dunno…" The goon looked over at the mother and child cowering in their cell.

"Don't you have a family, if that was yours how would you feel?"

"Very scared."

"How do you think poor mister Raev feels." Svjatio Raev, who’d been watching in bewilderment, was not pleased to have attention drawn back to him and quickly returned to whatever concoction he’d been working on.

"Upset, sad."

"Do you think this is best way to handle situation?"

"I just do what I'm told," Stornway returned to his original defense in defeat.

It was clear this was the limit of anything Gale was going to get out of the underling, but he hoped the man would think on it. "Introduce me to Quilk." Nightingale assured Raev he'd be back for him shortly.

The two men followed another carved passageway sloping down into another large room. It was roughly oblong, with a disgusting sewer smell that seemed to waft in past a grate blocking off another tunnel. There were many smaller tables around this room, weapons and armor stored at one end, with sacks and crates dotted throughout. This was the eight person room, and some played cards, a couple slept on rough beds, while one counted money. Stornway called out to one of the guys playing cards, a large thug, "Quilk, got someone to see you." Nightingale keeps his hold on Stornway, positioning the lackey between him and the well-muscled man that stood up.

Gale announced that he had been sent by the Cerulean Society because they’d caught wind of the Red Knives’ unsanctioned actions. Quilk scoffed, and responded to Gale’s demands by demanding Gale’s name. Nightingale doesn’t answer, but instead congratulated him for putting his whole crew in the bad books. Quilk asked how he’d even heard about it, and Gale said that a dagger with a red scarf pinned to the home of the stolen family was hardly subtle. Quilk stared hard at younger guy in the room, who demands if it was his idea. Nightingale makes note of this one’s face, assuming it to be the traitorous Emlin.

The young one puts his hands up in a placating gesture, and said, "I was marking our territory!"

Gale snapped, "If you want to mark your territory go piss in a corner."

The boss pointed a finger at the intruder, "Those are my guys, don't tell them what to do,” and then points at the idiot, “but yeah go piss in a corner." The boss then asked Gale why the society even cared about them snatching these particular people, thinking it to be of small importance, and Gale explained they’d wanted to hire him for other jobs they had lined up but weren’t able to locate him, which ruined some of their own plans. The large man asked what kind of jobs, not believing his story at all, and Gale said there were some robberies they needed more acid for to use on the locks.

“Like I’ve done to your front door upstairs. What, do you just break them down?” he sassed.

"Who do you answer to?" Quilk pushed.

"Who do you?"

This time Gale’s retaliatory questioning wasn’t enough, and the big man began looming over him. "No, no. I have all my crew, and you're alone. You’re going to tell me." A few of the henchmen stood up and slowly started to move forward. Stornway looked very uncomfortable indeed to be between the brewing storm and their target.

But Nightingale stood his ground, “The very top. I'm an investigator, I work with Lady M personally." Faces around the room went pale, and Quilk stepped back a bit.

"IF I believe you, what do you want me to do?"

"Release him."

"Just let him go?"

"Yes, you can still work with him, but so can we."

"I want preferential treatment."

"Fine. Your jobs can take precedent, And I'll pay to replace your lock."

"That's fair," Quilk sniffed.

Nightingale hands over a couple of gold. and finally let Stornway go. His previous hostage ran to the other side of the room. Gale holds out a hand to shake, but Quilk snubs it. Gale shrugged. "I know you're under our protection, but you have to do things properly. Bureaucracy is the worst, but it will avoid all this." Quilk gives a terse nod and the two head back to the room where the stolen family await their fate.

Gale announced, "You will be released on behalf of the Cerulean Society, understanding that you'll be agreeable to working for for Red Knives when they hire you- with pay- and they are to be given preferential treatment, when they ask." Raev readily agreed, shocked that he wasn’t just being released but would also be compensated. Gale stipulates if there are delays due to needing more reagents they can't give him a hard time about it, they had to be reasonable with the alchemist. Quilk agreed, and asked what about the new discovery. Thinking quickly he apologized that they can't use it just yet, the Society wants to test it first, so he’s going to be taking what had been made as evidence. The Red Knives released the family, the alchemist gathered a basket with some strange orbs in it, and they rushed out of the building. Quilk escorts Gale out, who compliments the tailoring upstairs, asks to buy a few things. Quilk was quickly tiring of his presence but allowed it, which gave Gale the opportunity to grab his own coat and hat along with a few other things to disguise them. After handing over more gold, he finally exited and joined the family on the road outside.

Svjatlo Raev stood with his wife and child behind him, and bitterly spat, "I guess I work for the Society now?"

"No, I lied," he whispered and gestured for them to start walking.

They all began making their way back towards their home. "Who are you?"

"Just a friend to those who are mistreated and need justice."

"Are you Blackjack?" the woman offered.

"No, but I'm honored by the comparison."

"Why'd you help me?" the alchemist asked, previous traces of bitterness gone.

"I overheard your theater troupe say you've gone missing. I realized you and family had been taken, and I couldn't abide it. No point trying to bring the guards into it, they’re not worth a piss in a brewery."

The child asked with wonder if he's a hero.

“No, I just want things to be better."

"Well, whoever you are, we owe you our lives."

"You probably will have to work with Red Knives for now, but I hope to deal with them more permanently soon."

"I still owe you, and I'm a man who pays my debts."

"I have no idea what you could offer."

"I'm an alchemist! I could make you whatever you wish."

Nightingale inwardly smiled, and took a moment to make it seem like he was thinking about it. "Mists? Smoke bombs? Grenades?"

Raev paused at this and holds up his basket, "Like these?" Gale looked into the basked at the unusual items and asked if he’d be able to teach him how to make them. The man replied that it’s taken him a lifetime of dedication to the skill, that it wouldn’t be something Gale could just pick up.

"Well, teach me what you can, supply what you can when you're able, I'll consider your debt paid."

"Of course. Anything you need, though I will need money to purchase reagents for your orders."

"I can do that. I'll come at night and leave a note when I need something."

"How will I know it’s from you?"

"You know the legend Blackjack's symbol, I’ll use that. I will take these for now, how do they work?" The older man showed him the four grenades and points out their small fuses. Light, throw, and a short time later they explode. He’d have 6-20 seconds before they went off. The two on the left explode to do fire damage, while the two on the right shoot out sharp pellets. Nightingale asked how long would it take to get some smoke bombs made, and is told it would take several days. Gale assures him he'll collect first batch from his shop, but will set up a drop point in the mean time for future transactions to minimize the interactions at the alchemist’s home.

Raev asked about the Cerulean Society, what does he tell if they ask about their saviour. Gale replied to tell the truth, he doesn't know who he his, and doesn't know if he'll ever see him again. It’s not technically a lie. Gale still had the cloth wrapped around the bottom half of his face and was wearing the form concealing plain coat he’d picked out in the tailor’s. They reached their destination, the family thanked him again, and Gale retrieved the scarf and dagger left behind by the gang.

Wheels began turning in his mind on how to use them to frame the Red Knives, and turn the Society against them.

It was the wee hours of the morning by the time Gale got back to where he was staying and got some sleep. He ended up sleeping longer than he meant to. Dressed back in his own dashing ensemble, he first went to check on Gaedren’s warehouse that they’d cleared out previously to see if it could possibly be used as the drop point with the alchemist. He saw new boards up over the main entrance and evidence of recent activity. He’d wait until he was with the group to check the inside and see what new scum of Korvosa was infesting it.

Turning his steps northward towards the meeting at The Cracked Weasle he was now hours late to, a pair of guards spot him and let him know Kroft is looking for The Flowers and it seemed urgent. He was closer to the citadel than Old Korvosa, so decided to check with her first. When he arrives at her office she's clearly furious and demands to know if they work directly for the queen. He replied with a frank negative, and after searching his face she sagged. "Shit, then I can't trust my guard."

"Well I could've told you that."

"The queen's personal guard has turned up and taken Trinia." She said no one outside her guard knew where the woman had been kept, so one of them must be reporting back to the castle. She asked Gale to find the group in Grey Ward, gives him the brief description of a headless gargoyle statue by the south wall, and urged him to bring them back. Gale warned her not to trust the guard, but Kroft said she'd always been proud of of them. There must just be a traitor in the ranks.

Gale retorted, “Like the guards who started the meat factory?”

"I see your point. Look, what The Flowers are doing is important, it must be finished, but bring them right back after." Gale tries to ask for any gear she might have spare, but she'd already given it to the others. He then let her know they should talk about how to clean up the town at some point. Kroft’s parting words to him were, "I'll trust your group more than my guard for near future, expect me to call on you more."