It was with rather a larger group than heâd intended that Lucien eventually found his way to the Qunari Compound, but he did have to draw something of a line when they reached the gate, requesting that no more than three people total accompany him inside. Though he may not always seem it, he was versed enough in diplomacy to understand that it was better not to approach this situation as though looking for a fight. In fact, he rather hoped to avoid one. Since Aurora had already declared her intent to remain without, this left them with one too many individuals, at least until Nostariel mildly volunteered to stay with Aurora. In truth, Lucien would have preferred her company to that of the young woman he did not know, but he wasnât going to complain. Chances were, the Arishok wouldnât take much interest in his company anyway.
The four of them were allowed in immediatelyâwithout even the need to explain themselves, as was usually required. Apparently, they were expected by the whole compound. He wasnât sure how he felt about thatâit certainly indicated that something of relative importance was happening, which could be either god or bad. Still, it didnât change his approach any, and when he came to stand before the Arishok, it was with customary politeness but no excess of deference. Inclining his head, he spoke first. âYou sent for me, Arishok?â
The Arishok sat atop a small seat at the height of the staircase before them as ever, surrounded by painted warriors who looked utterly bored, despite how much they tried to hide it. They had been here a very long time, among the screaming gulls and the salty smell of the sea, among the lowest of the humans in Lowtown. Smuggling and sometimes even slavery exchanges happened only a few buildings down from where they were camped, and indeed, Ithilian could see this place as nothing other than a military encampment, filled with soldiers awaiting orders. They had waited a long time for them. He did not know what kept them here, but he could feel the way they despised their surroundings. These were a strong people barely contained from destroying this city utterly. He wondered what their thoughts were on the Alienage, and if they would view it any differently than the rest of this place. He would have asked this Arishok such a question, but he had agreed not to speak unless directed otherwise, and the Qunari war leader looked to be in no mood for probing questions. Unless that was just the face he always wore.
"Lucien Drakon," Arishok began in his low rumble of a voice, fixing dark eyes on the man. "Last we met, I did not know your name, did not care to. You have done a great deal over the past few years. The Qunari have not. Our fortunes remain the same." He shifted slightly in the seat, casting brief glances to those that accompanied the mercenary this day, but paying them no mind in the end. "I offer a courtesy. Someone has stolen what he thinks is the formula for gaatlok. You will want to hunt him."
Sophia was unsure what gaatlok was, but if they supposedly wanted to hunt him, it couldn't be anything good. She leaned over to Lucien and spoke in low tones. "Gaatlok? What is that?"
The Qunari were restless, that much was obvious to see. A restless army, trapped in their garrison, was hardly something one wanted on their doorstep. It was almost as volatile a solution as the substance someone had tried to steal, and it made him immediately wary. In the matter of martial strength, someone like him could not afford doubt in his own ability, but there was no mistaking that this was still a daunting reality. The Qunari were too much like him in their militant upbringings for him to assume they would be content doing nothing for much longer.
âYour explosive powder?â he replied, answering Sophiaâs question at the same time. He was immediately reminded of Javaris Tintop the dwarf, and the mission heâd undertaken in the company of Nostariel and Ashton several years ago. But⊠âYou said this party believes they have stolen the formula for gaatlok. What have they actually stolen?â You will want to hunt him sounded quite ominous, indeed. The Arishok did not seem one disposed to overstatement.
"The stolen formula was a decoy, Saar-qamek--a poison gas, not explosives," the Arishok answered simply. "A small amount is dangerous enough to your kind. But if made in quantity, perhaps by someone intending to sell it... would he be cautious, or would he assume success, and make enough to threaten a district?" He leaned back slightly. "A courtesy, Lucien. You will want to hunt him."
Lucien nodded gravely. âI most certainly will,â he replied just as solemnly. âMy thanks, Arishok.â
"Panahedan, Lucien," the Arishok said, nodding. "I do not hope you die."
Whatever Milly was expecting, it certainly wasn't this. The Qunari were military, they had the same walk and look about them as the Templars back at the Circle, that much was evident. However, somehow these people were even more disciplined. She was more than a little bit intimidated, even if she stood beside both the large mercenary known as Lucien Drakon (a familiar name, but one she was currently unconcerned with) and the Dalish Ithilian. At some point she had taken a step back to allow the men to stand in front of her. It was her own fault of course. She was curious. But she couldn't help but partially blame Rosy for this. She let this happen.
When the conversation turned into talk about a poison gas, Milly's eyes fell even further. What exactly did she step into? Was Kirkwall always this dangerous with threats of poison and danger lingering around every corner? And Lucien, taking it all in stride. Did he really encounter these things often enough to simply just bear it? Her thoughts then turned to Rosy, waiting just outside the gate. Just how did she manage to survive in such a city? She found herself massaging her temples as she was led out, asking the three strangers around her, "Are things always so exciting?"
The Chevalier turned to the other three, and gestured to indicate that they should leave. He was pretty sure he had a decent read on the Arishok by this point, and heâd told them about all he was going to. Lucien had a fair idea about where to start in this hunt, anyway. Once they were back outside and reunited with Aurora and Nostariel, he spoke first to Milly, and then to the group at large. âOnly about once a week or so," he said, a knowing lightness to his tone, but it disappeared shortly thereafter. "Nostariel and I once met a dwarf who was very interested in obtaining this gaatlok. I think we might be best served starting with Javaris, and I suppose weâll most likely find him either at his shop in Lowtown or underground.â
To perhaps explain to his friend why this old story was relevant, Lucien explained the mix-up regarding the gaatlok and the saa-qamek, ending with a small pause, and then: âThis is a fair bit more dangerous than I was expecting it to be, and I would understand of there are those among you who do not wish to undertake the task. If so, please do not feel obligated to remain.â He looked particularly at Auroraâs friend as he said this, knowing that she was probably far from used to the lifestyle that the rest of them kept.
Milly met Lucien's look and held for a time before shifting gaze on Aurora. The woman stood straight with her arms crossed and with nary a doubt written on her face. Little Rosy wasn't so little anymore, Milly knew her friend was going to go with them. Not only that, but Aurora had the confidence that said she knew what she was doing, and it wasn't some fancy. She could read it plain as any book, this wouldn't have been the first time Aurora had done anything like this, and most likely not the last time. Milly wouldn't be able to talk her out of it, even if she tried. So she nodded along, "I'll stay. I'll keep out of the way though, but if you need me, I'm here."
Apparently, the answer wasn't the one Aurora wanted to hear, but she couldn't decide Milly's path for her. Only she could do that. So she reluctantly allowed it. The girl needed to learn how life was in Kirkwall, but this was getting to be too much. True, she couldn't want for any more strong companions, but Aurora was still worried. "Fine. But if things get too dangerous..." Aurora's statement was finished by Milly herself, "I'll get out. I know my limits, Rosy. Unlike someone I know."
Still six strong, the party headed back up the stairs to the rest of Lowtown, Lucien and Nostariel leading the way to where they had encountered Javaris Tintop at his shop severa years ago. Sophia followed, silently stewing about the fact that she had two apostates following her. They hadn't come right out and said it, but the fact that Milly was volunteering to stay after she knew how much danger they could potentially be going into echoed back quite similarly to when Sophia had first met Aurora battling thugs in Lowtown's nighttime streets. That she stayed implied she knew how to handle herself, but she did not appear to be a warrior of any kind, and this girl didn't even have the same level of agility Aurora had acquired. If she wasn't a mage, Sophia would be shocked.
Naturally, she began to ask herself why she was keeping silent, and the best reason she could think of was because they really didn't have time for it right now, or the luxury of turning down allies when they knew what they could be walking into. The Dalish elf seemed willing enough to help now, and that was undoubtedly because poison gas in enough quantities to threaten a district could easily do a great deal of harm to the Alienage, if set off in the wrong place. That, and... she knew anything she tried would not go over well. Both Lucien and Nostariel were friends of Aurora's, she had figured that out by now, and undoubtedly wouldn't take kindly to her trying to get her and her friend thrown back into the Circle.
They did not find Javaris at his storefront, which was unsurprising. In fact, the entire space that had once belonged to the dwarf was cleared out, and no one had yet filled it, implying that whatever Tintop had done he'd done recently. They tried heading down deeper into the city next, going for Darktown, at which point Sophia felt even stranger than normal in her shining mail and plate, though she probably didn't make quite as much of an impression as Lucien did. She hadn't visited Darktown very much at all, and found herself resisting the urge to plug her nose. This place was putrid.
Eventually the group came across some luck, and heard the calling of a woman in light armor, shouting about the sale price of the assets of Javaris Tintop. They approached, immediately getting the woman's attention. Judging by the weapons present, she was most likely Coterie. Sophia might have punched her, but she imagined it would be difficult for her to swing her sword down here and not hit someone with ties to the Coterie. She kept a civil tone instead. "You're selling the assets of Javaris Tintop?"
"We are. Limited districts, limited contracts. Keeps territory clear and separate from the start." Sophia ground her teeth, wondering if this criminal knew who she was. If only the guard had the strength to come down here and wipe the lot of them out... "He had a meager lot, but he's skipped with dues outstanding, so up it goes."
Nostariel really wasnât surprised to hear that Javaris had had Coterie ties. Anyone who thought acquiring and pandering explosive, weaponized powder was a good idea probably didnât have the conscience required to form compunctions about working with criminals. Honestly⊠she couldnât even judge that harshly. Morality was grey in Darktown, and even sometimes in Lowtown, where bare survival was far from guaranteed without some means of employment. Sheâd fixed up more than a few shady individuals, but she couldnât afford the luxury of asking, she really couldnât. If people needed her help, she gave it. That was just the way of things, and it was better than the alternative.
She was put slightly on-edge by the tension radiating through the group, but soothed a little by the fact that Lucien at least didnât seem to be paying it any mind. Even Ithilian was more or less ignoring it, which was somewhat unusual but welcomed. Still, her hands fidgeted a bit at her sides, as though she wanted to be doing something with them, though she knew not what. When an opportunity was given to speak, she jumped on it. âDo you know where heâs gone?â she asked raising an eyebrow. âItâs rather important that we find him.â
"The members of our little fellowship expect privacy," she explained, before shrugging. "But... he skipped out on paying me, too. Javaris left in a hurry. I'd put him at Smuggler's Cut, if he's avoiding patrols. It empties at a cave outside town. When you find him, tell him not to come back, will you?"
Smugglerâs Cut⊠she recalled something about a location by that name. Perhaps Ashton had mentioned it once, in passing, or maybe it was a patient. Either way, she knew where it was, and how to get there. Nodding, she led the group down into a subterranean passage, taking care to warn them that this was not likely to be clear of all interlopers, in case it happened that they didnât know that already. She would much rather give an unneeded warning than fail to give one that would have done some good.
Her boots produced a squishing sound when she jumped off the ladder and onto the ground, but thankfully nothing seeped in past them. They were treated leatherânot much ever got in there, something she occasionally remembered to be grateful for. The lighting was dim at best down here, and so Nostariel lit a couple of little dancing lights in her palm, casting out a much greater radius of illumination than they would have had already. It might have been better to put Ithilian at the head of the group, to watch for traps, but Amalia had taught her to step lightly and keep an eye out, and besides that, Ithilian didnât know where they were going, so it would have to be her.
The corridor was dank, and smelled uncomfortably of a mix of rot and feces, but at least the floor was mostly dry. Waterproof boots or no, she didnât enjoy the thought of sloshing around in sewage that should have been elsewhere. These were the dreariest parts of the city, occupied only by the witless or those with no other choiceâfugitives, criminals, and the occasional apostate somehow incapable of blending in above. Hopefully, they wouldnât run into any of those people here, as it was bound to be unpleasant if they did. Their path took them around winding turns and the occasional double-back, but for the most part, there was only one workable passage, and though she supposed Lucien, Ithilian, or even Sophia could have broken apart some of these other doors if it had really been necessary, that they still stood meant Javaris hadnât used them, so Nostariel kept on.
She was about to be very surprised that theyâd made it out without running across anything more dangerous than a couple of skeletons when she caught a small sound. Immediately reaching for her bow, her suspicion was rewarded when a wave of thugs, all of them dwarves and most bearing the facial tattoos of the Casteless, appeared out of what seemed to be thin air. There looked to be about a dozen, most wielding daggers, though a few had two-handed hammers in hand, these ones charging out as the rogues revealed themselves. The passage they were in was very tight, and Nostariel immediately dropped back, charging her first arrow with fire and watching as it thudded into a leather-clad chest, bursting into flame and knocking several of the incoming enemies back. Hopefully, it would buy them a bit of time to get into a better formation.
Well, heâd certainly been in nicer places, but if this was the way to get to Javaris, then it was the way theyâd simply have to take. Lucien carefully removed his axe from his back as they walked, not inclined to have to reach for it more quickly in quarters tight enough that he could accidentally hit someone with it. He carried it by his side for the majority of the journey, unburdened by its weight.
When Nostariel reacted to the ambush, Lucien responded in kind, sliding with surprising smoothness to replace her at the front of their formation. There was room for another one or two people as well, but he chose to take point, stepping into a hammer-blow that would have otherwise dented his armor and swinging broadly with the flat of his axe, smashing it into the exposed temple of the scarred warrior whoâd struck him. Their numbers werenât particularly concerning, but the unnatural confinement of the space might prove difficult. âIâm guessing there is no surrender forthcoming,â he said, almost wearily, and since his response was a globule of spit near one of his feet, he took himself to be correct. Very well thenâa fight it would be.
Sophia had her blade drawn as well, and it rested against her shoulder for the majority of the trek, though she occasionally was forced to lower it to avoid the tip scraping along the ceiling. The only time that was comparable to the filth she was in now had been her task escorting Ketojan to the coast, and she was really trying to avoid drawing more parallels to that night. At least it was day time, and she was much less tired this time around. Still, any fighting in here would leave her not looking so shiny afterwards.
The mere thought of course was enough to conjure up a fight, as a small host of dwarves ambushed them, luckily only from the front. This would be a bit of an adjustment, fighting a group of people all shorter than she was, but she'd been taught well, and could adapt. She dug her heels in beside Lucien, the two warriors of the party holding the front. She kicked away the first knife-wielder before he could get into range, and an arrow whistled over her shoulder from behind, striking one of them in the throat, where he spun and eventually collapsed. That could only have belonged to the Dalish. At least he was a good shot.
Ah, it wouldn't have been right if they managed to do this without some kind of trouble popping up from around a corner. Aurora glared at the incoming warriors and shook her head, instead turning back and looking at Milly. "Stay to the back where they won't get to you. If we get hurt, we're going to need you," She said, bestoying some use onto Milly. Aurora didn't want her to think she was excluding her and being over protective-- even if she was. She never faced anything like this before, and for Aurora it had nearly become her day-to-day.
Not that Milly minded. "R-right," She was glad to be put out of the reach danger and fell futher back away from the fight, still close enough to launch a healing spell if she had need. In fact, she was beginning to think following along with Rosy was a bad idea. The cave was putrid, their task dangerous, and now there was a clatter of steel. If this was Rosy's way of showing her around town, then there were an indefinite number of better ways she could have better gone about it. So she huffed her cheeks out and watched, in case she was needed.
Meanwhile, Aurora waited behind Lucien and Sophia, between Nostariel and Ithilian. She had neither armor nor arrows, she for a time she was just there. She'd bide her time, and wait for an opportunity to strike, quick and fast just like Amalia had taught her. No reason to jump into the fight ahead when it was bound to find her eventually. And when it did, she'd have a surprise for these dwarves.
The four of them were allowed in immediatelyâwithout even the need to explain themselves, as was usually required. Apparently, they were expected by the whole compound. He wasnât sure how he felt about thatâit certainly indicated that something of relative importance was happening, which could be either god or bad. Still, it didnât change his approach any, and when he came to stand before the Arishok, it was with customary politeness but no excess of deference. Inclining his head, he spoke first. âYou sent for me, Arishok?â
The Arishok sat atop a small seat at the height of the staircase before them as ever, surrounded by painted warriors who looked utterly bored, despite how much they tried to hide it. They had been here a very long time, among the screaming gulls and the salty smell of the sea, among the lowest of the humans in Lowtown. Smuggling and sometimes even slavery exchanges happened only a few buildings down from where they were camped, and indeed, Ithilian could see this place as nothing other than a military encampment, filled with soldiers awaiting orders. They had waited a long time for them. He did not know what kept them here, but he could feel the way they despised their surroundings. These were a strong people barely contained from destroying this city utterly. He wondered what their thoughts were on the Alienage, and if they would view it any differently than the rest of this place. He would have asked this Arishok such a question, but he had agreed not to speak unless directed otherwise, and the Qunari war leader looked to be in no mood for probing questions. Unless that was just the face he always wore.
"Lucien Drakon," Arishok began in his low rumble of a voice, fixing dark eyes on the man. "Last we met, I did not know your name, did not care to. You have done a great deal over the past few years. The Qunari have not. Our fortunes remain the same." He shifted slightly in the seat, casting brief glances to those that accompanied the mercenary this day, but paying them no mind in the end. "I offer a courtesy. Someone has stolen what he thinks is the formula for gaatlok. You will want to hunt him."
Sophia was unsure what gaatlok was, but if they supposedly wanted to hunt him, it couldn't be anything good. She leaned over to Lucien and spoke in low tones. "Gaatlok? What is that?"
The Qunari were restless, that much was obvious to see. A restless army, trapped in their garrison, was hardly something one wanted on their doorstep. It was almost as volatile a solution as the substance someone had tried to steal, and it made him immediately wary. In the matter of martial strength, someone like him could not afford doubt in his own ability, but there was no mistaking that this was still a daunting reality. The Qunari were too much like him in their militant upbringings for him to assume they would be content doing nothing for much longer.
âYour explosive powder?â he replied, answering Sophiaâs question at the same time. He was immediately reminded of Javaris Tintop the dwarf, and the mission heâd undertaken in the company of Nostariel and Ashton several years ago. But⊠âYou said this party believes they have stolen the formula for gaatlok. What have they actually stolen?â You will want to hunt him sounded quite ominous, indeed. The Arishok did not seem one disposed to overstatement.
"The stolen formula was a decoy, Saar-qamek--a poison gas, not explosives," the Arishok answered simply. "A small amount is dangerous enough to your kind. But if made in quantity, perhaps by someone intending to sell it... would he be cautious, or would he assume success, and make enough to threaten a district?" He leaned back slightly. "A courtesy, Lucien. You will want to hunt him."
Lucien nodded gravely. âI most certainly will,â he replied just as solemnly. âMy thanks, Arishok.â
"Panahedan, Lucien," the Arishok said, nodding. "I do not hope you die."
Whatever Milly was expecting, it certainly wasn't this. The Qunari were military, they had the same walk and look about them as the Templars back at the Circle, that much was evident. However, somehow these people were even more disciplined. She was more than a little bit intimidated, even if she stood beside both the large mercenary known as Lucien Drakon (a familiar name, but one she was currently unconcerned with) and the Dalish Ithilian. At some point she had taken a step back to allow the men to stand in front of her. It was her own fault of course. She was curious. But she couldn't help but partially blame Rosy for this. She let this happen.
When the conversation turned into talk about a poison gas, Milly's eyes fell even further. What exactly did she step into? Was Kirkwall always this dangerous with threats of poison and danger lingering around every corner? And Lucien, taking it all in stride. Did he really encounter these things often enough to simply just bear it? Her thoughts then turned to Rosy, waiting just outside the gate. Just how did she manage to survive in such a city? She found herself massaging her temples as she was led out, asking the three strangers around her, "Are things always so exciting?"
The Chevalier turned to the other three, and gestured to indicate that they should leave. He was pretty sure he had a decent read on the Arishok by this point, and heâd told them about all he was going to. Lucien had a fair idea about where to start in this hunt, anyway. Once they were back outside and reunited with Aurora and Nostariel, he spoke first to Milly, and then to the group at large. âOnly about once a week or so," he said, a knowing lightness to his tone, but it disappeared shortly thereafter. "Nostariel and I once met a dwarf who was very interested in obtaining this gaatlok. I think we might be best served starting with Javaris, and I suppose weâll most likely find him either at his shop in Lowtown or underground.â
To perhaps explain to his friend why this old story was relevant, Lucien explained the mix-up regarding the gaatlok and the saa-qamek, ending with a small pause, and then: âThis is a fair bit more dangerous than I was expecting it to be, and I would understand of there are those among you who do not wish to undertake the task. If so, please do not feel obligated to remain.â He looked particularly at Auroraâs friend as he said this, knowing that she was probably far from used to the lifestyle that the rest of them kept.
Milly met Lucien's look and held for a time before shifting gaze on Aurora. The woman stood straight with her arms crossed and with nary a doubt written on her face. Little Rosy wasn't so little anymore, Milly knew her friend was going to go with them. Not only that, but Aurora had the confidence that said she knew what she was doing, and it wasn't some fancy. She could read it plain as any book, this wouldn't have been the first time Aurora had done anything like this, and most likely not the last time. Milly wouldn't be able to talk her out of it, even if she tried. So she nodded along, "I'll stay. I'll keep out of the way though, but if you need me, I'm here."
Apparently, the answer wasn't the one Aurora wanted to hear, but she couldn't decide Milly's path for her. Only she could do that. So she reluctantly allowed it. The girl needed to learn how life was in Kirkwall, but this was getting to be too much. True, she couldn't want for any more strong companions, but Aurora was still worried. "Fine. But if things get too dangerous..." Aurora's statement was finished by Milly herself, "I'll get out. I know my limits, Rosy. Unlike someone I know."
Still six strong, the party headed back up the stairs to the rest of Lowtown, Lucien and Nostariel leading the way to where they had encountered Javaris Tintop at his shop severa years ago. Sophia followed, silently stewing about the fact that she had two apostates following her. They hadn't come right out and said it, but the fact that Milly was volunteering to stay after she knew how much danger they could potentially be going into echoed back quite similarly to when Sophia had first met Aurora battling thugs in Lowtown's nighttime streets. That she stayed implied she knew how to handle herself, but she did not appear to be a warrior of any kind, and this girl didn't even have the same level of agility Aurora had acquired. If she wasn't a mage, Sophia would be shocked.
Naturally, she began to ask herself why she was keeping silent, and the best reason she could think of was because they really didn't have time for it right now, or the luxury of turning down allies when they knew what they could be walking into. The Dalish elf seemed willing enough to help now, and that was undoubtedly because poison gas in enough quantities to threaten a district could easily do a great deal of harm to the Alienage, if set off in the wrong place. That, and... she knew anything she tried would not go over well. Both Lucien and Nostariel were friends of Aurora's, she had figured that out by now, and undoubtedly wouldn't take kindly to her trying to get her and her friend thrown back into the Circle.
They did not find Javaris at his storefront, which was unsurprising. In fact, the entire space that had once belonged to the dwarf was cleared out, and no one had yet filled it, implying that whatever Tintop had done he'd done recently. They tried heading down deeper into the city next, going for Darktown, at which point Sophia felt even stranger than normal in her shining mail and plate, though she probably didn't make quite as much of an impression as Lucien did. She hadn't visited Darktown very much at all, and found herself resisting the urge to plug her nose. This place was putrid.
Eventually the group came across some luck, and heard the calling of a woman in light armor, shouting about the sale price of the assets of Javaris Tintop. They approached, immediately getting the woman's attention. Judging by the weapons present, she was most likely Coterie. Sophia might have punched her, but she imagined it would be difficult for her to swing her sword down here and not hit someone with ties to the Coterie. She kept a civil tone instead. "You're selling the assets of Javaris Tintop?"
"We are. Limited districts, limited contracts. Keeps territory clear and separate from the start." Sophia ground her teeth, wondering if this criminal knew who she was. If only the guard had the strength to come down here and wipe the lot of them out... "He had a meager lot, but he's skipped with dues outstanding, so up it goes."
Nostariel really wasnât surprised to hear that Javaris had had Coterie ties. Anyone who thought acquiring and pandering explosive, weaponized powder was a good idea probably didnât have the conscience required to form compunctions about working with criminals. Honestly⊠she couldnât even judge that harshly. Morality was grey in Darktown, and even sometimes in Lowtown, where bare survival was far from guaranteed without some means of employment. Sheâd fixed up more than a few shady individuals, but she couldnât afford the luxury of asking, she really couldnât. If people needed her help, she gave it. That was just the way of things, and it was better than the alternative.
She was put slightly on-edge by the tension radiating through the group, but soothed a little by the fact that Lucien at least didnât seem to be paying it any mind. Even Ithilian was more or less ignoring it, which was somewhat unusual but welcomed. Still, her hands fidgeted a bit at her sides, as though she wanted to be doing something with them, though she knew not what. When an opportunity was given to speak, she jumped on it. âDo you know where heâs gone?â she asked raising an eyebrow. âItâs rather important that we find him.â
"The members of our little fellowship expect privacy," she explained, before shrugging. "But... he skipped out on paying me, too. Javaris left in a hurry. I'd put him at Smuggler's Cut, if he's avoiding patrols. It empties at a cave outside town. When you find him, tell him not to come back, will you?"
Smugglerâs Cut⊠she recalled something about a location by that name. Perhaps Ashton had mentioned it once, in passing, or maybe it was a patient. Either way, she knew where it was, and how to get there. Nodding, she led the group down into a subterranean passage, taking care to warn them that this was not likely to be clear of all interlopers, in case it happened that they didnât know that already. She would much rather give an unneeded warning than fail to give one that would have done some good.
Her boots produced a squishing sound when she jumped off the ladder and onto the ground, but thankfully nothing seeped in past them. They were treated leatherânot much ever got in there, something she occasionally remembered to be grateful for. The lighting was dim at best down here, and so Nostariel lit a couple of little dancing lights in her palm, casting out a much greater radius of illumination than they would have had already. It might have been better to put Ithilian at the head of the group, to watch for traps, but Amalia had taught her to step lightly and keep an eye out, and besides that, Ithilian didnât know where they were going, so it would have to be her.
The corridor was dank, and smelled uncomfortably of a mix of rot and feces, but at least the floor was mostly dry. Waterproof boots or no, she didnât enjoy the thought of sloshing around in sewage that should have been elsewhere. These were the dreariest parts of the city, occupied only by the witless or those with no other choiceâfugitives, criminals, and the occasional apostate somehow incapable of blending in above. Hopefully, they wouldnât run into any of those people here, as it was bound to be unpleasant if they did. Their path took them around winding turns and the occasional double-back, but for the most part, there was only one workable passage, and though she supposed Lucien, Ithilian, or even Sophia could have broken apart some of these other doors if it had really been necessary, that they still stood meant Javaris hadnât used them, so Nostariel kept on.
She was about to be very surprised that theyâd made it out without running across anything more dangerous than a couple of skeletons when she caught a small sound. Immediately reaching for her bow, her suspicion was rewarded when a wave of thugs, all of them dwarves and most bearing the facial tattoos of the Casteless, appeared out of what seemed to be thin air. There looked to be about a dozen, most wielding daggers, though a few had two-handed hammers in hand, these ones charging out as the rogues revealed themselves. The passage they were in was very tight, and Nostariel immediately dropped back, charging her first arrow with fire and watching as it thudded into a leather-clad chest, bursting into flame and knocking several of the incoming enemies back. Hopefully, it would buy them a bit of time to get into a better formation.
Well, heâd certainly been in nicer places, but if this was the way to get to Javaris, then it was the way theyâd simply have to take. Lucien carefully removed his axe from his back as they walked, not inclined to have to reach for it more quickly in quarters tight enough that he could accidentally hit someone with it. He carried it by his side for the majority of the journey, unburdened by its weight.
When Nostariel reacted to the ambush, Lucien responded in kind, sliding with surprising smoothness to replace her at the front of their formation. There was room for another one or two people as well, but he chose to take point, stepping into a hammer-blow that would have otherwise dented his armor and swinging broadly with the flat of his axe, smashing it into the exposed temple of the scarred warrior whoâd struck him. Their numbers werenât particularly concerning, but the unnatural confinement of the space might prove difficult. âIâm guessing there is no surrender forthcoming,â he said, almost wearily, and since his response was a globule of spit near one of his feet, he took himself to be correct. Very well thenâa fight it would be.
Sophia had her blade drawn as well, and it rested against her shoulder for the majority of the trek, though she occasionally was forced to lower it to avoid the tip scraping along the ceiling. The only time that was comparable to the filth she was in now had been her task escorting Ketojan to the coast, and she was really trying to avoid drawing more parallels to that night. At least it was day time, and she was much less tired this time around. Still, any fighting in here would leave her not looking so shiny afterwards.
The mere thought of course was enough to conjure up a fight, as a small host of dwarves ambushed them, luckily only from the front. This would be a bit of an adjustment, fighting a group of people all shorter than she was, but she'd been taught well, and could adapt. She dug her heels in beside Lucien, the two warriors of the party holding the front. She kicked away the first knife-wielder before he could get into range, and an arrow whistled over her shoulder from behind, striking one of them in the throat, where he spun and eventually collapsed. That could only have belonged to the Dalish. At least he was a good shot.
Ah, it wouldn't have been right if they managed to do this without some kind of trouble popping up from around a corner. Aurora glared at the incoming warriors and shook her head, instead turning back and looking at Milly. "Stay to the back where they won't get to you. If we get hurt, we're going to need you," She said, bestoying some use onto Milly. Aurora didn't want her to think she was excluding her and being over protective-- even if she was. She never faced anything like this before, and for Aurora it had nearly become her day-to-day.
Not that Milly minded. "R-right," She was glad to be put out of the reach danger and fell futher back away from the fight, still close enough to launch a healing spell if she had need. In fact, she was beginning to think following along with Rosy was a bad idea. The cave was putrid, their task dangerous, and now there was a clatter of steel. If this was Rosy's way of showing her around town, then there were an indefinite number of better ways she could have better gone about it. So she huffed her cheeks out and watched, in case she was needed.
Meanwhile, Aurora waited behind Lucien and Sophia, between Nostariel and Ithilian. She had neither armor nor arrows, she for a time she was just there. She'd bide her time, and wait for an opportunity to strike, quick and fast just like Amalia had taught her. No reason to jump into the fight ahead when it was bound to find her eventually. And when it did, she'd have a surprise for these dwarves.