Porthca Landing I: Memory of the Sea

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Walking along with Ben, Eliza and Virra, Tyrius stopped in his tracks as Virra asked if Benito was the killer.

'That just- where in the nine hells did that come from?' Tyrius thought to himself before being snapped out of what thought he had by the sight of Ben breaking down. 'Oh hells, hells, hells!' Tyrius raged in his mind, 'This really isn't something Ben needs right now.' Tyrius was momentarily stunned by the sight of his friend on his knees, though that quickly turned to rage as Virra started laughing.

'Keep calm,' Tyrius mentally chided himself as Virra called Ben stupid, 'It will not do to have Anthol receive reports that his son had a mental breakdown and a noble from another town started a fight in public.' Seeing Virra suddenly start trying to move Ben's arm and pressing her own against it, Tyrius wondered if that was an attack before she mentioned binding the wound. Taking off his own cloak, Tyrius pulled out one of his daggers and cut the lining out of the inside of the cloak before tearing the cut cloth into strips.

"Here," Tyrius said, handing the cut strips to Virra before moving to kneel next to Ben where Tyrius wouldn't be in the way while Virra was binding the cut but Ben could still see Ty's face. "Ben, are you sure you want to go straight to the Tahyrsts?" Tyrius asked, keeping his voice as quiet as he could while still being audible to Ben, "We can go get you cleaned up first. That doesn't necessarily mean going home," Tyrius had heard enough stories from Ben and having met Madame Sidwae he could imagine how she'd react if Ben suddenly returned with a large self inflicted cut on his arm. Tyrius didn't think Ben needed that aggression at that moment, "Maybe we could get some aid from one of the taverns? We don't have to go in if you don't want to and I'm not suggesting we sit around drinking, but that cut was pretty serious." Tyrius forced a smile on his face though it did not reach his eyes. Tyrius looked at Virra as she was tending to Ben's wound.

'They seem as surprised as each other, that is strange. Shouldn’t jump to conclusions.' thought Tyrius as he looked around and saw a bit of a crowd building around them. ’Great, just what Ben needs - gawpers.’

”He’s fine! Just move along.” Tyrius snapped at some of the passer’s by. ’Might end up regretting snapping at people but gods Ben isn’t some circus animal to gawp at.'
 
Ben was filled with anger and rage as the woman laughed, but the pain in his arm and the fear for his life were enough to keep Benito on his knees. As the small woman approached and took his arm, he flinched but put up little resistance as she helped to pressure the wound and halt the bleeding. Ben rolled backwards, sitting on his ankles with his legs folded underneath him. With his free hand he wiped his face. "No." His reply to Tyrius was sharp and hard. "We need to keep going. We need to know who did this. I..." His thoughts got ahead of his mouth and he paused. I'm terrified for my father, and my brother and sister, for the other daughter of the Accmour family and for the town. I don't want to be the good son because I'm the only one left. I've lived every moment since receiving that letter about Cyne's death looking over my shoulder, wondering if I'm next, and now... I'd rather be next because... "... I can't live like this." He hung his head as Virra bandaged his wounds and Benito noticed his blood on her tunic. "Clean," he commanded with a wave of his good hand as the blood dried up and crusted off, becoming a fine powder that disappeared into the wind. "I'm... sorry, Virra. I just... the timing, and what you said this morning and what we were told about power beyond our understanding... I didn't say anything to Enol, I wanted to confront you myself." Ben looked around, "Seems Sidwae's right. I'm incapable of being a decent noble." He laughed to himself, like he was in on a joke now one else knew. "Guess it's a good thing there's no card tables in the street. Could have ended up like..." He stopped himself. "Wouldn't be the first time I fucked up. Let's leave it at that." With a sigh, he stood from his seated position with little effort. "We should get back to it," he stated as he continued back up the street, still wiping the tears from his face and eyes.
 
Eliza was frustrated, all the peace she felt from her magical morning was gone in a frustrating poof.

Why would Virra kill Cyne then risk her life saving his brother. Ben is in worst shape than I thought.

Pursing her lips, she leaned on her staff and watched us Ben cut himself, slightly wincing, and as Virra and Tyrius rushed to help him.

Falling back a bit, she decided to send a message to Ben, “I think a break is best, no?”, she whispered into her closed hands before pointing at Ben.

She hurried to catch up to the group. Panting, she pointed towards her stomach, “I am starving, anyone up for a quick lunch before we get going again? I am sure Benito knows some great places.”
 
"Yeah... If you're hungry Lizy." His reply to the message came after a pause, even in the magical whisper there was pain in his voice. Ben stopped walking of and turned to the others, "There is one place nearby, it's pretty fancy. The Scarlett Jester, we can grab something to eat there before we speak with the Tahyrsts." He sighed and set off in a slightly different direction, turning down a side street and leading them to a building of respectable size with a modest sign hanging above the entrance into the street, The Scarlett Jester. Pushing open the door, revealed a space well lit with floating lights hanging in the air and beautiful tables hardwood tables surrounded by plush, comfortable armchairs. As Ben entered, the hostess acknowledged him, his brooch still visible from his meeting at Lasiris House, "Sit anywhere you'd like Lord De'Porthca. Are the others with you as well?" Benito nodded, "Yeah. Have you moved the tables recently?" The well dressed human woman gave him a puzzled look, "No, sir, I don't believe so." Ben smiled and replied simply with, "Good," before he made his way to a table in the corner, remembering when his father had brought he and Cyne here as a child to show them how the family conducted business over lunch.

Anthol took Benito and Cyne by the shoulder, bending down to look them both in the eyes, "You're going to a really respectable place. Act like it. If you end up taking over the business you'll probably spend a lot of lunches here and you'll want them to like you. And if you're really well behaved, I'll tell you about the bard who founded this place." He reached out and adjusted the boys' cloaks and tunics, making sure their signet rings hung around their necks in plain view, still too large to wear on their fingers. Anthol stood and lead them inside. It was here that Anthol met with some Master Somthing-or-Other to discuss increasing the frequency of their shipments. Cyne had been enthralled by the conversation, Benito... had carved his initials into the side of the table with the small dagger he carried 'for protection'. When Master Something-Or-Other had left, Cyne noticed what Ben had done and began carving next to Ben's initials. At first, Ben had thought Cyne was adding his own initials to the table...

Running his finger along the edge of the table, Benito felt the carving: B. E. D'P. A N. He grinned, Cyne wasn't always so straight laced, he didn't deserve to go how he did. They had their differences, but they were brothers. Pulling out a seat for himself, he swung an arm around, "Please, take a seat. Lets order lunch and take a break before we continue." His smile did little to hide his heavy heart as they waited for a server to great them.
 
Virra bandaged up Ben's wound as best she could with Tyrius's scraps, though by the time she'd finished she wished she had taken a little longer with it. Aside from a firm nod when Eliza suggested getting lunch, she didn't have much to communicate with the others as they walked to the pub. After everything that had just happened, she needed the break to get her thoughts in order before sharing them. Heck, maybe she'd shared too much already.

Still, some small pleasures contrived to raise her spirits a little. The smell of so many dishes cooking, the floating lights that illuminated the room - and most of all, how out of place the four of them looked among it all. It put the smile right back on her face as she took her seat at the table. Cross-legged, naturally.

All that was left was to wait to be served, and what better way was there to fill time than by having a long-overdue conversation? "So, I know this might sound scary," she began, "but I think it's time for us all to have a talk about our feelings." She didn't even try to hide her rueful grin.
 
Benito sighed, "Our feelings? Yeah. I feel like I'm drowning and not because I looked into the eyes of that monster and saw death, but because there's nothing I can do to stop it or save anyone. I've surrounded myself with people, but honestly, I feel alone. I know a lot of my 'friends' back in Azarad like me for my money, or because they think they can move the Porthca and get a job. I feel like the few real friends I have are here in Porthca, and most of them are sitting at this table." He looked to Eliza and Tyrius, with a frown.

"I feel like I've already lost... everything... and the only thing left is making sure that no one else suffers for the mistakes of the past. I feel my mistakes, gods are they many, are too present, too frequent to overlook. Like I keep trying to be better, to do better, but what I say, what I do, who I am... it just isn't in me to be like them. I feel like it was a mistake to drag any of you into this. I'm going to get you all killed and it's going to be my fault and I'll have to live with more... more blood on these hands." He laid his hands out flat on the table.

"I feel like it's my fault for being absent when I should have been here for my brother, my family. And I feel like the more I follow this path, the more anger and sadness it will bring me." Ben hung his head. "I am not a good man, but I would never kill my own brother or a child."

He looked to his bound arm which was still bleeding pretty significantly and waved his hand over it. "Clean." He looked up. "Maybe my blood will attract the killer like a shark in the water, and they can end this."
 
Church of the Crying God:

The two boys seem hushed as they look over the blade before both turning to Ander with awe. Rerehi spoke first, "Wow ... we're still not allowed anything with an edge to it besides a knife for making stew. Can't even imagine getting to wield a named weapon like you!"

Toala chuckled, "Well, it's nice to meet you Ander. May I ask what brings a follower of Lathander to our humble church?"

Returning back to the first level, Cate found Father Uskough watching the trio chatting with Ander. At her voice he turned with a smile, "Hah, words of wisdom from me, eh? Beyond don't get old?" He chuckled, "Ah ... but I suppose, young Cate, ya did ask." Placing his hands before him, his matching cord could be seen, old and worn, the red faded and closer to a pink at this point. "Remember to help carry Burdens where you can, that those who strike out do not deserve hate -- merely a shoulder to lean on." His gaze returned to Ander and the other three, "If you'll be travelin' with a paladin of the Morninglord, I don't think I need to worry of ya strayin' while away from here."

He patted her hands again, "I hope to see you return with less than you have now."
 
"I suppose ya might call it a quest for righteous retribution." he smiled a sad smile as he returned his blade to his back. "In reality, your lovely sister, Cate, has offered to help to my friends and me. We've got a problem that seems to be more than we can handle, or even understand fully." His smile fades as he lowers his voice more, not wanting to bring anyone down, "I'm not sure what's goin' on, but people are dying, and we are gonna work together to stop it."

He turns to the young men who had been admiring his gear, putting what would likely be a noticably fake smile onto his face. "We don't question our callings, young friends, we heed them. Mine's to Lathander's light where he asked me to take up this blade, and yours is to Ilmater, where he asks you to spend your days in service. I hope you're able to use those knives to make the best stew you can. You aren't called to the defense of your church, but to the defense of it's people. That calling is it's own blessing."

He stood up, towering over most in the room. He placed a hand on each young man's head and said a short blessing under his breath, then he returned to Toala and bowed to her, genuinely smiling once again. He walked toward the door, but on his way, he placed 5 gold peices in the collection box as quietly as he could. He stood near the door, waiting for his two companions, though he was not quite sure what their next destination would be.
 
Following Ben into The Scarlett Jester, Tyrius was surprised at how beautiful the tavern looked. The plush armchairs and the floating lights looked very inviting, it looked like the kind of tavern to relax and unwind in. Following Benito to the table in the corner, Tyrius waited for Eliza to choose where she wanted to sit before taking a space at the table. Seeing Virra sit cross legged at the table, Tyrius repressed the urge to raise an eyebrow at her antics, 'Does she not remember Ben's warning that we represent his family?' The combo of Virra's grin and her invitation to talk about feelings took Tyrius by surprise. What surprised him more was Ben's response.

Waiting until Ben finished, Tyrius said, "It wasn't a mistake to ask for help, Ben. Look at what happened last night. If you hadn't asked for help, if we hadn't been there-" Tyrius let the implication dangle for a second before adding, "You saved your younger brother. We all did in our own ways." Tyrius glanced to both Virra and Eliza, trying to work out their reactions as he realised he hadn't yet answered Virra's question for himself.
"I'm glad I was able to get Robern to safety," Tyrius said before nodding to Virra, "You helped a lot with that Virra, we'd never have gotten Robern out of the room and out of harm's way had you not done that magic."

'Maybe it'd be a good idea to ask Anthol or Ben later if there's a safe place they know in case we need to evacuate the children again.' thought Tyrius, 'Can't imagine someone will attack Robern or Joane again so soon - still, it'd be better to have that knowledge to hand before we need it.'

"I'm a little annoyed at myself that it took so long to wake up. If Ben hadn't shouted right outside the door I'd have probably slept through it." Tyrius stated calmly, "Though it makes me even more determined to find the killer. Or killers." Tyrius added, realising that they had no evidence yet that the creature that had struck at the De'Porthca's the night before was working alone. "What about you Virra? Eliza? How're you feeling about what happened?"

'And how are you feeling that Ben thought you were the killer, Virra?' Tyrius added in his mind, 'You seem to be awfully calm for someone who was just publicly accused of being involved in murder.'
 
Eliza walked to the table and sat in the first empty seat she saw. Her legs had started aching again from the day’s work. No rest for the weary.

She chewed her lips upset. ”Ben, I understand you are hurting but this is no time for a breakdown. You said your family needs you, so how is this attitude going to help them? Imagine Joane hearing you say this. Imagine how devastated your family will be, yes, even Sidwae, if anything were to happen to you.” Wiping a tear, she glared at the Lord, “I don’t want to ever hear you say such things again. Let me decide what my life is worth. You have no idea what I am willing to sacrifice for my loved ones.”

Wiping her nose with a napkin offered by Faust. She looked away refusing to look at anyone. Her familiar stuck his tongue out at Benito for upsetting his best friend.
 
Aside from an unconvincingly modest shrug when Tyrius complimented her for helping Robern, Virra waited for the others to finish before chiming in herself, nodding at the appropriate points. "What Eliza said. Obviously none of us can really be in your shoes right now, but giving up isn't gonna help you or anyone else. What if I really had been the killer? You'd have died just now, and there would have been no-one to protect your family." Not one for sombre moods, she cracked a smile as she continued: "Oh, and offering me money was even worse - I could have just gone along with it and skipped town with all your stuff before you realised it was an act. Missed a trick there, didn't I?"

She laughed, but broke off after glancing at Eliza and Tyrius. "Oh, right, you didn't hear that." For a moment she looked down at the tablecloth, pensive. Well, no time like the present. Shrugging again, she looked up and made two quick telepathic messages to her companions - a quick "Just demonstrating," in each of their minds while visibly keeping her mouth shut. Then, voice lowered, she continued out loud. "We were talking like that. I'm a psion. My magic comes from my mind. I meant to tell you both sooner, but... I couldn't find the right moment." She reached out to give Faust a stroke with her fingertip. "I guess that's it for my feelings too."
 
Feeling a sudden hum in his mind followed by Virra's voice saying a message without her lips moving before both hum and voice went away again, Tyrius glanced at Virra's hands, expecting to see a wire before remembering that Message required the caster to both point at the target and at the very least move their lips.

As Virra identified herself as a psion, Tyrius thought the word sounded out of place. Dwelling on it, he remembered snippets from books he'd read in the library of Azarad that psions, at least people claiming to be psions, were rare and in the literature he had read the authors had been inconclusive.

Reaching into his pocket, Tyrius pulled out the piece of copper wire he kept there and bent it into a crude circle with a tail which he held up to his mouth with one hand before subtly pointing to Virra. '"Since you said you couldn't find the right moment, I didn't think you'd appreciate a question being posed aloud," Tyrius said, "So, if your magic comes from your mind and you can talk into our minds, does that mean you can read other people's thoughts?"

'If Virra can read people's minds and isn't the killer, that would be invaluable when we question people.' Tyrius thought to himself.
 
Winston smiles warmly at the elderly woman, “No of course that’s not what I’m saying miss. I’m just trying to help out a friend, so I was just trying to find out any information that the general population knew that could possibly help us.” He falls silent as she tells Winston of her husband lost at sea, and he assumes a sorrowful expression in sympathy. His ears perk up at her last few words ‘the sea takes as much as it gives’... awfully similar to what the undead entity said to them before it disappeared the night before, something about remembering its debts and paying them. Winston gives the woman a silver piece, and grasps her hands. “Thank you for you time, and I’m very sorry for your loss. I’m sorry to have bothered you, but you have a good day now.”

Winston then stood up and headed towards the door where he saw Ander waiting, and he stood beside him without a word and waited for Cate so they could make their leave.
 
Catelyn smiled warmly and nodded to the old dwarf. “Less in body, greater in spirit. Take care, Father, and know that I am in good hands. Sir Anders seems to be an upstanding sort, and although I am not particularly certain about his companion, I sense no malintentions from him. Ilmater’s blessings.” Catelyn gave Father Uskough a final bow before walking over to her new companions. She smiled to them. “The Father has granted me leave for the duration of our task. He seems to believe that the assailant was a man wronged by the noble families... and that he likely met a watery grave, which is why that is their means of judgement. Where do you believe we should begin our search? Or did Benito wish for my presence immediately?”
 
Benito looked across the table to the flippant gnome. "I do not even know where to begin, Virra. I suppose we should start with how I feel." His voice dripped with vitriol at the last word. "I feel that I've been open, honest, and generous. I extended an invitation to my home despite attempts to swindle me. I asked for aid in my quest after Robern was saved - a task I am under no illusion was beyond my capabilities. I offered lodging, clean clothes and food, extended every kindness even despite the strain it puts on my tenuous relationship with my step-mother. I even shared a map and kept secrets from the heads of houses. When I asked for answers the response was unsatisfactory." Benito placed his elbows on the table, leaning forward slightly and forming a steeple with his hands. He spoke clearly and directly, carefully enunciating the questions, "When did you arrive in Porthca and what is your purpose here?" He sighed, "Beyond that, I asked that, if you were the killer you spare my family - a reasonable request. To have you throw such a request in my face is on the highest order of disrespect. Look at all that has been made available, everything that has been offered. Look at what I have done to extend the olive branch and be friends." He shook his head, "No more, Virra. If you wish to remain in the employ and favor of House De'Porthca and not find life in the city very difficult, then things need to change. Silent killer or not, you will show me, my family, and those I choose to surround myself with respect, or I will choose not to surround myself with you. Have I made myself clear?"

After a moment, his face softened, his hands relaxed, and blood had run down onto the table. He looked over to Eliza, "I'm sorry to have upset you Lizy, I'm just very... lost. I do not know what I would do if you were to fall prey to a killer or find yourself in harms way because of me." He turned to Tyrius, "And Ty, you are correct, Robern would be dead were it not for the rest of you, but we cannot celebrate a single victory while the rest of the nobles are still in danger. I have not given up hope, but I recognize that debts are meant to be paid, and if I knew the debt, I would gladly pay it to end this nightmare."

It took every ounce of strength to approach things so diplomatically. Benito was ready to be done with the gnome for her antics and tactics. Laughing at him in public, accusing him of being the killer. At least he had the decency to ask privately before hand. His head grappled with the situation - he owed her a debt for saving Robern's life, but he could not abide the disrespect any longer. Tired from his outburst and the continued bleed of his arm, Ben lost focus. He removed his brooch from his lapel and fiddled with it in one hand while he cleaned the table of the mess he'd made with the other. "Clean." He didn't seem to let the blood sit around long, it reminded him too much of his mistakes.
 
Porthca Streets:

After brief discussion of their plans, the trio of Cate, Ander, and Winston began making their way through Porthca -- a little aimlessly perhaps, but making their way nonetheless.

As they went, Cate as usual caught snippets of conversation here and there, comments of the interesting trio, half begun jokes of "So a paladin of Lathander and a cleric of Ilmater walk into a bar..." and so on. However as they get closer to where the Lasiris House is in Porthca, heading towards the harbor, something interesting catches Cate's ear: mention of Lord Benito and some apparent argument? Maybe the young Lord was distraught by his brother's death and was looking to start fights again?

Further walking and listening, it seems The Scarlett Jester starts to be mentioned again -- fitting considering the trail of scarlet Lord De'Porthca had supposedly been trailing as he walked.
 
Virra jumped a little as Tyrius spoke into her mind, having become unused to hearing others' telepathic voices unless she started the conversation herself. "I can't," she admitted. "It's possible, though. I know that my -- that others have managed it, but I guess I don't have the skill yet." Just as she was about to elaborate, Benito began to address her, and she forgot all about that line of questioning. "That's not... I already told you... I never meant to disrespect anyone," she tried, before falling silent as he went on. A mixture of emotions crossed her face, but none of them were jovial. Several times she seemed ready to respond, then bit it back. At the suggestion that she might 'find life in the city very difficult' for disrespecting him she almost got up from her chair. But at the end of it all she just leaned back and took her hand off Faust, at a loss. For close to a full minute she sat quietly chewing her lip, not looking at any of the others for fear of seeing what their expressions might be.

"I arrived in Porthca the day you met me, and I'm here to find the killer," she said eventually. "I wasn't lying about any of that. Nothing I've said has been a lie since we agreed to work together." What more was he looking for? What other secrets would he want to hear? There was only one more that Virra could let herself share, and it was hardly a winner. "I latched onto you because of Eliza." She gestured across the table at the half-orc, looking actually embarrassed for the first time since coming to the city. "I... I thought about her. Right when I committed to solving the murders, I just started to think about her, this stranger from home who I'd never spoken to, and I had no idea why. I assumed it didn't mean anything, but then on the day I got into town, who happened to show up too?" There was the smallest hint of a smile tugging at her mouth once again. "When your mind works like mine, you can't say things like that happen by accident."

Sighing, she looked back down at her lap. "That's it. If there's anything else for me to say, just tell me what it is."
 
Catelyn walked the streets of Porthca with her unlikely companions, idly chatting about the various sites in the city as they passed by, yet her attention was focused all around her. One of the key tenets of the church of Ilmater is to seek out suffering wherever it lies, making observation an important ability for His clerics. Catelyn was notably skilled in this area, and today she focused her talents on the people of the city around her. When she noticed the talk of the city change to speaking of a fiery young lord causing a scene, she smiled slightly and shook her head to herself. That would be Benito... I pray that he is alright. Without a word, she led the group where her senses took her, until at last she heard the exact location.

Catelyn turned to the two and smiled. “Care for a meal? Benito and his rather... curious sounding company are apparently at the Scarlet Jester. It is not far from here.”

She led the two towards the restaurant and entered, but paused as she became aware of the fact that she was wearing chainmail armor, and more importantly, not wearing any shoes. She smiled apologetically to the hostess. “The Crying God’s blessings upon you today, friend. My apologies for my state of dress, I understand if you would rather I wait outside. I was hoping that you could pass on a message to Benito de Porthca for me? Catelyn Pryce, Winston Wiseacre, and Sir Ander have arrived to meet with him. Thank you!” Catelyn smiled patiently to the hostess.
 
Benito sat with his arms rested comfortable on the arms of the chair still playing with the brooch in one hand, and one leg kicked up in his lap as Virra explained. He looked tired, defeated, but not unhappy. He let out a subtle sigh. "Thank you." He rubbed his face with his free hand, "I... should explain what happened back there."

Ben removed his hands from his face which was red and blotchy. "Everyone in Porthca already knows, hell Ty probably heard rumors, but my father and Sidwae pulled many strings for it to be swept under the rug.... You were right, I am a killer, I'm just not the killer you're looking for." He looked around to the others, "It was complicated. The man made some insinuations about my mother. He meant Sidwae, but I took it as Elean - my mother who died giving birth to my sister, who also died only hours later. I threw a table, pinned the man to the ground, and beat him to death with my hands. I had to be pulled off of his lifeless corpse." Ben pinned his brooch back to his lapel and rubbed his knuckles which caught the light just right, revealing their heavily scarred nature.

He looked to Virra, "I've been a lot more restrained since then, but that's something I have to live with. When you accused me..." He took a deep breath, "I've spent my life running from what I am, and when you accused me, I was lost. You weren't wrong, but you weren't right either. There are limits to my depravity."

He rubbed his face with both hands, "I am sorry that we've had such a rough start to all this, but I trust that you understand how much scrutiny I am constantly under. The weight of my name is hardly a bless." He reached a hand across the table for a shake, "I am pleased to consider you a friend, Virra Nickeltooth, and I look forward to getting to know you better." He left his hand outstretched, trying to smile, but obviously in physical and emotional pain as his arm dripped blood slowly on the table.
 
Virra listened to Ben's pseudo-confession with what she hoped was a neutral, non-threatening expression. As usual, questions were bubbling up in the back of her mind about this incident - how long ago it happened, how his parents kept it quiet, whether the victim could possibly have a connection to the recent murders - but she kept them down and let him finish uninterrupted. And she was glad she did; seeing Ben reach out to shake her hand and start afresh finally brought the smile back to her face.

"Y'know..." she began, then cut herself off immediately. Making light of Ben's more serious expressions was what started all this awkwardness, so it would be best to hold off until, as he said, they knew each other better. She leaned over the table and carefully took his hand, making a face as more blood began to drip onto the table."I really did a bad job fixing that, huh?" she said quietly, pulling Ben's hand closer. "Sorry. We're gonna have to re-dress it..."
 
The Scarlet Jester:

The hostess had turned at first to welcome Cate and those with her before glancing down once Cate mentioned her lack of shoes. She paused for a moment before seeming to come to a decision, "If you're with Lord De'Porthca, you're welcome here, shoes or no. Especially a priest of Ilmater -- it would not do to turn you away."

Motioning for the trio to follow, conversations seemed to pause as they moved through the room, noise of gear and equipment audible over the soft volume of speech. Approaching the table where the others sat, the hostess began to introduce them, "Lord De'Porthca, guests to your party, Catelyn Pryce, Winston Wiseacre and Sir Ander --" as she finished she looked at the blood on the table, dripping from Benito's arm and gasped. "Lord De'Porthca -- if you've been injured you should have said, we could call a medic or healer to help with such things!"
 
Benito pulled his arm back from Virra, "I'm fi-" He was cut off by the arrival of the others, looking up at the waitress he smiled, "As I was just saying, I'll be fine. I apologize for soiling your table." He waved a hand "Clean." As the blood crusted and blew away he smiled at Cate and the rest, rising from his sit, "Thank you for bringing them to us. If we could get started with a round of whatever is fresh and prepared and send around a menu that we might enjoy a meal please." He finished addressing the waitress as he moved around the table toward Cate while addressing Ander and Winston, "Please, have a seat. I'm glad you found Cate." He opened his arms, "It's good to see you. How have you been? Did the donation make it safely from Azarad?"
 
Eliza was dying from curiousty after Virra’s revelation. She had only found it mentioned once in abook yeards ago and ever since then the idea of magics different from what she knew from an early age intrigued her. Was Virra born with it? Did she learn it from someone? How? When? Where?

She wasn’t surprised to hear that the gnome knew of her though. She had heard the rumors surrounding the orc in the attic but she was surprised that Virra had seemingly followed her onto this serial killer hunt.

Glad to see Ben feeling better, she started reading Ben’s book from the carriage earlier when she heard the voices of new people at their table. “Nice to see you again,” she nodded at Ander and Winston, and looking at the new comer she smiled and waved. “Hello, I am Eliza, you must be Cate.”
 
Catelyn’s eyes immediately fell on Benito’s hand and she quickly moved up to him, taking him by the hand with her unwrapped fist. She tightly clenched her right until the the tips in her holy symbol drew blood and muttered under her breath. “Lord on the Racks, pass this Sufferer’s strife unto me.” Catelyn briefly felt pain flow through her body, reaching her holy symbol and fading. She smiled warmly to Ben as his wounds healed. “It’s been so long, Benito! I must apologize... I am afraid that my duty has kept me too busy in the lower districts to speak. I received your extremely generous donation weeks ago. I’m ashamed to admit that I still possess some of the remnants of it. Gold is wonderful, but what we truly need is hands willing to do the will of Our Lord...”

Catelyn stopped and bit her lip for a moment. “Sorry. You did not invite me for a lecture. Father Uskough has granted me leave to assist you in this task...” She paused, recalling how Winston reacted to her revelation of her visions, and decided to hold off. She let go of Ben’d hand, turned and bowed to Eliza as she introduced herself. “Ilmater’s blessings, Eliza. I am Catelyn, or Cate as Benito has somehow managed to get everyone to call me.” She smiled around at everyone, taking note of their appearances and mannerisms.
 
Virra perked up the moment the others appeared, watching with undisguised amazement as the priestess of Ilmater touched Ben's wound and healed it with a few moments of concentration -- it was almost enough to distract her from the lack of footwear. After Eliza, she immediately jumped into the introductions. "Good to know you, Cate. I'm Virra. Ben's told us a bit about you, but not that you could do that." She nodded towards the closing wound as if it wasn't obvious what she was talking about. Spotting Ander and Winston approaching as well, she waved to them. "Hey, grab some chairs! We can make room." There was something about being in a large group that never failed to get her excited.
 
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