The Ship, Bath, and Cults

When I saw the street toughs approach our mark in the gambler's club, I definitely had the sense of violent intent. I tried to discourage any conflict by interposing myself between the toughs and the archivist, but it was to naught. Rather than a dialogue springing up, five crossbow bolts were fired at me. I'm a nimble lad; I was able to deflect the blows and absorb them into the cape as I've done times before. With those attacks, though, the fight began.
 
It was a pretty standard brawl; people with unsanctioned and unsporting weapons, heated emotions, drunks, and magic. I sensed Avindir was bumbled in the back line by a drunken shifty person (who was likely a thief; Avindir lost the potion I made for him). Avindir enlarged me with his ensorcelments, which was an admittingly fun but clumsy experience. The large, greatsword-brandishing tough (called Mad-Eyes) was taken down, the archivist gambled their way into the melee, and Makaan was the target of many blows. All in all, aside from the rampant bloodsport and death, it was a thrilling fight. I was unable to really enjoy it; these sorts of battles shouldn't result in the other side's death. It should be sporting.
 
After our victory, the vanguards proceeded to try and loot the assorted remains of the toughs, then we absconded out of the den through the second story window. I was quite proud of my leap -- I landed with quite a lot of grace. Avindir revealed that the Golden Touch was our likely next location, but he also revealed that he now had Mad Eye's docking manifest and (thus) ownership of Mad Eye's ship (somehow). I trusted Avindir's stratagems, so we went to scout Mad Eye's ship. When there, it looked like the vanguards were intent on neutralizing the pirating (water brigands?) threat in the harbor, so my scouting mission rapidly degraded to a reverse banditry mission. With Makaan's intention to leap upon and climb the ship, I chose to join him to offer backup after Avindir's attempt at diplomacy ("I own this ship!") failed.
 
Once on the deck, I saw two sailors going for an alarm bell. I intercepted one, but the other avoided me and rang the tones. While I was doing some light brawling with the pirate, we on the back deck saw the main deck become a violent scene of slaughter. With an intimate understanding of "we don't want to actually die for this", I play-fought with the first guy and helped "knock" him off the ship, where he proceeded to swim off. The second was convinced by our performance, so I tried lightly tapping him to retreat to the ledge. Instead, he succumbed to my blow (which surprised me) and fell unconscious promptly. Around this time, a new band of foes emerged from below deck.
 
Further diplomacy rapidly degraded and all but one proceeded to attack the vanguards. The last retreated back below deck, which Makaan predicted was going to try and "scuttle the ship". I admit, I didn't really know what scuttling was (isn't that a platter or a lid on an opening or a lil' scamper run?), so I proceeded to engage my spiritual breath and let it lift me like the wind. I raced below deck, saw the final pirate threatening to drop an oil lamp, and I thwacked his forearm to force the lamp's release. I caught the lamp on the end of my quarterstaff and played a little keep away. Makaan ended that game quite swiftly by severing the pirate's arms seconds later.
 
With the ship intact, all but two pirates slaughtered (I revived the prior unconscious and convinced him to subtly jump overboard and get to safety), we had an unfortunate realization: there was no imminent reason for us to actually come to this ship and kill the crew. I didn't participate in the death dealing, I admit, but I worry about my friends. They rapidly descended into a violent, harsh mindset of kill or be killed without (in my opinion) appropriate attempts to apply merciful and compassionate methods. We may not be the most charming folks, but surely there could have been other means.
 
Makaan and Avindir discovered a journal of Mad Eye, the two manifests (including the one that was fraudulent), and thus we reported the unethical and piratical practices of the crew. We handed over the ship (we had no way of manning a ship or maintaining it), were promised a reward in the morning, then retreated to the Comfort Rose. While Caeled was unavailable (he should have his personal hours after a day of work), we still ordered a laundering service and put on our secondary travel clothes. With a refocused intent, we proceeded to prepare for the Golden Touch.
 
According to the front-house attendant, the Golden Touch was a gaudy and fae-themed bathhouse that was a pathetic rival to the Comfort Rose. I looked at Calliope and realized that we both would be out of place or uncomfortable in such an establishment, but the mission comes before our aversions. The vanguards prepared themselves and we went to the Golden Touch.
 
It was not a particularly large establishment. I admit, I expected more. The courtyard was (as predicted) gaudy, with nymph-statue fountains. However, when passing by one, my Refusal of Shadow allowed me to tell that there was an ugly, man-like winged gremlin of some sort perched on one of the fountains watching us. I tried to inform Avindir by drawing it (I was quite proud of how I didn't need to look at the page and could be more subtle), which he later identified as an imp (a kind of fiendish spirit; an open for what was to come).
 
The bathhouse interior had three small baths, two attendants, and a few citizens. Avindir and Calliope distracted the attendants by asking for a massage, so Makaan decided to take a bath. His sister remained as a "bodyguard", so I looked for more invisible gremlins but found none. Makaan took a proper soak, which then coincided with Avindir emerging with intent to bribe his attendant multiple platinum coins for information and to join Calliope. When he entered her room, her attendant left and was quite uncomfortable. They were in there for a while, and I had no idea what was going on. Avindir's cat Kipi alerted me to go into the room, so I just did.
 
When I entered, they were emerging from a large doorway in the wall and let us know there was a secret passage. Didn't seem so secret to me, but I'm sure it was very hard to find. After a bit of whiffling around, we retreated to the street to strategize. I informed more clearly that, yes, there was at least one invisible spying gremlin (now informed as an imp) watching the bathhouse, so we had to be smart. After a few proposals, we decided to try and bribe the attendants to leave us in the bathhouse when they locked up (without actually locking). The attendants were apathetic enough to allow it, so we now had free reign.
 
The secret passage was a lot grimmer than expected. We descended down stairs into a body of stillwater and excrement, which ended up being the most comfortable part of the secret passages we were to find.
 
The passage lead us to a room with three doors intricately carved. The first was a figure who had, instead of hands, daggers or swords; we emerged from this door. The second was a figure with a sword and hammer dripping with the viscera and blood of enemies. The third was a figure cloaked heavily and obscured by their robes. According to Avindir, these were icons of Batis, Vulgan, and Quorin respectively. The corruption of my gods into such vulgar icons was, to understate, upsetting to me. This was clearly a cult of some sort (likely the one we were warned about in the village leading up to the city) profaning these chaos lords.
 
We first explored a passage without a door, which lead to an altar with human intestines and viscera and remains sacrificed on it in front of a tapestry depicting mass violence. Around the corner was the bloated, fetid corpse of a poor human. Again, I was so deeply offended by the profanity I was witnessing. Sacrificing sentient lives? How vile.
 
We went through the southern door next (Vulgan's), which had a few disgusting cultists try to ambush us (and dramatically fail). It was short work to put them down, but again I had not taken a life. I prayed (admittingly with hesitation) for mercy after their death; I surely felt little mercy in their lives. Avindir found some valuable spellbooks of spellcraft for his spellwork, then we went through the Quorin the Betrayer's door.
 
When we descended down the stairs, we heard echoing through the sewer-like tunnels the sound of mirthful people and a single pained being; likely torture. How active was this space?